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peachypinkygloss · 7 months

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dior girl ✰ park jimin

Park Jimin is one of a kind. When he wants something, he gets it, no matter how hard it can be. He's not scared to get his hands dirty. If he had any morals, maybe he'd consider his obsession with you getting out of hands. But this man has absolutely no morals.

୨୧ pairing: designer!jimin x model/fem!reader

୨୧ genre: strangers to lovers, age gap (21 & 38), smut, slight angst

୨୧ word count: 8.1k

୨୧ warnings: unrealistic depiction of the fashion industry, alcohol consumption & mention of drugs use, manipulation & corruption, jimin isn't a good person (especially not to oc lol <3), violent sexual thoughts, jimin's a sadist (my fav headcannon :D), heavy dom/sub dynamics, hard dom!jimin, unprotected vaginal & anal sex, anal play (use of a buttplug), my new headcannon: jimin likes giving anal, dacryphilia, praising & degradation, oral sex (m), face fucking, aftercare ig because yes jimin's a sadist but he still has a heart.

a.n.: yup so idk if you guys were expecting that... but i did say none of the characters were ethical lmfao so 🤷🏻‍♀️ i really, really hope you like the first part, i've worked hard on it even though it's not super long. so please, reblog and tell me what you thought about it! <3 as always, don't like, don't read.

[dior girl moodboard] ["older" masterlist]

His studio is his sanctuary. It's the only place in the world he can spend hours in without even noticing the moon setting or the sun rising. In his studio it feels like the time doesn't exist or that it's just a futile detail that doesn't have much importance.

When he's creating a piece, nothing around him matters. The only things he's willing to give attention to are the placements of the needles on the fabric, the little lines that form the pattern of the clothing, and the way his scissors cut through the satin material of the dress he's designing.

He's thought about this design for so long and he finally got the opportunity to make it. He's thought about the colours of the dress and also of the seam, about the length of the hem and the sleeves, how deep the neckline should be and if lace would be suitable.

He doesn't even recall how many sketches he's made of the dress. At some point it was consuming his entire mind, this dress the only design he could draw and think of.

Now that he's finally creating it, he has the feeling that it's going to be the best piece he's ever made. He already sees everyone talking about it, saying how much of a genius Park Jimin is. It's going to be the design of the year — of the century.

He still misses something, though, and it might be the most important part of the design. He needs a model, the perfect body to wear his piece and present it to the fashion world.

It can't be anybody, it must be someone who's confident, who always has their head up and who radiates elegance and sports a unique beauty.

Jimin still hasn't found this person. He constantly searches for them, but never finds them or when he thinks that he has, he discovers flaws he cannot unseen.

All the Dior models are great, but not enough. They don't spark anything in Jimin when he watches them strode down the catwalk. He's checked upon the apprentices and the newer models the company has hired, but he saw no one extraordinary.

Until today.

He hears steps against the wooden floor of his studio, entering the place without knocking. "Ah, there he is!" A manly voice exclaims, Jimin immediately recognizes it as his friend's, Sungwoon. "I have someone to introduce you."

Jimin raises his gaze up from his working table and looks at Sungwoon who's accompanied by a beautiful, young woman. He's then suddenly interested, contrary to usual where he doesn't really care about the many girls Sungwoon brings, claiming each one as the new phenomenon of the fashion industry.

When Jimin turns around, he eyes you up and down, barely glimpsing in Sungwoon's way. It's all it takes, one simple glance and he knows you're the one he needs — the one he wants and has to ruin.

Sungwoon introduces you both and when your name is pronounced by the man, sounding so charming and delicate, he's certain you're the model he had been waiting for since a long time.

You seem shy, arms locked behind your back, but you stand up straight and have a polite smile drawn on your face.

"I thought maybe you'd like to get to know each other, right?" Sungwoon raises his eyebrows in Jimin's direction. "Everyone's fond of her," he smiles and pats your back, encouraging you to speak up.

"Thanks," you smile back at Sungwoon before glancing back at Jimin who still hasn't looked away from you. "I've been a big fan of your work since I was a little kid, Mr. Park. You've inspired me to become a model."

The way you say his name has his cock twitching in his pants, filthy thoughts of him spanking your butt while you cry his name invading his mind.

He can sense your vulnerability, your willingness to submit. Who would he be to deny you that? Him, who is so eager to dominate the ones he's attracted to, to break but also repair them.

He knows it when someone's fragile, hiding their weaknesses under fake confidence. He doesn't know you, but he recognizes the pattern almost instantly. What can be broken can also be repaired and you're asking him to break you.

"I'm glad to hear that," Jimin says politely, a slight smile tugging on his lips. He's not the type to smile — stretch the corner of his mouth upward to imitate the person in front of him, he finds it useless. But for you, he'll do it, just so you trust him because you're so desperate to give yourself to the opposite sex.

"Park, you were wondering who'd be part of the fall show this year," Sungwoon begins, looking at you like you're the most irradiant ruby in the world. "Well, you have her in front of you." You giggle softly at the man's words, nodding your head at him and then looking at Jimin as if waiting for some praises.

Jimin faintly smiles, seeing your eyes glimmering and he curses himself for not finding you first. You'd have been his by now, his to praise, to kiss, to fuck, to destroy. But he swears, if he happens to break you, he'll gratefully keep you safe close to him.

๑♡՞

T H E N

"Careful," Jimin softly says as he catches you up from falling on the floor. You let out a high pitched laugh, as if all of this is a big joke, and push him back with a hand on his chest.

"I'm fine," you answer, shrugging him off with a flip of your hand. You stagger from left to right, leaning against the wall when you almost fall a second time. You laugh it off again, halting your steps.

Jimin looks at you with a cringe expression, eyeing the people behind, sporting worried looks on their faces.

You all went out after the show; models, designers, directors, stylists... everyone. It wasn't your plan to get drunk, Jimin knows that because you're not supposed to drink alcohol since you're on a very strict diet. A glass from time to time isn't so bad, but your consumption clearly surpassed just one glass tonight.

It's not really your fault, though. Technically yes, since you're the one who swallowed all of the glasses of wine, but you had a little help.

A little help from Jimin himself.

When you weren't looking, he poured more alcohol in your glass and to his satisfaction you've noticed nothing and gulped everything. Sure, you got a bit suspicious, wondering how you had only drank so little when you remembered swallowing more than that.

But Jimin assured you it was only your first glass, so you drank, and drank, and drank... Until you were more than tipsy.

You've received nasty looks from your colleagues, especially the other models who weren't drinking a single drop of wine, and yet, still weren't awarded with the status of the 'face of Dior'. How ironic that the drunkest girl in the room was the face of Dior and the little protégée of Mr. Park.

Years and years of training, countless sleepless nights, meals that are as nutritious as birds seed... All of the efforts in the world to have your biggest dream stolen by a model who is in the industry for less than six months.

Their rage is understandable, but Jimin couldn't care less. In fact, everything is going as planned and he can't fuck things up now. No, because if he does, all of the things he has done until now will be completely irrelevant.

"I'll... I'll bring her to our room, you can go out without us," Jimin announces, watching you sit down on the floor in the middle of the corridor.

"Will she be okay?" A stylist asks.

"Of course. I'll take care of her."

He waits for everyone to be gone before he gets you up from the floor and leads you both to your hotel room. When you're in the room, he sits you down on the bed.

You don't say anything as he takes off his jacket and loosens his tie. He crouches down in front of you to remove your heels and he does the same with his shoes, leaving them at the entry.

When he comes back, he sees you quietly crying, the features of your face contorting into a sad expression. You've slightly sobered up, harshly coming back to reality, realizing how much you've embarrassed yourself tonight.

"What did I do?" You ask, looking up at him with teary eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

Jimin sits down beside you, lifting your head up with his index under your chin and his thumb over it. "There's nothing that can't be repaired," he states in a soft voice, so low it sounds like a sweet whisper — a secret, a confession only you can hear. "Right?"

You sniff, wiping your tears away. You nod your head in agreement, slightly reassured, hoping Jimin will fix your mistakes. Your foolish mistakes, done by the carefree of a twenty-one year old.

"Shh, baby, shh," he softly murmurs, cradling your head in his hands and gently laying your face against his chest. You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tighter and tighter til suffocation.

He strokes your hair delicately, placing a sweet and warm kiss on the top of your head.

Someone as vulnerable as you contains a lot of emotions. He has to deal with them, which doesn't bother him at all. He wants you the way you are; sad and pitiful.

"Everything's going to be fine," he promises, but it's not entirely the truth. Not everything will be fine, though it'll be in the end, he thinks — he hopes.

You eventually pull away from his embrace, just enough to look at him. It seems like you're searching for something or maybe waiting for something, your eyes desperately staring at Jimin as if his simple presence will make all of your problems fly away.

You throw yourself at him and kiss him on the lips, fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He reciprocates it, knowing you like your kisses sloppy and messy, wanting Jimin everywhere on you to remind you that he's always there.

You bring him closer, crumpling the material of his white shirt between your fists, moaning and whining as your teeth clash together at how roughly you kiss each other.

Jimin breaks your exchange first, both catching your breaths. His eyes observe you quietly as you look at him like you're still waiting for something.

"Did you do what I told you to?" He questions you, referring to your conversation of a few days when you came to his studio to try on his dress.

You were a bit stressed out, putting on the clothing like you were scared you'd rip it. He still remembers the way the satin was sliding up your body, hugging your waist and ass perfectly. He was baffled at how incredibly well it suited you as if he had made it exactly for you.

And maybe it was made for you, after all.

Because when he saw his creation on you, he knew you had to wear it for the runway. It has to be you, he'll accept no one else.

Jimin will make you walk the runway wearing his dress — the last time you'll ever step on the catwalk. After that, he'll keep you away from the rest of the world. He'll refuse anyone to see you because you're going to be his.

His forever.

"Yes," you nod your head, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Tell me what you did," Jimin softly demands, holding your chin in his hand, mouths inches away from each other.

You're too shy to say it out loud and that's why he wants you to tell him. Also to be sure you did everything correctly, but mainly because he wants to see you embarrassed.

"I prepared myself for you..." You begin, holding eye contact even though you feel your face heating up just thinking about all the things you've done per his request. "I... I used lube both on me and... the toy," you continue in a shy tone, so low Jimin wouldn't hear you if he wasn't so close.

"Where on you, sweetheart?" He interrupts, wanting each detail, each little thing you normally wouldn't have done if it wasn't for him. And all while thinking of him.

You swallow, "On my ass, Jimin," you answer in a whisper. "I stretched it out for you, using the toy like you told me," you finally admit.

"Good girl," Jimin purrs. "Let me see it then."

You proceed to strip off of your dress, now used to be nude in front of him, and slide your panties down your thighs, discarding them away on the floor.

You get back up on the mattress and position yourself on all fours close to the edge of the bed. Jimin stands up and goes behind you to have a closer look at your ass.

His veiny hands pull your cheeks apart, revealing your rim to his insatiable, sadistic eyes. You glance over your shoulder, curious of what he has in mind and what he has prepared for you.

You softly gasp when he spits and lets the globe of spit drip down between your asscheeks, rolling over your puckered hole. You clench around nothing, relieved to have his attention, to finally feel his hands on you instead of the usual touch of yours.

He sees that your ass is a bit looser than the last time he saw it, but it still clearly needs more preparation to welcome his girthy cock — though it's not like he cares that much if you're prepped enough or not.

He passes his thumb over your tight muscle, circling it and smearing his saliva over it. He wants to fuck it so bad, destroy it and do unbelievably violent things to you. Should he tonight? Should he show you his dark and evil side?

He's choked you before — smacked your ass hard til you felt your skin stings, overstimulated you to the point your orgasms were just spasms passing through your body, fucked your throat while you were drooling all over yourself, and tied your legs and wrists together to restrict your movements.

So fucking your ass can't be that bad, but the thing is Jimin wants it to be bad. He then wonders what would happen if the line is ever crossed. Would you endure it, would you defend yourself? Would you shut the fuck up and take it like you're asked to?

But you trust him so much — with all your pathetic being — and he thinks you'd let him cross any lines he desires to. He probably already has crossed multiple lines, and being the poor, sad girl that you are, you said nothing.

You truly are extraordinary.

He gives a slight slap to one of your asscheeks, groping both of them after, feeling how soft and tender your flesh is. "You did good, sweetheart," he comments in a honeyed voice that has you mewling, sounding so smooth and sweet. "How about we play with it a little?"

He lifts up a brow at you and you nod sheepishly, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. "Yes..."

"Great," he says in a low tone, running his hands one last time over your ass before going to take something from his suitcase.

"What is it?" You question, your curious eyes landing on the small object he's holding.

Jimin brings the object to you, something made of metal, the end having the shape of a cone and a pink gem placed on the top. "A gift for my princess," he replies, opening the bottle of lube he brought as well.

He applies some lube around your tight hole and on the butt plug, and carefully pushes the head of the toy in your ass. You gasp softly, feeling it slowly stretch you out, sinking in gradually as Jimin holds your cheeks apart.

"Mmh, feels good, Sir," you moan, arching your back and pushing your butt closer to Jimin.

When the plug is all the way in, the pink gem peeking out between your two globes of flesh, he smacks your other cheek, making it jiggle from the harsh hit.

"Is that so, dirty girl?" He wonders, gripping your hips and colliding his hips with your butt, sensing his big bulge pulsing under his pants. "You like it when your little ass gets stretched out?"

"I like everything you do to me," you say with a content sigh, pussy clenching around nothing as your ass gets used to the small butt plug.

Jimin genuinely thinks he can't find better than you. You were so shy in the beginning, looking like a lost puppy wherever you went. You just needed someone bigger and older to show you the way — though you were too dumb, and still are, to realize he was leading you to the wrong path.

It's not like you seem to mind, anyway.

After all, you both got what you wanted; you, male attention, someone to rely on and be protected by, and him, a woman to break and keep with him forever.

He lets go of your hips to unbuckle his belt, pulling the leather material out of the gold loop with the luxury Dior logo on it. He lets the two ends of the belt hang off, not bothering to remove it completely, and tucks the fly of his pants down.

He finally frees his cock from the confines of his boxers, springing up and slapping against his stomach, the bit of pre-cum escaping from his tip dampening his shirt.

"You're so good to me, princess," he praises as he wraps a hand around the base of his engorged cock, aching and begging to be nestled in your cute little pussy.

His head pushes at your entrance, never fully entering, only teasing your hole and stimulating all of your sensitive nerves. He watches how his cock stretches your cunt, your walls expending to receive his bulbous tip and then closing down when he pulls out.

"Sir, please, want more," you beg him, pushing your ass on him to have his dick back in you. You let out a little whimper when Jimin holds your hips in place, stopping you from wiggling your butt side to side against his thick cock.

He hums and slaps your ass harshly, your skin stinging after. "Want my cock in your needy little pussy, baby? Is that what you're crying for?" He asks, teasing even more by swiping the head of his penis between your pussy lips, a string of your arousal sticking to his angry tip.

"Yes," you say back quickly and desperately, arching your back, literally presenting yourself to Jimin. "Been so good, don't I deserve it, Sir?" You softly murmur, still looking over your shoulder to see his gaze fixated on your quivering pussy, cock head sliding up and down over your sex.

"You do..." He responds distractedly, licking his plump lips, his fingers touching the pink gem peeking out from your ass. You're always so good and obedient for him, he even wonders if you ever did something that genuinely pissed him off before.

When he really sinks in, his head passing the barrier of your sweet pussy, he groans deeply, feeling your walls deliciously enveloping his hard cock tightly.

You moan in unison as he bottoms out in you, his balls touching your wet and warm pussy. He bends his back over yours, running his hand up your spine, feeling all the little bumps of it until he reaches your head and shoves it against the mattress.

You whine when he starts pounding into you, his girth stretching you out so well, leaving you panting and moaning loudly. His other hand holds your hip against his dick, fingers digging into your skin, leaving permanent marks on your body — as well as on your mind and your soul.

He already sets a hard and rapid pace — fucking is never soft or loving with Jimin, it's violent, long, and agonizing. It's a way to be himself, the real and dark version of himself he hides in public and releases when he gets intimate with you.

You surprisingly got accustomed to it, embracing it as if it was your destiny, the reason for your existence; to be his personal slut, the little toy he likes to play rough with. And you've accepted it, like you had no other choice but to be fucked into oblivion by Jimin whenever he feels like it.

"You like that, baby? Huh?" He growls, as if you're the disgusting one for liking the way he treats you, ravished and delighted to have his girthy cock sliding against your velvety walls. "You like it when I fuck you hard like this?" He repeats and grips your hair, pushing your head against the bed covers with more strength.

You babble out something, voice caught in your throat, too out of breath to formulate a simple sentence. You then only nod, your cheek squished against the mattress, Jimin's hand still pushing down on your head.

His mouth hangs open to let out heavy breaths and his eyes are focused on your face, watching the little translucent pearls fall on your face and on the covers. Your pussy swallows all of his girth, clenching so tightly it has him groaning and saying profanities under his breath.

It's sick how it makes his cock so fucking hard, leaking so much pre-cum in you and twitching avidly by seeing you struggle to breathe. You crumple the bed sheets between your little fists, doing everything in your power to keep your ass up for Jimin and not slump down on the bed from the hard thrusts he's inflicting on you.

He snaps his hips against your ass and the entirety of his length is covered in your wetness, a white ring made of your cream circling the base of his cock.

His hand holding your head descends to your neck, enclosing it with his fingers, the coldness of his silver rings contrasting with the hotness of your sweaty skin. He squeezes a little, just a bit so you know who's in control, so you never forget Jimin controls you — that he controls your life and thoughts.

With a grip on your hair, he brings your torso up, arched back against his chest. The material of his shirt sticks to your skin, coated in a thin layer of sweat. He continues to pound into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy rapidly, as he holds you by the throat, lewdly licking a long stripe along the side of your face.

You shudder in desire, hair standing up on your delicate arms. "You're my little whore, aren't you, baby?" His mouth is right beside your ear as he whispers dirty things to you, his lips touching your hair, damp at the nape of your neck. "So fucking compliant... You want to please me so bad like the slut that you are," he mouths the words against your hair, cock pulsing hard in your cunt.

His free hand that doesn't have a hold around your throat slides down your body, passing over your belly and reaching your puffy clit. The sharp zipper of his pants graces the flesh just under your ass, irritating your skin and making it itchy.

You clench around him when his digits find your sensitive bud, circling it sensually and slowly, the complete opposite of his hip thrusts.

"Yes, want to please you, Jimin," you gasp, bucking your hips at the feeling of his rough fingertips on your pussy. He grunts when you address him by his name, loving how it sounds on your tongue, so sweet and timid.

He remembers the first time you moaned his name; you were sprawled across his expensive leather couch, blindfolded and hands attached together with his black tie. Intense for your first time with him, but it was also the last time he's ever been that gentle with you.

It was when his cold fingertips graced the skin of your stomach that you let out a squeak followed by his name, said in the quietest moan. He had then stopped his movements and looked at your face, an expression of distress painted over your features.

He had realized how frail and weak you actually were, needing your most important sense to be at ease. That's why he had blindfolded you, to show you how dependent you are of him, how impossible it is for you to live without him to guide you.

He pushes your jaw to the side so your lips can meet his in a feverish kiss, wet tongues mingling together, drool dripping down from the corners of your mouth. He continues to ram his cock in your now soppy and messy pussy, the sound of skin against skin resonating in the hotel room.

He traps your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whimper and close your walls around his girth once again. Your little hands grip the material of his trousers, keeping him close and holding on to something because the hard cadence of his hip thrusts push you forward, breasts bouncing up on your chest.

"Fuck," he curses and he suddenly stops, steadying his hips against your butt. You let out a whiny moan as Jimin lets go of your face and hips.

You're sad to have your pleasure ripped away from you so hastily, but you don't have the time to complain, Jimin slipping out of your cunt and pushing you down violently on the mattress.

You turn around on your back to see him unbuttoning his dress shirt and throwing it on the floor, revealing to you his beautiful chest and defined abs. He gets rid of his pants and socks after, finally removing his boxers, the only things remaining on him being his rings and the watch crowning his right wrist.

His cock glistens in your juices, more pre-cum leaking from his swollen tip and twitching avidly against his stomach. Even though him fucking you while being all dressed and you completely bare is a way to humiliate and degrade you, he also likes to be naked sometimes.

He loves skin to skin contact, how your bodies stick together because of all the sweat coating you. It's addicting, it's rougher and it creates more friction — more pain.

He doesn't mind being naked too because he knows how to dominate you either way. He doesn't find it embarrassing, on the contrary, it makes him scarier and hungrier. While you shiver without your clothes on, curled up on yourself, Jimin is imposing, his cock thick and girthy enough to split you in half.

He crawls back to you, hovering over you like a predator had caught his prey, boring his eyes into yours. You look at him in awe, always waiting patiently. You feel his cock against your thigh, thick and veiny, your hole pathetically quivering — missing his size stretching out your pussy.

He sneaks a hand between your legs and reaches the little pink gem, ready to get it out. "Take a deep breath sweetheart," Jimin instructs and you inhale deeply.

He doesn't waste a second, pulling out the butt plug out of your ass. You scrunch your eyes shut at the pain, exhaling when it's done. He carefully sets it on the nightstand, coming back to you after.

He bends your legs over your stomach and looks at your ass, just begging him to fuck it, shining with lube and arousal that leaks from your pussy. His erect cock is just so close to it and Jimin could slide right in with one movement of his hips.

He lets go of one of your legs to grip his engorged erection, a little gasp escaping your lips when he presses the head of his cock at your tight hole, threatening to sink in.

"Sir," you sigh, not sure if you're ready for that. It always burns no matter how good you prepped before and he knows that. That's why he's so tempted, that he's staring so obsessively at your rim.

Will it hurt you? Will you grip his biceps in an attempt to dissuade him? He wants to see those tears falling from your eyes again, he wants to lick them and tastes your pain. He feels more blood rush to his penis at the mere thought of hurting you.

Give him all of your pain, he'll fucking take it whole and cherish it. He wants it — he needs it. Accuse him for having a sick and twisted mind, accuse him for everything you've ever been hurt by because he'll gladly take the blame.

