#specially if a client's a dick and the person has to still be nice or like that crazy thing that happens in usa where cashiers have to be

[harryslittlefreakk]

too sweet

summary: essentially porn with little plot… or .. when her boss decides that letting her go is in her best interests, y/n decides to show him exactly what he’s missing out on.

warnings: swearing, light angst, smut (rough sex, oral m receiving, slight domrry) also don’t ask me how he can receive oral if she’s on the desk ?? it just happened

wordcount: 2.8k

a/n: much like the rest of the world, i can’t stop listening to too sweet :) and to me it has ceorry written all over it!! as always please let me know if you enjoyed!! I really want to start trying my hand at more tropes and aus so please let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see!!!

my masterlist & taglist can be found here 💖 love you

“Mr Styles, I-”

“I promise you, sweetheart. It’s not a set back, it’s just-”

“I can show you, please.” You were begging and pleading like this job hadn’t been draining the life out of you for months now. You knew that Harry was right, but you didn’t want to, couldn’t, accept another failure.

“Listen.” His words were stern but his face was soft as he reached over the table, placing a ringed hand over the top of yours. “It’s not personal. To succeed in this business you need grit. No one ever got to the top without a hint of cunt, me included.”

He held up his free hand as you opened your mouth, silencing you before the words had even begun to form. “You are special. You don’t have that mean streak, and I refuse to be the one to manufacture it within you. I will find a spot in this company for you, shift people around if I have to. You need to find a role that grows with you, not one that will tear you down.”

You nodded slowly, speechless as his words sunk in. How can you be fired for being too nice? Not cunty enough? You tugged your hand away from Harry’s as if it burned you, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Is this because of the cakes?” you asked, cringing as you thought back to all the nice things you’d done around the office. If you weren’t supposed to be nice, why not put that in the job description? Under requirements: IT skills, maths degree, asshole.

Harry laughed, leaning back in his seat as he grinned at you. “In a way, I guess it is because of the cakes. Just trust me, okay? This is for the best. I’d never forgive myself if I turned you into a monster. Finance is a cut-throat world,” he finished, staring out into the office.

When he didn’t say anymore, you stood up, smoothing out your skirt across your thighs. “Thank you for your time, Mr Styles. I’ll wrap up my work and send it over to you, I assume you won’t need me past lunch?”

“No, that’s all. Thank you y/n,” he smiled, nodding as you turned away.

“Dick,” you muttered, pulling the door closed behind you. You could hardly rant and rave to his face, especially after repeatedly hearing how nice you are, but you were inwardly seething. Treating your colleagues like shit would be a good reason to get fired, treating your clients like shit would be a better one. But to be too kind? You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make sense to you, but it was still downright unfair. You had grit, and you’d show him.

You sat silent and dignified until the office left for lunch, wrapping up with the clients you had and sending the remainder to Harry. No one stayed past lunch on a Friday, so the second the last stragglers left, you rushed to the Harry’s office door. You had no game plan, except for bursting in and proving him wrong. Only, as soon as you were about to reach out and knock on the door, it swung open. “Y/n.”

“I have grit,” you told him, slipping past him into his office. It was all you could think to say.

“I-”

“Close the door please,” you motioned your head towards Harry’s seat, signalling for him to sit back down. He was frozen in the doorway, an amused smirk dancing on his lips. “I have grit,” you repeated, gaze following Harry as he pushed the door closed and circled back around his desk.

“You said that,” he sniggered, loosening his grey tie as he watched you pace around the office. “If I didn’t have grit,” you started, willing something entirely different to come out your mouth, knowing that it wouldn’t. “I wouldn’t mention that I know you spent the entire Christmas party in here with Stephanie. With the door locked. And I wouldn’t mention that I’ve noticed the way you look at me,” you finished, eyes glued to the skyline behind Harry’s head.

His jaw clenched a few times, his hands flexing against the wood of his desk. “Good point,” he murmured, his expression totally unreadable as he looked at you. “Come and sit down.”

You padded over tentatively, fingertips gripping the back of the chair as you pulled it out in front of you.

“Not there.” He pushed his chair back, tapping on the wood between his hands.

“What are you-” you started, gaze darting between Harry’s icy stare and your feet, dragging themselves the short distance to Harry’s desk.

“You came here to show me you have grit, no?”

You nodded, heart in your throat as you perched on the edge. “How were you going to show me?” he continued, his eyes unrelenting in their pursuit of weakness within you.

You knew what your game-plan was, but you weren’t expecting Harry to catch on and call your bluff. His voice was muffled by the blood pounding in your ears, your jaw tight as you tried to remain composed under his watch. He leaned back when you stayed silent, one eyebrow raising slightly as his gaze raked down your body. “What were you going to do, y/n?” he asked again, hooking one foot around yours to pull your legs open.

A tiny gasp falling from your lips was the only sound you made, the tension hanging heavy in the air. Harry reached forward, pushing your skirt up around your hips until he saw a flash of your red panties. “I think,” he started, fingertips trailing down your exposed thigh. “You were going to show me that sweet little cunt, show me what it can do. Am I right?” he continued, satisfied as he looked at the trail of goosebumps his touch had left.

You nodded again, eyes fluttering closed in a bid to expel some of the anticipation creeping through your core. “Use your words,” Harry muttered, tugging on your thighs until you landed in his lap.

You opened your eyes, inches away from his face as he splayed a hand across your lower back. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, a shiver running down your spine. His cock twitched beneath your core at the name, his eyes dark.

“From this moment onwards, anything that happens within these walls is between us. Do you understand?” Harry asked, his voice husky and yet somehow softer than you’d ever heard it.

“Of course,” you replied, hoping your eyes communicated the sincerity that your words couldn’t.

Harry placed his free hand on your hip, pushing you down slightly until his firm cock bulged against your entrance.

“What are you and your grit going to do about this then?” he smirked, his fingertips digging into your clothed flesh. You almost choked on the lump in your throat, eyes bulging as you shifted on top of Harry’s girth. His stare was like a challenge, daring you to retreat or prove yourself wrong. But you’d gone too far to back down now, so you swallowed the first taste of tomorrow’s regret and locked your eyes on his, rolling your hips across his lap before stepping off of him.

You answered his questioning frown by sitting back on your heels between his legs, reaching forward with a tentative hand to palm him over his trousers. Harry let you feel him for a second, before swatting you away to unzip his slacks and push them down his thighs.

From the moment you’d first met him, you knew Harry was objectively hot. He was attractive in the same way a friend’s dad would be - enough to appreciate but too out of reach for it to be any more than that. But now as you stared up at him, the strained fabric of his Calvins tight against the cock he was about to fuck your face with, he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Harry tugged the waistband of his boxers down, only enough to set his length free, grabbing hold of your wrist. “No one is to know,” he growled, waiting for your confirmation before guiding your hand to his length.

“No one, sir,” you murmured, pressing your parted lips to the side of his shaft as he pulled his hand away.

“Good girl,” was all Harry could manage as your pout wrapped around his tip, your tongue swirling across the nerves. You let your saliva drip down him, rubbing it across his skin with an unsteady yet firm hand. It felt dirty, transactional almost as if he might let you stay if you performed well enough for him. But you knew you didn’t want that, and he wouldn’t want you working for him once you’d milked his cock for all it had.

You could feel his eyes on you as you pulled your mouth away from him, your hand still working up and down his length. Your gaze darted up to meet his, the hunger in his eyes unlike anything you’d seen before. He was almost animalistic, something feral juxtaposed in his features as he watched you silently, frozen in place. You willed yourself to look away as you bent further down, poking out your tongue to lick a wet line along his cock, but you couldn’t focus on anything but Harry’s face. Your arousal was pooling between your thighs, a breathy moan tumbling past your lips as you took more of him into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

You couldn’t take him all, not even close, so your hands worked at the rest of him, one wrapped around his base while the other found his balls, squeezing them gently as your cheeks tightened against his girth. Harry let out a small groan, his first display of your mouth having any effect on him, his hand instinctively tangling into your hair as if he’d been here with you before.

He used his grip to hold your head steady, directing your mouth up and down his length. His cock was knocking into the back of your throat, your whimpers mixing with groans and splutters, until he stopped suddenly, pushing back in his chair until there was distance between the two of you. You were too much, the sight of your pout wrapped around his tip too much for him to take.

“Up,” he demanded, placing a protective hand over the edge of the desk to save you knocking your head. You pulled yourself up to meet where he stood, resting against the desk to take the weight off your shaky legs. Harry’s thumb swiped across your jaw, his eyes fixed on your face. Your swollen red pout, your heavy-lidded eyes, mascara gathered under your lower lashes. You looked a fucking mess, and he was loving every second of it.

He bent down slightly, fingers slipping under your skirt to hook around the side of your panties. He pulled them off, helping you to raise both feet, before stuffing them into the pocket of his slacks.

“Turn around,” Harry murmured, nodding as you obeyed him. His fingers trailed across your hips, pushing on your back until your stomach hit the wood of his desk.

You let out a whimper as he pressed a hand between your legs, his fingertips dancing across your skin until they met your entrance, hot and sticky and so ready for him. Harry swiped a finger through your folds, a tiny chuckle the only sound he made as you squirmed, his free hand splayed across your back, keeping you pinned down. “Got yourself all worked up f’me, huh?” he drawled, voice so low it sent shivers down your spine.

You nodded, too overcome with need to form any words. Harry pressed into you, collecting your juices on his tip before pushing himself inside, eyes screwed shut as your walls constricted around him. Your whimpers turned into a string of expletives, his girth too much for you to take. “Tight little cunt, all for me,” Harry whispered, stilling inside of you now that he’d bottomed out. His hands were digging into the skin of your ass, your curves engulfing the base of his cock. “All for you,” you panted, desperately trying to find something to grip on to, something to steady you while Harry tore you in two.

He pulled back, mouth hanging open as he watched himself emerge from your pretty pink lips, his length already smothered in your juices. He wanted to resist, to be gentle with you, but your cunt was begging him to destroy it, to instil in it some of the grit you claimed to have. It was between his head and his heart, yet Harry could only think with his cock.

He slammed into you hard, your hips knocking against the edge of his desk, the contents of his drawers rattling as he drilled into you. His office was far from sound proof, and any stragglers left in the building would hear nothing but your cries and screams as he rocked his hips into yours, his cock hitting every inch of you. But that only spurred him on further, the thrill of your pleasure coursing through his veins. He landed a blow on the curve of your ass, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he watched the red hand print appear, the skin bouncing with every snap of his hips.

“Fuck, Har- fuck,” you cried, breathless as Harry slammed his hips into yours before pulling out completely. He grabbed at your waist, tugging at your dress for you to turn over. “I need to see you,” he growled, eyes completely darkened when you turned to face him. You’d never seen him with as much as a hair out of place, yet now he looked possessed by his own lust. He was messy, curls hanging down his forehead and a blush to his cheeks, shirt half unbuttoned.

He circled around your clit as you looked him up and down, eyes never leaving yours. “Taking me like a fucking good girl,” he whispered, pushing back into your entrance.

“I can’t- please, sir,” you whimpered, chest heaving as he continued fucking into you with the same ferocity as before. Between his cock, his fingers, his face, you were coming apart. He was twitching inside of you with every moan that left your lips, his own climax creeping up as quickly as yours was. He stilled for a moment, his fingers never ceasing as they rubbed pleasure into your nerves. “You can, and you will. Come for me,” he urged, grabbing a hold of your waist as he thrust into you, each snap of his hips pushing you closer to the edge.

“I’m, fuck-” was all you could cry, your mouth falling open as you shook and writhed under him, his words coaxing out an orgasm stronger than you’d ever imagined. Your eyes brimming with tears, brows knitted as you cried out, hips bucking into the palm of his hand. Harry slowed down slightly, seconds between each thrust as he worked you through your high, your cream coating every inch of his thick cock.

The second you stilled, he slipped his hand under your back, pulling you up to sit as he pulled his cock from you. Harry dragged a thumb across your bottom lip, smirking at your tiny pout as you felt the emptiness in your cunt. “Open up,” he whispered, replacing his thumb with his tip, pushing it past your lips as he worked his hand up and down the length.

You took him into your mouth for the second time that day, the mix of your juices like sweet nectar against your tongue. You were dizzy from your climax, every inch of your core on fire from the sheer brutality of his cock, your walls still pulsing. Harry was grunting and groaning, even his moans husky as he twitched between your lips, his jaw tensing as he came undone, hot cum shooting to the back of your throat.

He held a hand to the nape of your neck, grounding himself as he bucked into you, filling you up at a much faster rate than you could swallow. “Good girl,” he cooed, letting you lick every last drop of cum from his tip before he pulled away, sinking down into his chair as his hand dropped down your body.

You leaned your arms back against the desk, eyes glued to the ceiling as you tried to catch your breath, the stinging of your entrance doubled by the sudden lack of touch.

Harry kept watching you, still under your spell, unable to will his eyes away as you panted. “You have grit,” he whispered, a glimmer in his eye. “But I can’t let you work for me after that.”

“As long as you know I have grit, Mr. Styles,” you smirked, rolling your head down to look at him again.

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever

[skzstoryvault]

Erase and Rewind (angst, fluff, smut - Hyunjin - Final part)

F!Reader

ex!Chan

good friend Hyunjin

multi chapter story

this chapter: feelings and smut

Chan broke up with reader

Reader is moving on

Hyunjin is being a supportive friend

Featuring insecurities, internalised misogyny and self-hate

This is in no way meant as a commentary on the real persons depicted here. They all deserve the world.

Please be kind.

Please do not report this post. If it's not your thing, just scroll away.

If you're underage, please scroll on, there is nothing for you here.

If you enjoy this story and are reading along, I would love to hear your comments in the replies, reblogs or DMs - however you feel most comfortable.

*** Part 3

You were single for two Valentine’s Days and for two White Days now, and other than staying in and distracting yourself with action movies, you did not feel the seasonal sadness affect you. Not to mention, there were other friends of yours who weren’t big on celebrating those things and who invited you to their houses for casual gatherings. Minho hosted a silent rave at his house one year (which Chan and his girlfriend skipped), Felix invited himself over one White Day, with cake ingredients and his infectious good mood. You were doing great.

This year, for White Day, Hyunjin declared the entire world could fuck off with its lovey dovey shit and he invited you for an art experience at a gallery which provided huge canvases, non-toxic paints and small thongs for the clients to use for painting on each other, then rolling across the canvasses and creating their own unique art pieces. “Uh… this is a literal string. My whole dick is out.” Hyunjin said from the changing booth next to yours. 

“My outfit has no bra. Granted there’s not much that can go in it but I bet you didn’t sign up to see my nips on this God’s fine day.” “Shall I tell the staff we’re not doing it? If you’re uncomfortable?” “How much did you look forward to this, Hyune? And also, this must have been such a headache to organise, for you, with how booked you are. And aren’t you uncomfortable?” “Well, I really wanted to do it. I thought it would be nice for us to have this special thing in common.” 

“Tell you what. Let’s still do it - butt naked. I know you love me and won’t laugh at me, and the same goes for me too.” “Fuck yes!” Hyunjin burst out of his booth, naked and in flip flops. “Jewellery - on or off?” You thought for a bit. “Off, I’d say, we don’t want the canvas to snag. Or for you to be up at three am, cleaning out paint from your custom diamond pieces with the toothbrush.” 

“One less thing to jiggle around.” He said, heading for the canvases. “These really are big.” You exited your booth too, joining him, also in your birthday suit. “Shall we begin? Please, no pastels for me.” By the time he was halfway done with putting paint on you, you noticed him fidgeting and noticed why, as well. “Look, it happens, okay? You’re young and fit, a breeze coming in through the open window can give you a semi. It’s fine.” “It’s not a breeze though, it’s you. “ Hyunjin said. “You’re just so fine, and the fact that you wanted us to do this, even naked… so hot. But don’t worry, I’ll behave. I know how you feel about sex with men lately.” 

“Er, that was almost two years ago. The sex itself is not the issue, the other shit it came with is. And… you think that’s the issue??? Hold up… excuse me for presuming here but… I didn’t think you’d be into me. Chan said you don’t like women.”

“He… what?” Hyunjin gasped so hard you feared he might straight up hyperventilate. “Or… that’s what I understood. I don’t remember the exact phrasing but he said that if you fished in the same pond no one would ever be so much as noticed by girls.” “Well maybe I don’t crop dust my charms all over the world because I’m not about all that. Whenever my hormones are taking the reigns, I use that energy and that drive to make art, to dance, to train, to push myself harder. To be the perfect whore for Stay so they’ll give me the most attention. I really don’t think I have to be a slave to every erection that comes and goes. I guess from the others’ end it might look different.” He said, looking down at his now behaving dick. “Case in point. Although I’ve been insanely attracted to you since we met, but then you went for Channie and I thought, eh, we’re not the same type, I’m not even an option. I’m not as confident and in charge as him and I’m shy so I… decided I would take any kind of place in your life you deigned to give me. But then he broke up with you, like a donkey, I might add, and you were so hurt and defeated, I though it inappropriate to still have a crush on you. I didn’t want to feel like I was friends with you for… predatory reasons. Just know that I think you’re everything and also… there’s these. Warning, I am not trying to be a pervert but look… I’ve had it done in Japan.” The madman. The absolute, perfect, amazing dumbass, you thought, looking at the twin scars. 

You pointed to yours, now faded and pretty much invisible unless you drew attention to them.

“We… we actually match.” You said, feeling tears threaten to spill. “Jinnie… I’m going to cry! But… are you sure? That’s pretty extreme.” “I am crying! And yes, I am very sure. I can always adopt a child who needs love, and between you and me every time I hear people say how beautiful my kids will be with this creepy sort of entitlement… I used to shudder, now I can laugh about it.” He said, scooching closer to hug you. “We’re mixing up our paints. And… and I can’t believe I scrounged up the balls to tell you. And you like it? Like… me?” “Jinnie… you’ve given me back to me this past year plus. And it’s not just gratitude, don’t think you have to work hard to earn my affection, but… you carved out all the darkness from my world and replaced it with your colours. I should be so lucky to have your love, in this way or another. Your love is worth the risk. You’ve taught me there are no guarantees beyond what we choose to give each other today. And I want your love, if you want mine in return.” 

Hyunjin just sobbed harder, everything else forgotten for a long, elastic moment stretching outside of time, in which the two of you sat naked and entangled in the middle of a tarp, covered in colours. Still crying, Hyunjin took your hand and helped you up. He rolled you across your canvas and you moved him across his own. You then stood, together, looking at your finished art pieces from further away. “They’re beautiful, Jinnie.” You said, moving closer to him and taking his hand in yours. “And they match perfectly. Like us.” He said, finally finding your lips with his, enveloping you in his arms and holding you close, glued to him. 

It didn’t even feel like you were naked with him then. He made you feel so safe and seen, you forgot you were supposed to feel self-conscious.

You went back to your place after the gallery, to wash the rest of the colours off and to continue your make-out session. Still damp and with steam coming off of your skins, you collapsed between your sheets together, kissing ravenously, hands roaming and mapping previously off limits parts. You ended up in a tangle of limbs on the bed, Hyunjin’s cock down your throat and his tongue in your pussy. The way you both pulled and squeezed at each other’s skin, trying to get deeper, closer, was matched only by the neediness in your sounds. You had always guessed Hyunjin was the vocal type, now you knew for sure and his gone moans and whimpers made your core clench painfully and your walls slicker. It felt good and normal, that sense of vulnerability you hadn’t liked before nowhere to be found. You knew, deep in the back of your mind, that you and Hyunjin were thick as thieves and even if he did move on from you sexually, he would never cut you out of his life and allow you to fade into the faceless crowd of people who orbit him but are inconsequential to him. He comes without warning, from you running a wet finger over his hole and you pull back a bit so you wouldn’t choke or hurt him, focusing on drinking him down and not spilling a drop. He tastes so clean and familiar, and you know it’s psychological, this part - the thought that taking his come inside you can’t harm you or change the course of your life to a trajectory not of your choosing. This is, of course, in line with how Hyunjin makes you feel in every other way: seen, protected and cared for. Like a precious secret or a superpower. 

You don’t expect to come, you’re too lost in the tsunami of emotions crashing down on you, and usually when there’s a disconnect between mind and body, nothing happens, but this time, Hyunjin pushes you down that steep slide by simply keeping at devouring you with his lips, his tongue, his long and gentle fingers. You don’t expect it, yet you start shaking like a leaf in autumn and feel yourself gush all over his face, an actual scream tearing out from you at how unexpectedly intense it feels. 

By the time you can breathe normally again and can string two thoughts together, Hyunjin is still panting and his skin feels like it’s burning. He’s sweating profusely, like from an hour-long dance practice. His hands are still idly caressing you where he can reach, your thighs, your hips, your belly. 

“Give me a moment and I’ll fuck you until we black out.” He says, his intoxicatingly appealing confidence making you shiver again. “Going to fuck every memory of Channie-hyung from you so you’re all mine.” 

It’s a double-edged sword kind of comment that could land well or really badly, but the fact that he risked it for your own benefit is incredible. 

Hyunjin already pieced all the broken parts of you together and glued them with his gold.  You don’t know why or how, certainly not because you’re special - because you know you’re not. But on the other hand, he went all in too, and if it’s all a cruel prank or some background bet with the boys, it’s a damn high value one. “You being in your head, listening to your mean girl voice?” Hyunjin asks, sitting up and coming to caress your face. “Tell me.” He adds, leaning down to lick your lips into opening, sucking your lower one and then biting into it just the right amount so it stings but doesn’t hurt. “I want you fully here for what I’m going to do to you.” 

His words make you gasp. “I’m still wondering why you chose me. I’m just a girl. Not even the prettiest.” 

“To me you are THE girl.” Hyunjin says, bringing a hand up to caress your lips with careful, featherlight fingertips. “You can learn so much about a person when you dance with them, it’s so intimate and electric. I’ve never felt like this, like I want to take all of you and put you inside me and protect you from the world.” 

His words send pure pleasure sparking up and down your spine, you never expected someone would feel like this about you and he’s right, that feeling when you dance together, that you are one soul in two bodies - you’ve felt it too and it was all-overpowering. 

You close your eyes briefly, against the tide of rushing sensations coursing through you. Underneath, like the dark waters of the ocean, are your feelings, which are also stirring. You could love Hyunjin in the same all-consuming, all-overtaking way he acts towards you. The feeling of safety he gives you is unlike anything you’ve felt before and makes you want to go anywhere he wants to take you. 

You become aware of the closeness of your bodies, the way your heated skins touch almost all over, with Hyunjin now half on top of you, with a leg bent and thrown possessively over you. His cock is pressed against your hip, leaking on your skin there, hard already. Everything about him is so ethereally beautiful, from his pillowy soft lips and his spindly, strong and gentle fingers, to his cock, long and thick and now hard again. You run the hand currently not carding through his hair down along the thigh he had flung across you, and the muscles shift subtly beneath your fingertips. He makes a completely ruined sound, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them to look at you. “Can I? Please, can I?”

“Yes, Jinnie, you can always have me. I’m all yours now.”

“Only mine, too.” He whispers, as though he’s manifesting it for himself. “Help me? I don’t want to mess this up.” You nod, reaching down and guiding him to rest against your entrance. One deep breath later and you’re breaching yourself  before he takes over, pushing in just the tiniest bit. The stretch is just on this side of pain, after so long. You’re turned on out of your mind though, and he can slide in easily, but you want to feel more of that stretch. “Slowly, until you bottom out. I want to feel all of this.” You say, voice coming out raspy and breathless. “Heavens, Jinnie - you feel perfect.” 

He lets out a breath he’s been holding for ages, it seems, lowering his forehead to yours. “I’m afraid to move. If I do, I’ll bust.” He says, his eyes closed. You could be with him like this forever. Him above you, inside you, trembling like a leaf from all the things rushing through him. He never looks more gorgeous than he does in moments like this one, fully naked with you, inside out, no make-up, no retouches. Soon, he does move - halfway propped up on an arm while the other one is under you, pulling you closer and anchoring him to you, wrecked-sounding and with eyes squeezed closed, lower lip chewed up and hair sticking in wet tendrils to his face and neck. He looks like a god. 

It takes him a bit to find an angle and a pace he can sustain, and all the pressing and wriggling around just pushes him closer into you, so close that every movement of his hips is felt in your clit, and you just know it’s a matter of when by now, not if he makes you come. “I can’t… fuck, I can’t…” he pants out in frustration. “I can’t hold it long enough, I’m sorry.” He adds, collapsing on you and peppering apologetic kisses all over your face and neck.

You know he means he can’t hold a steady rhythm in this position, not long enough to get you both to that place where you both fall over the edge. 

“Kneel up, baby. Sit back and spread your legs beneath me.” You guide him. He can definitely do it, he has the strength for it, and the hubris needed to attempt to pull off the switch in position while still inside you. 

“Oh… my… God!” He exclaims when it works and he finds himself with you in his lap, with your legs on either side of him, grinding on his length which is now buried impossibly deeper inside you. His first reaction once he’s sat down and his heels are digging into the sheets is to pull you close and bury his face in your neck, leaving a deep mark at the spot where your neck meets the shoulder. For a moment, he forgets to move up into you, distracted by how much closer he can have you now, how much easier it is to reach your neck, your collarbones, the swell of your breasts, your nipples. “Are you close, baby?” You press out, wanting his focus. If he forgets himself now, the rhythmic squeezing of your walls around his cock buried deep inside you and the maddening, overwhelming feel of his lips and fingers on your nipples will throw you over the edge and leave him behind. And any other time, that would be perfectly fine, but you need him with you this time, the first time of many. 

“Yes, fuck, this is so… it’s everything!” He pants. “I was close since you let me in. I’m barely holding on, so you don’t think I-” He gets cut off by the next squeeze of your walls around his length when you’re seated flush in his lap. “Oh fu-” Hyunjin goes cross-eyed briefly, holding on to you and pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you and locking you in, your front glued to his. 

Seeing him lose it for you, because of you, throws you over the edge too, sparks of pleasure turning into currents shooting up and down your spine, spreading tingles all over you, all the way to your toes. As soon as your heavy breathing goes down a bit, you lean in and kiss Hyunjin, stealing his breath and licking along his now spit-slick lips. He’s going slack beneath you and you push him backwards so he ends up lying down on the bed. You follow, his softening cock slipping out of you, causing you both to whine at the loss of contact and the sound of your bodies separating wetly. 

“That was… holy… I knew it would be good but… because it was with you, it was out of this world. I felt like I died and got zapped back to life.” Hyunjin speaks, his words leaving his chest slowly. He sounds so dreamy and relaxed, like he might fall asleep while talking. “I want to do it again and again, till I can’t move or remember my name. I want to let you try everything on me. Tie me up, fuck me, blindfold me, spank me, pi-” “Jinnie!” You chime from your comfy spot on top of him. “I appreciate the enthusiasm. I guess we have to stay together for a little while so we can try all the things you want.” 

“I want that. I want to try it all with you.” He says, sounding far away and half into the land of dreams already. “Wanna keep you fucked out and pleased all the time. Or… uhhh, do things in your own time? I want to tell Stay about you right away, to sort the haters out and to be able to be together like normal people.” "You don't have to. People are full of hate, Jinnie. I want you to keep being the loveable brat, the prince and the spoiled baby in public. You should be Stay's best and cutest husband, it's good for your career. Better than announcing a girlfriend." "But... won't you hate being kept a secret?" "Babe, I'm being selfish. I don't want the world to be in on our relationship. And well, statistically, we have more of a chance to last as a couple if we don't invite everyone else out there into it." "Then I'll do what feels right for you. I like being an idol and I love being yours now. If I can continue doing both... all the better. And we can keep hanging out like before, I need to see you every day when I'm around here." “Mmm, good thing you said that, I don’t want us to go from being besties to only being strictly dickly.” You say, finding a comfortable spot to snuggle next to your boyfriend. “A lot of people have dicks, but there’s only one of you, my good sweet Hyune.” 

“Don’t stop, go on,” he says, his eyes closed and a smile tugging on his lip corners. 

“You are so good to me, my baby. You gave me my joy back.” You say. “Wanna keep you to myself for so long.” 

You’re not sure he heard the last part, since he’s already snoring softly, like a cat purring itself to sleep. But the words that left your lips are enough of a shock to you already.  It’s the truth. Hyunjin never cared how much of a mess you were. To him, you’re the hottest thing in the world and he gave you more than 100% of himself in every way. 

[autistic-britta-perry]

my sister after we served drinks for a shift at this volunteer thing: *talking about how she likes it bc she gets to socialize a lot and chat with people* me who had found the experience nice BECAUSE I didn't have to talk to people beyond 'hello what do you want, here's the drink and this is the price: ..... huh

[icerosecrystal]

Daminette - How to Fail Being a Parent 101

(3rd Person POV)

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The girl that went from having everything to nothing. At least, that’s what it felt like right now. She still had Jagged and Penny, supporting her. But her parents threw her out of the house after the believed Lila’s lies. The shiny new thing over their daughter! Her friends also thought of her as a bully. At the age of 17, Marinette had no friends and no family. But little did she know that everything was soon going to change for her.

(Edna Mode’s POV)

Enda Mode was a great designer. But, she wanted, no needed an apprentice to carry her legacy. When Jagged Stone, along with his assistant Penny and Clara, told her of their designer MDC, she was ecstatic. And her designs were beautiful. Yes, MDC had the right amount of talent to be Edna’s apprentice. All she had to was find her.

She was walking to the bakery in Paris, where Jagged said his niece would most likely be. She arrived at the bakery and opened the door walking inside. There were two people inside. She asked them, “Hello, darlings. Do you, by any chance, know where Marinette is?”

She watched as both of the people stiffened, and then the female replied, “No, we used to be her parents, but we no longer consider her a daughter!”

Edna was confused by that. As far as Jagged said, Marinette’s parents had a good relationship with her. So what changed? She then once more asked, “Do you where I might be able to find her, darlings?”

Marinette’s supposed mother grew angry, “Who cares where she is! And if you’re trying to find her. You must be one of the bad influences that Lila was talking about, so get out of our bakery!”

Edna huffed and turned on her heel, walking out of the bakery door. Once she was outside, she pulled out her phone and called Jagged. “Jagged, I tried to go to the bakery, but her parents said that they kicked her out. Or at least they implied it by saying that she was no longer their daughter.”

