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winetae · 5 years

Text

⇾ what you did last summer (m).

⇁ female reader x yoongi

⇁ smut, trophy wife!au

⇁ slowburn, dom!yoongi, age difference, consensual non-monogamy, power imbalance, semi-public sex, objectification, face-fucking, derogatory language and possessive behavior during sex, creampie, cum marking, unsafe sex, everyone is kind of slutty, not as wildt as warnings may imply

⇁ unnecessarily long for a pwp. 33.8k. phew.

. . .

Yoongi was fine with a lot of things—you maxing out his credit cards to buy ridiculously expensive items of clothing that you never wore more than once, you taking out his newest ride for a spin without permission, you spending an extra thirty minutes on your hair and makeup when he was running late for a dinner function.

What he was not okay with, however, was you sharing your pussy with barely-out-of-college boys who were incapable of going five seconds without creaming their pants.

No, that was where he drew the line.

↳ alternatively titled; How to Get Dick - an autobiography written by (you)

author’s note | while this fic does contain a semblance of plot, the focus is more on characterization which i understand can make for a boring read. also note that i have done (0) research and despite having owned a pool, still to this day do not know how to clean one.

written for 1 of my closest friends @tayegi as the most belated bday gift to have ever been gifted. ily :( ty for having passionate naruto-related discussions w/ me at 6am. u r the real deal !

(!) pls read the warnings. uncomfortable subject matter if delved in too deeply. tbh i didn’t know how to tag. also yoongi is older in this fic - an age gap is there and implied although none of the characters’ ages are specified.

song inspo: needy - ariana grande. that’s all! enjoy! hopefully! /cries

{THURSDAY. 10:23 am.}

“Hi, um, I’m Jungkook.”

The man shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling all sorts of self-conscious.

In stark contrast to his casual appearance, you looked neatly put together, not a strand of hair out of place. His well worn jeans and simple white tee looked terribly shabby in comparison to the tailored cream colored dress that hugged your figure. Jungkook didn’t need to check the original price tag or the label stitched onto the fabric to know that your outfit was Expensive (with a capital E for emphasis).

Doubt made his stomach turn. Had there been a dress code stated somewhere in the job description? Given Jungkook’s disposition, it didn’t seem very likely that he had overlooked such a crucial detail. He was the type to obsess over the smallest details, always double-checking everything before giving the go ahead.

Yet despite all of the precautions he was certain he had taken, Jungkook was unable to shake off the feeling of being disgustingly underdressed.

Worry bubbled in the pit of his stomach. His palms began to sweat as his gaze flitted back and forth between the pale pink freshwater pearls hanging off your neck and the clothes he had haphazardly thrown on this morning.

Well at least they were ironed, he mused. It was but a small consolation—the denim was faded from one wash too many and the frayed holes near his kneecaps made his jeans look tattered. Had he known the neighborhood would be this posh, he would have chosen his outfit with greater care. Right now he regretted not putting in more effort, if only to blend in with his surroundings. As he was now, he looked distinctly out of place. Almost as ridiculous as Samsung’s CEO taking a leisurely stroll through the downtown dollar store.

Jungkook half-expected you to take one glance at him, upturn your nose and slam the polished oak door in his face. In his panicked state, a number of embarrassing scenarios reeled through his mind, each one filling him with nauseating dread.

It was your expectant expression that snapped him out of his daze. He slowly blinked back into focus, realizing he had paused for a few seconds too long, and he cleared his throat.

A smile stretched across his face, not quite of the genuine kind. He squared his shoulders for good measure, doing his best to conceal the stress shaking up his insides.

“My name is Jeon Jungkook. I spoke to Mr. Min on the phone yesterday. I was expected to arrive at ten thirty?” His voice rose a little at the end, uncertain. It hadn’t been meant to be phrased as a question but his nerves made his voice quiver.

“Ah, yes, of course. And right on time, too.” Jungkook had made sure of it; he despised running late. “Nice to meet you, I’m ______,” you greeted, voice as smooth as velvet.

He tried not to openly stare because wow. Your blinding smile looked straight out of a Colgate advertisement, a tad too white to be completely natural.

Once again, you had him feeling self-conscious and all too aware of his own, less than perfect appearance. Whether it was the anxiety or the scorching heat beating down his back—or an unpleasant mix of both—a film of perspiration formed over his skin, leaving him sticky and uncomfortable.

Jungkook discreetly wiped off his palms against his denim clad thighs before taking your outstretched hand in his.

Despite your small size, your grip was surprisingly firm. If you noticed how abnormally clammy his hand was, you refrained from commentary. Instead, you held the door open a bit wider and ushered him inside the imposing abode.

“You can follow me. I’ll show you around to the back.”

He gave a little jerky nod and let you take the lead. For a moment, all he could hear was the nervous beat of his heart and the steady click-clack of your heels against the immaculate white floor tiles.

Jungkook blushed, quickly turning his head the moment he caught himself staring at your swaying hips. He wet his lips, his eyes darting around for any kind of distraction.

Inwardly, he scolded himself as he pinched the bit of flesh between his thumb and index finger.

Workplace crushes were never a good idea. Wasn’t it, like, written down in the code of conduct or something? It didn’t even have to be a rule. It was just common sense.

And Jungkook had no plans to fuck this job up. Summer jobs that paid this kind of money were scarce and hard to find. For someone like him who needed the money desperately, this job was a godsend, one that he would never dare pass up.

From the moment he had set foot onto Mr. Min’s property, Jungkook had realized that this wouldn’t be anything like his other part-time jobs that had consisted of repainting his neighbor’s fence and watering Mrs. Anderson’s flowers whenever she left town to visit her son. But this? This wouldn’t be just another pool cleaning job, that was for sure.

For one, the mansion, like every house in the vicinity, reeked of money. In his eyes, they all seemed to be competing against each other, with ridiculous, Disneyland-esque shaped hedges and wide, winding driveways capable of fitting several imported cars at a time. On the drive over, Jungkook had even spotted a marble fountain planted in the middle of someone’s front yard, clear water spouting out of a cupid’s arrow. He half expected peacocks and other exotic animals to parade across their lawns like some kind of zoo.

He could only assume that most of these ostentatious properties were owned by business tycoons or AAA-list celebrities. He cast a glance around as he tried to guess which of the two categories his employer belonged to.

To his dismay, there was nothing that particularly stood out to him. In all honesty it was…a little underwhelming. Jungkook had been expecting something jaw dropping in its obnoxiousness but he could spot no cupid fountains or gigantic aquariums built in the wall or pet tigers in gilded cages.

Mr. Min, whoever he was, seemed to favor subtlety. There were no life-sized cutouts of his person, no trophy collection showing off his achievements. The walls were painted an off-white, only decorated by the occasional painting. There were no family portraits, no personal belongings indicating that a person actually lived and breathed in this house. If he hadn’t known beforehand, Jungkook would have believed himself to be in some fancy hotel, not a home.

But the lack of personal ornaments did nothing to quell Jungkook’s growing curiosity. Questions whizzed through his brain. Was his employer a successful plastic surgeon? The living space somewhat reminded him of his dentist’s waiting room. Very clinical and clean. Then again, there was really no telling who he was working for. Maybe they were one of those Wolf of Wall Street stock brokers that owned dozens of unused vacation homes. Or, perhaps, Mr. Min happened to be one of those top-of-the-food-chain entertainment producers… His name did sound awfully familiar for some reason he couldn’t—

Jungkook hadn’t even realized his footsteps had slowed down, too caught up in his thoughts.

“You enjoy art?” The sound of your voice roused him from his ruminations. He jumped, head snapping in your direction so fast his neck throbbed.

Your head was tilted in what seemed to be—interest? The angle drew attention to the slope of your neck and for a few short seconds, Jungkook freaked out, wondering if it was normal to find the delicate curve of someone’s neck attractive. Was that too weird? Luckily he hadn’t been outright staring but he could still feel the tips of his ears heat up in embarrassment.

A beat passed as he finally registered your question. Did he like—? Oh. Somewhat belatedly, he realized that you had been talking about the work of art hung up on the far right wall. He must have been staring at it earlier without noticing. Was it a painting? A sculpture? He scratched his neck, not really knowing how to identify it. He couldn’t tell what it was supposed to represent, either, no matter how long he examined it.

“Not particularly... I mean,” he quickly backtracked, suddenly worried this was some kind of test. “I like it, I just don’t know much about it.”

It was easier to settle for honesty. Lying had never been his strongest suit. Besides, as much as he’d like to impress you, he had no actual knowledge to show off. And he’d rather be ignorant than a liar. Knowledge—well, he could always catch up on and learn what he didn’t know. Trust, however, was hard to earn back when lost.

“I find certain pieces nice to look at but my appreciation for art is rather superficial.”

Although you covered it well, he could tell you were slightly put off by his answer, almost as if you had been expecting something else. Jungkook worried his bottom lip, nervous he had said the wrong thing.

“I see...” Your eyes slid over to the artwork. “Beauty is subjective, isn’t it? Art is supposed to adhere to those rules, too. Some people will find this pretty, some won’t. And yet... It’s not that simple, either. Who assigns value to a piece? The artist or the consumer? I wonder about that sometimes.”

Jungkook nodded, unsure what else to say. You didn’t seem to mind the lack of commentary, continuing on, “I think about it a lot, actually. How do you define someone’s worth?”

Your expression shifted into something indecipherable, gaze slightly glassy, mind elsewhere. Remembering yourself, you covered it up with a polite smile.

“That there is a Rudolf Stingel piece, worth just a little over 5 million. It’s one of my favorites.”

He covered his shock with a loud cough that sounded more like a choke.

“Five million?” Disbelief colored his tone. Five million. Holy shit. “I-Is Mr. Min an art collector?”

Bitterly, Jungkook thought about how he could spend the rest of his life cleaning pools and never make enough to buy a scrap of metal signed Stingel. Not that he wanted to own one. It was just... The idea of being rich enough to spend millions on junk was—

He swallowed, forcing the feeling down. He tried very hard not to think about how one piece of metal could pay for the entirety of his tuition and then some. If he did, he’d likely spiral into depression. Being a broke college student sucked.

“You could say that...”

You shrugged, half smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It wasn’t like the blinding, 100-watt beam you had flashed his way the moment the front door had swung open. This version was less overwhelming, but certainly no less potent. The slow curl of your lips made it easier to admire the defined features of your face. Jungkook swallowed.

Beauty was subjective? Maybe so. Jungkook had no taste for the two-dimensional. He wouldn’t be able to discern a Monet from a Picasso if asked. But something about you had him inclined to change his mind.

Jungkook had seen beautiful women parade before him—but none like you. Your beauty was eerie—pretty in an almost unnatural way. You looked like a painting brought to life. There was something soft and sharp about your traits, like the definition of a marble statue and the roundness of a paintbrush stroking a canvas all in one.

“—He does buy a lot of it.”

“I see...” If Mr. Min had objects worth 5 million casually displayed in plain sight, he had to be the type of individual Jungkook would never cross paths with in his everyday life. They belonged to two different worlds, their orbits never meant to cross paths.

“Come on.” You smiled kindly, yanking him out of his stupor. “I still have to show you the pool.”

Dutifully, he followed after you, his steps measured and careful. Now was not the time to go breaking million dollar vases from the Qing dynasty or whatever other valuable pieces Mr. Min had acquired over the years. He sure as hell didn’t have five million in his bank account around to spend on damages. The mere possibility of getting fired on the first day, 5 million in debt, made his skin crawl unpleasantly. He shuddered.

“It’s a bit cold in here,” you apologized once you noticed him rubbing his arms. Goosebumps had raised on his skin. “Should I turn the AC off?”

“I’m fine! Really. Please don’t worry. I’ll be working outside, anyway. Unless… Is it, uh, an indoor pool?” He hadn’t considered that a possibility until now. Maybe there were even multiple pools to clean.

“No, no, the pool’s outside.” You continued your explanation as you led him through the conservatory. The glass ceiling allowed for natural sunlight to filter through, enhancing the aesthetic appeal of the room. Out of all the rooms he had walked through so far, this one seemed like the most inviting. “You can see it from here. See? Just through here. There’s no justifiable need for an indoor pool since the one we have is heated.”

Jungkook picked up on the strange use of pronoun—we—but didn’t question it. His thoughts were all jumbled up, anxiety making him unable to focus on one topic for too long. “Although, I suppose you could say there isn’t much need for this one, either. It rarely gets used… Honestly, I can’t remember the last time Yoongi went for a swim. It’s almost a waste.”

It took him several seconds for him to realize you were referring to Mr. Min. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered how long you had worked under Mr. Min to be able to address him by his first name. Or maybe his boss was lax about these kind of things? Jungkook somehow doubted it. The man he had on the phone last night hadn’t given off that impression at all.

“Is Mr. Min not home often?” he asked tentatively, hoping his interest wasn’t blatant. Jungkook wasn’t sure if his questions were appropriate or not but thankfully you didn’t seem to mind his curiosity. “Will I meet him today?”

“He should be stopping by later for lunch...” Your voice trailed off before you remembered his first question. “But, no. He spends most of his time locked up in his office, so I doubt you’ll see him very often.”

You said this as you turned your face away. Eyes downcast, you failed to notice when Jungkook caught your grimace from the glass door’s reflection. Jungkook diverted his gaze, somehow feeling like he had seen something he shouldn’t have.

“Ah, here we are.” You slid the glass door open and a gust of warm air blew in his face.

Jungkook stepped out onto the deck, one of his hands raised to block his view from the sun. The garden was in full bloom, a colorful arrangement of hydrangeas, astilbe and daylilies lining the stone pathway that wound down to the gazebo and the pool. A thick, sweet scent hung heavy in the air, so strong it made his nose twitch.

He followed you down the patio, watching in fascination as you walked atop of uneven stone steps with expertise despite the thinness and tallness of your heels.

“I’ll have to get another key double made for the shed, I forgot to get another one done. We keep all the cleaning equipment in here. Next time you come, you can come straight back here after someone’s buzzed you in.”

Jungkook nodded as you showed him where to check the water circulation.

“Do you have any questions? Hm, I think I covered everything. Although I’m sure there’ll be things I’ll need to tell you along the way because I tend to be forgetful.”

It occurred to him that he didn’t know what kind of job you occupied. The question balanced on the tip of his tongue. Would it be considered rude to ask? He swallowed it back down after failing to muster the courage to ask.

“Hm?” You made an inquisitive sound, head tilting slightly. “What is it? You can ask me anything.”

“So, uh, have you worked here long? Do you like it here?”

“Worked here…? Oh. Oh!” Your look of surprise morphed into one of amusement. The corners of your mouth pressed down together in an effort to hold back a laugh.

Jungkook grew uneasy. Somehow, without needing an explanation, he knew he had said the wrong thing.

“I don’t work here. Well. I suppose being a housewife is an occupation in itself, so I guess… Almost a year?” You fiddled with the ring on your index finger, the encrusted diamonds sparkling as the facets reflected the sunlight. “It’s our anniversary on the twentieth. So, yeah, almost a year.”

Jungkook stared at it without comprehending. It was like every cog in his brain had screeched to an abrupt halt.

“Housewife…?” Jungkook’s mouth fell open as he put two and two together. His brain had begun to catch up but it was still buffering like some early 2000 computer that was unable to process large amounts of information without crashing. “You’re—but you’re so young—? Not that that’s a reason for—I thought, I mean, I shouldn’t have—”

Stop talking. Stop. Talking.

“Sorry. For, you know. Assuming. It was wrong of me. Um.” He knew he should stop talking. He knew it and yet— “H-happy anniversary?”

His ears burned with mortification. If the ground could split open and swallow him whole, now would be a fantastic time for it to do so. He had always had shit brain-to-mouth filter but this was… Fuck. He wanted to bang his head against a wall but refrained from doing so, not ready to risk losing more brain cells.

You burst out into laughter, your shoulders shaking from the force of it.

“The look on your face,” you snickered, finally pulling yourself together. “I don’t usually get that kind of reaction. People are usually a lot less... Well. It doesn’t really matter what they’re like. They don’t matter.”

Jungkook hastily apologized again, fearing he had vexed you.

God, you probably thought he was the world’s biggest dumbass. He sure felt like one.

In his defense, your marital status hadn’t been a painfully obvious fact. Jungkook hadn’t even considered the possibility that Mr. Min was a married man. The house he had walked through earlier had lacked convivial warmth, giving the impression of vacancy. There were no wedding pictures framed on the mantle or any other piece of evidence of a lover.

Perhaps it was the age that had further thrown him off—you couldn’t be that much older than him. Maybe two years older? Five, at the most? The deep voice he had heard over the phone last night had given off the impression that Mr. Min was eons older. In Jungkook’s mind, he pictured a man with a balding head, fine lines near his eyes. Maybe Jungkook had been completely off from the start. But then again, Mr. Min couldn’t possibly be that young, either.

He did some quick mental math, trying to calculate and estimate how young Mr. Min could be. Sure, he had seen movies depicting extremely young and successful CEO’s but the real world worked differently. Mr. Min had to be in his thirties…at the earliest.

“Don’t worry about it.” You waved his concerns away with a flick of your wrist. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. Trust me…I’m really good at knowing when someone’s being intentionally insulting.”

The last part was said carelessly, like the words hadn’t actually meant to be voiced aloud. His brows scrunched up in confusion; try as he might, he didn’t understand what you meant.

“I’m really sorry,” he squeaked out, his ears still uncomfortably hot. He wiped his brow with the back of hand.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not something that bothers me.”

Jungkook only allowed himself to relax when he caught sight of the easygoing smile gracing your lips. “Well then, I think I covered about everything. If you don’t have anything else you need explained, I’ll let you at it. Why don’t I head on inside and get you some refreshments? It’s so hot out today—I wouldn’t want you to get a heatstroke.”

“That’ll be great.” Jungkook nodded in thanks. Now that you mentioned it, his mouth felt unbearably parched. He made a mental note to bring a water bottle for next time.

“Want anything in particular? I think we have just about everything stocked up in the fridge. Juice, sparkling water, cola...?”

“Water sounds perfect, thank you.”

Jungkook tried not to stare when you turned on your heels and walked away. He really did. Except it was hard not to notice how well the dress you wore flattered your figure, emphasizing the curves of your body in all the right places.

It was a futile battle; his eyes refused to cooperate with his internal demands. Honest to God, he tried really hard not to look but your legs looked fa—

He shook his head as if the action would somehow help him clear his thoughts. Get a fucking grip! his inner voice of reason yelled at him.

You were married.

To his boss.

He let that sink in. Or tried to. Jungkook didn’t need to have an IQ of 155 to know that having the hots for the woman married to his boss would ultimately result in disaster. Nothing good would ever come out of it. Why would you even consider looking at other men? Only a dumbass would think he stood a chance. Your husband probably provided everything you needed and more.

But what should have been sufficient incentive to put an end to his cru—whatever the hell it was—wasn’t doing jack shit. The only resounding thought in his mind right then was a constant loop of I’m so fuuucked. Because if there was one thing Jungkook was good at, it was spotting a losing battle when he saw one. But one thing he was bad at? Abandoning a sinking ship.

Back in the kitchen, you were feeling similarly distressed.

The corners of your mouth downturned into a frown as your eyes raked over the familiar penmanship.

Don’t wait up for me tonight.

You peeled the post-it note off the fridge, checking the back of the yellow paper to make sure you hadn’t overlooked any words he might have tacked on as an afterthought. Foolishly, your heart hoped to find any semblance of an apology—anything that would prove that somewhere behind his impassive mask he still loved you.

It was, unsurprisingly, blank.

Admittedly, your husband was a man of few words. He had never been known for flowery speeches, preferring to keep it curt and to the point. Efficiency, he called it.

Realistically, you should have known Yoongi wouldn’t have been able to spend the day with you. More often than not last minute work emergencies called him into office, interrupting whatever plans you had made for that day. This wasn’t outside the norm. Yoongi’s work came first and foremost. You had never deluded yourself into thinking otherwise and had never resented him for it, either.

Still...you remembered a time when he had put in more effort than a half-assed, scribbled note. Before he had tied the knot, Yoongi had been more attentive and thoughtful. There wasn’t a day that you didn’t wake up to the smell of fresh flowers, hand-picked and arranged in a crystal vase by your bedside. He never failed to call during the day between board meetings to check up on you and always made sure to make up for his absences one way or another.

Being with Yoongi came with its set of disclaimers and downsides, but like any worthwhile relationship, you had been willing to overlook these hardships. It wasn’t difficult to, not when Yoongi always showered you with prettily wrapped up gifts and hot mouthed kisses, erasing any doubts that sprouted within you.

Gradually, all that had changed. There were no more flowers, no more impromptu calls, no more candlelit dinners.

Whatever love that had previously existed was nowhere to be found. The notes he left around the house had become sparse and dismissive. You looked back down at his message and held back a scoff. The paper creased between your fingers and you had half a mind to ball it up and throw it away, along with the frustration simmering under the surface of your skin.

It was impossible to pinpoint the exact moment change had happened but somewhere down the line, the affection that used to gleam in his eyes had melted away, leaving behind a stony face devoid of warmth. You could imagine his face as he had written the note, features smoothed over into the same inscrutable look he reserved for his business clients.

“Guess it’s just going to be me and Euna today.” You glanced at your watch, the steel heavy around your delicate wrist, and desperately attempted to refocus your attention.

Your stomach twisted unpleasantly but you forced the nauseating feeling down with a forced out sigh.

Everything was fine. Besides, life went on and it wouldn’t wait for you to get your feelings under wraps.

You had been looking forward to having brunch with your sister and husband, but. Things happened. It was nothing to be upset about. You’d get over it after stuffing your face with a croissant or two.

When you came back with refreshments, Jungkook could tell something was wrong. He could see it by the hunch in your shoulders, the straight line of your mouth.

“Change of plans.” You set the sterling silver tray down with a thunk. The glass pitcher’s content sloshed around, threatening to spill over. He noticed there were bits of cut up—cucumbers?—floating around in the water. Weird. He wondered if it was considered rude to pick them out.

When he looked back at you, all of his inner ramblings ceased. Even though he didn’t know you well—or at all, really—worry still niggled at his heart. He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened in the last ten minutes, but the look on your face was cause for concern. He just...didn’t know if it was his place to ask.

You took a glance at your wristwatch unaware of his silent predicament.

“You’ll get to meet Yoongi some other time, hopefully. I thought I might get to introduce the two of you today when he stopped by for lunch, but it’s work related business and you know how that is.”

Jungkook nodded, knowing better than to speak. You smiled and shrugged, but he could detect an undercurrent of frustration. The smile looked different than the one you had on when you had doubled over in laughter—this one was a little strained at the corners, too wide to be completely genuine.

“Sorry to leave you here like this. I know it’s your first day.” You breathed out a sigh, shoulders drooping. “But I’m meeting my sister soon and I don’t want to get stuck in traffic.”

“’s cool. I’ve cleaned pools before, I should be able to handle myself fine.”

“Oh, and if you want a refill, just head on inside and ask June. She’ll get you whatever you like. She’s cleaning the upper floor right now, but she’ll be in the kitchen later. She’s a real gem, I bet you’ll like her.”

“Thanks—for this and everything else.” Jungkook’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he sent you a smile. “I’ll look forward to meeting your husband some other time.”

“It will be his pleasure,” you said, not realizing how spot on your statement would turn out to be.

In hindsight, maybe you should’ve cancelled your outing altogether and stayed home—if only to spare you from the embarrassment brought on by your sister’s sudden exclamation.

“What do you mean he doesn’t want to have sex?!” Euna’s voice rose in incredulity.

It was louder than what etiquette dictated as appropriate, and you had to hide your flinch behind a strained smile. You felt eyes bore into you from all sides as people swiveled around to stare in your direction.

An elderly lady dressed head to toe in Chanel tweed snickered into her napkin after giving you a once-over.

“Will you. Keep. It. Down.” You reclined back on your chair, your shoulders hunching in on themselves defensively. “We’re in public, Euna. So if you don’t mind, I’d prefer it if everyone here wasn’t up to date with my sad and pitiful sex life, because that’s really the last thing I need right now, thanks.”

“Oh no.” Euna dabbed the sides of her mouth with a napkin, deathly serious. “We’re talking about this now. I know you. You haven’t told anyone else about this. Not that I blame you, honestly. Your friends are all attention craving socialites. And it’s not like you’d ever go tell Mom about this. Not when she’s expecting you to pop a baby out soon. She’d probably find a way to lock you and Yoongi up in some room until you conceive her first grandkid.”

“Can we not talk about babies right now? Or Mom.” You repressed a shudder because fuck. That was another problem altogether—one that you were not equipped to handle at this very moment.

“Fine,” she agreed easily. “Talk to me about your dick problems instead, then.”

“What do you want me to say?”

Your attempt at nonchalance was weak at best. In front of you, the porcelain plate, stacked high with delicious French and Danish pastries, remained practically untouched. Usually by now half of them would have been devoured, down to the very last crumb. If that wasn’t an indicator that something was wrong then what was?

“There’s literally nothing to talk about. We haven’t had sex in weeks. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Weeks?!” Her glossy lips parted in shock. The emphasis on the plural form made you wince. As if you needed the reminder. “What the fuck.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” you said glumly, allowing a frown to draw on your features. As much as you liked to pretend you were fine with your husband’s increasingly distant behavior, it was impossible to keep up the pretense in front of your sister. She had a way of extracting the truth from you—even if it was a truth you were reluctant to face.

“Do you think... Um.” There was a slight pause as Euna gathered her thoughts, still trying to get over the shock of your confession. She lowered her voice to a whisper, perhaps finally realizing that the couple seated next to you were doing a piss poor job at eavesdropping. “D’you think he might be...cheating on you?”

Your rebuttal came out immediately, without a single trace of hesitation, “No way.”

“Are you sure?”

Your hardened expression did nothing to deter her from pressing the issue. “I mean, it’s not too far-fetched to imagine him having a sizzling office romance with a coworker. Or maybe there’s a rival executive he could be sticking his dick in to seal a—”

“No. Yoongi’s not. He’s not like that.” You shook your head, trying to clear your vision from the offensive images her words had conjured up. “He’s just been busy and stressed with work, that’s all. There’s a big merger happening soon and there are still a lot of things under negotiation right now so he has a lot going on.”

“Well what about a blowjob? No? Not even an under the desk handjob?”

Her Alexander Wang silk blouse wrinkled under her crossed her arms. The look of betrayal painted on her face made it seem like you had offended her on a personal level. Honestly you weren’t sure why she was getting so worked up over this. It wasn’t her dick getting neglected. “Look, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had a guy refuse a good ol’ dick sucking.”

“Well good for you.” Your voice lacked sincerity, dry as the desert.

“And I’m 90% sure all the pent up cum that accumulated in his balls is the reason Yoongi’s acting like such a grade ass prick.”

“Read that in Science Weekly, did you?”

“As a matter of fact,” Euna narrowed her eyes at your tone. “Doctors say that blowing your load on the regular is the secret to a long and prosperous life.”

“The ‘expert’ opinion in Cosmo isn’t considered medical backup.”

“Well are they wrong? If you got dicked down more often I bet you wouldn’t be so fucking snappy all the time. Frowning like that is only going to give you premature wrinkles. And that’s a fact.”

“Why do you have to make it a matter of dick or death. Jesus, it’s not that dramatic. I bet all couples go through these dry spells every once in awhile. It can’t be that uncommon.”

“It is! Keeping your vagina happy, keeps you happy. As an extension of—”

“Would it kill you to be serious for a second?”

She huffed, feeling wrongfully rebuked. “It’s your sex life is on the line, not mine.”

That sobered you up a lot more quickly than you would ever like to admit. “I’m well aware...” You pursed your lips into a pout. “Look, it’s not that he doesn’t want sex with me. He just doesn’t have time for it. Because of work. I’m sure everything will go back to normal in a few weeks.”

“In a few weeks? Uh...” Euna trailed off. “Can you even hold off that long?”

“Ha, your faith in me is astounding. I’ll have you know that I’m perfectly capable of going without sex for a month. Or two. I’m sure it won’t kill me... It’s not, like, the end of the world or anything.”

Euna’s raised brows made it clear that she didn’t believe you for one second. “Wasn’t the last time you abstained from sex for more than a month in—” She stopped, deep in thought. “When was the last time you took a break from sex? You have the sex drive of a rabbit.”

“That’s not important,” you snapped, stabbing your fork into a cheese tart. The rich, creamy texture melted on your tongue as soon as you bit into it, but for some reason your favorite dessert tasted like ash in your mouth. “I know you’re trying to help, but sex isn’t the magical solution to everything. It won’t fix anything. Not that anything needs fixing, I’m just saying.”

Sensing that the conversation was drawing to a close, Euna scooted backwards in her chair and stretched her arms. “Mhm, okay, if you say so. Good luck with all that... I sure wouldn’t want to be in your place, that’s for sure.”

That made two of you.

“Thanks,” you sighed. “Just. Whatever, it’s okay, I’m fine. It’s really not a big deal.”

“Uh-huh. Well if things ever start to become...not okay...you can always—”

“I said everything’s fine,” you cut off sharply, effectively putting the conversation to rest. Your appetite lost, you set your fork down.

Regrettably, Euna’s words rattled you more than you cared to admit. You couldn’t shake off her warnings and advice no matter how much you tried to. Throughout the day, you found your thoughts wandering back to the conversation with your sister. Could she be right? The longer you let yourself ponder the issue, the more your doubts grew.

Despite your best efforts, you had no way of stopping these poisonous thoughts from plaguing your mind. No one was around to help you get rid of them and without an outlet, they grew and grew, culminating into an unbearable ache.

You hated the feeling of loneliness—of being alone and helpless, with nothing but your own thoughts to entertain you. You wished Yoongi would hurry up and come back home so that you could find refuge in his embrace. The bed was too big for just you alone and you hated seeing how empty it was without Yoongi snuggled up next to you. It was always during the time before sleep claimed you that his absence was the most painful to swallow. The overwhelming feeling of loneliness kept you awake for hours. Sometimes, no matter how exhausted you were, your body refused to cooperate unless it knew Yoongi was laying down at your side.

It was with no surprise that you found yourself all alone in the king sized bed that night, Yoongi’s side untouched and unoccupied. Your fingers reached out to where his sleeping figure should have been. Instead of a warm body, you grasped a handful of air. The only reminder that he slept next to you was the faint trace of his aftershave that clung stubbornly to the sheets. You tried not to sigh out in disappointment. You had been doing too much of that lately.

Turning over, you checked your phone for any message notifications despite already knowing that you wouldn’t find what you were waiting for. You curled up in a ball, feeling colder than you had been a few moments ago. Ordinarily, you’d try to stay up and wait for his return, but the day had been so emotionally draining that you slipped into a dreamless sleep the second your eyelids drooped to a close.

{SATURDAY. 11.18 am}

Despite the unlimited number of TV channels provided, none of the current programs had been interesting enough to capture your attention for longer than a few seconds. Your focus had drifted from the flat screen a long time ago. An infomercial on a 10 speed juice blender buzzed on in the background, but you paid it no heed.

Summer was supposed to be synonymous to leisure and fun. Yet here you were, splayed across the living room’s couch with no tangible vacation plans.

The worst part was that you were alone, with no one to distract you from how utterly and entirely boring your existence had become.

Not that you’d ever confide these innermost feelings to anyone in your entourage. You could already hear your mother’s condescending tone ring through your ears, chastising you for not living your life to the fullest (i.e. spending all of your husband’s hard earned money on luxurious vacation trips to St. Barts or wherever). And sure, trips to St. Barts and St. Tropez were fun—but they weren’t what you wanted. There was no point of going so far overseas when the person you wanted to spend time with was stuck back home. At least here you could see Yoongi from time to time, even if those times were becoming a rarity.

Your friends wouldn’t understand. They had no qualms jetting off every weekend to their private resorts and eating out of season, imported delicacies plated on shining, sterling silver dishes.

Speaking of friends, you flicked through their Instagram accounts, envy stirring in your lower belly as you swiped through their recent pictures, each snapshot showing off lavish hotel rooms equipped with balconies overlooking exotic landscapes and modern skylines. But the designer handbags dangling off their arms weren’t what made you froth at the mouth—you had enough of those lining up your walk-in closet.

No, what you envied the most was how fucking happy they seemed in every single shot. Pic after pic, their whitened smiles never waned.

You blew out a sigh, the heavy sound drowned out by television static.

God. What were you even doing with your life? Was this what you had to look forward to for the next twenty years? Would you and Yoongi even last until then?

This wasn’t how you had imagined your life would turn out when you accepted Min Yoongi’s proposal a year ago.

The honeymoon phase was long over. Even in your company, his attention never strayed too far from his work phone. And that was when he was home. Over the course of the past few months, he had reverted back to the workaholic man his friends and family had always known him to be, leaving behind no trace of the person you had become so taken with.

Working for his attention had always been a challenge. That was what had initially drawn you to him. Out of all the possible suitors lined up for a taste of you, only Min Yoongi’s detachment and feigned disinterest had stood out from the lot. There was something exciting about it, something that kept you on your toes, as opposed to the throng of other candidates that would easily bend to your will. His handsome looks had just been an added bonus.

But somewhere along the way, there had been a shift, too minute to notice on the spot. Now, when Yoongi brushed you off, there was no gleam twinkling in his eyes, no smirk on his lips. It didn’t matter if you wrapped your body up in lace and the finest satin, or stayed up until the early hours of the morning for him to return home—he always asked for a rain check, claiming fatigue.

Eventually, you had stopped trying so hard. There were only so many times you could handle being pushed away again and again before it started to hurt.

As much as you had enjoyed earning the praise and attention in the past, you didn’t like...whatever this had become. It wasn’t a game with rules and limits anymore. When Yoongi pushed you off of him, he meant it. So as much as you appreciated a man who was hardworking and dedicated to his job, you couldn’t help but crave the attention he had stopped giving you.

The pressure weighing down on your chest increased, making it hard to breathe. Invisible hands had wrapped themselves around your lungs and squeezed hard, leaving no room for air. For an interminable moment, you felt like you were drowning, the sound of your heartbeat drumming in your ears.

When you blinked and swallowed, the feeling had disappeared, leaving you feeling hollow, like someone had dug out your heart with a chisel.

It took a while, but you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and finally made up your mind.

What you needed was a distraction, something to keep your hands and mind busy. You couldn’t stay put like this, trapped in your own thoughts and feelings. If you did, you’d surely go mad.

...The only problem was that there weren’t that many distractions available. You could go out on your own into the city to shop or eat but you dismissed the thought as soon as it had a chance to take form. Your closet was already full to the brim with clothes you hadn’t yet found the chance to wear.

As if she had somehow telepathically perceived your difficulties, June, your housekeeper, materialized into the living room, holding a laundry basket against her hip. Quickly, you gathered to your feet, excited by the prospect of finally finding something to do.

She jumped up in surprise, a high-pitched squeal leaving her throat, not expecting to see you appear in front of her with no prior warning. A strand of her curly hair escaped her wound-up bun but she deftly pinned it back in place after readjusting her hold on the laundry basket.

“Is there anything I can help with?” you asked eagerly.

“Sorry? I don’t quite understand...”

“Like... I don’t know... Maybe some dishes to clean or socks to fold up...”

“You want to clean dishes?” she echoed, looking at you as if you had suddenly sprouted a second pair of limbs.

You tried not to take offense and pursed your lips.

“Yes,” you confirmed with a firm nod of your head. “Any tasks that you might need help with.”

“Are you feeling okay ma’am?” she queried instead, the lines on her forehead expressing genuine worry. “Do you need to lay down? Should I get water? The heat might be—”

“I’m fine! I just.” You wrung your hands in agitation. Why the hell was this so complicated? Since when did cleaning require justification? “I need something to do. I’m so bored I feel like I’m losing it.”

“Ah. I see...” She looked unconvinced by your words but knew better than to voice her concerns. “Alright. In that case you can do the—ah. Hmm. Why don’t you prepare some cold drinks for the pool boy? The weather must be giving him a hard time.”

“That’s it? You don’t need any help with the cleaning? You had the feeling that she didn’t entrust you with the more ‘serious’ household chores because she was worried you’d inadvertently blowup appliances or flood the laundry room again.

(It had happened once. Forever ago. Wasn’t it time to let it go? How were you supposed to know that you needed to measure the detergent before dumping it in?)

“... Maybe later. I’ll be sure to let you know if I need additional assistance, but thank you for offering.” She shot you a professional smile, putting an end to the discussion.

You trudged back to the kitchen, dragging your faux fur slippers across the floor in defeat.