"I know you can take it," he says in a low tone, glancing up at your face as he applies just a bit more pressure to your ass hole. "Can you, baby?" Jimin asks, waiting for you to admit how much you want it, how badly you want him to destroy you.

"Yes..." You whisper back, a long shiver running up your spine as his eyes pierce through you.

"Yes, what? Tell me, sweetheart," he demands, and it's as if he doesn't care about your response whatsoever because the next thing he does makes you yelp in pain.

His tip has entered you, the burning sensation forcing you to scrunch your eyes shut, your instinct thinking it'll protect you.

"Yes, I- I can..." you stutter and as expected, you dig your nails in the flesh of his biceps — only fair to hurt him in return. "I can take your cock in my ass..."

You take a sharp breath, eyes slowly opening, all watery and painful. Jimin groans at that, stuffing more of himself in your hole. "Good girl," he praises, voice raspy, ending with a deep grunt.

He stretches you out completely, his dick in no comparison to the toys you've used to prepare yourself. You open your mouth as he pushes himself in gradually, tears streaming down your face when you blink.

The tears roll down the side of your face and Jimin can't help but be turned on, leaning in to kiss your face and collect some of your tears, tasting the saltiness of them on his tongue.

"Jimin...!" You look at him with the saddest and most hurtful gaze, tears rolling down your face. "It burns," you add in a quiet voice, now scratching his back, leaving long red trails on his skin.

"I know, baby, I know," he softly murmurs in your ear, a husky moan leaving his mouth when he's completely nestled in you, balls touching your ass. "You're so tight, fuck," he sucks air through his teeth, not moving until he estimates he's waited long enough.

He gives warm and wet kisses to your neck, descending to your collarbones and groping your breasts, slowly starting to move his hips. You lock your legs behind his back, wanting him as close to you as possible despite the pain he's inflicting on you.

He loves knowing it hurts you because it makes it more pleasurable to him somehow. The pain will go away soon anyway, that's why he doesn't bother to stop or slow down. You have to get used to the feeling first.

He wouldn't go too far to hurt you. The choking, the hair pulling, the smacks... He keeps it for the bedroom, but he won't lie that there's a part of him that wants to ruin your life, ruin everything you've accomplished so far just so he can see those sad eyes of yours and hear you ask him for help out of desperation.

It's not even sexual, he just wants to break you, that's all he desires. Though your life is something he wants to destroy, it's more of a way to have you dependant on him after. If your career is no longer successful, your solution is Jimin because he's the only person in your life capable of taking care of you both emotionally and physically.

His teeth chew on the tender skin of your neck while his hand travels all over your body, many veins popping out along his strong arm. The cool sensation of his rings on your stomach makes you shiver, his finger gently circling your clit to make the pain more bearable.

His cock slides in your hole back and forth, your ass slowly but surely taking the size of girth. Many curses leave Jimin's mouth, your ass probably the best he's ever fucked. You feel so good around him, you're tight, but you loosen easily, making it so, so pleasurable for him.

His hand that was roaming over your body comes to close around your throat and he turns his head to your side, lips brushing over your temple. "Yeah, just like that, baby," he mutters under his breath, his nose pressing down on your hair as he murmurs the words to you. "Just like that..."

A choked moan is all you can respond, eyes rolling back in your skull as Jimin splits your ass open, fucking his thick cock into you. His hot breath hits the side of your face, his chest heaving rapidly while you claw at his back, white scratches appearing on his skin.

He sweetly kisses your temple as he pounds into you, not tightening his hand around your throat, just holding you in place — always letting you know that he is always in control.

Your tits slightly bounce up and down on your chest, little whines coming out of you each time Jimin bottoms out. It starts feeling good for you — really good — and you think that this pleasure is totally worth a bit of pain at the beginning.

You grip the hair at the nape of his neck and bring him in for a kiss. He accepts it, kissing you back as if he wants to possess your whole mouth, biting and licking your lips. You moan into his mouth, twisting his hair between your fist and sinking your nails into the flesh of his back.

He backs away from you a little, his plump lips glistening in both of your saliva, and places his two palms on your boobs. He feels your perky nipples under his hands, just loving how plushy your breasts are, fitting perfectly in his palms.

He keeps thrusting in you as he gropes your tits and you bring your hands over his, looking into each other's eyes. He lowly groans, holding eye-contact with you.

You feel his veins under your palms, your pussy clenching around nothing but air while you run your hands all over his arms. You enjoy the sensations of his pulsing veins under your small fingers as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, staring into Jimin's dark eyes.

"Jimin..." You moan his name, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of his hard cock entering and exiting your tight hole. Jimin takes the opportunity to smooch your neck again as you expose it to him, his full lips delicately pressing down on your throat. "I love it," you sigh pleasantly.

He hums, the sound coming deep from his throat. He wants to hurt you, yes, but he likes it even more when you love the pain. He just knew you were exactly like him when he first saw you. He had the feeling that you needed someone like him, someone that'd push you to your limits and make you discover a new type of pleasure.

And he was right because there's not one time where you told him to stop.

"My dirty girl," he purrs in response, bringing his lips up to your jaw. He slowly rolls your nipples between his fingertips, pinching and pulling on them. "You're stupid, but so, so good for me, baby," he groans in your ear, gritting his teeth as he feels his balls tightening.

He slowly halts his hips movements, letting out heavy breaths as he eventually pulls out of you. You gasp when he does so, already missing his cock stretching out your ass.

You're both trying to catch your breaths, Jimin raising himself up from you and getting out of the bed. His erection stands tall against his stomach, bouncing up as he walks to the front of the bed.

You watch him getting away until he orders you to follow him. "Come here," he says softly and you don't make him wait. "On your knees," Jimin commands when you're facing him, sinking down to your knees after.

He places a hand behind your head and the other around the base of his dick, guiding the head of his cock toward your lips as he pushes down on your head.

"Here, baby," he instructs in a low voice. "Take it in your mouth." You part your lips to welcome Jimin's length, his bulbous tip shining in pre-cum and your juices under the light of the hotel room.

He immediately moans when he enters the warmth of your mouth, his heavy cock sliding on your wet tongue. He doesn't let you have much control, pushing his dick in your mouth until your nose touches his pubic hair.

You relax your jaw for Jimin, allowing him to stuff your mouth full of his cock. He looks down at you, watching the way your lips wrap around him tightly, your eyes starting to water. He still holds the back of your head with one hand, guiding you over his stiff erection and you moan obscenely around Jimin, drool dripping down on your chin.

He begins to fuck your mouth, forcing you to take the whole thing each time he bottoms out. He moves his hips back and forth, obsessed with the way his girth appears and reappears between your lips as he uses your mouth as he pleases.

"Shit," he hisses when you hollow your cheeks, making it more pleasurable for him. "You're a fucking cockslut, aren't you, baby?" He says breathily, his eyes not once leaving his cock penetrating your mouth over and over again.

You whine around him, surely agreeing with what he said. It sends deliciously vibrations through his entire body, the sounds of your moans and hearing you gag around him is so arousing to him. He wants to hear more so he literally uses your mouth like a toy, snapping his hips against you, his balls slapping your chin.

He lets out a deep moan, your cheeks now damp and eyelashes all wet because of your tears, eyes stinging as Jimin fucks your throat like a mad man.

"Stroke your clit," he manages to say between two heavy breaths. "You can get off by yourself, right? I know you're soaking wet just by letting me use that pretty mouth of yours," he mocks you, but he knows he's right. Whatever he does, your cunt is always dripping wet.

You whimper again, doing what he told you to and sneaking a hand between your thighs to play with your pussy. You part your legs wider as you circle your clit with your finger, Jimin's hooded eyes lazily watching you playing with yourself.

Your right hand is laying on his thigh while the other is operating between your legs, pleasuring yourself to the sounds of Jimin's moans and the feeling of his stiff cock weighing down on your tongue.

You do your best to breathe through your nose, swallowing around his length and flattening your tongue underneath him. Your juices drip down your inner thighs, your finger flickering over your sensitive bud smoothly because of your arousal.

The whole room is smelling like sex, an odour that Jimin can't ignore, loving it so much. Your lips glide so easily over his hard cock, completely covered in your spit and still some of your wetness, tasting yourself on him.

"Ah, fuck," he curses, his head rolling back on his shoulders, eyes still strained down on you. He feels the familiar burning sensation at the pit of his stomach, indicating he's really close to his orgasm. He stops thrusting in you. "Go on the bed, baby."

You're taken aback, but you follow his order, pulling him out of your mouth and laying your back down on the mattress close to the edge. You beautifully moan when Jimin penetrates your pussy a second time, bending your legs over your stomach.

"Oh, god," you cry softly, being pounded onto the bed by him right away, tits moving up and down on your chest.

His hands are positioned on each side of your shoulders, snapping his hips against yours so harshly you feel your skin stinging. You keep doing circle motions on your clit, now faster and impatient to reach your high.

You let out a high-pitched moan when Jimin suddenly steadies his hips over yours, dropping down to his elbows as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Holy fuck," he grunts, gripping the bed sheets tightly in fists beside your head as his cock twitches in your pussy.

"Yes, yes," you quietly exclaim, your clitoral orgasm passing through you, making you arch your back and buck your hips.

Your hole clenches repeatedly around him and he finally comes undone into you, shooting long, thick ropes of cum deep into you. He empties himself in your wet cunt, cumming just after you.

When he slips out of you, more spurts out of his tip, landing on your pussy, covering it in his creamy cum. You moan at the warm sensation, always loving how it feels both in and on you. Some of his seeds dribble out of you, dripping down to your ass.

He stays above you for some time, catching his breath and looking at the mess he made on you. He stares up at your face, seeing how fucked up you look, hair in a nest and eyes reddened.

Later, Jimin is in the shower, washing his hair and his body, passing a soft cloth soaked in soap over his chest. He lets the water fall over his head, wetting his black locks. He stays maybe a bit longer than normally, staring at the tiled wall.

He thinks about you, about all the things he's planned. He revised everything in his head, imagining you walk on the podium wearing his design, people looking at his piece with admiration in their eyes.

He thinks about all of that that will go down for you after the show, getting fired, losing your career and your fans. Many articles talking about your excessive use of alcohol and drugs, saying how tired and sad you look beside Jimin.

You won't last long, you're too weak anyway. A downfall like this is unconquerable, nobody recovers from that, and surely not a model who will be thrown out of the industry as soon as you turn twenty-five.

Jimin knows the industry, he's been in it for years now. He's aware of how cruel it is, how difficult and harsh it can be on fragile little girls like you.

But that's why he's here, to take care of you once nobody will want you anymore. That's the goal, after all; you to be finally his — solely and completely his.

"Jimin?"

Your voice reaches him, turning his head in your direction, seeing you hesitantly entering the shower with him. He opens his arms, inviting you to come closer and you do, hugging him and laying your head down on his wet chest.

"I love you, sweetheart," he softly murmurs against your hair. "I'll never leave you, you know that, right?"

You nod your head, looking up at him and meeting his gaze. "I love you, too."

๑♡՞

A F T E R

The runway went incredibly well. Celebrities and journalists were all gathered for the fall show, totally amazed by every design and the models that were wearing them.

But there was one specific piece that everyone was willing to say was the best.

Jimin was satisfied to see that his name stood out among everyone else's, being called more times than Dior itself. He predicted it; it was the creation that every guest remembered, the dress that the fans were only talking about.

He'd take all the credit, he was the one who imagined it and then sewed it after all, but he has to admit that you had contributed to the fame a lot.

Being the beloved face of Dior only made people talk more about it and that was what Jimin needed.

But everything has an end, doesn't it?

When Jimin comes back to his apartment, the place is silent except for the TV playing, as he thought it would be. You're looking through the window, watching the city living at night while it's raining. You're sitting on the sofa, not even acknowledging his presence as he enters, getting rid of his shoes.

You're not much of a talker since you've been fired from Dior a few days ago just after the fall show. He understands your wish of remaining silent, needing a bit of space to process everything that has happened the past weeks in your small head.

It was going to happen soon enough anyway. You've been to your photoshoots completely drunk, sometimes just going in with a hangover, but of course it didn't help your case at all.

Jimin was guilty for letting you drink alcohol so soon in the morning. No need to deny it, he was even the one for dropping you off at work like that. Well, he had to do it if he wanted people to notice how far you've fallen.

He doesn't feel bad, though. Your career wasn't going to last with Jimin's sabotage or not. He did you a favour, you should be thankful.

You can't handle being a model. If you could, none of that would have happened. You wouldn't have gained weight, you would have been suspicious of the amount of calories Jimin was feeding you. The bottle of wine wouldn't have been so tempting and smoking weed wouldn't have ever occurred to you as a good idea.

Some people can, others can't and you're one of them. You shouldn't be ashamed of it, sometimes things just don't work out like we would have wanted them to.

"Did you see the article they wrote about me?" You ask, already knowing he's walking up to you without looking. "You surely did, I bet that's all they're talking about..."

He sits down beside you and you eventually turn around, facing him. You care so much about what others think of you. It must be so tiring having such a low self-esteem. He can only imagine it; seeing you look through the window like a sad puppy, your life finally making sense when Jimin comes home.

"I did, but nothing of that matters to me," he answers, the most honest he's ever been. And even if he had to lie, it's not like you wouldn't have believed him. You always trust whatever he says.

You don't reply, your head still filled with many thoughts.

"Hey, come here," he softly tells you, patting his thigh. You straddle his lap, setting your hands on his shoulders. He cups your chin, forcing you to look at him as you keep avoiding his gaze. "Whatever they say, whatever their name is, nothing will ever be more important than you."

Because who is he if he lets some article affect the way he sees you? He's known you since the beginning of your career and he stayed til the end of it.

He knows you better than everyone else. He was with you during your highs and lows and he'll still be there for the next ones. There's nothing in the world that could make him leave you. After everything he's done to have you, there's no way he'll go away.

How cowardly of him if he does. He can't leave when he's promised he'd heal you — close all of your past wounds and create other ones.

He may be selfish, but there's one thing that he isn't and it's a fucking liar. He sticks to his words, and when he says he'll never leave you, that means he'll never, never abandon you — he'll never leave your side, not even once. He can't risk it.

๑♡՞

taglist: @mcsalterego @blueberryarchive @gyukookswhore @bloopkook @ot72025 @mrsminho @ownthesunshine @dahliadaenerys

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jimin imagines #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin fic

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yawnderu · 1 month

Text

Simon ''Ghost'' Riley — Masterlist 💀🖤

cr: @ave661

Simon Riley Moodboard | Smut Masterlist | Bimbo!Reader Masterlist | Dad!Ghost Masterlist

This Masterlist only has the material I've created in 2024. To explore older works, you can check my Main Masterlist, or use the tags #Simon Riley x Fem!Reader or #Ghost mw2 on my profile to access all my works!

Do not translate, post, or put my content into AI tools.

Ongoing Series Lorelei

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

K-9

Simon Riley and his pathetic efforts to get close to the new medic will earn him a scar or two

Simon Riley is in love with an uninterested, tired medic.

Angel

Synopsis: Afraid of giving you the same destiny all his loved ones met, an emotionally unavailable Simon does his best to pretend being in love with you for one night, later deciding to introduce you to the one person who can give you the love you want; John Price.

Smut

Silly love-making

Simon's obsession with pornstar!reader

Sex on camera

No man could act this good

Using his naked body for art purposes

Love-making

FWB!Simon cucking your hookup

Tattoo Artist!Simon

Prettiest girl in Edinburgh

Hybrid cat!Reader tag teamed by Simon and Johnny

Soul-crushing devotion and medical emergencies

AI!Reader gets a physical body

Neet!Reader jerks him off

Hybrid wolf!Simon x Catgirl!Reader

Sleep-walking, but fucking instead

Simon becomes vocal when give him blowjobs

Rimming him

Monster fucker

Dick headcanons

Catgirl in heat

Drabbles

Gym bros Johnny and Simon

Creature!Reader

Tag team 🌶️

Simon Riley is a stray, roughed up cat

Seduction goes against the rules

Nymphomaniac!Reader

Immortal!Reader

The phrase ''the wife'' is always in Simon's mouth

Choking🌶️

Cock warming🌶️

Lipstick marks on his cock

Neet!Reader sniffing his armpits

Milf!Reader drives Simon insane🌶️

Military high ranked!Reader

What turns him off

I have no faith, but I believe in you

You and your daughter love his tattooed arm

Simon is a furnace

Creature!Reader cuddles

Asking for sex after he had a bad day

Cumming too early🌶️

Wearing a white wife beater

Girl dad

Raccoon

Simon makes weird faces under the mask

Juiciest ass in the Task Force

Bulking

Dating a MILF

Naked cuddles

Relationship similar to Batman and Catwoman

Work Song

Cumming on your glasses🌶️

Touch starvation

Fluff & Hurt/Comfort

Expensive presents

Displays of trust

The most broken man turns to religion when you're hurt

A man without big pecs is like an angel without wings

Simon Riley was made for soul-crushing devotion

Broken man in love

Cuddles after a bad day

Simon is a giant black cat

Ai!Assistant Reader

Ai!Assistant Reader bothering Simon

Second chance at being an uncle to your niece

''I'll be the weapon when he needs protection''

Moody catgirl

Red panda hybrid!Reader

Hiccups during sex🌶️

First relationship

Angst

Emotionally unavailable

Immortal!Reader doesn't come back to life

Angel - Part I | Part II

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asonofpeter · 4 months

Text

It's My Party

Pairing: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Plus-Sized!Best Friend!Fem!Reader

Summary: It's Rafe's birthday, so he could do whatever he wants, right?

Word Count: 8.4k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NON-C0N/DUB-C0N, substance use, alcohol, oral (m and f receiving), nipple play, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

A/N: Woah! Where'd this come from? I honestly have no idea, I wrote this in like three days and I love it. My first full Rafe fic? YAY! I've been kinda down so I'm glad I was able to write this! Also pictures in moodboard are my personal perceptions of how Reader looks, doesn't translate into the story besides her being a plus-size queen! Enjoy! 💕💕💕

PLEASE HEED WARNINGS BEFORE READING! I DON'T CONSENT TO THIS WORK BEING REPOSTED, COPIED OR TRANSLATED!

“C’mon, Y/N, it’s my birthday,” Rafe chuckled, leaning back on his arms on your bed. “I wanna make sure the hottest girl at the party is wearing a pretty outfit,” he said, his striking blue eyes running over your frame.

Your mouth fell open at his comment. You stared back at yourself in the mirror, studying the outfit Rafe had gotten for you.

It was a dainty light pink sun dress with cherries on it paired with a matching ruffled tie-up cover. It was cute, feminine, soft.

Just like you.

“It’s not your birthday yet, Rafe,” you shook your head with a smile, glancing at your best friend before running your hands over the cotton.

“But it will be,” he replied. “So what do you think?” He referred back to the outfit. He had stood up by then, stalking over to you so that his front brushed with your back. The heat of him radiating onto your skin.

The heat between your legs grew, but you forced it away. Shaking your head clear of any possibilities, you glanced in the mirror to look your best friend in the eyes.

His intense stare was already on you.

“I love the outfit, but I don’t know about it making me the hottest girl at the party,” you snorted before walking away from the mirror to grab your clothes to change back into. You felt him roll his eyes at your statement but you ignored it as you turned back around to face him.

“You’re already the hottest girl, so that won’t be a problem,” he said, eyes darkening.

This time you rolled your eyes.

“Really?” You scoffed. “You’re aware that the blonde skinny chicks are going to be throwing themselves at you, right? You won’t even notice I’m there,” you blew out a breath.

While you were comfortable in your own skin, loving your stomach rolls, stretch marks, and flabby skin—you also knew that you weren’t society's beauty standard. So it always confused you when Rafe flirted with you.

He would call you hot one minute and the next you’re seeing a blonde skinny girl walk out of his room with her clothes disheveled.

Still, he was just your best friend and you’re sure he only meant it for a fun laugh. He was never serious.

As you were about to go into your bathroom, leaving the conversation, you felt a firm hand wrap around your arm.

“Why would I pay attention to those girls when I have you?” He questioned, face hard as he stared at you. “It’s my party and if I say you’re gonna be the hottest girl there, then you’re going to be the hottest girl there,” he squeezed you slightly.

You exhaled sharply, dropping your gaze as you felt your cheeks flush once more. Sometimes you wondered if Rafe was truly attracted to you or if it was all a big lie just to get in your pants. “Okay, didn’t know it was a big deal,” you ripped your arm away from his grip.

You also wondered if that curiosity was the reason you knew you’d never want to explore a relationship with him. Curiosity killed the cat and what you have with Rafe now is more than perfect for you to be wandering on a side of regret.

“Just wanted to make it known,” he shrugged, stepping back. “So do you like the outfit?” He asked.

Your face softened as you smiled. “Of course, I love it,” you emphasized, earning a smile from him. You closed the bathroom door behind you leaving him in your room.

Rafe had come over just like any other day. You expected you’d be driving to the club like always but today he had a bag from your favorite store in his hand. His smile brightened at the way your face lit up at the sight of it.

You assumed it was another piece of jewelry or a handbag he made a habit of buying you. But no, it was an outfit this time around. And it was actually your size. Part of you wondered how he guessed so accurately but then you realized you weren’t giving him enough credit.

He had bought you a cute outfit for a special occasion, and you were happy.

“Are we still going to the country club? I’ve been craving their strawberry-mango smoothie,” you stated as you walked out of the bathroom, knowing the fruity drink had been on your mind since you had it well over two weeks ago.

“We could do whatever you want,” he grinned.

There were few things in life Rafe enjoyed. And his birthday was one of them.

It was the one day out of the year that was about him. The one day out of the year when Sarah wasn’t the favorite. The one day out of the year that his dad didn’t look at him with disappointment or disapproval. It was the one day out of the year that he was celebrated just for existing.

Most importantly, you would go all out. Planning him the perfect day to make him feel extra special. He doesn’t think he’d have any other person do that for him.

The thought brought a smile to his face and it only grew when you opened the door, greeting him immediately.

“Happy birthday!” You wrapped your arms around him, shoving your face in the crook of his neck.

He wrapped his arms around you, enjoying the smell of your perfume.