“What?! That’s so not rock-and-roll! Hmm, well, Marinette did buy a safe house. If I remember correctly, the address is nineteen dauphin bleu. Good luck, and let me know when you find her.”

“Sure sure, darling,” Edna replied before ending the phone call. She quickly went to the address in hopes of finding her.

(Marinette’s POV)

Marinette was not sulking! She swears she isn’t! She’s just sad that her parents didn’t believe her. And hadn’t been doing anything for the past two days other than eating and watching shitty rom-coms… Okay, maybe she was sulking. But could you blame her! Her parents believed a liar over her, plus she had shitty coping skills with Hawkmoth still around. Before Hawkmoth, she would have cried for hours on end while eating strawberry ice cream. Now, she couldn’t do that at risk of an akumatization, and she was Ladybug. Fuck Hawkmoth, fuck Lila, fuck her stupid hormones.

The doorbell then rang. Marinette dragged herself to the door, not stopping to look through the peek hole. She regretted that because once she opened the door, on the other side, she found THE EDNA MODE. Marinette jumped in surprise and started to try and fix her appearance while rambling, “Oh my god, you’re Edna Mode. I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it was going to be you at the door! Otherwise, I would have made myself more presentable! Oh my god, it’s you!!! Most consider you better than Audrey Bourgeois, Style Queen herself. It is such an honor.”

Edna cut off Marinette’s rambling with a hand to her shoulder, “Please, darling, the pleasure all mine. I’m so happy to meet the famous MDC that Jagged, Clara, and Penny have been telling me so much about.” At hearing those words, Marinette looked seconds from passing out.

Edna followed Marinette to the couch and told her, “Now, I went to your parent’s bakery, but they said that they were no longer your parents. So, I want you to tell Auntie Edna everything! Okay?”

Marinette nodded, still in shock. She quickly shook her head to clear her head and then went on to explain about Lila. “There was this girl that came to my school three years ago. She claimed that she had an amazing life. And it would have been believable if all the things that she mentioned weren’t false. For example, she said that Jagged Stone wrote a song for her when she saved his cat from an airport runway. Jagged never had a cat. Civilians aren’t allowed on airport runways. And she’s making Jagged look like a pedophile, she’s underage, and he’s an adult. If she continues claiming this, Jagged could go to jail. There are a lot more unbelievable claims that she makes. Anyways, I knew she was lying, so I tried to disprove her lies. But, she covered it up. I went to the bathroom to cool down. Lila then came inside and confronted me, saying that she would take all my friends away. I didn’t think she would do it, I mean, I had faith in my friends.” Marinette’s voice cracked, and she started sobbing.

Edna waited for Marinette to continue talking. Marinette inhaled sharply and then continued, “My friends believed her over me. They knew me so much longer. But they picked the shinier thing. They bullied me every day, and Lila told them that I was bullying her. She made them beat me up, steal, and destroy my stuff. I thought that my parents would at least support me, but no, the wish of them supporting me was too much to ask. My parents also believed Lila over their daughter. THEIR DAUGHTER!!! They raised me, loved me, and then they believe someone else over me. At first, they started neglecting me, but then Lila came over one day and told them that I had given her death threat. After that, they kicked me out. I didn’t tell anyone not to feel weak. Now, here I am.”

Marinette finished talking and cried, letting loose all of the tears she had been holding in, but she then stopped. Enda looked at Marinette and told her something that shocked the daylights out of her, “Just because your Ladybug, that doesn’t mean you can’t let loose your emotions. If you bag all of it up, you will be at a larger risk of an akumitization. But, if you let your emotions out little by little, you won’t be as subjected to an akumitization.”

Marinette started stammering out excuses, shocked that Edna had figured it out, “O-oh I’m not Ladybug, I-i’m too clumsy to be her. L-ladybug has to be someone a-amazing to do what she d-does.”

Before she could continue, Edna held up her hand, effectively shutting Marinette up. “Marinette, darling, you don’t have to lie to me. Only an idiot would not be able to figure out your Ladybug. You look so much like her. (I did watch the NY special. And they did say that the magic of the miraculous is interfering with finding the identity of the heroes. But let’s pretend that the magic isn’t interfering, and everyone is just clueless. Well, they are clueless, but more clueless if possible.) Anyways, the reason that I was seeking you out in the first place was that I wanted you to be my apprentice. Would you like that?”

Marinette nodded, unable to speak. It was like a dream come true to her. When she rejected Audrey’s offer for an internship, she still had a reason to stay in Paris. Now that she had nothing left, this was the perfect way for her to get a new start, to leave her old life behind. Plus, who in their right mind would turn down being the apprentice of Edna Mode. Not an intern, an apprentice.

Edna clapped her hands together after Marinette gave her consent for being an apprentice. “That’s great, darling. Go pack everything you need. We’re leaving tomorrow at 6:00 AM.”

Marinette nodded, “Where will we be living?”

“Gotham City, New Jersey.”

(Time skip of a year)

(Edna’s POV)

It had been a year since Edna had gone to France to seek out Marinette or MDC. Since then, they moved to Gotham City, and Marinette made a name for herself there. She was an incredibly talented and a hard worker. She worked well under pressure and took criticism well. A lot of times, Marinette’s designs would bypass even her own. It would surprise Edna, but she was proud of her little coccinelle. She wanted to adopt Marinette, but she first wanted Marinette’s approval. For all Edna knew, Marinette wouldn’t want to have a parent figure again after what happened with her parents. Even if Edna didn’t adopt Marinette, she wanted Marinette to be the heir to Mode companies.

Today, Edna was meeting up with Bruce Wayne. He wanted him and his sons to get some suits, so today was the fitting. Marinette was with another client today so, she wouldn’t be meeting them. She heard the doorbell rang. That must be them, she thought. She opened the gates for them to enter the premises. A minute later, they were knocking on the front door. She let them in. When Edna saw them, she huffed at the height of all of the Wayne boys.

She went up to Bruce and beckoned him to bend down. Once he did saw, she greeted him with a kiss to each cheek and exclaimed “, Darling, I’m so glad that could make it. It’s so nice to see you and the rest of your boys.”

Bruce cleared his throat, “It’s nice to see you too, Edna. So, are we just doing measurements today, or are you also going to give us a design for the suits?”

“Ah, Bruce dear,” Edna started, “Art takes time. Plus, my amazing new apprentice will be designing your suits.”

Dick and Jason started laughing. “Look Bruce,” Dick guffawed, “She’s pulling a Bruce.” Tim laughed along with the other two, while Damian looked to be seconds away from smiling.

Bruce sighed, rubbing his forehead, “I’m sorry about them, Edna. You would think that a grown 30-year-old man would have some respect. I swear he has the maturity of a five-year-old.”

Edna waved him off, “Ah, it’s no harm done, Bruce. Dick is also right. I fully plan to adopt my apprentice. I only need her approval before I do so. I mean, she did turn eighteen only recently.”

Bruce looked shocked at this revelation, as did his sons, who were joking, not thinking in the slightest that it could be true. The great Edna Mode had never taken in an apprentice in her life, nor would she ever think of adopting someone. It was so out of character for her. “What happened to the girl that you feel this way,” Bruce asked.

Edna sighed, “Other than being a brilliant designer, who designs could rival my own, my little coccinelle has had a hard life. There was a girl who lied about her. This girl made all of her friends bully and isolate her. The worst part was when my coccinelle’s parents believed the liar over their daughter. They threw her out. When I heard about her designing from Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, I went to Paris to seek her out. When I went to her bakery, her parents were rude. I called and asked Jagged where she could be. He gave me her address. When I went there, she was a mess. I offered her the apprenticeship, she accepted. And a year later, here we are.”

The Wayne’s looked shocked at this. They then snapped out of it and, Edna then took their measurement and took note of any extra preferences they might have. She also asked what color they wanted for the suit jacket, shirt, and pants. Edna then asked whether they preferred a bow tie or a necktie. Finally, she asked what color they wanted the lining of their suits to be.

On their way out, Bruce asked Edna, “Would you and your apprentice like to come to the Wayne gala in return for making the suits in such short notice. Oh, and it is in two weeks.” Edna agreed and saw them out. Once they left, she sighed deeply. She then smiled to herself, thinking about Marinette’s reaction to the gala and having to design Wayne’s suits.

(Marinette’s POV)

Marinette was having a mental breakdown. WHY? Because Edna decided that having Marinette design Wayne’s suits was a good idea, as was going to Wayne Gala. So right now, Marinette was having a meltdown. And what was Edna doing? She was watching Marinette become a stuttering mess and trying to figure out how she was going to do something like this.

“Marinette, calm down! Just do your best and, you’ll figure the rest out,” Edna told her.

Marinette nodded and went to her room to start planning the designs and creating them. For almost two weeks, she worked tirelessly on end to complete the designs, and make a dress for herself. And by the day before the gala, Marinette had completed the suits. Alfred came to Edna’s manor to get them for the Waynes.

Once Alfred picked them up, Edna went to Marinette’s room and knocked. Once Marinette said to come in, Edna opened the door and walked in. Marinette looked at Edna, wondering why she was here. But, she then asked a question that Marinette so happy, “My little coccinelle, would you like it if I adopted you?”

Marinette couldn’t answer from happiness. Instead, she jumped on Edna with tears in her eyes and kept on chanting, “Yes, yes, yes!” They both sat like that until Marinette fell asleep, happy that they were now legally going to be family.

On the day of the Wayne gala, Marinette wore a burgundy dress with silver details on the upper part of the dress. She wore silver shoes that had a glass flower on the toes and a silver handbag. Marinette, also matching silver earrings and a necklace. She decided to let her hair loose into beautiful waves.

Edna wore a simple black dress with some white pearl details along with a black handbag with silver and black shoes.

They then left for the Wayne gala. Once they arrived at the Wayne gala, they spotted the Wayne’s wearing Marinette’s amazing designs.

Once the Waynes spotted Edna, they walked over in hopes of meeting her apprentice. Edna saw them coming and Marinette to them. “Boys, this is my apprentice Marinette Mode. Marinette, this is Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian.”

“Wait, so you legally adopted her?” Tim asked.

“Yes, I did, yesterday,” Edna replied.

Marinette smiled brightly at the Waynes and said, “It’s nice to meet you all. I hope that you like the suits that I made.” The Wayne’s gave their gratitude for the suits. They then all dispersed, except for Damian. He was still staring at Marinette, as Marinette was staring at him. They both started talking at the same time,

“Hi, it’s nice-”

“Hey, I rea-”

They both laughed, and Marinette said, “You go first.”

“I was going to tell you how fond I am of this suit. You did an acceptable job.”

“Thank you,” Marinette muttered, “I was going to say that it’s nice to meet you. So tell me about yourself.”

And the pair went on to talking about anything and everything together. Marinette couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. How his beautiful tan skin glistened in the light. How soft his dark, silky hair looked, and his eyes. Oh, his eyes were the best part, a perfect balance between jade and emerald green, giving it a shine, but not making it look toxic. He was so handsome. As she continues talking with him, she realized, she liked him, she wanted him to kiss her, hold her. But they had just met. Little did she know that Damian had similar thoughts running through his head.

(3rd person POV)

Damian thought that Marinette was absolutely beautiful with her silky raven hair. Her pink pouty lips along with her glistening bluebell eyes. Her fair skin was showered with little freckles that made her even prettier. Words could not describe how beautiful she was.

From an outside view, Marinette and Damian were looking like lovesick fools. Laughing, talking, never leaving each other’s side. By the end of the night, they separated with each other’s phone number, and a promise to meet again for a date.

(Time Skip of three months)

(Marinette POV)

It had been three months since the gala. The day after the gala, Damian took her to Gotham park for a nice picnic. On their second date, they went to the rooftop of one of Bruce’s buildings and watched the sunset from there. Their third date was the date where Damian asked Marinette if she would like to be his girlfriend. He took her to an expensive restaurant and after they walked on the pier. There he took out a necklace with a silver chain and “I love you for always and forever” written on it. The pendant was in the shape of a heart.  He gave it to her as he asked her to be his girlfriend. She jumped on him kissing him with so much force and passion and then pulled away, breathing out a, “Yes!”

Since then, they had been inseparable. Damian and Marinette told each other everything. Well, almost everything, she still hadn’t told Damian about being Ladybug. And Marinette knew he was also hiding something the way he would get bruises for no reason. She didn’t know what he was hiding until she stumbled across something when she was at the Manor one day.

She had gotten lost again. The Wayne Manor was huge. Marinette knew she was going to get lost, but she always had someone to help her. Marinette then heard some noises. She stumbled towards the noise. The sight that she was met with made her head throb. There in front of her were the occupants of the house. But not as the Wayes. No, they were there as the Bat-Family. The Waynes were the BAT FAMILY! Of course, she would end up falling in love with a vigilante.

Once they caught sight of her, all noises ceased. They didn’t do anything until Damian let out a feeble, “Beloved?”

Marinette turned her attention to Damian, “When were you going to tell me about this? And no, I am not mad. But you should have TOLD me. I shouldn’t have had to find out by myself.”

Damian sighed and told her, “I didn’t want to endanger your life.”

She snorted, “Yeah, like I don’t do that daily.”

“What?!” Everyone screamed at the implications that she was giving.

“Yup, I’m a hero from Paris. Tikki, Spots on!” She then transformed into Ladybug. Once Marinette transformed, she looked at the opened mouth vigilantes. “In Paris, my old partner and I protect the citizens from a guy named Hawkmoth, who preys off of people’s emotions to turn them into his minions, I’ve been fighting him for about four years now. I did send a message to the Justice League, but Green Lantern told me to stop prank calling. I’ve been fighting him by myself for two years because my old partner was harassing me.” She then went on to explain different akumitizations and went more in-depth about her powers.

“Spot off”, she said. She held her hand out and let Tikki sit in it, “This is my kwami Tikki, she is the one who lets me turn into Ladybug.” Everyone, surprisingly, took her reservations well.

By the end, Batman told her, “We would like to help you defeat Hawkmoth. We can start by uncovering who he is. We can do that by taking his voice and running it through some voice scanners until we find a match.” Marinette nodded, happy that they were getting somewhere.

She pulled up a video of Hawkmoth speaking while telling Batman, “By the way, Mom’s going to be here in ten minutes.”

They looked at her, bewildered, “What do you mean?”

She rolled her eyes and handed them her phone with the recording, “What I mean is that she knows that you are the Bat-Family. She figured it out like she figured out my identity.” They all nodded, dumbfounded that someone knew their identity.

Tim or Red Robin ran the voice through the scanners before they found a match. “Gabriel Agreste”, Marinette breathed, “I suspected him before, but he got akumatized. He must have akumatized himself to throw off suspicion.”

That’s when Edna arrived, “Did you figure out Hawkmoth’s identity”, Edna asked. Marinette nodded and pointed to the screen. Edna looked at it and scoffed, “Of course it’s Gabriel. I always knew he was a psychopath!” Marinette started laughing at Edna’s reaction and hugged her. Edna’s face softened, and she stroked Marinette’s hair lightly.

The bat family watched the scene with growing bewilderment. Damian cleared his throat, bringing the attention to him. “As much as I love to see how much my angel’s and Mode’s relationship is growing, we have more pressing matters. How are we going to catch Hawkmoth.”

Marinette thought about it before saying, “A distraction.” She turned to Edna, “Mom, you are going to set up a meeting with Gabriel and distract him. While you’re doing that, we’ll break into the house and go to his hideout. Actually”, she turned to Tim,“ Tim, could you look into the security cameras and see if there is any footage of him disappearing in some way. Or could you get a layout of the house?”

“Done and done,” Tim answered. They watched Gabriel push three specific buttons on Emile’s portrait, which Marinette took note of. They then saw him disappear underneath the ground. Tim pulled the layout of the house up. “This is the layout, based on it, we can conclude that he was going to the room beneath the house.”

Marinette nodded her head, “Okay, this is perfect. Once we sneak in there, we’ll look around, gather some evidence, and then sneak up on Gabriel and take the brooch from him.”

Everyone cheered and then left to do their own thing. Damian stopped Marinette from leaving. He pulled her to him and said in a sexy, gruff voice, “I’m glad that I know every part of you now.” He then dove for her lips, prompting a squeak from Marinette. After a few seconds, she relaxed in the kiss, pulling Damian closer by wrapping her arms around his neck. He put one hand around her waist, and the other one was in her sweet-smelling raven hair. The kiss felt amazing. His warm, soft lips against her luscious, sweet ones. Her lips tasted sweet like sugar, making Damian want to kiss her longer and harder. But, humans need to breathe. They pulled away panting heavily, faces flushed in passion. They stared into each other’s eyes for a little bit before kissing each other once more, this one being chaste rather than hot and heavy. They then let each other go and went to prepare for the demise of Hawkmoth.

The next day, they followed through with the plan. Edna first entered the house and talked loudly to Gabriel, demanding that he bring his son and Natalie to the meeting so that they can all catch up. Once the occupants of the Agreste household were out of the way, Ladybug and the Bats made their way to the picture of Emile. There they pressed the exact buttons and went underneath the house. There they found hundreds of white butterflies along with a horrifying sight. Emilie Agreste being preserved in a coffin and in what looked like to be a coma. Marinette was convinced that she could heal Emilie, went up to the coffin, and set to work. She closed her eyes and put her hands to the outside of the coffin. She then let her power flow through her body until they were at her hands. She then kept her glowing hands to the coffin until she heard a cough. She opened her eyes to find Emilie sitting up, looking around in shock, “Where’s my husband?” she asked, “Where’s Adrien?”

Marinette put her hand to Emile’s shoulder, “We’ll explain everything to you after ma'am. But, we first need to do something.” She walked over to the platform and rose herself to the upper floor, along with everyone else. She then saw Edna, Gabriel, Adrien, and Natalie already there. Everyone positioned themselves and got ready to attack. At the count of three, everyone moved. Marinette grabbed the brooch from Gabriel, Bruce grabbed the peacock brooch from Natalie, and Damian grabbed the ring from Adrien. The Agreste’s and Natalie turned to the heroes in anger, but then froze when they caught sight of Emilie.

Emilie, now understanding that her family must have done something bad, for these people to take away their miraculous, started sobbing. Marinette went up to her and comforted her while telling her everything that she missed. Edna called the police, while the Bat-Family made sure that not of the Agreste’s nor Natalie escaped.

(3rd person POV)

When the police arrived, they were surprised to find that designer Gabriel Agreste, his son, and his assistant were guilty of the terrorism in Paris. They were going to jail. Then, reporters arrived, broadcasting the defeat of Hawkmoth to the world, but then Gabriel said something that made some happy, while it froze the blood in many others, “Lila Rossi was also part of this! She was an accomplice to my schemes! Lila was trying to push Marinette Dupain-Cheng to an akumitization because I realized how powerful of an Akuma Marinette would become. So Lila went to great length to make her suffer, but then she left Paris, and I wasn’t able to akumatize her. If you should be arresting anyone else, it should be Lila Rossi!”

In her house, a liar was growing pale as the authorities banged on her door. When she didn’t open up, they kicked down the door and arrested her. Lila then let out a scream that the whole world would have heard.

When the government saw that two accomplices for Hawkmoth were in the same class from Francios Dupont Highschool, they had to school investigated. They investigated both the principal and Madame Bustier. They found out that both would take bribes and were enablers. They then investigated the students in Madame Bustier’s class. They found that the students were being sued which wasn’t that bad. But, they were being sued for slander, defamation, and more, by not only Edna Mode but also Bruce Wayne. The government looked at security cameras and found many forms of breaking and entering, abuse, bullying, and found many forms of slander online. All of the students along with the teacher and principal were going to have to serve jail time. But, it would be nowhere as long as Lila’s, Adrien’s, Natalie’s, or Gabriel’s jail time.

(Marinette POV)

Marinette was staying in the Grand Hotel when her ex-parents came knocking at her door. They were all smiles, “Marinette, now that we know that we actually raised you right, you can come home with us!”

Marinette just scowled back at them, “As much as I appreciate the offer, you aren’t my guardians anymore. Edna Mode adopted me and I am legally Marinette Mode. Have a good day!” She then slammed the door shut in their faces. She leaned her head against the door and sighed deeply.

She felt a pair of arms wrap around her and kiss her neck gently, “You going to be okay?”

Marinette turned around and smiled at him, “Yeah, I am.”

Five hours later, when Marinette turned on the news, it showed Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng going to jail. They were charged for child neglecting and abuse. Marinette shook her head, chuckling, knowing that it was Damian who did this. She inhaled deeply, oh well, all’s well that ends well.

(Time Skip of 15 years)

A thirty-three-year-old Marinette put the baby in her hands down in the crib. After everything that happened in Paris, Damian and Marinette had continued dating. Damian proposed on their one-year anniversary and the got married a year later. They now had an 11-year-old daughter named Amira Beth Wayne, a 6-year-old boy Grayson Abbas Wayne, and 1-year-old Sadiya Cathy Wayne. Marinette was now the CEO of Mode Companies, while Damian ran Wayne Enterprises along with Tim as Co-CEOs. As Marinette looked at her children she couldn’t believe that she managed to have such a good life. She felt Damian behind her so she leaned back into him. He kissed the back her head and whispered huskily in her ear, “I love you and I promise that I and the kids will be by your side. Forever and always.”

Marinette snuggled into Damian and squeezed his hand whispering, “Forever and always.”

[modx-reborn]

Always on Call Pt.1

The first part of my SW fic, there will be multipul chapters with different characters each time.

Just a note, if depections of Sex work or Sex work themes are uncomfy for you please stear clear, also this is written with insite from my personal interactions and professional backround in Sex work.

Up first is our warden and his first time behind these club doors!

Light Smut ahead. Minors DNI

It started back under Schlatt’s rule, the club started as a quick way for people to make more money now that taxes were being imposed on people, based simply on how well you behaved, and yet even now that the horrid ram hybrid was long gone the club still stands.

Hidden away from the new government’s eyes, a door tucked away only used by the regulars that still want what is offered or someone who managed to stumble upon it and becomes enamoured with the secret life that they can live inside these walls.

Customers come and go some nights not finding what they are looking for and other nights it’s back to back bookings, different faces and different needs all blending together into one another. Yet here you are again, walking through those doors once more, the kind woman behind the desk clears you through the worker’s door and into the back room, with a quick note that someone is waiting to meet you.

Chatter and laughter mix all around, floor workers telling tales about that last client or some of the older faces sit close talking about old regulars.

You may not have been around as long as the girl who whispers to whoever will listen about the man who used to come in, smelling of ash and gunpowder, but most of the good clients know your face but tonight was something different, a new person had asked for you.

New clients were rare, and ones asking after you more so as your shifts are more scattered, something like a special treat than a regular who has set days.

But tonight was simple an intro and then if all goes well, a booking no longer than 45mins for a first encounter, and maybe even a new face to add to the regulars that come for you.  Getting ready is simple, a black bodysuit under a too-short skirt, something that is easy to get in and out of but still nice enough to draw the eye.

Tucked away behind a set of dark curtains sits the new client, the club’s soul fire lanterns cast interesting shadows against green skin and gold adornments, seeing a hybrid in a crown is more common than you would think but the equally as gold rebreather that frame sharp green eyes is new.

“So I finally have a face to the name dream has spoken about, I’m Sam, please sit,”

The intro is pleasant enough, all his questions are clear and concise ‘What services do you provide?’, 'What is extra?’, 'Is there any things that you offer that is not available today?’, and the drawl as he speaks definitely makes the experience even better.  

Leading him to the desk after is easy and getting him into the room even easier, leaving him to shower, as once you were back in the room it was playtime.

You took a breath, your goal here was to make him feel good like he expected, getting to enjoy the dips and defined muscles that are now on display is a benefit on top of it all. Getting him to lay down was easy and all his questions made this easy.

All I had to do was show him the worship he asked for.

You rubbed his thighs, admiring the muscle and internally wondering what he must do to be so well built but needy enough to come to the club. Leaning up, you rest one hand above his shoulder while the other rests beside his torso. From there you leaned down, pressing kisses to his skin starting at his jaw and slowly moving downwards.

Each patch of deeper green freckles gets an extra pass, additional affection to what may be considered an othering feature.

Pressing closer another gold adornment is now clear to see, two small gold nipple piercings, quite the contrast to the light green of his chest. “An interesting choice for piercings Sam,” your tone teasing as gentle tweaks draw a quiet noise from him but nothing else.

It isn’t until your hands touch his thighs that he jumps, a small moan following right after. You wonder when he’d moved his hands, bunching the drop sheet instead of laying at his sides. You make to pull away, questions ready but he only raises his hips slightly “Keep going, please.”

He bucked his hips up into your touch when your hand brushed too close to his hips, his back arching “Don’t tease- mmph.” He bit his lip before he could say anymore, trying to hold back. His dick was painfully hard, twitching against his stomach as precum leaked from the tip. You moved one of your hands to wrap around it, leaving the other to rest on his thigh.

Back arching, pushing himself further into your hand as he threw his head back “Oh fuck,” His hands tightly gripping the sheets after only having wrapped your hand around him had your thighs pressing together, stomach tightening as you moved your hand to the tip before dragging it down, his precum acting as a lubricant when you began to move your hand up and down.

He was panting now, flushed down to his neck as he still continued to grasp the sheets. His hips began to move faster than the pace you set, essentially fucking your hand as he moaned praises.

“S-so fucking good. Go-god, please don’t stop,”

Your own breathing was harsh and you’d say you were getting just as much pleasure out this as he was. He looked so good like this, it was a borderline power trip to see such a well build man crumble like this. Under all that gold and muscle was someone so needy.

But the thoughts of keeping him on edge whining out what he wants, in that drawl of his, endlessly begging as you edge him over and over again would have to be pushed aside, for now, this was about him.

You increased your pace, clenching your thighs to try and provide yourself with some relief in the meantime as he began to lose himself, one of his hands tightly gripping the sheet below him and the other grasping your shoulder as if you would pull away and leave him like that, restraint slowly lost as he began to fuck your hand harder, increasing the pace to match his thrusts as he finally let out a deep almost hissing gasp.

“Ahn, yes, yes yes, oh fuck!”  

His pace became erratic, a few more thrusts before his back arched off the bed. His legs trembled as he came with a drawn-out moan. You stroked him through it, slowing down with the aftershocks as it dripped over your hand, some even landing on his stomach as he rolled his hips into your hand a few more times before he sank bank into the mattress, a sigh leaving him as he relaxed.

“T-tell me if this is overstepping. But are you always on call? Cause if so, I will definitely be back,”

[qqueenofhades]

pel!ivan and fedyor went through a lot of ups and some downs from the end of pel and 2021 but they also celebrated 10 years together 🥳 i hope fedyor shoved cake into ivan’s face and also you know, im sure they were mushy like the saps they are

Ivan was supposed to be out of here ten minutes ago – actually, at this point, more like twenty – but the clients are still fucking talking, and if they keep it up much longer, he’s going to add it to the bill for “initial consultation.” Drew has a man-bun and unbearably hip black glasses, and works as a developer for some start-up app that he’s tried to convince Ivan to download at least twelve times. (What does the app actually do? Don’t know don’t care.) Mia is thin, blonde, waifish, smells like essential oils, and has been flitting around with her smartphone the entire time, getting in Ivan’s way as she snaps perfectly filtered pictures of the “developmental process” and posts them nonstop on Instagram. They both have a lot of opinions on how they want the energy of the space to feel, and a preapproved list of ethically sourced suppliers. They have paid some ludicrous price for this converted loft in Prospect Heights and chose the location for its proximity to the best farmer’s markets and hippie coffeehouses. Did Ivan die? Is this hell?

Somewhat ostentatiously, he looks at his watch. “Okay,” he announces. “I think that wraps up. You have work number, so – ”

“Oh, just one more thing!” Drew has recently read one (1) book on home design and thinks he’s an expert, so Ivan is forced to suffer his idiotic opinions about the kind of tile they want to use on the kitchen backsplash. Somehow, he manages not to roll his eyes directly out of his head, for which he should be commended. Ivan has discovered that the secret of successfully dealing with people, especially clients, is to smile and nod at everything they say, while mercilessly mocking them in your head. Amazing, the things you learn as a small-business owner in Brooklyn in the year of our lord 2021. Especially when it comes to renovating overpriced tiny gentrified apartments for insufferable techno-douchebags and their vapid influencer girlfriends. And people think Ivan might want to live like this more often? No fucking thank you.

Finally (it’s another ten minutes after that, this is definitely going on the bill), they more or less wrap up, except for the fact that Mia then wants a picture with the three of them. “It’s just so important to us that we’re supporting the immigrant community,” she explains earnestly. “After all, being open, tolerant, learning from our neighbors, people who are different from us, that’s what life is all about. We just love that you’re foreign. The energy feels so right, you know?”

Ivan wonders whether to inform her that he has lived in this country for eight years and been a full citizen (passport and voting rights and everything) for three, then decides that this would venture into sharing-personal-information territory and he is having none of it. His English has improved to the point where he can handle almost all business transactions by himself, but feigning incomprehension can sometimes get him out of them when they turn really stupid. Unfortunately, that isn’t an option here, and so he diligently leans into the frame, smiling half an inch, while Mia snaps a picture of “us and our adorable Russian contractor!!” Ivan informs her of the correct flag emoji to add to the filter, decides that he’s going to add an extra fifty bucks just for that, and finally, finally, makes his escape.

It’s rush hour, and the Q is crammed as Ivan heads into midtown. So much for social distancing and not getting too close to anyone, which is the only thing from the pandemic that he wouldn’t mind keeping. Only about half the crowd is wearing masks, including him, and so he gets off at Times Square, dodges the latest lunatic standing on a soapbox and shouting about how it is all a hoax, and walks several blocks uptown, just to get some space. He finally reaches the restaurant, where he has to flash his vaccination card to get inside (Ivan, who remains Russian to the marrow of his bones, is a little irked that he couldn’t get Sputnik here and had to settle for Pfizer) and climbs up to the open-air rooftop terrace. It is only when he spots his husband, waiting at a table that overlooks the glittering evening lights of the city, when Ivan pulls off his mask and allows himself to properly smile. “Sorry I’m late,” he says. “They are the worst.”