It wasn’t what you had hoped for, but at least you had something to occupy the time with. Knowing that this was your only distraction, you planned on prolonging this task for as long as humanly possible.

What should have taken less than a minute to complete had turned into a tedious chore. You cleaned each strawberry by hand, cutting out the stems with unneeded precision, before slicing them into thin, even pieces. You did the same with the mint leaves and mixed it all into a glass pitcher.

Satisfied with the end result, you poured a generous amount of lemonade into the tall glass before storing the rest in the fridge for later. It was hard to keep the drink balanced on the tray as you slid open the glass door, but you somehow managed to not make a mess.

The heat hit you all at once and you frowned, feeling bad for whoever had been sent out today to clean the pool. It was laborious work and the weather did nothing to alleviate the situation. Nobody wanted to work outside in these less than pleasant conditions which was why it had been a pain the ass to find suitable candidates that were up for the job.

You had tried finding solutions around this problem—like raising the pay rate and alternating between different cleaners every couple of days so that the same one wouldn’t be subjected to the grueling heat all week long. You had been surprised to see how many people sent in applications—not that you were complaining. The only one who had something to say, was Mrs. Kim, the widow from across the street, who liked to grumble about how you were stealing all the good ones.

At the time, you hadn’t quite understood what she had been trying to insinuate. Weren’t all pool cleaners the same? But as you approached the pool, tray balanced dangerously on one hand, it all started to make sense.

Time slowed down like it did in those cheesy, over-the-top kdramas that were all the rage amongst housewives. How many times had you seen the same scenario play out whenever the male protagonist appeared on screen for the first time and met eyes with the heroine from across the room?

It was like you had suddenly been thrust into the drama lead’s shoes. Everything else seemed to fade away, your gaze drawn to man in front of you like a moth to a flame. It was impossible not to stare. Some invisible magnetic force kept your eyes fixated on him. The world could have been crumbling around you for all you knew.

His damp clothes clung to his body like a second skin, revealing sinewy muscles worthy of Calvin Klein billboards. Greedily, you drank in his figure, your gaze lingering on the attractive curve of his ass and the outline of his abs visible through the now see-through white shirt.

You gulped audibly, your mouth unpleasantly dry. It was distracting. He was distracting. Only a miracle had kept you from dropping the tray you were holding.

Eyes closed, the man tipped his head back and brought his right hand up, carding his fingers through his wet locks. Like a magnet, your eyes were immediatley drawn to his bare neck.

You were transfixed. There was no other word or explanation for it. Even if you had been able to, the chance of you peeling your eyes away from the spectacle in front of you was slim to none.

It hadn’t even registered how ridiculous you probably looked, with your feet planted to the ground and your mouth parted in evident awe.

You took a much needed moment to appreciate his profile—your eyes running down the sharp line of his jaw and down the slope of his neck towards his exposed collarbones. Water droplets dripped down his handsome face and in that very moment you swore that he looked like he had stepped out of a high-end underwear advertisement.

He strung a spare towel around his neck before turning his full attention onto you. Instantly, you were struck by how alive his eyes appeared. They glinted with thinly-veiled mischief. That, the fullness of his lips, and the confident smirk he sported, gave him a youthful and playful mien that contrasted with his virile and attractive build.

“Er...” You coughed, politely averting your eyes from his body. “Do you— Do you need me to get you a spare pair of swim trunks? Yours look a little, um, small.”

You winced, knowing it had been the wrong thing to say.

“Oh?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice that had you looking up at him in alarm. His smile widened, the corners of his eyes creasing into crescents. “Please don’t bother. I work better in these.”

“Oh...well... If you’re sure.”

“Certain.”

He licked his lips. His eyes were hooded, heavy lids doing nothing to subdue the sultry look aimed your way.

“Alright.” You swallowed and paused, searching for the appropriate words. In the span of a few short seconds, your brain had short circuited. You got the next few words out, tongue heavy in your mouth. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Your name would be nice.” An easy smile sat on his lips.

“______.” You included your last name, hoping he’d get the hint. Briefly, you remembered your interaction with one of the other pool boys, Jungkook, and how flustered he had gotten over his mistake. The one standing in front of you couldn’t have been more different.

“Park Jimin. You can call me Jimin.” He glanced down at the platter you gripped onto with both hands. “This for me?”

Light reflected off the metallic surface of the tray and you were reminded of what you had stepped out the house for.

“Yes, please have something to drink. I made it earlier, I hope it’s to your taste.”

“Thanks for thinking of me.” He took the glass of freshly pressed lemonade off the tray, using the opportunity to step closer to you. The sharp scent of chlorine tickled your nose but to your surprise, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “It gets awfully hot out here and I get so thirsty. You know what I mean, right?”

His voice was as sweet as cotton candy. It took a moment for you to realize he had stopped talking and a few seconds more for you to remember how to form words of your own.

“I try to make refreshments available for all the staff. Everyone works really hard, even in this weather, so I’m thankful,” you said, trying to retain a certain air of professionalism. Hopefully it would be enough to stop him from seeing through the bullshit spouting from your mouth.

Jimin jutted out his bottom lip in a pout before raising his glass to his mouth. He took a big gulp, probably all too aware of the way you were tracking the movement with your eyes. In what was probably a calculated and premeditated move, the pink of his tongue darted out to lick the sweetness off his lips. Distantly, you noted how full and rosy his lips were.

“Aw. And here’s to thinking I was special.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh and shook his head. Water droplets fell from his wet fringe, the soaked strands sticking to his forehead. “So what’s a pretty thing like you doing shacked up, hm?”

“What?” The bluntness of his words caught you off guard. You were used to people being coy, hiding their pretenses behind smiles and well-versed pleasantries. Jimin’s forwardness left you momentarily dumbfounded and at a loss for words.

“Gotta admit, when I took up this job I was expecting to land the standard.” Jimin laughed, pleased. “Can’t deny this is a welcome surprise. Nothing wrong with the older crowd, but you’re definitely something else.”

“E-Excuse me?”

“So what’s your story?” His eyes raked over your form. Unabashed, he lingered on the swell of your breasts, the dip at your waist. You blinked, the apples of your cheeks warming as you remembered you hadn’t worn a bra. You hadn’t thought much about your choice of outfit before—it was thin and comfortable enough to wear around the house, the silky material soft against your skin. Jimin seemed to appreciate the selection, too, if the way his eyes darkened in approval was any indication.

He tapped a finger against the pout of his lips in mock contemplation. “Let me guess. Married a geezer who’s too busy banging his hot secretary to look after you. And when he does, you wish he didn’t because his stamina is shit. Can he even get it up? Heard old age does that to you, not that I would know...”

He shrugged, the smile on his lips sympathetic.

“Yoongi isn’t like that,” you denied right away, a frown ruining your expression. You knew that the conversation was most definitely crossing lines that shouldn’t be crossed. You kept telling yourself to put an end to it before it could get out of hand.

“No?” Jimin leaned in, close enough for you to feel his hot breath fan across your skin.

You didn’t dare move, let alone breathe. Any closer and your breasts would graze his chest. The shocking part was that you almost wanted it to happen. Not that—not that you wanted it to happen with Jimin, specifically. You just wanted. Your body had been suspended in a constant state of yearning for so long that it didn’t take much to stir its interest.

He stepped back to properly appraise you. A shudder ran down your back as you struggled not to let your emotions show. “You look awfully desperate for someone who should be getting dicked down on the regular.”

You opened your mouth to retort but no sound came out.

The heat in his gaze left you breathless. Yoongi used to look at you the same way, before. You remembered the hunger, the way your body used to warm up and ache and squirm under the power of his gaze. Whenever he looked at you with those eyes, your knees would buckle and you’d fall to your knees without question.

“Trust me,” Jimin continued on, oblivious to the perverse thoughts running through your mind. “If that was my ring on your finger, you’d never leave our bed because you’d be too fucked out to even get up. What’s that husband of yours thinking?”

He shook his head, not expecting a verbal answer from you. When he spoke up, his voice had a dangerous undertone.

“It’s because he’s not satisfying your needs,” he said matter of factly. “If he wasn’t as disappointing in bed as you claimed, there’s no way you’d be out here, panting for my dick down your throat instead of his. Isn’t that right, sweetheart? You need a nice, thick cock to fill you all the way up. And I can give you what you want, you just gotta say the word.”

Were you being that obvious?

You bit back the whimper threatening to claw its way out your throat. His words kindled a desire deep inside of you—a primal desire you had valiantly tried to suppress for the past month. Yet with only a few well chosen sentences, he had coaxed that need back to the surface, putting all your efforts to waste.

Different scenarios and possibilities flashed in front of your eyes like a fast-forwarded montage. You were so caught up in your thoughts, the infinite could if’s, that Jimin’s disappointed sigh had become background noise.

“Too much?”

You blinked up at him owlishly, not fully grasping the situation until he had taken a few steps back. Even as he backed off, the smirk never fully melted off his face which was a little disconcerting.

Thankfully, the newfound space separating both of you made it easier to breathe, to think straight.

With a surprisingly steady voice, you spoke out. “Jimin, I’m married—”

“I know.” Jimin shrugged as if what you had told him was an inconsequential detail.

Nonplussed by Jimin’s behavior, you bit the inside of your cheek.

Shouldn’t this guy have some morals? Usually men backed off at the mention of a husband but Jimin refused to conform to the norm. Based on what he had previously insinuated, he probably had fucked his fair share of married women. So was it all a game to him? A kink? An ego thing? Were you doomed to be just another notch on his belt? You furrowed your brow, trying to figure out the conundrum that was Park Jimin.

He misinterpreted your silence and sighed, an exaggerated pout on his pink lips.

“It was worth a try... The offer still stands, if you ever change your mind.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. I’m not going to force myself onto you or anything.” He grimaced at the thought. “But you should know that the option’s there. I wasn’t lying about what I said earlier... You deserve to be with someone who knows what he’s doing... And by the looks of it... He’s not fucking you nearly or well enough to keep you satisfied. I’m more than willing to be of service in any way I can. I promise you won’t be disappointed, I’ve never gotten complaints before.”

He pushed his hair back as his eyes perused your form again, his gaze half-lidded. You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked away. You hated how correct most of his assumptions had been. And what you hated even more was how certain he seemed about it all, like his words were the absolute truth.

Something about that irked you. You hated being read so easily—by a stranger, no less. It was embarrassing, how easily he had assessed your situation and lumped you with the countless other bored housewives he had undoubtedly had his way with.

“Well, thanks for the offer, but no thanks, I’m good. I’m perfectly fine. I appreciate your concern, but it’s not needed.” Even to your own ears, your speech failed to sound convincing. At this point, you weren’t sure who you were trying to persuade—Jimin or yourself. Either way, you weren’t proving to be very capable; your words rung out false and hollow.

“Enjoy the rest of your drink. I hope it quenches your thirst.”

And with that, you turned your head and scurried back into the sanctity of your house, far away from sin and temptation itself. Heart palpitating, you swore that you felt Jimin’s gaze follow you all the way to the door, clinging to you like a shadow. The look he had given you right before you scampered off was one that you’d spend the rest of the day trying to forget.

Unfortunately for you, time was not a sufficient balm to soothe over the heat Jimin’s words ignited. Long after the sun had set, the utter filth that had spilled from his lips kept running through your mind, keeping you up.

Sleep was impossible to find, not that you were surprised. It was becoming a regular occurrence and you figured that you should go seek a doctor’s help if your condition didn’t improve soon.

But you knew that what you needed were neither pills nor herbal concoctions—your body needed Yoongi. You missed his presence, the way he stroked your cheek after you pulled back from a kiss, the way he kept eye contact when he pushed his thick cock between your legs.

God, you fucking missed that asshole.

You hadn’t always hated how much you depended on your husband. You had wealth of your own—or rather your family had wealth of their own—but all your personal expenses and whims had been funded and provided by Yoongi. All of your possessions had been bought with his money—everything from the imported cars, the luxury bags, the designer goods, and the summer residence in The Hamptons you visited every now and then.

The dependence hadn’t bothered you before. And it still didn’t—not in the way that it might bother or embarrass others, anyway. You never felt like you were in his debt after spending hefty amounts of money; that was not how your relationship worked.

What made you uneasy was how physically dependent on him you had become. It wasn’t until you had been repeatedly denied from his touch that you realized how much your body craved it, ran on it like how a car needed fuel.

Tonight was the night, you finally decided, determination set in your features.

Reaching into the closet, you pulled out your most recent purchase from La Perla and slipped it on, making sure it still looked as good as it had a week ago in the dressing room mirror. You hadn’t found the right moment to wear it and figured it wouldn’t hurt to put the expensive lingerie to good use.

A nervous energy tingled down your spine as you got ready. Anticipation was building inside your belly but you couldn’t tell if it was the good or bad kind. You were brought back to a time when it had been fun to surprise Yoongi. Those had been the best nights—even the mere memory of them had your thighs squeezing together. Back then, the possibility that he might shut you down hadn’t existed.

Maybe you already knew, deep down, that you were setting yourself up for failure.

It still didn’t stop your chest from constricting painfully around your ribs when Yoongi reacted exactly the way you had feared he might.

“What’s gotten into you?” His face conveyed confusion, his gaze flickering from the lit candles around the room to the way your body was splayed out indecently on the bed, body covered by the barest scraps of frill and lace.

On any other day, the sharpness in his tone would have been enough to cut through your confidence and back off. You would have dropped the subject and moved on. But this time the sting of rejection wasn’t easy to dismiss, repetition only making it worse.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you snapped, frustration getting the best of you. You sat up from your position on the bed, not missing the way his gaze dropped down to your exposed chest. To your great disappointment, you couldn’t spot any arousal in his expression. He might as well have been looking at a blank sheet of paper. What had changed? Was it him—or was it you?

Your sister’s words from a few days ago were creeping back now, reinforcing all the doubts and dejection you had fought so hard to suppress. Why didn’t he want you? Were you not desirable anymore? Had he found someone else to fulfill his primal needs? And if he had, what did that mean for you?

What the hell were you supposed to do with a husband that refused to touch you, let alone talk to you?

A sickly feeling rose up your throat, the acidic taste of bile flooding your mouth.

“Do you not love me anymore?”

The question was meant as an accusation, the words supposed to carry the weight of all your pent up fury and bitterness. Instead of the harshness you had intended, your voice came out feeble and wrung out. The truth was that you were afraid of his answer and what it would do to you. Yoongi’s words were the only ones capable of breaking through the armor you had built around yourself. You didn’t care for the gossiping housewives or the scummy tabloids. But Yoongi? He had always been different. Important. Yours.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It doesn’t suit you,” he chided none too gently.

“Can you stop that?” In the bedroom, the authority he wielded aroused you to no end. But sometimes, like now, Yoongi’s tone and wording rubbed you the wrong way. Did your feelings not matter anymore? When he spoke like that, it made you feel so small. And not in a good way, not the way you liked to feel like during good sex or when he hugged you, limbs wrapped around yours like your own personal fortress.

You pulled the strings of your robe together, your body turned to ice. The see-through material was lightweight and flimsy, doing nothing to obscure your body from view or keep you warm.

Why had you tried in the first place? Like Yoongi said, you felt ridiculous.

Pride bruised and battered, you attempted to keep your wobbly voice steady.

“God, you can be so condescending when you want to be. I’m not a plaything you only listen to and take care of when it pleases you. I’m your wife, not some plant you need to water every two weeks, don’t you get that?” You weren’t even angry anymore. All you wanted was for this to be over and for your relationship to go back to the way it was before. You were tired of feeling insecure, tired of waiting and wanting. Just...tired.

Yoongi’s brows furrowed, his mouth opened as if to voice his immediate protest.

“I’m not—” He cut himself off, lips thinning into a frown. The deep line between his brows never smoothed over, as if permanently etched onto his features. He bit the inside of his mouth, taking a moment to choose his next words carefully.

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but he suddenly appeared older, closer to the age written down on his official documents. Genetics had given Yoongi smooth skin and good looks that made him look more youthful than his actual age. But as he stood there in front of you, you could tell that Yoongi’s beauty was marred by evident signs of fatigue and stress.

“I... I didn’t know I made you feel that way,” he confessed sounding genuinely regretful. “I wasn’t—it wasn’t my intention to. I’m sorry it came off that way. I don’t think of you like that, just so you know.”

The silence that followed his words stretched on for several long seconds.

He didn’t look away from your probing gaze. Even without searching, you knew his words to ring true. He was a bad liar. Good at keeping his feelings locked under key, yes, but never one to outright deceive others. Yoongi had always been bad at expressing affection. He was also bad at reading feelings. He was probably so caught up with his workload that he hadn’t noticed at all.

In retrospect, your outburst had been somewhat unfair. Maybe you were being unreasonable, adding on to his extensive list of worries.

But, no. That didn’t sound quite right, either. Just because he hadn’t been aware that your feelings had been hurt, did not mean that what you felt wasn’t valid. You weren’t selfish for wanting to be happy. You shouldn’t have to feel guilty for wanting to be loved.

“I know,” you said, voice quiet enough to pass as a whisper.

Yoongi’s sharp eyes softened. The hard lines around his mouth rounded into a small smile.

“Come here.” He walked over to the bed, his legs spreading as he sat down.

The open invitation was one you were powerless to resist. Although you knew the conversation was far from over, you had missed his warmth and his touch far too much to refuse him. Your entire body hummed, itching for the close physical contact that you had been denied for so long.

His thighs flexed as your fingers dug into his silk pajamas for leverage. From this distance, you could see how haggard he truly was. Purple lined the underside of his eyes, making them look swollen and bruised. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and his cheekbones more prominent than you remembered them to be. When had he last had a proper meal? You suspected that he hadn’t been taking care of himself, no matter what he tried to make you believe. Whenever he got into that serious headspace of his, nothing else mattered but his work—not food, not sleep, and certainly not you.

Cold hands inching up your back interrupted your train of thought. You had been so touch-deprived that any amount of attention directed your way made your body vibrate with ill-concealed excitement.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been neglecting you. Things right now are...” He exhaled sharply, his shoulders slouching under the weight of his worries. “Work has been keeping me busy, that’s for sure. I’m afraid I can’t do much about that. I promise I’ll make it up to you in a few days, once this blows over and we secure our terms.”

“You’ve been so stressed,” you remarked as your own hands wandered up his arms and shoulders. His lean muscles were unnaturally tense under your touch. It had been so long since you had touched him properly that the planes of his body felt like unfamiliar territory.

When he didn’t move away or show any signs of protest, you leaned in to press your lips against his. The kiss was slow, your mouth melting against his like snow falling on a furnace.

The silky material of his clothes facilitated the glide of your hands down his chest. But before you could reach any lower, Yoongi grabbed you by the wrists, effectively halting your movements.

“Not tonight,” he whispered roughly against your lips, short of breath.

“When?” You hated how whiny and petulant the question made you sound, but you couldn’t help it.

“Shall I pencil in an appointment, then?” he humored. “Would you honestly be happier I gave you a time, place and date?”

“Not really, but I’ll take it.”

“Is sex really the only thing that matters to you?” he asked, half fond, half exasperated.

“It’s your fault for marrying a slut. You should’ve known what you were signing up for.”

You shared a smile. For once nothing felt awkward or strained. You tried to cherish the moment while it lasted.

Yoongi’s expression eventually morphed into the apologetic one you had grown accustomed to seeing recently. You tried not to let your stomach sink in disappointment, already anticipating his rejection before he could voice it.

“I’m sorry, I’m just not in the mood. You know I can’t focus when there’s so much going on at work.”

“You won’t even need to do anything!” you tried despite knowing that your chances of convincing him were slim. “I’ll top and do all the work.”

“If that’s the case, can’t you just use a sex toy?" Yoongi rolled his eyes. “What’s my use if I’m just going to lay there and take it like a starfish?”

“Did you think I wasn’t using a sex toy all this time? I have a high sex drive... I wasn’t going to just sit around and not take care of myself.”

“Then what’s the problem? It doesn’t matter how you get your pleasure. I’m not one of those men who get weird over their partners using toys. It won’t be a blow to my pride, or whatever.”

“It’s not enough, okay?! I need your cock filling me up, fucking me into the mattress. Every time I cum on my own, it’s not enough.”

“I said no.” He sighed. “Look, it doesn’t matter to me how you deal with it but I can’t take care of it.”

“Take care of it? Is having sex with me a chore or something? Jesus.” You pushed him away with an annoyed expression. Yoongi’s hands dropped from your waist, not putting up much of a fight when you left the seat of his lap.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he said ever so patiently, almost like he was talking to a child.

You huffed, scooting further away from him. It didn’t escape your notice that he made no effort to close the physical distance separating the two of you, his hands laying limp at his side.

“So you’re saying you don’t care how I get myself off? You wouldn’t say anything? Not even if I went and got myself a real cock to fulfill my needs?”

Yoongi raised his brows, the insinuation taking him by surprise. Clearly he’d underestimated your level of desperation. You watched his face closely, hoping to decipher what was running through his mind. Unfortunately, you couldn’t tell if the tightness in his features hid displeasure or interest.

His lips were drawn into a thin line as he mulled the proposition over. After a moment of silence, he said in an even tone, “Go ahead, if that’s what you want.”

What.

You hadn’t actually expected him to agree. Turn you over and spank you for suggesting something so outrageous. Get angry for pushing an issue he wanted to drop. But not... You didn’t think that he’d actually be okay with it. Did that mean that he had stopped cari—?

Before you had the chance to finish that thought, he continued on, the dark of his pupils pulsing, “You know that I’ll never deny you. Everything you want is yours. That is my promise to you.”

You opened your mouth to contest but he beat you to it.

“Whether it’s my cock you need, or another’s. So be it—if that’s all it takes for my needy wife to be satisfied.” A slow smirk pulled at the right side of his mouth. When he spoke, it was gruff and laced with arousal. “You can try to find all the substitutes in the world, but you know that the only one capable of giving you the pleasure you crave so deeply is me.”

Ribbons of heat immediately curled in the pit of your stomach. Dimly, you thought how unfair your dynamic with Yoongi was—all he needed to do was snap his fingers and you’d happily spread open your legs for him. You had always been eager to please him, but you had to admit that the time spent away from him hadn’t fixed such matters.

His hand reached out to trace the outline of your lips. You didn’t dare breathe as the touch of his fingertips lingered, the ghost of a promise making your heart jump in anticipation. Your lips parted in silent invitation, giving him permission to ruin you.

He leaned in so that his breath caressed your skin, the gentle whisper carrying a dark undertone.

“So be patient, darling—or I’ll give you nothing.”

Whether this was a promise or a threat, you were left unsure.

{MONDAY; 11:19 am}

This was a bad idea. A Very Bad Idea.

But bad ideas had never been enough to stop you from getting what you wanted in the past. You called it determination. Some people would disagree with the sentiment but when had their opinions mattered?

Two weeks ago, you wouldn’t have considered going through with this. But your last conversation with Yoongi had been the final push you needed.

Your face broke into a scowl as you remembered his parting words. The infuriating part was what had been written all over his face—the haughty certainty that you’d never rise to the challenge he had issued. That was what had ticked you off the most. You hated losing, but you hated being underestimated and easily dismissed as a non-threat even more. And Yoongi? He knew that about you—and had used it to his advantage.

The question was…could you go through with it? You had never dared to go this far in the past.

In truth, you hadn’t even considered it. The only person you were interested in was Yoongi. It didn’t matter if other men were closer to your age, richer, brawnier, or more traditionally handsome. The only one you wanted was Yoongi. That would always be your constant variable.

So why were you out here in this gross heat, instead of inside the comfort of your house?

Beads of sweat accumulated near your hairline and dripped down your neck. You resisted the urge to grimace. There was nothing you hated more than sweating in a context that wasn’t good sex or a pilates class.

Not that your sacrifices mattered anyway—you knew for a fact that Taehyung hadn’t spared you a second glance since he had gotten to work.

You risked a peep over the latest issue of Vogue you had been pretending to read, your sight zeroing on the person in charge of cleaning your pool for the day. He was ridiculously handsome, with strong, defined features and a lithe build, and had this habit of sticking out his tongue whenever he was particularly focused on a task.

Kim Taehyung was maybe a little too absorbed in his work. Was it normal to be this hardworking? Not that you would know what the norm was—you had never worked a day in your life whereas your husband took his job way too seriously. Judging by what you had witnessed in the last hour, you were inclined to believe that being unhealthily dedicated to your work was the norm. The poor kid had yet to take a water break.

You hid a sigh by sipping your fruit smoothie.

In theory, porn made seducing the pool boy seem like an easy and achievable task—but the truth was that you had no idea how to go about it. It was a shame the clichéd porn scenarios hadn’t covered what to do in case the pool boy in question failed to acknowledge your presence altogether.

He had worked nonstop since he had arrived, barely looking up from his crouched position near the edge of the pool, too busy fishing out floating leaves and dried flower petals with the help of a skimmer.

You looked down at your bathing suit just to check that your cleavage was still on obvious display.

It had been a long time since you had to work for someone’s attention that wasn’t Yoongi’s. Were you rusty? Or had you really become that undesirable? It didn’t seem to matter that you were wearing a risque bathing suit. You might as well have been a potted plant.

Taehyung had the defense of a wall of steel. It didn’t matter what tricks you resorted to catch his eye—he never budged an inch. Even when you stretched your limbs, nylon straining to keep your decency in tact, Taehyung didn’t bat an eye.

Needless to say, it was a huge blow to your pride.

Glad that no one else was around to witness your embarrassing attempts, you nonetheless wished to erase your existence from this earth. You gripped the sides of the magazine tighter to cover the entirety of your face and prayed for his shift to end soon.

“I could have been naked and he wouldn’t have noticed,” you despaired the next day, pressing the phone closer to your ear.

“Maybe he just prefers dicks?” Euna tried to comfort. “Or... You know... Maybe he values his job and doesn’t want to get fired for sexual harassment.”

“I wasn’t—” You spluttered. “I’m just saying he wasn’t looking. The plants were more interesting than me! He just... I can’t believe I got bested by fucking weeds.”

“Tough luck. You shouldn’t get sulky because someone would rather work than bone you.” She paused, perhaps realizing how deep rooted your insecurity was. “Relax. It’s not the end of the world! He’s just one guy, they’re not all like that! You’re not the problem here. Sometimes guys... They need you to be more direct. They don’t understand subtle. Like, you just have to go for it. Batting your eyelashes and showing some sideboob isn’t going to suffice.”

“What do you mean go for it?” Your nose wrinkled in disdain. Yes, you were dick deprived, but not to the point that you’d jump on the nearest available dick like some savage.

“Haven’t you ever watched porn?”

“I’d rather die than deepthroat a popsicle.”

“Oh please. Like you haven’t done worse than that. ” You could hear the eye roll that accompanied her comment. “I’m telling you that men are thick in the head and sometimes need you to spell it out for them, letter by letter, word by word. None of that coy shit. The only ones that fall for that are men like your husband.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Hmph. He has the emotional range of a pea—”

“You’ve only talked to him three times in your life?”

“—so it’s surprising how well the two of you get along, all things considered. Though I suppose if anyone’s gonna get an emotionally constipated person to confess their feelings, it’s you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Did you think I was complimenting you? Oh - I gotta go now, Mom needs me in the kitchen. I’ll call you back tonight!”

“Can’t. I have T&S’s premiere launch event to attend.”

“Oh fine. Good luck, then. Get that dick! Wh— Yeah, it’s your other daughter. Oh fine. Yes, I’ll let her know.” Euna turned her attention back to you and let out a small noise of exasperation. “Mom says she’s happy to hear you and Yoongi are doing well. She’s wondering when you’ll share some, um, good news with her.”

Her words were laden with meaning. You didn’t need her to elaborate any further, having already been roped into the same conversation countless times before.

Somewhere in the background, you could hear your mother yell get that dick! with all the aggressiveness of a cheerleader during the last five minutes of a game.

Ignoring her was the wisest move. You hurriedly bid her goodbye, eager to end the call, knowing that if you didn’t you’d have to be subjected to another hour of your mother’s ceaseless nagging. And—ugh. You had other pressing matters on your hands.

Like, for one, getting that dick.

{WEDNESDAY. 11.45 am}

Getting dick was—surprisingly—not an easy feat. College!you would be crying if she saw how much you were currently struggling.

Your busy husband remained unswayed, no matter how often you tempted him to yield.

That only left you with so many options, the next one being: OSTPB — Operation Seduce the Pool Boy.

...Although that option wasn’t proving to be as fruitful as you had hoped.

Where had it all go wrong? You would have thought that your pride was enough to overwrite any subsequent embarrassment. Even if your self-esteem suffered as a consequence of your actions, you had been determined to see this through.

Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined failing for a second time—but such had been your fate.

A glower broke out across your face, tiny creases forming between your groomed brows. Your most recent non-success had gone spectacularly awry and every time you thought back to what had happened, your stomach turned over in mortification.

Unlike Taehyung, Kim Namjoon had seen you coming from a mile away. His sharp stare had pierced straight through you, uncovering all of your secrets with the force of his gaze alone. It had taken one look at your scantily-clad body for him to correctly assess the situation and act accordingly.

Somehow that had made his disinterest all the more disheartening and humiliating. The experience forced you see your situation in a different light. You couldn’t help but pity yourself a little. A married woman throwing herself at any handsome man that came her way? That was pathetic, even by your standards.

Maybe you were better off calling the whole thing off. At least, that’s what you convinced yourself. You hadn’t counted on a third opportunity to present itself.

“Bad day?”

“That obvious?”

Hoseok smiled. “I’d say so, yeah. You’re drinking before lunch. That’s never a good sign.”

He had a point.

Crinkling your nose, you explained, “I had to attend a baby shower this morning... It’s the third one this month! Honestly. What is it, mating season?” To you, it all served as one big reminder that everyone was getting it on except for you—which naturally put you in the brightest mood.

“Then why bother going? I’m sure you could find other activities to do instead.”

“Free Dom Perignon,” was your automatic answer, albeit not a truthful one. Hoseok cracked a smile.

“I wouldn’t have thought that to be a problem...” He eyed the flute of sparkling champagne you were currently nursing.

“It’s the principle. But... You’re right. They’re always such a chore. And I could definitely pass up on Sohee’s constant nagging. God, she never shuts up. Especially after starting on the champagne. Fucking lightweight,” you glowered, lipstick stained mouth thinning into a straight line. “All she ever does is gloat and provoke me. Whatever. She’s just mad the man she got married to is nearing 60 and balding. I’d be mad, too.”

Hoseok laughed. It tumbled out of his parted mouth, loud, unrestrained, and so unlike the artificial pleasantries you had been subjected to all morning. The sound was clear and infectious, ringing through the summer air like wind chimes.

You gulped down the remnants of champagne, the golden bubbles sliding down your throat smoothly. It wasn’t your first flute of the day. By now, the alcohol was flowing pleasantly through your bloodstream, warming your skin to a glow. The muscles on your face relaxed.

“But think of all the free fancy ass booze and food you’d be missing out on. If you hate the others so much, just go sit in a corner and eat your truffle hors d’oeuvres and caviar canapés in peace.”

“If only I could,” you said, followed by a very dramatic eye roll. “I’ve got an image to keep up, you know. The gossiping crones already see me as some dumb bimbo who whored herself out to land a nice, rich, young husband.” You tried to keep your voice light and airy, but shades of bitterness could be heard despite your best efforts.

Your marriage with Yoongi had caused quite the stir... Even now, a good year after the wedding, people still had your name on their lips, tainting it with disdain.

What bothered you was that they thought Yoongi was easy. Did they think all it took was a nice rack and a tight ass to win him over? Sometimes you wished your husband only thought with his dick—it would make things a lot easier for you, that was for sure—but that wasn’t the kind of man he was. And at the end of the day, that wasn’t the kind of man you wanted him to be, either.

“Ah, come on, it can’t be that bad.” Hoseok’s lazy smile drooped. You turned your face away, hating the sympathy you could see in his eyes. You didn’t need to be pitied. Annoyance made you take another sip.

The smart move would be to agree and end that particular discussion with a swift conversation change. It was what you were used to doing.

But an invisible force stopped the words from shaping. Later on, you’d blame it on the liquor in your veins muddling your judgment and the sweltering summer heat making you dizzy. Instead of the prepared answers you were used to dishing out, your genuine emotions bubbled to the surface before you could filter them—and once you got started, it was impossible to stop.

“It is. I’ve heard them. They’re not discreet, nor do they want to be.” You adjusted the sunglasses perched on your nose bridge, glad you had something to hinder Hoseok’s attentive gaze. He was too observant for his own good. “They’re always equally surprised and disappointed when they learn Yoongi hasn’t filed for divorce and put himself back on the market. Sohee’s only two years younger than me but she keeps asking me for tips.”

“Tips?”

“Yes...” To your chagrin, you found that the flute of champagne was empty so you set it down. “She always rubs her age in my face as if a two year age gap is that big of a deal. Hmph. According to her, the only reason Yoongi would stay with me for so long is because of my evil feminine wiles.”

“Didn’t you say she has a husband? Why does she care what you do with Mr. Min?”

“Yeah, well, joke’s on them because I don’t do anything.” Something sour ruined your expression. At least your Gucci shades gave you something to hide behind. “Not for lack of trying, anyway,” you added bitterly.

Hoseok tilted his head to the side, his expression one of polite confusion.

“...You don’t do anything?” he parroted, trying to make sense of the words. It was the first time hearing you profess yourself so frankly, without pretense or filter.

“I don’t want to spell it out for you,” you grumbled, not daring to meet his eyes. You were pathetic as it was... No need to make yourself look even worse. As if you needed Hoseok pitying your nonexistent sex life on top of everything else.

There was a moment of silence, only broken by the sound of birds chirping and the distant sound of your neighbor’s dog barking. You let your eyelids flutter close, feeling a strange sensation of calm wash over your body.

Admittedly, getting your inner frustrations off your chest had been relieving, in a way. It had been nice to have someone listen to you rant, even for a moment. Talking with Hoseok was a nice change from the stilted and repetitive conversations you had during your obligatory social run-ins with other housewives.

Speaking of Hoseok, you didn’t need to open your eyes to know that he had probably gone back to finish his job, not knowing what to say without making it awkward or crossing boundaries. You didn’t have the heart to open your eyes and check. As long as your eyes were closed, it was easier to maintain the illusion of peace you had found momentary refuge in.

The sound of quiet rustling made you crack open an eye. Surprise had you opening both. While you had been stuck in your inner musings, Hoseok had gotten up from where he had been sitting to plop down next to you.

You didn’t dare move. Not only because the abrupt move had caught you off guard, but you were worried that if you tried to squirm away to give him more room, you’d topple off and hit the ground. The chaise lounge was too narrow to comfortably accommodate two people but somehow it worked. When he adjusted his sitting position, the material of his swim trunks brush your outer thighs. Hoseok was so close that you felt the heat radiating off his body.

He reached over, grabbing a bottle of tanning lotion you had set down next to a pile of magazines. As he looked up, he saw your wide eyes and hastened to explain, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look really stressed.”

No shit, you wanted to snark but he cut you off before you had the chance.

“You should let me,” Hoseok suggested while shaking the bottle in his hand. “I’m pretty good at working out knots. I don’t have a certificate or anything, but—my body gets really tense after dance class, and sometimes I don’t have the time or money to go to a salon. I’ve read books and watched a lot of YouTube videos, which, I can understand may not sound very convincing but trust me, I know what I’m doing. Of course, doing it to yourself is fine, too, but it’s a lot more effective when someone else takes care of it.”

All you could do was stare. The bout of silence was enough to make him lose a bit of confidence, and he sent you a sheepish smile.

“I mean, it’s up to you. I’m definitely not as good as the pros but I’m not terrible, either. Some even say my massages are better than orgasms.” The sudden grin he sported was so wide that you couldn’t tell if he was exaggerating or not. “I just figured… I can’t guarantee a 100% success rate but I’ll do this free of charge, so that’s something to consider. This is a limited time offer.”

“You know I’m not one to turn down freebies,” you said through a smile, not taking as long as you should have to consider his proposition. Maybe you should have thought harder about the implications but right now his offer seemed too good to pass up. A massage that was better than nutting? Sold. “Should I…?”

“Yeah, why don’t you roll around onto your stomach for me? I can start on your back,” Hoseok said while he uncapped the bottle and squirted a dollop of tanning lotion onto his palm. He rubbed his hands together, warming up the liquid, before pressing the pads of his fingers into the meat of your shoulders.

“This okay?” he asked as he hovered above you. “It’s better when I use scented oils like lavender but this will have to do. I didn’t bring any of my usual stuff with me.”

“Mhmm.” His voice sounded far away already. “It’s good.”