“Mr. 21,” you smirked, pulling away. “You feel old?” You joked.

“Not yet,” he reached up to push a piece of hair out of your face. “You look beautiful as always,” he complimented, loving the way you grew flustered. He raked his gaze over your body, taking in each curve, craving to touch the softness of your body, but he noticed a big thing was missing. “Where’s the outfit?” He questioned.

“It’s in here,” you held up the bag in your hand. “That’s my party outfit, but we’re going golfing and I don’t want to sweat in it,” you explained.

“I was gonna say,” he smirked before nodding towards his truck, implying it was time to go.

“Have some faith in me, Rafe,” you gazed at him, your eyes sending him a look he couldn’t decipher but his mind told him what he wanted to believe.

He chuckled in response as he opened the door for you.

“I have all my faith in you”.

Rafe knew it was the right thing to put all his faith in you. No one ever cared for him more than you, loved him more than you, treated him with respect more than you. You were safe, warm, and reliable.

He glanced over as you watched the scenery pass by. You had your hands folded neatly in your lap, your skirt stretching over your thick thighs he craved to have wrapped around his waist or his head.

You were goddamn gorgeous and the thought of you created an unquenchable thirst. Hell, he’s been thirsty since he realized he was attracted to you back in high school. But you were so fucking oblivious to his flirtatious remarks that you’ve never been more than best friends.

Curling his fingers around the steering wheel, he pushed the thought to the back of his head. Focusing on the road.

You arrived at the club shortly later, your water bottle in hand as you made it to the golf carts. You had one job today—sit pretty and cheer Rafe on.

Turning in your seat to face the course, you waved at the two men waiting on Rafe. They waved back before greeting the man of honor. Soon they started their game, Rafe’s name leaving your lips every time he hit the ball.

You didn’t understand the sport, found it rather boring. But it was his birthday so you faked your way through it with the biggest smile on your face. It wasn’t until you were done reapplying your sunscreen that he called your name.

Lifting your head to find him at the bottom of the short hill, he waved you over. You met him and the boys there, a puzzled look on your face.

“It’s the last hole, why don’t you give it a shot?” He grinned, eyes shielded from his sunglasses but you could still feel his intense gaze.

Sticking your sunglasses in your hair, you squinted to where the flag was. “I don’t know how to play,” you stated matter-of-factly. “Besides, you guys are having fun, I’m just the cheerleader,” you puffed out a small laugh.

“It’s my birthday, c’mon,” Rafe tipped his head. “It’ll be fun,” he encouraged. “I’ll show you”.

You let out a soft breath, caving in. “Just this once,” you pointed. You stepped in front of Rafe’s welcoming stance, allowing him to envelope his arms around you.

He showed you where to place your hands and position your fingers, his hands on top of yours. Almost every inch of him was pressed against you—his hands rested on your forearms, his chest against your back, and his front pressing against your ass.

You gulped as the feeling made you hot before you attempted to ignore the proximity but you couldn’t. You just couldn’t. And when he swung the club, following through, you smelled the masculine scent of his cologne, your knees buckling.

“Atta girl,” he grinned, stepping away to watch as the ball landed close to the hole.

“Damn, Y/N,” Kelce chuckled.

“You should join us for the full game next time,” Topper smirked.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Thanks, guys, but I’m sitting out any future games,” you smiled.

“You just need a little more convincing,” Rafe slid his arm around your shoulders.

The four of you began heading back to the carts. Top and Kelce were in front while you and Rafe stayed behind.

“How’s your birthday so far?”

“It’s more than perfect”.

“Wow,” Rafe smirked, watching as you walked out of his bathroom, now changed into the outfit he had specifically picked out for you. He reached for your hand, raising it in the air so you could spin. “You’re incredible,” he breathed out, in a complete daze.

“Rafe,” you dragged, avoiding his gaze as the heat grew on your face. “Thanks for the outfit, it’s really nice,” you played with the sleeves of the cropped cardigan. “But it was really expensive, I-,” you began, but he raised a hand.

“You’ll find a way to repay me,” he finished your thought, his blue eyes darkening. “But right now, we’re gonna celebrate my birthday,” he pointed over his shoulder towards the door where the party was starting.

With your hand in his, you nodded, letting him pull you along.

You met up with Kelce and Top in the kitchen, everyone wishing Rafe a happy birthday as you passed. You thanked Kelce as he handed you a cup of water. The night was still young so you had enough time to catch up with the rest of the partygoers.

Leaning against the counter, you listened to the guys' conversation, droning in and out of it when parts became boring. It wasn’t until you spotted a few girls making their way toward the group, that a smile appeared on your face when you figured they came for Rafe.

While you held some feelings for Rafe, all you wanted was for him to settle down with a nice girl. One you could maybe be friends with too. It was a little fantasy you had.

“I love your dress, Y/N,” one of the girls complimented, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

The three Kook girls were standing in front of you and Rafe. You were a bit shocked that they acknowledged you first, but you welcomed their kindness.

“Thanks,” you rolled your lips together in a smile. “Your earrings are so cute,” you gestured to the gold hoops she had.

She hummed before her attention turned to Rafe. “Happy birthday, Rafe,” she brushed her hand along his arm, squeezing his bicep. “Me and a few of my friends are gonna head into the pool if you wanna join,” she batted her lashes.

“Maybe later,” he pressed his lips together in a smile. “I’m with my friend right now,” he slid his arm over your shoulders.

You furrowed your brows, glancing at him like he was insane for turning down her offer. “He’s kidding,” you butted in. “You guys have fun,” you pressed a hand on his back, urging him closer to the girl.

“Awesome!” She beamed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the patio.

Rafe glanced back at you with a look you couldn’t decipher but as he noticed the smile on your lips he only turned back around, shaking his head and chuckling.

You knew he’d thank you later just as Kelce and Topper did when the other two girls dragged them along to the pool as well. You grabbed your water from the counter before weaving through the house. Just as you were about to go outside for some fresh air, you bumped into someone.

“Shit, my bad,” they apologized, placing a hand on your arm. “You okay?”

You gazed up to see a very handsome guy—tall, with dark eyes, dark hair, and dimples that were so kissable.

“Yeah,” you shook your head, a little dazed by his beauty. “I’m fine,” you reassured. Many guys on the island were attractive enough to catch your eye, but this guy was something else.

“Can I get you a drink? Since I spilled yours,” he offered and that's when you noticed your cup was on the floor.

“Sure,” you beamed. “It was just water though,” you added with a shrug.

“A water for the lady then,” he grinned.

You followed him back into the kitchen where he got you a new cup. He had asked if you were heading outside so you nodded as he grabbed your hand, leading you past the pool where you saw Rafe hanging out with the girl from before.

A smile fell on your face, glad to see him have fun before you stopped at a bench under a tree in the yard.

“I’ve never seen you around the island,” you told the guy, smoothing out the skirt of your dress before sitting down.

“I’m visiting my cousin, he brought me along,” he answered. “What about you? You live here?” He gestured to the house.

“Oh, no” you snickered. “My best friend lives here, it’s his party,” you explained. You glanced back at those brown eyes, chewing on your lip as the butterflies in your stomach fluttered. There was a new feeling in your stomach tonight, far from basic attraction—there was more.

But you couldn’t pinpoint it. Still, the longer you talked to this guy, the more you felt it.

“I was struggling to stand up on that board, that wave was huge!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands.

You hid your laugh with your hand, doubling over as he told his story. “You’re kidding?! How did you make it?”

“Pure luck and ambition,” he shrugged, sipping his drink. “But I also learned maybe there’s a reason you shouldn’t surf during a thunderstorm,” he joked.

You agreed. “I’m glad you lived to tell the tale,” you reached over to touch his arm, gazing at him through your lashes.

His eyes flicked over your frame before he hummed out in agreement. “Me too”.

Silence engulfed you for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped and only you and him were in existence. Letting the feeling in your tummy guide you, you leaned in.

He followed, reaching over to place a hand on your waist and soon his lips were on yours. Your hand reached up to thread through his hair, deepening the kiss.

You kissed for what felt like hours but in reality, it was only minutes. It was a soft and innocent kiss, but it felt so intense, so hot. You were fully making out with a stranger at a party and all you could worry about was the heating sensation igniting in your heart.

Unsure of it, you still didn’t want it to stop, unfortunately, it did.

“Watch out!” You heard Rafe scream as a ball flew over your head and bounced off the tree trunk. You yelped, heart racing at the thought that it could’ve hit you square in the face. Immediately, you saw Rafe jog over towards you.

He was in his swim trunks, chest bare, and water dripping down his abs.

You licked your lips unconsciously, the familiar feeling burning between your legs but you pushed it aside when you focused your attention back on the guy, making sure he was okay and he placed a hand on your knee in response.

“You okay, Y/N?” Rafe caught up to you. “Didn’t see you until the ball slipped from my hands,” he chuckled, running a hand over his head.

“I’m fine, Rafe,” you reassured.

“Didn’t realize you weren’t alone,” he cleared his throat, sending a glance to the guy.

“This is,” you placed your hand on top of his that was resting on your knee. You paused, realizing you didn’t know his name.

“Eric,” he answered with a smile.

“Eric,” you repeated, unable to control your growing smile. You liked his name. Turning back to Rafe, you chose to ignore the frown on his face.

“Happy birthday, man,” Eric turned to Rafe. “Sick party,” he smiled and you grinned between him and Rafe.

“Yeah, thanks, Y/N threw it for me,” Rafe said, his eyes flicking to yours before they rested back on the hand that was on your knee.

“No way, you have a talent,” he squeezed your knee and you felt your cheeks heat up.

You shrugged bashfully and you narrowly missed the snort that left Rafe.

“I was about to head back inside,” Rafe pointed towards the house. “We were gonna get a few drinks,” he trailed.

“Okay, have fun,” you said. “I’m gonna chill out here with Eric,” you added, leaning into his side. You also chose to ignore the way his jaw clenched.

“Okay, sounds good,” he pressed his lips together in a smile before he made his way back.

Once he was out of your eyesight, you turned back to Eric, threading your fingers through his hair and resuming what you were doing before.

Rafe didn’t want to leave you tonight, especially on his birthday. But you had practically pushed him into the girl’s awaiting hands. He didn’t understand why you were so happy to do that, didn’t you see how more perfect you’d be in her place?

Was he not obvious?

As he stared back at you, the smile adorning your lips, he knew the answer. Which is why he turned back around, allowing the girl to lead him to the pool.

He tried to have a fun time, jumping in the pool with her. He could admit that she was attractive but nothing compared to you.

As he, the girl, Kelce, and her friend had a chicken fight, his mind continued to wander to where you might be.

Kelce and Top were in the pool with him, meaning you were alone. You could’ve sat in one of the lounge chairs, enjoying the game, but when he glanced over, you weren’t there. The thought of you alone in the house irked him, what if someone spikes your drink or makes you uncomfortable?

Your laugh answered his prayers but another question came to mind, who was making you laugh?

He was about to jump out of the pool when the girl stopped him, handing him a shot of something while she pressed her boobs against him. He chuckled, taking the shot from her. He was distracted for a moment but then he heard your laugh again.

This time he exited the pool, leaving the girl dumbfounded. It didn’t take long to find you but he wasn’t expecting you to be so far from the party, alone, with a guy.

He inhaled sharply.

There was no way, right? He’s been drinking all night, his mind was painting a picture he didn’t want to see. But then the sight of you leaning in to kiss the guy, his hand sliding over your waist and yours fingering through his hair made that anger grow.

To his side a few guys were kicking a ball around, without another thought, he grabbed it, throwing it in your direction. He knew it’d miss you but he still shouted out your name before he went running in your direction.

You pulled away from the guy, your eyes going wide as the ball hit the tree over your head.

He checked on you, hoping the incident would make you open your eyes and realize you shouldn’t be spending the night with a stranger on your best friend’s birthday. But that’s not what you had done at all.

Instead, you snuggled up to the guy “Eric”, letting him keep his hand on your knee, and telling Rafe to have fun.

He swallowed down the jealousy, forcing a smile before making his way back to the house. The thought of you outside with him made his blood boil. Even more so when he snorted up a line in the kitchen a few moments later.

The white powder was the second thing that could calm him besides you. Still, he preferred you.

“Eric,” Kelce said the name in thought. “I don’t know an Eric,” he shrugged.

“I mean look at her man, she seems to like him well enough,” Topper said, glancing at the way you were staring at the dude.

Wiping his nose, Rafe sent him a look.

There you were, busting out in laughter again at something. “I don’t trust him,” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyes locked on you as you giggled behind your hand.

When had you ever laughed like that towards him before? When had you ever been so focused on a guy other than him?

“That’s for her to decide,” Kelce laughed. “And by the looks of it, she seems to trust him well enough,” he snickered behind his cup.

Rafe grimaced, running his tongue over his teeth as Eric rubbed his hand along the exposed skin of your thigh. If he had known the short skirt he explicitly picked out for you would lead to that, he might’ve rethought the outfit entirely.

“Well I don’t, it’s my party, I can decide who’s attending and who’s not,” his gaze darkened and his friends sent him a look.

“Hey, man, Y/N’s having a great time. Are you sure you want to do that?” Topper asked, aware of what Rafe was implying.

“I know what I said,” he stated before he began walking towards you. He heard Topper mutter under his breath but he paid no attention to it.

“Oh, hi,” you turned to face your best friend who appeared in front of you. “Back so sudden?” You asked, gazing behind him where the house was still active.

“Yeah, I was thinking it was time to head back inside,” he said. “It’s getting kinda cold,” he added.

“I’m fine,” you dismissed. “Do you need me for something or-” You were cut off by him.

“Nah, I just think it’s time for us to head back inside, it’s late,” he stated, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I said I was fine here, Rafe,” you said his name but he didn’t like the way you said it.

He narrowed his gaze, running a hand over his mouth as he contemplated. “Get inside, Y/N,” he opted to say. The look on your face told him what you were thinking. “I mean it”.

“She said she’s fine,” Eric stood up, blocking Rafe from you.

Rafe placed his hands on his hips, dropping his head down as he let out a chuckle. “I don’t remember asking you,” he jutted a finger into Eric’s chest. “Actually, I don’t remember inviting you to my party,” he grinned.

You stood behind Eric, frowning as you stared at your best friend. Even under the moonlight, you could see how blown out his eyes were. The knowledge didn’t settle with you. So you stepped around Eric, grabbing hold of Rafe’s arm to prevent anything from escalating.

“C’mon, Rafe, I’ll go,” you sighed.

He relaxed, smiling down at the hand that was intertwined with his and the other on his forearm. He glanced back up at Eric, sending him a look of victory.

“You don’t have to listen to him,” Eric directed to you.

“I’m sorry,” you blew out a breath. “It’s best if you go, Eric,” you frowned, tears pricking in your eyes and Rafe couldn’t help but grow angry at that. You shouldn’t be crying over a boy you met a couple of hours ago. With your statement though, Eric left.

Rafe led you back into the house and he couldn’t help the feeling of pride swell as you clung to his arm.

You, on the other hand, tried to keep a smile on your face but you couldn’t feel the pang in your heart at what you missed out on. Why did Rafe need you back in the house? You wondered.

“C’mon, drink up, it’ll take your mind off of him,” Rafe handed you a cup with some type of liquor in it.

You sent him a look and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s my birthday,” he encouraged. “I want my best friend to be having fun too,” he grinned, pushing the cup into your hand.

You pressed your lips together. “Alright,” you sighed, giving in for the third time today. The bitter taste landed on your tongue and you cringed as it burned down your throat.

Rafe chuckled beside you, quickly pouring you another. “See, you’re having fun already”.

The longer the party went on, the more drinks you had. You weren’t drunk but you could feel the buzz. Reaching for a few of the snacks on the counter, you hoped you’d be able to sober up but Rafe had another idea.

“Let’s head up, yeah?”

You nodded, reaching for his hand as you began making your way up the stairs. You were still down about Eric, but you knew it was better than dealing with Rafe punching the life out of him. You didn’t enjoy his violent tendencies, especially when the white substance made it worse, but you tried to push past it, noting the good qualities he had.

He was loyal, smart, and confident.

Sometimes you wish that was enough for you.

You brushed past him as he opened his bedroom door for you. You found your bag on his bed, searching for his gift deciding now would be a good time to give it to him. Even though you were slightly pissed at him, he was still your best friend and it was his birthday.

He smiled at you when you sat on his bed and patted the spot next to you so he could sit.

“Happy birthday,” you grinned, passing him the small box, and your shoulders pressed together.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he raised a brow but he took it from you nonetheless.

“Shh, just open it,” you laughed, watching as he did.

His gaze softened at the gold Rolex. He hummed out in delight, thanking you in the process.

“There’s an inscription,” you pointed at the expensive watch.

He turned the watch over to find that there was. His thumb traced over the words you picked out.

Rafe, you’re worthy of everything. Love, Y/N.

His heart swelled at the sentence. He wasn’t often told he was worthy of anything so for you to say he was meant it all. “Thank you, Y/N,” he swallowed.

You could tell he appreciated the sentiment so you wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Anytime for you, Rafe,” you smiled, gazing into his eyes. “What does the birthday boy want to do now? I’m sure the girls are waiting for you to rejoin them in the pool,” you smirked, standing up and walking over to the window.

Part of you wished that Eric was still outside, but he was long gone. The other part of you already accepted the loss, knowing something worse could've come from it if Rafe had escalated things.

Which in the past, he’s done many times.

You turned back around to face your best friend.

“Nah,” he said after a pause. “I kinda wanna stay up here with you,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s much fun when the party is downstairs,” you pointed towards the window.

“Who says we can’t have a party of our own?” He smirked, holding a small bag in his hand.

“By all means, enjoy yourself, Rafe,” you chuckled.

“It won’t be fun if you’re not doing it”.

“Rafe,” you warned.

“C’mon, it’s my birthday,” he said.

“Just this once,” you rolled your eyes, deciding you could indulge for one night.

He smirked, standing up and guiding you to his desk. He lined one up for you, instructing you how to do it.

You cringed at the feeling, moving from the seat and walking back to the bed as you rubbed your nose.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” he found his spot next to you, laying back on his bed. He folded his arms behind his head and you couldn’t help but peek at his lower abdomen that became exposed from his shirt riding up. “This is probably the best birthday I’ve had,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, why’s that?” You decided to humor him.

He sat up, leaning in close so his chest pressed against your shoulder. “I got the hottest girl in my room, wearing the most beautiful dress,” he sucked in a breath, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

Your face grew hot and you gulped. “You could have a hotter girl in here if you didn’t chase Eric away,” you bit, unsure why you said it.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re still sad about that?”

“I’m just confused,” you breathed out. “I was having a good time with a cute guy, is that so wrong?” You asked.

“Yes,” he stated and your jaw went slack.

“You’re kidding,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“It’s your best friend’s birthday and instead of hanging out with him you’re kissing a dude you don’t even know?” He spoke with his hands, his movements becoming erratic and that had you worried.

“Rafe, I spent the whole day with you, you were hanging out with that girl earlier, what happened to her? She was cute!” You exclaimed.

He stood up, walked over to the window and he ran a hand over his face. He was pacing back and forth in front of you as you shifted on the bed.

“You think I care about her?” He stopped in front of you. “I didn’t want to go in the fucking pool with her but I did because of you!” He shouted.

You flinched.

“I don’t give a fuck about any other person besides you!” He yelled. “And it fucking sucks when that feeling isn’t reciprocated by my own fucking best friend,” he huffed, chest rising.

Your heart dropped and felt a sting in the back of your eyes. You didn’t realize you were crying until a sob broke through you.

Rafe stilled and he let out a sigh. “I-,” he inhaled, pressing his fist to his head. He dropped to his knees in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. “You don’t get it, okay? You’re the only one on my side, the only one who makes me feel like I’m not crazy,” he dropped his head to your thigh, his hands squeezing your sides like he was afraid you’d leave.

“I care so fucking much about you,” you cried. “Everything I do is with you in mind,” you closed your eyes, your hands settling on his head as you began to run your nails along his buzzed hair. “This entire party, the entire day, I chose not to go to college so we could be close, I-,” you sucked in a breath, trying to decide what the point was. “I gave up on what I could have with Eric so you didn’t get upset,” you wiped your eye.

“What you could have?” He lifted his head to stare up at you. “What do you mean by that?” He leaned back.

“Love, Rafe,” you answered.

“What about us?” He furrowed his brows.

“Romantic love,” you elaborated. “Why do you think I’m always trying to hook you up with a nice girl?” You tipped your head to the side.

You both stared at each other in disbelief before Rafe stood up, running his hand over his head.

“I already told you I don’t want another girl,” he shook his head. “I want you,” he faced you again.

You were left dumbfounded.

“Are you honestly that blind?” He narrowed his gaze.

This time, you stood up. “We’re friends, Rafe, nothing more!”

He quickly stepped towards you, gripping your face in his hand firmly so you were forced to look at him. “You really think that’s all we’re meant to be?” He scoffed, flicking his gaze over you.

Your eyes were wide and you tried to push him off of you but he instead wrapped his other arm around you to keep you in place.

“Look at us, sweetheart,” he said. “If you really think all we’ll ever be is just friends, then you’re adorable,” he chuckled. “I think it’s about time you realize it was always meant to be us,” he licked his lips, eyes boring into yours. “Tonight was supposed to be perfect, I had it all planned,” he began. “Tonight was the night we were supposed to make things official,” he breathed out.

“Rafe,” you clutched his wrist, trying to pry his hand off of your face. “We’re just friends,” you restated, fear spreading over your eyes.

“We’re just friends,” he mocked you and you frowned, tears pricking in your eyes. “Stop playing dumb, for once, will you?” He taunted. “Did you think we’d go our entire lives without ending up with each other? Why do you think I’ve never dated anyone seriously, or you?” He tipped his head to the side.

Your stomach dropped. Is that why all the boys who were interested in you never lasted or never got the chance to properly ask you out?

“We get each other, no one else will. We’re from good families and you’re the only girl my father will ever approve of,” he gulped. “So let me ask you again,” he inhaled. “Did you really think we’d never be more than just friends?”