“I figured it was something like that.” Fedyor musters a smile in return, though his eyes look permanently tired these days and Ivan would bet that he’s been scrolling through more depressing emails on his phone. Technically Fedyor is on a two-month sabbatical from work, but he can’t stop himself, and Ivan has had to pry it from his fingers on a number of occasions. “But you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Ivan nods stoutly, they are furnished with the drinks and appetizers list, and when the waiter asks if there’s any special occasion tonight, tell him that they are celebrating their ten-year anniversary, albeit somewhat late. This was supposed to happen last spring, but obviously, nobody in New York was going out to a restaurant in the early months of 2020, and Ivan himself had barely gotten home from the hospital and still could be knocked over in a strong breeze. They’re celebrating a lot of things tonight, in other words, even if it’s now been eleven years, not ten, since the day Ivan marched into a Red Square coffee shop and engaged in – well, Fedyor has made sure to inform him that the first date didn’t go nearly as well as Ivan always thought it did. But it worked, didn’t it? Here they are, wedding bands on their fingers, a couple of successful American urban professionals who have built a nice life for themselves and are, if anything, even more madly in love than they were when this whole nutty adventure together first began. So really, if you ask Ivan Sakharov Kaminsky, it went just fine after all.

The waiter congratulates them, gives them two drinks for the price of one, and they both relax and start to talk, fully at ease in the way they only are in each other’s company. Ivan does his Mia impression in an extremely convincing falsetto (after all, [NAME REDACTED] has practice at this) and Fedyor almost dies laughing. They hold hands on the table – no need to hold them under the table – and gaze into each other’s eyes all they want, order dinner and dessert, and take a long time about it. They raise several toasts to this, to them, to ten years, may there be many more. Ivan pays the bill, his treat, and they walk slowly back to Times Square, hand-in-hand, Fedyor’s head nestled on Ivan’s shoulder. It’s New York. Nobody cares.

They ride the Q home, in all its smelly, secondhand glory, taking an hour to bang out to Brighton Beach and descending the elevated stairs into the familiar down-at-heel comfort of their Russian-American neighborhood, neon Cyrillic signs glowing in windows and somebody shouting about how if Sergei ever shows his face here again, she is going to cut his dick off. Ivan and Fedyor look at each other and snort, resisting the urge to shout up and ask what exactly Sergei did, and walk a few more minutes to their building. They climb up three flights of stairs to their apartment, unlock the door and the deadbolt, and step inside.

The instant they are home, Rasputin shoots out of nowhere, yowling as if he has been neglected for months, and curls himself around Ivan’s ankles (he is still liable to give Fedyor evil looks when he feels that this interloper has been stealing his human too often). Ivan sighs, trudges to the kitchen, points out to Rasputin that his food bowl is still half full, gets a wounded look in return, and adds an extra scoopful. Once the cat is happily snarfing down, Fedyor pulls Ivan by the hand, into the dim living room with its blowing curtains. “Come here, my love,” he says. “Hold me.”

Ivan does as ordered, because it’s his favorite thing in the world: cuddling Fedyor close, nothing but the two of them in all of time and space, swaying slowly in the blue hour with fingers and arms and hearts entwined. Ivan kisses Fedyor’s temple, and Fedyor nestles even closer, melted into his embrace. “I love you, Vanya,” he mumbles against Ivan’s collarbone. “I love you so much. I love you more than anything in the world. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too, Fedya.” Ivan leans down and kisses him properly, sweet and slow and lingering, as they continue to waltz in stately time to a music that nobody except the two of them can hear. “I’m still not always sure why you married me, but I am very glad you did.”

[thelovelyghostwriter]

Neon Nostrade ABC NS/FW Headcanons

Okay. I’m gonna do this for our baby girl because well, she has a different set of kinks altogether. 

By the way, I will be referring to KuroNeon and KuroNeon when I’m doing this headcanon. 

Rated R Warning: Lots of vulgar terms. Don't like don't read. Don't go inside a cave and complain it's dark. I will block anyone who complains.

Let’s go for the ABC Headcanons of this brat: 

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

She’s two moods: either really drowsy after a good fuck or talkative. If she’s worn out good, she will be very sleepy and just want to lie on her partner’s chest. 

If she still has energy left, she likes to have a pillow talk with her partner. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Girlie is proud of her curves and face. She knows she’s cute and she has the curves. She’s not afraid to dress up for her man and drive them absolutely crazy. 

She likes her partner’s biceps and back. She likes to scratch and caress them when they are in a missionary position. 

If she's with Kurapika and knows his Kurta identity, she worships his eyes (kinda fucked up but yes!). She likes how it turns scarlet because of his deep intense lust (and maybe hatred) while they’re having sex. She finds it alluring, like a moth to a flame. For Chrollo, it's his spider tattoo.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This girl swallows. Nuff’ said. She likes to be milked too. She's submissive and breedable.

She also likes having her partner's fingers stuffed into her mouth after they finger her. A little taste on how wet she is. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She has a bunch of lingerie shoots that doesn’t show her face. She then post it on OnlyFans to gain extra income. Just lingerie pics because she enjoys modelling for it. However, she won't show her pussy or boobs. Those are VIP access only.

She also fucks her new head bodyguard aka Kurapika and had a one time fling with Chrollo. Papa must never know this.

Good girls are just bad girls who haven't been caught.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not so much. She isn't a virgin per se (really think one of her clients or Chrollo took her virginity), but she also hasn't gotten around much due to her father having people to guard her 24/7. She usually doesn’t take the lead so most of the time she just goes with the flow. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything to do with her partner dominating her. Girlie likes to get dicked down hard. So think of missionary, doggy and all sorts of variations that goes deep.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

She is very childish and teasing alright. She's not serious about it. To her, sex is for fun. She wants to enjoy it. She giggles a lot whenever she gets a pleasant reaction from her partner.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yeah. She goes to those high-end bikini waxing services to get her pussy groomed once ever three months. She may show her lingerie to others but she only shows her lady parts to someone special and she has to make herself look presentable.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Uhhh... she is playful. She usually relies on the non-sexual dating part that her partner does for the romance.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This girl likes to read smuts or listen to audios to get herself wet. If she really wants to get down on it, she uses a good ol' vibrator to buzz herself. She has to do it in a room though, where no one is around.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

*clears throat* This girl makes the best porn to write LMAO. I can think of a few kinks when it comes to her (and her r/s with Chrollo or Kurapika).

With Kurapika:

Discipline and Bondage: Her bratty attitude pisses off his stern no-bullshit personality. Sometimes she does it on purpose to egg him to punish and fuck her. She secretly enjoys it when he spanks her, be it using his hand or his belt. She realises that he might be into bondage based on the chains on his hand so she suggested tying her up. They used ropes, clothes, handcuffs and of course (actual, not his Nen) chains. He sometimes chains her up Shibari style and likes to see her pussy drool over the chains. This starts whenever she acts up, throws a tantrum and Kurapika has to deal with her bs. It's not easy disciplining this naughty brat but he likes the challenge until she's an obedient brat begging to be his cumslut. When she's being a good girl, he'll reward her with a good fucking and another present (e.g. jewellery or handbag or whatever she wants).

Degrading and Humiliation: This comes with the disciplining part. Whenever he disciplines her, it comes with degrading her. Neon loves to be called all sorts of degrading terms: slut, whore, brat. He's usually very uptight so it turns her on when he gets vulgar during sex. It gets even more intense when it's hate-fucking. He's supposed to dislike flesh collectors but here he is enjoying the flesh of a pretty collector, and so they engage in hate-sex filled with degrading her and Neon loves every filthy second of it.

Breeding: Yes, I know I said Kurapika ain't gonna want kids, based on my analysis of him and it makes sense. Only after he accidentally knocks her up, then he'll realise "hey, this ain't bad". So when Kurapika realises that perhaps repopulating the clan isn't that bad, Neon is more than happy to produce kids with him and be the freakin Kurta baby factory. The whole baby-making process is fun, they will make sure they won't waste a single cum drop. Neon also loves to address Kurapika as "Daddy" because she knows it makes him feel powerful and it represents fathering her children. Sorry Light Nostrade, Neon has another daddy now.

With Chrollo:

DD/LG: Their age gap and height difference screams sugar dating. He loves to indulge in her materialism and spoils her like a brat she is (he just steals those items and gives it to her). Chrollo is one freaky mf who calls her princess, kitten, baby girl and all sorts of really cute nicknames. Chrollo isn't like Kurapika who would degrade her. He likes to praise his little sex bunny because positive reinforcement works. He wants her to dress up in all those frizzy lingerie costumes and roleplay in DD/LG.

Toys: [See the T for Toys for this one]

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

One word: power. 

That is in the form of money and dominance in her partner. She loves it when they give her what she wants materially, be it that nice taxidermy butterfly necklace or that designer brand clothes and accessories. She doesn't care how you get it, but if you give it to her, she's sure to reward you.

Another thing that for sure turns them on is being dominated. Be it with Kurapika, Chrollo or anyone else, Neon loves to be dominated and fucked. Hold her by the neck. Let her know who is in charge. Make her beg to be fucked. A little possessive dirty talk will get her wet. Anything to do with establishing ownership of her.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Neon likes having sex in the bedroom or in the guy's office. She likes to disturb her partner while he's working so they end up doing it in the office. Or some luxurious hotel. A bathtub will be good too.

There's a very specific location I want to write her having sex with Kurapika. A location so messed up yet so angsty but I will keep quiet about it for now. You would need to be one creative sicko like me to guess this one. Heh. 😶😶

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

A big no is her being 100% dom. Neon is kinda lazy in that aspect. She doesn't like to do all the work and wants the pleasure/pain handed to her. At most, she'll ride the guy while she's on top but she's going to be a real tease about it, hoping that they would get impatient and flip her over. When they do, she'll be more excited because that's what baby girl wants.

Stuff like pee or anything to do with that is something that she'll never do.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

She likes to have her pussy eaten out of course. And how they make her come through oral sex. However, she prefers to give SLIGHTLY more. Just slightly. She likes to get her hair grabbed and face-fucked. Sometimes she engages in cock worship.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually, she says things like "fuck me harder", "don't stop" etc. to encourage getting fucked at a faster and rougher pace. Especially when they hit her G-spot. That sends her crazy. She does appreciate the slow and sensual but only at the beginning or near the end. Depending on the context of the sex session.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yeah. She likes quickies. This has something to do with disturbing and teasing her partner while he's at work. Yes, I'm talking about Kurapika. So a little quickie just for him to relax and catch a break is Neon's favour for him for working so hard.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes. She's game on taking risks. She's actually the one who will initiate and explore with kinks she finds on the net. Heck, she once proposed getting fucked against the window and in the balcony, risking the fact that someone might see them (Papa absolutely must never know what his daughter has been doing). The fear and thrill of getting caught arouses her.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I think at most two rounds. The sex can be really intense and this girl lacks stamina. She didn't go through formal Nen training (remember that she got hers without training), and her partners are Nen users and physically fit so they wear her out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She owns them alright. She uses a vibe to pleasure herself. It comes in handy when she gets horny during ovulation and there's no one to dick her down.

As for using them with a partner, she uses a lot of toys with Chrollo. Whether it's the anal beads when Chrollo wants to get her ass fucked while he rams the front or making her wear vibrating panties in public, she's sure down for it. She also will wear a tail butt plug to complement her kitty outfit that Chrollo instructed her to wear. She'd gladly follow whatever freaky fantasy he wants.

With Kurapika, they don't use toys except for bondage items. If Neon were to sleep with a woman, she'll prefer to get fucked with a strap on.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Neon is the queen of teases. Especially if her lover seems uptight. (Yes, Pika boy, that's you).

She'll randomly sends him nudes while he's working. She'll touch his lap/balls lightly when they're eating side by side. She'll say stuff that sounds suggestive in inappropriate timings. She'll wink. She'll roll her tongue while eating and making eye contact. Just to initiate sex.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Neon has a high-pitched voice. She's very vocal during sex. She can't help it. Honestly, she sounds like those girls in hentai porn but more genuine lmaoo. She'll moan, squeal, whine, squeak and pant with the occasional "yes", "fuck me", "harder" and all the short needy dirty talk to push them to do her rougher.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

She likes to shop for her outfits. It excites her thinking what type of kinky outfit she should buy to make her partner horny. Be it another lacy lingerie, bunny outfit, kitty outfit, she'll be sure to look delectable in her man's eyes.

She looks REAL good in pink or white. Most of her outfits are in that colour. 💖💖

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Neon has a B cup. She doesn't have those giant breasticles like Pakunoda or Shizuku. But that's understandable. I once estimated her height based on Chrollo's height and the manga panel where her head is at his shoulder. She's about 150cm, maybe even shorter. She's a petite girl. She has curves in proportion (she's not a loli, she's just small in height). But that's her charm. She's cute. Easily carried to be fucked.

Side note: The height difference between her and Kurapika (171cm)/Chrollo (177cm) is so good in this aspect (if you guys know what I mean) hehehe kekekek.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Hmm... I think Neon is mid. She does likes sex but she isn't a sex addict. She gets in the mood easily, especially when she's horny during ovulation. She won't be in the mood when she's angry or upset at not getting what she wants.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She's exhausted after it happens. Definitely be sleeping like a baby. She'll lay on her partner's chest and doze off comfortably. If she still has the energy, she'll demand for round two or just pillow talk. Chatter her way until she falls asleep.

To end it off, I would like to give you guys some links to fanart where Neon is being hot, art by @anotherworldash :

Cat Outfit

Cat Outfit with Buttplug

Bunny Outfit Regina George reference

Neon in Shibari ropes

Chrollo and Neon

Kurapika and Neon

Neon sucking Kurapika off [Yes, you read this right]

Neon in pink lingerie

[neonsamurai]

Diary of a Corpo Whore

Oneshot!

Male!V [Valentine] x Arasaka Corp.

(this is the first piece and probably only fic i have ever written and damn without my chooms on the arasaka discord, and one other friend who basically made it publishable... this would not be here..so ...yeah)

(I´m a bit proud to share a very personal insight on my V ... when he still was working at arasaka..)

Today was one of those days again. Jenkins  that fuckin filthy piece of crap brought up one of those special  occasion… ‘meetings’.

The second one this week!

Valentine has had  enough but he knew his hands were tied up…and not in a metaphorical way  either. Whenever he tried to escape this life…this…mess, he gets  reminded of what’s on the line.

His job, his family, his money and lifestyle.

He would ruin it all and stain his name even more. More than he already   does with all those fucking corpo juices he has to swallow   everyday…fucking disgusting. Some of them are even just ugly old farts   that Jenkins owes some money to and shit, yet he always shoves Val’s ass  in front as a distraction.

So many dicks he had to suck under a desk…so many times he was forcefully slammed on a meeting table only to  get hand over to the next suit-wearing asshole in another office.   Hell…his mouth got dry thinking about what’s been planned for him today again once his timer goes off and just…fuck…that client’s kinks were the  WORST.

Fuck. You. Jenkins.

But Valentine… Val knows that in the  end he will obey…that he’d spread his legs over and over again just so  he can keep drinking champagne and make his family ‘proud’. Ugh…proud…  as if they don’t know what he’s doing. But well, Val knows it was his  own fault and he knows that they would disown him if he dares to try to  lose that ‘job’ that they’ve graciously provided him.

“Arasaka  runs this family!” “Be glad you have this life we’ve provided you so you  better work to keep it that way!” yadda yadda yadda “Don’t ruin this  family’s name going about badmouthing other CEOs and top employees! They  know the best!”

Yeah…those were the things his mother used to tell  him while she works a few ranks higher up and turn a blind eye to her  son as he fucks his way from office to office.

Valentine swallows hard and studies the clock in his cybernetics.

Just 10 minutes left…

Better freshen up a bit and prepare for that special meeting hm…?

He  steps in front of the self-activating mirror only to look into his   tired, lifeless eyes, practicing his perfect corpo smile a little before  fiddling around to get out those pills that’s been helping him get   through most of the days. Just sweet, sweet release…numbs the brain and let him fantasize about something nice while strangers dick fuck him   senseless like the good employee he is.

5 more minutes…

Ok. He  swallows the pill quickly, cupping two hands full of cold water to wash  it down and cool down his face. He can do it! “Just a few more” Jenkins  said! Maybe then he might get that promotion in another sector. Just a  few more meetings…like always. Maybe he can start anew with new  colleagues, a new boss…new…everything?

2 minutes…

He should go  now and get ready. That client is waiting for him, ready to…get what he  was promised. Valentine exits the bathroom with his perfect smile and  appearance looking sharp and professional, working for this perfect  corporation, Arasaka. All while knowing deep inside that even if he gets  promoted…the circle will repeat itself and he would just remain as  someone else’s piece of ass to share around until he gets another  promotion…

Knowing deep inside, even if he gets promoted... the  circle will repeat itself and he just stays someones ass to share around  until he gets another promotion..

[lavendersblued1llyd1lly]

Cozy Nights and Curious Questions

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Word Count:1428

My longest fic yet! Not very long I know, but a personal achievement! Please enjoy my late night, caffeine induced, attempt at some sort of romantic comedy. And please, have a wonderful, wonderful week!

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You were sitting behind the counter, going over the inventory for the day, your bookstore had closed hours before, and you didn’t want to leave yet. You loved your job, it was your life. You ran a very special kind of bookstore. You ran a hunter’s bookstore. Which meant that you had a regular bookshop out front, lot’s of regular books. Beautiful, vintage books. But in the back behind a hidden door made out of one of the bookshelves, was a secret room. Full of lore books, scrolls, and unique weapons. A regular museum. Hunters from all over came to pick your brain, wanting information and supplies, and you were happy to oblige. 

You had once been a hunter, you had fought with the best. All it took was one injury, one mistake, and you were done hunting for good. A bad knee was a weakness you could not afford. So you ran a library of hunting knowledge, letting them take whatever they needed. It was fun, once in a while you missed life on the road. But you wouldn’t trade your store for anything. 

Your confidant was Ellen Harvelle, she told hunters that she trusted about you, and gave them the code word. She was the reason for most of your hunter clients, and she was a dear friend. 

Startled out of your thoughts by a knock on the back door, you stood up and slowly limped to answer the door. You grabbed your shotgun from the rack on the wall, you looked through the peephole and called out, “Who is it?” 

“My name’s Dean Winchester, I’m the handsome one,  and this is my brother Sam, Ellen sent us.” You could see two, admittedly handsome, young men. And though you had heard of the Winchesters, you had to be sure.

“Welcome! Let me grab a coat first, it sure is a chilly night out.” You said loudly. You waited a moment and faintly heard Dean mumbling, “Really Sam? Do I have to say it?”

After a couple seconds of bickering he sighed dramatically, “Fine.”

He grumbled under his breath one more time for good measure before yelling back, “Chilly? Why it’s hotter than Chris Evans! And why use a jacket when you could use his hug?” 

You laughed to yourself, it never got old hearing serious hunters say the silly sentence.

You set down your shotgun, but kept your pistol in the holster on your hip, hidden by the large sweater you wore. You proceeded to unlock the door and opened it with a big grin. “Hello gentleman, do come in, it actually is a bit frosty tonight.” 

They both hurried in and stomped snow off their boots, Sam looked up at you and smiled. “Thank you, Ellen said you had some information we could use?” Dean nodded his head in agreement, still shivering. Then he looked up at you and grinned, “Yeah, we can use all the info you got.” His tone was flirtatious.

You smiled in return, “She’s probably right, depending on the information you need. Are you in any kind of hurry?” 

Dean shook his head, “Not really, Ellen said it would be ‘useful for the future’ whatever that means.” 

You gestured for them to follow you as you headed up front, “Well in that case, you two warm up in front of the fire and I’ll grab some hot chocolate. I have an apartment above the shop, where I make it.” 

Dean grinned, “Alright!” He dropped into one of the armchairs you had in front of your fireplace. He looked around the place with a wide smile, “This is awesome!” 

You came in a moment later with a tray and three mugs of hot chocolate. “Here you guys go, as Ellen probably told you, my name is Y/n, and you are welcome to everything you need.” You handed them both a cup. 

Dean grabbed his and winked at you, “Sweetheart, so far you are all I need.” 

Sam frowned at his brother, “Dean man, come on, she’s being really nice, don’t ruin it.” 

You laughed, “That’s alright, it’s good for my ego.” You winked back at Dean and headed back upstairs to put up your tray.

While you were gone, they both tentatively took a sip before their eyes grew wide and they looked at each other. 

“This is really good!” Sam said, looking into his cup of chocolaty goodness.

“Shut up Sammy, I’m trying to drink.” Dean tilted his head back, trying to drink as much as possible. 

You came back down, “You guys need anything else right now?” 

Dean sat up with a cheesy grin, 

“Well actually-”

“No,” Sam cut in, “We don’t, not right now.” He gave Dean a pointed look. 

Dean grumbled and sat back in his chair.

You hid your smile, very amused with the two of them and sat down across from them, “What kind of information are you looking for?” 

They looked at each other and then back again, “Any kind.” Dean said.

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After two and a half hours of telling them everything you knew that they didn’t, you were exhausted with the sound of your own voice. 

“Well, I’m tired of talking, it’s y’alls turn.” You leaned back, waiting for them to talk.

Sam quirked a brow, “What do you want us to say?” 

“Anything you want. What music do you listen to? Do you believe October is too early to listen to Christmas music? What was your most recent hunt?” You kept going, “Favorite season of the year? Have you ever been snowboarding, if you have, did you enjoy it?” You smiled, “And so on.” 

Dean sat forward in his chair, “Rock, it’s never too early, a Wendigo, haven’t really thought about it, no and I probably wouldn’t enjoy it.” He leaned back, “What else you got for me sweetheart?” 

You took it as a challenge, “Where were you born? Pie or cake? Do you like flying or driving more? Giraffe or Elephant? Sweaters or flannels?” 

He licked his lips in a wide grin, “Lawrence, Kansas, pie all the way, flying sucks, elephant, and it was flannels, but now seeing you in that sweater has converted me.” He ended with a smirk. Liking the way his last sentence flustered you. He nodded his head at you, “Your turn. Favorite movie? How was your first time? Tea or coffee? Blue or green? Best concert you’ve been to? Most recent book you’ve read? And last, but not least, sweaters or flannels?”

You answered in the same banter manner and ended with, “Well it was sweaters, but now seeing you in that flannel has converted me.” He laughed at the echoing of his own words and winked, “Glad to hear it.” 

Sam waved a hand in the air, “Um I’m still here, you guys realize that right?” 

You turned to him, realizing that you had actually forgotten poor Sam, “Oh I'm sorry Sam, would you like some more to drink?” 

He sighed, “No, it’s fine, you two keep going. I’m going to look around your store, I’m actually interested in your 2nd edition copy of Moby Dick.” 

You were pleased he enjoyed books as well, “Let me know if you have any questions.” 

He nodded and wandered off. 

“Now,” Dean moved to the chair closer to you that Sam had just vacated, “Back to what we were doing.” You waited, wondering what he had for you next. He started, “Elvis or Michael? Have you ever been surfing? If so, did you enjoy it? Best pizza ever? And, adding on to that, is pineapple acceptable on pizza? Cats or dogs? Favorite nut? And, again, last but not least, will you go on a date with me?” 

You were listening intently up until the last question, “Wait, what?” 

“You heard me.” His eyes were intent, waiting for your answer.

You felt shy all of the sudden, “I kinda forgot most of the other questions, but yes, I will go out with you.” You smiled.

He grinned, “Tomorrow, 6:30? I’ll pick you up.”

“Sounds great, Dean, I can’t wait.” You said honestly, very excited about what a date would be like with Dean Winchester. 

He looked into your eyes, with a sweet softness, and held your hands in his own. “Neither can I sweetheart.” 

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Bonus: 

“Hey Dean? I remember one of the other questions, you asked my favorite nut.” 

“Oh right, what’s your favorite nut?” 

“Well it was cashews, but now that I’ve met you, you’ve converted me.” You winked “ You’re my favorite nut.”

“You-you’re a favorite nut.”

“Nice comeback Dean.” 

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Taglist:

@akshi8278

[eurodynesass-moved]

A Close Call

After starting off her day on a rather sweet note with Viktor, V goes out to do some jobs before getting an urgent call from Misty, telling her that Vik's been hurt.

Female V / Viktor Vector

This fic contains very minor, vague mentions of a couple of events/aspects of the game. 

Ao3

— — — — —

They had become accustomed to the sound of metal banging against stone, of little objects falling off tables. It was easy not to mind it so much when all they could hear and focus on was their heavy breathing and soft moaning.

V held tightly onto broad shoulders, her eyes shut as she felt Vik's stubbled chin against her skin. He kissed the base of her throat, the side of her neck, her jaw, and she could feel his hot breath against her. It drove her mad.

Propped up on the table beside his couch, she was barely leaning against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist tightly as he slammed himself into her, over and over. His fingers pressed hard into her thighs, sure to leave some kind of mark when they were done.

"Oh-fuck-ing-hell," V exclaimed between his fast thrusts. Her jaw dropped and she buried her face into his shoulder. From the intensity of him moving inside her, she dragged her nails across his shoulders. That earned a deep groan from him just as he called her name out, his hips buckling hard toward his climax.

The table clanged, something fell over, the wall protested, and Vik continued to thrust in her—once, and again, letting the world know how good it felt before gradually slowing himself down.

V lifted his head by his hair and gave him a sloppy, breathless kiss. The two of them were trying to catch their breath, but were unable to get enough of each other, hands palming at every inch they could reach. As Viktor pulled himself out of her, he must have noticed that she did not find her release one last time before he did, so his hand dutifully went down to remedy that.

"It's okay," V whispered to him with a faint smile. "You don't- you don't have to—ooh," she paused. She closed her eyes, feeling those stupidly skilled fingers of his tease and play with her clit.

"I don't have to what, V?" he grinned.

"Mmm, don't mind me," V relaxed, sighing as he then inserted a couple of fingers into her. They certainly weren't his dick but he sure used them just as well. Moments later, her brows pinched to a tight crease, her body began to arch and her moans grew louder and higher in pitch—then to one, small, silent pause. Her legs pulled upward and pressed tight as her hips twitched beneath her. V's chest heaved in wide curves as she melted in Vik's grasp. "Fuuuuck, I could stay here all day," she moaned, finally opening her eyes to see him watching her with low lids. Fuck, he looked hot when he did that.

Viktor captured her mouth with his for a long, sweet kiss. Pulling away only slightly, V grinned. "You know, most doctors used to give their patients a lollipop after their appointment," she chuckled, a nudge about the fact that they could not keep their hands to themselves the moment her check-up was over.

"Is that a joke or a suggestion?" he raised a brow.

Before she could reply, there was a voice mumbling from behind the locked front door, and then a heavy knock. V snorted, trying to muffle her laugh after seeing the look on his face. Another knock sounded and he groaned in frustration, turning his head away from her to yell, "I'm coming!"

V tapped him on the shoulder once and raised a brow. "I think you already came."

Vik dipped his head, shaking it as he laughed at that. V couldn't suppress her own, taking his face in her hands to kiss him on the cheek. Just as she was about to stand and get dressed, he pulled her back by the waist and gave her one last kiss. He then smacked her on the ass and turned to fix his clothes.

V bit back a grin. "We still on for dinner later?" she asked as she pulled her pants up.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, sweetheart," he promised.

—

Just over an hour later, V had just dropped off a briefcase for a gig she had picked up the day before. She could not stop thinking about what would come later on. For two weeks, she and Viktor had been planning that dinner. A soothing night out in town, somewhere nice but not too fancy—and they both preferred it that way—with the promise of a lovely time after.

The thought brought a smile to her face as she mounted the bike, sending off a text to a fixer about the job being completed. Just before she was about to drive, she received a call from Misty. V sat up, answering the call, about to speak when she heard sniffling and crying on the other end.

"Misty?" she asked, now extremely alarmed.

"V, you-you have to come to the clinic," Misty cried. "It's Vik, he's... he's been shot."

Everything in the world stopped in place.

Viktor.

Shot.

"Is-is he—"

"He's still breathing, but please come quick," she begged.

V had already started the bike up and started moving. "I'm on my way."

She wasn't certain just how many times she had nearly gotten run over, or how she survived the sharpest turns, but V sped through the streets like she never had before. Getting just outside Misty's Esoterica, the bike shrieked to a stop on the sidewalk, startling the passersby. V leapt off and sprinted through the store, bursting into the clinic a moment later.

It was an absolute mess.

There was blood all over the floors, a couple of AirHypos discarded, medical equipment strewn about, bloodied gauze and bandages tossed aside. Viktor was laid flat on the very same bed that was used for her a while back. His shirt was unbuttoned, tank top cut open, and his chest was covered in blood. There were bundles of cloth that Misty had pressed into the wounds—two wounds to be exact.

Before V could give in to the immense emotions building up inside her, Misty had her run over to help. The bullets were still in him, stopping him from bleeding out, but she needed her help to get them out and fix him. V did not waste any time, getting her hair out of the way and listening to every single order that Misty gave her.

She had been around to help Vik once or twice, but it was nothing more than just bringing him what he needed. It was Misty that worked right across the alley, it was Misty that had seen him in action and helped him more times than she could count. She wasn't Viktor, but she knew what to do. It was more than V could say for herself. V did not dare to look Viktor in the face, to see his unconscious state, to see how the blood had drawn from it and how he might not even make it through.

She did not dare spend a single second cursing at the person that had done this. She could not think about that yet.

She could not think about losing him.

The dinner. That's what she thought about.

—

V had not realized how exhausting it was, working until time had lost meaning, trying to keep someone alive. She wondered if this was what he had to do, all those times she had come into his shop looking like death either from the chip or just some other terrible wound. She wondered if he, too, could not think about moving away and could not bear to turn away from her for more than a second. She wondered if he felt that way about every patient or just the ones he cared for.

They were all things she'd have to ask him herself when he'd wake up. If he'd wake up.

V shook her head, taking a deep, staggered breath and wiping a stray tear from her cheek. There had been a lot of those that she could not wipe away during the operation. Sitting there, in his own stool, right beside him, V continued to stare. She soon felt a hand on her shoulder, Misty's gentle touch, being told to go wash up. She promised V that she would look after him until she returned and so V listened. V was covered in Viktor's blood, her shirt, her hands, even her face.