His hands covered every inch of your skin, slow in their study. Slender digits alternated between rubbing circles and squeezing flesh. From time to time, flashes of pain spread across your back as he worked on your muscles. The soreness melted away just as quickly; Hoseok seemed to know just how much pressure to exert for you to go boneless in his grip.

Slowly, you felt yourself relax under his ministrations, your head drooping further into the cushion as he worked his magic on you. You had to bite your lip to prevent any embarrassing sounds from filtering out whenever his strong hands kneaded a particularly sore spot. It felt so good that you were convinced Hoseok had been a professional masseur in his past life. Not even the ladies at the spa you regularly frequented could get you to unwind this efficiently. If you could stay in this blissed out state forever, you would.

You heard him saying something about what pressure point he was massaging but his voice came out muffled, as if a thick stone wall was separating the two of you. His words had been tuned out the moment his hands had drifted lower to work on the bottom of your spine. Nothing else mattered but the firm press of his fingers against your heated skin made easy thanks to the slickness of the tanning lotion.

Slightly dazed, it took a moment to register that Hoseok was repeating your name in an attempt to grab your attention.

“Is it alright with you if I untie this?” His voice was warm and syrupy like molasses. You had the strangest desire to bathe in it.

You nodded your assent, breath hitching as you felt his long digits work on the knot of your bathing suit. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before finally pulling the strings apart.

The tension in the air was palpable. All pretense of a simple and friendly massage having been thrown out the window the moment he had asked to remove your clothes. After all, there had been no sound and logical reason to—it wasn’t as if the thin piece of fabric tied at your back had hindered his movements in any way or obstructed his work.

Hoseok had asked for your permission to go further and you had given it to him without a second thought.

“Is this okay? Do you want me to stop?” He waited for your verbal confirmation to continue. His fingers had stilled, no longer working your skin like dough. On one hand you were thankful for him giving you ample time to back out, but on the other hand...

Now that you had been given a preview of what he was capable of doing, how did he expect you to turn him down? Maybe that had been his plan from the start—wind you up to your breaking point until you had no choice but to beg and plead.

The top of your bikini slid off your body as you propped yourself up on your elbows. You had to crane your neck to throw him a look over your shoulder, your hair cascading down the arch of your back as you did so, but the slight discomfort was well worth it.

The rough pads of Hoseok’s fingertips dug into the divots of your waist. To keep you still, maybe. But you could tell by the clench of his jaw that he was holding himself back.

A sudden surge of power coursed through you. Speeding, top down on the highway and riding twisting rollercoasters...none of these came close to giving you the same high that surged through you when you were wanted, coveted, and lusted after. There was nothing more empowering than knowing your presence made men weak in the knees.

“It’s okay if it’s you, Hoseok.” You batted your lashes and let a slow smile spread across your face.

It was an enticing invitation, one that Hoseok had no heart to refuse. He raised a tentative hand towards the scruff of your neck, letting his weight rest there as if testing the waters. When he saw that you weren’t going to retract your words or shy away from his touch, he let his palm drag down your bare back.

There was no way that he didn’t notice the way goosebumps littered the skin he touched, the way you trembled with want.

There was no reason to be nervous, you thought as his fingers danced on your skin. The words spoken to yourself weren’t intended to reassure—you were stating facts. Hoseok was safe and secure. You knew that if you wanted to put an end to everything right now, he’d do so without complaint.

As if reading your mind, he smiled in promise, “I’ll take good care of you. Why don’t you turn around. Let me see all of you.” He nudged you, fingers stopping short of your pale blue bikini bottoms.

Hoseok tensed when you twisted around to lay comfortably on your back. Although he had been the one to suggest it, the sight of you topless momentarily robbed him of speech.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Awe colored his tone. His eyes mirrored the sentiment, wide with wonder.

He squeezed more lotion into the palm of his hands and wasted no time reaching for the dip of your waist. Warm hands slid up your sides, tickling your ribcage as they reached higher and higher.

A shaky breath left your lips when he finally enclosed his hands around the globes of your breasts and gently squeezed.

Desire lit a fire in the pit of your belly.

There was something undeniably sexy about having to face him while his hands freely roamed your body. When your head had been nestled in the crook of your arms, it had been easy to let your mind drift away. But your current position now made that impossible.

Hoseok’s presence was overwhelming. All you saw was him—the fiery depths of his eyes, the pretty slope of his nose, his fucking arms, and the way his long fingers were currently cupping your breasts, his thumbs rubbing the peaks insistently until they ached. The upward tug of his lips told you that he was well aware of how well he was affecting you.

“Good?” It was a rhetorical question. You were putty in his hands, as pliant and malleable as a ball of clay.

He readjusted himself between your legs and used his knees to keep your thighs spread open for him. A whine worked its way up your throat. Much to your frustration, his new position prevented you from rubbing your legs together and getting the friction you so desperately needed.

Your lower lips felt uncomfortably wet, and by the way Hoseok ran his tongue over his lips like a famished wolf in front of a long-awaited meal, you knew your arousal to be evident. By now the expensive piece of swimwear was surely stained with your juices.

Hoseok’s hands had wandered back down your body, digits now tracing your hipbones, while his gaze resolutely fixed the spot between your legs. For a reason unknown to you, he didn’t dare go any further than slip his thumbs beneath the material of your swimming suit.

Exasperation built up inside of you the longer the teasing went on. You didn’t know what he was waiting for. It was clear that he wanted it as badly as you did—if the tent in his swim shorts was any indication—so what was holding him back? How long were you going to keep staring at each other before the weakest died of blue balls?

So you did what any woman of action would have done and pulled at the strings holding up your bikini bottoms. Two quick, efficient tugs later and you were stark naked, bare as the day you were born.

Hoseok’s eyes bugged out.

To your dismay, your forwardness failed to have the desired effect. Instead of urging him into action, all he did was freeze up. In fact you feared that you had broken him—his mouth opened and closed once, twice, three times, but no sound came out.

“Do you need a hand written invitation?” At this point, you were running out of options. God, what did it take to get fucked around here? Like. Bless thee who invented dildos because without them you would have lost your mind a long time ago.

Finally he shook his head, hands reaching down to grip your thighs. His tongue poked out to lick his lips. “You’re something else...”

“In a good or bad way?” you asked, the hitch in your breath audible. His hands hands had inched dangerously close to where you wanted him to touch the most.

His lips quirked into a grin. “I’ve never seen someone get this soaked over a small massage. You’re literally perfect.”

Words that should have embarrassed you were balanced out with praise. The mix of the two made your insides tighten.

“Eager, too.” His grin widened. “That’s how I like them.”

Before you could quip back, he swiped his pointer finger through your slippery folds. The initial touch made your entire body jolt. It had been so long since someone had given you attention that your body ate everything up like it was starved. You couldn’t remember the last time a man had touched you properly, especially one that wasn’t your husband.

The thought of Yoongi only made your heart thump harder against your ribcage. You had no time to dwell on your feelings, however, not when Hoseok added a second digit to the mix.

His brow was furrowed in concentration. Guys your age had the tendency to rush through their motions, fueled by the need to get off. Sometimes they even skipped foreplay entirely. Hoseok was not like other guys your age. He took his time running his digits through your slick lips, not caring about his own erection straining his shorts.

It didn’t take long for you to get impatient again. You had always had a problem with waiting and being patient—and the last month had seriously tested the limits of your self-restraint.

Just when you were about to voice your frustration, Hoseok gathered your arousal until his fingers were thoroughly coated with your juices. He honed in on your aching clit with expert precision. Your thighs tensed as you tried your best to keep your hips still and your legs open.

It didn’t take long for it to feel really good. Better than the expensive bullet vibrator that you had been using religiously for the last few weeks. You were 100% certain that you would have hurled prematurely to your end if Hoseok hadn’t eased up on the pressure, his touch now feather-light and teasing. The abrupt change in pace had you reeling.

You slumped back into the chaise lounge, the back of your head hitting the twined material with a dull plonk. Fate apparently wanted to deprive you of a good orgasm until the very end. That petty bitch.

Hoseok chuckled and you tried not to take offense. You’d like to see him last as long as you had.

“You’re not relaxed at all.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” you deadpanned.

It was hard to keep the pout on your face when his fingers resumed their ministrations. Your knee jerked when he brushed over a particularly sensitive spot and you had to bite your tongue to keep any moans at bay.

“Ever heard of the saying ‘good things come to those who wait’?”

“I’ve been waiting plenty long!”

“Is that so?” His tone turned sickly sweet, almost mocking. “Guess I have to reward your good behavior.”

Before you had time to second that thought, he thrust a finger up to the knuckle, the sudden intrusion catching you by surprise. It was like someone had punched the air out of you. Your mouth parted in a silent cry as his finger soon turned to two.

He kept up an easy rhythm, his fingers curving every so often to drag along your inner walls. Every single one of your nerves were on fire.

Bit by bit, the constant and steady pressure made you unravel. Any control you had over yourself and the situation was slowly slipping through your grasp—but the loss didn’t bother you as much as it normally would have.

“How does that feel? Shit.” He stifled a groan when he felt you clench around his fingers, no doubt imagining that it was his cock buried inside your warm pussy instead. “Shit, you’re so fucking hot.”

“You’re doing so good,” you panted between two breaths. “I’m, ah, going to cum soon.”

“Already?” he asked, equally surprised and pleased at the admission.

Your words fueled his desire to see you fall apart. His pace picked up, the force of his thrusts making your back arch every time he buried his fingers into your heat. The brush of his fingers against your velvety walls felt so good that you could have cried fat tears of gratitude. Hoseok reached so much deeper than you ever could, stroking places inside of you that you had a hard time reaching on your own.

Hoseok must have a PhD in fingering, you thought, half-delirious from the amount of pleasure he was giving you. It had taken him an extraordinarily short amount of time to find and zero in on all your erogenous zones. Just like how he had known which spots to press during the massage, he seemed to be eerily attuned to your body and its needs. Not that you were complaining—far from it actually.

All of your inner ramblings ceased when he squeezed in a third finger, stretching your walls to accommodate the extra digit. You expected it to burn—three fingers was nothing to scoff at, especially ones as long as his. What should have been an uncomfortable experience wasn’t thanks to how fucking wet he had made you.

He drove his fingers in and out of you, alternating between swift and slow, rough and sweet. The wet squelches were obscene, so loud that you were convinced your neighbors could probably hear you if they tried hard enough.

Distantly, you realized what a shocking pair the two of you made. If your housemaid bothered to look out the window, she’d see you naked and getting fingered by someone who was most definitely not your husband. Now wouldn’t that be scandalous?

The mere thought of Yoongi brought you closer to the edge. Your eyes fell shut of their own accord, images of your husband replacing the ones of Hoseok. Lost in your favorite fantasy, it didn’t take long for you to reach your end. It never did when you started imagining your husband pleasuring you.

With the memory of Yoongi’s smirk painting the dark of your eyelids, you came, walls contracting around Hoseok’s hand like it was trying to milk cock. Your back arched off the chaise, your entire frame trembling from the force of your overdue orgasm. Spots of white dotted your vision and you had to forcibly blink them away. Only then did you realize that the yells puncturing the air had belonged to you.

“So fucking pretty. How are you so fucking soft? Shit, this is way better than what I imagined.”

“Think about me a lot?” you asked once your heart had calmed down to an acceptable rate.

You expected him to deny it but to your surprise his concession came easily. “Can’t help it.” He deliberately looked away from your look of wide-eyed curiosity. “You’re… Seriously, you could have anyone.”

“I’m not sure about that.” You reached for the hand settled on your thigh. It was only when you interlaced fingers that he looked up at you.

There had been a time when you had felt invincible, capable of bewitching any individual of your choosing, no matter the status or experience. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

But Hoseok spoke with such sincerity that you couldn’t help but eat up his praise. The way he touched you—stroking your body like he was handling an expensive piece of artwork, like you were valuable and untouchable—made you believe him. You wanted to be convinced.

“I’ll show you, if you’ll let me.” He kept his gaze steady and you found it hard to look away from the intensity burning behind his stare. “Want to make you come on my tongue. Let me take care of you.”

You felt your muscles pull as you spread your legs wider, putting your glistening folds on crude display. Hoseok swallowed thickly and wasted no time diving in, one of his hands maneuvering your lower body until one of your legs hooked over his shoulder, giving him better access to your dripping core.

He leaned in, close enough for you to feel his breath warm your skin. It was the only warning you got before he darted his tongue out, the flat drag of the muscle making your toes curl.

It was slow, sweet torture. As much as you wanted more, wanted to grind yourself on his face, Hoseok kept a sturdy arm braced over your stomach while the other wrapped tightly around your thigh. You had no other choice but to just take it the way he wanted to give it, completely at his mercy.

The steady, insistent flicks of his tongue over your clit had you gushing, your hole clenching sporadically in hopes of getting filled up again. You pulled the silky strands of Hoseok’s hair in an attempt to get him to satiate your need for more—but to no avail.

Hoseok refused to speed up, even as he felt your thighs tremble under his hold. If anything, your frustration seemed to amuse him. He chuckled against your clit, the vibrations setting each and every one of your nerve endings on fire.

“Hhn, puh-” you sucked in air. “Shit, I’m so, so close.”

He hummed in encouragement, smile hidden between your folds.

You knew you were cumming before it actually happened. It started slowly, your toes curling and knee jerking, and then worked its way up your spine. Stars blotted your vision until all you saw was white.

If he hadn’t kept you firmly pinned in place, arm muscles flexing as you resisted, you were sure you would have crushed Hoseok’s head between your thighs. Or accidentally kicked him in the shins. The force of your orgasm was a tangible force, one that knocked the wind out of you like a punch to the gut.

“So good.” He sucked his slender fingers until they came off clean.

Sitting there between your legs, he looked like the picture perfect definition of debauchery—red lips and chin glistening from your juices, face splotchy in the cheeks,hair mussed up and knotted by your hands.

His eyes didn’t leave yours for a second, even as he licked the last traces of you off his hand. Your core throbbed. There was something undeniably arousing about a man who genuinely enjoyed giving head, who did it because he wanted to and got off on it, not because he felt obligated to or because he wanted something else in exchange.

“You’re so fucking sweet.” He glanced down and groaned. “I’m so hard, fuck.”

“Do you want me t—”

“No, no, just. Give me a moment.” He palmed himself through his swim trunks but kept his gaze fixed between your legs, his attention unwavering. “I’ve made such a mess of you... Look at your thighs, they’re soaked. And that stain’s going to be impossible to clean off. What are you going to do if someone asks you what happened? It’s way too big to miss.”

You spread your thighs a bit more, intrigued by the way his hand seemed to press down harder at the visual provided. “What do you want me to tell them? I can’t possibly tell them the truth... If any of the housewives found out how good you are with your hands, they’ll end up stealing you from right under my nose.”

“I don’t care about them,” he dismissed seriously. “Why would I when the sweetest pussy is right here, all swollen and dripping for me.”

Your cum was still slowly trickling out of you. Upon hearing his words, your core clenched and the contraction made a fresh gush of opaque fluid drip down between the crevice of your ass. You resisted the urge to wipe yourself off, knew that the slight discomfort was well worth it if it meant witnessing Hoseok’s unraveling.

Hoseok was so enraptured by the sight in front of him that he was probably unaware of how deathly attractive he looked at the moment. It wasn’t a trick of the light or an ephemeral thought. Hoseok had always been handsome in your eyes but there was a distinct difference between when he was working and when he was set on giving you the high of your life. You had never been subjected to the brunt of his charisma, but now that you had, you could tell how much control he had over himself. Even now, his sexual energy was focused and restrained.

His eyesight had zeroed in on your pussy like a hawk sweeping in for its kill. His toned chest rose and fell, drawing attention to the sheen of perspiration lining his muscles.

“Hoseok.” The neediness in your voice broke him out of his trance.

When his eyes met yours, you felt your core clench up again. The sight of him shirtless, his lean muscles tensing every time his palm rubbed over the head of his erection through the material of his trunks, was enough to get you aroused all over again despite your recent orgasm.

“Please cum on me,” you asked sweetly.

He groaned in response, the sound low and guttural in his throat.

You hadn’t thought it possible, but his eyes darkened, black pupils swallowing up the brown of his irises until there was nothing left but raw arousal.

“Yeah? You’d let me?” He shifted onto his haunches and hastily tugged down his shorts low enough to relieve his aching member from the confines of the fabric. His red cock stood stiff, the tip leaking pearly precum everywhere.

A pleased smile stretched across your face. By the looks of it, he had been hard for a while.

The thought made something in your stomach curl pleasantly. You had done that, not anyone else. That alone was enough to spread heat throughout your body.

“I want you to cum all over me.”

“Fuck, when you talk like that I want to give you everything.” Hoseok held up a hand to your mouth and ordered in a gruff voice, “Spit.”

Doing as he commanded, you gathered as much saliva as you could and let it pool into his cupped palm. He muttered quick praise and wasted no time slicking up his length with your spit—not that it was needed.

It didn’t take long for him to cum.

“Where do you want it?” he asked between gritted teeth. Not once did his pace falter or slow down as he raced toward his end.

“Right here.” You didn’t need to think twice about it, your hand already reaching between your legs to open yourself up for him.

He growled as cum painted your inner thighs white. His hand stroked him through his orgasm, not stopping until he was certain he had nothing left to give you.

When Hoseok hunched forward to slot his mouth over yours, lips tasting of you, there was no mistaking the victorious smile adorning your face.

{FRIDAY. 10.21 am}

Something in the air had changed.

It felt like the world had tilted on its axis and the stars had realigned themselves in the sky. It was like getting your contact lens prescription strengthened—the world just looked different.

Your midday tryst with Hoseok had been the catalyst behind it all.

The reverence illuminating Hoseok’s eyes as he watched you come apart was still fresh on your mind. It filled you with bubbly giddiness. And that feeling—that swarming of butterflies in your stomach—was undoubtedly an improvement from the paralyzing numbness you had grown accustomed to over the last few months.

For the first time in a while, you had been able to sleep soundly. The results of a good night’s sleep were perceptible to the naked eye. Your skin was dewy and radiant, clear of the usual imperfections brought on by anxiety and exhaustion.

“You look well this morning,” had complimented June as she filled your empty glass with freshly pressed orange juice. You had hummed around a bite of gluten free toast, pleased with yourself.

Your good mood lasted all throughout the morning. It was Wednesday, you realized.

There was a bounce in your step when you realized what day it was and who you’d inevitably be seeing. Even though it hadn’t been that long, time tricked you into believing eons had passed since your last encounter. So much seemed to have changed since then.

You didn’t feel like the same person, for one. There was no more awkward fumbling or nervous lip biting, no sudden urge to cover your scantily exposed body with a bathing gown.

The confident stride towards the pool’s edge felt less like an act. When you sat down at the ledge, dipping your ankles into the lukewarm water, you didn’t feel like some kind of fraud. You were no longer trying to emulate the person you had once been—you were that person. It had just taken a while to find her again.

Jimin rose to his feet. He had been changing the water filter before your arrival had made him halt mid-activity.

For now you didn’t pay him any mind. You stretched your neck to the side, soaking up the summer sun. You were sure that you would have painted a much more seductive picture if your ass didn’t feel like it was on fire. Literally.

The stony edge of the pool was too hot, bordering on burning. You wriggled around, hoping you’d eventually adjust to the heat but in the end couldn’t handle it.

You slid in, water splashing around you as you submerged yourself. The water barely came up to your chest, which was probably for the best because your makeup wasn’t waterproof. And runny mascara? Not your best look.

When you looked up, Jimin’s unimpressed stare met you head on.

And, granted, choosing to go for a swim while he was cleaning the pool was not the smartest or most logical feat.

You weren’t here to swim, though. And Jimin knew it, too.

Jimin didn’t shy away from your gaze. On the contrary—he seemed to enjoy the scrutiny, preening. Your shameless admiration did nothing but stroke his already well inflated ego.

He raised his brow in your direction, half-expecting you to run away again. It felt like a challenge—one you were more than happy to take on.

In truth, you had been waiting for this opportunity.

Jimin didn’t disappoint. With a splash, he dived in and swam to your section. He stopped just short of you, close enough to clearly see the water trickling down his body in rivulets.

“Is this a hobby of yours?”

“Hm? What is?” He flicked his wet bangs to the side.

“Seducing married women.”

The smile he wore told you that he found your question amusing. “...Have I seduced you?”

His remark wasn’t enough to deter you. By now, you had gotten used to his teasing and it was getting easier to ignore his attempts at winding you up.

“Why do you do it? I’m sure you could have any young and pretty thing lining up to date you.” You genuinely wanted to know. Ever since you had met him and he had made his intentions clear as day, you had wondered why he’d ever bother chasing married women. What did he expect from it? Love? Money? Was this just something to pass the time? Or was this a way to prove his sexual prowess and attractiveness?

Life had taught you that nothing in the world came for free. There was always a price to be paid. Jimin seemed to have that lesson ingrained in him as well. It was in the way he carried himself with confidence, the way he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it.

In many ways, Jimin reminded you of yourself—or the self that had existed before your insecurities had made your outer layer crumble.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “But I’m not interested in dating any pretty, young thing. To be frank… Dating holds no interest for me. I’m not that kind of guy.”

“You’re just looking to wet your dick,” you translated.

“If I wanted to ‘wet my dick’,” he quoted with a roll of his eyes, “I could get that on campus. It’s not that hard to get laid when you look like I do.”

“Maybe you have a preference for cougars?”

“I’m serious. You of all people must know that relationships are about giving and taking. Compromise. I know what I can offer and what I’m willing to give up and none of those things people want.”

The honesty in his voice made you pause. You couldn’t claim to understand what he meant—because you didn’t. If he didn’t want sex and if he didn’t want a relationship, what did that leave? If it hadn’t been for the truth coloring his tone, you would have called him out for his bullshit.

“Seduce… I guess you could call it that... But it’s not as bad as you probably think it is.” His plush lips pressed into a thin line. “There’s no trickery to it. Every single person I get involved with knows what they’re getting into. I tell them what I’m willing to offer and they name their price. It’s a fair exchange, don’t you think?”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. You blinked in realization. “You’re saying you’re in this for the money?”

Jimin was quick to correct you. “It’s not always money. Apparently they think it’s crass to give cold hard cash, they think it diminishes my worth or something along those lines.” He smiled and shrugged. Your eyes strayed to the curve of his collarbones. “Personally I don’t mind either way. Gifts are gifts.”

Looking at him now, you could picture it. He was young and attractive, willing to entertain bored and unsatisfied housewives while their negligent husbands failed to keep them happy. You could see why they’d be enthusiastic to take him up on the offer—Park Jimin was charming in a way that made you hang onto his every word. It was the way he carried himself, the way he talked, the way he looked at you. He was hard to resist and he knew it.

“Sometimes it’s not even sexual,” he went on to explain. “I think… Some of them… They just seemed... Not sad. But, like. Lonely, you know? And some of them… Sometimes I don’t really do anything, nothing that crosses lines, nothing that would get my dick chopped off if their husband watched the CCTV footage. Really, what I do is not as salacious as you’re imagining… Most of it is quite tame.”

“Tame?” Jimin didn’t fit the definition of tame by a long shot. Your eyebrows scrunched up together, skepticism etched deeply onto your expression.

“Well. I’m hot,” Jimin stated, serious. “So that already takes care of half of it.”

You laughed, silently wondering how it was possible for a person to be so shameless. Although you supposed you weren’t one to talk. You were as vain as they came. It was just shocking to see someone not even try to fake modesty. The near perpetual smirk on his face would be insufferable on anyone else, but Jimin made it work in his favor.

“I don’t do anything special. Well, okay. Maybe I make a show out of cleaning the pool, but that’s about it.”

He glanced down at his choice of swimwear and you eventually caught on to what was insinuated. Much like the ones he had on during your last encounter, his swimwear seemed to be a size too small for him, hugging his thick thighs and putting his impressive muscles on display. Even the chastest person on the planet would have difficulty abstaining from ogling his build. Thirsty housewives wouldn’t stand a chance.

A half-naked, attractive man doing manual work? “I can see what you mean,” you agreed. “I don’t doubt your popularity among the married crowd.”

“Oh?” He tilted his chin so that he could stare at you through wet lashes. The water droplets gave the illusion that his eyes were framed by minuscule crystals. When he blinked, you couldn’t look away, spellbound. “Are you including yourself?”

Something in your expression made the shade of his irises burn to black, the heat in his eyes as smothering as burning hot coals. Your already unstable heart found it hard to function. It knocked loudly against your chest and you were afraid it would burst from the force of it.

As a last ditch effort to regain control of the situation, you hurriedly asked, “Do you have anything off limits? Or are you okay with doing anything?”

The string of questions broke the oppressing sexual tension that had threatened to consume you. His alluring expression shifted back to a neutral one.

“Depends on the person,” he answered after thinking it over, serious once again. “I can’t fake arousal. I’m either hard or I’m not, you know?”

“You’ve had sex with some of them before though, have you?”

“Yeah.” It was an easy admission. Jimin wasn’t boasting but he wasn’t ashamed of his past deeds either. “Not often and never off the bat, but yes. Can’t say that I haven’t.”

“Inside or outside the house?”

“Once inside the gardening shed, against the door. Wouldn’t recommend unless you fancy a trip to the hospital to remove all the splinters on your back. I’ve also done it in the bed they shared with their husband. That was...something.” The way he said it made it sound like the understatement of the century.

Before you could press, he continued, “Sex isn’t really something I’m up for all the time though. I’ve learned the hard way that it’s easy to let things get out of control...” A grimace, a pause, and then, “It’s easy for people to get confused. Feelings can develop and that’s... I’d rather avoid those complications if I can. There’s nothing fun about making women cry.”

It sounded like a warning.

You wondered how many times he had to reiterate his stance, how many times he had to draw lines and keep them clear to avoid breaking hearts. You wondered how much of his story was laced with truth and how much of it was twisted to deceive you.

How many before you had been presented with the same backstory? How many of them had let themselves be tempted by his proposition? It seemed like a good deal, after all. Who would be willing to refuse such a irresistible offer? You could only imagine how excited they had been at the prospect of having their appetite sated by such a young and handsome man.

You had never been under the illusion that your liaison would evolve into a whirlwind romance worthy of the greatest love songs. Unlike the countless others who had eagerly emptied out their purses just to get a taste of him, you had no plans on taming his wild heart. His love, his feelings—they weren’t what you were after.

“What’s something you’ve never done before?” you dared to ask, angling your head to peer up at him through your lashes. It was a good angle, one you knew from experience that worked.

“Never done? Well, let’s see...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve never kissed any of them. Properly, on the mouth.”

Your brow raised. You hadn’t expected that answer. Kissing did seem tame in comparison to the exploits he had previously listed. “How come?”

“It gets too personal, I guess.” Jimin refrained from elaborating any further. Not that he needed to—you could tell from the way he skirted around the question that kissing meant more to him than he would rather let on.

Immediately, you knew what you wanted.

“You said that you’d give me anything I ask for.”

Jimin wasn’t dumb; he quickly caught on.

“You want me to kiss you.” He tilted his head, a strange glint in his eyes. They flickered down to your mouth for the briefest of moments.

Your heart raced. A wary expression had crossed his face. Like he was finally seeing you differently—not as another conquest who would eat out of his hand and bend over backwards just to spend some time by his side, but acknowledging you as an equal who set her own terms and played by her own rules. A player, not a pawn.

Soon, the cautious attitude was replaced with excitement. Like the idea of playing a new game excited him.

"And what do I get in return?"

You blinked. Of course. It had been silly of you to think he'd give it up for free.

"What do you want?" You hadn't thought very far and your mind raced as it tried to find a suitable method of compensation. Expensive wristwatches, art work...

"I don't want anything you'd be willing to give anyone else." Jimin cut in, interrupting your inner musings. "I want something you'd only be willing to give your husband."

How very specific.

"I don't..." you trailed off, lost in thought. There was no time to question the nature of his request, not when your mind was caught up trying to find something, anything, that fit his criteria.

"I'll blow you."

You wet your lips. It was meant to be seductive but you were too nervous to properly pull it off.

Jimin raised a brow in response. It was impossible to tell if the answer was favorable or not, so you rambled on. "I've never... Since we started dating, the only... I've only been intimate with my husband.”

Until recently, was left unsaid. You weren’t sure if Hoseok counted. Maybe you should rephrase to avoid misunderstandings.

“I’ve never had... I’ve never sucked anyone else off.” There. Now you weren’t lying. “Even before Yoongi and I dated, I never did it that much. Not because—not because I don't enjoy it, but. I've always been more on the receiving end."

"You're a selfish lover," concluded Jimin, nodding in understanding like he hadn’t expected anything less.

You frowned. "I get that it sounds that way, but it's not! Sex doesn’t boil down to oral."

"Oh, I know," he smirked, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I'm intrigued... But who’s to say your oral skills will live up to my standards?"

"As far as I know, no one's left you a 5 star rating for your kissing skills." Huffing, you crossed your arms. In the back of your mind, you knew Jimin was poking fun at you in order to elicit a reaction, but you were too offended to care about how you were playing into his games.

A kiss for a blowjob? If you hadn’t been desperate for the latter, you would have denounced the unfair exchange.

Jimin leaned in, his fingers tilting your chin in the angle he wanted, and studied your face like he was committing your features to memory. He drank in your appearance, down to the flutter of your lashes, the parting of your lips, and the hitch in your breath when he bent his neck to close the distance.

There was something careful about his touch. Unlike the searing intensity behind his gaze, the press of his fingertips against your skin was careful, almost like he was handling glassware. Time seemed to move extremely slowly. He took his time, seemingly content with just cupping your chin between his fingers and admiring you.

For a moment, you thought he'd back out on his offer, not willing to part with the one thing he'd denied the string of conquests who had previously been in your shoes.

When Jimin pressed his lips against yours, you had to fight back the urge to gasp. His earlier demeanor had lulled you into a false sense of security. You had expected him to take his time, kisses gentle and slow-paced.

There was nothing of the sort—Jimin's kisses were hungry, insistent, and stole the breath out of your lungs with every press of his lips against your own.

Whenever he let up, you took the opportunity to gasp in a mouthful of air. The lack of oxygen was making your head spin, you vision blurring at the edges. You were slipping down a very slippery slope. The longer his mouth moved against yours, the quicker you felt all reason and sanity abandon you.

Jimin’s control never wavered. There were times when you tried to dictate the pace but he'd pinch your chin to keep you still.

A moan worked its way up your throat when he gave a particular hard suck to your bottom lip. Not knowing what to do with yourself, body overheating with lust, your fingernails dug into his shoulders in a last-ditch bid to ground yourself back to reality. Jimin growled in response, one of his hands tangling itself in your hair to tug at the strands. You stilled immediately, the show of dominance enough to make your body go limp in his hold.

When his tongue finally met yours, licking into your open mouth with fervor, it wiped your brain clean of all coherency, your mind now blissfully blank. There was only Jimin, only his heat melting against your own, only his scent enveloping you like a warm cocoon you never wanted to break out of. Eventually, though, he had to pull back for air and you almost whined in protest.

After all, who needed air? What use was breathing when you could be spending that time kissing him instead?

It took a while for the heavy fog to lift. When it did you noted that you were still slightly out of breath, your heartbeat erratic and deafening. Under any normal circumstances, you'd be embarrassed by how effortlessly he had turned your insides to gush.

You struggled to keep your eyes open as you craned your neck to look at him properly. You had no time to feel self-conscious, however. Jimin's erotic appearance was much more interesting.

His lips were swollen a dark pink hue that perfectly complimented the flush high on his cheeks. It was a pretty sight, but nothing comapred to the deep pools of lust that stared back at you. Jimin looked like he could swallow you whole with his stare alone.

Your entire body trembled at the prospect of him carrying out the silent promise. In fear or anticipation—you did not know yet. You had barely survived his kiss. What were you going to do if he had his way with you? Now you understood why Jimin kept himself at an arm's reach from all of his suitors. His touch was lethal, designed and weaponized to make his unsuspecting victims fall deep into trance. Once you got involved with him, there was no coming back out of it the same. He was like a ruthless drug. One hit and that was all it took for your body to become hooked to the feeling. If you had any more, you'd stay addicted for the rest of your life, whether you wanted to or not.

Jimin was dangerous. Even in your prime, you had never been this powerful. The worst part was that he knew it. He wielded his charm with expertise, knew exactly how much to give to make you weak at the knees. You had only had a taste of him and yet your body thrummed with a burning need for more.

Thankfully, his needs mirrored yours. You didn’t have to wait long for him to hoist himself onto the ledge of the pool, the lean muscles of his arms flexing as he dragged his body out of the water with the grace of a panther. In the blink of an eye he had shucked off his sodden swim trunks and placed the wet material under him as a cushion.

You gulped, feeling almost bashful. It was...a lot to take in. It felt almost wrong to ogle at him now that he was stark naked.

Unaware of your embarrassment, Jimin puffed out his chest, shameless as ever. With a smirk plastered on his face, he patted his thick thigh and nodded in your direction.

“C’mre.” He spread his knees, cock hanging heavy between his thighs. “Time to be a good host and return the favor.”

You waddled closer before your brain could talk you out of it, mesmerized by the sight in front of you.

Jimin’s dick was—for lack of better terms—pretty. He was thick, not too long or too veiny, and pink at the head. He kept his pubic hair neatly trimmed, the dark patch standing out against golden skin.

Weeks ago you would have never thought twice about sucking off a man who wasn’t Yoongi. Yet here you were, mouth watering at the prospect of Jimin filling up your mouth.

You had Yoongi to thank for that.

For the briefest moment, you let yourself imagine the look on Yoongi’s face if he walked in on you right now. Even if you had an idea, it was hard to predict what his reaction would be...

Jimin’s croon yanked you back to reality. “Let me see what you can do. No hands, sweetheart. Show me what you got.”

The look aimed your way was full of expectation.

Not one to disappoint, your lips automatically stretched around his girth. You suckled the tip and sighed in contentment as he slowly plumped up against the flat of your tongue

God, you had missed sucking dick. You hadn’t been lying earlier when you had confessed how much you enjoyed it. There was something exhilarating about making a man go putty in your hands—or mouth. No matter how much they thought they had control over the situation, the reality was that you had them by their cock.

Drool pooled in your mouth, spilling at the corners, but Jimin didn’t seem to mind the mess. If anything, the visual made him impossibly harder. He hummed low in his throat as his heavy erection throbbed on your tongue, and ran a hand over your face to feel the sizable bulge poking your cheek.

“You look so gorgeous like this, stuffed full from my cock.” He grinned down at you with all the self-satisfaction of someone getting his dick sucked. “Really fucking pretty.”

One of his thumbs traced patterns over your cheekbones and you felt your face warm. The action was almost...sweet. And it most definitely felt out of place in this context.

The tender moment was broken the instant his length hit the back of your throat. You gagged, the choked sound loud enough to drown out his deep groan of appreciation.

It was with great reluctance that he let you pull back to catch your breath. You coughed, slightly embarrassed that you were so out of form.

He reached out to break the thin string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to his weeping cock. He smoothed his coated fingers over your lips, smearing the excess saliva and his precum all over your mouth and cheeks with the focus of a painter hard at work.

The sight made his lower belly sing with satisfaction. And still, he wanted more.

Jimin took a minute to appreciate your less than perfect appearance. He was so used to seeing you with perfectly applied lipstick and coiffed hair, that seeing you so disheveled made something in his stomach kick. His thoughts ran wild. He was hit with a primal desire to ruin you, mark you up and leave the imprint of his dick in your throat so you’d remember him long after this was over.

“Wanna see you choke yourself on my cock,” he grunted, his member twitching at the thought. “Think you can do that for me?”

Instead of a verbal reply, you leaned it to plant a kiss on the flushed head of his erection, kissing down his hard length until your mouth reached the base of it. When you looked up, his gaze was darker than the night skies.

A shudder ran through your body, from the crown of your head all the way down to the tips of your toes. He never broke his gaze, the weight of it pressing down on you like a security blanket.

When you took one of his balls into your mouth, wet and messy just like you suspected he liked it, his hands shot up to rake through your hair. They pulled at the strands but not hard enough to stop you. Conflict warred on his face, unsure if he wanted you stop or not.

“You’re fucking nasty,” he rasped when you gave a particular hard suck, your cheeks hollowing around his sack. “I love it. Who would’ve fucking thought that I’d land such a good slut?”

Your moan was muffled, slightly distorted, but he heard it all the same. His eyes curved into crescents. “You like that, huh?”

He abandoned the grip he had on your hair in order to enclose his fingers around his length instead.