Your heart dropped. “Is that the only reason you want us to be together? Because of money and status?” You asked, voice shaky. “Am I just some silly pawn to get your father’s approval?” You felt a tear slip down your cheek but Rafe was quick to wipe it away with his thumb.

“Stop asking stupid questions,” he pressed his forehead against yours.

You shakingly let out a breath, closing your eyes as more tears slipped. The proximity and his grip had you uneased. You were confused.

“It’s always been you, Y/N,” he rubbed his nose against yours.

Your breath hitched as you stilled, unsure how to respond. But it seemed like he already knew the answer to his own question. His silence is what caused the sobs to rack through your body.

“Hey,” he cooed, stepping back and letting go of you. “Don’t cry,” he used his thumbs to gently wipe under your eyes. “C’mere,” he wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to cry into his chest.

It felt strange to be consoled by the man who brought tears to your eyes, yet, here you were. Still, there was nothing more comforting than Rafe, you thought.

He led you to sit back on the bed, bringing a tissue to wipe your face once you calmed down. “Cheer up, okay?” His lips curved into a smile. “It’s still my birthday, we should be celebrating”.

You nodded. “You’re right,” you inhaled, hoping this conversation would be left in the past.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed his lips to your temple before he pinched your chin, guiding you to look up at him and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

Your eyes widened and you tried to pull away but the angle you were in made you fear he could break your neck at the grip he had on your chin. Still, as his lips continued to move against yours, you couldn’t help but melt at his touch.

This feeling was something you’ve been curious about for so long. The fire, desire, and passion that was enveloped in the kiss lit you up. It was intense. He loosened his grip on your chin, cradling the back of your neck as you moved your lips against his. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you moaned, but that was the wake-up call you needed.

You quickly shoved him away, getting off the bed and creating some distance between the two of you. “You can’t do that!” You pressed your fingers to your lips and you still felt him there.

He stood up, stalking closer to you. With each step, you took one back. “What am I gonna have to do to get you to understand that I can?” He reached for you and he was fast, pulling you against him once more.

He was strong, you’ll give him credit for that and it was scary how you didn’t realize it before.

“Rafe,” you exhaled, turning your head away, feeling the intense presence of his stare.

“Am I gonna have to fuck you?” He hummed.

Your eyes widened and you struggled to remove yourself from him again.

“I think I’m gonna have to fuck you to get it into your pretty head,” he chuckled, squeezing you tight so you’d stop moving.

“No,” you shook your head, hands pressing against his biceps. “Rafe, please,” you pleaded.

“Oh, I love it when you beg,” he smirked. “But fine,” he loosened his grip on you. “Give me one night,” he proposed. “One night to show you it’s always meant to be this way, us,” he elaborated.

You dropped your gaze, blanking out as you contemplated. But he took your silence for an answer, dipping his head down to kiss your neck. You gasped, pulling away from him but instead, he pushed you back against the bed.

Crawling further up the bed to get away from him, you didn’t miss the way he looked at you like you were some prey he was getting ready to devour. He chuckled as he forced himself between your thighs, his hands slipping underneath your skirt and hooking around your panties.

It felt like such an out-of-body experience, your legs moving as he slid them off them, your thighs pressed against his shoulders as he laid before your cunt.

“We’d be so good together, sweetheart,” he said, hands kneading the soft flesh of your wonderfully thick thighs. “And I can make you feel just as good,” he said before he dipped his head down and licked a long stripe against your folds.

Your back arched at the feeling. You scratched your nails along his buzzed hair, a moan erupting from you as his tongue flicked around your sensitive bud. The feeling of his chuckle against you made you shudder and you felt embarrassed that he was finding your reaction amusing.

“Just relax, don’t think too much about it,” he stared up at you before he licked another long stripe.

You whined, squeezing your thighs around his head in hopes of getting him to stop but it was fruitless. He continued to pleasure you with his mouth, his focus on your clit as he wrapped his lips around it, sucking until you were a moaning mess beneath him.

Your imagination only took you so far when you thought about this. What it would be like when it would happen if it would ever happen–which you already decided it wouldn’t. But you were wrong about it all. It felt amazing, it was happening on his birthday, and it would happen.

But was it right? Did you want this? Your body was telling you yes but your brain was saying no. Rafe wasn’t the man you wanted to end up with, the man you wanted to have children with. But it seems like he made those choices for you and he was proving so with his tongue.

Staring up at the ceiling, you allowed your hands to rest at your sides, your chest heaving with each breath as you felt the pressure between your legs build. As your mind begged for release, it pushed all your confusing thoughts aside, allowing you to fall over the edge.

You gasped, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came down from your high.

Rafe licked up your wetness before kissing around your sensitive skin, nipping at your thigh. He pushed the skirt of your dress up, exposing more of your flesh, granting him the desire to kiss every inch as he made his way up your body.

Trying to process what had happened, you felt him unbutton the one button that held your cardigan in place. It took all your strength to swat his hand away.

“Rafe,” you tried to push him away but he didn’t budge.

“What is it? What’s so wrong about this?” He asked, stopping his movements and holding himself up above you. “Are you going to tell me you never thought about us?” He dipped his head down, whispering against your ear. “Is it me?” He pulled his shirt over his head, a smile appearing on his face. “Because I see the way you look at me and I don’t think it’s me,” he smirked, grabbing your hand and placing it on his chest.

The way you rubbed your thighs together and trailed your hand down his abs told him what you were thinking. Of course, you found him attractive, he was a Cameron and the Kook Prince, and he was athletic, muscular, and tall.

What wasn’t there to like?

“It’s definitely not me,” he chuckled.

“I can’t,” you forced yourself to say.

“Why not?”

You didn’t answer so he kissed you.

“You know how you said you want to repay me for this pretty dress?” He said in between kisses.

Your breath hitched in response, knowing when you said that.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered.

You glanced up at him before he urged you to slide off the bed to kneel in front of him. You knew it’d just be one night, he did say that after all, so you figured you’d get this one night over.

He stood in front of you, ridding himself of his clothes. He was naked in front of you and you felt your face heat up at the sight of his aching cock.

“Open,” he directed.

You bit on your lip, hesitantly holding your hands against your chest before you did as you were told and he rested the tip on your tongue, you instinctively wrapped your lips around him, one of your hands reaching up to wrap around the base of his dick.

Glancing up at him, you decided to move, the feel of his length pushing past your lips was interesting. It was strange that he was your best friend but at the same time, you pressed your thighs together for some friction.

You tried to take things slow but he wasn’t patient, instead, he pressed a hand to the back of your head, forcing the rest of himself down your throat. You gagged, feeling his balls press against your chin and he chuckled above you.

“You’re so adorable,” he smirked as he pulled back slightly before he pushed himself in again.

You reacted the same way, this time tears formed in your eyes. Your saliva pooled out of your mouth and you tried to swallow which earned a moan from him. His hands gripped your head, holding you in place as he began to fuck your mouth, the sound of your gagging filling the room mixed with his groans shouldn’t be making you wet but it was.

Pressing your hands against his thighs, you tried to push away, hoping to breathe through your mouth but he kept you there.

“Just relax,” he encouraged, moaning when you swallowed again, pressing your tongue against him. “You’re doing so good,” he groaned.

Digging your nails into his skin, he hissed and with one more thrust, you felt as he came down your throat, your face scrunching as you attempted to swallow it. He finally pulled away, leaving you to gasp for air followed by a fit of coughs. Your hands were pressed against your chest as you heaved.

He grabbed your face with his hand, pressing his lips against yours. The force of his hand on your jaw urged you to stand, his other hand framing the other side of your face as he deepened the kiss. You placed your hands on his arms, feeling weak and he was your only support.

His tongue slipped past your lips and he groaned at your taste. You felt lightheaded but thankfully he sat back on the bed, pulling you into his lap. He moved away from your lips, allowing you to glance up at the ceiling, your hands on his broad shoulders as you caught your breath.

Your eyes closed when he sucked on the skin behind your ear, one of your hands running up the back of his neck, your fingers curling over the soft buzz of his hair.

He undid the button of your cardigan, slipping it off your body and throwing it on the floor somewhere. Then he reached to the side where the zipper sat and undid it as well. He slid the spaghetti straps down your shoulders, pushing the fabric down to release your breasts.

The cold air hit your nipples, causing them to harden. He moaned at the sight, his hands cupping each in one, squeezing them, and rolling your hardened buds between his fingers.

You arched your back, pressing your chest further into his touch. You felt him lean down, wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking gently. You felt hot to the touch, your nails running along his body wherever you wanted.

Shifting in his lap, you felt him poke at you, his tip brushing with your clit and you shivered.

He switched to the other, doing the same and earning another trail of moans from you. He let it go with a pop, kissing back up your neck and along your jaw. “See how good we are together? Most friends aren’t even compatible, but we are,” he breathed against you.

You stayed quiet but at this point, he wasn’t looking for an answer, this is how it was always supposed to go.

He guided the dress over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room before he moved you to lay on the bed, your head resting against the pillows. You allowed him to pry your legs open, your hands at your sides as you watched him settle between your thighs.

Realizing he didn’t have a condom on, you opened your mouth. “I’m not on birth control,” you stopped him.

“It’s okay,” he reassured. “We’ll worry about that tomorrow,” he grinned.

You hesitantly let go before you rested back on the bed, nodding slightly.

He lined himself up at your entrance, his hands on your thighs as he pushed your knees to your chest. Slowly, he pressed himself into you and you scratched down his forearms at the feeling.

“Shh, relax,” he encouraged.

You took a deep breath in, it’d been so long since you had sex, the familiar pressure building between your legs as he pushed further in. Soon, his hips were pressed against yours and you felt his balls resting against you. It was a new feeling, being connected to somebody completely bare–raw.

It was odd. But that didn’t stop you from clenching around him to urge him to move.

“See how perfect we fit?” He asked, reeling his hips back before he snapped forward, your nails digging into his skin as the pleasure flourished around you.

You whined, tracing your hand around his neck, pulling him down so his forehead was resting against yours.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he inhaled, continuing to fuck you. It was pure bliss, your thighs resting on his hips, spreading wider with each thrust, just like he always wanted. The noise of your wetness was heard in the room, the feel of your walls pulling him back in. It was so pleasurable, that he dropped his head down, running his nose along your neck. “Always been, always will,” he smiled.

“Rafe,” you moaned, locking your legs together around his waist, your hands running down his back, your hips beginning to match each of his thrusts.

He loved hearing his name fall from your lips. “Do you see now?” He rested his forearms on either side of your head, framing your beautiful face.

You gulped, hands resting on the curve of his back, your eyelids heavy as he fucked you deeply.

He chuckled, knowing you were too dazed to answer. “All the times I’ve called you pretty, hot, they all went over your head, didn’t they?” He tipped his head to the side, a hiss escaping him when you squeezed around him. “Even now as I’m fucking you and your creaming around my cock, it still hasn’t stuck, has it?” His eyes shone brightly under his bedroom light, so blue they had you entranced.

That’s all you focused on as you came again, throwing your head back, your toes curling and, your nails leaving scratch marks on his back.

Your orgasm fueled his, his body stilling against you as he came, releasing into your slick walls. You knew you’d have to worry about it tomorrow, part of you was scared for what was to come, but your body was so relaxed in the pleasure it experienced.

“This is how it was always meant to be,” he whispered, slowly pulling out of you and watching his release slip out of your cunt. “And I’m gonna fuck you until you understand,” he said and you were half-asleep that you didn’t even feel as he pushed it back in. “Thanks for the best birthday”.

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wholoveseggs · 4 months

Note

HIII 🫶🏼 was wondering if you can make something about how Elijah/reader have been together/married for centuries and shes never felt jealous over Elijah with somebody else before so she doesn’t know how it feels like and she sees hayley with Elijah and she’s experiencing jealously for the first time and it ends with Elijah reassuring her with fluff and smut 😭😭

Eyes for you.

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

Amidst the clinking of glasses and strained smiles, you find yourself feeling jealous of the way Hayley is interacting with your husband... Until he shows you exactly why you shouldn't be feeling that way.

~Thanks for the request anon(s) ♡♡ I hope you don't mind me combining the two ideas. I made this as a sort of sequel to Dinner can wait~

~I've gotten sooo many requests in the last few days - I love them all, but it will take me some time to catch up ♡♡ thanks for your patience~

4.1k words - Warnings: smut, drama, oral, semi-public sex, slight dom!elijah...

{Moodboard->}

It was supposed to be a nice family outing. A dinner where everyone would just get together and enjoy themselves. But as the evening went on, your stomach had been churning, the food on the plate in front of you forgotten.

You hadn't even been able to eat more than a few bites, your appetite gone. Elijah kept a hand on your thigh under the table, his thumb rubbing circles, a small smile on his face. His brown eyes were soft as they stared at you.

But it didn't help.

You could see the way Hayley looked at him. Her beautiful hazel eyes were bright as they stared at your husband. Her plump red lips were curved into a flirty smile, and you knew that Elijah was enjoying her company.

He was always fond of Hayley. Even if he would deny it. You had seen the way his gaze lingered on her during dinner, the way he had leaned a little bit closer to her as she talked, how his own smile widened.

He was handsome, and the women around you knew it, all trying to gain his attention. You usually found it amusing, even a bit of an ego boost for you, knowing that you had what everyone else wanted.

But now, you felt insecure. Hayley was more than just a passing woman who wanted your husband. She was a part of the family, the mother to his beloved niece.

And she was beautiful. Her brown hair had been pulled into a bun, the baby hairs around her hairline curled. Her dark eyeshadow made her eyes stand out.

You shifted in your seat, taking a sip of your wine, trying to focus on the conversations around you. Freya was telling a story about the newest witch she had met. Kol was laughing, his mouth full of food.

"So, Y/n, what are your plans for the weekend?" Rebekah asked.

You swallowed thickly, glancing at her. "Elijah and I are going on a little getaway."

Rebekah raised her brows, smiling softly. "That sounds lovely. Where are you guys going?"

"We're going to this new winery a few hours away. We will leave tomorrow morning." Elijah spoke, his hand moving to the back of your neck, gently squeezing. "I need a break from work, and my darling wife deserves a vacation."

"That sounds so romantic, you guys should bring back some wine for me." Hayley said, smiling sweetly at Elijah.

You clenched your jaw, forcing a smile on your face. "Of course, anything for you, Hayley."

Elijah frowned, turning his head to look at you. He gave you a look, and you sighed, closing your eyes. You took a deep breath, you hated feeling this way, it made you irrational and stupid. You had nothing to be jealous about.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to use the ladies' room." You said, standing up.

"I'll join you," Rebekah said, and you nodded and followed her.

The two of you walked to the restroom, your steps were hurried, and your hands shook.

"What's wrong?" Rebekah asked, frowning.

"Nothing, I'm fine." You said, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were a little glassy.You began to touch up your make-up, trying to distract yourself.

"You don't seem fine, tell me what's going on." Rebekah said, stepping closer to you.

"It's just-," you took a deep breath, trying to calm your beating heart. "Hayley and Elijah."

"What about them?"

"Hayley is clearly into him, it's driving me crazy. It's ridiculous, I shouldn't be feeling this way." You said, looking at her.

Rebekah raised her brows, smiling slightly. "Well, well, the almighty y/n, is feeling jealousy for the first time in a thousand years."

"Yeah, and I know I'm being irrational, that's why I excused myself. I just need a minute." You said, rolling your eyes.

"Hayley is harmless." Rebekah said, gazing into the mirror. She fixed her dress, making sure it was laying perfectly on her body.

"She's been flirting with him all night and Elijah has done nothing to stop it." You said, lowering your voice.

"He's just being polite," Rebekah said, studying her nails. "But if it makes you feel better, we can always put Hayley in her place. Remind her that Elijah is very much married," she looked at you, raising her brows.

You snorted, shaking your head. "I'm not going to be petty, no matter how much I want to."

"You are so much stronger than me," Rebekah chuckled, linking her arm with yours as you left the bathroom.

As you and Rebekah reached the table, you could see Hayley was giggling, her hands resting on Elijah's bicep. She leaned in close to him, her lips almost brushing against his ear. Elijah's eyes had darkened, his brow furrowed as he whispered something in her ear, his lip curved into a smirk.

Your heart clenched as you watched him. A pang of envy swept through you and you let out a shaky breath. Rebekah gave you a sympathetic smile, squeezing your arm.

Elijah noticed you standing there, and looked at you, his brown eyes worried. He excused himself from Hayley, moving to you, he wrapped an arm around your waist, leading you to your seat.

"Are you alright, my love? You seem flushed," Elijah murmured.

"I'm alright, too much wine," You replied, avoiding his gaze.

Elijah didn't believe you, but wasn't about to start an argument in front of everyone. So he settled for tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, before placing a kiss on your cheek.

You smiled at his action, your heart fluttering slightly. No matter how angry and jealous you might be at him, he always seemed to know what to do to make you feel a little bit better.

As dinner went on, you saw that Hayley kept staring at Elijah out of the corner of your eye and it made your stomach turn. The way her eyes gazed at him with such affection. Elijah didn't even seem to notice. Instead he chatted with his brothers and sisters, his hand never leaving yours. His thumb caressed your knuckles, rubbing soothing circles on them.

Klaus brought out his phone and started sharing pictures and videos of his daughter. Elijah was grinning ear to ear, commenting on every single thing he was shown. The sounds of laughter around you made your chest swell, you felt good to see your family enjoying themselves.

Hayley seized this opportunity, shuffling closer to Elijah, leaning into him as she showed him her own videos of Hope. She would poke his shoulder and give him that innocent little smile. You clenched your jaw as you saw her press her breasts against his arm, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

You didn't like feeling this insecure and irrational, but you couldn't help it. The envious feeling was growing as you watched them interact. Elijah's brown eyes were soft as he gazed at Hayley. Smiling as he said something that made her laugh, head tilting back.

You couldn't help but compare yourself to her, you weren't as thin or as beautiful. You were taller, your breasts were bigger and your eyes wider. You usually weren't self conscious about your own looks, but today, you felt inadequate. She seemed like a more fitting partner for your husband.

You wanted to leave the restaurant, but you didn't want to make a scene. It was obvious that Elijah hadn't really noticed what was happening and you didn't want to look like a jealous wife.

"Excuse me, I would like to make a toast," Hayley said, raising her voice slightly. Everyone's heads turned to look at her, and you followed suit.

She stood up, her gaze focused on Elijah. You suddenly had a bad feeling, and you wanted to look anywhere but her, to keep from showing how upset you were.

"I just want to say," Hayley started, her hands clasped together. "Elijah, I've always admired you. You've always been so kind and generous to me and my daughter,"

You looked up at Elijah, and you could see his surprise, his brows raised. Hayley continued, "Over the past couple of years, I've grown to love and respect you, and I just wanted you to know that." She took a breath, and then reached a hand to touch Elijah's cheek. Your own heart started pounding.

Elijah stared up at her with confusion in his brown eyes, and Hayley laughed nervously. You were aware of the way Freya, Kol, Klaus, and Rebekah were watching you, but you couldn't take your eyes off of Elijah, to see how he responded.

She pulled back her hand slowly, then grabbed a hold of the champagne in front of her, swirling it around as she took a breath and held it out to him.

"To Elijah." Hayley said, smirking down at him.

He clinked his glass against hers. His own brown eyes were glazed with surprise as he held her gaze. He smiled softly, murmuring "thanks" under his breath.

You clenched your jaw, your fingers gripped the table cloth as you fought the urge to say something snarky, or throw something. Elijah turned to you, his arm wrapping around your waist. "Are you okay?" He whispered.

"I'm fine." You forced a smile as you took a deep breath.

He kissed your cheek, lingering his lips on your skin, his hand patted your side. You wished you could simply pull his face to yours and make him forget about everyone but you.

Your emotions threatened to get the better of you and you just wanted to leave the restaurant already, and be alone with your husband.

The end of the night couldn't come soon enough, and you all got into your respective cars. You and Elijah left the restaurant, the car ride quiet as you stared out the window.

"You're awfully quiet, what's wrong, love?" Elijah asked, his brows furrowing.

"Nothing." You said.

"Y/n." He frowned, his hand squeezing your thigh. You sighed, shrugging your shoulders.

"I don't want to argue in the car, you should focus on the road." You said, keeping your eyes forward.

You could feel his gaze boring into you, his hand moved to yours, bringing it up to his lips. He kissed the back of your hand softly.

"When we get home, you are going to tell me why you're so upset." He murmured against your skin.

When the two of you finally returned home, you immediately went to the bedroom. Your shoulders were tense, your chest was tight and your stomach churning.

Elijah followed behind you, watching as you undressed, taking off your dress, throwing it into the laundry basket. Your jaw was clenched, and he stood behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"Elijah-" You started, but he cut you off with a kiss to your neck, his arms tightening their hold. His hands pressed against your stomach, and you felt his nose bumping your ear. His lips were soft as they explored the skin of your neck, nibbling it softly.

He turned you around and your hands came to his jaw. His lips were upturned, his brown eyes were warm. He cocked his head, gazing down at you.

"Tell me what's wrong." He whispered.

"It's stupid, I'm just feeling insecure." You said, looking into his dark eyes. Elijah frowned, bringing his thumb up to stroke your cheek.

"Why?" He asked, his brows furrowed.

You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back your emotions. He could always get a sense of whether or not you were telling the truth.

"I just-," you sucked in a breath, closing your eyes. "Hayley clearly likes you,"

"I think she actually used the word love." Elijah teased, his brows raised. You glared at him and he chuckled softly.

"Is that why you've been so tense all evening? You were jealous?" He asked, pulling you flush against him.

You let out a shaky breath, avoiding his gaze. "Well you didn't exactly try to dissuade her." You mumbled, your hands pressed against his chest.

"Do you know what I was thinking about all night? How much I wish we didn't have to sit through dinner at the restaurant, and how much I wish we were alone, right here in our bed." Elijah whispered, and you felt your heart flutter.

"I've only ever had eyes for you, my love," He murmured, resting his forehead against yours. "My darling, you were the only woman I saw. Hayley could have been naked on top of me, and I wouldn't have been interested."

You smiled slightly at that, your hands resting on his shoulders. Elijah gazed into your eyes, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Do you need me to show you? Remind you how much I love you?" He murmured, his face inches from yours.