Finding herself stumbling into a washroom at Misty's, she slowly glanced up at the mirror. An image flashed in her mind. The very same image, but a different bathroom. A different time. A different loved one's blood all over her. He, too, was shot, but she could not save him. More tears pooled in her eyes as she looked down at her hands, moving them under running water and wondering just how many more times she would have to be in this position.

—

Stepping into Viktor's clinic, she saw Misty paused mid-step, looking at her. "Hey, honey. You clean up okay?"

V nodded, then walked through the open gate, turning to her left immediately. Vik was still there, he was still unconscious, but he was still breathing, his heart still beating. Standing beside him now, her face was hardened into a cold expression, but she could not stop those goddamn tears.

"Who did this?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"It was... one of his clients, one of his appointments..." Misty replied. "Went right through the Esoterica."

"Do you know his name?" V prodded, eyes stuck on Viktor's bandaged chest.

"V, why do you—"

"His. Name."

Misty sighed. "I don't know, but... Vik has their files in his system."

V stepped away from Viktor's bed, walking over to his desk and turning on the monitor. A log-in screen. Fuck. She hoped she'd be able to crack it, but first she tried any password she could think of. Fighters' names, special dates, variations of his names, Misty's—

She blinked hard and hoped she'd be wrong when she typed in her name. Her real name.

The insides of his comp opened up to her, free for her perusal. Her head dipped low momentarily as she suppressed the emotions that burst within her chest. V then sniffled and looked back up at the screen, brows furrowed and eyes sharp with purpose. She scrolled through the list of clients that Viktor had dossiers and files on, having Misty identify the man that shot him. Once she did, she asked V what she was about to do, but V did not reply. She simply checked to make sure that her mantis blades were working right before urging Misty to lock down the clinic after she left.

—

Perhaps there was no point in washing up after all, if she was going to be returning to the clinic covered in blood again. This time, it was a mix of her's as well as others'. The client was some hotshot Tyger that had a few friends around when she finally tracked him down. Now, with her in the clinic having returned safely, he had absolutely nothing.

Misty offered to help clean her up and she did not refuse, but she was not going to leave the clinic again. Not for another while.

—

"So I finally handed it over to her and told her I never wanted a job from that sleazebag corpo ever again. Besides, he talked too much," V sighed, spinning around in the stool a little bit. She then finally came to a halt and scooted closer to the bed, gently lifting his hand with hers. "I miss you..." she whispered, thinking that she had enough in her to admit it and be okay.

She didn't.

V immediately began crying and she shook her head, looking down at her shoes. "I can't... I don't know what to do, Vik, just... tell me what to do. I can't lose you. Not you too, not you."

She finally built up the courage to look at him again, moving a little closer to bring a hand to his head. She gently stroked his hair, small comforting gestures without any real purpose. "Come back to me soon, okay?" she sniffled, bringing his hand up to her lips and just holding it there for a bit. At least in the days that he had been recovering, she noticed some color seemed to return to his face.

After he was stabilized, V had called on the other Rippers she knew, finally finding one that would come meet them and check in on him. It became a habit after it was clear that he would not be waking up right away. Since then, V had set herself up just around the corner, having been sleeping on the pull-out couch just to stay close by.

—

A few days later, V had been sitting on the ground beside Vik, leaning against his bed. She had been talking about her day, about a few things she remembered from a while back—anything she could think of just to fill the air, spend the time, when she felt something.

There was a brush against her shoulder, and when she looked down, she could see Vik's fingers weakly reaching for her. V got up onto her knees, taking his hand immediately as her eyes locked onto his face. Viktor let out a faint cough, brows furrowed and eyes struggling to open.

"Viktor?" she called to him. He made a small sound. She checked his vitals quickly, finding nothing to be out of the ordinary. V waited patiently as Vik finally blinked, eyes darting around until landing on her. "Look who's finally awake," V tried to smile, but her voice cracked and her heart ached.

"Fuck..." he spoke, his voice coming out dry and raspy.

"Try not to move," she warned. Flinging a quick thought into her comms, she sent Misty a message then focused on Viktor. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a million eddies," he joked, the corners of his lips twitching.

Misty soon came through the door, sharing a similar expression to V's. Eyes tearing up, full of relief, urgency to be sure everything's okay. So V left her to it. She remained by Vik's side and kept holding onto his hand, listening as Misty explained everything to him, his condition, his wounds, and the procedures the ladies had done to keep him healthy.

Partway through their conversation, Vik had turned his head to look at V, saying nothing but just watching her. Her eyes were fixed on his hand as she held it. She looked as though she were holding the most fragile thing and the look on her face was far too much to handle.

His focus finally came back when Misty placed a hand on his shoulder and kissed his forehead. "It's good to have you back, Vik. Just keep resting, we'll have you up and walking around in no time."

"Thanks, Misty," he smiled at her, and gave her a small nod as she walked away.

Misty reached for V as well, giving her shoulder a small squeeze on her way out. Once the door was shut, Vik nudged her hand with his own.

"Hey," he whispered to her. "Come closer."

V obliged, shuffling a little closer and raising herself up to see him properly. She still could not find it in herself to make eye contact with him, but the thought of him being awake, that he was going to be alright...

Fuck. She was crying again.

Viktor raised his hand to cradle her cheek, "Hey, come on now..." he cooed, a thumb brushing her tears away. "I'm gonna be just fine."

"You fucking bastard, you scared me," V scolded, her head hung low as her body shook with each sob. Her nimble hands wrapped around his forearm, holding onto him. "If something happened... If..."

"Stop that," he spoke calmly, "Look at me, I'm gonna be all better."

She finally did look up at him, seeing the face that she had come to love so dearly, finally awake. "You've just... you've never been on this side of it before, not in front of me..." she explained. "I was so scared I'd lose you too."

"Worst way for the tables to turn, huh?" he chuckled dryly.

V let out a chuckle that was akin to a sob, bringing a sleeved wrist up to wipe all the fluids from her face. "Fuck," she whispered to herself, realizing it was a lot. As she did so, Vik noticed a healing gash on her face that he had not seen the last time they were together.

"That's new," he observed.

Slowly getting up from the ground, V found the tiniest sliver of mattress she could sit on just so she could lean in properly. "Don't worry about it, it's almost gone anyway."

"That's gonna leave a scar," he sighed, a thumb tracing the pink line along her jaw. "Who do I have to pay a visit for doing that?"

"No one important," she promised. "It's taken care of."

Viktor looked her in the eyes for a moment, trying so hard to read her expression. Beyond the relief and beyond the sorrow, there was a hint of something, a coldness in her that he had not seen since the days she recovered from the landfill. It was pain and anger combined, a dangerous mix.

"Well," he brushed her long, precious waves behind one ear and took a breath, "I guess we're going to have to rain check on that dinner then, huh?"

She couldn't help but smile at that, "You just focus on getting better and we'll have a bunch of nights to make up for it, alright?"

"You got it, darlin'," he chuckled.

V leaned down to give him a small kiss, being almost too gentle with him. When they pulled away, she remained close and looked him in the eyes. "I love you, Viktor."

Oh, if she knew what those little words did to him every time. He gave her a warm smile, not missing a beat, "I love you too, V."

[pandoraswrld]

IN THE NIGHT

— in which sera finds something new to entertain her

characters / sera park, ahn insung, mentions of the black rose girls, johnny suh and kim jongin

words / 4.1k

warnings / sexual content, they fuck in his car basically, smoking cigarettes, smoking weed, crying, small mention of blood — if i missed anything please let me know!

Sera knows exactly why her feet dragged her to the club on this particular night. It was a Thursday and as far as she knew Insung would be outside on the steps, chatting up random girls and finding unsuspecting club-goers to become his customers. It would only be her fourth time coming there and her third seeing him, she’d grown rather fond of both during her visits.

She lied to her group mates when she said she was going out to get some fresh air and she lied to herself when she said she was going to the club only to find a good time. Sera could go inside, drink something overpriced and get hit on by several guys but she’s already decided she was going to bother Insung if she caught him.

The familiar dark blue neon lights came into view as she rounded the street corner to find the hidden club. She liked that she had to look for the place, it was far away from everything else, just enough that she could escape to it whenever she wanted. And just as she suspected there was Insung sitting at the foot of the metal staircase looking out onto the road as if he were waiting for someone.

They quickly caught each other’s eyes, the older man standing up to greet Sera. His black hair shined blue under the light of the club doors and his hands were adorned with shiny silver rings on almost every finger. He was far from ugly and that’s one of the first things that grabbed her attention when she had first met him.

“Princess, it’s nice to see you here again.” His words are not without a simple smirk, one that typically graced his face.

Sera rolled her eyes, she knows by now not to take his compliments and nicknames seriously. If she had a dollar for everytime she’d heard him say that to every other girl who came to him, she’d be rich.

“What brings you here on a night like this?”

It hadn’t been a particularly interesting week, having been off schedule for weeks now ever since the accident, the dorms had been tense and she was sick of hearing the same fight between Hyebin and Jangmi every night. Sera was simply bored with her life right now, she needed stimulation and of course she knew where to get it.

“Would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you?” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. She knows he’s definitely not one to fall for flattery but Sera also knew how to work it on him, it was like she was his soft spot. Even if she wasn’t, she wanted to be and was more than determined to make him like her just a little bit more than his other clients.

“You’re bullshitting me.” It was his turn to roll his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning ever so slightly over her.

“How could you know that?” She chose to smile at him coyly.

“Well darling, come have a smoke with me, I promise I won’t tell anyone.” There it is, she’s got him.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

She followed him across the street and far down the empty road towards his car. He always parked his car far away from the club, she figured there was a reason behind it but she never felt like pressing him for answers.

The car itself was something she enjoyed, despite this being her first ever time inside it. Something felt different on the inside, it was a space only the two of them shared, the real world only a couple of centimetres away behind the darkened glass of his windows.

Sera made sure to roll the windows down before lighting up, he told her he doesn’t care about the smell but she still does it anyway. She prefers seeing the clouds of smoke from the cigarettes waft out into the air rather than having it dissipate weakly within the confines of the car.

Few words are exchanged between them, she and Insung don’t really have much to say to each other. They only shared a couple things in common, those things being the club and drugs. She reckons that’s not really enough to hold on to, not that she would ever admit to wanting more from Insung, she just hates that once the cigarette burns out they’ll go back to being practically strangers again.

She wanted – no – needed him to like her. It’s simple to her really, all love has an expiry date on it so why not make the most out of it with whoever you can, he just happened to be the physically closest person to her right now. She doesn’t need him to fall in love with her, she’s not asking much from him.

Her father always told her never to care about other people’s opinions on her, he always wanted her to grow up strong and independent. Sera thinks about his old sayings whenever she was in a position of desperation, it’s a shame she never really grew into the girl he wanted her to be. She missed him, she’ll probably call him when she gets back to the dorms, after all it is only eight in the morning back home.

“Insung.” Sera turned to the man sitting in the driver’s seat beside her.

“Yes, princess.” He still had some of his cigarette left, only a little, their time together was almost up.

Sera had finished hers first, flicking it into his makeshift water bottle ashtray a couple minutes before. “Why do you call me princess?”

Insung was silent for a moment, inhaling another breath of smoke before turning to Sera. The corners of his mouth twisted up, a genuine smile from the man, that’s something she never thought she’d see.

“Because you are one,” he chuckled, “I don’t treat all my customers the same if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She smiled at the thought, she was cracking him, slowly but surely.

Sera rolled her window back up, it was just them now. Her eyes surveyed Insung, looking at him up and down as though she were searching for something. She leaned forward and with her hand resting delicately on the wheel she kissed him.

He didn’t taste sweet, not like Jongin used to, no he didn’t taste of anything. All that she could sense off of him was the smell of nicotine hanging off of his lips and hands.

“Hmm that’s how you wanna play, what do you want here Sera? Low prices, a free hit?” She couldn’t read him, he was smiling at her but his tone was more neutral than anything else.

She looked down to his lips and then back into his eyes, that always worked, “I want you.”

He kissed her this time, smashing their lips together at a pace a lot faster than she had expected from him. His hand fell over her nape to pull her closer to him, “Then show me.”

Sera gave him a devilish grin, getting closer to what she wanted. She threw her leg over his body and dragged herself from her seat to sit lightly on top of his thighs.

His kisses were either chaste and quick or wet and slippery, she doesn’t know which one she prefers but it’s nice to have someone on her lips again. The feeling of his hands gripping at her thighs and hips could send her to heaven, the cold metal of his rings clashing against her hot skin. Sera hoped that when she woke up in the morning it would leave pretty bruising for her to stare at in the mirror, a little memory that someone felt something for her.

She grabbed at her t-shirt and lifted it away from her jeans, unbuttoning the denim for Insung to access. She was quick to undo his too and it didn’t look like he showed any signs of wanting her to stop, a near moan leaving his lips when her hands brushed up against his groin.

Sera rushed to pull his cock out of his pants and push it inside of her, she wanted this moment to go by quickly and it would with her in control of the situation. As far as she’s concerned this is for him, her benefits would come after and it always felt good being so physically close to someone.

The position was awkward, Sera’s head had hit the car ceiling at least three times by now and her back was this close to sounding out the horn every time she leaned the tiniest bit backwards. In terms of sex, this was nowhere near reaching the top of her list, Insung wasn’t doing anything particularly show-stopping and he had barely been able to keep eye contact with her at all despite having his literal dick buried inside her.

She couldn’t find a way to sweeten the moment, make it feel like it meant something big to the both of them. Insung layed there in his seat watching Sera do all the work and doing nothing but biting his lip and hanging onto her hips for dear life. She figures that after the first time and in a more comfortable setting he might do more for her, or at least she hopes so, she was already planning on hooking up with him a few more times and it would be better if he attempted to put more effort into her pleasure.

She tried to look into his eyes again, placing her hands around his cheeks and holding them in place. Insung, however, firmly avoided her gaze, turning his head away from the grasp of her palm and choosing to settle his eyes on the road behind her shoulders.

Sera rolled her eyes, still bouncing up and down until she felt him tense underneath her. The sounds he let out of his mouth were obscene, dark groans escaping his lips as he pulled himself out of Sera. He came soon after, thick splodges of cum painting Sera’s abdomen and the edge of her t-shirt, dripping down onto Insung’s jeans.

She felt gross, the feeling of his sticky cum all over her made her want to throw up. She removed her legs from the tight straddle and flipped over into the passenger seat, quickly pulling her jeans back up and tucking her t-shirt in in a poor effort to clean up the mess he had left.

Her mind drew blank, barely a thought processing behind her eyes. It’s not an entirely new feeling, she remembers the nights she spent with Johnny and how each one ended with her creeping out in the dead of night, not a single emotion playing on her face. It was all the same, none of these hookups were anything special and she chose not to think too much about the repercussions of them. That was a can of worms she would rather not open, ever.

The thick smell of sex brought her back to reality, barely covering the stale cigarette smoke in the car. Her fingers lifted up over her face to wipe off the taste of Insung, chewing against the soft skin on her knuckle and resting over her nose as if to hide from the man beside her.

“You want anything?” Insung’s voice cut through the silence, coupled with the sounds of his belt and the button metal clashing as he hastily zipped his pants back up.

Sera didn’t turn to look at him, too focused on the black cat outside striding past the car. He probably meant in terms of something to eat or drink but she supposed she could at least try and enjoy the time she’d spent in this car, “Have you got any weed?”

Insung chuckles, muttering something to himself. Sera dives into her bag to find the couple hundred won she had lying around just for moments like this.

“Don’t.” He places the little bag into her hand, pushing away the notes, “We’ll share it, don’t worry about it today.”

Sera gives him a small smile, “Will you roll it for me then?”

Insung is much faster at rolling than she is, having made the perfect blunt within a minute, hers always turned out a little empty and lopsided. He grabbed her chin roughly, placing it in between her pursed lips and lighting it up. “Good girl.” He uttered out after the blunt was lit.

She swallowed thickly before inhaling the weed into her lungs. He probably got off on manhandling her like that so she let him, she’ll think about it again in a day or two and pretend it was hot.

Shared between the two of them the blunt doesn’t last long, Sera’s too anxious to go without something in her hands or on her lips and Insung always had steel lungs, one of the faster smokers she’d ever hung around. The high had quickly settled within her chest, feeling a little lightheaded as she sinks into the passenger seat.

“You okay princess?”

He cares about her, is all she can think, why else would he have done everything he did tonight. She believes she’s worn him down, just enough for him to feel used to her. That’s all she needed.

“Yes.” She hummed. Her hand creeped up to Insung’s empty one that laid beside her, surprised when he didn't drag his away.

“Look at us,” Sera chuckled, “Hayoung and Insung.” She wasn’t feeling up to thinking before speaking, simply letting the words roll off her tongue, the easiest feeling in the world.

“Hayoung...I like that.” Something strikes her upon hearing the name leave his lips, it was strange, it didn’t hurt the way she thought it would. That had to mean something, right?

Her thumbs rub against the rough skin on Insung’s palm. It was hardly believable that she had gotten this far without being hastily thrown out or that he was letting her be this affectionate to him, some part of her believes that maybe he wanted this too. If she thinks a little bit too hard she starts to suspect that he needed this just as badly as she did.

Maybe they were made for each other, who knows?

Insung was different from all the other people that she’d been with. She’d always been the heart breaker, the girl you had to watch out for because she’s gonna shit all over you, but with Insung she was weak, almost his equal if you excluded the money he made off of her.

Jongin was a whole story she still wasn’t dealing with, seeing his face around the halls of the SM building didn’t make any of their meetings hurt less. It’s her fault that they broke up, she would never admit it but she knows she did something wrong. Despite that, in their most vulnerable moments they would always find each other and Sera can’t tell if it’s some kind of fucked up star-crossed lover thing or if it’s just sad that they still pretend like nothing ever happened the morning after. To be honest, the fact that he keeps on letting her back into his bed is his deal, Sera just likes that she’s still got a hook in him.

Johnny was probably the closest she’d gotten to a real relationship since 2015. He was sweet and honestly cared for her, the last time she’d been with him just a little after his debut, she fucked that one up big time.

But with Insung she couldn’t fuck up, not romantically, it was all about giving each other something that the other wanted. Sera got the attention she craved and Insung found himself a warm hole for whenever he needed to get his dick wet. Insung’s probably got his own unsavoury opinions about her brewing in his mind but she’s trying her best not to give a fuck about what he thinks, and in her defence the last time she got called a slut she thoroughly enjoyed it.

“Let me drive you home.”

Sera doesn’t think that’s the greatest idea, let a drug dealer know her home location? Let a man she’d only known for a couple weeks drive her anywhere? It wouldn’t be the safest choice she had made tonight but she was too fucked to care, that was something she could worry about tomorrow, preferably with a bottle of something strong to help ease her thoughts.

“Thank you.” She squeezed his thumb with a small smile. Her fingers just barely made out the dorm address into his sat nav, gliding all over the screen until it’s set and he can start to drive.

They remained silent for the ride home, sitting comfortably as the car twisted through several roads to reach the dorms. Sera glanced over at Insung, catching a concentrated expression on his face, he smiled when he caught her looking.

She could get used to this, fucking Insung and then letting him treat her, it sure is the life her father always dreamed for her. At least it would give her something to do whilst SM tries to figure out what the fuck Lyra and Jangmi have going on, god knows she’d go insane if she had to stay in that dorm any longer, constantly having to walk on eggshells around everyone. This was fun, about as much fun as it can get for her right now.

The car comes to a stop, parked just outside her apartment building. This can’t last forever, Sera knows that much, it wouldn’t bode well for her in the long run knowing what kind of person he was.

There’s not much interaction as Sera exits the car, her hand leaves his empty and there’s no goodbye kiss or even a hug, “See you around.”

“See you around, princess.”

And then he drove off. The light wind starting to pick up reminded her that it was far too late for her to be out as she watched the car disappear down the road.

That’s all there was to it really, nothing special, it almost made her miss how Johnny used to beg her to stay just a little longer. However, beggars can’t be choosers, Sera thought. She got what she wanted, she can’t exactly be picky with how much affection she was asking for. Still there’s a pang in her heart once she finds herself back in the dorm, her chest starting to feel heavy yet again once she’s in the darkened living room. Sera’s at least grateful that no one was waiting behind the door to ask about her whereabouts or comment on the smell of weed she’d brought back with her.

She figures she’ll try to shower before attempting to sleep, having already decided she was going to take the sofa instead of bothering Aejung and Juliet who were likely fast asleep in their shared room. This was probably the most peace they’d get that day, no need for Sera to wake them up with her problems.

The water was cold, just barely above freezing. She shivered at the feeling but didn’t move to change it, instead lingering under the shower head and letting the stream of water run down her body. Her hair started to dampen, bright blonde strands sticking uncomfortably to her skin like glue, barely doing anything to refresh her of the high she was slowly coming down from.

Her hands ran down to her stomach, rubbing off the dried cum and letting out a choked laugh at the action. She hoped that it was the shower water she was feeling but she couldn’t mistake the hot tears leaving her eyes for anything else.

“Fuck.” She mutters to herself, leaning her body against the wall and letting the tears fall freely from her eyes.

Sera doesn’t know why she’s crying, there could be a number of reasons: maybe she was starting her period, maybe she missed her dad too much, or maybe she’s regretting her actions. All of her years she told herself never to let herself regret anything, once it’s done it’s done and yet she still can’t help but feel like she's doing it all for nothing. After a couple months they’ll drop each other and Sera can go back to searching the club in favour of finding someone new to play with, like they never existed to each other outside of their deals.

She thinks back to the car, she can still feel his touches on her body and the cold water does little to remove the feeling. It’s confusing, in the moment it felt so right, like she was finally getting what she’d been asking for but here her emotions had flipped on her so easily, preying on her and causing her to doubt everything.

It left a sickening feeling in her stomach at the thought of him calling her ‘Hayoung’. She knows now that what she was feeling when she heard it wasn’t anything different, she was just high, the weed was admittedly stronger than she was used to and it must’ve knocked the sense out of her. That’s how she rationalises it, but there was one anomaly still standing out in her mind. Why did he let her hold his hand?

Sera had only known him a little amount of time but even in those moments she had painted an awfully clear image of what he was like. Insung, he was ruthless, cocky, far too mighty for his own damn good. She’d seen the way he shamelessly flirted with just about everyone and how he’d pull out a number of threats on people who did him wrong, it would be strange for him to act so softly and yet he did?

Maybe he pitied her, she had become clingy after sex and he didn’t want to let her down so quickly so he let her act like that, spare her some of the embarrassment and then never talk to her again.

The vicious whispers of her former best friend still lived in between her ears and at the back of her head in her worst moments, poor little Hayoung has to fuck everyone just to make them love her because she knows they wouldn’t even give her a chance if it were any other way. Every so often she’d hear them spat back out in her own voice, those nights were always the worst.

It takes all of her strength to get up off the shower floor and turn it off, her fingers and toes had turned blue under the water and she knew she wasn’t going to be getting anything clean anytime soon. She’ll just shower in the morning, she thinks, she’s not in the right state to be doing much now.

It takes her even more strength not to look into the mirror as she dressed, the last time she had done that when she was feeling like this she found herself staring into cracked glass with a bloodied fist.

She had found an old t-shirt and some shorts lying around the dorm to wear, no one cleaned around here anymore, they could very well be someone else’s but it’s not like any of the others cared anymore. Sera can’t even remember the last time she saw Yewon or Hime beyond brief flashes of blonde hair or the sound of their dragging footsteps across the floorboards.

Sera ends up slumping onto the sofa, her eyes staring down at the coffee table before her. Crumpled Chinese takeout flyers were scattered all over the table along with several unwashed mugs full of tea and coffee stains and the remnants of a dying potted plant covering the rest of the surface.

Damn, if she wasn’t already feeling like pure shit then being in this apartment for longer than twenty minutes would’ve done it to her anyways.

She glanced over at the time shining on the screen of her phone, two fifty five in the morning it read. Her fingers hovered over the contact number for her dad, it was just about turning ten in California, she knew he had to get up for work and wouldn’t be bothering him. She hesitates just for a moment before scrolling through her contacts again and finding the number titled ‘Kim Jongin’.

A pathetic sigh left her mouth, pressing on his name and waiting for it to ring. Her teeth found her knuckle, biting down onto it when the phone started to ring for too long, it wasn’t until she was about to hang up that she heard his all too familiar voice call out from the phone.

He sounded tired, his voice was barely above a grumble clearly having been woken up by her call. She didn’t really care about that though, she just needed to be with him tonight, there’s no way he could deny her that.

“Hey, do you think I could come over?”

[calypsoff]

Twenty Eight.

I was supposed to actually go to California first, but I ended up having to do a little detour, I had to drop off some of my clothing line for Lil Wayne, I met Lil Wayne. I went on my own to his home which was dope as fuck, he was a cool dude, but he is constantly high and then Pharrell which he was in New York and I flew there so Robyn said to just meet her there, she wasn’t happy, but I am meeting her at the venue. The past few days have been crazy for me, for the clothing line. So much exposure for us, we are a little sold out on a lot of shit, so I told the boys to stay in Texas and get shit sorted with refreshing stock, I mean I am doing the best part by getting to meet these people. And I did flex that on my Instagram page, of course I would. A nigga from jail is now hanging with the top dogs, this is mind blowing. Lil Wayne is cool as fuck; his entourage is funny as fuck and they were the most welcoming for me. It’s been a headache anyways; I have two suitcases because I am going to California to live at Robyn’ home so I needed all my shit, so I am stuck living out of a suitcase for a while. Staring at myself in the mirror touching my stubble on my face, my phone pressed to my ear as it rang out “hello” Robyn picked up “are you at the venue now? Shall I come?” I have been waiting for Robyn to arrive “I am, I am going to do some rehearsal so if you come, I may not be around, but Jen has your pass so come” I need a shave “cool, you got a barber with you?” you never know “you mean Yusuf? He is here” pulling a face “I need a barber; my hair is grown out. You going to sort out your man with one?” you never know she may help me “my man? Who is that again? The nigga that doesn’t listen to me anymore” she is still on that “but I did say I would come and visit you for like an hour, I had to go to come here? Clients Robyn” she wanted me to come and see her when I was in Cali for Wayne, but I had to fly out “clients or your girlfriend? Mhmm, just come here” taking in a deep breath “see you soon petal?” she hates when I call her petal “shut up, bye” she disconnected the call, I mean I have a business to run now.

I can hear Robyn rehearsing outside from the venue, but I am currently waiting with my suitcases for Jen to come, security did ask and told me I had to wait so it’s whatever. She is taking her time with it though, I am going to be cute with Robyn because I know she is a little annoyed with me, maybe it’s her missing me so I am going to accept her talking stupid with me and just continue to love her and show her that she means so much to me, I adore her so much and she knows that “welcome to the tour Christopehr!” Jen half shouted “let him in” she said behind the barrier, I grinned at her. She always has such good energy “you moving in?” she pointed at my suitcases “uh yeah, Robyn’ home. I think this may be her way to get me to move there” pulling along both cases “welcome, welcome” I stopped to hug her, I am not rude “this is your pass, do not lose it throughout the tour. I am sure you will re-join us again later in the dates. I hope you do for the overseas part” nodding my head taking the pass from her, placing it over my head “Robyn has got you a barber, Yusuf is offended but she has a guy for you” I cooed out “really?” I am shocked “yeah, she said he asked so I will take you to him. Come along, I will suggest getting these on her bus, we will be on the bus after this date to travel to Philli, she has a five day window after that so you both can spend time together” I didn’t know that “really? So she doesn’t get overworked?” that is shocking “it’s a little different, this is a major tour, she gets plenty of rest” I am glad to hear she does.

Dapping the barber as his friend took a picture of us “good looking out” I said to him “like I have been to many barbers but you, dang. You got me out here looking fresh as hell” I am impressed “thinking of you bro, you got to look fresh when you date Rihanna. Dang, when I got the message. I said Rihanna wants a haircut from me? I was shook then it said her boyfriend, so yeah” I chuckled “it’s only her side nigga you cutting for, so when I make it big you about to be my personal one” he nodded his head “appreciate it brother” like this nigga is good “how much is that?” grabbing my money from my pocket, I have money in my life finally “on your girl, she paid already” letting out an oh, she didn’t need to pay I could have paid that “perks of being with a millionaire” taking in a deep breath “yeah” I mumbled, it’s not even like that “shame she isn’t here, I would love to meet her” my phone started ringing “maybe one day” looking down at the I.D, it’s my mother “ma” answering the call “I miss you son, oh baby. Desean showed me who uncle is seeing, I am so proud of you. I just had to check on you and tell you how proud I am of you” I cooed out “doing it for you ma, you know that. I am currently doing something, but I will call you later, promise. Love you” I don’t want to speak in front of these nosey niggas “ok baby, I love you too” disconnecting the call “you want me to walk you out? Actually I think I should” I am dumb, I shouldn’t be asking that “please do, I don’t know where I am going” nodding my head.

I wonder if Robyn is done, the music has stopped playing so I am guessing but where the hell could she be. It’s funny because I am speaking about Robyn and here she is, walking with her entourage. Such a tiny woman in a gang full of men, she is running the show and they are all following her. She looks deep in thought, but me I am so glad to have seen her now. I mean I didn’t know where to go, I grinned watching her walk closer and closer, this guy is speaking to her as she made her way. Looks like it’s a lot of taking that is happening “Twin” I said, Robyn looked up and her face softened, from the angry face to the happiness “poppa is here, I will and thanks” Robyn moved away from her team, she did a little run to me “I missed you so much twin” hugging her, wrapping both arms around Robyn and pressing her close to me “I missed you so much” I admitted truthfully “how you think I feel” moving my head back and pressed kisses to her cheek, Robyn giggled as I did “you look well, I am happy to see you smiling” pressing a long kiss to her cheek “love you” moving back from her “I am smiling now” holding onto Robyn’ hand “what was that all about, seems like a deep conversation?” leaning back onto the wall “I haven’t rehearsed Stay so he was mentioning it and stuff but yeah. I like your hair, huh. Who did that for you” she winked “Yusuf” I joked “aye, I said it to him and goes I know how to do that nigga’ hair, but my poppa looking all handsome. I am glad you’re here, finally. I was becoming jealous of seeing you with other people on Instagram, it’s hard because I wanted you with me. And I get jealous” she is telling me like I don’t know that “I get that, you so beautiful twin” Robyn pulled a face “I am sweating, shut up. Come, let’s go and sit on the bus. It’s quiet on there” Robyn yanked my hand to walk.