“Show me your tongue. Yeah, like that.” He bit down on his bottom lip when you flawlessly executed his command. Jimin kept you like that for a while, your tongue hanging out and waiting on him like an obedient dog. He seemed in no hurry to get the show on the road, content with observing while he fisted his cock in lazy strokes. It was humiliating but your core had never felt this on fire.

Saliva pooled in your mouth and threatened to overflow. Just when it started to trickle down the sides of your open mouth, Jimin fed you his meaty cock as a reward.

“Now show me what a good slut is capable of.”

It was all the motivation you needed to take him as deep as your throat allowed. Your throat, unaccustomed to the stretch and burn, had difficulty adjusting. Patiently, Jimin let you to take all the time you needed. Determined to perform well, you worked on his cock until he was all you could taste and smell.

Jimin was a lot more vocal than what you had imagined. It was a pleasant surprise. Guys usually held back - refused to give up that semblance of control - but Jimin’s ego was far from fragile. Whenever you swallowed he sucked in a quick breath of air, and when the muscles in your throat clamped down around his length he hissed out deep groans, their low timbre sending shivers down your back.

You paid close attention to his reactions and cataloged them. And that feeling - of having to learn someone’s ticks - was one that you hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Maybe if the circumstances had permitted it, you would have explored that feeling, questioned what it meant and why you enjoyed it. As it was, you were valiantly trying not to make unattractive whale sounds every time Jimin’s fat cock jabbed the back of your throat.

It seemed like ages before your throat finally relaxed enough to take him all the way down to the hilt. Jimin kept a firm hand on top of your head, not exerting enough pressure to lock you in place, but the implication was there.

“Fuck.” His balls ached, feeling like they were about to burst. The closer he approached climax, the more his tongue ran loose. “You take it so good, make me feel so fucking good. Choke on my fat cock—just like that. A little longer, c’mon, I know you can take it. Good girl. God, you’re so—oh fuck!”

The muscles in the back of your throat had closed up and you gagged from lack of air. Eyes glassy from unshed tears, you struggled to not clamp down your teeth on his dick as your body was pushed to its limits. Only Jimin’s moans of ecstasy kept you from pulling back too soon—that and the deathly tight grip in your hair.

“Your mouth should be illegal.” Mercifully he let you catch your breath. The respite was brief. Your lungs burned but you had no time to do anything about it before he used the grip in your hair to slam you back down his length.

If you had been able to set the pace before, there was no possibility of that now. Jimin used your mouth like he was paying for it, his rhythm fast-paced and erratic. The rough treatment should have provoked objection and a litany of protests but to your shame and surprise, there was not a fiber in your body that wanted to stop.

You knew that Jimin was nearing his end long before he announced it. He tried to keep the shakiness out of his voice, but there was no hiding the signs of his impending orgasm.

Jimin hissed out a few last obscenities, his tongue stumbling to get out the words as his entire body tensed up like a volcano about to erupt. “Better swallow it all, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want to dirty the pool I worked so hard to clean, now would you? That wouldn’t be very nice…”

You sucked harder in reply, your tongue pressed up against a sensitive vein near the head of his dick. The hold on your hair tightened and he groaned in ecstasy, pleasure wracking his entire frame. “’Atta girl. You’re gonna take me right down your throat. Gonna show me how well you take it? Prove to me that you’re a good girl ‘til the end, hnn?”

Bitterness coated your tongue before he could finish formulating his question. It flooded your mouth in thick spurts.

Yoongi had always claimed that your greed was boundless when it came to cum. You were only proving his words to be true by swallowing everything down in large gulps. It was a bit on the depraved side—you knew some of your friends wouldn’t swallow semen even if they got paid millions for it—but you loved it. You sucked him down until you were certain that he had nothing left to give you.

“So fucking greedy.” Jimin huffed out a laugh and eased you off when the stimulation became too painful to bear. “Knew the moment I met you that you were just gagging for a taste. Look at you… Don’t even need to tell you to clean me off.”

Now that you were no longer caught up in the moment, it was easier to think straight. Arousal still pulsed between your legs but it had been dulled, no longer screaming for attention.

“My husband taught me well.”

Jimin raised a brow, mouth splitting into a grin. “Maybe I should thank him.”

“That would be the polite thing to do.” Would it? What protocol should be followed after face-fucking your boss’s wife? “Though I think Yoongi should be the one thanking you.”

“Hmm.” Jimin chose not to question. Less questions, meant less involvement and he hadn’t been lying when he had said that he liked to keep his distance. Even without the questions, Jimin was perceptive enough to pick up on the unsaid. The look on your face told him everything he needed to know. “You like him a lot, that elusive husband of yours.”

“Would I be here if I didn’t?” you said, making him pause.

For once, Jimin found himself at a loss for words.

There was something disconcerting about your smirk that had his stomach twisting in knots. It was not the look he expected to see. Instead of the residual yearning and disappointment, there was nothing but satisfaction written on your face. It bothered him for a reason he could not quite grasp.

Without really knowing how or why, Jimin's instincts told him that he had been played at his own game.

{MONDAY. 10.32 am}

“It’s today, isn’t?”

You kept the phone pressed close to your ear by raising your shoulder into an exaggerated shrug. Your hands were otherwise occupied, one of them taking out a hair roller, the other applying a deep red color onto the soft pillow of your lips.

It was hard work—one wrong move would stain the skin around your mouth. On any other day, you wouldn’t dare rush, but today there was no time to erase and reapply. You were on a tight schedule. Luckily for you, you had the art of multitasking down to a T.

On the other side of the line, Bogum replied to your inquiry. You hummed in a distracted manner, too busy observing your reflection for any imperfections.

Satisfied with your handwork, you smacked your lips together. Red was the perfect choice. Femme fatales like Marilyn and Brigitte would be proud.

“He left so early this morning I wasn’t even able to wish him luck. Do you happen to know when he’ll be done? He won’t be home before... Ah - I see. Okay, yes, of course I will. No, that’ll be all, thank you Mr. Park. I will, thank you. Have a nice day.”

After casting one last pleased once-over at your reflection in the vanity mirror, you made your way to the conservatory with all the smugness of someone who knew that they were in for the fuck of their life.

And there was no better candidate for the job than Kim Seokjin.

Equipped with model-like proportions and a face that belonged on the silver screen, he was the epitome of beauty. Renaissance artists would have begged on their knees to replicate his good looks on canvas. You knew, however, just by looking at his perfectly symmetrical features, that someone as physically perfect as Kim Seokjin was incapable of being duplicated. Renowned and prestigious painters would have struggled to capture the aura he radiated, their painted renditions crude imitations of the real thing.

His presence alone inspired adulation. With that kind of face, it was probably common occurrence that throngs of women - and men - threw themselves reverently at his feet like he was a god and the world was his temple.

In other words—Seokjin was unworldly beautiful.

...And he also had the ego to match it.

In that aspect, he reminded you of Jimin. They were both individuals who would never settle for sub-par fucks, even if their lives depended on it.

Seokjin was well aware of his worth and he probably thought himself deserving of the best. Unlike Jimin, he had no interest in playing games. You knew that with him, there would be no give and take, no push and pull, no ploys of seduction. If he liked what he saw enough, he’d bite. If he didn’t, he’d turn up his nose and move on to the next best thing.

Maybe the past few days had gone to your head, filling you with undeserved confidence, but you were convinced that he wouldn’t turn you down. Not when you had on your fuck-me-heels and a dress you knew for a fact made your ass look fantastic.

You looked fucking good. In the past an outfit like this would have been sufficient incentive for Yoongi to bend you over the nearest piece of furniture and fuck you silly until your legs turned to jello and you forgot what day of the month it was.

If it had once worked on Yoongi – the toughest stone to crack – then Seokjin would most likely break as easily. As monumental as his ego was, Seokjin wasn’t an impenetrable fortress.

Still…you had expected a bit more resistance than the reality you were met with. When you had asked him whether he’d fancy taking a break, your tone unmistakably suggestive, Seokjin had proceeded to ditch the protective gloves and cleaning equipment, not needing to be asked twice, and had promptly followed you into the house with the enthusiasm of a puppy promised a treat.

As soon as you had crossed the threshold, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off of you. Large hands groped whatever handfuls of flesh they were able to reach, zealous in their exploration. You giggled at his blatant impatience. All of your assumptions were proved right—Seokjin was undoubtedly accustomed to getting whatever he wanted, when he wanted. He took without hesitation, his movements bold and unabashed.

You had to physically pull him down the hallway in order to get him to move. If he had his way, he would have probably taken you right there against the wall, too impatient to bother with the removal of clothes.

“In here?” he gawked, his eyes darting around the room in alarm. “You want to fuck on your husband’s bed.”

You huffed out an amused breath. “It’s my bed, too. Where did you expect me to bring you, the rooftop?”

Seokjin paused, considering. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed around an invisible knot of nerves.

In the background, only the quiet whir of a ceiling fan could be heard. If you listened hard enough, you’d probably be able to hear the conflicting thoughts warring through his mind.

Inwardly, you rolled your eyes. What kind of skewered sense of moral righteousness was this? He was fine fucking his boss’s wife but not in his bed?

Seokjin didn’t take too long to arrive at the same conclusion.

“Alright,” he said, mind made up. Any trace of hesitation had been erased from his eyes, replaced only by fiery resolve. “Let’s get it.”

“I—” you opened your mouth and then closed it.

You had forgotten what it was like to fuck around with fratboys. It brought you back to a time when the only available guys around you were as vapid as they were handsome. It came without saying that hooking up with the star players on the football team had come with its perks—like their short refractory periods and unbeatable stamina. But all in all, the list of cons had outweighed the pros, and you had come to the conclusion that fifteen minutes of sex with a hot guy wasn’t worth the pain of being bored out of your mind.

Meeting Yoongi had been a breath of much needed fresh air. You still recalled the elation and excitement of meeting someone so sophisticated and worldly. College kids couldn’t hold a candle to him.

Seokjin bent down and kissed you.

You had been so engrossed in your thoughts that the feeling of his lips against your own did not register at first. But Seokjin was insistent and refused to be ignored. He worked his mouth against yours, tongue hot and probing the seam of your mouth.

Instinctively, you gave in to his advances, your body responding before your brain had the chance to catch up. His plush lips were soft and tasted slightly of coconut. Most importantly, they were experienced in the art of kissing. Seokjin kissed you fervently, tongue swiping against yours, determined to elicit as many moans as he could from you.

“That’s better,” he said between two pants. “I want you like this.”

You hummed, slightly dazed. “Like what?”

In lieu of an answer, Seokjin cupped your cheek and angled your head to the side so that he could kiss you deeper.

You had no opportunity to demand a verbal reply—not when his mouth kept you otherwise occupied. As the seconds stretched on, you felt yourself go weak in the knees. If it wasn’t for the firm hold he had around your waist, bracing you against his concrete-hard chest, you were certain you’d have already crumpled into an inelegant heap on the floor.

Hours or minutes could have elapsed—you had no clue. It was only when Seokjin pulled up for air that time seemed to regain its true course. You blinked away the spots dotting your vision, the world slowly coming back into focus.

“Yeah, like this,” Seokjin smiled down at you, pleased with what he saw. “I want you like this—thinking only of me, no one else. I’m the only one you’ll ever think of after this, won’t I?”

You cleared your throat, not trusting your voice. Seokjin raised an eyebrow like he expected an answer and you obliged, albeit a bit wobbly. “I’m not sure that’ll be enough to get me to remember you.”

Seokjin laughed. You could feel it rumble in his chest, so loud was his amusement. “You only say that because you haven’t been with a man like me. Once I give it to you, you’ll never think about another cock again.”

You tilted your head as if unconvinced. You had heard variants of the same promise over the years and had learned not to hold anyone to their word.

“What do you need?” Seokjin cajoled. “Tell me what you need from me and I’ll give it to you, babygirl.”

“I need a cock in me.” The ache between your legs was becoming unbearable.

He exhaled sharply, not expecting you to be so blunt. “Fuck, okay.”

One of his hands reached down for the silver buckle of his belt but the nervous buzz thrumming through his body made him clumsy. After a few seconds of fumbling with the button of his jeans, you joined in to help. His impatience seemed to have rubbed off on you because you found that you had no use for unnecessary prolongations. As crude as the thought was, you needed to be fucked. Preferably sooner than later.

“Shit.” His jaw clenched just as your hand squeezed around his length.

“You’re so big, what the fuck.” You palmed his girth once again, just to confirm your initial assessment. And—yep. He was fucking packing.

So he really had hit the genetic jackpot. Huh, you intoned, not really surprised by the discovery. Some people really did have all the luck in the world.

You fell to your knees unceremoniously. The polished floorboards dug into your shins but you were quick to dismiss the discomfort, too taken by the sizable length in front of your face. It wasn’t impressively thick, but the length was just right. Your thighs tightened as you imagined how well it could fill you up.

Impatience got the best of you and you spit into your palm, too lazy to go grab the lube from the bedside table. You used both hands to work his member to stiffness, occasionally leaning forward to spit onto his growing erection, the excess saliva easing the glide of skin on skin.

“Fuck, keep going. Get me ready to fuck you.” The sound of his voice made you glance up for the first time.

From this angle, Seokjin positively towered above you.

God, you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree.

Lust pumped through your veins, warming you from the inside out. Seeing him so affected made you re-double your efforts. The only thought crossing your mind right then was how much you wanted to see him to fall apart.

You twisted your hand with every upstroke, paying extra attention to the sensitive underside near the head of his cock. Every time you let your thumb stroke that particular area, Seokjin’s hips thrust forward of their own accord, a muffled groan of satisfaction making its way past his lips before he could swallow them down.

As much as he tried to appear unaffected, you could tell that he was slowly but surely being worn down. His hands balled into fists at his sides, nails digging white crescents onto the surface of his skin in an attempt to reign in his raging desires.

When you reached down to play with his balls, Seokjin decided that he had had enough.

Yanking you up by the arm, he manhandled you onto the bed, lifting you around like you weighed next to nothing. The perfectly ironed Egyptian cotton sheets crinkled under your weight but you couldn’t care less. By the end of the night, those wrinkles would be the least of your concerns.

“You sure about this, right?” He asked while kicking his pants and briefs all the way off. The rest of his clothes followed suit, and you gulped audibly as he revealed his broad shoulders, chiseled chest and slim waist in all their glorious nakedness. “Once I start I won’t hold back… And I’m not sure you’re ready for the fuck of your life.”

“Yes! I need a cock so bad. Please.”

Ignoring your whiny pleas, he bent his torso over the edge of the bed, blindly searching through the discarded clothes piled up on the floor.

“Condom. Where the fuck did I—Aha!” He grinned triumphantly when he found the foil packet in the back pocket of his jeans.

“I don’t need it,” you cut in before he ripped it open. “I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

“Wha— Are you serious?” Momentarily stunned, he gaped down at you, condom wrapper still clutched between his fingers. “You want me to raw you.”

His crude phrasing made you squirm. “I like the feeling of cum in my pussy…” You felt your cheeks flame at the confession. “If you’re clean then please don’t use it.”

Seokjin chewed his bottom lip, visibly lost in thought.

“Please? Want to feel you fill me to the brim.” His eyes flashed. You knew you had him, then.

When he spoke next, it was more out courtesy than due to indecisiveness. “What about Mr. Min?”

“What about me?” a familiar voice cut through the air.

You both startled, heads whipping towards the doorway. Except, unlike you, Seokjin recoiled, stumbling back like he had been burnt by a hot iron, his hands seizing the nearest pillow to cover up his modesty. From an outside perspective it must have been quite the sight.

“Oh please don’t stop on my account. Keep going, we were just getting to the good part,” Yoongi said coolly as he crossed his arms over his chest. He was still in his work clothes but had lost his suit jacket somewhere along the way. His white dress shirt was rolled up at the sleeves and your eyes were instantly drawn to his arms. One of the corners of his mouth twitched when he took note of your interest but his face remained otherwise blank, giving nothing away.

“W-what?” Seokjin gulped, any of his earlier bravado gone.

"Did I stutter?" Yoongi’s tone was monotone, almost bored. But his eyes—they told a whole different story. They pierced right through you, pinning you in place. Not that there was anywhere else you'd rather be than here, right now, with him, in this bedroom. You had been waiting for this moment for so long that the anticipation was killing you.

His cold gaze slid back over to Seokjin as he silently seized him up. "Well? Didn't I hear you say you were going to give my wife 'the fuck of her life'?" Yoongi's words were twisted with sarcasm. It was evident that he was looking down on Seokjin, his tone nothing but straight up condescending.

The way they talked about you like you weren’t even in the room should have been off-putting but for now you preferred to watch the scene unfold without interfering. There would be plenty of time to play later.

"What? Can't put your money where your mouth is?" Yoongi scoffed and leaned back against the wooden doorframe, feigning disappointment.

Seokjin bristled, deeply offended.

Internally, it dawned on you that this might be the first time someone had so openly challenged Seokjin. You knew guys like him—they were used to getting their way, used to being showered in constant praise, used to people coming back and begging for seconds, so thirsty for more they’d settle for scraps. Yoongi contempt had probably knocked Seokjin out of his orbit, rattling the latter to the core.

"You think I can't pleasure her?" he dared ask, eyebrows inflexed. His attempt at intimidation would have been more efficient had he not been the only one naked, you observed from the sidelines.

"Go on." Yoongi waved his hand, looking like he couldn't care less. "I'd like to see you try."

The clear disregard made Seokjin's jaw tick. His heavy brow furrowed. For the first time since Yoongi's presence was made known, Seokjin rounded on you, his normally honey brown irises now a murky, indescribable color.

You shuddered, high on the feeling of being the subject of both of their attention.

The air crackled with electricity, the tension escalating by the second, and you realized that playtime had arrived faster than anticipated.

Seokjin approached you, much like a lion stalking his prey. You couldn't help but notice the determined glint in his eye, the confidence he wore unfailingly till the end. In his mind, he was going to win. He had no doubt about it. You were going to bend to his will and cum hard on his tongue just like the countless others had before you.

You almost felt bad for him.

Maybe... Maybe if you had met him years ago, things would have gone exactly like how Seokjin pictured it in his head. But what he failed to realize was that he was in Yoongi's den, playing by Yoongi's rules.

And your husband? He never started anything he knew he wouldn't be able to finish. That was the business man in him. He measured the risks and calculated the cost before any operation, thus ensuring that he would never be beaten.

It was easy to tell by his relaxed posture that he really did view Seokjin as a non-threat.

You had known, of course, that he had never considered losing as an option. Yoongi had been the one to propose this particular game in the first place, after all. Even if it was a first for the both of you, he must have known that the stakes would always remain in his favor.

“Ready?” The mattress dipped under his weight. Seokjin crawled over you, kneeling so that his legs bracketed yours. There was a fire in his eyes that hadn’t been there fifteen minutes ago. He looked like a man with something to prove.

Inadvertently, your gaze flitted back to the doorway, searching for Yoongi’s. You wanted to see his face, needed to see how he’d react to another man touching you.

“Eyes up here.” Reluctantly, you followed Seokjin’s instructions. He noticed your pout right away. “When I’m through with you, you won’t even remember you’re married.”

Gutsy. Your head turned to catch Yoongi’s reaction but Seokjin stopped you by leaning down to kiss you full on the lips.

It was a strange feeling. Usually, you shut out the rest of the world, attention solely focused on the pair of lips moving against your own, but instead you felt hyper-aware of every little thing going on around you, ears straining as you tried to figure out what Yoongi was up to.

Seokjin nipped your swollen lip, unhappy with how your mind kept drifting. You tried to make a more conscious effort and show more interest, running your hands up and down his arms and letting out puffs of air whenever his hands ghosted over a ticklish area of your body.

Now that you had become a more active participant, you had finally begun to appreciate the slow pace Seokjin had built up. Contrary to your expectations, he hadn’t shoved his horse dick into you and hammered away. He took his time with you, making a show out of it. You couldn’t say you disliked it.

Okay, so, admittedly your expectations had been pretty low to begin with... But you were quickly seeing the errors of your ways. And, in your personal opinion, it was always better to be pleasantly surprised than the opposite.

Yoongi did not share the sentiment.

It was the first time a stranger had been invited into your shared bedroom. Seeing another man settled against the pillows he slept on at night wasn’t a sight he had ever imagined he’d see—let alone enjoy.

And for a while, he let himself watch without intruding in on the scene, a foreign and inexplicable feeling rooting him to the spot. Yoongi had no name for it but the longer he played spectator, the more intense the emotion became.

Beneath the alien feeling, he detected arousal and although he wasn’t sure what exactly he found exciting about the sight in front of him, a ball of desire coiled tightly at the base of his spine.

Objectively, both of you looked beautiful together. Your words had not done Seokjin’s beauty justice. When he looked at the pair of you intertwined, it was like watching a high quality Hollywood movie. But Yoongi knew that his arousal wasn’t just surface level. It ran deeper than that.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he goaded, needing to confirm his suspicions. “You should get her ready to take cock. She hasn’t been fucked in a while, so she’ll be tight.”

He saw how his words made you squirm and smothered a smirk. He couldn’t wait to deal with you.

When Seokjin looked up to meet his gaze, Yoongi was surprised to see incredulity present in the brown of his eyes.

“Wait.” He swallowed, suddenly losing the confidence he had sported earlier. “Y-you’re actually serious about this?”

Ah. Yoongi suspected that the slow pace hadn’t been because Seokjin had wanted to enjoy his wife, but because he had been waiting for Yoongi to jump in and put a premature end to all of this.

“Looks like you really were all talk. But what else should I have expected from some college grad student…”

Provoking him into action proved to be too easy. The line of Seokjin’s mouth hardened and he renewed his previous efforts. He grew bolder, hands deliberately reaching for your breasts to squeeze them through the expensive material of your dress. The kiss became sloppier as well, losing all finesse. From what Yoongi could see, there was less technique, but more tongue and teeth.

Whatever fire Yoongi had lit inside him had made him careless.

Yoongi’s pointed stare never strayed. As if sensing the scrutiny directed his way, Seokjin fumbled with his movements, eager to prove but too frenzied to actually accomplish anything.

By the looks of it, he wouldn’t be able to find your clitoris even it was drawn on a map with the step by step instructions attached. Yoongi would find the whole situation laughable if he wasn’t so affronted on your behalf.

“Do you know how to fuck a woman or not?” he spat out, exasperated.

“Just a minute, I’m—”

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” Yoongi interrupted, his curt tone leaving no room for argument. He loosened up his tie with one hand as he continued, voice sharp, “Go sit up by the headboard and don’t even think of moving. That means no touching your dick, either.”

There was a tense moment of silence as Seokjin gaped at him, his eyes wide as he tried to quickly process the rapid turn of events.

"I won't force you to stay. It's your call. But if you choose to play with us, you're abiding by my rules."

Seokjin looked like he wanted to argue and put up a fight and for half a second, you really thought that he would. Yoongi took his silence as a favorable answer, certain that the younger man wouldn't leave.

“I’m feeling generous tonight so I’ll let you watch. You can think of it as a learning experience. I’ll even show you how to make my slut soak the sheets.” A smile curved his lips, taunting. “And maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you lick it up. How’s that sound?”

Yoongi raised his brow in challenge and that was all it took for Seokjin to slowly make his way to the edge of the bed, his back hitting the mahogany wood with a dull thud.

Yoongi liked to think he was a reasonable man.

He was fine with a lot of things—you maxing out his credit cards on ridiculously expensive items of clothing that you never wore more than once, you taking out his newest car for a spin in the big city without permission, you spending an extra thirty minutes on your hair and makeup when he was running late for a dinner function.

What he was not okay with, however, was you sharing your pussy with barely-out-of-college boys who were incapable of going five seconds without creaming their pants.

No, that was where he drew the line.

You were a woman with standards. You had married him, not some pretty-faced fratboy, had you not? If that wasn’t sufficient proof, then what was?

As vain and prideful as it sounded, Yoongi refused to be put on the same level of the other men who chased after you. Unlike those men who salivated over you like a piece of quality meat, he knew exactly what you wanted and what you needed.

In the bedroom, a voice in the back of his mind corrected. You only know what she wants in the bedroom.

Yoongi swallowed, forcing the sudden feeling of inadequacy down his throat. He had failed you on that end. Old habits were hard to kill and he had learned of the consequences the hard way.

It had always been like that. Even as a kid, Yoongi liked rationality and reasoning, preferring numbers to the abstract. Equations had solutions, emotions did not. Before he had met you, every little thing he did had answered logic’s call. He woke up because he had to get to work. He ate because his body needed the energy to survive.

He was so used to fending for himself, of thinking of himself as a unit, that sometimes he forgot that his actions affected others as well. In retrospect, his lack of empathy had most likely been the root of the reason why all of his previous relationships had failed miserably.

People had never stayed long enough to work the issues out. Maybe they figured that he was too anchored in his habits to change or too emotionless to understand. There was also the financial imbalance that factored in and despite Yoongi’s verbal reassurances, none of it had helped. It was…uncomfortable, to say the least. His previous partners had never dared voice out their concerns and worries and Yoongi hated it, hated feeling like he was using his money to keep people in his life, no matter how miserable they clearly felt on the inside.

With you, it was different.

Yoongi reached the foot of the bed and met your honest gaze. Something squeezed his heart tightly and refused to let go. Despite all his flaws, you had stayed. Not out of obligation or monetary obsession—but out of love.

Love…was hard to define. Every time he thought he knew what it meant, it turned out he didn’t. But as he stood there with you finally at an arm’s reach, he thought he felt the emotion beating against his rib cage, making a home in his chest.

“Yoongi.” Your fingers twitched at your side, like they wanted to reach out for him but weren’t sure if they were allowed to.

When he draped himself over your body and interlaced his fingers with yours, it was as if something inside him finally locked into place.

“My love.” Your pulse jumped at the term of endearment. He liked using it ever since you had let slip that none of your previous lovers had ever called you that way. Even if you had initially complained that it made him sound like a fifty year old man, he knew you enjoyed it by the way your body never failed to respond. “I’ve made you wait long enough.”

He meant it in more ways than one. Yoongi was ready to give you everything, body and soul. He belonged to you.

“Are you going to do something about it?” You held your breath and waited for his answer, anticipation turning you into a squirming mess against the sheets.

“This dress brings back many memories,” he said instead, pointer finger tracing down the line of your cleavage. From this distance, Yoongi could count every single beauty mark that speckled your skin. His memory supplied images of himself licking and connecting each dot, the hot drag of his tongue leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. His mouth hungered for a taste but Yoongi curbed the desire before it had the chance to cloud his judgment. “Although I thought I had ruined it beyond saving a long time ago.”

“Your black card bought me a new one.”

Yoongi snorted, the unrefined sound breaking his cool façade. “Let’s get it off you. As much as I adore it, it looks better on the ground.”

“Take what’s yours.”

Yoongi wasted not a second more, the hurried movements of his hands conveying his burning arousal. With deft fingers, he found the zipper of your dress and pulled, watching with satisfaction as inch after inch of naked skin was exposed.

“Naughty slut.” His eyes narrowed as he admired your exposed body. Yoongi forced himself to keep his hands still at his sides even though he was dying to relieve his painful erection from the tight confines of his briefs. “Are you always bare under your clothes?”

“The lines…” you mumbled and trailed off. “My dress is so tight that my bra and panties show if I wear any.”

Yoongi scoffed, forcing his eyebrows into an expression of disbelief. “So you’re not okay with strangers seeing the outline of your thong, but fine with them ogling your hard nipples? Why? That desperate for them to know what a horny wife I have?”

“I wouldn’t be this horny if you fucked me more often.” You glared.

A beat of silence passed before Yoongi unlocked his jaw. “We’ll have to do something about that mouth later. Seems like a lesson on manners is in order.”

“Counting on it, sir,” was your cheeky answer.

Yoongi’s hand came down with a crack. He watched as your whole body jolted from the impact. “Hands and knees. No, the other way. Face our guest. Since you like showing off your tits so much, here’s another perfect opportunity to do so.”

In your haste to follow his orders, you stumbled several times, knees knocking together as you readjusted yourself to his whims. Without needing to be told, you spread out your legs and arched your back, leaving the most intimate parts of you completely exposed for his viewing pleasure. If he wanted to take you right then, there was nothing stopping him from doing so.

Seokjin was all but forgotten at this point. He could have left the room and Yoongi wouldn’t have noticed—or cared. His vision had tunneled, his entire world narrowed down to the sight of you presenting yourself just like a good whore should. It seemed like you were equally affected, if not more. Yoongi spread your cheeks so that he could fully appreciate the view of your drenched pussy. If he had ever doubted your arousal, your slick thighs, shiny with your juices, and swollen lips were enough proof to dispel such uncertainties.

“You’re all mine to take,” he said in a soft growl.

He knelt behind you and ran his hands up the back of your sticky thighs. This position left him at the perfect height to eat you out. His mouth watered at the prospect of finally having his fill. Too long had he deprived himself of a delicious meal… It was time to fix that.

You moaned the instant his finger came into contact with your rapidly hardening clit. Your feeble attempts at shoving your hips back for more were thwarted by Yoongi's strong grip on your thigh, the rough pads of his fingertips bruising the soft skin in warning. It took a herculean effort to keep still but you somehow managed, knowing that your obedience would pay off.

Yoongi liked to enjoy his meals. He took his time with you, playing with the abundance of wetness that had collected between your thighs, dragging his digits across your velvety folds.

He loved taking you this way. With you offered up to him ass up and legs spread, he could really get into it, mouth and hands dictating the pace without your interference. There was nothing you could do save for holding open your cheeks and plead for more.

Sometimes—when he felt merciful—he indulged you. But he could not deny that there was something infinitely more satisfying when he drew out your pleasure until you shook and cried with need.

“Mhmm.” His groan echoed yours as he slid in his ring finger into your hot cunt. You were so aroused that the stretch could hardly be felt. “Snug and wet. S’gonna be a tight fit when I open you up with my cock later.”

The unspoken promise of cock made your walls squeeze around his finger and Yoongi groaned again as he imagined how amazing you’d feel around his painful erection instead of his hand.

For now, he pushed the ache aside. The only one that mattered right now was you.

He flattened his tongue and let it drag across your folds, moaning as the taste of you flooded his mouth. Fuck. It wasn’t enough, he thought frantically. As he continued to lick into you like a man starved, he wondered how he could ever possibly tire of your taste. How he had managed to stay away from it all this time was a mystery he had yet to solve.

Your cries of pleasure grew louder as his tongue fucked into you, sampling the snugness of your walls for what would come later. Wetness dripped down his chin but he could care less about the mess you made. He kept licking it up, not wanting to stop for a single second, only pulling off whenever his lungs burned from lack of air.

Attuned to your body and its needs, he felt every tremor and hitch of breath. Whenever he sensed your heart rate kick up, he slowed down and changed the tempo. He kept you on the edge like that for several long minutes, building you up only to bring you back to zero.

Finally, he pulled back, ignoring the betrayed cry he ripped from your throat, and wiped the shine off his chin with the back of his hand. The taste of you was still heavy on his tongue and he couldn’t help but lick his lips clean in satisfaction. Nothing pleased him more than feasting between your legs and it would be a lie to say that he hadn’t missed it terribly.

A creak of the mattress distracted him. Seokjin shifted uncomfortably, his erection prominent. By the looks of it, he had been hard for a rather long time. Yoongi was pleased to see that Seokjin had stayed true to his word—his hands were obediently shoved under the meat of his thighs to prevent himself from touching himself.

Yoongi had been so focused on the five-star meal nestled between your thighs that he had forgotten his manners.

“Darling, it’s time to show our guest what a lovely host you are.” He punctured his command with a sharp swat to your ass.

You stumbled forward but looked back at him for guidance. “How—?”

“Don’t think I forgot how well you begged for cock earlier,” he reminded you. “You still desperate for it?”

“Want,” you shook your head, confused. “Want yours.”

The features of his face softened. “You’ll get mine soon enough. But you know only good sluts get my cock and I still need some convincing.”

“I’m good,” you insisted, your lips pursed into a pout.

He raised his brow and tilted his head.

Squinting your eyes defiantly, you crawled over to Seokjin and begged, shameless and past the point of caring about modesty. “Please fuck my face.”

“Is that—?” Seokjin gulped, looking down at you with worried eyes. “Will you be okay?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” A wicked grin played at Yoongi’s lips. “I’ve cock trained her to take it like a good slut should.”

The unabashed moan his words provoked was all it took for Seokjin to know that you were fully on board with him fucking your face. His eyes widened imperceptibly at how shameless you looked, mouth open with your tongue out, panting for his hardened length down your throat like a bitch in heat.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, squeezing the base of his cock to keep himself together.

Your lewd display seemed to amuse Yoongi to no end.

“Look, she’s hungry for it. Don’t keep her waiting, she’s been good.”

Seokjin gave in. No matter what others believed, he was only human. All men had their limits and Seokjin’s self-restraint had been tested too many times today to count. He fed you his cock, slipping inch after inch into your hot mouth.

His groan of appreciation vibrated deep in his chest and he tipped his head back as the feeling of your mouth momentarily overwhelmed him.

It didn’t take long for him to get lost in the feeling. Although he had had his reservations about the entire thing, Seokjin stopped holding back once he saw how enthusiastic you were. You sucked his cock, working him down even if it was obvious his sizeable length wasn’t making it easy.

“Force it down,” instructed Yoongi.

Seokjin jumped, his eyes flying open as he remembered the older man’s presence. Your mouth was so good he had erased everything else in the room.

“What?”

“She won’t be able to take it in her throat unless you help her.” Yoongi observed with almost clinical detachment. Seokjin took a moment to admire the man’s calm and collected attitude. The moment dissipated quickly, however. Your tongue had started doing things to the head of his cock that had him biting down whines of pleasure.

You laughed around his dick when he failed to suppress one of them. Seokjin’s erection twitched as the vibrations teased him further and he groaned out a few creative expletives that had you giggling harder.

His hips kicked up of their own accord, making you gag loudly as his length reached the back of your throat. Seokjin almost apologized but you dug your nails into the meat of his ass and signaled him to do it again.

He swore again and fucked into your mouth slowly at first but once he saw you could take it, started building a pace. “Holy s-shit. I’m going to blow my load soon, fucking fuck.”

That only seemed to strengthen your determination. You got even tighter around him, almost like you were trying to milk the cum out of his dick with your mouth.

Yoongi approached with the stealth of a cat, making sure not to startle you when you had a cock buried in your throat. Seokjin glanced up and was glad to see that the man wasn’t wholly unaffected. Compared to when he had first met him, Yoongi looked a lot less composed. His once perfectly ironed button-down was now wrinkled, his tie loosened and crooked. And then there was his cock—hard and leaking.

Seokjin’s balls tightened and he blinked through the haze, not knowing why he was so turned on by being watched. Yoongi kept the grip on his dick loose, his strokes lazy and unhurried. Next to him, Seokjin felt like he was about a minute or two away from nutting down your throat.

“Want to know why she’s so desperate for your cum?” The way he said it—like he was imparting a guarded secret—made Seokjin look up at him through heavy lids. Every so often his lids would droop close, attention wavering with every lick of your wicked tongue.

Yoongi leaned in so close that his breath tickled the side of his neck. “It’s because she knows that it’s the only way I’ll give her what she’s been so desperately craving all this time—my fat cock fucking her pussy.”

Seokjin was unsure who the words were truly aimed at. You reacted like they had been whispered for your benefit, moaning without reserve around his dick.

"She's so cock hungry she was willing to seduce handsome pool boys if it meant that she'd get fucked by me. Reward the slut. Cum, now."

“Oh fuck!” Seokjin threw his head back as he felt his balls empty themselves. The muscles in his thighs quivered and his knees threatened to give out. “What the fuck. I haven’t cum this hard in months.”

His chest heaved as he got his heartbeat under control. When he was finally capable of breathing normally, he chanced a glace down at you and swore his heart stopped for a nanosecond.

Yoongi had pried your mouth open with his fingers, examining the insides of your mouth. The sight was…obscene. Straight out of a porno. Seokjin’s stomach tightened as he observed the scene in front of him, feeling his spent dick twitch in interest despite the recent mind-numbing orgasm.

“Good girl,” praised Yoongi and even to Seokjin’s ears, he sounded proud of his wife’s achievements. “Spit.”

He motioned at his raging boner. “Get me ready to fuck you. With how long it’s been, you’re going to need all the lube you can get.”

Visibly excited at the prospect of finally getting your husband’s cock, you obliged, gathering all the cum in your mouth and letting it drip down his erect length in globs of white. Seokjin had never experimented with cumplay and didn’t know if the sight aroused or disgusted him.