"How would you show me?" You whispered. His brown eyes flickered with lust as he grinned, pulling back slightly. He brought his hands up to his tie, yanking it loose before pulling it off of his neck.

He smirked, wrapping the tie around his fist, slowly backing you up against the wall. Your breath was caught in your throat as you gazed up at him.

Elijah easily pinned you up against the wall, wrapping the tie around your wrists, and securing them above your head. You sucked in a sharp breath as he put his hand against your neck, his touch gentle.

"I don't like seeing you upset," Elijah whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "Not when I can make you feel better." He punctuated his sentence with a kiss to your jaw, then your neck.

"You're all I've ever wanted. You're the only woman I've ever loved and the only woman I've been attracted to. You're the love of my life," Elijah spoke, his tone soft and sincere. His breath fanned against your lips, and you parted them as he pressed his against yours.

He kissed you gently, his tongue swiping over yours slowly. You gasped, your wrists straining against the tie. His hands tightened around your wrists as he pushed you against the wall.

He broke the kiss, his eyes looking down at you. "Do you remember our first time together?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. You smiled slightly, a fond memory resurfacing.

"On a blanket under the stars. The only light was the moon, and you were so beautiful." Elijah smiled, his hand tilting your chin so you would look up at him. "How old were we? Seventeen?"

"It was a beautiful night, after hours of you telling me about the constellations. I had to shut you up somehow." You giggled before he pressed his lips against yours.

"It's a beautiful night tonight as well, we should go out, like we did back then. Make love under the stars." He spoke, brown eyes filled with affection.

Before you could answer he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and your tied wrists around his neck. He walked past the bed and grabbed a blanket on the way, then carried you outside.

The cool night air seeped into your skin, but you didn't mind, Elijah kept you warm, his lips brushing against the nape of your neck. He set you down and laid out the blanket on the grass.

The backyard was illuminated by moonlight, and you could see the stars glistening in the sky. Elijah pulled you down with him, laying with you, his lips reconnecting with yours. Your body melted as he deepened the kiss, and you let out a small moan.

Elijah chuckled softly, hands roaming your body, fumbling with the lacy straps of your bra. "My darling, I don't think we'll need this tonight." His hands moved to the front clasp, expertly undoing it.

You loved it when Elijah undressed you. His large hands touched every inch of your skin. His lips always followed a path that was outlined by his fingertips. You watched him take off your panties, enjoying how his eyes darkened with lust and his smile curled.

Your hands ached to feel him, but they were still bound. Elijah kept you pressed against the soft blanket, spreading your legs for him.

He trailed a line of kisses down your stomach, not letting his lips miss any patch of skin. Your thighs trembled with excitement as you felt his breath ghost over your pussy. He grabbed your thighs, spreading them wider as he licked a stripe up.

You moaned out, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt his tongue, circling your clit before slipping inside you. Your breath hitched in your throat, and your hands trembled in their restraints as you ran them clumsily through his hair.

Elijah could stay in between your thighs all day. He remembered that first night together so vividly, remembering the way you had moaned and gripped his hair. Everything about you was intoxicating, and he never wanted the moment to end.

Your hips jerked up as you felt a coil grow in your core, your orgasm building. Elijah was coaxing it out of you, his lips sucking on your clit. A guttural moan escaped you, your back arching off of the ground.

His strong hands pressed against your hips to keep them still as his tongue moved quicker, coaxing every bit of pleasure from you. You could feel tears forming in your eyes, and you moaned Elijah's name desperately.

Elijah pulled away from you, a wicked smile on his face as he leaned up to kiss you deeply. He was still fully clothed, his hair messy and face glistening with the evidence of your pleasure.

"I love you so much, darling." He whispered against your lips. His fingers ran over your breasts, descending further down your body. He dipped a finger inside you, and you let out a soft gasp.

"Tell me about our first night together, Love." He said, slowly pushing in another finger, smiling as you moaned.

You trembled under his hands, and Elijah's eyes darkened as he watched you, loving the way you gave in to his touch.

"We had both snuck out, you told me to meet you in the clearing..." you said, cheeks red. Elijah pumped his fingers in and out of you, his forehead pressed against yours.

"You had stolen some mead from the cellars, and you brought candles and blankets. Always such a romantic." You moaned. Elijah had added a third finger, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

"Go on." He murmured, speeding up his movements. You cried out, squirming under him. He pressed down on your stomach with his other hand.

"You had led me over to the blankets. We'd barely drank the mead. And you told me that-"

"I told you that I had loved you for a very long time. I could hardly believe how lucky I was, finally being able to hold you in my arms." Elijah finished, his mouth twitching into a smile.

He kept fingering you, holding your gaze as you gasped. "You were so timid when I took your dress off, and I kept kissing you, murmuring about how beautiful you were." He said, feeling your walls clenching around his fingers.

You sucked in a breath and threw your head back, moaning as you climaxed. Elijah chuckled as he pulled out his wet fingers. He kissed your lips softly, brushing the stray hairs off of your face. He undid his tie from around your wrists, freeing your hands, and pulling you to his chest.

"I remember the way you looked at me when I made love to you." Elijah smirked, eyes falling to your naked figure, one of his hands tangled in your hair. He pecked your lips again. "I remember how tight and warm you felt, and how amazing it felt being inside you for the first time."

Your hands began to unbutton his shirt. You panted against his lips, sitting up. Elijah sat up with you, shrugging his shirt off and tossing it aside. His hands rubbed your arms gently, encouraging you.

You smiled, kissing his chest. His heartbeat quickened, his breath hitching as you moved over him. Your hands played with his belt, while your lips explored his skin. Elijah stared up at you through dark eyelashes, his hand brushed through your hair and then guided your head up. He pressed his lips against yours, smiling as you moaned into the kiss.

Soon you were both naked, the rest of his clothing discarded somewhere in the backyard. Elijah hovered over you, gazing down at you with affection glinting in his eyes.

"I love you, I wish you could see yourself the way I do." He murmured, cupping your cheek. You reached a hand up, intertwining your fingers with his.

He kissed your lips, lining himself up, before slowly easing in, swallowing your gasps. His hips moved slowly, his length filling you in the best way. You curled a hand around his bicep, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"You're so beautiful, my darling." Elijah cooed, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

You arched your back, biting your lip. Your nails dug into his arms as he picked up the pace, his groans were muffled. He pulled back and kissed you again, his tongue battling yours as you moaned against his mouth.

You didn't need anyone else when you had Elijah. The way he touched you and praised you made you feel euphoric. No one could compare to your husband. He was all you needed, even after one thousand years of marriage.

"Elijah." You gasped his name, hands gripping his arms. He pounded into you faster, and your head spun as you neared your climax. Elijah's hands found yours as you tensed, coming undone. He gasped, grunting your name as he buried himself deep inside, filling you with his cum, collapsing onto you.

You were both covered in sweat, gasping for breath. You sighed softly as he pulled out, laying down beside you and bringing your body against his. You pressed a hand over his racing heart, feeling comforted at the sound.

Elijah's fingers slipped through your hair, he gazed down at you, his eyes glinting.

"I really mean it, you know. You're the only woman I ever want to be with." He spoke, his smile made you melt.

"I know." You whispered, kissing his chest softly.

He pulled the blanket over you, his gaze loving as he ran his hands over your body. Elijah was always so intimate after the two of you had sex, murmuring endearing words, and worshiping every bit of skin he could get his hands on. His thumb brushed against your cheek, and you snuggled closer to him, enjoying his affection.

"I'm sorry I got jealous earlier." You said softly, playing with the blanket.

Elijah let out a soft laugh, kissing the top of your head. "You had no reason to be jealous, I'll never be interested in Hayley," He moved one hand down your body, squeezing your ass. "Because I have you."

Your laugh made his heart stutter. Elijah let his hands brush over you, taking care to touch you in all the right places.

"What else do you remember about our first time together?'' He asked, nipping at your ear.

You blushed as memories flooded back, suddenly feeling shy, though the sensation didn't come very often anymore.

"How clumsy you were and how sweet," you spoke, remembering how desperate Elijah had been to please you.

"You kept apologizing whenever you thought you did something wrong." You said. Elijah's face was pressed against your neck. You turned towards him and lifted his head up, smiling at the bashful look on his face. "Not that I knew any better," you teased.

Elijah chuckled and pressed his lips against yours. One of your hands moved down his sculpted chest and stomach. Your hands always gravitated towards him, no matter how many times you had explored his body over the centuries.

"So, about our trip tomorrow." He murmured against your mouth. You let out a soft sigh, hands wrapped around his neck.

"Yes, my love?" You asked, lips ghosting over his.

"Don't bother bringing many clothes," Elijah teased, smirking against your mouth. You giggled softly, kissing his smile.

"Any reason why?" You whispered, one of your hands moving through his hair.

"Because we're not going to leave the bed."

{Moodboard->}

700 notes · View notes

zeroeightzeroone · 4 months

Text

lover of mine - bang chan

genre: angst, hurt eventual comfort

pairings: idol!bang chan x female reader

warnings: none

notes: if this looks familiar, it was originally posted to my secondary blog @zerothreetwentyfive so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.

wc ~3k|moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"i'll never give you away, 'cause i've already made that mistake,

if my name never fell off your lips again, i know it'd be such a shame.

when i take a look at my life, and all of my crimes, you're the only thing that I think I got right."

lover of mine - 5 seconds of summer

you always thought that the next time chan would be making you cry would be at your wedding ceremony.

initially, you would try to hold in your tears, just enough so that you weren't full-on sobbing and ruining your makeup. eventually failing as the tears flow freely listening to the man tell you the moment he fell in love with you, the moment he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you and the promises he vows to keep forever. chan's eyes would never leave yours as you exchanged vows; in that moment, only you and chan existed, the proclamation and celebration of your love were the only things that mattered.

instead, here you are crying over chan. sitting in the driver's seat of your car, sobbing over the man who once said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, now not wanting to fight for that future anymore.

…

"you're doing it again."

the sound of your best friend's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, attention now on the girl sitting across from you, "huh?"

she reaches over and places her hand on yours with a sympathetic smile on her face. no words are needed from her to make you realize what you were doing whilst zoning out; fiddling around with your ring finger. a habit you picked up after chan proposed, and a habit that hadn't changed even without the band on your finger; your fingers instinctively moving to spin and twist a non-existent ring.

"right," you clear your throat awkwardly.

your hands slipping out from under hers, sliding them under your thighs hoping that maybe sitting on your hands would work against the habit.

"how are you?"

the word 'lost' feels like an understatement. the word couldn't encapsulate even a quarter of your feelings.

you felt directionless, overwhelmed by the constant switch between emotions: anger, frustration, sadness, and denial, it left you exhausted. day by day, you only grew more emotionally drained, the desire to feel nothing only intensifying.

the mere thought of the dimpled man gave you whiplash, your heart and your head conflicting with each other and your feelings pulling you from one end to the other. you couldn't pinpoint exactly how you felt about him.

god, you wished that you didn't even think about him.

you wished that you weren't plagued by the thought of him at every waking moment. everything reminded you of him, everything brought you back to the memory of how easy it was for him to let you, the person he proclaimed to want to spend the rest of his life with, to watch them walk out the door, to just give up without a fight.

why couldn't it have been easy for you too? why couldn't you just let him go the way he did you? forget him like he meant absolutely nothing?

as much as you wished it was, you knew it wouldn't be easy to move on from chan.

your early adulthood started with chan, moving in with him almost a year and a half after you started dating. he became a part of your routine and you became part of his; there was a time when your day didn't feel complete without hearing a goodnight from him or getting that goodnight kiss. your lives were intertwined, and your future plans were intertwined.

you believed chan was your future. he made you believe that you would write the next chapters of your lives together, that you two would be side by side on the road to forever. you envisioned your future with chan, without him you've hit a crossroads, struggling to navigate where to go from here. you were scared.

scared to learn what the future holds for you, scared to take a step towards a future without him.

on top of all that came public attention.

the news about your breakup hadn't been confirmed by chan or jyp entertainment. regardless that didn't stop the speculations and rumours that came with the lack of seeing you and chan in public together, seeing you without your ring, and other proofs fans would dig up. the algorithm also working against you as whenever you refreshed social media, the first couple of posts would be news articles, headlines and what have you, discussing the speculations.

'did stray kids' bang chan and his long term girlfriend call it quits?'

'fans of stray kids speculate bang chan and his partner have called off the engagement'

'netizens react to alleged proofs that bang chan and long term girlfriend have split up'

'breaking: did stray kids' bang chan and girlfriend split up? here's why fans are wondering about the status of the long-term couple'

your comments were flooded with questions regarding the rumours, mourning fans hoping that they were baseless and haters congratulating you on setting the man free. you wondered why the news hadn't been spoken about by chan or any official representatives but the speculations drove you to log out of social media. the realization that one day the articles and headlines will change from 'speculations' to 'confirmations' the anticipation and anxiety driving you insane.

you look back up to your friend, your lips pursed together in a small smile as you reply:

"i'm fine."

…

"chan hyung!"

the boy pulls the pillow up and over his head, trying to block out the noises from outside the door. hoping that the longer he ignored, the realization that he wanted to be alone would sink in and everyone would leave him be. that hope was short-lived as the door swung open.

"chan hyung!" changbin calls from his spot at the door, "you need to eat something."

from where he's standing, changbin watches chan groan out a response from under the pillow, making no effort to get up and go eat something. changbin's eyes drift to the older boy's bedside table, a picture frame is lying face down (probably a photo of you), and sitting on top of the frame is a gold band with a large diamond: your engagement ring. the sight of the band sitting on chan's bedside table and not on your finger has a small frown adorning changbin's lips.

"hyung, i know it's hard but please. you need to take care of yourself too," the younger boy sighs, "locking yourself in your room won't do anyone good."

of course, it wasn't easy for them to see chan in such a state.

chan had always been the one putting up a strong front, walking around with his head up no matter the circumstances as the leader. but these past couple of weeks, whenever chan was out of the public eye he'd walk with his head down, dragging his feet, no words leaving him. almost like he's being forced to be anywhere outside of his bedroom.

the members in the other dorm were curious about their leader, wondering how he'd been holding up but chan stopped replying to the group chat. it got to the point where the members made a chat without chan, using that to ask jisung, changbin and hyunjin how the older one was doing.

for as long as you were in chan's life, you were also in the member's lives. the news of the breakup came as a shock to them as well. they were all curious as to how you were doing too, but were hesitant to ask you directly for fear of making things harder for you. you met all of them through chan, and seeing their names pop up on your phone may just be another reminder of your ex.

changbin's eyes are on chan as the older boy takes the pillow off his head, slowly sitting up on the bed, feet hitting the floor but making no move to stand up. instead he's slouched over, head in his hands and sighing.

"do you, uh…" chan's voice barely above a whisper, "do you think i made a mistake?"

changbin shuts the door behind him hearing chan's question, realizing right now his friend needed someone to talk to before, maybe, going to eat something.

leaning against the door, he replies, "what do you mean?"

"w– was proposing… a mistake?"

"do you feel like it was a mistake?"

chan shakes his head, "no."

"did you mean everything you said when you proposed?"

"yes."

"then it wasn't a mistake."

chan lifts his head out of his hands, head turning to the younger boy leaning at the door. even in the dim purple lighting of chan's room, changbin can see how glossy his eyes are, how the bags under his eyes have gotten more prominent since yesterday.

"was… was letting her go," chan's voice shaky, "a mistake?"

changbin pushes himself off the door, making his way to sit next to his hyung on the bed. a comforting hand moving to chan's back.

"that's a question only you can answer," changbin's lips are pursed to one side, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he continues, "did it feel like a mistake at the time?"

"i- i thought i was doing the right… thing," chan's voice pitches higher at the end, questioning his own answer, "when i came home, an–and saw the dinner table, full of food she made for us. when she told me everything she was feeling, the look i-in her eyes."

chan loves your eyes, it's by far his favourite thing about you.

looking into your eyes had him falling in love with you before he even knew it. looking into them made it feel as if he was looking into your soul, almost like your eyes could tell him what your words couldn't. chan's day would immediately be flipped upside down just at the sight of your eyes, a shitty day becoming the best day when he caught a glimpse of those radiant, warm pools of life, your eyes sparkling with a zest and excitement for life that sent a wave of comfort over him. whenever he looked at you, that glimmer of hope in your eyes made him feel like everything would be okay.

but that night, the look in your eyes that night is seared into chan's memory. haunting him whenever he closes his eyes, whenever his eyes fall on your ring sitting on his bedside table.

that night when you told him just how lonely you'd been feeling, how you felt like he was treating you like the help and not as his fiancé; those words knocked some sense into chan. the harsh reality glaring him down: he had been falling short in your relationship. he had been so blind to that fact for who knows how long, listening to you had chan wallowing in guilt.

at one point chan felt like he was a third person watching everything go down, but it felt like he was watching you and a whole different person. he wondered why he wasn't saying anything, why he couldn't move, why he couldn't feel anything other than guilt eating him alive.

when he looked into your eyes, that's when everything came crashing down.

the eyes that once gleamed up at him, washing a wave of comfort and reassurance through his body were boring into his own. the contrast had his blood running cold. the sight of your hollow and dull orbs gazing up at him, even the sources of light around you did nothing to bring back that sparkle. the way your eyes looked incredibly sunken in, tired, swimming with distress as they searched his. he wondered how he hadn't seen the change before.

a change that happened because of him. the light in your eyes is gone all thanks to him. he wanted to be the one to preserve and make sure your eyes light up for the rest of your life, but instead he's the reason you look defeated. he couldn't handle the guilt eating him up at the sight.

"i-i broke her," chan whispers, "you could see it in her eyes how my shortcomings, the ones i was too blind and stupid to notice… that broke her. i broke her."

changbin doesn't say anything.

"i thought it would be better for me to let her go… get her away from me who was sucking the life out of her," chan's hands run through his hair, "she deserves so much more than me."

the older boy cries. his thoughts, feelings, everything just clouded with you.

"hyung," changbin's tone is soft, feeling out the atmosphere, "don't you think that it's sucking the life out of her even more, to be away from you?"

this time chan is the one who doesn't say anything.

"she wanted you to stay, she wanted you to convince her to stay."

"convince me to stay… please."

"i'm sorry."

"yes. from what you told us the day after you broke up, she does deserve better."

changbin's words send a dagger to chan's heart.

"but don't you want to be the one she deserves?"

chan's head turns to look at changbin.

"you need to work to be better, to be the one y/n deserves. that's what she wants, she wants you hyung."

"… m-me?"

"she wouldn't have said yes to marrying you if she didn't want you for the rest of her life."

…

your plan for the day was to wake up around noon, order some takeout or ransack your best friend's freezer for some food (and ice cream), chill on the couch and watch some netflix. instead you're jolted awake, at ten in the morning, by pounding at the front door.

rolling your eyes in annoyance, stretching your arm out, feeling around before grasping a pillow and clutching it over your head, trying your hardest to block out the noises and fall asleep. hoping the longer you hold out, it will give off the illusion that no one's home and come back later. a couple moments pass, a sigh of relief falls from your lips when the knocking stops, allowing you to loosen your grip on the pillow around your head.

maybe the neighbours got annoyed and kicked whoever that was out.

at the silence, you roll onto your side and shift your body around to get comfortable in the mattress. another long breath leaving your lips once that optimal position to fall asleep in is found, closing your eyes and getting ready to be lulled back into dreamland.

now you think someone is fucking with you.

the knocking starts up again, for a second you thought you'd fallen asleep and the knocking was continuing in your dreams but no. sadly, you weren't lulled back into dreamland like you hoped, the pounding in your head making it apparent that this was indeed, reality.

on top of all the things happening in your life lately, being woken up by a stranger relentlessly hammering the life out of their fist on your– actually, your best friend's– door is the kicker to a great day. a whine leaving your lips as you roll out of bed, pouting as you trudge to the door of the guest bedroom and continue your trek down the hall, towards the front door.

sure, you wouldn't have minded if your best friend, the person who lives in this unit, was actually home to answer the door. alas, she's at work whilst you're here; straightening out your pyjamas and plastering the fakest smile on your lips whilst you undo the locks, twisting the doorknob and swinging the door open.

"hello, mis—"

your jaw drops. posture immediately straightening due to the wave of tension that rushes through your veins, your mind comes up with two options: hide behind the door or run. your heart begins to race in your chest, tears threatening to spill at any moment but your feet are cemented to the ground. any urge you had to run away and hide quickly depleting at the sight of the man in front of you, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"chan… wh-what are you doing here?"

there he is: the man of the hour.

in front of you, in the flesh. standing a couple inches away from you clad in his usual all-black attire. you're avoiding his gaze but can't seem to pry your eyes off the bouquet in the man's hold.

a medley of red and white roses, baby's breath peeking throughout the arrangement.

"i- i needed to see you," chan's voice comes out husky.

shifting awkwardly on your feet, you sigh, "how did you know i was here?"

"multiple calls to your best friend and a long speech," he uses his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck, a nervous smile on his lips.

'she's getting a long speech from me too.'

"okay, well…" you clear your throat, "you saw me so bye."

you go to shut the door but chan stumbles forward, holding it open as he stands in the doorframe. the gush of air from his sudden movements gives you a whiff of his cologne. that along with the closer proximity has a lump forming in your throat.

"w-wait, i wanted to talk too."

"y-you spoke and so did i so, bye," you choke out, trying to close the door again but to no avail as his body blocks your way, "please chan, what more do you want from me? don't make this harder for me."

chan reaches forward at the sight of a tear falling, wanting to wipe it away but you flinch away from his touch. your reaction has chan recoiling, he shifts awkwardly on his feet. you go to turn away from him.

"i made a mistake," he states, his words coming out rushed.

you gulp, angling your body towards the man again. this time your arms crossed over your chest, your gaze still falling away from his face. chan's throat clears when he realizes that you're not going to speak.

"that night, i shouldn't have let you go," he continues, "i should've told you, said something, said anything to convince you to stay… but… fuck. i- i was scared."

your eyes glance up at his face, only to look away just as quickly.