She is right, the bus is quiet. There is many people in that venue so I am glad we have peace, placing my jacket on the table before sitting down on the seating area “so you sleep in the bunks?” I pointed “no, my room. My actual room is in the back, I have a bed. The fuck you think I am sleeping on a bunk? But we don’t really sleep, we party” Robyn sat next to me “god, I missed you” placing my arm on the back of the seating around just behind Robyn “aye!” I spat jumping forward “what you doing!?” Robyn didn’t even move her hand from my crotch at all, she is deadass “Robyn, you have your hand on my dick! Like you have my dick in your hand, why!?” I spat, she is being deadass “I heard about this fetish about you wearing sweatpants, and I see it. See how easy I grabbed your dick, you’re banned from wearing them!” my eyes widened “deadass!? Robyn, I can’t help it” she still hasn’t moved her hand “see, I haven’t see you in a while. I have seen thirsty pictures and comments about you, I have seen these videos and pictures of you in VA, you have fanpages now too, CJ? The fuck is CJ, it’s your dick! Right, so from now on you ain’t wearing these” I have to laugh “baby, please. Let’s talk like adults. I can’t help that my dick is big, please stop gripping my dick, please” she is waking my dick “tell me it’s mine” using my free hand to rub my face and laugh “ahhh!” she deadass squeezed my dick “ok, Robyn. It’s yours and you know this! I can’t help it” she let my dick go, I breathed out.

Staring at Robyn, well more like side eyeing her. I can���t believe I am allowing her to do this but I rather let her do it then listen to her drive me crazy about it, she will start saying that I am enjoying Staring at Robyn just doing the most and that I don’t love her “done?” I asked, Robyn smirked moving her hand away from my dick “yes, I think I got the perfect picture look at my hand on your bulge” she turned her phone to me “it looks nice, now jerk me off” Robyn waved me off as she went to work, she is now having to think of a caption, she had to do the most because my dick print has caused some drama, I just got a big dick. I cannot help it, it’s not my fault “what did you type out crazy?” I feel my dick is growing, I feel like I am getting hard because she continues to touch my fucking dick “special package” Robyn smirked “hashtag daddy home” shaking my head “I need to be jerked off now” I pointed at my dick “my hand hurts” Robyn placed her leg over my lap, she purposely rubbed her leg over my dick “you need to stop that” she is so cheeky “mhmm I am sick of being Rihanna’s boyfriend, everyone always pointing out like oh you are Rihanna’s boyfriend” rolling my eyes “you could always upgrade?” she mumbled “huh, to what?” raising an eyebrow “husband” I snorted laughing “wow Robyn, dang. I ain’t settling, no ma’am my knee will not be on the ground proposing” Robyn hit my chest scoffing “you are actually annoying, you say all this shit just to be sucking my toes. Fuck you” she mushed my face “this is why I want to be single, can’t let a nigga suck anything in peace. Annoying” she out here talking about husband “besides, I don’t want you as a husband” she is a lie “I need a wife that will cook and clean” I retorted “you’re annoying, keep annoying me, you know I will have you apologising” she is getting annoyed, let me leave her alone before she really gets mad.

Watching Robyn sit down but she sat across from me which honestly made me smile “for you annoying me I changed my caption to Rihanna’s boyfriend, hope you’re happy” locking my phone sighing out “see I know you’re lying baby, I just looked and commented on it. I put big dick breezy” Robyn kissed her teeth “the thing is, I will have you on your knee. I just know it” I sniggered at the fact Robyn is stuck on that “anyways, how are you feeling about your first date?” let me change the conversation “annoyed” shaking my head “oh twin, why you got to be like this. You know I am joking. You and I both know this right?” she does know but she is playing stupid “I do but yeah, I don’t know. I am just going to take it as it is, like I am so excited, but I have kept that thought to the back of my mind about performing Stay, the set list is going to set me off. Because it’s Stay and then Diamonds, I am ging to be crying. I know I will be because my mind is just on that, but I will make it” nodding my head “I will be there for you in the crowd, I am pretty nervous for you, I can only imagine how you must feel. It’s going to hit hard, first time performing it after that happened” she is going to cry, but I don’t blame her for it.

I did want to see Robyn before she went on stage, but she was gone, as soon as we got off the bus the entourage took her, and they did what they needed to do to get her on stage. Mel bought me to the mixing booth in the back, so I am just sat here waiting, I to be honest want to be front row. I really do but I think I will do it myself and go there myself, I am excited for this concert. I mean I am at a Rihanna concert dating her this time, ain’t no daydreaming and smirking to myself. Robyn just thinks and assumes a lot, she knows damn well that I would wife her up, me and her are forever now so that is it. The lights suddenly switched off and the crowd just went crazy for nothing, I mean not going to lie I am excited myself. It’s so damn dark, I wonder where she is going to be actually. She never really said or told me the setup, letting out an oh it’s Mother Mary. I should have known it would have been this song, looking at the screen to see Robyn. She looks so pretty, a little on the skinny side. I didn’t notice that actually until now, tilting my head to the side. Robyn has gone skinnier, maybe it’s the rehearsing that does it to her.

I found a while sheet and it shows what song is what, so the Stay and Diamonds is last, that is good to be honest. I hope she can keep it together, because like prior to this it’s all upbeat songs. Folding the paper up “we found love in a hopeless place” I bopped my head, I need to leave backstage. I think I am going to go to the front because being so far back sucks. I can’t see shit; I mean I can but I can’t. I am about to get myself lost, seeing that Robyn is walking around in the crowd. Let het just get her ass back on stage before I go out there, watching Robyn being touched and harassed by the fans, they really touching her too. Stuffing my hands in my pockets as I stepped out further, she is going back on the stage now so I can come out. Rich dapped me as I stood next to him, I have a feeling I am about to know all these songs off by heart because of being here. Smiling lightly, I am super proud of her, she really out there killing it too. It’s made me see how hard she does work, and then I am just a pain in the ass for her. I mean I don’t intentionally do it to her, shit comes to me. I don’t ask for it to happen, but it happens.

I am pretty nervous for her for this part, like I just think she maybe needed to rehearse but now she has to do it. I am literally stood front and centre to where she is going to stand, the crowd was in uproar assuming that she had finished but she came out and I just knew, I instantly knew with the look on her face she is already emotional. I can’t say how it feels to lose a baby inside of you, or the moment it happens. I can’t say how that is but with the pain she goes through I know it’s something awful, we both lost something that night. Robyn stood in front of the mic, the tune to Stay came on and she was gone, my heart fell for her and I couldn’t do anything to help her but watch her. The crowd screamed louder and louder, Robyn is just breaking, and the crowd chanted her name. I just want to help her, I feel like the Stay intro has been prolonged longer because of this, she is just crying. She turned away from the crowd, I feel so damn helpless what can I do and I am just thinking so hard on what to do, Robyn turned back around and stepped to the mix “all along it was a fever” oh she is pushing through, I swear I am rooting for her “He said, If you dare, come a little closer” dragging my eyes to Robyn and I feel pretty choked up, putting my head down and away from the fact Robyn has hands over her stomach. Flicking the tear that left pretty quickly, this is hard, harder then I assumed it would be.

[indiavolojones]

anon it’s like you’re LOOKING at my diary ヽ(｀Д´)ﾉ

2.5kish, gen, dia/luci.

“Before you do anything stupid that involves my permanent work on your body," the distaste radiating off of Lucifer is palpable, "Try an ear piercing first. It's plenty shocking to you business types, and a helluva lot less painful.”

“So, what do you say, Lucifer?"

SPECIAL THANKS TO @canonlucidia​ FOR BEING THE LUCIFER TRANSLATOR WE ALL NEED TO ELEVATE OUR FICS

~

“Huh,” Diavolo tilts his head, “I would have never guessed you were over eighteen.” 

Lucifer's ID shows none of the telltale signs of forgery, nor does the man look like a teenager. Diavolo just likes to have fun with people that seem too serious for their own good. 

Besides, it would be impossible for Diavolo to misjudge the man in front of him as a child—there are no children with eyes as hard-edged as Lucifer’s. Lucifer’s drenched coat is slung over his arm, the layers beneath thankfully still dry.  His long hair is twisted up in a messy, haphazard bun—something about this man makes Diavolo think this is unusual. 

Probably the impeccably tailored, expensive-looking vest and suit jacket. The watch peeking out from underneath his shirt sleeve is worth at least a couple hundred dollars, if Diavolo’s instincts are right. Minutes within meeting Lucifer and he already knows that this is a man that takes an incredible amount of pride into his appearance. 

Lucifer narrows his eyes, but the effect is less than intimidating to Diavolo, who has faced far worse than severe looks. Besides, the dark, exaggerated bags under his eyes can’t lie. The proud jut of his chin and squaring of his shoulders be damned; Diavolo can sense his bluff a mile away. Lucifer is more likely to pass out from exhaustion than start a brawl. 

“What an interesting business model, insulting your potential clients like this.” Lucifer retorts, and Diavolo thinks he’s probably terrifying when he’s had at least eight hours of sleep.

“There are plenty of other tattoo parlors around town,” Diavolo offers with another disarming smile, his arms crossing. An asshole customer is an asshole customer, no matter how pretty their mouth is. 

“No,” Lucifer insists, “It has to be this one.” 

“Okay… Then you’re going to need to relax a little, because it’s not often that I have people come in during a storm demanding a full back tattoo out of nowhere,” Diavolo shrugs, passing Lucifer’s ID back to him. 

"I wouldn't do any work on you today anyway. You haven't paid the deposit and we haven't had a consultation meeting. Sorry, it's my policy." Diavolo shrugs, not very sorry all and Lucifer can tell. Lucifer looks like he's about to spin on his heel and march out the door, and Diavolo, damn his soft heart, holds up his hands.

"But… if you'd like, we can set you up for a piercing session. We've got an open slot and I'll give you a returning customer’s discount." 

"I want the tattoo." Lucifer says, like Diavolo's stupid for offering anything else and he has to stamp down his own mild tinge of annoyance. 

"And I get that. If you can afford my rates, I'm willing to discuss." Damn it, Diavolo knows the man is trouble, but Lucifer's mouth is so pretty when it frowns, as if affronted at the possibility of him not being able to pay. "But I can tell this is some kind of act of rebellion. I see types like you all the time."

"Types like me—" Lucifer repeats, suddenly furious, and Diavolo holds his hands up placatingly. 

"Hear me out." He says, and Lucifer's mouth snaps shut at the interruption. 

"You’d have to be blind to not see that this is part of some… bigger thing for you," Diavolo gestures at all of Lucifer, "And you're an adult that can make your own decisions. But for now, before you do anything stupid that involves my permanent work on your body," the distaste radiating off of Lucifer is palpable, "Try an ear piercing first. It's plenty shocking to you business types, and a helluva lot less painful. So, what do you say, Lucifer?"

Lucifer doesn't look keen on it, but he at least seems to be seriously mulling over Diavolo's offer. 

More time passes where Diavolo grows more and more convinced that Lucifer is about to tell him to fuck off and walk out of his life. At this point, it would probably be for the best. Diavolo is a sucker for sullen, gorgeous businessmen with obvious emotional baggage—not that he'd realized that until a scant ten minutes ago, but Diavolo's always been a bit of a masochist. 

As if the day's events have finally, truly weighed down on him, with a barely visible slump to his shoulders, Diavolo sees when Lucifer relents before he hears it. 

"Fine."

-

-

Barbatos' workstation is immaculate as ever, and the other works with maximum efficiency to prep his required instruments. 

“You’re the one that pierced my brother, Mammon,” Lucifer says, and something in Diavolo’s brain clicks. Mammon. Lucifer’s brother is Mammon—the very thought almost makes Diavolo burst into laughter. 

Barbatos is nothing if not polite as he tips his head to the side, as if trying to remember Mammon. He snaps his gloved fingers, and nods. 

“Ah, yes! He’s the one that passed out, I believe.” Lucifer looks strangely… delighted by that. 

“I’ll be over there, then,” Diavolo says, leaning against the door frame and gesturing back behind him at the front office. Diavolo almost laughs again when he sees the clear alarm in Lucifer’s eyes, can hear the silent why aren’t you doing it before it’s said out loud. 

“Barbatos is one of the best piercers I’ve ever worked with, you’re in expert hands,” Diavolo hums, soothing. 

It somehow works, because Lucifer is lowering himself into Barbatos’ chair. Not a word escapes from Lucifer as Barbatos finishes prepping the earrings, two black studs that Lucifer had chosen from Diavolo’s display case. Lucifer actually looks a little pale, and Diavolo thinks it’s adorable.

“Unless… you’d like me to hold your hand, if you’re scared?” He teases, and Lucifer’s eyes narrow in purposefully unconcealed fury for one beautiful, brief moment. It shutters away as fast as it comes, and Lucifer is staring impassively at the wall before him. 

“You may leave.” Lucifer dismisses Diavolo.

Diavolo hangs out, just to be a dick. Lucifer does not flinch, or sway in his resolve past that one moment of weakness. Barbatos finishes one ear—Lucifer does not react in the slightest—and moves to the next. He tilts Lucifer’s head gently to get better access, and it makes Lucifer have to look at Diavolo in the doorway. Diavolo gives him a brilliant smile, but Lucifer glares at him the entire time. 

Diavolo loves it. 

-

-

Diavolo doesn’t see Lucifer for one week; but he hasn’t received any terrible reviews on Yelp, and no department official has come knocking down his door with a surprise audit, so he thinks he’s in the clear. All in all, he chalks the experience up to some kind of weird twist of fate. He’s perched on a stool behind the register at the display case when the automatic doorbell chimes. Diavolo’s lips part to welcome the guest even before he looks up. 

“Hey, how’s it—oh,” Diavolo says, finally glancing up from his newspaper, “You got bangs.” 

Gone is the messy, windswept bun that Lucifer had his long hair tossed into, and instead, a short, layered cut has replaced it. It makes him look younger, somehow. Or maybe he’s just gotten more sleep. Lucifer reaches up to card a hand through his hair, pushing the now loose strands out of his face.

Diavolo spares a moment of silence to mourn that he never got to see how long Lucifer’s hair was in person, “It looks nice.” 

He places his cheek in one palm, grinning at his client. It would be easy to miss the light blush on Lucifer’s cheeks at his comments, but Diavolo is more perceptive than most. 

The blush on Lucifer’s cheeks intensifies, and he coughs into his fist. “Thank you. The hair was a nuisance, so I cut it off.”  

Silence passes, and Lucifer blinks, as if he’s not quite sure why he overshared. Diavolo takes pity on him, and tries to continue the conversation.

“How are your ears healing, then? Are you—”

“I’d like to set up a consultation meeting.” Lucifer breathes, and Diavolo blinks at him. Then he sighs. 

“Before that… I suppose I should apologize for my impudence the other day, Mr. Morningstar.” Diavolo says, finally, elbows propped up on the glass counter. He watches for Lucifer’s reaction like a hawk. 

“How did you—” Lucifer’s lips remain tight, before realization dawns behind his eyes. "You saw my ID the other day." 

He glares, no doubt wondering if Diavolo gone to the press with information of his spontaneous request. It would be like dumping chum into shark infested waters for them to hear how the otherwise resolutely tight-lipped eldest brother is doing. Too many people are already trying to pick at the man’s psyche for more garbage to feed the greedy masses. 

“I barely even noticed your last name," Diavolo waves his hand in the air dismissively, "However… it's a little hard to ignore a face like yours when it’s been plastered all over the news,” Diavolo spins the newspaper around, sliding it across to show the grainy picture of Lucifer and three of his younger brothers at the last company gala. Lucifer's proud, intimidating stare is unmistakable in its intensity. 

The headline ‘FALL FROM GRACE: Lucifer Morningstar Leaves Celestial Industries over Disinheritance Scandal with Brothers’ stretches across the page in blocky, damning font. 

"I didn’t reach out to any media outlets. You can relax,” Diavolo huffs, “But really? Your first move after all this is to go and get a tattoo?" 

“Do all of your consultations feel like interrogations?” Lucifer shoots back, lips turned down in a frown. He does not look down at the article, his gaze keeping level with Diavolo's.

Diavolo laughs, and holds his hands up, “No, not really. I only try to make sure my clients understand that this is too permanent and expensive of a decision to make on an emotional bender. Tattoo removal is possible, but it’s costly.” Diavolo lets his own eyes narrow in the slightest, “Considering you don’t have the fortune of a multi-billion dollar corporation to fund your whims anymore, I doubt you’d have the money to spare if this is something you regret.” 

“Why are you antagonizing me over this,” Lucifer grits out, hands fisted at his sides. 

“I take pride in my work, Morningstar.” Diavolo stands, inherently pleased to see that Lucifer’s furious gaze has to tilt up in the slightest to continue meeting his eyes, “I have no desire to see someone else's terrible work slapped over something I created." 

"If you get paid, what does it matter?" Lucifer spits, clearly reaching his wit's end. Diavolo stares at him, silent, and Lucifer shuts his eyes. He exhales through his nose for strength, and cards a hand through his hair again, clearly unused to it still. When he speaks, his tone is genuine, and he sounds tired. 

"I apologize," Diavolo blinks, not expecting the other to deflate as they have. When his eyes open again, they are alight with a fervor that Diavolo's breath catches at. “I have had…. An interesting week.” His smile is wry, too tangled up with hidden meanings that Diavolo isn’t sure if he should consider it a smile at all. 

“I understand that this is permanent. As permanent as being disinherited publicly.” Lucifer’s stare is unflinching, his resolve ironclad and as spirited as Diavolo’s own, “Which is why I have come to request a consultation appointment, rather than demand you do it today. You are the only one who I want for this.”

Why rests on the tip of his tongue, but Diavolo knows the hard look in Lucifer's eyes, the kind of determination that refuses to be ignored, denied. It's entirely possible that Lucifer himself does not know why, only that he must. Diavolo keeps his gaze for another moment longer, fingers suddenly twitching for a habit that he quit long ago. Barbatos would kill him if he started smoking cigarettes again anyway.

Another moment, and Diavolo allows himself to smile. 

"You could have scheduled a consultation online, you know," Diavolo laughs, and moves from around the counter towards his small side office. 

"Come on," Diavolo says, but Lucifer does not move, still staring Diavolo down from his place in Diavolo's front desk area. Diavolo looks up at the heavens, exhaling ruefully, "I'm assuming you have an idea of what you want." 

Lucifer only takes a moment to shake himself out of his stupor, the cool, almost snobbish expression back on his face. 

"Of course."

--

--

Diavolo's laugh shakes the walls of the small office, and Lucifer's face is, amazingly, deep red. Diavolo is hunched over, hands gently sifting through the sketches. 

"You're insane. Your first tattoo and you want a fully detailed back piece? Not to mention it's huge." 

"We’re looking at somewhere between twenty and thirty hours of work. What if you can't handle the pain? Back tattoos can be rather painful, depending on where I'm working at the time."

"That won’t be an issue." Lucifer sniffs, back straight as he sits across from Diavolo.

“It’s going to cost you,” Diavolo warns. He knows what his work and experience is worth, and charges appropriately. 

“Everything does,” he says, simply. He catches the quick glance Lucifer tosses at his now bare wrist, and remembers something about Lucifer wearing one of those fancy watches last time he’d seen the other. Had he sold it?

Diavolo hums, before looking back down at the sketches in front of him.

"Did you draw these?" Diavolo asks, impressed with the amount of detail. It'll be a challenge for sure, but if Lucifer wants to keep the tattoo exactly like the source drawing, Diavolo's confident he can do it justice. However… if Lucifer allows him to add his own touch... it'll be spectacular.

"My sister," he hesitates on the word, and Diavolo knows there's a lot to unpack behind that, and immediately labels that as 'definitely do not touch', "She was the artist of our family." 

Ah, was. Lucifer's gaze darkens as he stares down at the papers, and Diavolo sighs. He runs a hand through his short hair, and leans back on the couch. Crossing his arms, he huffs when he looks at Lucifer again.

"Alright, you're crazy, but it's your money." 

-

Other assorted headcanons/thoughts:

Not exactly sure what Lu’s desired tattoo is but it’s something like this pic

Lilith has like, Just Died. Is v sad. 

Getting his ears pierced felt like absolute nothing to Lucifer, but having no point of reference he’s allowed to be a lil apprehensive. (“It’s like a shot, just… really close to your face!”  Thanks, Mammon.)

Mammon has awful tattoos from different artists, but ever since he discovered this Diavolo fellow, they've all been coming out beautifully. Asmo has also gone! Lu doesn't trust online reviews, and while he takes what Mammon and Asmo say with a grain of salt, he can’t deny the quality he's seen of Diavolo's is phenomenal. 

Diavolo's art style is similar to Lilith's.

All the brothers are around in this lil universe. for certain Reasons, it's just Luci/Mams/Levi/Asmo that have all been disinherited for now. 

It's been several years since I got a tattoo so I pulled details out of my ass sorry for the inaccuracies 

as always ty for reading (ノ°∀°)ノ⌒･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

[shesawriter39049]

|THE PLUG| P.2|M|JIMIN|

**JIMIN GETTING A LATE NIGHT TEXT FROM ANOTHER “CUSTOMER” SEEMS TO STIR UP SOME FEELINGS YOU DIDN'T EVEN KNOW YOU HAD ****

Smut/ LIGHT Angst/ A lil fluff

Jimin and the OC are both whipped at this point...

The OC get’s jealous and a tad bit bratty so Jimin has to put her in her place

Pierced and tatted Jimin

5K

Jimin is a soft dom and a whole daddy, I said what I said....

WARNINGS: Language, dirty talk ,Soft dom Jimin, light cum play, light choking, overstimulation, oral (F receiving) creme pie/unprotected sex,hair puling, Jimin likes to be marked, the OC has a slight pain kink, light daddy kink(it’s not said physically during sex moreso jokingly but it’s used within the series)

Jimin 💨💨😏12:07PM : I’ll be back in town tonight, be ready by 10...pack a bag because I don’t plan on returning you until Monday night…..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been a little over a week since you’d seen him, the night the two of you ended up going out to dinner Jimin informed you he’d be heading out of town to handle some “Business” . Though he obviously didint go into much deatail you weren’t stupid, I mean the reason you met him in the first place is because he’s your local plug. Well aware that he grows his own supply, so 9 times outta 10 if he was going out of town it was for some sort of drug transaction. Now what you weren’t too sure about is if Jimin handled things stronger than just some ganja...but at the end of the day the less you knew the better!

Honestly, you weren’t expecting much to come from “That night” but you’d be lying if you said it wasn't one of the best dates you’d been on in years.Everything from the conversation, his choice in restaurant ambiance, and of course the sex, fuck...the sex. The kind that could have you on the brink of coming just from the thought of it alone….yeah..that kinda sex!

Ya know what's funny ? While on your date, you finally realized you really don’t know much about Jimin Park, outside of the obvious. So why did your heart damn near fall out of your ass when he told you he had to leave for “business” ? Why are you so anxious to see a man that you barely even know outside of the bedroom?

Believe it or not, this past week is actually the closest you’ve ever felt to him on a personal level outside of sex. While he was away handling whatever, the two of you spoke frequently, typically via text but it’s just the principle. Previously, the only time you’d text is when you were reaching out for a late night “special delivery”. You’d never dream of texting him just because you were bored or stressed..or to share the bomb ass combination of snacks you put together while stoned. Yet as of late you didin’t question yourself if you went to pick up your phone just to forward some stupid Twitter meme.

You were finally starting to learn little things about him, nothing major but still, the two of you did all this backwards so now it’s like your finally transitioning into the friend category. Which excited you as much as it terrifed you...because at the end of the day, behind all the smoke and mirriors, the sex, the pretty face, the nice car...

Jimin.IS.A.DRUG.DEALER. Plain and simple, everything about his life won’t be as pretty as his face!

I mean fuck, what if Jimin went out of town to kill someone for fucking up one of his trancations!? Yes, I know that was a little dramatic, but to be fair..you really don’t “know” him that well sooo…..anythings possible!

Yet, no matter how many thoughts and scenarios you had buzzing through your head that still didn't stop you from packing that overnight bag!

It was going on 10 at night the Friday of Labor Day weekend, and THANK GOD for a four day weekend...Jimin had literally just driven back in town and the first thing he did was pick you up. Secretly feeling like a giddy school girl on the inside once you read his text, it was straight to the point no BS...just flat out “I wanna spend the weekend with you”

The usual cat and mouse game the two of you played were you acted as though the visit was supposed to be solely “Business” related was clearly long gone. Jimin didn't care how much weed you wanted or if you even wanted any to begin with, he just wanted you...in his bed coming on his dick until you were light headed. Plain and simple…

You heard the purr of his blacked out challenger creep up your driveway, as you may or may not have been impatiently waiting for him in the foyer. Freshly showered, overnight bag packed, sexy barely there lingerie, hidden under an oversized tee that you actually stole from him the last time you were over! Forcing yourself to play it cool you waiting for his normal “Here” text before bolting to the door, but to your surprise the minute the door flung open there he was. Resting against the frame of your screen door, skin extremely tanned from whatever state he just came back from. Especially in contrast to his crisp white V-neck, and freshly tousled blonde locks, lips looking even poutier than usual.

“Hey…” fluttered from your chest as you smiled up at him, fuck he was so.Damn.Fine. Brow arched in disapproval at your owe too formal greeting.

“Really!? Is that how you think I wanna be greeted, after not seeing you for a damn week?” There was something extremely sexy about the fact that Jimin did not appear to play games. Very straight forward about what he wanted...and right now that was you….

Head cocked to the side slightly, tongue playing at this bottom lip, eyes unraveling you from head to toe, his ring coated fingers signaled for you to come closer “ Come to daddy…”

Not even trying to hide the exaggerated sigh that left your chest as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. The minute you stepped past the screen he scooped you up, hands taking purchases under your thighs. Knocking you back against the door with one deep roll of his hips, effortlessly snatching a moan from your throat while your head jerked against the glass.Blunt nails clawing at your ass while his tongue licked its way through the seam of your lips with a slight moan.Letting the metal bar from his piercing tease at your bottom lip in the process, fuck you couldnt wait to feel him between your thighs again! “Hii..” Slipped off his tongue, as he rolled his hips even deeper this time smirking against your lips in the process.

Hands roaming up his back purposely digging your nails through the thin fabric of his shirt before letting them get tangled in his hair. Taking a possessive hold on the strands at the nape of his neck, yanking his head back leaving his neck on full display. Breaking away from the kiss to suck on the owe so prominent vein probing through his skin. When it came to you Jimin's neck was his sweet spot, this man loved when you marked him! Claiming such a vulnerable yet “open” place as your own!

One hand coming up to caress the back of your neck holding you in place, as you sucked,licked and nipped at his skin. “Babyyyy” moaned past his lips as he stroked the side of your neck.

“Miss me?” the question was rhetorical, you could feel that he misses you even if it was purely sexual you were just curious if he’d admit it or

“I just drove 7 hours, and picking you up was my first stop...what the fuck do you think?” Another shameless moan rolled off his tongue , as your hands fell from his hair , kissing your way up his jaw, reclining it even more to give you better access.

A humm leaving your lips at that, though you were more flustered at his admission than anything “Good, because I’m over touching myself to that video we made a month ago....I need you to fuck me” Flicking at the hinge with your tongue smirking against his skin once the needies moan imaginable fell from his lips. While his hand crept into your hair, mimicking the hold you held on his, the new position forced you to stare into those big puppy dog eyes of his. Which were screaming how bad he needed you almost more than his cock was as it sat pressed throbbing against your thigh.

Tugging your bottom lip between his teeth, soothing the sting sligthly with his tongue, “Then we should probaly get outta here, before I bend you over, and fuck you on your damn porch!”

“Ohhh, is that a threat or a promise?” Brow quirked...testing your luck

“Baby, remember who your talking to then try that again, so you decide if you want little Susie next door to see you get fucked or not. Because the cops flicking me for indecenent exposure is the last thing on my mind….I’ll fuck you wherever you want me too..”