“Mhm,” Yoongi grunted as he slicked up his dick, coating the entirety of it in another man’s cum. The sound of each stroke rang out loudly in the otherwise quiet room, the sound lewd and wet.

“Please fuck me now,” you pleaded, hands clasped in your lap and knees still tucked under you from earlier. The position and sweet tone made you appear demure—but by now Seokjin knew better. “You promised.”

“I did, didn’t I?” He smiled wide enough for creases to appear near his eyes. “Time to give you what you worked so hard for.”

Yoongi didn’t wait for a reply—not that he had been expecting one in the first place. He pushed you back until your back hit the mattress and crawled over you, pinning you to the bed with his weight.

He kept his eyes level with yours as he pushed the head of his cock into you. The stretch was slow but he refused to go faster, ignoring your noises of encouragement. Despite his earlier rough treatment, he had no interest in inflicting this kind of pain. He kept his hips still, not giving in to his instincts, and waited until you had completely adjusted before finally moving again.

Your moan sounded more genuine this time. It was enough to convince Yoongi that you were ready for more. “You always let out the prettiest sounds for me.”

He pulled out all the way only to slam back in, the intrusion earning him a throaty moan, louder than the last. Grinning, he kept up the slow yet deep thrusts, balls slapping against your ass with every rock of his hips into yours.

Yoongi felt the best kind of dizzy, like he had smoked a blunt right before sliding into your cunt. There were only two instances where he felt this invincible and on top of the world. One, whenever he fucked your sweet pussy as he pleased. Two, when he had secured a multi-million dollar deal. Luckily for him, he had checked both boxes today. The adrenaline high he had gotten this morning at the office still ran through his veins and only fueled his desire to fuck you harder and drive your body into the mattress.

Unfortunately, he had been pent up for so long that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to give it to you like you deserved. He had been hard for God knew how long… And hadn’t had sex in almost two whole months. No wonder he felt his control slipping much faster than usual.

“Missed your cock so much,” you sobbed, hiccuping as he drove into you harder. “Thought about it every night.

“I promise I’ll never keep it away from you this long ever again.”

“Good.” Your lashes fluttered as he ground his hips into yours, pelvis rubbing against your needy clit. “Ah!”

Yoongi’s rhythm stuttered as he adjusted your legs, throwing one over his shoulder in order to reach deeper. “Missed this tight cunt. Craved it so much, I dreamt of it. Imagined you bouncing on my lap during those board meetings, bending you over the conference table and taking you in front of all of my associates. I’d let them watch, let them watch you take my cock from behind like a filthy whore.”

He abandoned his deep thrusting for quicker, shallow strokes. “Fuck, I can feel you tighten. You going to cum all over my cock for me? Did you like the idea of me fucking you in a room full of people that much?”

Yoongi’s groan of pleasure was drowned out by your scream of ecstasy. The way you clenched down like a vice was almost enough to destroy the last of his control. He gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring as he drove into you even deeper, determined to see you fall apart one last time.

Knowing that it wouldn’t take many more thrusts before he’d be pushed over the edge, he reached down between your legs to rub at your clit. You thrashed under him, over stimulated but forced to take it. If it wasn’t for his firm grip on your legs, you would have tried to buck him off.

“Ah, Yoongi! Yoongi, I’m—” You sucked in a gulp of air as your eyes rolled back. “Oh God!”

“That’s right. Cream my cock, slut,” he hissed, his shirt sticking to him uncomfortably. His fringe was matted with sweat, but he couldn’t push it out of his face, not now, not when he was so fucking close.

His thumb flicked over your clit in rough circles, knowing exactly what you needed to be pushed over the edge.

It seemed to do the trick—seconds later and he felt you break into a violent climax, pussy gushing all over his cock and muscles clamping down on him with every contraction.

Yoongi could hold it back no longer. His last thrusts were quick and rough, cock throbbing painfully as he chased his end. Hips slamming into yours, he snarled between clenched teeth, “You better take it all.”

He thought he felt your pussy throb around him as he released himself inside you, cum spurting so deep he was sure he’d painted your cervix white.

For a while, only the whirring of the ceiling fan and the sound of rapid beating of hearts could be heard. Yoongi knew he should probably go clean up and throw his soiled clothes and sheets into the hamper, but his muscles had gone lax and refused to cooperate.

You rolled onto your stomach and propped yourself up on your elbows. He cracked open an eye when he heard you clear your throat.

“So? Threesome? How did we feel about that?”

“Are you asking me?” Seokjin asked incredulously and Yoongi finally remembered there was an extra presence on their bed. When you shrugged then nodded, Seokjin snorted. “Do you always conduct polls after sex?”

Yoongi was similarly unimpressed. “No one else can make you cum as hard as I do. Remember that.”

“So this is the young man you told me so much about,” drawled Yoongi.

Jungkook’s spine straightened, the man’s low timbre doing things to his insides.

When you had announced that he’d finally be able to meet your husband, Jungkook had readily agreed, looking forward to having his curiosity finally sated.

After one unsuccessful online search, Jungkook had given up on figuring out what kind of man you had married. His imagination had pictured a middle-aged man with a beer belly who occasionally liked to play polo.

Jungkook gulped audibly, realizing he couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Of fucking course his boss had to be ridiculously handsome. With his clear skin, delicately shaped nose and lips, and small, sharp eyes that had Jungkook averting his gaze, Mr. Min was so handsome that Jungkook was left bereft of speech.

Unaware of his inner crisis, Yoongi filled the awkward silence with ease. “I believe we’ve exchanged over the phone. You may address me as Yoongi, if you so wish. My wife tells me how hard you work. I wanted to personally thank you for all your efforts. I know it’s not an easy task to work in such weather conditions.”

Oh god. They talked about him. Together.

He cleared his throat. “I’m just doing my job, sir.”

Yoongi held out his hand for him to shake. His hands were so delicate looking that the force behind his grip took Jungkook by surprise. Yoongi’s gaze never strayed, trapping him in place. Jungkook felt like a prey with nowhere to hide.

“It was a pleasure working for the both of you.” He managed without stuttering like a fool. “If ever you need me for anything else, don’t hesitate. I’ve done some gardening before and I’m ok with the odd paint jobs.”

Jungkook bit his lip and ceased his rambling. Embarrassed, he scratched the back of his neck.

“I’ll be sure to remember that.”

Yoongi let the corners of his mouth curl into a smirk. He turned towards you as he watched Jungkook gather the rest of his belongings and take his leave. “You’re right. He is cute.”

“I’m always right,” you said in a distracted manner, mind elsewhere.

“You were awfully silent earlier. Hm? Not very polite.” One of his hands squeezed the dip at your waist.

You didn’t bother suppressing your glare. Yoongi merely chuckled, amused by your predicament. “I was otherwise busy.”

“Oh? But don’t you think Jungkookie would’ve enjoyed seeing my cum dripping out of your greedy pussy?” he asked, the lilt in his tone teasing. “He looked absolutely taken with you. Kept admiring your legs—not that I blame him.”

His hands played with the hem of your brazenly short dress, lifting the fabric up your thighs to uncover your naked mound.

“Would’ve been nice to treat him for all his hard work,” he commented as his fingers dipped into your hole to play with the cum he had fucked into you not even an hour ago. “And seeing cum paint your pretty thighs would have been quite the gift.”

“Yo-oongi,” you moaned his name, clenching your core as tightly as you could, not wanting to spill a single drop. “I think, ah, I think he wouldn’t have liked s-seeing your cum go to waste.”

“Is that so?”

“He looked more taken with you than with me,” you said between heavy pants. One of your hands had closed around Yoongi’s wrists in warning—you were still on the front porch for God’s sake there were kids in the neighborhood—but it hadn’t deterred him in the least. On the contrary, his fingers plundered your depths, determined to get you to drench his whole hand.

“Well…” Yoongi smiled, gums on display, as your body shuddered from head to toe. fin

“There’s only one way to test that theory out, isn’t there?”

#i gave up editing halfway bc no1 has time for that so apologies !! for any mistakes n typos !!!#ty to all my lovely friends who encouraged me to finish this fic on my own time !#u are all angels n this fic would still be in draft format if not for u :'(#bts smut #yoongi smut #jimin smut #hoseok smut #seokjin smut #cries

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himbowelsh · 4 years

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Psst...if you’re still doing the Valentine meme, can I have one for Eugene Sledge? I am So Soft for him. (Also, I wanna thank you for doing so many of these! You always put such thought and care into each boy, and you’re doing it for free!! We don’t deserve you).

valentines day alphabet ( no longer accepting )

A : AFFECTION. how does your muse show affection?

Softly. Eugene’s affection is a tender thing, never performative, very private. When he cares for someone, he shows it in little smiles and private jokes; letting his guard down in their presence, able to lean back and read a book or doze off without an ounce of self-consciousness; sharing things with them, like interesting book passages or science facts, and trusting that they’ll care. His affection is understated, but it’s very comfortable, very peaceful.

B : BOUQUET. does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

Gardening was one of his mother’s pet hobbies, and Eugene took a special interest when he was little. He always loved flowers, all those bright colors and blooming life that rang in the springtime... while he’s no expert in gardening himself, he learned enough from his mother that he could raise a potted plant easily, and has a special fondness for them. He’ll show up with a carefully curated bouquet to any event, or surprise his mother with them just because he was passing by the flower shop --- and you bet he helped the florist pick them out.

C : CHOCOLATE. does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

He’s not a big fan... but he’ll never say no to Hersheys kisses.

D : DATE. what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

Not for a first date, because he wouldn’t want his love interest to think he’s a nerd... but somewhere further along in the relationship, he’d love to go to a science museum. Maybe the best one in Alabama, which would require a bit of a trip --- another thing he’d like, Eugene really enjoys car rides, especially when he’s the one driving --- but he’d have an amazing time. His partner might have to work to keep his attention on them instead of the exhibits, but seeing Eugene enthusiastic and in his element is a treat. He’s more interested in biology, but he’d also like to go to a planetarium; how often does a date take you across the universe?

E : EMBRACE. does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

He’s so weird. Even when prepared for a hug, he’s never quite ready, so he tenses up for the first few seconds before kind of melting into it. He doesn’t give out hugs that often, but they’re very soft, almost like he isn’t sure of himself and doesn’t want to impose; he’s self-conscious about his own hugs, but lowkey likes them from others if he’s in the right mood. (If he’s in the wrong mood... he will fall out of his chair to dodge a hug.)

F : FLIRT. is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

Oh, don’t worry, he doesn’t! Ever. Like, he might physically hurt himself if he really tried to get a date. Eugene... isn’t smooth, and he’s aware of it. He’d choke on a pick-up line before it could leave his mouth. Instead, he’s just... himself around people, maybe a bit nervous and flushed around someone he finds attractive. Please don’t assume this man has game.

G : GIFT. is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

He’s a perfectionist about giving gifts. Lots of thought goes into them, and he’s very determined to get the right thing. He’s been this way ever since he was little (it was torment for his parents, trying to find gifts for Sid’s birthday every year when Eugene just didn’t approve of anything); gifts matter, and the right one goes a long way. He’ll spend an hour just brainstorming the perfect gift, and then a whole afternoon hunting it down, if the person means enough to him. Usually he gets it right.

H : HEART. is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

Slow. Regardless of any past traumas, Eugene has always been cautious giving his heart away. What else could be more personal, more meaningful, than loving someone? It’s never quick for Eugene; he needs to see a lot of them, to truly get to know them, before he can trust his heart to love.

I : I LOVE YOU. does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

It doesn’t come easily to him. He prefers to whisper it, tender and genuine, in intimate moments; he utters it like a prayer against his partner’s lips, or while gazing into their eyes. Eugene will never shout it for the world to hear, but he’s always so effortlessly comfortable and affectionate with his partner in public that, to anyone paying attention, his body language practically screams it.

J : JEALOUSY. does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

He... would deny it. He’s not the jealous type, he’d claim, and he isn’t --- except for the occasional pangs if he sees someone lavishing a bit too much affection on his partner. He won’t make a big deal out of it, but he might invent a reason to insert himself into the situation or wrap an arm around his partner’s waist and steal them away, while casting a not-as-subtle-as-he-thinks glower at the offending person. Jealous!Sledge is a cryptid, and very amusing.

K : KISS. is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

Eugene kisses like he’s drowning. It’s very intimate, almost ravenous in his earnestness; he needs from his partner immediately, needs the reassurance and affection only their lips can provide, and he’s willing to sacrifice his self-control in search of it. His hands don’t tend to stray from their back, but he’s not above cupping their face, simply holding them close to him. He gasps against their lips in between kisses, allowing only a breath before going back for more. While he can be a soft kisser in the right mood, the majority of his kisses tend to be intense and earnest.

L : LOVE. who does your muse love?

Eugene cares deeply for his family, even if their relationship isn’t always easy; he recognizes how fortunate he was to grow up in a home knowing he was deeply, unconditionally loved. He’ll also always have a special place in his heart for Sid, his oldest and truest friend; he loves his dog; he loves some long-dead authors, just because he admires their work so much. Eugene doesn’t naturally open himself up to loving many people, because it’s a very personal thing for him. Love grows within him slowly.

M : MOONLIGHT. is morning or night a more romantic setting?

He’s got a special fondness for moonlight; it always leaves him in a more thoughtful, more sensual frame of mind. That said, he’s painfully not a night owl, and anytime around midnight he starts getting very sleepy, so he’s got a short window to get that romancing done.

N : NAUGHTY. what is your muse like in bed?

... not very naughty. He isn’t adventurous, is the thing, and would probably need some convincing before trying out anything wild with his partner. Eugene isn’t a prude, but he also isn’t experienced, and has no confidence in what he’s doing. He’s going completely off instinct, and would need some encouragement (possibly some guidance) from his partner before finding in rhythm. Once he does, that same heated fervor from his kisses takes over. He’s driven by instinct, touching and exploring wherever he dares, almost enjoying the liberty of bushing respectable boundaries. He’s most sensitive at his thighs and hips; when his partner touches there, he shivers, and should their mouth stray there, he’d moan like a harlot.

O : ODE. does your muse have a way with words?

He’s a reader. A writer. A thinker. Words have always been something he dealt in easily --- never to the point of being pretentious, but the ability to express himself through speech and pen has always been something he valued.

P : PARTNER. what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Eugene would prefer someone intellectual, or at least someone smart; he’d like it if they had a passion for classics, for old places and things. Sharing interests is something he thinks is necessary in a relationship, but honestly, it really isn’t. Eugene needs (even if he won’t admit it): a partner capable of being strong when he isn’t, someone who’ll look after him without leaving him feeling condescended to, someone interested in him and willing to share parts of themselves with him. Someone dependable, who’s willing to take things slow. Someone with light in their eyes, and a smile that lights up the room. Someone intuitive, who understands what he means even if he doesn’t say it outright. Ideally, someone who likes music, but also doesn’t mind the quiet.

Q : QUESTION. would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

He’d ask under the right circumstances, when the moment felt absolutely right --- for both of them, his partner especially. Eugene would probably feel around his partner for a few months, dropping hints and testing the waters to discern if they’re in a place to get married as well. Only when he feels truly sure does he pull out a ring over dinner, a sweet (thought out for hours, twelve previous drafts thrown away) speech on his lips and hope in his eyes.

R : ROMANCE. is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

He’s a cynic who’d enjoy the change to be romantic if it ever came his way. Sledge has a very strong capacity for romance --- he could be an absolute dream date --- but it needs to be tapped into. He’s not wide-eyed and idealistic naturally.

S : SWEETHEART. did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

... we’re not going to say Sid, because he swears to this day that he never had a crush on Sid, they were just friends, he never had a hero-worshipping thing for Sid, really --- let’s say Mary. Everyone in their school was a little in love with Mary Houston, but she never had eyes for Eugene.

T : TRUE LOVE. does your muse believe in true love?

... no. He doesn’t. Maybe at one point, before he truly understood what love is, and how easily it can be snuffed out... but now, he just believes you’re lucky if you’re able to love one person in your lifetime. It’s not “true”; nothing is that permanent, nothing can be trusted that much. (lol rip sledge’s innocence)

U : UNREQUITED. has your muse had their heart broken?

By life? Yeah. It’s being held together with superglue and duct tape at this point.

V : VALENTINE. how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?

His parents always plan a big date every year, so Eugene’s had a good example. Given the opportunity, he’d like to romance a partner on the Day of Love, instead of sitting home alone eating cookies in the parlor.

W : WEDDING. would your muse get married? why / why not?

... well, he figures, at some point, if only to set his parents’ minds at ease. It’s not something Eugene particularly looks forward to until it happens; he doesn’t feel the urge to get married, nor that he’d be an exceptional husband. When he finds the right person, though, his mind starts to change. It would take a while before he’s ready to commit thoroughly, ready to trust in the possibility of a happy ending... but he’d like to.

X : XOXO. does your muse use / like pet names?

He sometimes does, just to be cheeky. They’re mostly ones he grew up hearing from his parents, like “darling” or “dearest”; he steals “my angel” from his father and adopts it for himself, just because he always loved how romantic it sounded as a child.

Y : YOURS. does your muse get protective easily?

If someone is threatening someone he cares about, Eugene takes a turn very quickly; he goes from friendly and unassuming to steely-eyed killer without missing a beat. You would not look at him and think “this man could kick someone’s ass”; you’d be wrong. If the situation calls for it, and he’s got the incentive --- i.e. people he loves in danger --- Eugene does not come to play around. He will diffuse the situation with a few very calm, very scary words... and hopefully it won’t need to escalate further.

Z : ZZZ. how many people has your muse slept with?

Hah! Oh my god, don’t ask him that, he doesn’t like it. (This V-Card is in no hurry to get punched. God help him.)

#eugene sledge #headcanons #thank you thank you!! im so glad youre enjoying them and hope you enjoy this one!!#the door on these is officially closed so i'm only doing the 2 i have left in my inbox (skinny sisk and skip muck)

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seoftheart · 5 years

Text

100 things i love about johnny

“his english name means “god is gracious” and it’s derived from hebrew words יוֹ (yo) which is the hebrew god and חָנַן (chanan) which means “to be gracious” and i mean,, true

his korean name is written as 英浩 in hanja characters and they can mean “flower, petal, brave, hero” and “great, numerous, vast” - also true

his lisp

his bad puns and pickup lines

how he donated his voice by recording audio guides to aid artists with development disabilities

how much he loves haechan and taeil :((

how much he loves nct in general

his love for yoona

how he never fails to include both female and male fans when he’s talking so nobody gets excluded

his silky hair

the way he furrows his eyebrows and one side of his upper lip goes up when he says something sassy or tries sounding smart

the little, cute wrinkles that appear on the sides of his mouth when he’s smiling

how hard he works on his chinese and tries to communicate with chinese members in their native language grfsregkajeg

the way he discreetly comforted yeri on enana when she was sick

how he noticed that on the vlive commentary function it said “say something nice” and found it really nice

how he’s really humble about the things he does and his qualities, oh my god !!

he thought his selfies weren’t good and asked for advice and didn’t believe jaehyun and doyoung when they told him his selfies are really good indeed, he was so surprised when they told him!!

his wannabe raps LMAO that rap he wrote in high school still haunts me

he stayed in sm for so long, ever since 2008, but he didn’t give up and made it to debut with nct! he had to watch his friends from exo debut before him while he was left behind but that didn’t discourage him one bit ;((

how he always finds a way to play on enana during the commercial break, and it’s usually playing with the cameras, which is really cute

his smile when he’s talking with the fans

how he always does that dance where he swings his arms left to right constantly while doing the same with hips, in sync with the arm swing and embarrasses others but does it anyway

he always thinks of nct’s international fans!! he always adds a sentence of two in english so everybody understands what’s going on

he has a lot of trouble learning japanese but he still tries so hard ;((

his “boku wa johnny desu”

he’s really shy when someone compliments him, but never fails to compliment others

he has such a nice relationship with enana staff members and always helps them and encourages them

“to everyone out there, i just want to say that whoever’s listening to this is absolutely beautiful, and there’s nothing you need to change about your appearance, you’re already as perfect and unique as you are. don’t let anyone tell you differently. if you ever feel like you’re not worth anything, seek help or change your environment, don’t let the bullies get to you. life is long, life is beautiful. don’t stop right here because of these mean people. live for yourself, live happily, and show them you’re stronger than them.”

saying “bless you” when people sneeze a lot of people overlook, but he finds it meaningful

he always encourages either the nct members or complete strangers when they’re speaking english even though they make mistakes and makes them feel confident about their language skills

that one time he started randomly meowing on enana and made jaehyun laugh

ok but on a serious note tho. johnny likes to,,,meow around. idk if it grew into a (weird) habit of his but he just,,,meows. he meows around jaehyun, he meows around mark, he probably meows around everyone in nct. can i pls get this limited-edition cat too

his super broccoli and super corn t-shirts

his singing voice ;–;

how he never hesitates to do aegyo but regrets it straight afterward so he lowers his head and covers his face with his hands

he said he loves running through the rain when it’s raining and it’s so unusual but cute!

lmao he’s such a hopeless romantic tho, i bet he got that running-in-the-rain idea from a romance film or smth

“to do and regret, rather than not to do and regret”

his hobby is photography and he takes really nice photos which he posts on nct’s instagram!!

his signature is really pretty!! it’s one of the most beautiful signatures i’ve seen an idol have tbh

he plays the piano really well and he used to play it together with jaehyun in their room when they were roommates

during the time he shared the room with jaehyun, jaehyun used to always light up scented candles and it sometimes bothered johnny but he never said anything about it so jaehyun wouldn’t feel bad

also,, he sleeps naked?? but like,, he’s so open with it. he’s like oh? clothes? i don’t wear clothes when i sleep lol and taeil is ????? so c o n f u s e d but johnny is just there, with a big grin on his face lmao

he’s a bit clumsy but it makes him adorable ;-;

his laugh!! it goes from a simple giggle to a high pitched laughter and it’s so recognisable and funny to hear, but it never makes you tired of hearing it

the dimples that appear on his face when he’s smiling, #help

he always gives other members the chance to speak in english if they want to or if they’re confident but never forces them if they don’t want to

how he’s so passionate about photography and he uses his camera more to capture the nature and his members than to take pictures of himself

also. that one photo of a smiley face written on a foggy car window (probably?) that he took is so, so, so important.

seriously, i love the style of photography he is going for!!

how he always participates when nct does volunteer work, like how he went to that school and made meals for children or how he went to a p.e. class and taught the kids how to dance

the way he laughs!! he always laughs in little fits, like, it goes hahaha hahahaha hahaha and it’s a d o r a b l e

how he’s secretly a meme king and loves sharing memes with nct members on their gc but they never reply to him and it’s so sad but so cute fsdjkghs

the way he looks at cameras like they’re the most precious things in the world

he never fails to hype a nct member up!!

how much he loves his family. he doesn’t talk about them a lot but when he does you can see it in his eyes how much he misses his parents. also when he cried when they sent him a video message for his birthday during his smrookies days!!

also when he was so surprised and teared up when his mum sent an audio message to enana back in 2018

“love starts with a smile” - johnny, 170327

he always sees beauty in some things that would usually get overlooked or wouldn’t be seen as beautiful and pretty and he never fails to express how he finds them nice!!

his relationship with mark. it’s not only that they’re english speakers so they’re close, you can see just how much johnny cares for mark. mark is like johnny’s little brother

he has a tendency to say things in a tone someone could find sarcastic but he really means it. he uses these phrases that have grown to be seen as sarcastic only to convey his true feelings and i find it so unique and beautiful (like when he said “it’s beautiful, mark” in the first relay vlive when mark, jaemin, winwin and kun were making standees for the sprouts - one would think he’s saying it just so that he wouldn’t hurt mark’s feelings but if you listen closely enough, you can hear the sincerity in his voice)

how he uses “your one and only” when writing to the fans

also the message on a photocard for the regular-irregular album where he wrote “from your one and only to my one and only” i literally blushed okay.

seriously though, the messages he writes on photocards are so thoughtful and cute, for example on the regulate pc he wrote: “simon says... smile!” and like,, i might have cried.

his face with no makeup on!!!

his thighs that are both muscular and soft, you can’t really tell if he’s really fit or a bit chubby and it makes my heart go whoosh whoosh bc!! my bias!!! is chubby!!!!! and i love it!! !!!!

seriously though, the songs he recommends and/or plays on enana

he says he’s a really clumsy person or it’s just his height so he always bumps into things and i find it adorable even though it must hurt him but how can you not love these small things about this giant man shjsjs

how he sleeps with so many plushies and gives them names and always changes the one he’s hugging at night om g

“pandas. OmG PANDAS” - johnny in ikea

have i already said this but he’s so empathic and compassionate and conscientious and always tries to make people around him feel comfortable with his jokes and warm smiles

he’s also so patient and laid-back and doesn’t get angry so easily, like, someone would probably get angry with yuta were it his phone number that was exposed (even by accident) but johnny was just liek,,,yah it’s okay and forgave yuta and sgjdjsh he’s just so nice :(

how he thinks make-up shouldn’t be limited to girls only and doesn’t believe in gender roles!!

in addition to that, he even appeared in an episode of netflix’s bill nye saves the world that touches on the topic of sexuality & identity and it’s such a big thing for an idol, especially a rookie idol to talk about how kpop is changing the traditional ideas of what gender norms are in such a conservative country??

“just be yourself. i feel like that’s a big point” - johnny in bill nye saves the world

*serious, with a smile on his face* “do you have a boyfriend?” *serious* *can’t contain the cringe and laughter* *turns away in an adorable way*

johnny’s fashion evaluation much?? it’s just him giving weird names to nct’s outfits and pretending to be an expert by giving them star ratings but it’s all just random and it’s so funny shjsh

while we’re at being funny! god of humour!! right there!!!! johnny suh invented humour ok i don’t make the rules

like,, his humour is not the normal kind, i saw many people actually say he’s not funny but LMAO joke’s on you, his humour is the galaxy brain type of humour, it’s like,, a bit dry but it’s so funny if you’re on the same page as him

when he went to ikea with jaehyun to buy a lamp but they only ended up looking at plushies and johnny immediately made friends with two snake plushies, fred and jason. “fred, what are you doing here??” “jason, jason! no, he’s my friend, jason. jason, he’s my friend.” - johnny in ikea, after saving jaehyun from jason’s bite. like that’s so random but it’s working because i’ve melted

him wearing hoodies and putting them over his head while taking photos of his members is so precious and soft!!

the way his pinky kind of drifts away from the rest of his fingers when he’s waving or covering his mouth or doing anything with his hand really

his plump lips and the way they curl upwards a bit and it makes them look so c u t e but they’re also a bit sexy???

he has these scars on his face (a lot of them on his chin) that are almost invisible because of the makeup but i think they’re from pimples, perhaps? but they’re so beautiful and precious and i love them when he smiles and they get a different shape and it’s art?? on someone’s face?????

he speaks so confidently in korean even though it’s not his native language! one would think it is by the way he never stutters or has a loss for words but it’s just because of his never-ending friendliness and confidence that’s a part of his personality

remember the rolling paper event during the 127 1st anniversary party? all of johnny’s messages were the longest ones and were so heartfelt and sincere. he really poured his entire heart while writing those and that only shows just how much he loves his members

his role inside the group may seem unimportant but he’s one of the few people holding the group together. there is taeyong as the leader, but johnny is like a leader from the shadows who puts everyone before himself first - and it is not easy to do

he cares for the foreign members so, so much. out of all the nct members, he’s been in sm the longest and as a foreigner he understands and knows what it’s like to suddenly be in a completely new country surrounded by nothing but strangers. he kept on conversing with ten, both in english and in korean, so ten would feel more comfortable and he’s the main reason ten’s korean has gotten so much better. also, he takes so much patience with the chinese members who have language barriers with both him and the rest of nct and never fails to correct them when they say something wrong or when they can’t think of a word/phrase to say. when they were touring seoul, he was always next to lucas and closely listening to how lucas speaks so that he can help him learn better!!

johnny knows how to flirt and seduce but what he doesn’t know is how to act afterwards so the embarrassment that comes after he says something cringy is just the most adorable think ever (take “do you have a boyfriend?” ig video for an example). he’s just so awkward and he can’t compliment someone without blushing ;(

also oh boy, johnny is just so bad at lying like fksjshksh he can’t keep a secret to save a life. were we, nctzens, not so dumb, we’d get so many spoilers he accidentally gave lmao

while we’re at this, he also can’t have a nice phone because he literally doesn’t care about it, hE THREW IT IN THE FLOOR in that one video, isn’t that enough as it IS

also,,,,,,he put a metal fidget spinner on its screen and somehow expected it not to break?????? just how lovable this idiot is.

he’s so,,,,awkward and cute around girls,,,like,,,,,,,help me. him confessing to yoona (kind of?) is the cutest thing ever and it just fills my heart with love and i!! wanna protect!!!!!

the thing i always look at when i watch enana are his ears because he always fiddles with them and touches the earring(s) and it’s cuuuute

but lmAO somehow the earring(s) always fall out when he does touch them and it’s somehow so,,endearing because he’s so cute jfc

he once said he tries using “thank you” and "i love you” a lot because those words are so powerful and he seems to always want to bring smile to other people’s faces..

also!! his parents call him prince as a nickname and,,well. i might be crying because that’s s o f t

do you know that johnny always tries to wear colourful clothes on rainy days so that he breaks the monotony and the nostalgia of rain?? fdkjhsrgahkdsg

“you can overcome everything with laughter”

also,, have you noticed how he always makes a double peace sign when he’s embarrassed? cute.

#johnny #nct #johnny seo #johnny suh #seo youngho #nct 127 #john suh #john seo #happybirthdayjohnny #happyjohnnyday #100 things i love about #my text #mytext #i love this one man and that man is johnny #i put so much thought into this okay ;(((((#i'll post it on twitter too so know that it's not someone stealing!#<333

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heyyyharry · 5 years

Text

Silly Love Songs

(from ‘Couple in Flat 102’)

…in which Harry and Y/N have an uninvited house guest, and their two best friends are in hot water.

Okay this is freaking long so ignore any mistakes you might find, and pretend this whole thing is grammatically correct! Yay!

Warning: smut, mention of smut, language.

wattpad link

Harry believed he was a romantic person.

Though he might not appear as someone who was naturally good at conveying his feelings, he had always been passionate about the things he loved. So when he fell in love with his flatmate, who adored romance and sappy stuff like handwritten notes, flowers and balloons, he voluntarily turned into the guy who would give all that to her.

But it was a long time ago.

Today one of his co-workers asked him about the most romantic thing he'd ever done for Y/N, and Harry realized that he hadn't done anything romantic for her lately. Maybe he'd already grown accustomed to her presence in his life so he didn't think those things mattered anymore.

The last present she'd received was from her boss, who'd given her chocolate on Valentine's Day, and a wedding dress! That man had even taken her to a party and danced with her. Was Harry the one marrying her, or Jack?

No, said the voice inside Harry's head. Something has to change. And he surely wasn't gonna wait until the next day to take action.

That evening, he waited outside of her workplace in his car with a strange kind of elation he couldn't explain. Without waiting for her to ask why he was so cheerful, he honked the horn and announced, "get in, woman. We're going on a date."

"A date?" She snorted, probably thinking he was only joking.

"What?" Harry gave the girl a shrug. "Engaged couples can still go on dates."

The last time they'd gone out was a couple weeks ago and they weren't even alone, Niall and Layla were with them. Harry had mentioned this date several times in the last two months, but since their jobs had been too crazy, they never had time to arrange one. So Harry couldn't blame Y/N for being surprised to hear him declare that they were going out tonight.

Without hesitation, she hurried into the car and asked him where they were going.

"Where do you wanna go?" He questioned, to her surprise.

"Wait, you have no plans whatsoever?"

"Of course I...don't. I'm a spontaneous man." He chuckled as she huffed and hit him on the arm.

"Okay let's go eat then, I'm hungry," she suggested.

"My wife wants food, she gets food."

The way he sang out the words made Y/N laugh as she called him silly. Honestly, she could call him anything she wanted as long as he got to see that smile on her face every single time.

On the way to pick her up, he'd really thought about how they hadn't spent much time together like they used to, and he blamed himself for his own fear that she might be slipping away. Maybe she was slipping away. He couldn't read her mind, but he'd never had to tried before. Ever since Jack showed up and started showering her with affection, Harry had begun to realize that he'd got a lot to lose. The one thing he feared most at that point was never making her laugh again. He couldn't let that happen.

"Wait, last week Kate took me to this Korean restaurant, but I can't remember the address..." Y/N pulled out her phone, and froze the moment she switched on the screen. "Five missed calls from Layla?"

"She probably lost her hoop earrings again." Harry rolled his eyes as Y/N decided to call her best friend back. She shot him a glare and told him not to be so mean.

The beeping on the line lasted for about three seconds before Layla finally picked up the phone, but instead of speaking, she was making...noises.

"Are you...laughing?" Y/N asked her friend as she exchanged confused looks with Harry, who was probably more perplexed than she was.

"No, I'm crying!"

"Okay, calm down. I can lend you my earrings it's fine—"

"No dumbass, Niall and I broke up."

"Layla, don't joke like that."

"What did she say?" Harry leaned in.

"She said Niall and her broke up."

"I'm serious! I'm standing outside your door! Hurry up home!"

Just like that, the crying girl hung up without at least one goodbye. Harry didn't hear any part of that short conversation, but as he saw the look on Y/N's face, his smile soon faded away.

"It's probably a prank." He laughed nervously. Deep down inside, however, he also had a bad feeling about this. "You know Layla."

"I do. That's why I know it's not a prank," Y/N said, pinching her forehead. "Let's go home. She's waiting for us."

"W-What about our date?"

The green-eyed man frowned, yet that pouty look got his lover smiling. She placed a hand at the back of his head, pulling him in for a kiss on the lips. She could see how excited he'd been, but Layla had always been there for her, and what kind of friend would she be if she abandoned the poor girl in a time like this?

"We'll make sure Layla's fine and then go on our date, yeah?" She said, forehead resting against his.

Harry simply nodded, pulling away from her as he started the car engine. At that moment, a part of him kind of knew they weren't going out tonight.

The drive home was intense as Harry kept stealing glances at the girl in his passenger seat. She didn't say a word to him, not even when he pulled over and she got out and headed straight to the main entrance of their building.

"Wait," he shouted, making her freeze and turn her head around. She asked him what was wrong because she didn't understand why he seemed so reluctant to come in. But he didn't explain and just repeated what he'd just said, asking her to give him a second as he walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk. He was supposed to save that surprise until the end of their date, but he figured as soon as they saw Layla, their night out would be officially canceled, so he might as well just give it to her now.

Y/N was completely at a loss for words, when her man took out a bouquet of red roses and gave it to her along with his sweet dimpled smile.

"What's the occasion?" She asked when he kissed her cheek.

"I don't need a special occasion to buy you flowers."

Y/N wasn't a fool. First the spontaneous date, now the roses, she knew he was up to something. But she didn't ask any more questions. If he already had a plan, she didn't want to ruin it by demanding an explanation. Besides, she still had a big problem waiting for her upstairs.

"Wow, wow, wow, stop right there!" Nam shouted as soon as Y/N and Harry entered the lobby.

The doorman didn't wait for the perplexed couple to ask questions about his attitude, he rushed to their sides and pointed to the roses. The serious look on his face nearly had them freaked out.

"I know you two are supposed to be this adorable 24/7, but I think Layla would die if she feel this much love in the air."

Y/N exchanged cautious looks with Harry and he nodded to answer the question in her head. So she laid the flowers down on Nam's desk, asking the man to keep it there for her until Layla was gone.

"How was she when she got here?" Harry asked their doorman.

"She was crying so hard and nearly hit me when I asked her what was wrong." Nam breathed out through his mouth as he rolled his eyes. "Good luck, kids."

Y/N and Harry both swallowed hard after hearing that answer. Layla could be mean all the time but she'd always been harmless (to them). Now, with a broken heart and no one else to turn to, she could be...unpredictable. Y/N and Harry thought they might need a lot of luck to deal what that.

As soon as they stepped into the hallway, the couple found their friend sitting right outside their flat, with her knees to her chest. Her hair was covering most of her face, but they could already hear her sobbing from the other end of the hallway.

The last time Y/N had seen Layla that devastated was at her birthday party a few years ago, when Niall introduced his girlfriend to everyone. Now that she recalled that night, Y/N was afraid to ask Layla what the reason behind their breakup was.

They didn't do a lot of talking, not at all actually, Layla couldn't speak with all the crying anyway. The poor girl threw herself into Y/N's arms the second she saw her best friend, and kept repeating the two words "it's over" in utter despair.