"you're probably thinking, of what?" chan runs a hand through his hair, "but listening to everything you said, everything that i was stupid, ignorant enough not to notice, all those things that i did– or, uh didn't do… that hurt you. it scared me to tell you i wanted you to stay."

your eyebrows furrow in frustration, this time your gaze stays on his face, making no move to wipe the tears running down your cheeks.

"listening to you, hearing how much i hurt you. i- i thought it would've been selfish of me to tell you to stay," chan's voice cracks, tears falling from his eyes as well, "i thought i would hurt you more if you stayed… that you didn't deserve that, y-you deserved so much more than me."

"god, chan.…" a bitter smile on your lips, "you saying nothing, letting me leave… a-and not fighting for me, for us! fuck… that hurt more than anything."

the memories of that night have your heart aching. whimpering as the tears continue to fall, the sight has chan's gradually getting heavier in his chest. he wants nothing but to pull you into his arms and to never let go.

"i know… i know. baby, i'm so sorry," chan's cheeks are soaked with tears but he makes no effort to wipe them away, "i'm so fucking sorry. i thought i was doing what was best for you, but i fucked up, i fucked up big time."

your eyes lock with chan's. glossy, tear-filled orbs gazing into each other, at that moment the tears only build until the both of you are crying a river in the hallway.

chan quite literally launches himself at you. throwing his arms around your body and pulling you into his chest. instinctively, your arms wrap around his torso, nuzzling your head into his shirt. bodies trembling and shaking as the both of you cry in each other's arms.

chan soaks up every single thing about this moment; the warmth of your body radiating onto him, your face nuzzled into his chest, the smell of your hair, the way your hands grip the back of his shirt, the feeling of your body pressed up against his. he isn't even sure that you'll take him back. regardless, he knows he wants to work his hardest to ensure he'll have you in his arms every day for the rest of his life.

in his arms, he holds the person who has been with him every step of the way and supported him day in and day out. the biggest mistakes chan ever made took place on that day: not convincing you to stay, not telling you how he loves you with his entire heart, and holding your engagement ring in his hand while he watched you walk out.

chan wants you to be so much more than just his past and present, he wants you to be his future, his forever. he's always wanted that but he failed at showing you, instead hurting you in ways he was completely ignorant of.

"i love you," chan cries, you can hear his heart racing in his chest, "i love you so much. if you let me, i'll work every single moment of every day to show you that. when i told you i wanted you for the rest of my life, i meant it. i mean it with my whole heart. i fucked up–majorly, but i swear to you! i swear i'll show you that i'm the one you deserve, that i can give you that life you deserve."

chan looks down at you, enveloped in his arms as your gaze naturally lifts to meet his eyes.

chan's heart skips a beat.

there it is.

that sparkle.

main masterlist

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thebeautifulfantastic · 2 years

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how can you soar when you’re nailed to the floor?

5.7.22 // today i got to talk with one of my best friends and favorite people in the whole world for the first time in four months and i feel so Emotional but full. we talked about everything: life updates and doctor strange in the multiverse of madness & mental health & chronotypes & attachment styles & internal family systems & childhood trauma & gender roles & struggles with our faith & podcast recommendations & so much more. i laughed until i cried and also just cried. i’ve missed doing this <3

#belle's journal #belle.moodboards #friendship #we're such overthinkers and our conversations always go in so many different directions but that's what makes them so exciting #also because of our conversation i'm wondering again if i could have adhd and just haven't known because i've had good coping mechanisms?#it's something i want to look into seriously someday...#mental health #moodboards

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pockettwinzz · 6 days

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୨୧ Synopsis ୨୧ : You and Jungwon were in a relationship where you were always playing the dom role but today you decided to let jungwon take control

୨୧ Warnings ୨୧ : MDNI, Smut, Fingering, Dom!Jungwon x Sub!Fem Reader

୨୧ Author's Note ୨୧ : So umm i was going to make Yn the dom but changed my mind midway skskkss. Also not proofread {i'm really lazy to do it saur umm if you find any mistakes lmk} Dividers are by @dollywons ; Moodboard is by me

Jungwon was the type of person who was easy to overlook. Not because he was unattractive or unremarkable, but because he seemed to fade into the background, content to blend seamlessly with whatever scenery he found himself in. His personality was equally as unassuming; shy and reserved, he rarely spoke unless spoken to and often appeared to be lost in his own thoughts. It was this very quality that had initially drawn me to him, and after a few months of tentative flirting and subtle gestures, we finally became a couple.

I had never been the type to rush into things, and Jungwon was no different. Our relationship progressed slowly, with each of us taking our time to get to know the other. Despite his shyness, Jungwon was surprisingly open and honest with me, sharing his deepest fears and insecurities as if they were the most ordinary of thoughts. I found myself falling for him more and more with each passing day, my feelings for him growing into something deeply intense and profound.

But tonight, something was different. There was a restlessness in the air, a sense of anticipation that hung heavy between us. It was as if Jungwon knew what I wanted, and he was waiting for the right moment to give it to me. I could feel my body tingle with excitement, my heart racing with anticipation. I wanted him, and I knew he wanted me too.

I leaned in close, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, "Jungwon, I'm in the mood for something… different tonight." His breath hitched, and his eyes widened ever so slightly as he looked at me, searching for any sign of what I might be thinking. "I want you to take control, babe." The words slipped out of my mouth before I could really think about them, but the look of surprise and pleasure that flashed across his face told me I had made the right choice.

He nodded slowly, his fingers trembling as they traced the outline of my jaw. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've never done anything like that before." I smiled reassuringly and nodded, feeling a thrill of anticipation run through me at the thought of giving up control, even if only for a little while.

Jungwon took my hand and led me over to the bed, his movements almost tentative. He lay down on the mattress, propping himself up on one elbow to look at me. His eyes were filled with a mixture of nervousness and desire, and I could feel the heat emanating from his body as he waited for me to tell him what to do.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing in my chest. "You can be as gentle or as rough as you want," I whispered, my voice trembling slightly. "I'm yours tonight." The words were a gift, a surrendering of myself to him in a way that I had never done before, and as I watched his expression change from uncertainty to confidence, I knew that I had made the right choice.

Jungwon's hands moved slowly, deliberately, as if he were afraid of frightening me. He trailed his fingertips down the length of my arm, over my shoulder, and then back up again, tracing a delicate pattern on my skin. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, leaning in to kiss my neck. "So soft."

The sensation of his lips and breath against my skin sent a shiver down my spine, and I arched my back instinctively, pressing myself closer to him. He let out a soft moan, and then his hands moved lower, skimming over my hips and down to my thighs. He parted them slowly, spreading my legs wide, and then paused, looking at me intently.

I felt a thrill of anticipation run through me as I watched him, my heart pounding in my chest. His gaze was intense, almost possessive, and it sent a wave of heat washing over me. "Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Do whatever you want."

Jungwon smiled, and then his fingers began to dance across my skin, teasing and exploring every inch of my body. He traced lazy circles around my nipples, making them harden and ache for his touch. He moved lower, parting my folds and exposing me to his touch. His fingers were cool against my heat, but it didn't matter; I was on fire for him. He circled my clit, teasing and teasing until I was close to the edge, and then he pressed down just hard enough to send a wave of pleasure crashing through me.

I cried out his name, arching my back off the bed, my body shuddering with release. Jungwon leaned in closer, his lips finding my ear. "That's it," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Let go." His fingers continued to move, relentless in their pursuit of driving me wild. He pushed deeper, finding a rhythm that had me writhing beneath him. "You feel so good," he groaned, his hips beginning to move in time with his fingers.

He smiled against my skin, his hips moving faster, his fingers relentless. "Come for me," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. His fingers found my entrance, circling me, teasing me, before slipping inside. He thrust deep, his movements growing more urgent as he felt the tightness of me begin to give way. "You're so wet," he groaned, his hips moving faster still.

The sensation of being filled by him, of feeling so claimed and owned, sent a wave of pleasure coursing through me. I arched my back off the bed, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as I met his thrusts, matching his rhythm. I could feel the tension building inside me, the impending release threatening to overwhelm me.

Jungwon's breath was ragged against my neck, his hips moving faster and faster as he took me deeper and deeper. "I want to see you," he growled, his voice thick with desire. He lifted me up, his hands on my hips, and guided me to straddle him. "Ride me, baby."

As I lowered myself down onto him, his length filling me completely, a shudder of pleasure ran through me. I arched my back, throwing my head back, and began to move in time with him. His hands found my breasts, massaging and squeezing them as I rode him, and I moaned, feeling the sensation of his touch spreading through my body like wildfire.

The room was filled with the sound of our bodies moving together, the mattress groaning beneath us as we found our rhythm. I looked down at him, watching his expression as he watched me, and felt a wave of possessiveness wash over me. I wanted him, I needed him, and the feeling of being so close to him, of being so connected, was overwhelming.

His hands moved lower, cupping my hips, guiding me as I rode him, his thrusts matching my own. I could feel myself getting closer, the tension building inside me, and with each passing second I could feel him getting closer too. His breath came faster, his body tense with anticipation, and I knew that this moment, right here, was everything.

With a groan that was part pleasure, part release, I felt my body tremble and then convulse as another orgasm swept through me. My cries filled the room, echoing off the walls as my hips bucked wildly against him. He came then, his body tensing and shuddering beneath me, his hot seed spilling deep inside me.

As our breathing began to steady, Jungwon lowered me down until I was lying against him, his strong arms wrapped tightly around me. I could feel the dampness between us, a tangible reminder of our passion. He kissed me softly, his lips lingering on mine as he began to move his hips in a slow, lazy circle.

"That was incredible," he murmured, nuzzling his face into my neck. "You feel so good Yn. I could never get enough of you." His fingers traced lazy patterns over my skin, making me shiver with pleasure.

I lay in his arms, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heart against my cheek. For a moment, we just lay there, basking in the afterglow of our passion. "I could stay like this forever," I whispered, my voice still thick with desire.

He smiled, his fingers trailing up and down my spine. "Me too," he agreed, kissing the top of my head. "But we should probably get cleaned up before we fall asleep here." He chuckled softly.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡Permanent Taglist ༘˚⋆𐙚｡ @cha-eui @alvojake @heeslut4life @wondipity @dollywons @wonlvkay

{reply or send ask to be added Minors + blogs w/o ages DNI}

#pockettwinzz writes #enhypen #enha #enha x reader #18+ mdni #enhypen jungwon #jungwon #jungwon smut #enha smut #enhypen smut #jungwon x reader #jungwon x y/n

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hollyhomburg · 1 month

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Before I Leave You (Pt.68)

(Sneak Peek) (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your time is running out. minute by minute, breath by breath, kiss by kiss.

Tags: Angst, Hurt (no comfort yet), illusions to past mental health issues and past domestic abuse, mentions of low-self-esteem, internalized shame and self-shaming behaviors, themes of abandonment, speeding, guns, violence,

W/c: 12.4k

A/N: ahhhhh so here we are! i've been dreaming of this chapter since the very beginning of the series! this is like...the ultimate chapter...thank you for giving me a little bit of extra time to sit with it! we've still got a bit to go! fun fact that is actually my hand writing in the note in the moodboard....i couldn't find a pic of something i liked so i made it myself!

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Chapter 68: Before I Leave you (Sneak peak)

You look striking in the half darkness, a pair of Yoongi’s green flannel pajama pants rolled up several times to fit properly around your hips. A thin white tank top that's almost falling down one shoulder. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the need to hold, the need to protect. He makes a soft noise in his throat and your head jerks in his direction.

You swallow, and your lips look dry, eyes glassy and innocent in their tilt when your mussed hair fluffs over your shoulder. Messy from where Hobi was nuzzling it in his sleep.

“I was just getting a glass of water.”

Namjoon wordlessly holds his hand out to help you get out of the nest without teetering or disturbing the others. Noodle dashes back down the stairs with a soft meow. Tae sighs and re-settles, smacking her lips and Jimin’s arm tightens. Your mate turns face up in the nest, chest rising and falling, mouth opening like he can taste your scent on the air.

Namjoon doesn't doubt he can, honed in on you and focused as he always is.

Namjoon doesn’t let go of your hand when your feet find the smooth floor. Checking the wounds on your hands and verifying that they’re clotting, the margins slotted together properly for minimal scarring (he'd redone the glue-suture after your shower with minimal scolding). He stoops and presses a gentle kiss to the bandages after they are re-fastened. Letting his lips linger there for a second.

Namjoon has always had big hands, warm and steadying as they cradle yours. Small and chapped and scared.

Instead of continuing on downstairs, you linger for a second by Namjoon’s side. Eating up every word he says, his scent, and the comfort of having him nearby. Something you know you won’t have forever. (Somehow- you know that this will be the last time that Namjoon holds you. You can wait one minute more. you can give him one more minute) He sets the gun to the side and pulls you between his legs.

“Joonie?” You ask. Your pack alpha wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles forward, rubbing his spiky head across your midriff. Nose nudging the dimple of your belly button and the slight pudge there.

Namjoon will never not be happy that he can see the evidence of the pack’s love on you. Will never not feel proud of you. He nuzzles, and you huff a soft laugh that Namjoon feels against his cheek. Your warm soft skin swelling with laughter. Namjoon’s face is blushing red when he pulls back to look at you in the darkness. Corralled in the safe circle of his arms, fingers digging into your hips and squeezing.

“What are you doing alpha?”

“Just thinking- just-” Namjoon’s voice gets so much lower in the nighttime, it's a gravely growl. A sound that paints pictures of lightning and clouds hovering low like a blanket.

“When all of this is over, I want to go somewhere new.” Namjoon's hands tightening on your waist. “-With you. Just you. Just the two of us. Maybe.” Namjoon fights back a fresh blush at the confused cock of your head. “maybe- like- a fancy Airbnb? or something? Wouldn't that be fun? Would you like that?”

You pause, humming. Indulging Namjoon in this as he holds you loosely around your hips, fingers rubbing endlessly up and down the sensitive small of your back. Eyes wide and emploring like a child.

You're only too happy to forget for a second and imagine. What would happen if you didn’t leave tonight? What would happen if you found some way out of this- and imagine if you actually got your happily ever after. Just like in the movies.

But glass slippers cut. Dresses are rented not owned. Good dreams have the power to hurt- even when they’re good.

It’s easy to go further than just thinking about a simple weekend. You Imagine far into the future; a day that you'll never see. A future with Namjoon and the pack.

Namjoon would be a good father.

He’d be kind and patient. He’d never snap. He’d never yell. For a moment that’s all you want to think about- not a stupid weekend but a lifetime. A family. A world where you’re never yelled at, where you don't have to be afraid, where nothing is hard and even if it’s hard you do it together. Where you just get to live.

If you had pups, you know Namjoon would treat every skinned knee like it was surgery. Would never tell them to walk it off or say it wasn’t that bad. You know that he’d go through every tea party with gusto and stay up late to help them with their homework. That he’d struggle to say no but that you might never need to. It would be lovely- getting to give something small and innocent so much safety. It would be nice to have pups with Namjoon.

You can’t say you don’t want it, but you know in that moment that you won't get it. You'll never get to see Namjoon be a father- even if the pups aren't yours or are just his and Jin's. You’d love them all the same. What use is it to Imagine things that you’ll never get? What good are dreams like this but to tease you, just out of reach?

Namjoon nuzzles into your stomach again. His nose drawing soft circles just under your belly button.

You’d be a shit mother anyway. Too fragile. Too nervous. Too hurt. Too much of everything. You'd fuck them up just by being you. you'd fuck them up the same way you've fucked up this perfectly good pack. You've brought nothing but destruction upon them. The evidence of you is everywhere. The bullets in the ceiling, the blown apart door. Your hands and Hobi's throat. All of this is because of you.

You snap back to the present, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You’re gnawing at your own leg to survive. All things that bite cannot resist it. What good does hope do at the end other than to hurt?

Still- you can't resist asking Namjoon, curled around you like a protective barrier to keep out all the worlds hurts (or to keep you in)

“If we went? Where would we go? If we made it- What would it be like Joonie?”

Coming Saturday March 23rd at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

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navybrat817 · 1 year

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Adventures in Babysitting

Pairing: Florist!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You learn something sweet about Bucky when you have to babysit at the last minute. Word Count: Almost 2k Warnings: Fluff, self-doubt, crying baby (is that a warning), slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: @christywantspizza , thank you for the wonderful request for our florist and just being awesome. Hope you like it! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You consider yourself to be a smart and capable woman. You handled most issues with grace and a level head when they came your way. Ruth leaned on you more than once when problems came up during her wedding planning. It meant a lot that she and others could count on you.

Which is likely why your neighbor, Ava, came to you for help.

"I'm so sorry to bother you. I know you don't know me very well."

The poor woman tried to compose herself as she rocked her five month old baby, Harper, in her arms. They hadn't lived in the area for very long, but Ava was polite when you saw her. You always stopped to chat with her for a minute and made silly faces at the baby. It was sweet.

Seeing her in your doorway in tears almost made you tear up.

"Are you okay? Is Harper okay?" you asked, rushing to get her a tissue. Just because they looked fine physically didn't mean they weren't hurt. "And you aren't bothering me."

"We're fine, but it's a family emergency," she told you as fresh tears fell, wiping her eyes as she balanced Harper with one arm. "I'm sorry to ask, but would you be able to watch her? Hopefully no more than a couple of hours? I've tried calling everyone else and I can pay-"

"I can watch her," you said, holding out your arms. You didn't have anything else going on and you wanted to help her. "You just take care of what you need to do."

"Oh, thank you. Thank you," Ava said, smiling through her tears. She handed you the diaper bag before you carefully took Harper. "I owe you one."

"No, you don't. Just take your time and be safe," you urged, smiling down at the baby. You were glad she was at least somewhat familiar with you. "Does she need a bottle?"

Ava quickly explained that you would need to feed Harper within the next twenty minutes. She left instructions in the bag with how much to feed her, along with diapers, wipes, burp cloth, extra onesies, a blanket, and her teething ring. She also had your number to keep you updated if she would be longer than a couple of hours.

"Thank you again," Ava said, giving her baby a kiss on the top of her head. "Mama loves you. I'll be back as soon as I can."

You gently shut the door with your foot once Ava left, smiling wider when the baby cooed. "We're going to have a lot of fun, aren't we?"

Harper wouldn't stop crying.

"Do you want me to put you down?" you asked, carefully placed her on her back. You winced when she let out a louder cry. "Okay, okay. Bad idea. Sorry," you said, picking her back up.

You gave her the bottle exactly as instructed. You burped her afterward. She had a fresh diaper. She wanted nothing to do with her teething ring. Soft music didn't calm her down and she wouldn't sleep.

What am I doing wrong?

"You miss your mama, don't you?" you asked as you tried to rock her.

More tears rolled down her cheeks as she cried louder, making you wince again as the sound echoed in your ears. You began to walk around the room, doing your best to soothe her. Admittedly, it had been years since you babysat, but you were usually able to keep most babies happy. Why couldn't you do the same with Harper?

"What can I do?" you asked yourself, taking a deep breath when your phone rang. "Shh, shh, it's okay," you said softly, keeping Harper against your chest as you answered.

You didn't even bother to see who called when you put it on speaker.

"Hey, Petal," Bucky's voice happily rang out. "I'm leaving the shop and I was-"

Harper wailed before he could finish his statement.

"Is that a baby?" he asked after a beat, clearly confused. You didn't blame him. You hadn't had a chance to message him that you were babysitting. "Is everything okay?"

"It's my neighbor Ava's baby. She had a family emergency and she asked if I could watch Harper. Bucky, I can't get her to stop crying," you explained, almost in tears yourself. "I-I don't know what to do."

Something had to be wrong with you if you couldn't calm a normally happy baby.

"I'm on my way, okay? You got this," he promised, his tone gentle, but not condescending.

"Okay. I'll see you soon," you smiled for his sake before you hung up. "I got this."

Harper sobbed as you began to walk again.

I don't got this.

Bucky took the crying baby from your arms the moment he walked through the door. There was no fear in his eyes when he looked her over, only concern. He gave you a once-over, too. You probably looked terrible.

Can't call me perfect anymore.

"I fed her, burped her, changed her, tried to put her down for a nap, walked around with her," you told him, watching as he slowly put his hand on Harper's tummy. "Maybe she just doesn't like me?"

"I don't think it has anything to do with you," he said, cooing as he walked over to the couch. "You love Petal, don't you?"

You knew deep down there could be many reasons why Harper was upset, but you wished you knew how to help.

Bucky took a seat and furrowed his brows when he felt her tummy again. "How long ago did you feed her? Did she drink her whole bottle?"

You checked the time. "Over thirty minutes ago. And she drank the entire bottle pretty fast."

"Should be plenty of time to put you on your tummy, right? Poor baby. You're probably still a little gassy, aren't you?" he asked, smiling tenderly as placed her across his legs on her stomach.

You watched in fascination as Bucky began to slowly rub her back. Harper's cries began to decrease after a minute and you finally felt the tension leave your shoulders. Seeing your beefy florist calm an upset baby was a sight to behold. The ease at which he handled her made your fall in love with him a bit more. Especially since you knew how far he had come with his metal arm.

I think my ovaries clenched. How is that possible? No, focus.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as Bucky began to hum. The sound seemed to soothe Harper even more. The cries stopped completely when she let out a loud burp.

"There. That's better, isn't it? No wonder you were upset. That was a big burp," Bucky said in a quiet voice, still making small circles on her back. "Let's see if there's anymore, okay?"

You sat down in the chair, wringing your fingers in your lap as Harper burped again. You should have known to try that. Why didn't you?

"Um, thanks."

You tried to smile at Bucky, but it fell flat.

He shook his head when he caught your frown. "Hey. Don't beat yourself up. You did everything right, okay? I don't know how gassy she normally is, but it could've been because she drank her bottle so fast."

Of course, he knew I'd mentally chastise myself.

You did smile this time. "How do you know so much about this?"

"Um," he shifted so he could readjust Harper and lay her against his chest. She looked so small in his arms, but perfectly content. "Becca was a colicky baby?"

"Was that a question?" you teased.

He blushed as he held Harper a bit closer when she yawned. "I'm kind of embarrassed because we haven't really talked about it," he began as you raised an eyebrow. "I've, uh, read a couple of parenting books and done research on babies because. Well, I might want to be a dad one day."