No, the sharp inhale that flooded your chest didn't go unnoticed, the smirk on Jimin’s face said it all “That’s what I thought….”

~~~~~

You found yourself stoned, laying in a sea of pillows on Jimin’s king sized bed,flicking through Netflix while he was in the shower. The sound of his phone ringing knocked you out of your current haze, not even aware he left it charging on the nightstand. Somehow you magically ended up all the way on the other side of the bed... Which is ironically where his nightstand was..hhmm Imagine that!

The number itself wasn’t saved but it was a local area code, you weren’t his girlfriend so it damn sure isn't your place to check and or answer his phone. More importantly, selling weed IS Jimin’s job. So you shouldn’t be surprised he’s getting random calls, hell you used to be one of those calls.

But thennnnn the person sent a text..and I mean you shouldn't look butttt……

(586) 445-8474: 11:12PM : Jiminieeeeeeeeeeeeee😍😍😍

You couldn't even help the snarl that naturally left your lips at that, everything from the nickname to the 83673 Emojis let you know this was a girl. But again your not official, not even close...so you can’t be mad….

Not even a minute later

(586) 445-8474: 11:12PM : It’s been too long, your favorite client is feeling neglected🥺 ...I think I deserve a special delivery…

“Of fucking course you do….” Eyes rolling to the back of your head more times than you could count, the dialogue just felt a little too familiar for you liking. But again, your not offical, and Jimin’s fine as fuck, you’d be stupid to think other "customers” didn;t have the same agenda as you. But still, THERE. NOT . YOU!

“Oh my fuck really!!?” Yes, you were legit yelling at the phone but I mean in all fairness..she was getting annoying she’s literally blowing Jimin’s phone up right now like dude CHILL! This is your third text in less than 5 minutes! Go play with your vibrator or something clearly he’s busy!

(586) 445-8474: 11:14: You already know what I want...just the usual with a little bonus on the side…..😏😏😏👅👅

I swear you almost threw up in your mouth at that, the sound of the shower shutting off had you flying over to the other side of the bed. Yet you couldn't wash the attitude off your face, not a damn chance....arms crossed eyes glued to all of nothing that danced along his flat screen.

Sauntering out, hair wet, slicked out of his face, his toned and tanned abdomen glistening...towel sitting dangerously low, v lines on full display. Standing there in all his glory, yet  believe it or not you were too damn annoyed to even be turned on right now!

“Your phones been having a seizure by the way…” Words leaving your lips dry as all hell earning an airy chuckle to fall from his lips. Still completely clueless to your current attitude...

“Oh yeah? Ya know, I’ve been saying I need a secretary..seems like your already on top of it...you down for hire?I’d pay you in more ways than one...” Slowly running his tongue along his teeth as he strolled in your direction, muscles flexing as he walked.

“Nah I’m good…” nothing subtle about the bite in our voice, eyes blatantly avoiding him and he already had an idea why. A slight smirk tugging on his lips as he walked over to his phone. Taking a quick look at all 8262 of his missed texts from his mystery customer before making his way over to you.

“Did you even notice I don’t even have her number saved?” To your surprise there wasn't a lick of attitude laced within his tone

Shrugging before he could even complete the sentence, an amused chuckle fluttered through the air, well, I’m glad he found this funny.

Bracing himself on his hands and knees as he crawled over to you, a knot forming in your stomach in anticipation! It was a lot easier to be angry when he was standing afar you didn’t need to see all things that were Jimin Park in close proximity! Fuck, you really didn't wanna cave..even though you really had NO right to be mad, but that's besides the point. Your in too deep at this point ya just gotta commit!

“Stop” spine going rigid at the almost primal glint  that hit his eyes as a narrowed in your direction.

“You know I don’t don’t have time to play games, I told you...daddy had some business to handle...I haven’t had time for anything...or anyone else….” Reaching over grabbing both of your ankles, yanking you down the bed in one swift notion. Breath hiccuping in your chest, at how quickly he moved you, often forgetting how strong this man really was. Positioning you right under him, caging you in. The strong scent of vanilla hitting your nose as you tried your damnedest to keep your best poker face on!  Yet all you wanted to do is lean up and taste those sinfully thick lips of his. He knew it too, the way your eyes immediately dropped down...so he hoovered..nice and low as he talked, purposely teasing you until you had to damn near mentally restrain yourself from chasing after him.

“‘I just got back in town and your the one in my bed so fix your fuckin face….”  There wasn’t any inflation in tone, nor did the tenor change within that tranquil lull he called a voice! Yet you felt you chest get tight..fuck everything got tight. Still baffled by how much authority just slipped past his lips in the calmest tone imaginable.

Turning your head to rest your cheek on the side of the bed, trying to avoid eye contact, clearly he didn't like that. “I never realized how much of a brat you could be ...your usually such a good girl for me is this what happens when I leave you untouched?!” Gripping a chunk of your hair right at the scalp . Tilting your head until your neck was arched off the bed , a hiss leaving your lips from the current sting that was fluttering from your scalp down to your core.

Eyes narrowing in his direction, jaw tight “ I. Don’t. Care. You don't owe me anything so-”

Cutting you off with a snarl, tugging your hair even tighter until he pulled a restrained moan from your throat “ Oh don’t give me that bullshit, you do care, and I no I don't owe you anything...but I’m choosing to let you know…”

Shifting slightly so one of his knees sat between your thighs, pressed firm against your heat, towel falling back on the bed in the process”So how long are you gonna try and sit in my face…” Dropping his posture so he was braced on one elbow...exchange the grip he held on your scalp for your waist. Digging his thumb into your hip “..And act like me telling you, your the only person I’ve been wrapped around...isint why your pussys fuckin soaked..” Pulling your panties to the side just enough to tease you. Slowly rocking your hips against his thigh. Body arching naturally needing to feel more no matter how much you wanted to fight it, and he gave you what you wanted. Lifting your hips, guiding you in a deep wave like motion, applying steady pressure to your clit until it was almost sticking to his thigh...even through your panties ...”Such a greedy little thing aren't you? your gonan fuck around and come all over my thigh if you keep it up, your clits already getting hard baby I can feel it…”

“Oh fuck meeee..” Hissed past your lips in slight defeat as your body betrayed you once again eyes fluttering to the back of your head as you clawed at his sheets

“ Oh I will, especially because..if were being honest... “ Reaching over with his opposite, grabbing a fist full of your shirt, yanking you upright while he rested his weight on his knees. Having your lips flush against his thigh, head lulling on your shoulder as they spread every so slightly, giving you direct  stimulation. Waving his tongue into your mouth, the kiss was hard, deep, so much so that he almost knocked the went out of you. “The idea of me... being the only one to fill you up get’s me sooo fuckin hard..”

Faint kisses fluttered against your lips as he took your hand in his, letting you take a little detour up his chiseled adbodomed, along his chest..edging your way down to his pelvis. Gently digging your nails into his V-Lines...eyes glued to the way his muscles tensed as you ravished over them with the pads of your fingers. Your fingers were tingling you were getting so impatient ...finally guiding you down to stroke his length guiding your movements. Almost as if he was teasing himself, not fully applying steady pressure. Or maybe he was waiting for you to take the lead. Work him in your hand like it was yours ….

The feeling of him hot and ready, throbbing against your palm had you stroking him on your own accord loving the site above you your own little private show. Watching his plush lips part as he slowly started to unravel eyes sitting low.For the first time since you've known him you were the cause of the sudden haze that washed over his body ...a low throaty moan leaving his chest.

“I can’t believe your over here trippin over some bitch on my phone when ....you got me right here hard as fuck ready to do whatever you want me to” Thoes words fell from his lips in nothing but a honey coated moan…”Mmm..you feel that? it's all for you if you want it…”

Aburputy knocking you back on the bed...body bouncing slightly against the mattress “You want it...your pussys telling me how bad you want it, these sexy little panties are soaked baby…” Eyes falling to admire the wet patch forming against your panties, a moan slipping from his lips as he pressed two fingers firm against your clothed slit making your body jerk.”All I thought about my entire ride home was making you come-”

The sound of another incoming text rang through the air completely snatching you out of the mood .

“You should probably get to that , wouldn't want you to miss out on an important customer. “ Rolling your eyes as tried to get up..you thought! One roll of Jimin’s hips knocked you right back on your ass.

“Do you really think I give a fuck about what’s going on, on my phone right now? Your not stupid you know what she wants from me….that’s why your so pissy-”

“I told you I-” 

“Fucking stop-” Cutting you off before you could continue your normal sechduled bullshit! 

“You know why she hit me up….”  Reaching for your shirt  again, pulling  you up to straddle his thighs “..And you care...”  Resting his forehead agaisnt yours…”lie to me again...I fuckin dare you...” There was a good 5 second pause that felt like it lasted a hour your heart was pounding so fast, while Jimin’s eyes pryed into yours “I’m not a child Y/N, I don’t play mind games! What I want, and who I want is right here-”…

“Prove it…”  Fell from your lips before you could even think about it, fuck it was so cliche but you meant it! 

There was a blatant shift once you said that, instantly, his face softened but his eyes got dark “I don't need to prove shit Y/N...you already know and that’s why your upset” Lips ghosting over yours as he spoke, fuck why were you already panting he hasn’t even done anything yet! “Actually... you could feel it,feel that shits shifting between us, and that’s the ONLY reason. You even give a fuck that some chicks on my phone” 

You throat got dry as all hell, deffiently not expecting for him to call you out like that “What you felt wasn’t in your head, it was real,and you’ll feel it again, and again. Until it sticks in that thick ass head of yours that we both have options, but clearly-” Brow quirked arrogantly, almost as if to say “You see where we are..,you already know whats up!”

Shifting forward to lay you back on the bed, grounding his hips into yours to hold you in place . pressing his lips against yours refusing to make the first move, now it was all on you, "Stop being stubborn and tell me that you want me, tell me that you want this..." Voice dropping to a sinful tenor, just as as dominant as it was needy!

"I want it" You didint even need to think about it because he was right..that's the only reason you got upset...you want whatever “This” is .

Slowly sliding his tongue past the seam of your lips at the admission...hands soothing up your thighs pulling back, yanking your shirt over his head "You look good in my shirt by the way..." the contrast of his rings against your skin was inviting since every inch of your body felt like it was set ablaze once he started placing open mouthed kisses down your stomach. Blowing over every spot he licked, eyes zoning in on the way your muscles contracted everytime. “Fuck, I can smell you from here…” Jimin’s mouth was literally watering as your arousal graced his nose.

Soft moans fell from your lips as he spread your legs even wider, pressing your ass firm into his mattress.  Hands kneading at your inner thighs, while you laid there fully exposed giving him free-reign to your body. Yet you didn't feel uncomftable, or embarrassed, in fact it was the exact opposite...suddenly feeling this need within you to let him have you any way he wanted.

“Do you always get this wet or is it just for me?” Teeth sinking into the side of your hip, making you buck into his mouth! Running away from the sting while begging for more all at the same time.

“You, fuck it’s you, please don’t do this, no teasing I’ve been needing you all day…” The admission was honest you woke up aching for him. Once he got to your hip bone you gripped the sheets on command anticipation for him to drag this out and tease you but boy where you damn wrong!

Reclining his jaw, placing his mouth over your lips, swallowing your clit in the process, “Jiminnn” Hands flying to his head, almost trying to pull him off , not expecting it to feel that intense...prepared for him to take it slow, edge you a little for being a brat. But it was clear Jimin wasn't in the mood to play games whatsoever tonight.

“Na-uh...I’m not stopping until your feel it...all of it…” Gliding his tongue along your folds, reaching up to free the hold you held on his hair, intertwining his fingers with yours instead. Back arching slightly as you squeezed down on his fingers, this man was treating your clit as if it was your tounge. There's no other way to describe the intense pressure he was applying to every inch of your heat. Licking,sucking,swirling his tongue around you like it was his life's goal to rip you apart nerve, by nerve  as quickly as possible. You could physically hear the sound of his lips sucking against your juices how wet, and messy you were. “Such a greedy pussy baby…” Smirking against your folds as he watched the way your entrance clenched and released around nothing, sliding his tounge over your slit again this time a little slower. Teasing your entrance, waving it in and out, almost grazing the top of your walls in the process.

By now Jimin knew exactly what do you to get you off within minutes if need be, lapping his tongue around all of the juices falling from every crevice. Eyes wired shut, as your body jerked and tensed at every deadly roll of the tongue, the added sensation from his piercing had you damn near crawling up the bed. You could feel Jimin moaning out a taste of you, every sound vibrated through your body as he captured your clit between his lips, sucking on it mercilessly grazing it gently with his teeth. “Jiminnnn fuckkk..” Back arching off the end as you squeezed down on his fingers even fighter, you were sure his fingers were going numb!  He wasn’t holding back on you tonight kneading out in pleasure burying your face into the sheets, biting down as hard as you could.

A breathy whine of his name feel from your lips as he already knew that meant you were coming, your clit started to tense beneath his tongue. Gently freeing your hand from his, brining it down to meet his tongue. Sliding 3 fingers in knuckle deep in one notion, which pushed you completely over the edge, a brittle cry left your throat. Body naturally jerking away from him as you came, trying to turn on your side, clamping your thighs around his head. Only making him moan even harder as your juices slide down his chin. The vibrations pushing you even further over the edge, working you through your orgasmn he relsed your clit, but still kept slowly pumping his fingers in and out. Soft praises fell from his lips as he watched you fall apart beanthe him.

“God your so fuckin sexy baby, you did sooo good..you taste fuckin amazing…” Voice sitting a little husky, already sounding fucked out. The only noise in the background was the low hum of the tv and the sound of your juices being being roamed around your pussy. Using your own arousal to get himself nice and wet, soft moans fell from his lips as he worked himself in his hand.

The sound alone had you eyes prying open as you reached up, tugging on his chain gently so he’d lean forward.”Come’re..”Sliding your tongue into his mouth, moaning out as you tasted yourself letting your fingers get lost in his slightly damp locks.”Why is your cock in your hand instead of my pussy?” Brow arched arrogently “Fuck, meeee” Biting down on his bottom lip, your request is more of a command, using the brattestt tenor ever but he didint fight you on this. Throbbing too damn hard for you to draw this out, a low growl hissed from his lips as he angled himself at your entrance, pushing into you making you ground your hips into the mattress the pressure was so intense. “Oh my god…” but you damn sure weren't running away, you needed him.

Tilting your head back, jaw slightly ajar, as the blunt head of his dick started morphing his way into your heat as both of you moaning out at the stretch, eyes flutter to the back of your head, bracing your weight on your elbows, while his lips connected to your ear “You feel it yet ?” panted from his lips you could feel him smirking against your skin. Whimpering out in response, slamming your lips back into his as he bottomed out completely damn near knocking the wind out of you in the process.

A low whine leaving your chest, while Jimin braced his hands on your knees spreading them to their breaking point as he started pounding into you.  Jimin was never one to fuck on jack rabbit speed, but he could still get rough and thats the modd he was in tonight, his thrust were slow and deep, but HARD. Pelvis bone grazed your clit at every thrust ‘Fuck I missed this, you feel so good around me baby, so fuckin tight” snarled from his lips

Teeth digging into his bottom lip as he fucked into you, the moans that fell from your throat only edged him on, you swore he was still throbbing even while being balls deep inside you. “How are you still so tight!? you just won't...ease up tonight fuckkkkk…” You were holding onto him for dear life, even as he slid out your pussy would catch him! Clamping down around the tip, walls never fully relaxing, almost as if he had to break his way through with every thrust.

“I told you I needed you, you fucked me soo good the last time baby...it’s all I could think about….” Arching your hips slightly meeting his thrust, challanging them actually,  egging him on to fuck you even harder “Yes-yes-fuckkk-I missed you….” Not sure where that came from but you didn't regret it and you weren't taking it back.

The confession ripped a moan from his throat, as he brought one had up to stroke your jaw, thumb flicking your bottom lip which you welcomed with your tongue. Sucking it into your mouth  with a moan as you rolled your hips even deeper, eyes glued to his.  “ Mmm, I missed you too, fuckk..” Head snapping back at how tight you just got upon him saying that, jaw tight, nostrils flared, completely consumed in everything that is you! “ Goddamn, I’m not gonna last, you gotta let up a little baby fuckk…”  Leaning over to spit directly on your clit.

“I can’t- I can’t -you, you feel too good..” Your words were so broken you were so close, exchanging the hold he had on your hip for neck. Applying just the right amount of pressure, while his other hand came down to work your clit, his skilled fingers circling the overly sensitive bud until your body felt like it was toppling over itself. Crying out his name in boken whispers, as you came with such force Jimin almost felt as if you were pushing in out from how hard you were pulsing around him.

“Fuck..” Growled from his chest, as his hips started to falter “So fuckin wet…babbyyyy…” sounding almost as if he was pleading for you to stop even though to be fair you weren't doing anything. Grinding into your slowly as you whined into the pillow. Bringing his fingers up from your clit letting you taste yourself,using it almost as a distraction.Lapping your tongue over the diggest with a slight moan. You started trying to fuck him back only earning a smack to the clit “No fuck, dont- I’ll come right now and I don’t- fuck- I dont wanan come yet…” Leaning forward to lick his way back into your mouth, deep and slopply, teeth clicking together slightly “It’s so fuckin messy god I love it...love fuckin your pussy baby…” Moaned past him lips as he started picking up his pace again.

“Mmm, I can feel it dripping out...I meant  I said earily...I can’t even get myself this wet...you fuck me soo good Jimin...so good” Letting your figners get tangled in his hair.

“Jesus..” He was winded, and ready to come then and there, but needed to pull one more from you, whether you knew it or not. Taking a moment to pull himself together,before slamming right back into you. The sound of his headboard banging against the wall muffled the sound of you completely falling apart. Once he found your spot again he rammed it mercilessly “Come again, come with me baby please..” Whined form his lips his voice breaking ever so slightly. This time you brought your own hand down to work your clit, Knowing exactly what to do you push you right back to the edge. “Yes, yes, fuck good girl, such a good girl  for me…” He could feel you getting tighter and tighter.

“Comeee, fill me up again baby….let me feel it, all of it!”Knowing you choice of words would push him over the edge,his thrust became uneven and you knew he was done. Your name fell from his lips repeatedly as his warmth spilled through you. Which is actually what triggered your third release, as it came crashing on top of you ripping a silent cry from your throat as your body spazzed around him. Pulling out slowly, only to play in his cum that was leaking out, swirling it around his fingers. Body jerking at every touch, shoving it all back in, followed by his length which had you back coming to a complete arch, nails digging into the sheets. Jimin feathered kisses all over your face, praising you repeatedly trying to get your body to stop shaking.He didn't wanna lose your warmth yet, he needed to feel you, soft moans fell from his lips as he tried to soothe you. His body still just as sensitive, and it didn't help that you were still pulsing around him.

Hands roaming up your thighs, his tongue stroking yours leisurely. Slowly grinding his hips into yours actually somewhat edging you ... giving just enough to have you on the brink of begging for him to give it all to you even though you really couldn’t handle it! Pulling your lips away from his tenantivily “I can’t feel my legs, your legit carrying me the rest of the weekend….” Straight up pouting and 100% serious though Jimin only laughed, an exhausted airy chuckle filled the room.

“Your fault, your challenged me baby girl...I guess you know better than to doubt me huh?” Flicking your bottom lip with ths tounge, the peice of metal teaseing your skin.

“I mean..I dont know, if you’ll fuck me like that everytime I do then maybeeeee-” The sound of his phone ringing finally his body from y yours with a loud sigh

“I gotta get that...All “after hour specials” aside..this..” Flicking his head in the direction of his phone “This is my job, this is my life, my phone rings at all hours of the night and realistically...if they want at least a quarter even if it’s after midnight theres a good chance I’ll make the drop….”

A long sigh left your chest because you knew what he was getting at, as I stated earlier Jimin didn't play games. This was his way of letting you know if you wanted to keep doing whatever “This” is...you’d have to get used to his lifestyle….

Nodding slowing...kissing up his face, until your lips found his again, there was no ulterior motive...you just wanted to taste him. “I have a couple contracts with dispensaries...and cbd shops which is good..because that’s steady reliable money...but I’m a hustler at heart. I take care of myself, have since I was 16, everything I do isn't as clean and pretty as my face…”  his choice of words were playful but there was nothing innocent about what he was implying!

Leaning down to kiss your forehead, a timid smile tugging on his cheeks, you could tell how vulnerable he felt right now. Brining your hands up to soothe his back as he talked.Not sharing too much because in the same notion, outside of the fact that you’ve been buying weed from him for damn near 6 months, on a personal level he dosen’t know much about you either. But considering the way things have escalated recnetly he knows he owes you atleast a vauge warning...

“I’m not gonna lie to you, all of my clients aren’t like Brandi...that’s her name by the way she’s a nurse...or the one who just text I’m sure it’s Tim..he’s an IT guy. They usually come to me once every other month and I put together a Little special. which is equivalent to 2 1/2 eighths! “

Eyes damn near bugging out of your head that,which made  it made him chuckle lightening the mood a little!  Eighters aren’t cheap they could be well over $150 depending on the type so between the two of them Jimin could easily make almost $1000 in one night!

“And yes, since I’m sure it’s been buzzing through your mind some of my clients are just a cliche and shady as you’ve probably imagained…..”

The sharp inhale that left your chest didn't go unnoticed, “ I’m not a rookie baby relax, I’m not reckless, but I’m also not innocent. There maybe nights, or even days were I go MIA and I won’t tell you where I am...the less you know the better.”

The idea of that alone kinda made your heart sink, nights were you'd have to feel him creak out of bed and not know where he was going and more importantly if he’d even make it back. “My lifestyle isn't for everyone, but my bills stay paid and it keeps my savings account up for a rainy day. I don’t have family to lean on...all I got is me...Soo I gotta do what I gotta do….” You heard his voice flutter in his chest at the mention of family, or lack there of!

Reaching up to cup his face in your hands, locking your eyes with his “Why are you telling me all this Jimin….” You needed him to say it..spell it out…

The smile that moved up his face as he licked his lips had your chest tight. The blatant fondness that dance through his eyes as he gazed back at you!

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you, and I don’t want too... I like the idea of you keeping my bed warm for me at night...but I don't want to paint a false picture of who I am. At the end of the day I’m not some corporate hothead in a suit, though I own a few and look damn good in it… too…”

Always so modest eyes rolling to the back of your head, an exhausted giggle left your chest “I like who I’m getting to know, and I know your not some super clean cut guy. And I’m not gonna lie it’s actually kinda sexy…..” You couldn't even hide the smile that creeped up your face if you wanted to as you felt his dick twitch, at the sudden praise.  Almost forgetting he was still buried between your thighs. Making it damn hard to focus on much else  now….

“I-I don't really know how this whole thing works, but I don’t mind trying..and just taking whatever this “thing” is..day by day with you….I’ve known who you were since, the first night I let you in...I’m not expecting you to be anything other than the guy I met outside of Jhonnys” Thumbing at his bottom lip, feeling somewhat anxious after you spit all that out...

The purest smile stretched across his face until you were almost questioning where his eyes went! Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, nodding slowly , you could physically feel the tension leaving his body .

“You can come with me if you want...I won’t say that often, actually probaly ever..but Tim and Brandi are harmeless..and they live in the fuckin burbs!  Also, it would let Brandi know that I gotta take my late night specials off the menu…”

You couldn’t help but snort out a laugh at that nudging his chest playfully “If I go there's 3 stipulations.”

Brow arching in curiosity ‘Hmmm?”

“1st, you need to roll me a joint, because my muscles are aching thanks to somebody!! “ A smug smirk tugged on his lips at that

“Two….you gotta buy me whatever I want from 7/11 because you live in Africa and I need snacks for the road” A cackle ruperted from his chest, Jimin had one of the purest laughs you’d every heard. What makes it even better is he laughs with his entire body, almost falling off the bed in the process.

“And last ...were gonna play 21 questions….on our ride down there...I’m not here to find out your secret sauce for your fire hybrids..I just ...wanna get to know you...not “Jimin The Plug”...just..my Jimin…” Feeling somewhat shy once you said that, especially because you already claimed him without even realizing it! But the smile that moved up his face as he strolled closer killed any doubts…

“Your Jimin” Hmmm..I like that, and it’s a deal...to all three...and thennnn…” Crawling his way over to you, letting his body hoover over yours “When we get back...we can crawl back into bed and I’ll  fuck you right to sleep…”

THATS ALL SHE WROTE!!! FOR NOW...I ACTUALLY ALREADY HAVE AN IDEA FOR PART 3 ( IT GETS A LITTLE ANGSTY) SO IF THIS GETS ENOUGH LOVE ILL ADD IT TO MY LIST. IF YOU LIKED IT “LIKE IT” COME DROP BY THE ASKS AND LEMME KNOW…

SIDE NOTE: Leave a comment if you want me to do a little excerpt of  their 21 questions car ride...for the MOST part the questions will be legit. Not “what's a kink I don't know about” it will be them actually getting to know each other BUT it’s Jimin so it will get a little cheeky of course!!

UPDATE AS OF 9/8- I AM DOING A 21Q’S CHAPTER...SOOO SEND ME QUESTIONS YOU’D LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT THE OC AND JIMIN!! 

LOVE YOU GUYS AS ALWAYS,

ROCKI

[thehappycleaner]

Helloo ha, so having been up again supper dooper early, I am about to finish the day with a hot chocolate, marshmallows & a slab of cake 😋😋.... No pancakes

I can hear my cloths spinning around, getting ready for me to hang them on the airer to dry... One of my daily tasks

Not complaining but it can get a bit like groundhog day 😂😂

So I worked on my own today, something I do from time to time.

Dick Heads still out in force as always, but I always keep my eyes sharp, to think ahead & spot the many, wankie moves drivers do.

My first job today, I love all the quirky items that are in the house.

More people should keep all the old bits & bobs that are full of memories & can take you right back to a certain time in our journey of life.

Some homes lack the character or history of the people who live in them & we spend way to much time, fitting in with the latest trends of decor.

One of the 🐶's come bounding over & instantly rolls over, bell rub time & yes I do have to stop I've come here to clean 😂😂😂

Off in my trance like state, spraying cleaning, making a home look all beat /tidy & fresh again, really satisfying.

House no2, this is a special house to me, when I first started out the couple had a new born, now the new born is 7 & has a younger sibling.

Another amazing part of my job is watching familys grow & seeing the development they all make as a family.

Since Covid-19 I've lost so many clients due to them shielding ect, that I cant wait to see them again, soon I hope 😊😊

Where did them 3hrs go, then before you know it, everything is done & I am off to the next one.

I had time to run some errands, collect some PJ's for an elderly client in hospital with no family & made sure I put some snacks in for her 🙂

My last client a personal friend, so it's a clean & a nice catch up.

Then off to have dinner with my favourite people, who I am so blessed to be part of thire bubble or I think I would have lost the plot a long time ago.

Thank you beautiful for always keeping me grounded, happy & loved

Dinner was great & the conversation as always has us in stitches, even the sensitive & emotional conversations. Once they are done, we will be back to laughing again.

Right cloths are done & thats me signing off.

Stay blessed & kind to each other & I will be back tomorrow 💕💕

[mininky]

Nefarious Intentions

Summary: Life sometimes sucks. You’ve been stuck in that strange world that is adulting, questioning everything about life as you’ve gradually grown harder and harder to everything until one bland date brings you to a small record store and you meet him. Min Yoongi. In his very words, ‘not a good guy’ but he’s just too tempting to ignore. And safe, careful, planner you finds yourself wrapped up in the storm that is Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi X Reader

Genre: Smut, possibly the longest sex scene I have ever written, with bits of introspective romance?? I guess?

Word Count: 15.2K

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (F giving and receiving), spanking, a hell of a lot of dirty talk, and as always from me, plenty of swearing.

A/N: This isn’t complete. You’ve been warned. It doesn’t leave off on like...a cliffhanger or anything, but I’ve had this bad boy sitting around for ages and I’m just too busy to finish any of my projects at the moment but a lovely friend of mine reminded me about this particular bad boy Yoongi fic and I felt that I owed all of y’all who’s stuck around my very long bouts of radio silence a holiday present. Merry Christmas, you filthy animals.

   You can still clearly remember the first time you fell in love. It wasn't anything amazing or special, it wasn't some wonderful whirlwind romance always portrayed in stories and movies. But you can remember the butterflies, the way your skin warmed uncomfortably any time you held hands, the way your breathing grew uneven just from the smallest of hugs or stolen glances. Soft kisses when others weren't looking would send your head into the clouds. You can also remember the heartache, the way it felt as though everything had come crashing down when he moved on and you were stuck trying to pick up the pieces of your life. But you would eventually, and if there's anything that you've learned as you've gotten older it's that love changes entirely. Not just with each partner but also with wisdom. Where you once could talk about the innocence of love now it was sex, marriage, children, careers, half-assed dates, trying to decide if you could see yourself living with that person or if the relationship wasn't going anywhere after just a few months.

   Love used to just be. It just came one day, crept into your heart like a thief in the night but instead of taking anything it just took up space. Ahhh, what a way to live. Youth holds far more innocence than people realize. Growing up is a pain, the world becomes crueler and you start analyzing everything instead of just living. When did that happen? When did love become a strategic game rather than just an effervescent thing swirling around in the depths of your soul? When did you start worrying so much about keeping up with others around you?

   You weren't always all this doom and gloom. In fact, most people will say that on the outside you seem to be a very positive, kind person. A bit of a pushover. Always there to help. Some might say otherwise, that sure you're nice enough but you seem to have a wall up. Is that such a bad thing? Is it bad to want to protect yourself from the inevitable pain of having to move on? If you were to answer honestly, wholeheartedly, you probably started feeling this way a few years ago. After you watched your best friend walk down the aisle. So beautiful. So happy. And you were so fucking alone. Miserably alone. And you felt like a complete bitch for watching such a beautiful moment happen all while thinking selfishly about none other than yourself. And then everyone else moved on. They got married or moved in with their partners. They had children. Your siblings all got married. And then there's you. The forever bachelorette. The workaholic.

   If we remain on the topic of honesty, you aren't even sure you know what love is anymore. You can vaguely recall the innocence of days past. The earnestness of loving simply because you couldn't control it. But you can't describe it. How does one describe love? If you had asked the you of yester-year...fine, yester-decade...you would have said, "It just is. It's there one day and it strings you along for a wild ride and you just try your best as the shotgun driver to help steer this whole thing along." But the older, hopefully, wiser you? Well, now you see love as something more akin to a good game of chess. It's a strategy. A battlefield, a place where good plans should hopefully get you across the way but where other plans can foil you. Fucking Pat Benatar had it right, who would've guessed?

   You glance back up at your date, drawn out of your internal ramblings as the waiter passes by. This guy isn't the worst. He certainly isn't the best. On paper he's got everything going for a good future. He's a doctor, he seems nice enough, he has his own home. For fuck's sake, he even works at a free clinic one weekend a month just to help people. And he's obnoxiously handsome. It's your third date with him. But why is it that you just don't feel a spark with him? Maybe you should sleep with him, see how that pans out. That's one thought. On the other hand whenever a waiter passes by you desperately want to grab the check and run back to your sanctum away from this boring hell.

   "(Y/N?)" You blink back up at Shownu, giving a small awkward smile.

   "Sorry, I guess I didn't get enough sleep last night. I'm a little tired."

   He nods kindly, grabbing a passing waiter and paying the check before he resumes speaking with you. "It's okay, you just looked a little bored. I'm sorry I'm sure that cardiovascular disease is probably a boring topic to most."

   "Oh no, it's fascinating." Lies. It felt like he was trying to read to you from a textbook. "I'm just a bit out of it. I have a new client who's been more than a bit difficult and I've had to work almost around the clock to try to figure out what'll make them happy."

   "What do you do again?" Looks like you aren't the only one snoozing off when the other person's speaking. That's not a good sign.