"He cheated on me."

Harry nearly choked on air when he heard that specific word. He knew Niall better than most people, and Niall didn't have to tell him how much he loved Layla, because Harry already knew. In fact, he'd known since their first met, because the guy couldn't shut up about her. So how could Harry believe someone that loyal would ever cheat?

"Are you...sure?" He asked. The look Layla gave him afterwards instantly made him regret his decision to speak up.

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"No, I—"

"Were you there when it happened, Harry?"

"Hey, hey, Layla!" Y/N locked her arms around her girl friend's waist and held her back before she attacked her future husband. "Let's just...go inside and we'll talk, okay?"

Harry sighed in relief as Layla nodded her head, and while Y/N was trying to comfort her, he quickly unlocked the door. His date night could wait, because now he needed to know what'd really happened between Layla and Niall.

"...at first I thought he was on the phone with his mum, so I almost walked back into our bedroom when I heard him say 'you're the only girl for me' and 'nobody can compare to you', and a lot more but I cannot remember..."

"Maybe he was talking to his sister?"

Both Harry and Layla furrowed their eyebrows at Y/N as they spoke at the same time, "Niall only has one brother."

"Oh." Y/N bit her lower lip, looking down. "But...did you confront him?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?" Harry leaned forward with his hands linked together, elbows on his knees.

"He said he couldn't explain at the moment."

"That doesn't sound like Niall."

"You weren't even there, Harold! Stop defending that cheater!"

"Calm down!" Y/N grabbed Layla's shoulder and gave Harry an apologetic look before turning back to the girl. "Did he try to stop you when you left?"

Layla shook her head and was quiet for a bit more. "He just...let me go. I'm sure he doesn't care where I am now. He hasn't called you two, right?"

Both Y/N and Harry shook their heads at the same time.

"See?" Layla shrugged, using the sleeve of her sweater to wipe her own tears. "He doesn't even care."

After hearing Layla's side of the story, Harry was even more confused. He didn't get it. The Niall he knew would never do something like that, especially to Layla. He'd had a crush on her since high school, and ever since they became a thing, he had always been treating her like gold, no matter how ridiculous she could be at times. He wouldn't even dare to look at other girls even when Layla wasn't around, so it was almost impossible that he would ever betray her.

Besides, who would want Layla of all people to hate them?

"Love, I can't reach Niall," Harry said as he stepped into their bedroom, eyes on his phone. "You stay here with her I'll go to his place."

"Wait, H!" Y/N stopped her fiancé just as he turned away. "Layla just called his brother and found out he's with his family in Ireland."

"Why would he come back to Ireland?" Harry scoffed, looking extremely perplexed. Everything was getting much weirder now, and the fact that Niall hadn't said a word to Harry about this trip was most bizarre. "Did Greg mention why Niall came home?"

"Something to do with the family's company." Y/N gave him a shrug. "You know he works for his dad's company and all. Greg didn't even know about the break-up but he refused to interfere as we told him."

Harry pinched his bottom lip with two fingers, trying to connect the dots inside his head, but he knew he couldn't solve the puzzle on his own, not yet at least. Meanwhile, Y/N just stared at him with a smile on her face.

"Well, he'll be back in two days. We'll come see him then," she said. "But in the meantime, can Layla stay with us? She's using the guest bathroom. I'm lending her some of my clothes."

"Stay with us?! For how long?"

"Just two nights."

"But...our date," he mumbled, not sure if she'd heard him, but she had.

Harry cared about his best friends and would do anything to help them, but he'd spent this entire day imagining their date night in his head, waiting for the time to come so he could get out of the office and come surprise her. Now he watched the entire scene shatter in front of his eyes. How could he not be disappointed?

"Aww, baby, we'll go out tomorrow night. Don't you worry," Y/N said, wrapping her arms around his waist, pulling him in. "Not tonight because my best friend needs me."

He also needed her. But he guessed Layla needed her more. So he rolled his eyes and blew up his cheeks like a ten-year-old, asking her to promise him that they would go out tomorrow night no matter what happened.

"I promise," she reassured him with a wide grin.

"Can I still fuck you though?"

"Harry!"

The green-eyed man chuckled at his lover's priceless reaction as she leaned to the side to make sure the door was still closed. She told him not to be so dirty when their friend was staying with them, but when she attempted to walk away, he blocked her path immediately.

"Are you insane?" She giggled quietly when he tugged on her hips and ran his hands under her shirt to tease her bare chest. He could never complain about her never wearing a bra when they were at home, now he couldn't wait to find out if she'd also forgotten her panties.

"What?" He raised an eyebrow teasingly when receiving the annoyed look from his future wife. "I'll be quiet. Not sure about you but you can try."

"You're a dick." She rolled her eyes. But the second he brought his lips to her ear, nippling and biting it, and making his way down to her neck, her whole body almost gave in to him. She could say whatever she wanted, but the way she arched her back to press up against him had made it pretty clear that she was just as needy and desperate as he was.

"Wanna fuck you now." He whispered, biting gently onto her collar bone. It wasn't even a question but she was nodding enthusiastically with her eyes closed. "Yeah? Want me to fuck you?"

"Yeah..."

"Be specific, love."

"Want you to...fuck me," she blurted into oblivion, feeling him smirking against her skin as she imagined the smug look he was wearing. She hated him as much as she wanted him now.

"Good girl." Harry chuckled, taking her jaw in his hand to brush his lips against hers. Y/N didn't say another word. She just pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it somewhere behind them without caring where it landed. She wanted to run her hands all over his naked torso, swearing the sight alone could almost get her off.

Harry had pushed up her shirt to start massaging one of her breasts. His other hand took no time to pull up her skirt and he was slightly disappointed by the fact that she had her panties on. In less than a second, he had them removed and her pinned against the wall behind, both wrists held together by his right hand so she couldn't touch him while he sucked a nipple into his mouth.

She had her eyes shut, too lost in the pleasure to even know reality. His name faintly escaped her lips in wet moans as she begged for more, expecting him to give it to her already, but in a blink of an eye he pulled away and yanked her shirt back down, leaving her gasping for air.

Everything happened so fast that her brain hadn't even got time to process as she heard a scream. Her eyes flew open. Her head turned to the bedroom door.

Layla stood there with her eyes widened and hair still wet from the shower. She was too shocked to even move an inch as the couple jumped away from each other. Harry hurriedly picked up his shirt from the floor and threw it on as he started fixing his hair, as if his messy curls would give away what Layla had already witnessed with her own eyes.

"I don't think I can unsee that now," she mumbled with a hand on her forehead. "Go on...uhm...be safe!"

Just like that she ran off without a single eye-contact with neither Harry nor Y/N. Taking one look at his girl, who soon followed her friend out of the room, Harry knew there was no way they could finish what they had started. Hopefully, a cold shower would solve the problem in his pants right now.

"Layla! I just prepared the couch for—" Harry's feet turned to stone as soon as he reached his bedroom door. He'd been waiting for Layla to go to sleep so he could finally be alone with Y/N. But now, in their bed, his fiancé and her best friend were soundly sleeping. "—you..."

Oh well, he thought to himself and quietly approached the bed, trying not to wake the girls as he leaned down to see if they might still be awake.

Y/N had her arms wrapped around Layla, whose head was on her best friend's chest. They were slightly snoring so Harry assumed they'd been sleeping for quite a while, and that if he tried to wake them up now, one of them, or both, would kill him without doubt.

Carefully, the young man bent over, palms laid flat on the mattress so as to press his lips gently to Y/N's forehead. The girl shifted a bit in response to the kiss, but she was smiling, and seeing the beam on her face had Harry grin like an fool in love.

When Harry walked downstairs with a pillow and a huge blanket, Nam didn't even look surprised. Ben was also there, still in a suit, probably had just stopped by after work to visit his...boyfriend?

"Why do you look homeless?" Ben chuckled, leaning against Nam's desk as Harry flopped down on the sofa in the middle of the lobby.

"Y/N and Layla took the bed, Treasure took the couch and almost scratched me when I tried to wake her up," he said with his arms crossed, looking so indifferent that people might start to believe he'd got kicked out of his own flat too many times before.

"Oh, she's still upset about the Niall thing?"

"Everyone is upset about the Niall thing." Harry shook his head, now anger was etched on his face. He loved Niall and still refused to believe his best friend had done a bad thing until proven guilty, but he would punch that Irish guy in the face for all this unnecessary drama he'd brought upon everyone. "Well, at least I've got you guys."

"Actually..."

"What?" Harry looked at Nam, eyebrows furrowed.

"Ben and I are gonna go out."

"But it's your shift!"

"Nobody cares if I'm here anyway." Nam shrugged, laughing slightly as he reached out to hold Ben's hand. Yup, definitely dating, Harry thought to himself, but he didn't even get a chance to ask, because Nam was quick to wave him goodbye.

"Watch the door for me okay? We'll be back real soon."

"Wait—"

"Bye H! Love you!"

"Ben!" Harry called after his friend, who had already ran after the doorman out of the building.

Being left alone, again, Harry fell back onto the couch and pulled the blanket over his head as he growled in frustration. Just as he thought his day couldn't get any worse, life surprised him once again. He blamed it all on his best friend. Niall had better have a good excuse for this mess he'd created. If Layla didn't end up killing him, Harry certainly would.

The next day finally arrived and Harry had got all ready for his date with Y/N. He'd put on his nicest outfit, prepared a list of places he was gonna take her to, he'd even come up with the cool things to say that he knew would make her laugh. It was almost like he was getting ready for their first date again. That was exactly what he hoped she would feel at the end of the night, like they had just fallen in love.

"Ready to go, baby?" He shouted from the door while fixing his collar.

"Wait a second baby, Layla is looking for her other earring!"

Harry became paralyzed when he heard that from his lover. Y/N appeared less than a minute later, and he was still standing there, motionless, lips parted, gawking at her, then at her best friend who followed right behind Y/N like her own shadow.

"What is it?" Y/N giggled as she reached up to fix his hair. She looked so beautiful in that knee-length skirt. She'd always looked beautiful, but now that he knew he couldn't have her entirely to himself tonight, she had become even more breathtaking. It was almost torturing to Harry.

"Layla's coming with us?" He finally dared to ask. This time, Layla seemed too depressed to even insult him or attempt to hit him.

"Yeah. Is it okay? Please?" Y/N clasped her hands together, eyes sparkling as she looked at him like a cute little kitten. Fuck, the voice inside his head cried out. She's adorable. Fuck you, Niall.

"Please?" Layla mimicked Y/N's tone. "I...I don't wanna be left alone."

It was the nicest she'd ever sounded, and it kind of softened Harry because if Layla could be this gentle, that breakup must've done her damage. Now both girls were giving Harry cute puppy dog eyes. What kind of person would he be if he said no to them? The voice inside his head cursed him in all the languages he knew, but on the outside he put on a forceful smile, and nodded his head to agree that Layla could join them.

The girl couldn't stop thanking him as she walked straight towards the lift, and Y/N and Harry followed right behind. With a hand on her butt, he leaned down and whispered into her ear, "if I Iose it and have to fuck you in the restaurant bathroom. It's your fault."

Little did Harry know, they weren't going to that Korean restaurant she'd told him about. The three of them ended up at a bar in walking distance from where they lived. It was so crowded that night and they might even have to line up to use the bathroom, let alone have sex in there without someone banging on the door every one minute.

Well, fuck my life, he thought to himself.

"I thought we were gonna eat dinner?" He asked Y/N as they all took their seats by the bar.

"This place also serves food," she answered while checking her phone. She seemed distracted and had been texting on the way there. Harry didn't know for certain, yet he already had a bad feeling about this. Was she hiding something from him?

Layla grimaced as she scanned her eyes around the place. "I don't know, Y/N. Those creepy men in the corner keep staring at us...and...and I miss Niall."

That was actually the first time Harry and Y/N had ever heard Layla admit that she missed Niall. She'd never even once said she loved him in front of their friends, so to hear that from her for the first time, knowing it was really over between them, made Harry feel so sad. Y/N, on the other hand, didn't seem to worry much. She typed something down on her phone and told the other two that she had to make a phone call and would be right back.

Harry quickly grabbed the girl by the arm when she intended to walk away, asking her what was wrong, because he was getting worried about her strange behaviors ever since they left their flat. To his disappointment, Y/N didn't give him a satisfying answer and just repeated the same thing, saying she would be right back and asking him to keep Layla company in the meantime.

"I love you," he blurted.

Judging from her reaction, Harry realized he should've thought twice before saying so. He expected her to ask him why he'd randomly said those words, but she didn't. She just said she loved him back and hurried on her way, almost like...she didn't care. And when she disappeared into the crowd, his heart almost stopped.

What if she really didn't care how he felt about her anymore? Was that why she didn't even want to be alone with him? Had he lost her without even knowing that he had? So many questions left unanswered. Harry looked at Layla, and for a second there he thought he could finally empathize with her.

It'd been almost five minutes since Y/N was gone.

The song playing from the speaker stopped halfway through, sending the room into sudden silence. There might be a technical problem, and as Harry looked around he realized he and Layla might be the only people who'd noticed that, or everyone else wasn't at all bothered by the change in atmosphere now that the music was gone.

"You'd think that people would have had enough of silly love songs," the woman sitting next to Layla at the bar sang out loud, almost wanting the whole place to hear her. Harry and Layla exchanged looks, assuming she was just drunk. Strangely, they appeared to be the only two paying attention to the weird woman. Everyone else was still minding their own business, as if they hadn't heard a single sound.

The bartender brought out Layla's drink. As he handed it to her, he started singing the next line instead of talking like a normal person, "I look around me and I see it isn't so."

Harry nearly fell off his chair when the big fat man sitting next to him followed, this time with background music blasting from the speaker, "some people want to fill the world with silly love songs."

"And what's wrong with that, I'd like to know," the pink-haired waitress sang as she sat down on one of the men in the corner's lap. The guy kissed her on the cheek and finished the line in a surprisingly beautiful voice, "'cause here I go again."

All of a sudden, everyone rose from their seats and started harmonizing together. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you."

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing, Harold?" Layla whispered, clinging onto Harry's arms.

"Wait, you can see this too?" He blinked fast and rubbed his eyes, hoping it was just a crazy dream. "Are we in...high school musical?"

Without further ado, the answer both of them were looking for finally showed up.

"Niall?!"

Harry almost choked on air when his best friend jumped onto the table and grabbed the mic someone tossed to him. And just like a scene from those rom-coms Harry had watched too many times, all the lights went off at once, leaving one single spotlight on the Irish guy who also began to sing.

"I can't explain the feeling's plain to me, can't you see." He jumped from table to table to get to the one closest to Layla. "Ah, she gave me more, she gave it all to me now can't you see."

The girl was in shock when her supposedly ex-boyfriend caught a rose some random person threw at him and handed it to her. She hesitated, but took it anyway."Love doesn't come in a minute, sometimes it doesn't come at all." Immediately he grabbed her by the hand, hopping down from the table and pulling her closer. They were eye to eye as he kept on singing, "I only know that when I'm in it. It isn't silly, love isn't silly, love isn't silly at all."

The music gradually faded out but the strangers around them kept singing the same three words softly in the background.

I love you, I love you, I love you

"What is—"

"Shh!" Y/N appeared out of nowhere, pulling Harry to the side to make more room around Layla and Niall. It was not until then that Harry looked around and noticed that everyone else had also stepped further away from the couple. Harry held his breath, he knew what was going on, and there was no way he would miss a moment like this.

Niall was on one knee in front of an emotional Layla, who was covering her mouth with both hands, trying to stop her happy tears from flowing uncontrollably down her pretty face. Anyone could guess what happened next. Niall took out a tiny box from the inside of his jacket, then held it up with trembling hands.

"I've known you since we were sixteen. You've been my best friend, my best girlfriend, the most perfect girl I've ever known. The only girl I've ever truly loved, and nobody else can compare to you."

Wait, are those the words Layla had heard him say on the phone? Harry wondered as he looked at Y/N, who somehow could read his mind and gave him a proud nod.

Niall went on after a short pause, "you always said all love songs were silly because cheesy romance got on your nerves, but at the same time always yelled at me for never doing anything romantic for you." Layla snorted as she heard him. But she was too busy shedding happy tears to make a sarcastic comment like she always did. "So I hope this Silly Love Song has changed your opinion on romance, and me. I love you, Layla Scott. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you...marry me?"

"Yes," she said without any hesitation, nodding so fast her head could fall off and she wouldn't even care.

Niall quickly put the ring on her hand, and pulled her in for a passionate kiss as some guys behind the counter shot congrats confetti in the air while everyone else is cheering for the newly happy couple. When they pulled away, Layla started punching Niall's arms and shouting at him "I fucking hate you" repeatedly, to which he responded with a laugh, and also "I love you more."

Then, the truth was finally revealed.

When Layla heard Niall talking to the phone, he was really speaking to another girl, and that other girl was...Y/N. Niall needed to run his lines because he had never been good with words, so he called Y/N and asked her to listen and give him feedback on what he was going to say.

Layla gasped as soon as she heard that story. "Y/N, you knew about this?!"

"Wait, and I didn't?!" Harry pointed to himself, making his best friend and fiancé burst out laughing.

"Mate, I love you but you kind of blew up your own proposal," Niall said, patting him on the back. "Besides, Y/N knows Layla better, that's why I asked for her help."

"Aww, baby, don't be upset." Y/N giggled, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck as she apologized for hiding the whole plan from him, and said that she was also very shocked to find out Niall had come to her and not him.

To say Harry wasn't disappointed would be a lie, because he wished he'd been a part of his best friend's dramatic proposal. Nevertheless, he did feel very relieved knowing the real reason Y/N had begged him to take Layla with them tonight, and the person she'd been texting earlier was just Niall.

"We nearly cancelled the whole thing when Layla thought he was cheating on her. But I managed to keep her calm so Niall could continue with the preparation. We also had Greg lie to her about Niall coming back to Ireland," Y/N said, leaning against the bar with a beer in her hand. "The owner of this place is a close friend of Niall's family so we got to 'borrow' the bar for one night. Niall actually came here early to persuade these strangers to support his plan. They'd been practicing the songs for hours before we arrived."

"You actually believed I would ever cheat on you?" Niall laughed out loud and kissed his fiancé on the cheek. "I love you way too much to even have time thinking about someone else."

"Ugh. You're becoming way too Harry now," Layla sticked out her tongue in disgust as Harry replied to her insult with his usual 'heeeeey'.

"But..." She sighed, circling her arms around Niall's waist and resting her head on his shoulder as she mumbled, for the first time in front of their friends, "I love you, too."

So, Harry's plan had failed.

Again.

He didn't get a romantic dinner with his fiancé, didn't get to take her to all the places on his list either; but he did get to witness a beautiful proposal, and have a crazy party after that to celebrate the special event. He was very proud of Niall, and also himself for believing in Niall. And now, while walking back home with the woman he loved in his arms, all the bad luck in those two days had vanished from his memory.

"My feet hurt." Y/N stopped suddenly, telling Harry to wait as she took off one shoe and checked the back of her heel, which was already red and swollen. "I think I can still walk but—"

"Hop on." Harry didn't even let her finish that sentence as he squatted down, pointing to his back.

She stared at him in uncertainty, shaking her head no as she said, "I might crush you."

"I doubt that." He scoffed. "Come on."

Y/N knew he would stay like that until sunrise if she didn't cooperate, so she rolled her eyes and got onto his back, arms around his neck, legs around his waist as he picked her up so easily.

"Are you on yet? I don't feel anything at all." He pretended to gasp, making Y/N giggle as she rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek. Just like that, he continued to walk while giving her a piggyback ride.

"What Niall did was kind of romantic," Harry said, making her smile.

"Very romantic," She corrected him. "And it was all his idea, not mine."

"I'm sorry."

His unexpected reply really put her in shock.

"About what?" She asked, mouth wide opened.

"You deserved that kind of proposal, not the lame one I gave you."

"Aww. But I thought yours was very romantic."

"No, it wasn't." He shook his head fast to disagree. "I nearly lost the ring and someone else got to wear it before you did. It couldn't be any worse."

"That's not true, H."

"I can't even remember the last time I did something romantic for you..."

"Well..I can." Her reply actually surprised him. "In fact, I can list a thousand romantic things you've done for me in just the past week."

Then she started counting on her two hands. "Let's see....You helped me look after my brother who's in the hospital. You picked me up everyday after work and asked me if I was tired, as if I could ever feel tired after seeing your smile. You kissed me good morning, good night. You braided my hair. You read to me. You asked me to dance with you in our living room. And now, you're carrying me on your back because my feet hurt. Do you still want me to go on? Because I can."

There was a moment of silence. Though Harry couldn't see her face, he could feel her smiling at him. "My man is the most romantic guy I know. And I couldn't be any prouder."

Harry had never blushed that hard before. He was glad it was dark and she couldn't see it. But he wouldn't mind if she did.

"I can walk from here," she said when they were getting closer to home, still he didn't stop for her to get off.

"Nope, I'm carrying you straight to our bedroom."

"Oh wow, really?" She laughed softly into his ear. "Maybe I should compliment you more often then. I might never have to walk again."

Harry started smiling so big his jaw actually hurt but he didn't even care, thinking he would keep that smile on his face for the rest way home. However, he probably had concluded a bit too soon. It turned out there was another surprise for him, and this time for her as well.

They ran into Jack. And this time, he wasn't alone.

The older guy was walking hand in hand with a beautiful brunette and Y/N recognized the girl right away. That was the same girl who'd left Jack's office and made everyone of his employee second guessing for days about her identity and her relationship with him.

"Hey," Jack was the first one to speak when he and his date stopped in front of the other couple.

Y/N climbed down from Harry's back, smiling at them. She hadn't really spoken to him since Rose's birthday party, so she'd never got a chance to ask him about his new girl. And it was pretty awkward to see him outside of work like that, considering how quiet they'd been around each other.

"This is Maria." Jack introduced the brown-eyed girl to Y/N and Harry while still holding her hand. "My girlfriend."

Harry was a bit appalled, yet Y/N just went straight in for a handshake. "Hi. I'm Y/N, I work for Jack. This is my fiancé, Harry."

"Nice to meet you both," said Maria.

Y/N couldn't decide what the prettiest thing on that girl's face was, her long eyelashes or her dimples. The girl looked like a freaking model, and Y/N thought Jack and her definitely made a good-looking couple.

"Are you two on a date?" Asked Harry.

"Yeah." Jack nodded. "You guys too?"

"We just got back from a party actually. Our best friends got engaged," Y/N told him.

"That's great news," was all he said before showing another smile. He'd been smiling more than he normally would, to the point where she couldn't decide whether his happiness was fake or genuine. Of course, she wouldn't point it out.

"It's nice running into you," he said, looking at Y/N only. "But I really should get going now. See you."

"See you at work." She agreed, waving goodbye at him.

Jack said nothing else and just walked right past the engaged couple into the opposite direction. Y/N's eyes followed him and his new girl, but neither of them looked back, not even once.

"He's got a girlfriend now?" Harry was also staring at the other couple in disbelief as they walked further and further away.

"Apparently so." Y/N shrugged before turning back to him. He didn't understand what was so funny that she couldn't stop grinning from ear to ear. Without waiting for him to ask, she told him herself, "he's taken. I'm taken. It's never gonna happen, H."

"I'm not worry." He snorted, making her raise an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"Not even jealous."

"Are you sure?"

The skeptical look on her face made Harry laugh as he attacked her without warning by tickling her sides. He knew how much she hated it, and Y/N started jumping all over the place, dying of laughter as she begged him to stop and she would do anything to make up to him.

"You said it yourself, princess." He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. He whispered against her lips, "let's get you home first."

"Carry me, my humble servant!"

The man laughed as he lowered himself so his fiancé could get on his back again. Picking her up, he said, "You're lucky you're cute."

"And you love me."

"Yes." He rolled his eyes. "And I love you."

And so the young couple were joking and laughing and kissing on the rest of the way home. They were walking on air, like most people in love should be.

But somewhere down that road, another man in love was carrying a broken heart.

"Girlfriend, huh?" Maria raised an eyebrow at Jack. There was nothing official about their relationship, so when he said those words, she knew something was off, but decided to play along anyway.

"Sorry." He flashed her a smile with that one-word answer. He knew Maria wasn't the kind of woman who would be bothered by such attitude, because just like him, she wasn't expecting deep emotions between them, not yet at least.

"Was she your ex?" She asked.

"No, she said it herself. She's my employee."

"Does she know her boss is in love with her?" Maria asked with a smirk as she placed one hand on Jack's cheek to stroke his face, getting the man to give her another smile.

"Don't be silly," he said.

"Are you in love with her?" She asked him still, though she already knew what his answer was going to be. Absolutely nothing. "You don't have to say it. I can read your mind."

"Oh dear." He chuckled in amusement, slightly shaking his head as he received a nod from her as a reply. Maria walked closer to the man and playfully bit onto his shoulder as they both laughed together.

"So..." She trailed off, smiling at him. "My place or yours?"

"Mine."

They finally reached his car and Jack leaned down to capture the Latina's mouth with his own. They kissed for a little while before pulling away and he opened the door on the passenger side for her. He did look back, once, but the person he hoped to see had already been long gone. With a bit of regret and hesitation, he got into the car, and eventually drove away.

Love was everywhere tonight.

A recently broken up couple got engaged in a bar. A young man thought he was losing the love of his life, only to find out her feelings for him had never changed. Two lonely people found comfort in using each other's body to fill the void. And one man realized he loved a woman who would soon be another man's wife.

So it was fair to say falling in love was like flipping a coin, you never knew which side it would land on. There were always two possible outcome, good, and bad. If it was somewhere in between, then it wasn't love that you'd found.

Love wasn't just happiness, it was also doom and gloom. Love could make you feel insecure, but at the same time, might be the only security in your life. Love could make you laugh or cry. Love could also make you laugh and cry. People gave love away, but didn't always get it back. We defined love the way we'd experienced it, and therefore, love had no clear definition.

So maybe love was silly.

But at the end, it was still the best kind of feeling in the word, wasn't it?

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #flatmate!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fluff #boyfriend!harry #harry styles writing #harry styles series

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timelock97 · 5 years

Text

Love Without A Name

Chapter Seven: Speeches, Laughter, and Family

Word Count: 3690

Masterlist

Warning: Language, and A Lot of FLUFF

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

Once the last picture was taken, Tom and I were loaded into a car to be driven to the venue. His hand was laced in mine the entire ride there, the two of us stealing glances at each other.

"There it is!" I squeal, leaning over to his side to point it out.

The venue had not been what I thought Tom would want. After going through some more fine-dining venues with large vaulted ceilings that looked over ponds, and others that had a much more city feel I had found myself at this one. It was an old barn, rejuvenated into the venue space that it is now, set up for that modern rustic feel. The room was vast, with high vaulted ceilings with long, old beams across them. The back and front doors were wide open, allowing people easy access in and out. Most of the tables for dinner were set up inside while the dance floor was set up outside under fairy lights.

I had been so sure, even though I loved it instantly, he wouldn't. But he did, and now we finally got to see the rest of our plans in place with our friends and family waiting inside.

"It really is something else." Tom hums, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to my temple before I sit back in my seat. "I'm glad that's the one we went with."

"It's even better in person." I state as the car rolls to a stop. The driver gets out to open my door and Tom hops out from his side, walking around the car to take my hand, tugging me along behind him to the main doors. Tom and I peek inside, seeing the DJ who gives us a quick thumbs up before lifting the mic to his lips.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is time that I gladly get to introduce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas and (Y/N) Holland!" The applause and cheering are deafening as Tom and I enter, smiling at our family and friends. Tom lifts my hand in the air, almost as if he is holding a trophy, only lowering it when the sound of glasses clinking overpowers the cheers. He tugs me to him to press a kiss to my lips, the two of us melting instantly at the feeling of being so close after being so far away. The two of us pull away giggling, until a pair of arms are suddenly around my waist, curly, red-brown hair being the only thing I see and I hug the person back.

"Paddy," Tom laughs as he ruffles his little brother's hair.

Paddy of course only lifts his head to look at me with a bright smile, "Tom has told us so much about you, I was the most excited to meet you."

"Well, it's absolutely wonderful to meet you, Paddy." I state before hugging him a little closer and pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He wiggles out of my grasp before giving a bright smile and jogging away. I look at Tom who throws an arm around my shoulder to tug me further into the building.

Its beyond beautiful, with thin white banners that hang loosely from the ceiling. The tables are decorated with the flower arrangements from the church and long dainty candles. Along the walls are tables where the buffet was being placed, as well as the wedding cake and other desserts. Lastly, the table where Tom and I would be sitting was placed closer to the back of the room, by the open doors that led to the dance floor.

I sigh, leaning into Tom's side before familiar faces and unfamiliar faces come toward us. I can recognize his family as well as mine and then from what I can only assume more extended family (or friends) from his side. Tom greets his family first while I greet my own, my mother pressing a kiss to my cheek before passing me along to my father and brothers, who tease me per usual.

"What was with leaving the ceremony so early, pipsqueak? Thought you were gonna share your special day with everyone-"

"I did, we just wanted our first kiss to be more, one-on-one?" I shove Mark to the side so I can hug Quinn and Lucas.

"(Y/N), you look positively radiant," Quinn states as she pulls away from me.

"Thank you, Quinn!" I whisper, smiling at her brightly. "You do as well!"

"Love?" I turn my head and smile at Tom, who has a hand out for me. "Let me introduce you to my family."

"Yeah, especially since you already introduced yourself to mine. Which I have some questions about, but for another time."

Tom chuckles as he pulls me into his side, my family waiting patiently to the side, "This is my mum, Nikki, my dad, Dominic, the twins, Harry and Sam, and of course you already met Paddy."

"It's really nice to meet you all." I say shyly, squeezing Tom's hand gently.

Nikki face brightens with a smile, her hand coming out for me to take. "(Y/N), it is so nice to put and face, and well I guess a name too. Tom hasn't stopped talking about you since he told us you two were getting married. Is it okay to hug you? I mean you are my daughter-in-law now-"

"Yes, absolutely," I giggle, meeting her halfway. After I turn to her husband who just pulls me straight into a hug.

"It's nice to finally meet you, (Y/N). Welcome to the family, and feel free to call me Dom, Dominic is just too formal."

"Okay," I giggle before looking at the twins.

Sam gives me a small smile. "It's really nice to meet you, (Y/N)."

"Nice to add a sister to the family." Harry chuckles, before getting called by someone else. The two of them grinning at me before disappearing into the crowd.

Nikki and Dom begin talking to my family, already growing comfortable with their new in laws as Tom tugs me to walk further into the barn. However, within a few minutes, we both get separated, talking to people in our own lives. Between a mixture of 'how did you manage to get such a catch,' 'dude, there are literal celebrities here,' and 'how's it feel to be married?'

After a bit of mingling, I had somehow made my way to the back of the room where the bride and groom table sat. I smile at the decorations on the table, matching the decorations on the other tables besides the Mr. and Mrs. glasses. A pair of arms wrapping around my waist causes a squeak to escape, my hands flying to their wrists.

"Hey, love," Tom mutters into my neck, pressing a quick kiss against my cheek. "They want to do the little speech segment then we are going to have food. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect," I whisper, turning in his arms to press a quick kiss to his lips. When I pull away, he leans forward again to connect our lips gently, smiling as he kisses me. Once he pulls away, I giggle at him, taking his hand and lead him to sit down.

The next half hour was filled with stories about Tom and I, some sentimental, some funny, and some just downright embarrassing. I couldn't count how many times I hid my face into Tom's neck when my brothers told some significant stories from our childhood. Of course, each person that came up had to introduce themselves, say who they knew, and how long they had known either Tom or me. By the time my Grandma had walked up to give her little pre-meal speech, everyone felt more comfortable. Our favorite people mingling together as if they had known each other all their lives.

"-Now, with that being said, whoever eats the fastest gets the most!" There is a small cheer from my family, and a few friends who know the phrase as my grandma passes the mic back to Hazel who lets everyone know that the tables will be dismissed by her and Todd after Tom and I have gotten partway through the line.

Tom places a hand on the small of my back, leading me to the buffet table. His head tilts toward mine until his mouth is directly next to my ear, "Whoever eats the fastest?"

"Gets the most, it's something my Grandma says at every holiday meal. It something she hopes will get passed on, and I honestly, I will be using it." I giggle, grabbing a plate and starting first with the abundance of food that not only will feed however many people we have here, but will also make sure there is at least something that everyone will like. Once halfway through, a few tables are allowed to come up to grab food, following behind us and talking together quietly. When Tom and I sit down, I take the time to look over the room at the people who have been sharing in our special day. I can see my friends from high school and college laughing together about something, my family talking with Tom's like it is natural, and our other guests happily chatting along with others.

The sound of clinking glasses fills the air again, making Tom chuckle beside me. "How many are we going to let them get for free before they have to start demonstrating?"

"One more, I think. Three for three, yeah?" I hum as he cups my face in one hand before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.

"Aww c'mon, we know you have more in you than that, Holland!"

Tom cups his hands over his mouth to yell, "Shut up, Mackie!" Which gets the whole room erupting with laughter. He gives me a mischievous look before motioning to the DJ, who brings him a microphone. There as a small murmur of laughter until Tom brings it to his lips. "I'd like to make an announcement, for anyone thinking that just clinking their glasses to get my darling bride and I to kiss for the rest of the night, you are terribly mistaken." I can see people, mostly my cousins, looking at each other with sly eyes. "We are changing the rules a bit. If you want us to kiss, you will have to demonstrate it for us. I mean," he glances at me before shooting a wink, "We have just met, after all."

There is a familiar silence, the kind that happens when you are going to get pranked or something you know will happen happens. And of course, it does, and a loud laugh is falling past my lips as Tom covers his face, laughing as well when Robert Downey Jr. stands up at his table. The rest of the cast that is sitting at the table cheer, which only gets added to when he grabs his wife and drags her to the back of the room where we sit. He stands before us and with a fashion only Robert can pull off, winks at the two of us before gripping his wife's waist and dipping her. He kisses her passionately, so much so that I hide my face into Tom's neck for a few seconds while I giggle uncontrollably, hiding my blushing face. Once he brings Susan to a standing position, he looks at us with an amused smile. "How's that for a kiss, you two?"

I'm shaking my head, not able to comprehend what I just witnessed. Tom gives me a small smile before offering his hand to me. Standing, he pulls me so we are in front of the table and grins at Robert. "Actually, I will do you one better." Tom turns back toward me and places both hands on either side of my face before kissing me. It's slow, deepening softly before he moves a hand away from my face and to my waist, where it drags slowly until it is on the opposite side. Tom then dips me, causing my one of my arms to loop around his neck and the other hand to grab at the front of his dress shirt to keep me balanced. After a few seconds longer, Tom brings me back to standing before pulling away, his face as flushed as I feel. "How's that for a passionate kiss?" He whispers with a grin.

"You're lucky I love you." I whisper back, pinching his chin between my thumb and pointer finger. The room is hooting and hollering, with a mixture of people yelling for us to get a room, but Tom and I are smiling like love-struck kids who have fallen in love for the first time.

"Not bad, Tom. Not bad at all." Robert laughs, tugging Tom away from me to hug him and Susan smiles at me gently before pulling me into a hug as well, whispering a soft 'congratulations' in my ear.

"Now don't forget about me, Mrs. Holland." Robert jokes, motioning for me after letting go of Tom. I laugh and walk into his arms to hug him, him squeezing me to his chest before pressing a kiss to my temple. "You're basically one of my kids now too, I hope you know."

"Don't think I mind that." I laugh, pulling away from him softly, giving him a small smile before pulling away and grabbing Tom's hand to drag him behind our table again to eat. I grab the mic, lifting it to my lips. "I think we all would greatly appreciate if we could just eat, then you can tap your glasses if you really want us to kiss again." The crowd giggles, a few people nodding as I hand the mic back to Todd.

Tom leans into my side, his lips hovering over my ear. "I love you."

"I love you too." I whisper back, bringing a bite of food to my lips as he rests an hand on my knee.

Tom and I begin to mingle around, getting pulled away from each other more times than we wander together. After a while, the sound of someone tapping the mic pulls us away from our conversations.

"I think now is a perfect time to let our new couple share their first official dance." Todd smiles at the two of us from behind the DJ booth.

I see Tom smile across the room, slowly making his way to the dance floor. Once we are out of the crowd, he takes my hand, turning us until we are facing one another, Yours by Russell Dickerson begins to play, making me smile. I raise my right hand to place in his left, while my left falls to his shoulder and his right falls to my waist.

