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❝ sometimes i wonder if i just hate women at some subconscious level, ❞ mingi muses as he contemplates the end of another relationship. most people might be a little more cautious about announcing their potential misogyny to the world, but not mingi. not when he's approaching it from a clinical perspective. ❝ do you think that's possible? expressing hatred for something by using it and then tossing it aside? ❞
@profcnd ♡ liked for a starter
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❛ ❪ ♡ ; @profcnd ｡ ❫
it’s normal to have people come within the strip club at almost any time of the day, while it’s always more active during the night, there’s a decent amount of people who come through the morning. it’s pitiful but he’s already sat there at the bar, slowly drinking whatever the bartender decides to give him, already knowing what he likes after working here for so long. he’s long ago already gotten dressed in what clothes he’ll be wearing for most of the day------ always much different than what male strippers usually wear, never those stupid costumes. he always wore something a bit more... feminine. crop top, short shorts that hugged his ass and thick thighs perfectly, and like the female strippers, he wore heels, more of a preference thing for him. occasionally wearing some sort of makeup, whether it be eyeliner or a bit of brown shadow just to define his eyes, sharpen them or smoke them out a bit. it was his style and nobody would say anything about it, they know better. bringing his glass up to his lips, eyes scan across the section of the building he’s in, there’s a few guys and girls that catch his eye, but nothing too serious to get him to spend time trying to talk to them or give them a show. it isn’t until moments later where he can see a seat swivel not too far from him in the corner of his eye, a day drinker perhaps. out of curiosity, he takes a glance off to the side, eyeing the new commer, someone he hasn’t met before.
leaning against the bar counter, he sets down his glass, lips curled into a smirk. with being an incubus, he could draw people to him, make them want him, but he won’t this time, wanting a challenge. ❛ hey pretty boy, didn’t find anyone you like ? ❜ he asks, a brow quirked, fingers drumming against the countertop softly. he wants to suggest himself but he waits and sees, wants to see what he’s dealing with.
❛ ❪ ♡ ; @profcnd ｡ ❫
boiling beneath the surface, hoseok snarls, eyes narrowing at sunghoon. he’d been questioning him, trying to get answers from him----- it’s something he did, making sure he could trust those around him, especially in the world of gangs, never being able to let their guard down. fingers dig into his skin, enough to bruise. huffing, he nearly makes a remark until digits wrap around his neck, enough pressure that he can tell it’s a little harder to breath. heart shaped lips twitch into a smirk, dark eyes staring him down, unfazed. ❛ now why would i do that, hm ? don’t you like the sound of my voice ? ❜ chuckling, he swallows against those fingers. there’s a darkness to those bright green eyes of his, sharp canines on display as he grins at the man. ❛ go on, make me shut up then. ❜ taunting, he hates how it takes a bit more to breath proper, it pisses him off. there’s a twisted part of him that maybe in another time, he’d quite enjoy how sunghoon’s fingers wrap around his neck, but he tries not to think on that, not right now at least.
@profcnd asked: 🔥from rejin
“ ya, what are you talking about ? “ dongha scrunches his nose a little, confused and wondering why rejin is acting so strange. he shifts a little closer, anyway - it’s only to poke the boy’s knee a few times. “ what’s with that smile on your face ? you’re being weird. “ but he still smiles back - it's cheeky and playful. “ come on, let’s get hot chocolate. you can tell me about your new story on the way. “ dongha holds out his hand suddenly, waiting patiently for rejin to take it. “ you should feature me this time ! i’m scary enough, right ? “
meme + accepting !
Being able to relax sounded like such an odd concept for Jungil, especially with the given events as of late. The boy slouches low allowing the hot chocolate - never did like coffee - flow through his body. The aristocrat felt like a smaller child, his hand rubbing his eyes as he yawns into his hand. "Sorry, that wasn't very-" cutting himself off with another yawn, blinking away the tears. "...Should we leave? Take a walk? I need to also pick up something before I head home or a grumpy butt is gonna give me sass the entire night." // @profcnd >> sc.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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@profcnd !!
“one little massage won’t hurt, right ?” an innocent grin curls ‘cross lips, a plead in the cant of head and slight widening of eyes. his entire body feels as though skin is stretched on too tight, ready to burst at the seams in an explosion of starlight and stardust and infinity, and no amount of distractions can claim attention from turning inward. body stretches out slowly, wince crumpling expression from inquiring to pained, before the cosmos gives a faint chuckle, “i’ll repay you with food.”
STARTER FOR @profcnd FOR LIKING THIS POST
❝ it’s not that I can’t do anything with the information. ❞ he offers them by way of explanation, arms crossed over his broad chest as he leans back against the plush interior of his office chair. seunghyun wasn’t a bad guy necessarily but he also wasn’t a great guy and if thee wasn’t money involved he wasn’t about to go out of his way and do anything. that’s just the way the world worked, right? ❝ it’s just that I don’t want too. it’s weak, if you got something better we can talk but otherwise we’re probably done here.. ❞ a smirk, a condescending look that doesn’t suit such a handsome face settles there as dark eyes bore holes into the other.
i want the k / seokmin !!
@profcnd || kiss the sky || havoc → daeho !!
20. any of the above
daeho is going to kill his contact as soon as he gets out of this pickle ; it was supposed to be an easy job, a quick switch off of a one thousand dollar watch with an imitation one, in and out with no hassle, yet the owner of the expensive wristwear was smart enough to hire a security guard to blend in, going unnoticed by the thief until there are suddenly shouts in the air and an added weight to in his pocket. no amount of quick thinking can get him out of this situation completely unscathed, but damned if he isn’t going to try, isn’t going to melt into the crowd gathering just outside of the storefront, drawn by the sound of yelling.
the cosmos is out of the door but not out of the forest just yet, even as he shoulders past curious onlookers, even as he ducks behind phones pulled to videotape the ordeal and squeezes around gawking high schoolers. in the thick of the crowd, he is in brief reprieve, the watch transferred from its velvet box to wrist, a heavy weight belying of its worth ; box is thrown to the ground and kicked between legs, and daeho chances a quick glance around, desperate to find an alley to disappear into.
instead, eyes lock with the security guard and daeho immediately seeks a distraction, a way to blend into the crowd of people even further - a sudden thought enters mind when eyes meet a stranger’s, and the cosmos is moving before he can think twice, burning warm hands lifting to curl over cheeks and head dipping to press lips to lips in a bruising lock ; it’s too fast, too uncoordinated, the familiar taste of metal exploding across tongue, but he is relentless, a pressure and force to be reckoned with. he forces himself to loosen, to soothe the sting of the kiss with laving tongue, too fall into the press and pull of lips under his, to commit to this role.
he counts to ten before he breaks the kiss, pulling far enough back to scan the area behind the stranger’s head. “sorry about that.” a quick apology breathed into the finite space between lips, attention elsewhere than on the unwitting recipient of daeho’s biting kiss ; the coast isn’t completely cleared, but the longer he lingers so close to the scene of the crime, the more likely he’ll be captured with the heavy weight of the gold watch resting on wrist. he pulls further away, gives the stranger a cursory glance over, before grinning lasciviously, “can’t stick around but thanks.” but rather than lean in for another fleeting kiss as he so obviously desires ( to really sell his cover ), a little mock two-fingered salute is given instead before he turns on heel and promptly melts back into the crowd, an overwhelming presence gone as quick as it came.