   "I'm a graphic designer. This client, in particular, is a local coffee shop, they're rebranding themselves but apparently, the two owners are having a hard time agreeing with what direction they want to go in. I'll get a green light from one and a red light from the other and it's been almost a week of this now." You ruffle your hair aggravatedly before stopping. "Sorry, I didn't mean to talk so much about work, I'm sure it's boring."

   "A bit." My god dick, take a hint. You were trying to be polite earlier and here he is just openly calling your work boring. "But that's okay. You've got a lot on your plate. You drove here right?"

   "Yup, I guess I'll talk to you later." Another lie. You have no intention of contacting him again. Even if he is hot and a doctor. Your friends would call you crazy to not be interested in him. But is it so wild to want to enjoy your time with the other partner? When did the world become about saving face and looking good? Was it always this way and you were just ignorant? No. Naive would be a better word for you. You needed to grow thicker skin.

   Shownu doesn't even walk you to your car, not that you're bothered by it. You wanted to escape just as much as he did. Looks like you'll have to keep looking. Or maybe you should give up. Be a spinster. Widdle your days away in your work and be the fun aunt who comes around to steal stop signs and do dumb shit with your nieces and nephews. Yeah, that sounds a lot more like you than some boring marriage. Maybe. Or maybe you're just giving up. You can't tell. Maybe it's just the last glass of wine you had talking.

   You look around before getting in your car, your eyes spotting a small record store across the street. You've lived in the city for ten years, yet you've never seen this tiny little gem before. It's tucked away, a small poorly lit sign simply saying 'records.' It looks so unusual here, in the posher side of town. But ten years ago this place hadn't been gentrified. It's like this one little building is holding out, refusing to conform. Unwilling to yield with the times, refusing to be aesthetically pleasing for some woman who owns a teacup poodle and drinks overpriced syrupy coffee who needs perfectly paved roads and has to speak to the manager. And before you can understand what you're doing you're jaywalking your ass right over to it.

   It's cramped, wall to wall, row after row it's filled with vinyls of all colors. There's a few teenagers looking around, clearly affluent based off of their clothing but rebelling. At least that's what you're assuming based off of the designer clothing mixed with cheap hair dye and piercings. Ah, you remember those days. Except your clothes were hand-me-downs and goodwill finds. Maybe vinyls are cool again. You can remember thinking you were hot shit to finally get a walkman at a garage sale. CD's were already mainstream then but they weren't cheap. The kids at school didn't have pity on you for that. Not that it mattered to you, it felt like you finally had the whole world of music available to you whenever you wanted.

   It feels nostalgic to go through the records. You can remember the way your oldest brother would begrudgingly take you with while he flirted with girls in a different record store. It was the spot, where only the raddest kids hung out. And now here you are almost three decades later in another record store late at night with just a bored employee and two rich kids who think they're hot shit for being in on something that others aren't. Ah, youth.

   One record, in particular, pulls at you. You stop for a moment, thumbing it before gently picking it up. Christ, does wine give you all the yearning for nostalgia or are you just getting old? You'll go with the wine, it's a much more comforting thought than confronting your age right now. You want to hang this up. Remind yourself of who you were. Who you are. You've been losing sight. Maybe. It's hard to tell, life moves too fast the older you get. Or maybe it's that pesky malbec. The fact that you only had two glasses isn't important. You need a scapegoat for tonight. A way to ease this growing uncomfortable feeling in your chest. Like the world is falling apart and moving on and you're stuck somewhere. You aren't sure where. But you do know that you need this. So you march up to the register, the two brats in the shop trailing behind shortly after.

   The boy, no that's definitely a fully grown man, lazily gazes up at you before taking the record and scanning it. You'd call him cute, but his eyes look a bit too hardened for that word. He looks like he's seen some shit and doesn't hide it from the world. Like he's ready for a fight at all times and probably sleeps with one eye open just in case. He'd be the type to survive a zombie apocalypse. "I didn't realize we even had any Atmosphere records. Wow, that takes me back."

   "Ant really was ahead of his time. I mean, don't get me wrong, Slug is a great rapper, but the real key to their music was how Ant produced everything. Their new records are great too, but this one? This one's just a real gem."

   "Hmmm, look at you, corporate hotshot getting her panties in a twist over some nineties backpack rappers." His words drawl lazily, a sardonic smile curling up and showing the gums of his teeth as he places the record in a bag. "The world is full of surprises." You aren't even sure what to say as he hands the bag over to you, standing there with your mouth agape before he nods his head. "You gonna move lady? I've got other people waiting." The teens behind you snicker, and you harden your eyes for just a moment before grabbing the bag and marching out. What a dick. A total dick. Tonight's not your night. Christ, what were you even doing there? You don't even have a record player.

   You don't realize it until you get home twenty minutes later, still fuming as you pull the record out, that he's left behind his phone number on the receipt. "Call me when you're bored, Ms. Corporate." When did the fucker even get the time to do this? The little shit's fast. He didn't even give you his name. Why does that bother you so much? He was a dick. You shouldn't want to know his name. You go to rip up the receipt but for some reason you find yourself tacking it up on the fridge. Maybe you'll save it for a lonely, no scratch that, angry night. Reem his ass out for fun and then you'll tear it up. Yeah sure, that's why you're keeping it.

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

   A week's gone by and you still haven't taken down that stupid receipt from your fridge. You haven't gone back to the shop either. You've been too busy, surviving off of ramen and egg sandwiches while working painfully long hours until you want to tear your hair out. You finally reach some semblance of agreement between the two owners, and you've finally finished working on their project. You got it done faster than anticipated, you just wanted them out of your life. But now you have only small projects in the meanwhile. And that's dangerous. Because free time keeps allowing your brain to wander back to him. If you're Ms. Corporate then he's Mr. Dick. You kind of wonder what his dick looks like, if it's big enough to back up his ego or not. You'd rather die than admit that. Shit, what are you thinking? If you've got time to fuck around then you've got time to pick up some more clients.

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

   You aren't sure how you wound back up here, but suddenly you're back in the same vinyl shop with Mr. Dick behind the counter again. You refuse to acknowledge the inner glee at seeing his face again. You barely even look in his direction, instead, you start rifling through the records before picking out a few more. Once you start digging through you find your brain focusing more on the artwork, on the way how everything comes together, nostalgia blossoming as you thumb through familiar covers. Radiohead, The Roots, Sade, Maxwell. Lord, you can remember your first boyfriend putting Maxwell on while making out with you in the car. You called him an old man, said it was probably what your parents put on to have sex. He was dejected, you thought it was funny but sweet. He didn't see it that way. So it goes.

   You quietly walk up to the counter, a soft smile playing on your face as you carefully place everything before the look on your face is wiped back to a careful blank slate when you see Mr. Dick cocking a half-grin at you. He looks like the type of guy that high school girls used to cream themselves over, they probably still do. The kind that always has a cigarette in hand, definitely used to be a skater, probably has a secret love child on the other side of the country, maybe did some minor time for a couple of DUIs. You almost want to laugh at the way you're trying so hard to picture his life. The poor dude's probably just totally normal, or maybe you hit the nail on the head. What does it matter, he's just some random dick.

   "Ms. Corporate, you're back I see."

   "I am."

   "Always a pleasure to see a pretty gal in here, but especially when it's you." You roll your eyes and he grins at this, you hate the way how your defenses almost momentarily break at just how cute he is when he smiles, really smiles. Here you were trying to figure out if he's done time or not and suddenly you're wanting to pinch his cheek. Christ, you need to get out more. And you don't mean back here either. "I'm a little sad though, you never did give me a call."

   "I never got bored. Besides, what was I even supposed to do? Call you up and go, hey the dick behind the counter at the record store, I'm bored?" He laughs at this, a full belly laugh before he cocks his head to the side.

   "You're an interesting one Ms. Corporate. Here I was trying to figure you out, and you've thrown me for another loop. I wasn't lying though, I was disappointed that I didn't hear from you."

   Your eyes narrow for a moment, trying hard to fight the heat that so desperately wants to rise to your cheeks. "Like I said, I wasn't bored. And I'm not interested in speaking to random nameless douchebags."

   He nods his head, sliding your credit card and humming for a moment before the machine chirps and he hands over your bag and receipt. Before you can turn around he's speaking again, "Yoongi. Min Yoongi." You stare at him for a moment before he continues, "Now I'm not a nameless douche."

   "A named douche doesn't fair any better in my books. I suppose I should've said that first."

   "Fair enough, but at least I don't buy old man sex music in the middle of the night." You can't help but laugh at that, Maxwell really is old man sex music so you can't blame him. In fact, some twisted part of you is elated that he thinks so too. Not that you'd admit that to even yourself.

   "Have a good night, Min Yoongi." He looks startled for a second, he's almost transfixed on the way you laugh. You can't feel his eyes trailing you as you walk out the door, you're far too focused on trying to calm the strangely warm fuzzy feeling trying to take over you to notice.

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

   Life is strange, no matter what age you are things will pop up that you can't explain how exactly it's happened, or why it's happened. The trick to being an adult is looking like you know what the fuck is going on, but the honest truth is no one does. Maybe they think they do, maybe they really do more often than not, but no one does one hundred percent of the time. That's the honest truth. The entirety of humanity is a mass of dumbasses pretending to look like they know what's going on. You are indeed one of those dumbasses, another fish in a large school trying not to be eaten but having no clue what lays beyond the school of fish ninety percent of the time. Your predator goes by the name of Min Yoongi. Perhaps he doesn't even see himself as a predator nor you as prey, but that's exactly how you see it. It's been over a month since you last stepped foot in his workplace. There should be no need to go. You now have five vinyls and still no record player. Most would call them poor financial choices and an odd way to splurge. You've thought about it more than you can count though, going back to see him that is. That stupid fucking receipt is still hanging up on your fridge, and it's taken everything in your willpower to not call him randomly.

   Min Yoongi. You wonder, far too often for your own good, who he is. What he likes, dislikes. What makes him tick. What gets him off. You blame him. It's the way he looks at you. Cold eyes, analyzing you to your very soul. Sneering at you one second, taunting you smugly, before switching to the sweetest smile you've ever seen. You've only seen him twice, no longer than a few minutes at a time. You don't know if you can even say that you've ever had a real conversation with him. He doesn't even know your name. And yet he runs through your thoughts on repeat. You would love to be able to settle on a normal human. A good guy, someone like Shownu. Safe, stable, traditionally handsome, a great career. But your stupid fucking brain feels nothing around a guy like him and then suddenly it sparks and rewires itself around a douche named Min Yoongi who you actually wondered if he did time or not. Life is strange. So it goes.

   It's thoughts like these that are your downfall. Late at night, all alone in bed. Pondering what he's doing, who he's doing. You're sure a deadbeat like him has a slew of girls at his beck and call. He certainly acts like it. But that shouldn't matter to you. After a month of wondering, going back and forth, staring longingly at the fridge, you're picking up your phone and slowly entering in the numbers. One digit takes you nearly thirty seconds, the last time it took you this long to call someone was when you were staying at your grandmother's house using her outdated rotary phone as a child. And here you are, a grown woman, terrified over some dick who works at a record store. Life is strange, you can't help but think as you delete the numbers and enter them back in. Should you, shouldn't you? What's to gain? What's to lose? Life is about strategy, isn't it? Does he offer you anything? Perhaps temporary release is all you need. But can he actually offer that? Maybe. Hopefully. Maybe not. Who knows. It's a risk. Not a calculated one either. In fact, odds are heavily stacked against him. And the adult in you says to not bother. That's what vibrators are for, if all you're looking for is a release. But there's another voice, something longing for this. There's something about him that plays on repeat in your head. Something that stirs up oddly sentimental feelings in you when you think of him. Which is strange, you don't know him. So how can sentimentality be tied to someone you just met? Maybe it's just part of his trade for soon to be old spinsters like you, you guess.

   You take another deep breath, staring at the screen as you sink down to the floor of the kitchen and finally hit the dial button. Shit. Fuck. What are you doing? This isn't like you. You haven't thought out every exit strategy yet. Christ. Oh god. "Hello?" His voice is deeper over the phone. You won't explain how that makes you feel, it's a bit embarrassing honestly.

   "Yoongi?"

   "Ms. Corporate?"

  "...Yes..." That's right, you never told him his name. There's garbled background noise for a minute, you hear him telling someone to shut the fuck up before it's eerily silent for a moment and then you hear a breathy chuckle. And oh god, you are so so so fucking screwed.

   "Holy shit. I didn't think you'd actually call. Just when I thought you forgot all about me you actually call."

   "I was bored." You bite back a smile, head resting on your fridge as you stare up at the ceiling. Jesus, you should dust more often, is that a spiderweb?

   He gives a sing-song laugh, and that strange tipsy feeling in your gut bubbles back up again. You feel oddly nervous, kind of giddy. When's the last time you felt this way? You don't know if you ever did. "Holy Christ. I'm sorry, give me a moment, this just...makes me weirdly happy. Fuck. Shit. -I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO HOME. Sorry, not you Ms. Corporate. Just uh, a friend. He's a dipshit. A bit drunk. Having girlfriend troubles I guess. Dunno why he came to me. I uh...I dunno why I'm telling you this either. Christ. Are you still there?"

   "I'm here." You don't know what to say. Fuck. Why did you call?? It's been nearly thirty seconds and you've already lost all confidence in saying anything. This is why you need a plan, a strategy. When you don't know how to proceed the only option is to deflect. So deflect you shall. "How did you know it was me?"

   "I've answered nearly every unknown number asking if it was you for about six weeks now if I was very honest. Not that you needed to know that." You swear you can hear him give an awkward chuckle. How unexpected. Perhaps staying behind the counter gives him an odd confidence boost. Or maybe he's been drinking just like his friend and is being a bit too honest. You're not sure why, but that doesn't feel like such a bad thing to you. The lack of snark is as startling as it is endearing.

   "Well, I've kept your stupid receipt pinned to my fridge for the last six weeks. Not that you need to know that." You smile at the way he laughs this time, mentally visualizing his gummy smile. Maybe you should have face timed him. But then he'd see you looking like a full damn mess in the middle of the night. You'll just have to imagine what he looks like.

   "You're really cute Ms. Corporate. Really obnoxiously cute for someone who has the strangest taste in music. I mean you went from Atmosphere to Radiohead to Maxwell. I'm sure it branches out even further than that and hopefully to a few other decades. I'm curious."

   "About what? My music tastes?"

   "Well yeah. And a lot of other things about you. Like I said, I've been trying to figure you out. You run around in my thoughts all day lately. That's not fair Ms. Corporate. Not fair at all. At least you can think of me as the douche with the name. But all I've got is Ms. Corporate with weird music tastes."

   "Hmm...."

   "What do you mean hmmm? Isn't this your cue to, oh I don't know, tell me your name?"

    "It's fun this way. Safe. Now I don't have to worry about you looking me up and finding my place and chopping me up into pieces."

   "Pretty sure I would've done that beforehand if that were the case, you know, cover my tracks and not leave my number behind or anything. Come on Ms. Corporate, you're killing me. I want to know if your name is as pretty as your face."

   You give it a moment, relishing silently in the exasperated sighs you hear over the phone, his feet shuffling loudly against pavement before finally, you speak up. "(Y/N). My name's (y/n)."

   "(Y/N)." The way he says your name slowly has tingles running up your spine, your cheeks heating up at the way it almost feels like he's savoring your name. Christ, what is it about this cheeky devil? One second he's captain douche and the next second he's adorable and then suddenly he has your toes curling just from the way he says your name. He has 'bad idea' written all over him in big bold letters and yet here you are, sitting on your kitchen floor grinning like a fool. When's the last time you smiled this much? Shit, that's a depressing thought, let's not think about that. "That's a pretty name. It fits you."

   "You sure do seem to be all compliments tonight. I'm wondering when sir asswipe will come out."

   "I save him for the store. Customer service will do that to you." That's...fair enough. But still. And why does that make you laugh? Why is it that everything just seems so easy with him? "(Y/N)." He pauses for a moment, you hear a lighter clicking in the background before he takes a drag. Well, it looks like you got one thing right, he's a smoker. Ashtray tongue, not that great. You bet he makes it look hot though. "I wanna see you."

   You don't respond, breathing halting for a moment before you hum. You want to see him too, that's the honest truth. You want to get to know him, explore him. Open him up and examine his thoughts, lay in bed and talk for hours, maybe throw on that Maxwell record and see what happens. Wait...what the fuck are you thinking? You can't help but burst out laughing, stopping when you realized that you probably sound absolutely insane and rude. Insanely rude. "Wait, no I wasn't laughing that you want to see me, it's just...I don't know why but that stupid Maxwell album popped into my head." You pause, terrified that he'll be angry or upset or realize that you're a bumbling idiot but instead, he gives a sing-song laugh. God, you want to see his face too.

   "Okay, real talk though, why did you buy old man porn music?"

   "I felt like I had to, I don't know, buy it to repent for my sins?" He's wheezing now, his laughter becoming infectious until you find yourself cracking up with him. Why is it so easy to talk to him?

   "What in the fuck does that even mean?"

   "I feel like at this point, it's better without explaining. But I will anyway. When I was in high school I was dating this dude who broke up with me because I made fun of him for putting on a Maxwell tape when we made out in his car. I told him it was old man sex music, and when you said it when I was checking out it confirmed that while I was right, I owed poor Maxwell my money I guess. I don't know. I'm not making any sense am I?"

   "Kind of? Not really? I get the feeling that I'll always still be wondering a bit with you though. Not that that's a bad thing. You're weird (Y/N), but good weird. I certainly didn't expect this from a corporate hotshot."

   "Why do you keep calling me that?"

   "Well, you look like you work in an office. You don't?"

   "Nope. I own my own business, I'm a graphic designer. But I was on a date the first time I popped in, oh and the second time I popped in I had just finalized some things with a client in person."

   "You...you wore a business suit on a...date? I don't mean to be rude but um...how old exactly are you (Y/N)? Like what era did you come from?"

   "Ah, Monsuire Jerkwad appears again. I'm 30 for your information. Which is an old biddy in my mother's eyes."

   "Whaaaat? I mean I figured from your music choices you were about my age, but wow. Look at that, I'm just one year older than you. I guess that makes me whatever the fuck the male version of an old biddy is. Say though, (Y/N), why for fuck's sake would you wear a business suit on a date? You didn't answer that earlier." Huh. So he's just a year older than you. You thought that he was younger actually. Man, asian really don't raisin. You briefly wonder what his skincare routine is. Or maybe he's one of those bastards that just uses Irish spring soap for everything and still magically looks great with no idea that there's a difference between moisturizer and lotion.

   "Ah...well, I went on the date after meeting with a client. But I mean, it was like a hot librarian suit right?" You can tell by the laughter that you were way off the mark. "Yeah...okay so it was just a normal suit. But whatever, I didn't feel a need to get dressed up for him."

   "What, is the guy a slob or something?"

   "Nah, in fact, it couldn't be further from that. But I dunno I just didn't really jive with him."

   "But you went on a date with him anyway?"

   "I told you Yoongi, I'm an old biddy. I'm drying up over here. Eggs ticking or whatever. At least according to every single family member, even the extended ones I rarely talk to."

   "Being a chick must be rough, I feel like they nag you guys extra hard. But I get it, my folks are always pestering me to get married. Settle down, find a career, have kids. Shit, at this point they don't even care what order it happens. If I came home with some random baby I think they wouldn't even be angry they'd just be like 'finally, little Mins.' It doesn't help that my brother and his wife don't want to try for kids for another couple of years so suddenly all the pressure's on me."  

   "God, I felt that in my soul. Why can't they just let us breathe? It's like my life revolves around finding someone to make my parents happy all of a sudden. I don't even know when that happened. Or how, or why. But it's like, I've gotta keep up with everyone else you know? I feel like somewhere along the line I got left behind."

   "Did you though?" He takes a long drag, and you swear you can practically smell the cigarette through the phone. You bet he's a clove kind of guy, he's too weird to go for menthols. "I mean, did you really get left behind? Life happens for everyone at different times. What's so wrong about that? Trust me, I get the pressure and the nagging and the bullshit. But at the end of the day, this is your life. Live it without regrets. Why settle just because other people tell you that you should? That seems boring as fucking hell."

   Life really is strange. Who would have guessed that some random dick in a random record store you'd never been to before a shitty date would suddenly be the one lifting the burden off your shoulder as if it had never been there? Everyone else was always telling you that it would happen, that the right guy would come along and soon enough you'd be married and having kids and all would be grand. But the honest truth is...that's not what you want. You don't even know if you want kids. And marriage? Man, that just seems like something you don't need in your life right now. When did you get so wrapped up in feeling like you'd been left in the dust that you felt you had to do the exact same things to keep up?

   Somewhere, in the core of your very being, you probably knew right then and there that you were getting into way too deep of territory for someone you had just met. But you had dropped your guard, refused to acknowledge any warning signs. How could you when someone finally was telling you that it was okay to just live? He told you the words that you needed the most without even knowing it. You can feel tears threating to rise but you gulp everything down and instead just give a quiet thanks. You just hear the drag of his cigarette again before he responds with an equally quiet no problem. It feels like the world could stop, right there and then. As if it was just the two of you, frozen in your own separate corners of earth while quietly listening to the static from the phone and all would be well. It felt safe. Dangerously safe.

   "Fuck, I need to charge my phone it's about to-" With that, the call drops and you stare at your phone for a moment. Maybe it was for the best that his phone died, who knows what you would have said to him if you stayed on the phone any longer. You just practically spilled your guts to a virtual stranger from your kitchen floor at one in the morning. And yet, for the first time in a long time, all you can do is stare happily at your phone before finally forcing yourself into bed.

   The next morning you may or may not have squealed like a complete buffoon upon reading the text you missed from him after falling asleep. "Sorry bout that. Next time tho, I wanna see you in person. That way there's no worries about my phone dying." Shit. It's too early for this kind of attack. You'll blame being half-awake for why you responded with just a simple "K." You only have your own neuroticism to blame for your internal freakouts that constantly reoccur over the next few days when you don't hear anything back. Maybe you were a bit too dry. Okay...you most certainly were too dry. Christ, if there's ever been a dead fish version of a text, that would be it. Maybe you should have expected to fumble this badly. Maybe it's a good thing. He didn't seem like the type to really be interested in anything other than playing around. Not that you were expecting anything. Right? Okay...well maybe you did kind of really want to make out with him. Which is strange, because honestly, you can't remember the last time you even thought of wanting to make out with someone. University years maybe? But now's not the time to be thinking about that! Nows the perfect time to throw yourself into work, it's the best scapegoat for avoiding emotions you'd rather not explore.

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

   "Wow, your boredom intervals are quickly decreasing. Do you not have a lot of work right now or?" Jesus what in the fuck are you even thinking, dragging your ass in this stupid fucking store in the middle of the night for a third time. And you still don't have a goddamn record player. God, you pray he never finds that out. He'd probably never stop making fun of you.

   You can't help but shoot a glare in his direction, but your nerves falter the moment you see the shit-eating grin on his face. You swear you can feel your breath hitch in the back of your throat and trap itself. It's suffocating. Blinding. It's not fair. He's so handsome. Dark disheveled hair partially obscuring his coffee-colored eyes, gummy grin, obnoxiously white teeth for a smoker, milky pale skin that's always at stark odds with his typical black t-shirt, veiny hands. This isn't good. This isn't fair. You really want to kiss him.

   "What, cat got your tongue or something Ms. Corporate?" He's leaning across the counter, head cocked as he openly ogles you. It's not fair. You've been a wreck for the last few days, waiting around for some sort of a response and this fucking shrimp is acting like you never spoke. Like nothing changed. Like he didn't tell you he wanted to see you in person. It's probably just your own stupidity or neuroticism peaking through, but when he called you Ms. Corporate it felt like that perfect paradise on the phone was all a mirage. As if it never happened. It's infuriating how he can act so calm. Before you can continue overthinking and turning around in circles you march up to the counter and grip his shirt in your hand, pulling him in for a kiss that he reciprocates unusually quickly. You can feel his tongue slide across your lower lip, asking for entrance when the sound of the door chimes pull you quickly away. Damn these stupid kids buying records in the middle of the night. Don't they have a curfew?? Fucking rich kids trying to be edgy when they should be at home, in bed, not fucking interrupting this not so Hallmark moment.

   "Stop fucking calling me Ms. Corporate, you colossal idiot." You can distantly hear him sending you off with a hoarse 'goodnight.' Everything in you wants to turn around and see what kind of a face he's making. Is he just making fun of you? Is he as hot and bothered as you from a kiss? It felt like electricity ran up your spine like everything was floating for a moment, the world just goes away when you're with him and all that's there is the two of you. Fuck. You like Sargeant fuckface from the record store. And even though you have a feeling that all of this is a terrible idea you can't help but grin to yourself the entire way home. Hey, at least this time you didn't waste more money on records you can't play.

   You aren't sure if it's the place, or Yoongi, or your increasing age that your mother likes to remind you of constantly (not that you'd ever admit that) that makes you feel so nostalgic, so sentimental. But whenever you're around him it hits you hard. When did love lose innocence, when did it stop simply being about selfishly, greedily wanting to learn everything about the other person and staying by their side? When did it grow to be a chore, a thing that you did because it was another step on the ladder of life? And why is it that when you're around him all you can feel is those same simple straightforward feelings? Fuck, you want to kiss him again. His lips were so soft, and you were right, he tasted like Djarum Blacks. You wonder how he got them, you're pretty sure that there's a ban on them now. Ashy, a bit of clove lingering on his lips. Lingering on yours. God, it's almost infuriating how happy that makes you. Almost. But right now, you're too wrapped up in glee to be annoyed. You hope that somehow, someday, you'll manage to wrap him around your finger the way he has you so effortlessly wrapped over his. Not that you're complaining. If you're going to be wrapped around anyone's fingers, you're okay with it being his. Not that you've been staring at them whenever he handed you your bags or anything. Nope. That definitely wasn't the case. Maybe.

   When you get back home you try your hardest to stay busy, but your thoughts keep wandering back. Jesus, you think it would be easier to control your brain. It isn't until your phone clatters off the counter that you realize Yoongi's calling you, and for a moment you squint at the phone before hastily picking it up and answering. Shit wait, act cool. "'Sup Colonel nitwit?" Fuck, wait that wasn't cool. Christ, why are you like this? What are you, a twelve-year-old boy? You should probably seek counseling for your stupidity. Or maybe not, because when you hear that sing-song laughter reverberating through your ears it suddenly makes everything feel okay again.

   "You're something (y/n). A real piece of work. I mean you called me an idiot earlier, no wait, a colossal idiot and now I'm Colonel nitwit?" He laughs again, and once again you find yourself sliding down the fridge onto the floor, blushing as you blink up at the ceiling. Dejavu. "Ah, this is bad. I should have texted you. Hearing your voice makes me want to see you in person."

   "Foul. Out of bounds. That's not fair play. You aren't allowed to say things that cute."

   "You fouled first, who just marches up to someone and kisses them at their place of work?"

   "It's not like anyone else was there." You're glad he isn't here to see your face, you're already grinning like a fool and you have a feeling that he'd tease you mercilessly if he could see you right now.

   "Until those damn brats showed up." Ah, it makes you painfully happy that he was just as annoyed as you were. "I don't know what it is about you, but you just run around my thoughts all damn day."

   "So why didn't you ever text me back?"

   "AH! About that, I realized after I hung up that you said you were out on a date that first time and I suddenly started feeling like a homewrecker. I mean, I know you said that you didn't seem interested in him or maybe that was me just hoping I heard that I dunno everything feels kind of fuzzy now. My memories are hazy I just-"

   "It was just a date, not a boyfriend. I'm not the type to talk to others when I'm sincerely dating. Although I'm also not the type to call up guys who leave me their numbers on receipts. I guess the world is full of surprises."

   "God, this is really bad, I really wanna see your face. And you can't tell me that this isn't fair play when you basically just called me special."

   "I'm sorry, but what language were you thinking I was speaking that that's what you came up with? Because I'm pretty sure I didn't come close to saying that."

   "No no, it was totally there. In the subtext. It's all about the subtext you know. I mean you said that you aren't the type to call guys who give you their number on a receipt and yet you still called me. That makes me special."

   "Bwa-what's with that. You dork. Shit, now I wanna see your face."

   "Where are you? I'll come over to you."

   "I'm at my home. Scary. Maybe you are a serial killer and that's really your goal. You know, to chop me up in little pieces or some weird shit."

   "Wanna take the risk?"

   "Kind of."

   "Only kind of??? What's with that lukewarm response? I'm clearly not a serial killer. But I won't act like I don't have nefarious intentions." You can hear the clicking of the lighter, and you can't help but take a deep inhale at the same time as him. God, you bet he looks hot smoking. Wait no, smoking is bad. Very very bad. "Where'd your thoughts go right now, (y/n)?" It's not fair. He has you wrapped around his finger. You want to see him, you want to inhale his scent, run your fingers through his hair, taste him, touch him, fuck him. Fuck. When's the last time a guy got you this hot and bothered from merely existing? Has this ever actually happened? You aren't sure.

   "I'm curious, describe these nefarious intentions please."

   There's a pause, another drag of his cigarette. "Alright, I'll start with the less deviant things. I can't get the feeling of your lips outta my head. I want to kiss you, hold you, touch you. It's weird, I'm not normally the type for soft fluffy things. But the world is strange, as you said. You do weird things to my brain (y/n). You run around my thoughts night and day. When the door chimes at work I turn into Pavlov's dog and hope it's you." There's another long pause, for a moment all you hear is the thudding of your heart rushing into your eardrums and the soft staccato of static coming from your phone.

   "Those don't seem very nefarious to me."

   "Interesting, so you DO want to hear my deviant thoughts."

   "Well, calling your intentions nefarious is a rather interesting way of putting it. It makes it sound more sinister and less...I dunno...sexual? And then when you explained it all seemed rather, I don't know...innocent I guess."

   "That's because I don't wanna scare you off, Ms. Corporate."

   "Again with that stupid name?"

   "I wanna fuck you." Shit, you weren't expecting him to be that straightforward, especially after he seemed to be beating around the bush earlier. And why are you now a mix of happy and horny? That's a new mix for you. "I want to see what kind of faces you make when you cum. I want to taste you. I want to see you under me, on top of me, I want to hear you beg, I want to hear you scream my name. I want to ruin you until all you can think of is me. Until all that satisfies you is me, because right now all I can think of is you. All I want is you. And it doesn't feel fair to not see you in that same boat. So what do you say, (y/n)? Do you still want to see me tonight?"