"Nice song choice, love."

"You said I could choose, and I chose sappy." I giggle, my forehead resting against his. He let out a content hum, bumping his nose against my own.

"You know, I think everyone is enjoying themselves. Haven't heard any fussing from anyone."

"Indeed, it's nice to see that everyone is having a good time."

Tom hums, leaning into me to kiss my lips gently, "I don't think I will ever get sick of this, of you. I love you, so much (Y/N)."

"I love you too, Tom." I whisper, leaning into him so my head rests against his shoulder, listening to his calm heartbeat and the sound of the song coming to a conclusion around us. Once the song officially ends, the DJ calls my father out onto the dance floor, beginning the daddy-daughter dance to Butterfly Kisses. He cries, but he assures me it's not because he is sad. No, he promises he is happy for me, he just regrets not being with me the last few months.

"I want to make up for it-"

"You already have, you're here after all."

When the song ends, my dad leads me off the dance floor so Tom and his mum can have their dance, the two of them laugh together, and I can't help but smile at them. The next hour consists of Tom and I roaming around, cutting our cake which led to him having frosting on his nose, and getting time to find Hazel and Todd who have been hiding since the announcement of the first dance and thank them again.

"Ladies, I think it is time to make your way to the dance floor, the bride is going to throw her bouquet!" Hazel calls out, smiling excitedly.

I giggle as my friends and family, as well as Tom's join me on the floor. It doesn't come as a surprise for me when the flowers land in Mae's arms, especially after her and her boyfriend, Anthony, have been dating for seven years. When it's time for Tom to get the garter, he jokes with me beforehand. Squeezing my ankle and muttering, "It's okay," before ducking under my skirt and dragging the piece of fabric down my thigh. Once in hand, he aims it straight into Anthony unsuspecting face. He and Mae blush wildly, but they go along with it, except only slipping it up her leg with his hands and not his teeth.

As one final hurrah, the DJ calls out one final group activity before he just plays songs for the remainder of the night. "Ladies and Gents, we are going to be doing the dollar dance with our lovely couple. The dollar dance is plain and simple, pay a dollar to each person's jar which are held by Hazel and Todd. Then you will get in line and have about a minute with these lovely people. Now, let's go."

I let out a laugh as Dancing Queen starts playing, Celine practically running to drop her dollar in the box first. However, Mark beats her to it.

"You think I would let you out of here without a dance, pipsqueak?"

"Nah, you'd drag my ass back in here just to get it."

The same continues on with friends and family, most of which just have general conversations with me. It doesn't surprise me when I start to get some of Tom's in the mix.

"You know, Tom did pretty good about coming and saying hello to everyone he knows but not about dragging you along with him." Zendaya laughs as she takes my hand and sways with me.

I laugh, "We kept getting separated from each other, figured we would eventually get around to everyone."

"That's true, when he made it over to our table, he went to introduce you to us, but you had gotten pulled away to some other people, and he was very confused."

"I would tell you who, but I honestly couldn't tell you. This is the most I have seen of both sides of my family since I graduated high school."

The two of us laugh, before someone clears their throat. "Daya, I think it's my turn-"

"Nope, I put in two dollars, I get another minute, Jacob." She laughs, causing him to laugh. "Anyways, I believe we should have a girl's day when I come to London next."

"That sounds like a good plan," I giggle, Jacob scoffing behind us.

"Don't forget about me."

The more people filtering through, the more I smile. I get to meet and talk to a lot of celebrities from the Marvel franchise (that's a miracle in and of itself). And every once in a while, I catch a glimpse of Tom dancing with someone I know, laughing and talking with them like he has known them his whole life. Finally, the last leg of the dollar dances is coming to a close, and the last person I have the privilege to dance with is Tom's best friend, Harrison.

"I hope you know when he first told me about this, about you, I was skeptical. But," his eyes scan the room as he sways us side to side, "I should have put more faith in him, you really made him happy when he really wasn't. I hope we can become friends too; I have plenty of embarrassing stories to share with you." He smiles mischievously at me, causing my head to fall back with a loud laugh.

"I cannot wait to hear those, and I can get where you wouldn't be too excited that he was meeting, dating, and marrying a stranger. I'm just thankful you stuck around."

"He's my best friend, I don't think I could leave him if I tried."

"I think we will both end up with a lot of fun stories to tell each other as life goes on."

Harrison laughs, "I think we might just get along just fine, (Y/N)."

As the night drags on, I start to get tired. The adrenaline and excitement of the day wearing off into contentment. Someone starts tapping their glass from across the room, and my eyes scan the crowd to find Tom, but come up empty handed. The clacking becomes louder, and I roll my eyes, finding Tom slipping through the crowd toward me, his eyes sparkling under the fairy lights. "I'm glad you are coming to me 'cause I had no clue where you were at." I laugh, my hand cupping his face as he leans down to press a soft kiss to my lips.

He smiles at me when he pulls away, "I was talking to Todd, he has our getaway car ready for us. Him and Hazel are packing up the cards and gifts and are going to send them to the Heart Haven office in London. You ready to head to the hotel? We have an early morning ahead of us."

"I'm ready when you are."

Our family gathers outside, sparklers in hand. The two of us jogging to the car and waving goodbye once inside. The cheering and excitement dying away as the car leaves. Tom's hand rests on my thigh as we watch the barn and our families fade in the rear window.

"What a perfect day," I whisper.

Tom looks over at me and smiles. "It was indeed, my love. It was indeed."

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

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! I hope you have an absolutely amazing day! (And if you aren’t, that it gets better soon <3)

(Forgot to add the taglist on Thursday, my bad)

#cg writes #love without a name #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #strangers to lovers #arranged marriage #husband!tomholland

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strandedhaze · 4 years

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ONE : MEET NAOMI

FULL NAME: naomi june cheng-bradshaw. PREFERRED NAME: naomi. NICKNAME(S): most people call her nomi, noms, nao, nai and similar variations, elijah calls her nana. DATE OF BIRTH: may 3rd, 1994. GENDER: cis female. PREFERRED PRONOUNS: she/her/hers. ORIENTATION: heterosexual. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single in main verse. RELIGION: she’s not a particularly religious person. OCCUPATION: press manager for honda racing corporation. CURRENT RESIDENCE: madrid, spain ; she owns a house in the prestigious la finca neighbourhood.

TWO : NAOMI’S BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: marina bay, singapore. NATIONALITY: singaporean. LINGUISTICS: english is her native language but, asides from it, she speaks spanish, portuguese, italian, french, mandarin chinese and japanese. in some languages, she’s more proficient than others. for instance, she speaks spanish just as well as she speaks english. her spoken japanese is nearly flawless and though she can read and comprehend the language, she can’t write. she’s still getting around to dive deeper into mandarin chinese. EDUCATION: she attended the massachusetts institute of technology - also known as MIT - and she has a double degree in business analytics and management. CRIMINAL RECORD: clean. BIRTH ORDER: first. FATHER: charles bradshaw was born on february 23rd, 1971 in windsor, england. he is an investment banker who resides in between hong kong and dubai. MOTHER: sonoya cheng was born on july 5th, 1971 in sentosa island, singapore. she is a real estate tycoon who resides in between toronto, abu dhabi and singapore. SISTER(S): none. BROTHER(S): edward cheng-bradshaw was born on january 15th, 1997 in marina bay, singapore. he is a software developer manager and resides in san francisco, california. OTHER RELEVANT FAMILY: constance mizuno, sister-in-law. SIGNIFICANT OTHER: naomi is single. CHILDREN: none so far. FRIENDS: to be done. EXES: andrea pagani, marco ricci and aleix martin. PETS: none so far.

THREE : GET UP CLOSE & PERSONAL

HEIGHT: 5′7″ ( 174 cm ). WEIGHT: her weight oscillates between 127 lbs ( 57.6 kg ) and 134 lbs ( 61 kg ). BODY TYPE AND BUILD: she is naturally slim - courtesy of genetics and her fast metabolism - but, despite that fact, she still has a willowy frame. by no means, does she have a hourglass shape with a big bust, tiny waist and thick thighs but with a good, healthy diet and a workout plan ( that she, often, forgets to follow ) consisting of some weight training and fun classes, naomi has still managed to achieve a shape she’s comfortable with. she has particularly long legs and, thanks to all the hot yoga and pilates classes, she holds a rather toned overall body. EYE COLOR: brown. EYESIGHT: she has perfect eyesight though when the work load increases, you’ll find her reaching for her glasses in order to give her eyes a break. she also wears blue light blocking glasses whenever she’s working on a computer. HAIR COLOR: dark brown. HAIR STYLE: her hair is, has always been - and will always be, according to her - long, hitting the middle of her back, at worst, when she goes for a trim to keep its healthy condition and it has a natural wavy texture which naomi has learned to love. styling wise, it rarely gets too eventful... during the season, she’ll throw it on a ponytail or a bun for the race weekends and allow it to dry into its natural texture on the remaining work days. if she’s attending an event of sorts or going out to celebrate, she’ll straighten it or go for a nice blowout. DOMINANT HAND: right. NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: her lips or, possibly, their plumpness, her legs that often seem endless, her tan complexion and how it makes her dark eyes and hair standout, and for the rare occasions when it makes an appearance, her smile. SCARS AND MARKS: nothing outstanding - she has your average scars and marks here and there. TATTOOS: she has a lotus mandala on the inside of her right wrist, a symbol of enlightenment for her, as well as a way to symbolize all the growth she achieved throughout her life. PIERCINGS: regular lobes. VOICECLAIM: nicole elise. ACCENT AND INTENSITY: having moved out and grown up in london, naomi developed a thick london accent which she never knew how intense it was up until she found herself in massachusetts. the four years spent there, softened the intensity of the british accent and the nearly six years in spain also played a part when washing away what once was a proper londoner accent so, these days, it’s hard to identify what accent she has exactly. it’s more of a mixture than anything specific. ALLERGIES: cherries and insect stings, particularly bee stings. PHOBIAS AND FEARS: extremely deep waters and though it’s not a phobia, she gets really nervous when she’s driving over bridges. MENTAL ILLNESSES: none so far. PHYSICAL ILLNESSES: none so far. SCENT THEY WEAR: it varies depending on a lot of factors, such as season of the year, time of the day, occasion and, above all, her personal mood. during summer, you’ll often catch her wearing soleil blanc by tom ford or replica beach walk by maison margiela, and during summer nights, she'll wear sundaze by byredo. for fancy events, her go-to is bewitching yasmine by penhaligon’s, same way her go-to for nights out with friends is slow dance by byredo. whenever she has an important business meeting, she’ll wear cuir celeste by ex nihilo, simply because in naomi’s opinion, the scent is the definition of boss bitch and throughout race weekends, she’ll go for rose of no man’s land by byredo. le labo’s patchouli 24 and maison margiela’s replica by the fireplace are generally the scents she wears through winter. for date nights where she actually cares to put some effort in and is actually interested in the person, she’ll specifically wear reine de nuit by byredo or santal 33 by le labo. ALCOHOL USE: socially, she does. SMOKING: she doesn’t smoke. OTHER NARCOTICS USE: no. INDULGENT FOOD: she prefers to eat healthy but there’s no denying that every once in a while, she needs to indulge in some soul food. SPLURGE SPENDING: it happens every now and again, but she’s mostly a responsible buyer. GAMBLING: no. ADDICTIONS AND VICES: none.

FOUR : DIG DEEPER

CAN THEY DRIVE? yes, she can drive. CAN THEY COOK AND BAKE? yes and yes. CAN THEY CHANGE A FLAT TIRE? yes. CAN THEY TIE A TIE? yes. CAN THEY SWIM? yes. CAN THEY RIDE A BICYCLE? yes. CAN THEY JUMP START A CAR? yes. CAN THEY BRAID HAIR? yes. CAN THEY PICK A LOCK? yes. EXTROVERTED OR INTROVERTED? extroverted. DISORGANIZED OR ORGANIZED? organized, and she hates when things get messy. CLOSE OR OPEN MINDED? open minded. CALM OR ANXIOUS? calm. PATIENT OR IMPATIENT? healthy in-between and always depends on the situation. OUTSPOKEN OR RESERVED? outspoken. LEADER OR FOLLOWER? she's a leader, all through and through. OPTIMISTIC OR PESSIMISTIC? optimistic, mostly. TRADITIONAL OR MODERN? modern. HARD-WORKING OR LAZY? hard-working. CULTURED OR UNCULTURED? cultured. LOYAL OR DISLOYAL? loyal. FAITHFUL OR UNFAITHFUL? faithful. NIGHT OWL OR EARLY BIRD? honestly, it all depends on the time of the year. HEAVY OR LIGHT SLEEPER? light sleeper. COFFEE OR TEA? tea over coffee, these days. DAY OR NIGHT? night. TAKING BATHS OR SHOWERS? baths. COCA COLA OR PEPSI? none. CATS OR DOGS? both. NETFLIX OR CINEMA? netflix. SHOWS OR MOVIES? both. LAPTOP OR GAMING CONSOLE? laptop. HEALTHY OR JUNK FOOD? healthy. ICE CREAM OR FROZEN YOGURT? ice cream. PIZZA OR HAMBURGER? pizza. LOLLIPOPS OR GUMMY WORMS? gummy worms. BEACH OR POOL? beach. SNOWBALLS FIGHTING OR ICESKATING? iceskating. LITERATURE OR SCIENCE? science. HISTORY OR ART? art. CHOCOLATE BARS OR COTTON CANDY? chocolate bars. XBOX OR PLAYSTATION? playstation. FACE-TO-FACE OR PHONE INTERACTIONS? face-to-face interactions. DRAMA OR SCI-FI? sci-fi. HORROR OR COMEDY? horror.

FIVE : NAOMI’S LIKES & DISLIKES

FAVORITE ACTIVITY: yoga. FAVORITE ANIMAL: giraffe. FAVORITE BOOK: everything i know about love by dolly alderton. FAVORITE QUOTE: ❝ when you’re tired, go slowly. go quietly. go timidly. but do not stop. ❞ — heidi priebe. FAVORITE COLOR(S): it’s a very specific beige/tan colour, a champagne type of shade. FAVORITE DESIGNER: maison christian dior and acne studios. FAVORITE CUISINE: singaporean cuisine, all through and through. there are little things she’s more passionate about than her national cuisine, she often says no one does food like singapore. FAVORITE DISH(ES): hainanese chicken rice, laksa, hokkien fried mee and dumplings. FAVORITE DRINK: matcha ginger latte and bubble tea. FAVORITE FLOWER(S): lotus flower. FAVORITE GEM: diamond. FAVORITE HOLIDAY: new years. FAVORITE MOVIE: currently, it must be parasite by bong joon-ho. FAVORITE MUSIC GENRE: she doesn’t have a favorite music genre. naomi listens to a little bit of everything because for her, it’s more about the songs and artists than the genre itself. FAVORITE SONG(S): xo by beyoncé. GO TO KARAOKE SONG: kiss it better by rihanna. FAVORITE SCENT(S): the scent of gasoline, melting chocolate and freshly baked goods. FAVORITE TELEVISION SHOW(S): la casa de papel. FAVORITE SPORTS: motogp, formula1 and football. SPORTS TEAM THEY SUPPORT: real madrid. FAVORITE EMOJI: probably the 💅🏽 though it’s not what she uses the most. FAVORITE WEATHER: she likes that type of weather at the end of a summer day, when it’s warm but not too much and you walk around the beach feeling that soft breeze of air hitting you, and the day is settling down and all that remains is a wash of what the weather was throughout the day. FAVORITE SEASON OF THE YEAR: summer. FAVORITE PLACE(S): a close tie between her childhood home in marina bay, singapore and her current home in madrid. she loves the memories and how much singapore grounds her, how it freshens up her ties to the culture and reminds her of better days. at the same time, she also loves madrid. the people, the culture and everything in between. both bring her a sense of peace she’s very fond of. SUPERPOWER THEY WISH THEY HAD: teleportation. VACATION DESTINATION: if she was forced to choose, coppenhagen or amsterdam for a solo, self-reflection trip and anywhere in japan or thailand just to unwind.

#tbt / naomi cheng-bradshaw.

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pixie-skull · 5 years

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AU Disney Heroines # 2: A causal Day with your Cutie (no worries dates will happen)

Before I go, yes I am going to attempt to make this open to anyone, but this creator wants more LGBTQ+ AUs, so this one just if you and x character went and the character’s thoughts. Please share your thoughts if this good or not in my ask box? :D Here are the rules too.

P.s. Like mentioned in the first AU on Disney Heroines, I can not promise all featured like in the first one, but I try to list the ones that are fan favorites and please feel free to give kindly worded feedback. Lastly, I do edits with (non)Disney hand-drawn characters, so feel free to request. :D I kinda did the “what family thinks of you” here too. XD So two in one. I am aware some of these are borderline dates, but I do hope for date AU just list the character’s respected dream date.

Snow White (Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs):

*When hanging out, Snowy likes to learn how to cook a few things together. She not a perfectionist, but if you do tease her and try flavors without asking, she would be nervous. (kinda like Jenna Marbles with her cutie, I swear them cooking together is so cute).

*If not cooking then (very inspired 500 Days of Summer, down below) run around a houseware store and act like a married couple already, even though she acts bashful about it at first.

*At first a Grumpy (it is not you, it is him), Sneezy (you accidentally brought flowers once to Snow, that he was allergic too), and Sleepy (he felt you hanging out once with her, that laughing too much woke him) were not sure of you, but luckily Dopey, Doc, Happy, Bashful all liked you.

Cinderella (Cinderella):

*Cinderella favorite thing to hear your favorite little pins, designs, etc on various sites and saves up to make you something and even teach how to do a few sown tips. You act like you do not care, but you secretly make tiny projects.

*You give her letters that her animal friends (like her dog Bruno fetches it and gives to her) to the other and explaining how much you look forward to meeting “the secret admirer” who wrote this. Her (step*)sisters kinda like you, but her (step)mother does not, but you still happy to see your strawberry^^ blonde cutie.

Aurora (Sleeping Beauty):

*Aurora favorite thing to dance together, like walking down the street she hears a nearby song and dance a bit to it, but be she shy about it.

* She loves to go in tiny shops on healing stones and thinks of her aunts.

* Aurora enjoys the evening or sunset walks, the only downside she gets sleepy.

*Her aunts and parents all like you, especially when being aware she gets tired easily and take her home instead drag on the hangout.

Jessica Rabbit (Who Framed Roger Rabbit):

*Jessica likes to dance like a dork, nothing sexy because she feels so comfortable with you.

*Just get away the public eye and be just with you, so you both wear outrageous outfits. Her favorite when you wore a pair of rabbit ears and a colorful bowtie combo.

Ariel (The Little Mermaid):

*Swimming or even (yes an ex I had was like this, the first point here) run in sprinklers, while you stand watching and smile. The downside is holding her hand it is so wet and the respect side of your gets a bit wet too, and you try to not feel concerned about her catching a cold.

* Ariel loves more than anything to hold her breath in and see how it feels when inhaling.

* On clear days after rain, she loves to comment how clear it feels in the air.

*Her sisters' all different feelings of you, but secretly they all notice a trait about you that is complimentary. Attina felt you have a “good crown” or brain for how witty you are. Alama tries to socialize, yet a bit shy yet does say how romantic Ariel acts around you makes her happy. Aquata tries to make up for Alama and interact with you and encourages everyone to talk to you, while oddly enough by accident embarrasses everyone. Arista likes how much you think of Ariel and even her family, for when Ariel taking forever or late to an event (sadly common) she shows off her music skills. Adelle feels so touched you include, even not make mean (sibling teasing) on her weight. Andrina clearly being close to youngest goes through a lot of questioning and even has a girlfriend, she not ready to introduce to the family, but you overhear Ariel give words of comfort. **

*Ariel’s dad seems a bit standoff, like say little to nothing.

Belle (Beauty and the Beast):

*Belle likes to find books on your passions and if not that, then a book she feels like you would enjoy. This, of course, includes comics, graphic novels, and more.

*She may not be a huge talker, but if you talk about what she loves or her recent book, she is happy to fill your time in her enthusiasm on either.

*Sometimes you ride her horse, Philippe and whoever in front, likes to hold the other closely. You have a soft spot when she in front, for how much she reads her horse’s mini responses so well.

*Her dad likes to be playful with you, but if drunk, be ready for him to list of all facts he knows relating to a machine and try to arm wrestle you while laughing a lot.

Jasmine (Aladdin):

*Jasmine is outgoing, yet she is an ambivert, so after a nice walk around the market, she wants to relax in her home.

*Her cat loves you, but will play off as if hates you, but if you rub the right spot, this huge kitty is purring for you.

*Jasmine’s dad wants to get to know your family and traditions too.

Pocahontas (Pocahontas):

*Besides walks and talking (what can I say her love language is quality time and words of affirmation) she likes to go to dog parks and see all the different animals.

* She looks up what flowers are in the season and always plays with the idea of creating a garden or not.

* Her best friend Nakoma sometimes hangs out with you two, because of thanks to Nakoma you met Pocahontas and of Pocahontas’ exes (John Smith and John Rolfe, and even her semi-ex Kocoum), Nakoma thinks you are the most wonderful.

*Pocahontas’ dad appreciates your consideration and respect to his child.

Esmeralda (The Hunchback of Notre Dame):

*Esmeralda’s friends and you all hang out together and you quickly get along with Quasimodo and you joke one of his three dogs, Hugo, (the gargoyles) are cute with her dog, Djali (her goat^* and yes I am aware in the first AU I misspelled XD) and are couple and older happy men (I am sorry, not clear in the first AU). You even jokingly make a wedding for the two, while Victor the best man and Laverne the maid-of-honor.

*With her, Phoebus, and you all play sword fighting, while Quasi’s cheer on whoever currently loosing, typically you sorry to say, but hey underdog you do make Esmeralda play easier when just you two because how much Esmeralda’s find you cute.

*Sometimes you go to Church events with Esmeralda and not she pushes you to convert to her faith. However, if you are Christian, she respects that she likes you for so much more then just that.

Megara (Hercules):

*She may not have the most friends, but the ones she cares about, she is loyal to, as much she denies she cares about anything. So when hanging out she may at first seem distant, but gradually she opens up.

*A tip you get from friends is complimenting her and she does like to be a flirty tease, but this fun game of seeing who can out cute the other. Once you both jokingly teased of how each of you can name 97 cute things of each other to see who would win but got so each other face, you almost ended up kissing, Phil though put you on blast of you two to stop.

*She though likes showing up to your place of work or something and make you flustered as she gives you “the look”. Oh yes, that is your Achilles’ heel.

Mulan (Mulan):

*She likes to just relax, her family can have plans back to back, so do not feel her literal eyebrows be pulled it nice just hang out, drink tea and catch up.

*Sometimes her friends give you a hard time, especially when asking you do you like Mulan when more feminine, natural, or masculine. You do not know till later inside joke how one of Mulan’s friends was a former significant other, but luckily both are on good terms.

*Funny enough for a such a friend group of guys, all enjoy a good tear-jerking movie, while Mulan offers them all hugs.

*Mulan and you enjoy walking her dog, Little Brother and you jokingly call him all types of words like Dude, Kind Sir, etc.

*Her family, at first find you bit odd, but seeing you like Mulan, they warm up to you, especially her grandmother who loves to embarrass you both.

Jane Porter (Tarzan):

*You and her love to find little cute spots, like a turtle pond, and she draws away.

*When extra flirty and alone, you joke and pose and she too gigglingly to focus.

*Sometimes she brings a book full of haikus and it shocks you how such simple words strung together make such beautiful writing, that or you love hearing her British accented voice speak.

*Jane does get busy sometimes, so you have to visit her when she waits for her. Her father a professor, so when she waits for him you chat a bit.

Kida (Atlantis: The Lost Empire):

*You both hangout often at this cute little good well store, where she finds all types of goodies. Her favorite finding something and giving a fake history to it.

*Kida may act immature, but she seems so beyond her and your age.

*She loves to teach you self defense, even though sometimes she overpowers you even.

*If you have (sun)glasses she likes to take them and wear them to show off.

*She oddly can find any animal cute, even spiders she jokes are beautiful for their ability to make tapestries.

Audrey (Atlantis: The Lost Empire):

*Audrey may joke her dad wanted sons for boxing and wrestling, but she knows a fair share of both; her recent passion is rollaring derby.

*Every once in a while when looking around her home town, you are shocked how much she can recognize about cars by just looking at certain types. She even offers to help with any car related trouble you have or friends and/or family.

Helga (Atlantis: The Lost Empire):

*Helga takes you back when you realize this femme fatal loves to go fashion.

*She is oddly though careful with her purchases to not waste money all at once.

*However when a good deal, she buys beautiful dresses, that either compliment her shoulders and slender neck, that sexy leg slit, or both. She also has a huge collection of racerback tank tops and a few designs too.

Nani (Lilo and Stich):

*Outside of being busy with work, Lilo, and even the once in a while Stich, you two go to the beach. She tries to teach you how to surf, but not much luck, but oddly body surfing you grow to love. The feeling of being pushed gently over a wave to shore is fun.

*If she does have Lilo with her, plus their dog Stich, you all enjoy hanging out at a dog park and have a picnic.

*You love hearing the stories of Stich, for you joke he is more Alien then dog.

Tiana (The Princess and the Frog):

*When hanging out she excited make you try her new meals and even you learn a thing or two and she gives you feedback.

*Her few pets are frogs and she thanks you actually because you feel like a pet would be a cute surprise for her when hanging out by a pond.

*Her mother finds you so respectful and even already jokes how much hear the wedding bells.

Charlotte or Lottie (The Princess and the Frog):

*Lottie first favorite thing to go shopping and does not mind spoiling herself and loved ones.

*Her favorite place to go outside shopping malls, is seeing puppies and kittens. She would tell you about her “Big Daddy” give her pets.

*Speaking of “Big Daddy” you try to not laugh at his nickname from her, luckily he takes it well, and already happy someone makes Lottie so that is his approval.

Rapunzel (Tangled):

*Rapunzel favorite hang out just hang out in your place or hers, yet she sometimes does like to go out. Bonus if a good clear and cool she draws with chalk, yet if not then paint inside to the rain.

*She can be hesitant at first if a fun new drive, yet after a bit of encouragement she has so much fun.

*Her parents she was unsure how they react meeting you, yes her parents were missing her for 18 years and clearly show a type of love that kept their bond intact for so long, but she still understandable not too sure. However, her mother was excited to meet you, while the father was distant yet in an “I have respect for you and over time like you” view.

Merida (Brave):

*If the hangout has a competition or competitive element Merida is happy.

*Her own brothers, help her win and sometimes shock you in how they help you. However, you enjoy letting the triplets winning and do a dog or should I say, bear pile on you. They are still young kids, so not too heavy.

*Her mother took time to give her approval for you but seeing how much a positive effect you on Merida helped her warm up to you. The father was so happy to someone who takes his jabs and sure awkward smiles ensue, Merida secretly appreciates you go with it.

Anna (Frozen):

*If it involves new foods, especially sweets, Anna so excited.

*She also appreciates you asking her on if tiny things are alright like it can hold her hand, hug, and more. You are aware you could just do it, but her various smiles are so adorable you can not help but ask, it is like each tiny thing is a tiny gift for her. She also asks you too and the most adorable one is when there one piece of food left and she asks in a tiny voice if can have, you typically say yes.

*Actually anything new and bonus can do with Elsa sometimes just as to the two alone, she is more excited. Or in other words, likes you find events or ideas for the two siblings to bond over.

*Speaking of Elsa, she actually did not like you at first. She worries Anna see too much good in people and not enough bad to be realistic. However the fact you would check on things that could be so simple, she wished someone did for her, but to see you care for Anna like this, makes Elsa happy.

*She loves the daytime for walks, seems more energetic by it.

Elsa (Frozen):

*Very distant, she mistook your awkwardness as bad and luckily Anna helped her see good in you.

*You two just do tiny night walks (for some reason Elsa feels her powers more and therefore can show off).

*However she did struggle to open that side of herself to you, but when noticing things, she asked Anna to actually makeshift break up with you. Luckily when confused Anna said “it is not you, it is her” and accidentally implied too much. However luckily seeing you did not react poorly, with tiny steps to Elsa she opened up.

*Even though these hangouts are not quite dates, she does like how much you stayed by her side, even though she knows she can be hard to work with. No worries keyword above, makeshift, she does want to date you but gives it some time.

Moana (Moana):

*Swimming, dancing, singing, are her top three hangout ideas.

*However she loves adventure, so if you can suggest something new, she almost every time says yes.

*So much her family, minus grandmother, were getting worried but saw you always had each other back and were safe.

*Her grandmother actually loved how much you two would plan something impulsively, well Moana would do a tiny bit of research, but enough she understood what to pack.

*Your favorite aspect of Moana how much she loved her pets, yes simple, but she has such respect for the pig and rooster, you smile as they walk to you excited each time you visit.

*Her friend, Māui, he bit in competition to “prove yourself”, yet after a simple “quest” of certain rocks, leaves, and more to give him, he gives his approval. His quest was a leaf with you writing on why you like Moana, which after blushing, he liked what you wrote.

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*=I have older step-siblings and I do not like how stepfamily is seen as evil, I may be lucky, but I love them as siblings. ^_^

^^=Yes, in the animated movie Cinderella, had strawberry blonde hair.

**= Heavily inspired by these two artists and please look at their amazing work. :D

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(^ an idea of Snow White and you cooking)

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ocular-intercourse · 5 years

Text

OC MASTERPOST

Alright, putting this together you really notice how old most of these characters are, theres a lot of cliched and coincidental stuff in there that i & others came up with when i was 15-21. Finn got the whole brunt of my edgy scene teen angst phase... but then again Asher is brand new and not looking any better so there’s that. Sorry children, i love the drama. Also all of them being queer men is absolutely just teenage me living out my queer male identity through them before i even knew it hasghj.

NAME/NICKNAME: Finnegan Bastien Jeong-Bak / Finn, Junebug (by his fans) (his terrible mish mash of a name is product of his parents forcefully pushing their heritage away to make it easier for Finn to fit in, once they reached his sister they were more relaxed about the problem)

AGE/BIRTHDAY: 27 years / 17.04.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: French Canadian / Asian (South Korean)

BASED ON: /

GENDER/SEXUALITY: Cis male / bisexual (probably pan if he’d be more informed)

FAMILY: FATHER | Jin Hee Jeong | 48 years | janitor | very difficult relationship, for most of his life he considered his father to be a good dad till the drinking started and then the abuse, hes still not quite ready to let his relationship with his father go, so he keeps in contact, which often led to fights with Shawn, as well as the fact that Finn still has not outed himself in front of his father out of fear of rejection

MOTHER | Yeon Soo Bak | 47 years | owns a café | similarly rocky, they are now at a good point but he knows his mother struggles with his identity and life choices, so much she tried to manipulate a lot of things in the past but learned to leave that be, he is grateful towards her for leaving his father when she did. he bought her a café cause he loves her so much

SISTER | Sun Marise Haywood, née Jeong-Bak | 24 years | stay at home mom | he was always close to his sister, she just assimilated into his friend group in high school, and still is an important part of his life, or is again, they had a phase of not talking after some jealousy issues regarding his relationship with Shawn and her friendship with him, Sun is very protective over her brother and his mental instability and does her best to keep him healthy. That includes a very strict anti-Shawn stance, regarding the pain he has caused her brother in the past. Sun is happily married and has a daughter, a fact that somewhat relieves Finn, at least someone in the family that fulfills their mother’s wishes.

NIECE | Molly Florence Haywood | 4 months | A literal baby. Finn famously is not very keen on children, especially babies and goes out of their way. His niece however managed to steal his heart, plus he can just give her back to her mother when she becomes troublesome, the ideal arrangement. He likes to spoil her.. not that she would care at this point.

HALFBROTHER | Bryant Cole Reno | 7 years | student | His father’s illegitimate child with an American prostitute. Classy. But not Bryant’s fault. Finn learned of his existence when he was 3 and has since then sort of taken part in raising him, not that he would ever consider that to be true. He is very sensible to his brothers living conditions considering the bad stuff he himself experienced growing up, and does his best to ensure him to grow up happy and healthy, which includes denying him contact with their father (despite not pulling the same measures for himself). Bryant is a smart kid, overachieving, Finn already feels like he is dancing circles around him, and truly does not know where the kid gets it from.

FRIENDS: Noteworthy are on the Canadian side: His childhood/youth best friend Kitty (deceased), almost equally important Logan & Colin (all three of them share a brain cell), his ex-girlfriend of 5 years Emily (rocky long distance friendship atm), ex-affair & close friend Raphael (his voice of reason). On the American side: Close friends Randy (trashfire bff) & Jade (cinnamon bun), his ex-boyfriend of ~4 years Shawn (heartbreak!!).

S.O.: No one atm cause he is, even after 2 years apart, still very much desperately hung up on Shawn and not getting over that breakup anytime soon. Learning that Shawn is in a new relationship has thoroughly pulled the rug out from under him and left him questioning why Shawn managed to move on so much quicker (and if the other guy is more attractive than him). He also struggles very much with the fact that Shawn has made extremely positive progress in the two years without him (unable to see that the same is applicable to himself too).

I guess that still deserves an entry here:

Shawn Alexander | 28 years | currently Barkeeper & Musician | Shawn comes from a rich family and therefore has the polar opposite starting conditions to Finn, but nonetheless experienced many shared interests, but also miseries, from abusive fathers to drug use. With two general distinctions: While Finn’s mother acted after discovering the abuse, Shawn’s mother stayed complicit. While Shawn escaped into his heroin addiction, Finn developed an strict anti-drug stance after Kitty’s death. They were a volatile mixture, the good times were extraordinarily good, the bad ones catastrophic, with Finn quickly acting out when cornered and Shawn reacting aggressively, their fights were often ruthless. Finn has considered many times since they broke up that maybe people who love each other, even this strongly, are not necessarily automatically meant to be together. That does naturally not have any impact on his feelings or his lacking ability to act reasonable when it comes to emotions.

OCCUPATION: Professional Tennis Player (out of spite)

ABILITIES: highly athletic, good cook, excellent singer & musician, good technical understanding (esp. towards cars), fluent in french (native) & english, minor knowledge of korean

INTERESTS: cooking, music, sports, cars, video games, podcasts about movies, games, techincal innovations and whatever obscure topic interests him at the moment (podcasts, games and other media is stuff that he only recently discovered for himself, since his job does not allow for a lot of time with his friends, so that’s his compensation)

APPEARANCE: 6′3″ tall and muscular (but too lean for his liking, he cannot built up mass for the love of it), dark brown eyes and nearly black hair, currently a little over chin long but worn in a bun or ponytail (he feels like short hair makes him look like a child, but he’s also just too busy/lazy to get haircuts every couple of weeks), a prominent scar runs through his left eyebrow, he has multiple tattoos, a flower pattern on the inside of his right arm, a skeleton with a laurel wreath on the inside of his left arm, a geometric pattern just above his ankle on the inside of his right leg, more geometric patterns on his shoulder blades and a moth in the middle just below his neck

PLOTPOINTS: born in Montreal to south korean parents | best friends with Kitty (Catherine) | best friends with Logan & Colin | struggles in school because of growing up with multiple languages, hyperactivity and later problems with authority figures | free time either spent on the streets with his friends or with his father at his job as a mechanic | relationship with Emily age 13 | growing behavioral issues at first misunderstood as ‘only’ adhd | starting music (drumming, later other instruments) & sport (tennis) to make him tired | dedication to sport & music as compensation for bad schoolwork, to show he’s at least good at something | father loses job, becomes driving instructor | move to poorer area of town | added stress in family setting | with 15 diagnosis BPD after behavioral issues became increasingly dangerous | Finn becomes aware of his father’s drinking problem, often being the one to take care of him during and after these times | with 16 affair with 25 yo Raphael (in hindsight Finn finds this somewhat alarming) | more time spent away from the family, more time on the streets with minor criminal activities & drug use (in varying degrees, Kitty taking heroin being the strongest) | school work evens out through good grades in subjects he was interested in vs bad grades in everything else | with 18 family vacation in New York, Finn meets Shawn, they have an ons | break-up with Emily, after she finds out about his affair & one-night-stands | after Finn & the others were away for another vacation they come back to find out that Kitty has used the opportunity to kill herself with a planned overdose, Finn never reads the good-bye letter, he spends the next months in a state of emotional crisis and gives up on finishing school, when he can get out of bed he spends his time with sports as an distraction | Jin-hee’s alcoholism & job clash as he and a student get in an accident with alcohol in Jin-hee’s system, he loses his job and the trial, now having to pay heavy compensation for the damages, pushing the family further into poverty | Finn and his father start to fight more and more, with Jin-hee’s condition worsening and Finn provoking him, either actively, or by choosing not to carry his weight in the family and generally being an undesirable son, resulting in Jin-hee venting his anger by hitting his son | with Finn turning 21 his mother definitively discovers what had been going on, she leaves Jin-hee in an ugly divorce, takes her kids & moves to New York | despite everything Finn keeps contact with his father and has somehow managed to mostly forgive him | Finn & Shawn meet again & quickly end up in a relationship | when Finn learns about Shawn’s heroin addiction he wants to end things, but decides to give him a chance | what follows is 4-5 years up and down with two break-ups, one after a series of misunderstandings and meddling from Yeon that end up with Finn cheating, another one after a burned Shawn learns, after giving it another chance, about things that Finn has hidden from him, such as Jin-hee’s illegitimate child that Finn himself has only recently met, and a row of events unfold that lead to Shawn attempting but failing suicide | when he learns about it Finn declares Shawn as dead in his eyes and tells him he never wants to see him again | another emotional crisis for Finn and again he throws himself into sports to drown out the bad thoughts and make himself too tired to think, only this time he meets the right people and with the right support ends up gliding into the professional sports world | he spends the next two years building up his carrer like a madman and thoroughly enjoys being occupied at all times, as well as for the first time in his life having a stable and strict rhythm to his days, a healthy sleep cycle & positive reaffirmation that help with his mental stability.. oh, and he’s pining for Shawn of course

BONUS INFO: I created him when i was a wee teen but wrote him in different RPGs almost till today, so there were a lot of different versions and revisions. Originally he was a caucasian redhead, it was only years later that i put it together that much of his family dynamics and some of his character would very much fit a minority/immigrant narrative. He was always french-canadian, but in the beginning he moved to England instead of New York (fun fact: it was Canterbury, which is why i later used the city for Teddy instead). Really sad to have lost Shawn’s accent, but honestly it makes much more sense for the city to be so much closer to home. If i would call any of my OCs my main OC it would definitely be Finn, he is my obsession, there’s next to no days where i don’t imagine him in some sort of scenario, AU or canon. I am however hesitant to use him for anything, since part of his story, meaning Shawn’s character, belongs to my friend Mel, who i’ve lost contact with. When i was last writing him in a RPG i used korean actor Kim Bum for his faceclaim, and i still like to reference his pictures, look him up and you’ll see what i mean with Finn looking younger with shorter hair.