"You want to be a dad?" you asked, moving from the chair so you could sit beside him. You were careful not to jolt him or disturb Harper. She needed her rest. "And you took it upon yourself to research this kind of stuff?"

"Yeah, I did," he said, avoiding your gaze momentarily. Did he think this topic scared you or that you'd judge him? "I know some things about parenting can't come from books, but a bit of knowledge wouldn't hurt. I just want to be a hands-on dad if it ever happens, you know?"

The blush almost spread to his neck as he kissed the top of Harper's head. Somehow your boyfriend continued to find ways to surprise you and melt your heart. He deserved a family and all the happiness in the world.

"I think that's sweet."

"You do?" he asked, uncertainty in his blue eyes as he looked at you.

That look doesn't belong there.

"Yeah. You're always good with the kids in the shop and I don't know many guys who would take that kind of initiative. You really are one of a kind," you said, smiling when his gaze returned to normal.

He leaned his head over to brush his lips against yours. There was relief in his kiss and you returned it with your own. He saved the day and you were thankful he could be honest with you.

"I didn't want to freak you out," he said

You glanced at Harper, who had her eyes closed. She must have fallen asleep moments ago, either exhausted from her cries or soothed by the florist's warm presence. It could have been both.

She feels safe with you, Bucky. As any lucky baby would.

"I don't think you could ever freak me out, but we can discuss it more over dinner if you want," you said as you put your head on his shoulder.

"I'd like that," he whispered.

The soft tone had your heart skipping a beat. "Besides, you have the paternal instinct down pact. Bet that's why your hair is pulled back."

"It's from work, but I'll take the compliment. And you have a maternal instinct," he told you, making you snort in disagreement. "Hey, none of that. Ava trusted you enough to leave Harper with you and that says a lot."

"But I couldn't soothe her," you whispered.

"Was she happy before she was gassy?"

You thought about it. Harper was fine in the beginning and snuggled against you. She must have felt safe and happy enough in your home.

"She was," you said truthfully.

And I'd be upset if I was gassy, too.

"So you're fine," he smiled. "And you know what else is a good motherly instinct? Asking for help when you need it, like you did today."

He soothed both of us, Harper.

"But we don't need to talk about that now," he added. "I think you deserve a break."

You knew he was giving you an out in case the topic made you uncomfortable.

"We can discuss it over dinner," you offered, seeing the corner of his lip tug in a smile. "Thank you for taking care of her and being my hero," you said, closing your eyes and resting your hand on his chest beside Harper's head.

You pictured Bucky in his shop with a baby in his arms, wearing a blue shirt to match the onesie as he showed him or her all of the beautiful flowers with a loving smile. He even had his hair down in your daydream so your baby could play with it. He'd be so caring and proud. Everything you wanted and more.

"You'll make the best daddy one day."

After a moment, Harper's little hand wrapped around your pinky finger.

"And you'll be the best mommy, Petal," Bucky whispered.

If he was sure of it, so were you.

I love them! ❤️ Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #florist!bucky barnes #florist!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #florist au #beefy florist au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan #florist and petal #bucky barnes x y/n

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perotovar · 6 months

Text

into the beat of the night (ch 1) "transmission"

gif by me, moodboard by the lovely @sp00kymulderr ♥

pairing: frankie morales/nb!oc (they/them) rating: T (for now) chapter warnings: discussions of sexuality/gender (frankie doesn't understand some things and may use language that would be harmful, but it's not intentional), limited knowledge of the military, goth stereotypes abound, mentions of drug addiction/recovery, swearing, cute shit word count: 2.7k dividers by @saradika

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series summary: frankie morales thought he had himself figured out by now. he liked both men and women, had dated both in the past. but when someone that challenges what he thinks that means comes into his life, in an unlikely place, he truly learns who he is, and more importantly, who he loves.

series masterlist

a/n - i can't thank y'all enough for giving my fic a chance! i'm really nervous about posting it since i haven't properly written anything in years, but i've had some lovely cheerleaders (@scenaaario - who is also my lovely beta, i want to kiss you on the mouth for making this fic sound like i wanted it to ♥♥ - @undercoverpena @mrsquill and @kedsandtubesocks i love you guys ♥) along the way that gave me the motivation to post this little story. comments and reblogs are super appreciated! i'd love to hear what y'all think <3

In 1994, the U.S. adopted “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” as the official federal policy on military service by lesbian, gay and bisexual individuals. It was officially repealed in 2011. Seventeen years. For seventeen years, LGBTQ folks, Frankie included, had to hide. At least, he felt he needed to.

He knew he was bisexual when he and his childhood best friend Mateo were in their sophomore year of high school. Frankie and all the other boys started to hit puberty the year before and things were changing: facial hair was slowly growing, voices were dropping. Mateo started to develop a little faster than Frankie did. Frankie really liked how Mateo was developing. It was a little weird, because they’d been best friends since they were still wearing underoos, but Frankie started to feel things whenever he hung out with Mateo. Things he normally only felt whenever Alana in third period flipped her hair over her shoulder, or whenever Charlotte in fifth period stretched before she started writing and her sweater pulled over her chest a little too much.

Frankie didn’t know what to do with this information or these feelings. He didn’t have a word for any of it, so he just never said anything. He had a couple girlfriends throughout high school, and to anyone who cared to think on it, would see that Frankie was like any other straight, high school boy.

In 1994, Francisco Morales joined the military. He was nineteen. It was never his plan growing up to join, but his dad always wanted him to. When he didn’t have his own plan after high school, he figured it was a safe bet since he had family in the service. While there, he worked his way up in the ranks and eventually met his brothers: Santiago, Benny, Will, and Tom. They would die for each other, had signed up to do so, in fact. He’d grown closest to Santiago, and it was the first time since he was 15 that he got those feelings again. He pushed them to the side, though, because that’s when she came into his life. He didn’t need those feelings getting in the way.

Frankie’s bisexuality really only came into his life a couple of times. His first girlfriend in the military, Layla, was also bisexual and that’s when he learned what the word was and that it also applied to him. She only ever told him since Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was in full swing. Of course he kept her secret, because she also kept his.

The only one of his group of brothers that didn’t know about his sexuality was Tom. He didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell him, and the others agreed it was best to keep it quiet. Santiago was the first one to know, then Will, and finally Benny. Ben was Ben about it when he found out. He immediately hugged Frankie and excitedly suggested they go to a gay bar instead of their usual hang out. It made Frankie laugh and Will smacked Ben on the back of the head. (They did end up going to a couple of gay bars from time to time. Frankie only went home with a guy once and the guys gave him a lot of shit for it, asking for details. Santiago gave him a smile and patted him on the back and said, “I’m glad you’re finally here, hermano.”)

Frankie had one man he’d consider a “boyfriend” in his life. After he left the military and after DADT was repealed, he went on a bit of a binge. He started hooking up with people more often, despite his introverted nature. He was always careful, safe, and eventually kept to one man for a couple years, before an especially messy breakup. They were both pilots in the military, but were based in different states; Frankie in Florida, and Jackson in Kentucky. They bonded quickly after meeting at a nightclub in Nashville. Neither one of them remembers why they were there, but they made it a point to see each other frequently, each of them taking turns flying out to see the other.

The breakup happened after Jackson found Frankie’s stash for the last time. The military affected everyone differently. For Frankie, his coke addiction is what got him through the sleepless nights. Jackson had found Frankie one too many times leaned over the back of a toilet and snorting god knows what. Jackson had his own problems with drugs and felt that Frankie ignored them in search of his next fix. Addiction had completely taken over Frankie’s life for the better part of five years. Frankie hated Jackson for leaving him when he most needed him, and lashed out, accusing Jackson of only ever wanting to fuck. That broke Jackson, as he thought about how deeply he loved Frankie. Gay marriage was legalized a year later, and had things panned out differently, they might still be together. He doesn’t blame Jackson for leaving anymore.

Frankie’s daughter, Marisol, changed everything. She was the love of his life, and he would do anything for her. After going back to his days of sleeping around after Jackson left, he met Maya. He kept telling her that he would get clean and go to therapy while she was pregnant, but not until he held his little Marisol in his arms for the first time did he commit to both. He and Maya never planned on being together officially, and decided co-parenting would be their best option.

He’d been clean and sober for two years by the time Santi told him about the Colombia job. He hadn’t flown, or been allowed to in that time, and was pretty content to never do so again. Every time he got in the pilot’s seat, it would take him to terrible places. But Santi was his best friend, so he took the job. He relapsed when he got home, after Tom. He never blamed Santi for it. He gave Frankie a choice, and where he could’ve said no, he didn’t.

Which brings him to where he is now, two years after Colombia. He’d crossed the street and stood in line for the entrance. He hadn’t been to this nightclub in a while. He looked up at the sign for the club, and raised an eyebrow. The Night Owl. That… isn’t what it was called last time. Was it sold? Apparently, it had recently undergone a rebranding, with new owners, and a slightly… different clientele.

The best way he could describe it now was that it was a goth club. Frankie had never personally been to this sort of club, not really being a fan of the music or subculture, but never had a negative opinion either. He stuck out like a sore thumb when he entered, the bouncer giving him a once over and chuckling, but letting him in anyway.

He made his way over to the bar and had a seat, taking in his surroundings and started people watching. He planned on going out tonight, and possibly go home with someone. A club is a club, so he decided to stick around and see what all the fuss was about.

The walls shook with the heavy bass and beats of the music. It wasn’t like anything he’d heard before. His nostrils filled with the scent of clove cigarettes and hairspray. Everywhere he looked, someone completely decked out in teased hair and black clothing caught his attention. He smiled softly at all the variations in people’s style, wondering how long it took for all of them to get ready in the morning.

The bartender, a large man with heavy eye makeup and a lot of chains and spikes, came up to him and smirked. He felt a presence behind him and when Frankie finally faced forward again, he startled a little, not expecting such an imposing figure to be giving him a staredown.

“What’ll you be havin’, stripes?”

“Stripes?”

The bartender, who had a patch sewed onto his denim vest that read “Viper”, rolled his eyes and gestured vaguely to Frankie’s whole self. “You mean to tell me you’re not military?”

Frankie blinked a couple times and huffed a laugh. “Ex-military, yeah. Is that… okay?”

Viper gave him a long look, eyes slightly narrowed, and pointed to one of the many tattoos on his arm, up high on his shoulder. It was an old one, a little faded, but Frankie recognized it as the stripes given to Sergeant Majors. “I left after this. Got injured,” he said.

“Sorry to hear that.”

Viper shrugged and reached under the bar, cleaning a glass. “I’m not. So what’re you havin’?”

Frankie thought about it for a second. “I’ll probably regret this, but surprise me.”

An amused look crossed Viper’s features, but he nodded and started mixing a drink for him. Frankie noticed all the ingredients used; lager beer, hard cider, and some kind of syrup. He raised a brow and picked up the glass as Viper slid it across the bar for him. Frankie gave him a look as if to say, ‘Is this safe?’ despite having just watched Viper make it. The bartender chuckled and just gestured for him to give it a try.

Frankie took a deep breath and gulped down a drink. A little foam was stuck to his mustache when he lowered the glass from his face. “Not bad. What is it?” Frankie asked.

“Snakebite. Kind of a staple around here,” Viper hummed, cleaning a different glass.

Frankie chuckled at the name. Of course that’s what it was called.

Viper was pulled away when a pretty girl with big, teased hair and dark makeup came up to the bar. Frankie took the opportunity to look around the place again.

The music was best described as “dark” and “broody”, unsurprisingly, with slow tempos and even lower vocals. Everyone on the dancefloor was slowly swaying back and forth and, once in a while, would move their arms in ethereal shapes.

Frankie remembered seeing one of the younger teachers at Marisol’s daycare wearing a t-shirt with a band logo that looked like a bundle of sticks. He tried figuring out what it said once, but was too afraid to ask, so he still doesn’t know. He doesn’t think she’d be at this kind of club.

“You’re new. Bit like a zoo your first time here, I bet.”

Frankie startled, putting his hand over his heart and turned to look at who was talking. Someone had sat next to him and was grinning, taking a sip from their own drink; something dark red and a little cloudy. He blinked a couple times and took in their features; big green eyes rimmed with dark lines, two different nose piercings, and black lipstick. Their hair was long and straight, dark, and with the right side in front of their ear shaved completely. He couldn’t quite figure out if who he was talking to was male or female, the androgyny of their look very clear.

“Uhh, hello?” They waved their hand, full of rings and black nail polish, in front of his face and chuckled quietly. “Oh! Maybe–” They cut themselves off and started making a bunch of symbols and shapes with their fingers and hands.

Frankie blinked and started laughing softly. “I’m not deaf! Sorry,” he grinned. “You just startled me, that's all.”

“Oh!” The stranger laughed, too, putting a hand on his right knee in a friendly gesture. He looked down at the hand and smiled, his heart skipping a beat. Even if he didn’t know very much about them, he couldn’t deny it; they were very pretty.

He removed his cap and ran his fingers through the unruly curls for a second before putting the hat back on. “Sorry,” he repeated, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah, it’s my first time here. I didn’t realize the club had changed owners.”

“It did?” They asked, tilting their head to the left slightly.

“Yeah, it was a– Uh, last time I was here, it was a… different kind of club,” Frankie mumbled.

The stranger’s eyes twinkled mischievously, the smirk still present on their lips. “What kind of club? Are you secretly into some really heavy BDSM type stuff?” They wiggled their eyebrows.

Frankie had started taking a drink of his Snakebite again and nearly choked on it at the stranger’s teasing. He coughed a couple times, a wide grin on his face. “No! Nothing like that,” he chuckled.

The stranger snapped their ring-clad fingers like they were hoping he’d say otherwise and slumped their shoulders in disappointment. “Damn…”

Frankie’s cheeks warmed at the insinuation, but laughed, convinced they were just joking with him. He cleared his throat and continued, “Y-Yeah, uh, I wasn’t expecting this kind of… group, when I came by. Although, the name of the place probably should’ve warned me.”

“What kind of group?” The stranger grinned, watching his handsome features change from thoughtful to concerned.

Frankie panicked, worried he’d somehow offended them, and cleared his throat again. “N-Not that there’s anything wrong with– Um! I don’t, actually… know,” he tapered off, looking down as he scratched the back of his neck nervously.

The stranger snorted and waved him off. “I’m fucking with you,” they laughed. “I know what you mean. When I heard a new club opened up closer to my apartment, I got pretty excited. No more hour-long drives to the nearest one, y’know?”

Frankie nodded, their low, smooth voice captivating him the longer they spoke.

“Oh! Meant to say this before, but my name’s River,” they smiled and held their hand out to him to shake.

“Frankie,” he answered, holding his own hand out to return the gesture. But River beat him to it, and gripped his long, thick fingers in their own hand and kissed the back of his softly.

Frankie blushed like mad, eyes widening slightly. No one had ever kissed his hand before. He kept his eyes downcast, his hand still securely in River’s grasp.

River tilted their head, brows furrowed in concern before letting go of his hand. “Sorry, was that–?”

“No! N-No, um…” Frankie smiled shyly, tugging at a loose curl behind his ear. “It was fine– Nice, actually.”

River grinned as if they had clocked him immediately. “Well, Frankie, it was very nice meeting you. Will I see you here again?” They asked, looking him up and down.

Frankie found himself nodding before he could say or do anything else. “Y-Yeah, absolutely. Um, how–?”

“My song just came on, and I simply must dance to it. Later,” River winked, stood, and leaned over to kiss Frankie’s cheek as they slipped something into the front pocket of his flannel shirt.

River was gone before Frankie could ask anything else, his eyes following after them as they reached the dancefloor. He watched them dance for a few minutes before he was brought out of it by someone clearing their throat behind him. He spun around and saw Viper, the bartender, leaning toward him and giving him a look.

“You gonna pay for these drinks?” He grumbled, motioning toward Frankie’s Snakebite and whatever River was drinking.

He followed Viper’s tattooed finger and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling his wallet out and putting a couple bills on the bar. Viper nodded in thanks and Frankie took that as his cue to leave.

As he stood, he looked toward the dancefloor again in the hopes of seeing River one last time. When he didn’t, he tried to shake himself off and made his way toward the entrance. The bouncer gave him a look and Frankie just shrugged as he exited the club. The cool night air hit his still-warm cheeks, making him feel like he came back to reality.

“Oh, right,” he mumbled to himself and reached into his front pocket and pulled out a little scrap of paper. A phone number with two cute little devil horns drawn on either side and a little, ‘text me?’ written down beneath it.

Frankie smiled to himself and rubbed the ink on the paper with his thumb.

#frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fluff #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fluff #pedro pascal characters #oaksfics

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lunarbuck · 11 months

Note

Jane!! I'm so excited for you and your 1.5k followers! Thanks for letting me be part of the things. In an effort to help you pick back up with BFB!Bucky, do you think we can see some sexy times? Maybe early on when they're still keeping it a secret?

I'm sorry i've made you wait like over a year for anything from this AU 😭 I hope you enjoy this!!!

moodboard is for vibes only, not what reader looks like

Thinking This Through

pairing: bfb!buck x f!reader (any race)

wc: 1.7k

summary: A secret night with Bucky (from his POV)

warnings: secret relationship, fluff, pet names [pretty girl, baby, boo bear], oral (f receiving), smut (p in v), swearing

a/n: this part takes place before part 2 so it's technically out of order!! it's also in bucky's pov which was fun :)))

series masterlist | au playlist | my masterlist | 1.5k sleepover Title is a lyric from the 1975's song I'm in Love With You

I catch her eye from across the bar and find myself smirking into my beer. No matter where she is, no matter how many people are in the room, I always manage to find her. It’s like she fucking calls to me, a siren singing her beautiful song to lure me in.

Well fuck it, I don’t care if she’s a siren. I want her all to myself.

Some girl slides up next to me, getting way too close for comfort, and batts her long eyelashes at me. “You wanna buy me a drink?” She asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder. I can tell she bleaches it too much; it looks fried.

“Not really,” I reply, not caring to soften my tone for this girl. Maybe before I would’ve bought her one, maybe I would’ve entertained whatever this girl is trying to accomplish, but not anymore. Not since Becca’s gorgeous best friend turned my world upside down.

“You sure?” I feel the girl’s long, manicured fingers squeeze my arm, and I have to bite back the urge to tell her I’m taken. We’re not telling people yet. Neither of us are ready for the consequences of Becca finding out.

“He’s sure,” Steve says, patting me on the back. The girl rolls her eyes as Steve shoos her away, but I don’t bother watching her leave. My eyes are back on the only girl I want to see tonight and every night.

She smiles at me brightly before her friend snags her attention again. Steve orders us another round as I text her. I want her with me tonight; I don’t care where we end up. I just want us together.

Bucky: You got plans after this, pretty girl?

Boo Bear: hm… i’m not sure yet

Bucky: Boo Bear? Really?

Boo Bear: i’m surprised it took you this long to notice

Bucky: anyways, i’ve decided you have plans we’re going home together in 20 minutes.

Boo Bear: becca’s hanging out with ethan tonight, she said she won’t be home until after her class tomorrow morning

Bucky: perfect, see you in a few, boo bear

I try not to smile too hard at my phone, especially with Steve standing right next to me. He’s caught me practically kicking my feet while I text her way too many times. It’s becoming a problem at this point.

Steve and I shoot the shit for a bit, and I pay my tab, shooting off another text to my girl, letting her know to meet me across the street. A few minutes later, I see her exit the crowded bar. She looks fucking fantastic, good enough to eat. Her jeans are tight in all the right places, and her top shows off enough skin to make my mouth water.

I never get over how perfect she looks, no matter what she wears or where we are. I don’t know how I held off for so long; I’m addicted now.

“Hey, boo bear,” I whisper once she’s close enough. I tug her close and breathe her in, pressing a kiss to her neck.

“Hey, Buck.”

The second the door shuts behind us, I’m on her. I press her against the wall, loving how soft she is against my body. Her hands grip my shirt, nails gently scraping against my chest. I kiss her deeply, tasting her.

“You’re gonna kill me, Buck,” she whispers, nipping at my lip. I dip my head, kissing along the soft skin of her neck as my hands trace down her body. I hook my arms under her legs and pick her up, wrapping her legs around my waist.

“You got it all wrong, pretty girl. You’re gonna be the death of me.” I walk us to the couch and sit, positioning her on my lap, and she immediately grinds her hips against me, drawing a groan out of me.

I tug at the bottom of her shirt until she lifts her arms, letting me pull it over her head, and I bite back a moan at the sight of her in just her bra and tight jeans. My lips immediately attack her collarbone, biting and nipping a trail down to her perfect tits.

She watches me, lips parted, as my hands find their way to her back, undoing the clasp on her bra. When I pull the garment away, she shivers, and I practically come in my goddamn pants.

“I love when you look at me like that,” she whispers, fingers tugging at my hair. I take one of her nipples in my mouth, running my tongue over the bud. She gasps, gripping me tighter.

While I tease her with my mouth, my left hand traces her skin, the metal cool against her heated body, and my right finds the button on her jeans.

“Pants. Off, Now,” I tell her.

“Ooh, Caveman Bucky is coming out to play,” she teases, standing on shaky legs to strip her jeans off. I shift until I’m sitting on the edge of the couch, my eyes level with her belly, and gaze up at her.

She’d never believe her if I told her, but she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

I run my fingers along the band of her panties; she’s ticklish there, before I tug them down her legs. “You’re wearing too many clothes, Buck,” she tells me, reaching for my shirt. I let her pull it off of me, my jeans following soon after, and before I know it, I have her pressed into the couch with my head between her legs.

I love the way she grips my hair, showing me exactly what she wants while I eat her out. My hips grind against the couch, seeking any sort of friction I can find. I work her up with my tongue and fingers, desperate to feel her come.

Her face twists up, and she makes these beautiful breathy sounds, and I know she’s close. “Come on, baby, come for me,” I practically grunt, circling her clit the way she likes.

She comes with my name on her lips, and I can’t help but smile, knowing I’m the one that gets to do this to her, the one that gets to have her like this. I shift off the couch and pick her up, carrying her to her room.