   You want to tell him that you're also in the same boat, that really the two of you have been going in circles with the same thoughts for probably just as long. Both of you are so greedy, wanting and thinking of nothing but ruining the other. But ruin seems an unfair word, it seems to scratch only the surface. The honest truth is that you just wholeheartedly want the other person, you want them under your thumb to declare them yours. Maybe. It's strange. You were always the kind of girl to take things slow. You never did one night stands, you never had fuck buddies or booty calls or anything even close to resembling that. Sex was always something that came far later in a relationship. But this? You aren't even sure what it is. You can't exactly say he's a friend, you don't really know him. You can't say that you aren't on the way to becoming lovers, but then again he might be thinking of things from a strictly physical standpoint. You aren't sure. Maybe you should ask. Someday perhaps. If you were frank though all of this excites you. Fascinates you. Terrifies you ever so slightly. But all you can think of at this moment is that it elates you to no end that he wants you just as much as you want him. How absolutely greedy. "I do. I probably shouldn't, but I do."

   "Yeah," the dark chuckle on the other line brings heat up to your face, your breath catching in your throat. He suffocates you even with the simplest of things, even with a laugh. "Yeah, you probably shouldn't. You strike me as a good girl. The type to always please others before pleasing herself. The type to not rebel. I don't know why, but I feel I should at least tell you this. I'm not a good guy, I'm not the guy you take home to your parents or the kind of dude you can gush about to all of your friends. But I am at least confident that I can give you a reprieve. It's gotta be stressful, being good all the time constantly working for others, constantly pleasing others. But who tries to please you, understand you, allows you to just be selfish every once in a while? I can be that for you. I want to be that for you. Which is really weird because I usually hate when chicks want that from me. And here I am offering myself up on a silver platter to you. Man, the guys would think I've gone crazy if I told them this. I don't even get it, but there's just something about you that makes me feel...I dunno something."

   It's strange, how little he knows you and yet he says the things you need to hear the most. When is the last time you did something simply because you wanted to before he stumbled into your life? Did you ever? Here you were hot and bothered before and now you want to cry big fat ugly happy tears. Yoongi gives you emotional whiplash with just a few words. It's not fair. "I want to see you. Tonight."

   "Okay." Another drag, another chuckle. "Okay, then send me your address."

   You fumble with the phone, texting the address over to him quickly, your heart jumping out of your throat the entire time. The anticipation has your heart soaring and nerves dropping deep into your belly, you're a mess of a multitude of emotions all at the same time.

   "Wow, would you look at that. You're only about ten minutes away from me. I'll be over soon." Before you can respond he hangs up, and you're left staring at the ceiling wondering momentarily what you've just gotten yourself into before you're scrambling off the kitchen floor and into your bedroom. Shit, shit. You don't have much time. The house is presentable, barely. Whatever. It'll have to do. You brush your teeth, comb out your hair quickly, and do a quick once over. He'll have to just deal with your bare face, but hey at least you shaved in the bath earlier. The doorbell chimes right as you throw an oversized sweater over one of your nicer lace bras you quickly changed into. You nearly knock into every door and corner on your way to the front door, slipping slightly at the entrance before taking a deep breath and opening it.

   He's painfully good looking, but his trademark blase pokerface has you ever so slightly annoyed. Here you were rushing about, a bundle of nerves and energy, and he looks remarkably indifferent to everything. As if he didn't just tell you that he has, and you quote, nefarious intentions. But that thought runs right out the door the moment he narrows his eyes on you and gives you one of his award-winning gummy grins. You're so fucked. You're such a sucker for him already. "You okay?"

   "What, yeah, why wouldn't I be?" You open the door wider, motioning him to come in before shutting the door gently behind him.

   "Because you look nervous. Relax, I'm not here to eat you. Eat you out, maybe. If that's what you want. I'm only here to give you whatever you want." He narrows his eyes on you again, his gaze sweeping over you before looking directly at you. It feels like he can see right through you, right down to your very soul. It's comforting, terrifying, it's like everything that comes with him is a euphoric blend of polar opposites leaving you to drown somewhere in the in-between. He makes you feel like you're in the eye of the storm but precariously close to being tossed into the chaos raging all around you.

   "I hate to say this, but that sounds almost too good to be true. What's in it for you?" You tilt your head, analyzing him as you lean back against the door while trying to feign nonchalance.

   "You. And oddly enough, for once that's enough for me." He shrugs at this comment, although his eyes narrow a bit as if even he can't even believe that he just admitted this.

   "What if I said I didn't want more? Or what if I said that I wanted no strings attached if there is more? Or if I said-"

   "-I want strings attached. No, I need strings attached." You can't help but blink owlishly back at him as you try to digest this information. You pegged him for a wham-bam-thank you ma'am but I'm never calling you again type of man. "Call me crazy, I mean this is totally out of my typical wheelhouse but I realized that I was jealous when you said you were on a date right before you first came into the shop. If we're going to do this I want strings attached. Call it whatever you want, but whatever this is it's just me and you babe. No one else."

   "No one else on either side?" Greedy, selfish, but fair. You're over the moon that for whatever reason he's just the same as you. At least, when it comes to this situation. God, you want him. All of him. You want to sink deeper into this, drown yourself in him, lose yourself in all that he has to offer you. That's dangerous. But you don't care, you're already too far gone. You can feel your stomach tighten, mind halting as he stalks closer to you, his breath hot on your ear as one hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

   "No one else on either side." His eyes travel down from your eyes to your lips before slowly wandering back up. God, you just want him to kiss you already.

   "Deal." Why do you feel like you might have just made a pact with the devil? And why is it that you still really don't care, as long as it means you get to finally taste him again. Fucking hell, you're pretty sure all of your sanity flies right out the window when he's involved. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips, just a few centimeters away from your own. So close, so close. It's like time has stilled. As if the world has fallen away and yet again all that's left is the two of you. Falling, falling. Sinking. Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. Into a chasm of euphoric insanity of pleasure.

   Slowly, painfully slowly, you move your hand to his cheek the other hand winding up the firm planes of his chest. That surprises you, you thought he'd be more delicate. He certainly seems delicately built at first glance, but looks can be deceiving. His eyes never leave your own, his sights set squarely on you. Refusing to look away. Refusing to run. A deal has been made with the devil, and the devil is letting you know you aren't about to leave his crosshairs. "Kiss me, Yoongi." That signature lazy half-smile of his appears for just a fraction before his lips are on yours. He's spicy, ashy. That damn clove has your toes curling, sighing, melting into his touch. Fucking hell. You're already wet, thighs trembling, hands curling his shirt into a ball, as he licks into your mouth.

   The beat of your heart sounds painfully loud in your eardrums. Every sound is fuzzy, staticky as if you're still on the phone. Your own groans almost sound distant, his sighs sound so soft. So content. It feels like the two of you have been dunked in molasses. Time has slowed down for both of you. Moving so slowly, tenderly. Almost as if you're starstruck lovers who have just one night to cherish each other. As if you've known each other's bodies forever but have never been allowed to explore them. It feels like a fragile spell, moving too quickly might break the magic and the devil will run home with his nefarious intentions long forgotten. His hand grips tighter for a moment before wandering down, palming and massaging your ass before picking up your legs and wrapping them around his waist. He takes the small change in stature to detach from your lips, both of you watching with glossy eyes as a thing string of saliva breaks. "You're beautiful (y/n)." A hoarse whisper, kind words from a man with a crass mouth. It makes you want to be feral, it makes you want to slow down. It makes you want everything. Nothing but him. He drives you to the brink of insanity with all these diametrically opposing wants and needs.

   A long low moan tumbles out of your lips at the feeling of his tongue gliding across the prominent vein of your neck before sinking his lips down. Soft petals of pinks and red appear in his wake, a trail of cherry blossoms in spring-time painted on your skin leading up to your ear before his teeth gently press down on your lobe. Shit. That feels way too good. Toes curling, fingers wrapping into his hair and his tongue tangles skillfully around your ear until suddenly he's off, his eyes boring back into your own as your breathing tries to slow back down. "Tell me what you want, (y/n). What do you want from me?"

   If any other man would have asked you that, with such a knife-sharp gaze, you surely would have clammed up. You've never been the vocal type. But you're too far lost in his eyes to care. There's a part of you that desperately hopes your own wants will please him, that he'll sink deeper with you into this chasm of pleasure with you. "I want to suck you off."

   The admission seems to catch him off guard for a moment, there's almost an innocence to the way he blinks back at you but that's gone quickly enough that you almost imagine if you really saw it or not. Replaced by a wolfish grin, desire bubbling across his features, infecting your skin, your core. As if the madness is catching. "Well well well. Who knew little Ms. Corporate had that in her? I can't say the idea of you on your knees hasn't been in my mind before. I also can't lie and say that it isn't one of the most exquisite things I've ever thought of. But I thought I told you that this was about you? About your pleasure? Are you sure that's what you want?" Your brain processes his words slowly, you're far too focused on his growing erection pressing against your inner thigh to think clearly and quickly.

   "I told you, Yoongi. I want you. I want you to lose yourself just as much as me." That's right, you want to watch him fall into pleasure just as you have. You want this madness, this desire, this sin to grip him tightly just as it has gripped you. You're greedy that way. And right now the greatest satisfaction you could receive is seeing him out of control, and you in it. You might be on your knees for him, but he'll be under your spell.

   You unlatch your legs slowly, trembling slightly as you lace your fingers through his and pull him along to your bedroom silently. All you can hear is the hum of the A/C and the sound of your shallow breathing when you push through the bedroom door and lead him to the edge of the bed. Before you can move, his hands are quickly pulling off your sweater and tugging down your leggings until you're left in just your underwear. "I'm not about to have you finally blow me and you're still dressed." His fingers gracefully move around your back, unlatching your bra and tossing it behind you. It's feverish, the look he sends you. All you can think of is that you want more. You want to see him look at you like that all day. As if you're the only woman he wants. As if he needs you. You can't even respond, too lost in the way he looks at you like he wants to devour you whole. So instead you move forward a step, tugging his t-shirt over his head and staring for a second at his bare skin.

   He has those skinny boy abs, the kind that you always felt weren't fair because it comes naturally from stupid fast metabolisms and not hard work. But you aren't going to complain right now, not when he looks so good and he's yours. All yours. Whatever this is, he made a deal, no one else. You can be as greedy as you want because he's just the same. You sink down onto your knees, your eyes locking onto his as you unbuckle his belt and toss it off to the side. You aren't sure if it's just your hopeful imagination or if you really do hear his breath catch in his throat as you slowly unzip his jeans before letting them fall to the floor. He's a briefs kind of guy, thank god. You've always hated how boxers look on men. He takes a moment to shuffle out of his pants completely before prying off his tight black briefs, and your mouth instinctively waters at the sight.

   He's thick, veiny, and you're happy to report that he keeps everything well-groomed. Thank god, no pubes will be stuck in your teeth tonight. Heat rises up to your cheeks at the way he looks at you with carnal anticipation. Suddenly you aren't so sure about all your earlier internal bravado about being the one to make him sink deeper into pleasure with you. He's looking at you like a predator stalking his prey. As if a meal has just presented itself to him on a silver platter. But you'll change that, you want nothing more than to watch that mask fall off. You want him to break. To fall. To tremble underneath your touch the way you shake with anticipation and euphoria under his watchful gaze.

   It's with an unwavering determination that you finally grasp his dick in your hand, staring up at him as you pepper soft kisses around his tip. He's salty, tangy, drooling with precum. Delicious. Sinful. Perfect. You refuse to move your gaze off of his eyes, you want to watch him. You want to see how he falls apart. It only takes one long lick from the base to the tip to start seeing the signs, the way his Adam's apple bobs and his gaze clouds over ever so slightly. It's minute, but it's there. God, you want him. More than you've ever wanted another person. Greedily, in hopes of breaking him, you pull him into your mouth. Inch by inch, until your nose is pressed firmly against his dark patch of hair and his hand is fast to wrap around your hair and grips you tightly until a slight sting can be felt in your scalp. You didn't know you were into that, but the sensation leaves your core throbbing. Aching. Shit. You pull back up, licking around the tip with one hand jerking in slow steady motions as the other one holds his balls in your palm. Rolling them gently until you finally dive back down. There's a dull ache in your jaw already, and you have to steady your breathing to take him whole. He's just long enough to reach past your uvula and activate your gag reflex if you aren't careful. But the way his thighs flex and the guttural groans you hear are enough to have you wanting more. It's beautiful, the way he unravels. Just for you. Only you. You made a deal with the devil after all.

   "Holy fuck, you're good at this." His head is tilted back, the veins on free arm popping as it curls into a fist. You can see a thin veil of sweat covering his chest and his breathing sounds uneven, small groans and grunts breaking the rhythm. It spurs you on, moaning slightly at the way his dick pulses and throbs in your mouth. "God, (y/n). You're too fucking hot. It's not fair, shit, how someone can look that good. You look like you were made to be on your knees, fuck. God, you don't even know how much I've thought about this. I've been like a goddamn high school kid, jerking off to the thought of you every night." You finally close your eyes, concentrating harder on his words and his dick. Shit, have you ever had a guy be this vocal before? It's such a turnon. God, you want him. You want him so badly you feel like you could burst. It's not fair, how even when he starts falling apart, his composure finally going out the window, you're just a bigger mess. Both mentally and physically. You feel like you could wring a gallon out of your panties, your thighs are already drenched. You can't remember the last time you were this wet. Have you ever been this wet? Fuck, what is Yoongi doing to you?

    His thighs tremble and flex in spasms, his groans increasing and you open your eyes back up to see his sight's back on you. He looks so fucked out, hair a mess and cheeks flushed. You wish you could take a picture of this. No man should be this pretty, it almost isn't fair. You can't help but moan as his hand yanks your head further down before his grip relaxes. "Shit, shit, sorry, but I'm going to, fuck, cum. So if you don't want it-" You manage to silence him by putting his hand back on your head and slacking your jaw. A silent permission to use it as he wants. He understands your nonverbal command instantly. He gives a dark chuckle as he shakes his head. "Fuck. You really are too good to me, (y/n)." He doesn't waste time, nor is he gentle. You aren't sure if he's too far gone to think about your gag reflex or if he doesn't care, but it would be a lie to say that it doesn't turn you on. The way he uses you, the way he loses himself in thoughts of nothing but the pleasure your mouth can bring him. It isn't long before he's unraveling, groans turn into the most beautiful moans you've ever heard. Husky, deep, feral. And then you finally taste it, thick sticky white ropes of his salty, tangy cum. He stills for a moment, groaning as he softens inside of you before pulling out slowly, watching intently as he smears cum across your lips. "Be a good girl and swallow for me."

   You blink up at him, pausing for a moment before pursing your lips and swallowing everything back as his thumb swipes the remnants from your lips before forcing it inside. This time you really can hear the hitch in his breath as your tongue swirls around the pad of his thumb before swallowing back again and opening your mouth up as if to show that all is clean. There's a dark chuckle from him, but the look in his eyes doesn't reflect that sentiment. He's looking at you fondly, warmly. As if you didn't just perform one of the lewdest acts of your life for him simply because it made you melt when he called you a good girl. "Well would you look at that, you really cleaned up, didn't you?" His words give you a thought, and you reach out impulsively to follow through with it. Your lips latch onto his now softening cock, licking gently, slowly so as to not overstimulate what's now very sensitive skin as you clean off every last drop. You can feel Yoongi squirm, his hands are quick to grab your hair again and pull you up to your feet with a force that has you moaning. He's certainly stronger than he looks. "Jesus Christ, you're going to be the fucking death of me."

   Before you can even think of responding his lips are on yours. Distantly, somewhere in your sex addled thoughts, you can feel some sick sense of euphoria at the thought of him tasting his own release on your tongue. He's so different from any other man you've ever had. When had sex stopped being fun and became a chore to keep your partner satisfied? You can't remember the last time you felt this much pleasure, this much satisfaction. And you haven't even been touched yet. Shit. You're in for a wild ride with Min Yoongi. "You know, for normally being a mouthy little thing you haven't said very much." You blink up at him, confused at the loss of contact with his mouth, instinctually seeking the warmth of his skin as you curl up closer to him for a moment. Truth be told you've never been very vocal. You aren't sure what to say, where to start. But you don't want to say that and get laughed at by him, or worse yet, called a prude. But then he shoots you that look, the one that feels like he can see straight to your soul and suddenly you're talking.

   "I've never been very vocal. It's embarrassing." You look away as you speak, your cheeks heating up at your admission. You wait for the laughter, for the teasing, but instead, all you feel is his hand cupping your chin and forcing you to look at him.

   "What's so embarrassing about having your partner know what you want? What you like? I want to please you, I want to watch you fall apart. I mean for christ's sake you just licked my cum off my dick without a second thought. As if it was the most natural thing in the world for you. It was the hottest goddamn thing I've ever seen. I want to make sure that you feel just as much pleasure. So tell me, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to eat you out? Finger you? Fuck you? How do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to ride me, do you want me to take you from behind, do you want me to take your ass, or fuck you raw? What exactly do you want?" His free hand ghosts over your body as he holds your face firmly in place. You can't look away, even if you wanted to. It's like he's put you under a spell. Fuck. God, you want him. More than you want anything else. If you were locked in a room with this man for an entire day you'd use every single second to explore his body, to have him explore yours.

   "I want you to eat me out." You're rewarded with a Cheshire cat grin, he looks like a villain who's just been handed the world. And suddenly your thoughts are running back to what he said on the phone. *'I'm not a good guy.'* God, why does that have you so hot and bothered all of sudden? It's like he was put on this earth just to wreck you.

   "Good girl, was that so hard?" Before you can respond he's pushing you onto the bed and prying your underwear off. "Jesus Christ, I don't think I've ever seen panties that wrecked before. Seems little Ms. Corporate enjoys being on her knees. Not that I'm complaining, I consider it an honor to see you enjoy something so filthy with me." You pull yourself up a bit on your arms to see him better, and you tighten at the sight of him prying your legs apart. He's looking at you like you're a delicacy, the finest meal that's ever been presented and he's a starving man. "Do you like that, do you like when I talk to you like this?"

   God, more than you ever thought you would. "Yeah." He chuckles, blinking up at you and shaking his head before hooking your legs over his shoulders and dragging you to the edge of the bed.

   "Another lukewarm response. Maybe I should just stop." He's teasing you, at least you're hoping he is. Because he's so close now, you can feel the warmth of his breath on your clit. But he isn't moving, he's just staying there. His eyes locked on yours as if waiting for more. Christ. He's waiting for you to respond. And you can tell by the amused look on his face that he could wait all night if need be.

   "I..." You pause, take a deep breath and close your eyes. It's too hard to say it while he's looking at you like that. "It turns me on when you tell me things like that."

   "Things like what?" Son of a motherfucker, he's really not going to let you off the hook. He's enjoying this way too much. Fucking sadistic little shit. But the annoyance has you riled up enough to be defiant, to say it.

   "I like it when you call me a good girl. I like it when you call me filthy. I like it when you praise me. I like it when you tell me what you want to do to me. It makes me feel wanted." You almost want to cry, it makes you feel so vulnerable to admit this to him. It's strange, how just moments ago you were so confident and now you suddenly feel so unsure. But when you finally open your eyes back up the look he's giving you makes everything feel alright. Like it's safe. It's safe to be honest with him. To be vulnerable. As if he'll protect you, hold you. You don't know if he actually will, but when he looks at you so tenderly, so lovingly, it's impossible to think that he won't. But it's the smile he gives you, all gums and pearly whites, that make it worth it. Christ, you're flying a million miles an hour on this emotional rollercoaster.

   "What a good girl. You are wanted, so wanted it's terrifying." Before you can even think about the meaning behind his words, the subtext in the empty spaces, his mouth is latched onto your clit. The sensation brings a jolt of electricity up your spine, your legs latching around his face as a long garbled moan drags out of your mouth. Shit, when's the last time you were touched like this?

   "Holy fuck." You can feel him smile, and the low chuckle he gives you reverberates through your body. You aren't sure what to focus on, the tantalizing image of his face buried in your wet heat or the sensation of his tongue as it moves in hungry circles around your clit. Just as you grow used to the dizzying, tingling feeling of his mouth you feel one finger slowly ease its way inside of you. It's odd, how frenzied his mouth is, but how gentle his fingers are. It's easy to sink into this feeling, to relax under his touch. God, he's good. Just as he works in a second finger you can feel yourself unraveling. "Oh my god, don't stop. Please, please don't stop." You've never cum this fast before, but the release is imminent. So close. Maybe it's because you've been so aroused for so long that even the slightest of touches turn you into a mess. You're just over the horizon, legs trembling around him and toes curling as needy whines leave your lips. His tongue moves faster, fingers scissoring into you until all you can see is blinding white. It's almost an out of body experience, everything feels too intense to process. Your body writhing under Yoongi, trying to fight his hold around your legs as your hips lift up and your moans tumble out one after another. It's blinding. Brilliant. It makes you feel whole again. As if all is right with the world when you're here underneath him. But maybe that's just your delirious post-orgasm brain talking.

   Somewhere, it almost feels like it's on another planet, you can hear Yoongi cooing, smiling as he looks down at you with your essence still smeared across his face and fingers still lodged deep inside your pussy. "What a good girl. Do you want to taste yourself?"

   You blink back up, still slightly out of sorts as you nod slowly before finally managing to say, "Yes, please." If you were more coherent you would have probably lost consciousness at the look Yoongi gives, drenched in desire. His nefarious intentions are written on his face. The epitome of deviancy. Sin incarnate. It feels so empty when his fingers pull out with a pop, and both of you watch with rapt attention as he pulls his fingers apart and watches the strings of your release break. God, you always thought he had beautiful fingers but it should be illegal for them to look that good while covered in your essence. You lean up on your forearms, opening your mouth and watching as his fingers slowly enter your mouth. You'd do this a thousand times if it meant getting to see that look on Yoongi's face, the way he watches you with complete and utter satisfaction. As if the only thing in the world he wants to see is you at your lewdest. The guttural groan that leaves his mouth sends waves of pleasure through you as his fingers leave your mouth with a pop.

   "Jesus, you really are going to be the death of me. Or that pretty little mouth of yours will be."

   "At least you'll die happy." You shrug, laughing at the glare he shoots you before giving you a gummy smile. It's odd how comfortable it is to be around him. As if everything is right with the world and the two of you aren't in the middle of outright debauchery that involves you consuming a hell of a lot of cum. It shouldn't be legal for him to give you such a warm and fuzzy smile.

   "Nah, I won't die happy until I've fucked you." He really is the king at giving you emotional whiplash. At this admission you look down to see that he's hard again, leaking precum once more. You've never thought a dick was pretty before, but his is. A dusty shade of pink, thick, twitching in the air with need. You can feel your own core pulse with need as you look at him. Fuck, you want him. More than you've ever wanted anything. Who knew you'd still be this greedy, this needy, after already achieving what was arguably the best orgasm of your life.

   "Then fuck me." The words come out of your mouth in a low timbre, each syllable dripping with want. Yoongi doesn't verbally respond for once, instead, he just repositions you, gently leaning your head against the pillow as he shuffles your thighs over his hips. You can feel the velvety soft tip of his cock tap against your clit, and the soft sensation has you sighing underneath him.

   "Are you sure that's what you really want babe?"

   "I want you to fuck me, Min Yoongi. Please, fuck me." For a moment he pauses, his Adam's apple bobbing. You swear that for a half-second he almost looks like he's contemplating everything as if he's questioning the validity of the situation before he's spitting into his palm and wetting his dick.

   "I won't be gentle. That's not in my vocabulary."

   "I don't want you to be gentle. I want you to fuck me, make me see stars." You reach out to touch his cheek, your hand wandering down his chest for a moment before gripping his dick in your own hand and guiding it to your greedy entrance. He watches for a second before taking over, snapping his hips into yours and sliding in all the way in one go. The burn is tantalizing, the stretch leaves you feeling utterly full and before you can even think of relaxing fully into it he's snapping his hips again.

   "Well Ms. Corporate, you can't say I didn't warn you. I want to see you beg, cry, scream my name. I want to see you fall apart on my cock, over and over again tonight." He emphasizes by picking up pace, his hips smacking against your skin with loud thwacks. It's disorienting, tantalizing, the way he fucks into you. Each time he's fully inside you you can almost touch the stars. You swear his dick is made of magic, the way it takes you out of your own overgrown thoughts and into the present. All you can think of is him, of the pleasure he brings you. It's like your nerves are on fire, it's almost pathetic how quickly you melt underneath him. Teeth clacking, his name spilling out in a broken mantra of whines and moans. Thank god he said he wanted strings attached because all you can think of is that once won't be enough with him. Shit, you're pretty sure you could fuck him every day and you'd still want more. So greedy, so needy. Just for him. Only for him. The devil has you in his crosshairs, but you don't want to leave. "Look at you, already falling apart." Such crass praise. You can feel yourself pulse around him at his words, and the moan that leaves him has your back arching. You wish you could turn his moans into a song, you'd play it on repeat. Such a beautifully filthy sound.

   You can feel another release looming over you when he picks your hips up and fucks into you harder. Christ, how does he have the stamina for this? Not that you're complaining. "Yoongi I'm going to, fuuuuck, right there, keep going, right, fuck!" Somehow he seems to understand your garbled incoherent rambling, because he grins down as he fucks into you harder, pulling you into a heated kiss that you try hard to reciprocate in between broken moans. It's electric. It burns you up from the inside out. It raises goosebumps across your flesh and has your eyes rolling the back of your head as you writhe around him. If Yoongi wanted to ruin you then he's already won. You're positive that sex will never feel this good with anyone else. He slows down for just a moment, fucking into you shallowly as you try to get your breathing back to normal. It's hard to do anything though, you feel like you're floating on a cloud. As if your consciousness is only barely connected to your physical body.

   "You still with me, babe?" You can't even look up at him, it takes a painful amount of effort to just nod. You can hear his own groans and grunts better with your eyes closed. What a sinful symphony, skin against skin, mewls of pleasure from two lovers, or at the very least strings attached deal makers, lost in the throes of passion. He twists you underneath him until you're on all fours, shakey legs barely keeping you up and arms failing as your face plants into the pillow and your ass hangs in the air. He gives one test swat to your ass, and your scream of satisfaction and clenching pussy must be the answer to his unsaid question because his hand comes down harder this time. Surely leaving a pink park in its wake, and before you can process a third loud smack rings through the air. Jesus christ mother mary, you could drown a man right now with how wet he has you. Before you can even say anything he's fucking into you again, taking you from behind as his hands twist into your hair and pull you up until your back is flush to his chest. The sting in your scalp has you clenching around him, you're a mewling drooling mess at this point. And you're too far gone to care, euphoria is the only thought on your mind.

   "You've been such a good girl for me. Do you think  you can cum again, do you want to cum all over my cock for me?" A stuttered yes hangs in the air for just a moment before his mouth latches onto your neck and his hand leaves your hair to tug at one taught nipple while the other dives lower until it's rubbing circles around your clit. Yoongi isn't the only one who would die happy after this, but you can't seem to get the words out. Shit, you can't seem to get any words out. It's taking everything in you to just breathe at this point. Every sensation is too much for you to handle, you're far too sensitive after your last orgasm but you're greedy. You want more. You want to please, you want nothing more than to be good for him. Especially if that means that you'll find only the greatest of pleasures in the process. This third and final orgasm has you spasming, bucking against his chest as broken cries wail out in unison with his own sweet groans of pleasure. God, you wish you weren't in this position, you wish you could keep your eyes open. You wanted to see his face when he came, but then again, there'll be a next time. Won't there? All yours after all. Greedy. You never thought you'd be this greedy.

   You can still feel him bucking into you shallowly before finally moving you back onto a pillow and pulling out carefully. You can feel exhaustion seeping deep into your bones. It takes more effort than you want to admit just to roll over and look up at Yoongi, but it's worth the exertion to see his face. His pale skin is flushed to a pretty petal pink and shining with a thin sheen of perspiration, damp hair sticking to his forehead and his eyes are glazed over in a state of numb content. Handsome doesn't really fit him, he's more pretty you would say. Beautiful really. But you won't say that. You figure most dudes wouldn't take too kindly to being called something so feminine.  So instead you just watch him quietly, drink in the sight of him as he ruffles his hair and shuffles over to your bathroom to clean up. He has a surprisingly nice ass. Christ, you really do like everything about him.

   "Do you have any baby wipes?" His voice sounds hoarse, and a part of you wants to get up and grab a cup of water for him but you're too tired to move.

   "Yeah, in the cupboard closest to the toilet I think I should have some." You hear him rummaging around before he comes out with one wipe and silently cleans you up. It feels oddly domestic, and somehow that makes you feel more awkward than when you were having sex. Christ, you've never been good at these kinds of things. But when you look at Yoongi, the way he just hums to himself as he wipes away any last remnants that have trickled onto your thighs, it's hard to not have your heart melt. He's like the human form of catnip for you, everything feels upside down and yet strangely addictive with him around. "Thanks. Are you going to spend the night?"

   He pauses for a moment, his movements halting and his eyes not meeting your own. That's okay, you're used to this. You shouldn't have gotten your hopes up. "If you're okay with that, that would be nice. But I tend to sleep late, I don't want to bother you if you have to get up early."

   Well, that certainly wasn't what you were expecting. You can't help but blink up at him, words failing before manic uncontrollable giggles come tumbling out of you. You finally manage to stop long enough to wipe some stray tears out of the corner of your eyes before finally responding. "Nah, I set my own hours, we're good."

   You watched him take you in curiously, a small flicker of a smile ghosting his lips before he turned around to rummage through his jeans and grab a lighter and cigarette, about to light up before he turns around and raises an eyebrow, a silent question.

   "Go ahead, but I don't have any ashtrays so you can use a cup or something." You point to the empty water cup by your bed before slipping under the covers, watching him take a deep drag and shut his eyes. The silence would probably feel unbearable with anyone else, but for some reason, it's soothing with him. You have absolutely no clue what you've gotten yourself into with him. Strings firmly attached to whatever the fuck this is, as per his rules. And yours too. You did agree. You want to break this all down, pick it apart and analyze this entire rendezvous piece by piece to make sense of it. You've never been this type of girl before. Impulsive, brash, hedonistic, quick. That's the only way you can describe this. No you were always slow to act, but quick to think until Min Yoongi snarked his way into your heart. And yet it feels so right. Shit. What does that mean? You wish you could think about this more, but the moment you feel his long fingers brushing your hair soothingly you're lulled into sleep.

   That night you dream of his lips on yours, sweaty skin sticking to sheets and the orchestral sound of his groans mixing with slick skin hitting skin. Christ, you're so screwed. Having sex with him isn't enough, not even in your dreams. You aren't sure why he's so all-consuming, but one thing is for certain: he isn't the only one with nefarious intentions.