NAME/NICKNAME: Wendell Theodore Parker / Teddy

AGE/BIRTHDAY: 19 years / 23.09.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: British / Caucasian (or whatever the god side counts as)

BASED ON: originally comes from a Percy Jackson RPG

GENDER/SEXUALITY: Cis Male / gay

FAMILY: FATHER | Julien Samuel Parker | 45 years | cardiologist

MOTHER | Demeter | goddess of harvest, agriculture & fertility of the earth

STEPMOTHER | Katherine Marie Parker | 44 years | lector

HALF-BROTHER | Bradley Howard Parker | 24 years | author (alias J. B. Baxter)

HALF-SISTER | Amanda Carrie Parker | 20 years | student of cultural sciences

+ a shitton of half-siblings on Demeter’s side

FRIENDS: Rufus Whitmore | 19 years | Son of Apollo | Actually Zeke’s best friend and No. 1 in the ‘kick Zeke in the ass to make him stand by his feelings club’ which is why Teddy is phenomally thankful for the support. Maybe due to his dad Rufus generally has a very healing, hardworking and good-natured personality, though combined with a bit of a superiority complex.

Caspar Renier | 19 years | Son of Dyonisus | With Dyonisus practically being the party god and all Caspar is very much the agent of chaos in Teddy’s life. He lives for experiencing new and exciting things and likes to incite the same in others. While Teddy loves all things safe, Caspar brings the risk, but somehow the two manage not to annoy each other, but to balance things out. Caspar is Teddy’s best friend since the early days of the academy and reason for many good things that Teddy would have otherwise been too timid about.

Riley O’Donovan | 20 years | Son of Ares | Basically Teddy’s arch nemesis since the early academy days. For some reason he has decided that Teddy was just the right person to push around and pick on, supported by his twin and another half-brother. Teddy, being the pacifist that he is, and generally trying to avoid confrontation, did his best to stay out of their ways, telling himself that fighting back would only make them fight harder. Teddy was with them when the academy was attacked and Riley’s brothers died. Together they fought and survived. At their next meeting they quietly recognized that the experience had connected them and to let bygones be bygones. They are developing an akward friendship with lots of guilt and grief, that’s mostly consistent of helping each other out and, weirdly enough, unquestionable trust through shared trauma.

S.O.: Zeke... i don’t remember his surname, since Teddy is a RPG character he is obviously another person’s character, i’ll try to think back on more info. As a Hermes son he is the charming wayfarer type person, with a guitar on his back and a taste for freedom, i believe he was a year older than Teddy. The relationship is rocky at best and Teddy feels unloved most of the time but his intense feelings for Zeke make him want to hold on and hope for the better just for a little while longer.

OCCUPATION: Student

ABILITIES: [supernatural] control over plants and weather in the immediate vicinity, too much use of his abilities quickly causes hunger, headaches, nausea & exhaustion | an integral instinct about the beginning and natural end of lives, when he concentrates he can tell a person’s age, or if they are close to the end of their lives in case of a natural death. he chooses not to use this ability | his control of plants is quite trained, changes in the weather are mostly out of his control & follow violent mood swings. They show themselves as changes in temperature in his immediate vicinity

[other] low abilities in sword fighting (he shows little motivation because of his pacifistic nature, but has good instinct when it is necessary), slightly better at archery & hand to hand combat, good at riding & general animal handling

INTERESTS: monsters, he has an affinity for anything monstrous and creepy, in fiction & reality, as a unusual choice for Demeter children he wants to work with monsters in some capacity in the future | animals | plants

APPEARANCE: unkempt wavy to curly blonde hair in various states of darker blonde to bleached to grown out color, darker blue/green eyes, 5′10″, cycles through being slightly underweight & healthier depending on his mental state, his clothing style has no apparent rhyme or reason and consists of anything he likes, mostly color- & youthful, wears a leather necklace with a coin pendant at all times. he chooses to be mostly clean shaven, but has a surprisingly strong beard growth

PLOTPOINTS: born, officially, as the 3rd child of the parker family based in Canterbury, happily growing up in a loving upper to middle class family | only trouble so far is the inability to sit still and concentrate on school classes | with 14 he learns of his true nature and the world of gods & demigods | spirals into thoughts of being an outcast and disruptive in his family, considering his father’s infidelity and his ‘mother’s’ will to live with her husband’s illegitimate child | decides to run away after witnessing a fight between his parents while on vacation in America | gets picked up by Zeke, another runaway child, and as it happens another demigod | after sharing their stories Zeke reunites Wendell with his family against his will, Teddy initially resents him for it | the family reconciles, Wendell’s ‘mother’ confirms how much she sees him as her own son | Teddy starts to visit Gaia Academy during his regular school holidays, where demigods get educated and trained according to their special circumstances eg. myths, monster attacks & magical abilities | his brother begins to write about a fictional character based on Teddy’s life and has success with a series of children’s books | reconciliation & later close friendship with Zeke | big homesickness | a bad first romantic/sexual experience, the adjustment to the world of myths & the stress of constant change between regular school & academy life leads to an overwhelming sense of loss of control, which results in an eating disorder that he learns to control via therapy and his family’s support | dreams of becoming a monster herdsman despite his lack in battle prowess due to his strict pacifistic beliefs | is bullied by 3 Ares sons during most of his time at Gaia | gets in the awkward situation of falling in love with his close friend and self-proclaimed heterosexual Zeke, feels the situation is too hopeless and the friendship too precious to do anything about it | pines for years | drunkenly kisses Zeke after receiving a thoughtful birthday gift (aforementioned necklace) | panics about said kiss after Zeke steers clear of him for the rest of the week | turns out Zeke just had a whole week of gay panic™ and needed some time to come to terms with maybe possibly being in love with a guy despite not usually being attracted to men | Zeke confesses & agrees to a relationship | the thing is messy, with lots of sneaking around and no pda, even in private, allowed as Zeke struggles with a religious upbringing and acceptance of his new identity | as a whole Teddy deals poorly with this behavior but endures for the chance of being with his hopeless yearlong never gonna happen crush | meanwhile the world of the demigods is in chaos with wars between different pro- and anti-god-fractions | when an anti-god-organization attacks the academy, Teddy is forced to fight and kill to survive next to his longtime bullies | he & his loved ones survive but afterwards he is not only traumatized by his own actions and the things he has seen, but also the fact that he of all people survived while better fighters died | while the academy reorganizes itself he spends time at home and struggles with the discrepancy between his vs his family’s experiences and not being able to share what happened with a medical professional to work through his trauma | disillusioned he decides it is time for him to mature, when the academy reopens at a new location he dedicates himself to more battle training and after reconciling with the one surviving bully through their shared experience even asks the ares son for personal training

BONUS INFO: Oh, Teddy boy! He also went through several RPGs and rewrites. The first one was a pretty basic Percy Jackson RPG, with Camp Halfblood and all. In that version Teddy was a child of Hebe, and chose to leave his home in one of the many Springfields in America for the safety of his family, since monster attacks suddenly started happening. On his way to the Camp he met Zeke, they had a little road trip and fought their way to their destination. It was a lovely story of hurt/comfort with Teddy being helplessly lost and scared and Zeke taking care of him. An unlikely team that strangely worked out. The whole runaway thing in his current story might not make a lot of sense, but it was our way of incorporating the original runaway/road trip story that was near and dear to our hearts. I’m not sure why i ended up making him a brit when we switched forums, maybe because i missed British Shawn and had to make up for it. The new RPG obviously had a lot of changes on the Percy Jackson Story, it was just inspired by the idea of demigod children but that was about it. Again, since Zeke is not my character i am hesitant to work with this, also i would like to make the setting more original, though i guess there’s only so much you can do with demigods, maybe creating an entirely new pantheon idk. That’s the problem with RPG characters i suppose, they are rarely uninfluenced from other people’s creations, and often based on preexisting works, but i refuse to give up on him. When i first created him i had Boyd Holbrook in mind. (Which is very fun considering his look in Logan, i imagine later Teddy to look like that and what a big fucking ooc contrast that would be to him rn.) Here is an avatar that captures the Teddy feel during the original road trip very well, bonus the matching Zeke ava (obviously portrayed by Jackson Rathbone), bonus bonus a Rufus ava, ft. Aaron Taylor-Johnson:

NAME/NICKNAME: Avery Sanders / Ace of Spades (a sort of artist’s name), Ace

AGE/BIRTHDAY: 22 years / 15.05.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: American / Caucasian? (or whatever, the god thing, plus he does not know his dad)

BASED ON: said Percy Jackson inspired RPG

GENDER/SEXUALITY: Cis male / asexual (/ poly/panromantic?? he does not know either or really care honestly it’s all just whatever)

FAMILY: FATHER | Michael Hide | deceased

MOTHER | Nyx | goddess of the night, daughter of chaos

HALFBROTHER/LEGAL GUARDIAN | Dale Sanders | 42 years | ?? occupation: lying bastard weasel?? | Their relationship sure is something. In short Ace IDOLIZES his brother big time, though he would never say those words out loud but it is very fucking clear to everyone. He is like a miniature Dale, or trying to be, or trying to surpass him. This makes the last developments in Ace’s story very very complicated. He’s still kinda brainwashed enough that he’s still holding on to the hope that he’s just not informed enough to understand his brother’s motives.

FRIENDS: Benedict Bovine | 21 years | Son of Morpheus | Ben & Ace were roommates in the academy, and no friends for a long time. The Morpheus son was just too much for him, too happy, too optimistic, too intrusive, too annoying. But that’s probably exactly the personality you have to have to stick with Ace and not give up on actually truly befriending him. Somewhere along the way they ended up being best friends which Ace is secretly desperately clinging to because not too many people bother with trying to get close to him even with him being actively unapproachable. Ben has gained a special status in his life and therefore special treatment, namely experiencing Ace’s more positive characteristics and rare insights behind the mask.

Elisabeth Fendi | 22 years | Daughter of Nike | As a Nike daughter she likes challenges, and befriending or even dating Ace certainly is just that. But she had positive reinforcement by looking at Ben’s & Ace’s relationship and knew the goal was achievable. Long story short Ace lost a bet and had to go out with her, and actually kinda enjoyed her ambitious, competitive nature. She whittled him down to becoming friends at least. They certainly do not treat each other overly tender, but that suits both of their nature’s just fine. Elisabeth just kinda started hanging around Ace & Ben and the three are now sticking together.

S.O.: Well not sure actually, there was one version of the Story where Ace dated a girl named Liz, and Elisabeth certainly has some of her characteristics. But it definitely occurred to me that Ace himself has no desire to actually pursue a romantic or sexual relationship of any kind, but has no problem having sex if it just happens to happen. In another version of the story Ben, Ellie & Ace end up having a threesome under somewhat dramatic circumstances and i’ve been playing with the idea of both Ben & Ellie looking to enter a polyamorous relationship with Ace and him just kinda going along with it cause it’s whatever to him and he loves and trusts them and likes being close to them so it’s not a huge difference to him anyways.. which would just be Ace clumsily trying to show his genuine feelings for once and learning how to express affection, both physically & romantically and probably failing a lot. I think i’m sticking with it but i’m not sure about the circumstances yet.

OCCUPATION: Student

CHARACTER: callous | unimpressed & unfazed | has built up a pretty impenetrable unapproachable wall & layers of alter-egos before anyone can end up actually getting to know HIM | lone wolf | slightly misanthropic traits | paranoid & suspicious | fake superiority complex, talks himself into feeling superior to cover up insecurities | cool | hardy | streetwise | casual, mostly outwards to reaffirm his cool, relaxed persona | stoic pokerface | disrespectful unless respect is earned (mostly through undeniable talent in skills he considers worthy) | rebellious, tactless, provoking | trouble with authority figures | might not show his emotions but has no trouble speaking his mind even in unhelpful ways | critical, towards himself and others, actively looks for flaws | show-off | willing to learn & commit himself to bettering his abilities at all times | proud (of his abilities and his reputation) | long-sighted, analytical & strategic thinking | intuitive | resourceful | has talent to lead but decides not to, does not want responsibility over the actions of others | keeps his word always, to a fault, even when joking | persistent | humorous, ironic & sarcastic | underneath his fake persona actually awfully sincere, it just takes time to get there | pathologically loyal | protective, self-sacrificing & caring towards close friends | despite everything and unbeknownst to himself actually undeniably morally good & heroic

ABILITIES: [supernatural] control over shadows | sensing nightmares | Ace is rather trained in hiding in or concealing his movements with shadows, depending on the time of day and the contrast in shadows he can completely hide his presence, the later it gets in the day the easier it is. The control over seeing other people’s fears and nightmares on the other hand is completely out of his hand, it usually happens against his will and leaves him with an aftertaste of said fear that he then carries around for a couple of days.

[other] excellent speed & sword fighting | years of hellish training with his brother have left Ace with an uncanny reaction speed and instinct towards incoming danger, his battle prowess has led to many monster encounters that at this point are neither hard nor surprising.. and honestly kinda fun | musical talent | Ace has lost his heart to electronical music and uses much of his free time to create his own tracks under the pseudonym Ace of Spades. They are mostly rap & electronic mash ups and remixes of popular songs with his personal spin added to them | composure | at any given time Ace has trained himself to stay calm and not show his feelings, so much that at this point he can hardly stop it, which leads to many frustrated people in his life who constantly have to guess what he’s feeling or if he’s even feeling anything at all. It has also made him a practically unbeatable poker player

INTERESTS: music | big city life | close quarter combat | technical gadgets esp. for creating music | challenges | irony | birds | movies & games & writing reviews | dumb irony, he lives for it, he has picked the elective prophecy class that is meant for the demigod children that actually have some sort of fortune telling ability, just because he thinks it is funny to sit between these actually clairvoyant people as a clearly non-gifted person trying to read something in tea leaves or whatever that has no reason to be true, he goes very long ways for stupid jokes & stories that might end up amusing just himself

APPEARANCE: light blonde hair cut into a buzz cut for convenience, almond shaped light blue/grey eyes, with his 5′8″ a little under average height with a broad build, average weight, his athleticism is countered by bad eating habits and most of his hobbies consisting of siting around for an extended amount of time, almost perpetually wearing a pair of ray-ban sunglasses (he’s light sensitive and likes to hide his eye-movements, but also just thinks it’s cool, as an added bonus it seems to provoke people), his clothing is mostly athletic and casual but he also enjoys throwing people off with unusual pieces, often seen with baseball-caps front or backwards facing, generally not a lot of effort put into his appearance aside from maybe considering what would make the look ironic, also owed to lack of money, lots of his clothes are worn out hand me downs from his brother peppered with the weird shit you can get at thrift stores

PLOTPOINTS: Since his father died while his mother was pregnant she had to improvise and ended up leaving the baby at one of her other son’s doorsteps | Dale, probably rather incompetently, improvised and with lots of peculiar quirks, raises the kid in a tiny, rundown Chicago apartment supporting both of them with occasional part-time jobs | With his knowledge of the world of the gods Dale decides to prepare his half-brother early | Once he learns that that is not normal Ace spends some time worrying about his brothers sanity, regarding the unusual habit of teaching a kid sword fighting and testing his abilities with surprise attacks, but enjoys himself too much to question it (he never thinks about that the constant vigilance and dedicated training might be considered somewhat abusive living conditions for a child - might not have been healthy but it DID make him stronger and that was surely a good thing Dale had in mind, very normal, totally okay.. he is incapable of seeing, or wanting to admit to his brother’s flaws) | They live off fast-food or anything they can get their hands on, with occasional unpaid electricity bills or similar poor conditions, but with a strong sense of solidarity | School was not his favorite thing, he had to get out of his - in his eyes - fun unusual living conditions to sit still and be well behaved and listen to weird stiff adults, and the children made fun of his ragged clothing and general otherness | Spends his free time exploring Chicago, roaming the streets, getting into minor trouble here and there, or with his brother, fighting or watching him make music or play around with electronics, or watching movies, playing games | As is tradition, learns he is a demigod with 14 which honestly does not really come as a huge surprise to him, at least his brother did not turn out to be some weird doomsday nutjob and had a reason for all the sword fighting | Gets kinda excited in hopes of getting along better with other demigods than he did with the other human students.. turns out him being a demigod was not the problem in the first place. Does at least find some like-minded people in his half-siblings. | At home he starts part-time jobs to support his brother, starts making music himself, has several blogs with movie and game reviews, and of course the usual duels between him and Dale, which he never once wins | After graduating regular school with 19 he is not very motivated to continue his training at the academy, but is basically tricked into finishing it anyways, by his brother suggesting he would win this one since he himself has never graduated Gaia. At last, something to be better at than his brother! | When the academy is attacked by an anti-god-organization Ace fights easily and competently.. till he is faced with fighting the one person he has never beaten, his brother. He fights him anyways, conflicted by the feeling of betrayal and sheer disbelief that this could actually be happening. Naturally he loses and ends up skewered through his torso by his brothers sword. When he is unconscious he gets saved and healed by Apollo children, and the fight is over when he wakes up again. He first of all tries to find out if his brother was maybe captured or killed, but finds no trace of him. | When he returns home while the academy reorganizes he finds the apartment empty, half hoping for his brother to come home so he can confront him, his top priority being to learn why his brother has been acting that way because he still refuses to believe that he actually tried to kill him, and rather wants to think that Dale must have had SOME kind of reason that would make all of this okay. | Dale never returns. Ace bitterly sells all of Dale’s belongings to pay for the bills of the apartment that he is suddenly sitting on all by himself, which makes his home very sad and very empty | Ellie and Ben visit him, well aware that Ace’s entire worldview has been shattered and not trusting him not to do something reckless [enter possible threesome here?] | Ace starts to obsessively try to find out about Dales whereabouts and the group he was working with, both Ellie and Ben being annoyed and worried about him doing this on his own refusing any help or interference | Ace manages to find what he believes to be a temporary hideout for the organisation and some documents that he hopes to find further clues in | When the Academy re-opens Ellie & Ben convince him to go back there, with Ace secretly just hoping to hear more about the official measures of the demigod world that have been put in place to find and stop the organization | He shares the found information with what is basically the equivalent of the police in the demigod world, and exclaims to be eager and capable to join any deployment, but is of course refused | Instead he silently plans to take off on his own again, hoping to find his brother for answers or revenge, depending on the outcome

Okay, but here’s the FUN part of the whole story, something that Ace is not even aware of anymore: When he is 18 he finds out about his brothers activity in the anti-god organization (their name is rubicon by the way) and is as always immediately willing to copy his brother and join them, regardless of their shady morals. Thing is, they have a selection process where they have an oracle check potential candidates, turns out the oracle decides that Ace’s heart is just too good and pure in the end to make him an effective member. They alter his memories, fill them with a normal summer of an 18 year old Ace, and send him back home none the wiser that he would have absolutely done the exact same things he found so impossible for his brother to be doing that it ruined his entire conception of the world. Fun. I hope he does not find out.

BONUS INFO: I cannot begin to describe how funny it is to read Ace’s character sheet. Sounds conceited maybe, but every time i reread it, which is maybe once every couple of years, i make myself cry from amusement. It’s so stupid. It is completely written in his voice and it is fucking hysterical, he is such an idiot wow. His vita starts with a rewrite of Will Smith’s Prince of Belair rap, and that’s just the beginning. I wish i could show you but it’s in German so that’s probably useless for most of you. But please know that i really fucking love it and am amazed that i wrote that at some point. I always had trouble figuring out how i want him to look. I believe i used Garrett Hedlund as a faceclaim on the RPG site, but it was not 100% fitting. Dacre Montgomery’s portrayal of Billy in Stranger Things has some Ace vibes, but also not entirely. Imagine their lovechild i guess. I also never planned on him being asexual, the connection to his name was not planned at all, it just hit me a couple of months ago out of nowhere and i immediately knew it was true. Of course he is asexual!! Also i have not yet decided whether his brother is an absolute cold bastard, or if Ace’s instincts about him having reasons are right. Regardless, Dale’s treatment of Ace is not okay from the very beginning. That’s where this whole story started, cause i found it so interesting for the idealized bigger brother that just seems to be cool and fun to actually be somewhat or very much abusive, e.g. Dave & Bro Strider in Homestuck who were very much the stepping stone here. I really liked Bro when i first read it as a baby teen, and then later saw the discourse over him being abusive, and only then did i realize shit you’re right in actual real life that stuff would be ptsd inducing wow, in that very moment i myself was Ace and had my weird idealized image shattered, so i wanted to make a character that could show how easily it is to overlook this stuff sometimes. Also totally just forgot for a while how sad a lot of his character is, ppl did not like him even before he made himself hard to be liked so he’s very distrusting and negative towards people for a long time.😥 Better make up a weird persona for people to dislike at least they’re not disliking my actual self cause they never actually get to see it. WHELP most of my other characters are either fun or tragic depending on the situation, Ace is just both simultaneously at all times

NAME: Asher ? [he is still unfinished since i never used him for anything so don’t mind the questionmarks]

AGE/BIRTHDAY: 21 years / 06.07.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: American / Caucasian

BASED ON: /

GENDER/SEXUALITY: Cis male / gay

FAMILY: FATHER | ? ? | 42 years | multibillionaire business man / sociopath criminal | their relationship can very much be described as a hostage situation, there is nothing pleasant here, his father obsesses over his legacy and the idea of what he wants Asher to be and Asher resents him with a burning passion

MOTHER | ? ? | 41 years | unfortunate trophy wife | there is not much of an actual relationship here, since he started art school they have pretty much not talked a single word, he resents her for being distant and quiet and complicit in his father’s behavior

SISTER | Claire ? | 22 years | various creative part time jobs | the one that luckily got away!! Claire dodged a major bullet and got out of there as soon as she could, living her dream as a independent artist in various fields from writing plays to performance art, Asher adores her & would never tell her about the truth of his situation since she got out of there unscathed, they call each other regularly, but don’t see each other as much as they would like to, she is a big reason for his own interest in art

SISTER | Stella ? | 5 years | Kindergartener | Stella is loud and quick and knows no boundaries, a happy energetic little girl. Asher probably spoils her.

BROTHER | Leo ? | 5 years | Kindergartener | Stella’s twin brother but the polar opposite. Timid, soft-spoken and kindhearted. Asher probably spoils him too. Asher is also fiercely overprotective in regards to his brother, cause he knows how his father likes to treat his sons. Luckily he also knows that his father would takes his sweet time before revealing his true self, but he dreads the possibility of his father involving his brother earlier nonetheless.

FRIENDS: May ? | 21 years | photography student | awfully loyal, May comes from a rich family herself and can therefore understand or excuse a lot of Asher’s less pleasant traits, she is too stubborn to let him push her away and is glad he has mostly given up towards her, now she just has to get him to treat others the same way. knows he has troubles with his father, but does not know the specifics since Asher would rather take that info to his grave to protect her. is worried, always, since Adam disappeared, but has no other solution but soft encouragement for Asher to move on

S.O.: Devin ? | 20 years | animation student | Half Mexican/Half Afro-American. Anxiety kid, moves to his father’s new family & his sister because they live closer to his future art school, falls in love with the wrong white boy. Big nerd, big introvert, all about anime & games, spends more time on the internet than anywhere else (sound familiar anybody?🙈). Romanticizes the wrong behaviors. Draws, a lot, any given time, super talented, Asher envies him. Big cuddly, kind, somewhat shy and self-conscious, cannot say no or be mean most of the time. Just 100% good soul. Shows Asher the wonderful world of fiction and other entertainment cause that guy apparently grew up in a cave. Asher is 100% hurt and Devin is 100% comfort, Asher feels bad about that. Devin is impressively patient and supportive and the sole reason Asher can breathe again. Sometimes. Asher does not know what he could possibly be bringing to the table but Devin seems content, Asher does not understand why.

OCCUPATION: Student of Photography/Economics Night school

CHARACTER: i feel like Asher needs two separate character descriptions since he’s living in extreme circumstances that have greatly changed his characteristics over the course of a year or two, but i’m sticking with Asher today, just know that he used to be happy, carefree, outgoing, a huge charmer, even a flirt, remnants of some of these more positive traits can still be found if you catch him in the right moment.. and then there’s the things he mostly pretends to be that don’t really belong there either, but i guess that shows how others perceive him

ABILITIES: His father’s irrevocable antiquated notion of how a person of his status has to be educated resulted in a flashflood of tutors from the moment Asher was capable of learning things, involving classical music, several languages, riding, sailing, debating and the more exceptional choices of self-defense through various ways including knife and gun handling, owed to his father’s choice of a rather dangerous lifestyle. The only ability that grew out of his own interests is anything regarding photography. He also has the uncanny ability to switch personas in an instant, he can go from cold asshole to so charming that it puts others at ease, to collected proud superior son in a second, depending on what is needed, these different modes are crucial for his survival.

APPEARANCE: Groomed snobby rich boy that looks down on you. Black hair, pale blue eyes, 6′0″ tall, lean. Judging by his clothes alone obviously wealthy. Mostly somewhat sophisticated with lots of dress shirts and classy cuts. A serious young man! Contrasted by more relaxed clothing choices in his personal space. Mostly black & darker colors. Tattoo of a dead raven on the inside of his right underarm, he hides it in front of his father who hates it. Unquestionably a pretty boy™ but Asher has grown to detest his looks, avoiding mirrors or photographs. He looks too much like his father. Has dimples if he smiles brightly but nobody gets to see them anymore.

PLOTPOINTS: The most entertaining way to start the story is probably through Devin’s POV, and then explaining Asher’s behavior with his life story. Very quickly: Devin, moving to his father to visit the art school in an nearby town, is searching for a new therapist he had been visiting for social anxiety, through a work connection his father organizes an appointment with an prestigious therapist before the schoolyear starts. He gets curious about this well dressed tense looking guy he sometimes meets in the waiting room, and starts to hope to see him more often, but never manages to work up the courage to say anything, till one day the guy storms in mid breakdown to interrupt Devin’s session and demands that the therapist had to see him immediately. Devin uses the opportunity to get his attention for once and earn some bonus points, graciously offering him his session. He even gets a thanks later when they meet at the pharmacy, so he’s happy, and hopelessly crushing on this dude. With help of his sister he figures out that the guy is actually local celebrity, billionaire son Asher, that just happens to visit the very same art school Devin will be visiting soon. So Devin very much looks forward to that and spends lots of time daydreaming about getting together with Asher, who actually kinda seems pleasantly surprised to see him again in the school setting. Asher is distant, but friendly at first, and thanks to Asher’s friend May who is welcoming and inviting in Asher’s stead, Devin somehow luckily gets roped up into the group that sometimes hangs out with Asher, with him graciously paying for any expenses. Devin manages to overlook Asher’s more unpleasant sides, willfully focusing on the good stuff instead, not wanting to give up on his little fantasy just yet, with Asher warning that he would and should come to hate him eventually. What follows is a wild up and down of Asher either being sweet or an complete asshole and Devin being thoroughly confused yet intrigued, the guy is obviously troubled, often leaving class early in a panic or not showing up at all and generally looking like a nervous mess on some days, which just makes Devin want to get behind the reason for everything. On one of the sweeter nights he manages to get a kiss out of Asher, only for him to show his cruelest behavior yet the following days, either ignoring him completely or reacting aggressively. [Cue Asher’s Story:]

Born in a cozy coast town to a filthy rich family. | Firstborn son therefore in his old-fashioned madman of a father’s brain his legitimate heir, instead of his two years older daughter (lucky her tho) | Father puts every breath of his being into grooming Asher to be his successor, which includes high pressure, expectations and next to no free time from an early age. No failure allowed. Knowing nothing but this high pressure environment Asher just complies and honestly somewhat enjoys putting maximum effort into things to please his father and his own ego. | Somewhat sheltered upbringing due to wealth & little free-time | Easy time in private elementary school where a lot of pre-existing effort lets him relax a little more. He makes a row of superficial friends, but still spends most of his time studying, only socializing when socially expected. | Still very success-oriented in high school, but learns to relax a little more around newly made friends of less stressful backgrounds. | Gradually without really realizing when it began ends up in a relationship with lower upper class boy Adam, they later discuss and decide they started dating somewhere around age 15. | The relationship is accepted and free-time allowed as long as Asher continues to perform exceptionally well in everything. | Both boys share their love for art, while Asher starts getting interested in photography, Adam focuses on painting, both inspired by and potentially aiming to later visit the prestigious art school in their hometown | The twins are born! Asher is instantly smitten with the little creatures and proceeds to be a loving brother | Asher’s father starts to take him to business meetings and other professional settings as insight into his later life as his father’s successor. | Asher, most likely not unaffected by his wealth & prominence of his family, has some successful exhibitions of his photographs and gains a small amount of recognition in the art world. He decides to pursue the profession full-time in the future, not entirely revealing the decision to his father just yet, who lets him play around with his hobby as long as he brings home achievements in that area as well | goes into prolonged discussions with his father regarding his wish to study photography, who eventually caves under the condition of Asher simultaneously visiting business classes on weekends or in the evening | Both Asher and Adam get admitted to the art school (it needs a fancy name i just dont have one yet) and study there after their graduation from high school | The meetings Asher’s father brings him to start to kinda rub Asher the wrong way, as some criminal elements get revealed, his father’s comment being that it was time for him to learn about these essential things as well. Asher is morally appalled, but has not even begun to realize the extent of his father’s criminal activities, to which he begins to introduce him more and more in the following years. | Asher eventually fully understands that his father is head of a self-built mafia-like organization that seems to reach most of America in some way, and that that is the true succession his father is grooming him for. While Asher might be able to agree with some of these duties, he soon realizes that most of what his father is expecting him to do from now on are things Asher is not willing to do under any circumstances, like brutally punishing people for offenses against the family in varying ways, that Ashers father insists on carrying out personally to further his ruthless reputation and control over his underlings, partners or rivals. | For the first time in his life he fails to meet his father’s expectations and actively goes against orders which results in his father pressuring him in any way he can. When Adam suddenly disappears without a trace when Asher is 18 he immediately has the uneasy feeling that his father was involved, he did not however anticipate his father actually truly murdering his son’s boyfriend to set an example of what happens when Asher disobeys. | Asher has a complete breakdown, spends some time at a mental health facility, and comes to the decision to tell everything to the police, only to have them call his father and have him pick him up. Further tries to tell any authority about what happened end in similar ways, his father seemingly having control over everything or always being one step ahead. Eventually he threatens Asher that if he continues, he would have him convicted of Adam’s murder, having plenty of psychiatrists to falsely attest to his guilt. Asher refrains from trying to out his father, half because he was scared of the consequences, half because if he truly would go to prison - which at this point did not eve sound bad to him - his father would most likely just shift his attention to his younger brother instead, which ends up as the main intervention to Asher being able to escape the situation in any way. | From now on Asher spends his time terrified and traumatized, trying his best to please his father in ways that do not include physically harming other people. At the same time he starts violently pushing every friend or acquaintance away, to make sure his father would not find another person to use as motivator and punishment. May being the only remnant of his former friend group that refuses to leave his side despite him lashing out against her here and there in hopes for her to finally get it and leave him alone. | A year later there’s this black guy about his age that apparently has the same therapist and ends up in the same class at school and is genuinely nice to him without asking for something in return which hasn’t happened in a while and feels so nice he forgets himself and gets carried away, being nice right back, and unfortunately can’t help himself having lapses in his self-control towards this guy over and over again, cause he’s just so kind and warm and welcoming, and it feels so so nice, but instantly regretting it as Devin gets clingier and bolder, but still not being able to stop entirely, till he stupidly kisses him one night and immediately has nightmares of his father murdering Devin, which allows him to draw the line and finally be as repulsive towards the guy as he should have been from the beginning. I have various potential scenarios in mind for the following but they mostly go like this: Devin, trying to figure out why Asher is like THAT, learns about his long-time boyfriend disappearing last year and never being found, with the police claiming there were signs of him just running away to a bigger city, but Asher and Adam’s family believing that something must have happened to him. He deduces that Asher has developed a massive fear of abandonment (which in a way is true but way understated) which is why he keeps pushing him away when he gets too close. When he confronts Asher he just gets furious at the mention of Adam and eventually gets so worked up that he starts talking about Devin not understanding ANYTHING and that he has no idea in what kind of situation he could end up in when he sticks too close and that he should just fuck off, but Devin naturally just picks up on the weird shit and Asher sounding increasingly scared, so he keeps poking at the topic till Asher finally breaks down and tells him that his father is basically a sociopathic criminal mass-murderer and being Asher’s friend let alone boyfriend paints a big fucking target, and then he just ends up having to explain the entire situation in hope that Devin learns and just stays quiet but most of all stays the fuck away. Long story short: he doesn’t. He vows not to leave Asher alone with this any longer, and now that he knows that Asher actually likes him there’s no way he would stay away anyways. Asher still very much tries to convince the other one to leave him be, but to no avail. The rest is them finding an arrangement that works out with lots of secrecy and sneaking around and pretending to not even know each other (more or less successful), Asher panicking a lot, and dealing with a shitton of guilt, but kinda learning to live again and not just function miserably, and them trying to find a solution to Asher’s problem that does not involve people potentially dying, and Asher just dreading the next time his father calls him in and what he might expect him to do then. I have more plot points planned out but i’m just gonna keep them for myself for now. 😋

BONUS INFO: First i gotta say Asher is very much a character i created to cope with stuff when i was feeling really fucking low last fall. I made a character that’s hanging on by a thread, because i was, so i could at least use these feelings for more lifelike daydreams and give them more of a purpose and direction. The initial idea that sparked the storyline was a person falling in love with a clearly unwise choice, which ended up being Devin crushing on the dude having a mental breakdown at the therapist’s office (genius boy). Somewhere along the line the main character shifted to Asher because of the aforementioned reasons. Devin’s POV is probably really more entertaining though, since he gets to unfold all the mysteries that Asher is keeping from him. Inspirations? Uhm, i guess Life is Strange (a mixture of Nathan & the Prof, and the art school setting), the general John Wick world and Veronica’s family in Riverdale, god also laurel’s family in htgawm

#here have this #personal #ocs #teddy #asher #ace #finn #draws #oooof #oof that took way way longer than expected #might edit some things when necessary #adding friend descriptions for finn and family descriptions for teddy #but not n #ow #probably linking this on my page idk

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