I settle her onto the bed, kiss her until she’s breathless one more time, and run out into the main room to grab our clothes. We can never be too careful. Once I’m back, I pounce on her. I’m starving when it comes to my girl. I can never get enough.

“Please, Bucky,” she whines when I settle myself between her legs. She can feel how much I want her, how badly I’m aching for her, but I need her to beg a little more.

“Come on, baby,” I whisper. She knows what I want her to say.

“Fuck, Bucky, please fuck me.” I grin and sit up, watching her writhe on the bed. I fucking love her like this.

“You want me to fuck your pretty pussy?” I ask her, running my thumb over her sensitive clit.

“Please, please, please,” she chants, giving in to the feeling.

“Your wish is my command, baby.” I line my cock up with her and slowly press in, gritting my teeth at how tight she is. Once I’m fully inside her, I don’t move slow; I don’t give her much of a warning before I set a quick, deep pace.

I kiss her all over, needing to feel her everywhere. Her hands grip my back, scratching her nails against my skin, and I love that I’ll probably have marks tomorrow. Steve’ll probably give me shit, but I can’t wait.

I lose myself in fucking her, in pouring myself into the beautiful girl below me. She’s blissed out, loving the pleasure I give her. I press deeply inside of her, making her moan. She clenches around me, and I know she’s close again.

I help her turn over, lifting her hips into the air. She settles her upper body onto the mattress, and I have to groan at how perfect she looks like this. Gripping her hips, I press back into her and fuck her, my dick hitting deeper inside her in this position.

She’s a bumbling mess, moaning incoherently, and a sense of pride bubbles up in me. I know I won’t last much longer, so I reach around and find her clit again, bringing her back up to her peak.

“Come on, pretty girl.” She presses her hips against me, begging me to keep going. “I know you wanna come again; you wanna come all over my dick, don’t you?” She nods even though her face is pressed into the mattress.

“Yes, Bucky.”

“Then come for me, baby. I wanna see you come on my cock.” I fuck her harder, picking up the pace on her clit, and a few moments later, she comes hard, sending me over the edge right along with her.

Together, we collapse onto the bed, and I pull her close, needing the skin to skin contact. I know I need to get up and grab a towel so I can clean her up, but right now, this is where I need to be. I need to be wrapped up in my girl.

As we’re catching our breath, I hear the front door click open, and the familiar sound of my sister’s voice rings loudly through the apartment. I roll my eyes as I stand, looking for my boxers. I look over at my girl and see her frantically searching for her phone. When she grabs it, she shows me a text from Becca saying that since Ethan’s roommate is home, they’re coming back here.

I stifle a laugh; we always have shit luck with this stuff. We settle back into bed and wait for Becca and Ethan to find their way into Becca’s room, but in the meantime, I enjoy cuddling with my beautiful girl.

I want to go public. I want to tell Becca. I hate all this secret stuff, even though it’s fun sometimes. Hopefully, she feels the same. I press a kiss to her forehead as she scrolls through her various social media apps and make sure she knows just how much I like being here with her.

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nonclassyparty · 3 months

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tins without labels - prologue (j.wy)

summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba) // click to donate to Palestine

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: none for this chapter i think! word count: 9.3k taglist: just reply or inbox me if u'd like to be added c: a/n: pls don't say damn when u see that i started another story. listen LISTEEEEEN. i know what u all will say..."bree should u rly be starting another series when u havent finished or started the 4757 bajillion ones that u already posted?" the answer is YES. let me explain myself briefly, this summer has been rly hard for me bc i lost someone who was incredibly important to me and i just can't write...i just can't! everything looks like shit!!! im halfway done with soot and something just isn't letting me continue. i can't write pretty on the outside or literally anything else i've started bc its all simply too sad. writing is draining to begin with despite how much i love and enjoy it but writing angst is k wording my mental health lol! so....i present to you this series, mostly dedicated to myself literally no one asked for this, i just feel like its something i need to write and always wanted to so here i go! it will be a little heartwarming series with lots of humor and coming of age shenanigans and huge chunks of it written from personal experience and i hope u guys read it and like it. i had a lot of fun writing this prologue. (p.s. i literally know jackshit about football/soccer so if by some chance someone that reads this knows their football shit....just let it go pls lmfaoo)

(prologue; when we were kids)

and I couldn't find the words, i couldn't think of what to say and all that I can do is stop and think about the days when all we used to dream about was meeting after school

6 and 8 years old;

Your mom helped you build the snowman.

An entire morning of running around your front yard, laughing and playing in the freshly fallen snow, seeing the air you breathe out in front of you that you pretended was cigarette smoke to make your mom laugh as the cold nipped at your cheeks.

The snowman was almost twice your size (which wasn't a lot, you were a fairly small child) with pebbles stuck in as his eyes and teeth pulled up in a big grin. Your mom found a small bucket in the old shed behind the house which she placed on his head as a makeshift hat and because you didn't have any carrots, there was a small twig stuck at the center of the snowman's face to serve as a long crooked nose.

(The snowman didn't have any arms, a detail that went over your head at the time.)

After admiring the big statue in the farther corner of your front yard for awhile, you finally retreated into the house with your socks wet along with the majority of your hot pink snowsuit. As you kicked off the damp clothes and exchanged them for warm, dry ones and fuzzy socks and then settled in front of the TV in the toasty living room with a mug of cocoa - you couldn't help but feel that it was a happy day.

Which is why when, in the late afternoon, once you looked out of your window to see what once used to be your snowman is now nothing but a big pile of disheveled snow with his plastic hat rolling around the sidewalk and two boys running away down the street with shrill laughter echoing after them, you simply couldn't help but burst into tears.

"Mommy!" You screamed out, running outside your front door in fuzzy socks and your sweater, as dramatic as you were. But you were six and your life still ended and began with coloring books and favorite toys, so a snowman that you made with your mom getting destroyed, surely felt like the end of the world.

Once your mom stepped out after you, about to scold you for walking outside into the cold air with no jacket on, you burst into crocodile tears as you pointed to the spot where your snowman once stood.

"Oh, no." She breathed out with a sigh before grabbing her jacket and slipping into whatever shoes were available by the door (they were your dad's old tennis shoes) and walking across the front yard to collect the small bucket from the sidewalk.

All you could do was stand and watch as you wailed so loudly after your snowman that the entire neighbourhood could hear.

"Honey, it's okay." Your mom tried to soothe you as she walked up the steps to your house, carrying what used to be the snowman's hat. "It's just a snowman, we'll make another one tomorrow!"

But you were inconsolable, bursting out in another wave of loud cries as you stomped your tiny foot and pointed to the house across the street.

"They ruined it! W-Wooyoung ruined it!" You sob, waving towards the boy's house with all the anger a six year old could possibly muster. You knew it was him, recognizing the ugly red jacket he wore this entire winter and his even uglier looking friend, Chanwook.

You weren't friends with Wooyoung. He was older than you and all of his friends were mean. You once tried to play with them when you first moved to the neighbourhood but they didn't want to play with a girl. You cried about that too.

They often teased you. Wooyoung said your crooked teeth made you look ugly!

She sighs again, "And that was very mean of him. But, Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow."

"But-" You start again, tears still sliding down your face.

"We'll build him in the backyard where we have a fence, so no-one will be able to touch him." She offers with a smile, hoping you'll finally be consoled enough to walk inside and be safe from the harsh cold.

"But I won't be able to look at him from the window." You tell her quietly, voice going hoarse from the crying and bottom lip already wobbling as another wave of tears began to sunk in. She gives you a sympathetic smile.

"We'll get him a prettier hat and we'll use two long branches to give him arms!" Your mom offers again, trying to butter you up so the tears would stop. "We'll get a carrot for his nose and big pretty rocks for his eyes!" Once she realized it was working, she continued; "And we'll take a picture of you with him so you'll always get to look at him, even when he melts away!"

You peer up at her with a hiccup, finally bribed enough; "A picture?"

She nods, holding the door wider for you to finally walk inside as you inch towards the door, fuzzy socks now soaked, "A picture. We'll send your dad to the mall to develop them."

So, you finally walk inside the warm house again, changing your socks and immediately going to your father's home office to pester him about the camera and just how long will it take for a picture to be developed.

"-Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow!"

Wooyoung heard your mom tell you as he peers at the exchange from across the street, through his bedroom window, freshly changed into dry clothes after a long hard day of playing outside with Chanwook and now, warming his frozen hands on the radiator.

When Wooyoung saw the snowman parked in the corner of your front yard, just a step away from the sidewalk, he and Chanwook thought it would be funny to ruin it.

The thing was ugly and had an even uglier bucket at the top of it's head, perfect to kick around the street!

He didn't think too much about it, if he was honest. Just saw a big lump of snow he wanted to kick at until it collapsed, so that's what Wooyoung did. It was just a silly snowman.

Besides, you were already six years old. Far too old to be making a stupid snowman. You should've been going sledding with the rest of the neighborhood kids on the small hill just a couple of minutes away from your street. Wooyoung was mature now, so his mom allowed him to go without a chaperone this year. You were always so childish, no wonder your mom didn't let you go with them. You cried over everything.

But he didn't expect you to cry over the stupid snowman!

It was just a snowman. It would've melted anyway when the weather got warmer! Or gotten ruined by someone else!

The brief fear of your mom telling Wooyoung's mom about what he'd done struck him. He'd positively get grounded for ruining your dumb snowman if she found out and then the rest of his winter break would be spent inside of the house.

You could always make another snowman. A better one. And since you're such a crybaby, Wooyoung would make sure to tell Chanwook that they won't be touching that one. Leave that ugly snowman alone.

Just so you wouldn't cry anymore.

10 and 12 years old;

"It's a shame your mother is dead, maybe if she was still around she would teach you how to act like a girl!"

Your face flushed in anger as you stared the other boy, Beomseok, his chubby fingers still wrapped around your pencil case which was how the argument started in the first place.

He was in the same class as you and a typical bully. Bigger than the rest of his peers and always using it to his advantage to intimidate and tease them. Today, he took your pencil case and when you asked for him to give it back, he only gave you a gnarly smile and started running around the classroom and eventually out on the halls, screaming taunts at you. It would be a lie to say that you didn't scream some pretty mean stuff back but in your defense, he deserved it.

Now, you both stood as if you're ready to duel as the rest of your classmates and even some upperclassmen gathered to see what the commotion is all about, your fury rising so high that tears spring in your eyes at the mention of your mom as you observe his smug smirk. Obviously, from a very young age, you were bad at managing your anger.

"I hate you!" You scream out, voice high pitched. Then you jump on Beomseok with your full weight, successfully pulling him to the hard hallway floors as your hands curled into tiny fists that started colliding with his face.

And Beomseok, for all his intimidating build, talked an awfully big game just to end up bursting into tears as your fist collided with his nose. He was bad at fighting, you notice, if he could be beat up by a lanky girl almost two times smaller than him.

"I just-" Punch. "-wanted-" Punch. "-my pencil case-" A slap. "-back!"

"Somebody help!" He screams from under you, whining under each attack but his classmates were too busy cheering you on to come to his defense.

Once you start harshly pulling on his hair, two arms wrap themselves under your armpits and pull you off of your classmate. You're standing again and are turned by your shoulders to come face to face with your teacher, screaming at you.

"Is this a proper behavior in school?!" and lots of "Your father will hear about this!"'s and "You're going to the principle's office!" as she started pulling you by your arm down the corridor that was still filled with students.

"Everyone to your classrooms! Now!" Your teacher screams from the top of her lungs as she tugs on you and you follow after her with a frown on your face.

Stupid Beomseok.

Wooyoung's stomach hurts from laughing, clapping Chanwook's shoulder who was almost sitting on the floor due to his own fit of pure glee, as he watches Kim Beomseok roll around the floor in pain, clutching his nose.

There's scratches and bruises already forming on his cheeks, little bit of blood mixed with a lot of big, fat tears. It's hard to feel even slightly bad for Beomseok, when Wooyoung heard how he torments his classmates along with the younger kids during recess. Did it count as bullying if the bully is the one getting bullied?

Maybe he finally got what was coming for him, nobody usually stood up to him and Wooyoung least expected you to be the one to put him in his place.

He deserved it, Wooyoung thinks, after what he said about your mom.

Wooyoung remembers her funeral three years ago, he remembers how much you cried and how you didn't leave your house for a month that summer. He even rung the doorbell to ask if you wanted to come out and play one time which he never did because you were a child and he was much more mature than you, you two had nothing in common. But he felt sad for you.

Your mom was nice, she always brought Wooyoung a chocolate when she'd come for a visit.

Sadly, they discovered she had cancer when you were only seven and Wooyoung was nine. By the time they discovered it, it was already too far along and your mom passed away on a summer evening while you were outside playing hide and seek.

Wooyoung remembers feeling so bad how they always made you the seeker that day because you were the youngest kid in the neighbourhood and far too easy to convince that it was simply always your turn to look for the other kids.

Your dad opened the door, smiling sadly at Wooyoung and saying that you weren't feeling well enough to come out and play. Wooyoung didn't try again after that.

The teacher is pulling you by your elbow through the crowd, yelling at the top of her lungs for everyone to head to their classrooms since class should start in a couple of minutes. You silently follow her, face twisted into an angry grimace.

Your hair has fallen out of your ponytail, long strands sticking to your face and Wooyoung is pretty sure that your shirt got ripped during the brawl.

Wooyoung might've been laughing a bit too loudly because with angry eyes and cheeks flushed, your head whips towards him just as you pass by him.

Wooyoung opens his mouth with a smile, to say something like "Good job, Y/L!" maybe. He doesn't get the chance to.

"What are you laughing at, Jung?" You ask loudly and Wooyoung's laughter immediately dies down.

"Wha-?"

And it's then, that your foot meets Wooyoung's shin in a harsh kick that makes him yowl in pain and makes Chanwook burst into another wave of laughter as his hands grab at Wooyoung who doubles over in pain.

"Y/N!" The teacher screams out again, pulling you back by your shirt and going on another rant, filled with threats of calling your dad to school and something else he can't process at the moment.

Wooyoung is too busy feeling the pain and anger that fills him up as he rubs at the place your sneaker covered foot meet his leg.

"Y/N, you psycho!" He yells after you who is still getting dragged away. You don't even bother to look back at him.

(He still collects your pencil case from the floor and throws it on a desk that a classmate of yours says belongs to you before exiting the classroom and going to his own. Wooyoung tells himself it's for no other reason but just so your dad won't have to buy you a new one. He has enough on his plate already.)

14 and 16 years old;

Wooyoung has a girlfriend.

You don't know why that's something that bothers you so much.

Maybe because you don't understand what a girl could possibly see in Jung Wooyoung to willingly let him hold her hand or...God forbid, kiss her. Ew.

That's a lie, maybe even a bad attempt at coping on your part because there's a general consensus in your high school that Jung Wooyoung is good-looking.

You didn't even think he was ugly when you were younger, when he was pulling on your pigtails and teasing you for playing with dolls. He was cute for an annoying kid back then too with his chubby cheeks and bowl haircut.

He was especially cute now, a recent discovery of yours which you have no one else to thank except puberty. It did wonders on your hormones and it did wonders on Jung Wooyoung too.

His jawline got sharper the more baby fat he lost and lips grew fuller. His boyish smile was very attractive, even his smile lines were captivating. Wooyoung grew taller as well, not by much compared to the other boys in his grade but he was tall just enough so you'd have to look up to him when you argue but not enough to be intimidated by him.

So, yes, you supposed you'd understand the appeal if it weren't for his stupid mouth and mean words more often than not, directed at you. You threw shots back as well, sometimes even started an argument first if you were feeling particularly annoying but maybe that sums up why you're so bothered.

He started dating Chaeyoung at the beginning of this summer and since you have the fortune (read: misfortune) of living in the house right across the street from Wooyoung's, you were an unlucky witness to most of their dates.

And he was so sweet to her. He'd buy her cheap flowers and ice cream, they'd walk around the neighbourhood holding hands, they'd take Wooyoung's younger brother Kyungmin to the playground in the evenings. Wooyoung would smile a lot at her and Chaeyoung would always smile back.

You even saw them kiss. Just once.

When you were folding laundry in your bedroom, you looked through the window just in time to see their lips connect on Wooyoung's front porch. You quickly looked away, feeling shy and embarrassed, not understanding why you were blushing or feeling so sad all of a sudden.

Why was he so nice to other girls but never to you? You shouldn't think too much about it, the problem isn't you. Chaeyoung wasn't just some other girl but his girlfriend. Of course, he'd treat her special.

Whatever. You scoff as you watch Chaeyoung run to Wooyoung across the quad as you adjust your sports bag over your shoulder.

She jumps into his arms and you can hear his loud, annoying laughter even to here as his arms wrap around her and he picks her up from the ground.

"What are you doing?" You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of Ryujin's voice as she nosily tries to follow where you were staring at.

Ryujin was the first friend you met since you started high school two weeks ago. She might be the only friend you have for awhile since you haven't really been trying to even get to know your classmates as you were too busy trying out for the girls football team.

You don't remember when you started actively playing football exactly. You always played it for fun with the boys from the neighbourhood (Wooyoung included) but maybe it was around seventh grade when your dad pestered you into trying out a sport because he didn't know what else to do with you so he packed you up and sent you to a sports camp for two weeks one summer, that you started actually playing.

You went there only caring about your iPad and came back saying you'll be a professional football player.

Your dad doesn't want to say it but you know he thinks it's a fickle dream that will fizzle out with age.

Thankfully, Ryujin shared the same love for the sport as you so for now, you were relieved and content to spend time with her. She was nice.

You didn't need anyone else but maybe it would've been nice if someone who was older, who you were familiar with even if you always fought, would give you a couple of words of useful advice. Regarding the new teachers and subjects and all.

High school was scary.

"Nothing." You answer quickly, turning your back to Wooyoung and his girlfriend and fully facing your new friend.

"Nothing?" Ryujin gives you a suspicious smile, eyes darting over your shoulder once more before she ruffles your hair. You yelp. "Do you have a crush already, Y/N?"

You gently shove her away with a huff, fixing your bangs, "Don't be stupid. These boys are all ugly."

A crush. As if!

She laughs at that, throwing her arm around your shoulder as she directs you both to the field where practice was held, already yapping about her own crush.

"Hey, isn't that your neighbour?" Chaeyoung nudges Wooyoung with her elbow, nodding somewhere behind Wooyoung. He cranes his neck to follow the direction before his eyes land on you.

He snorts, "Yeah."

You were standing in the middle of the football field, sweaty and red in the face from all the running, with your hands on your hips as you paid attention to what your coach was yelling towards your teammates across the field.

The school's jersey seemed far too big on your lanky form and your hair was a mess, always slipping out of your ponytail. You were much smaller in build than the rest of the team and it looked funny to Wooyoung.

He didn't expect you to be into sports, let alone a sport like football. In fact, Wooyoung is surprised that you don't burst into tears when you start arguing with the makeshift referee played by another student. It's what usually happens if you spend longer than a minute arguing with Wooyoung.

And then he ends up being the bad guy for making you cry but no one ever mentions that you sometimes provoke him first as well but can't take it when it's dished right back.

Since you're such a crybaby.

He watches with an amused grin as you bare your teeth at the referee, who is really just a senior that thought it would be a fun time but now he has to stand arguing with you. And to Wooyoung's further amusement, the older boy who is almost two heads taller than you, looks like he's about to shit his pants in front of you.

Hm. Maybe not such a crybaby when it's anyone else but Wooyoung.

"I think she has a crush on you."

He turns to look at his girlfriend with a confused look, growing further confused when she smiles teasingly at him.

"Who?" He asks and she gives him a knowing look before nodding in your direction again. Wooyoung splutters out a surprised laugh, "Y/N?"

"Yeah." She nods excitedly, giggling, "She's cute."

Wooyoung scoffs with an eyeroll, "She's a kid."

A kid who might have a small crush on Wooyoung but still, a kid nonetheless.

He'd be stupid to say he didn't notice that you sometimes stare at him a little too much but what the hell is he supposed to do about that. You just started high school, you probably weren't even aware of what you were doing. It was a childish crush because at the end of the day that's what you are - childish.

Chaeyoung giggles again, the sound is soft and sweet, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"It's kind of sweet." She sighs dreamily and Wooyoung snorts because nothing about you was sweet, "You're her handsome neighbour, the only guy who's always been close to her since she was a kid, she probably starts those childish arguments with you so you'd give her attention and then writes about you in her diary and-"

"Y/N is the last person to have a diary, first of all." Wooyoung interrupts with a snicker before looking down on his girlfriend who is teasing him, "Second of all, you sound ridiculous."

Chaeyoung lifts her head up from where it rested against him and looks at him seriously, her lips pressed together. Then she starts imitating Wooyoung's last sentence in a deeper voice that sounds nothing like him, "You sound ridiculous-ah!"

She squeals when Wooyoung pinches her at the waist lovingly and it turns to tickling her as he presses kisses to her cheeks.

As they continue to exchange kisses between hushed giggles, the conversation about you is forgotten.

18 and 20 years old;

From the moment you opened the door to greet your date, you knew that the whole night would be a complete and utter disaster.

Maybe you watched too many teen movies that romanticized prom night so much that even you ended up believing and looking forward to the glorified fantasy of it but boy, were you in for a rude awakening.

Your prom date was a boy from your Calculus class named Eunwoo.

To be completely honest, you were convinced for the entirety of your senior year that you wouldn't have a date for prom at all because not much has changed since freshman year.

You still had one good friend (two, if you count Ryujin's friend that says she likes hanging out with you) and your focus was always on football. Add schoolwork and keeping up your good grades and you truly didn't have much time left for socializing.

So when Eunwoo pulled you aside after your football practice and asked you if you wanted to go to prom together with a handsome boyish smile on his face, your excitement for that night skyrocketed.

Eunwoo wasn't exactly a friend but he was nice to you during class, maybe you were wrong but his niceness sometimes even bordered flirting. Already, you were daydreaming about a possible boyfriend to spend your last summer with before you start college.

With a date or without one, you spend the bigger portion of your senior year saving up money for prom night or should you say prom preparations.

Makeup was never your strongest suit, in fact, it wasn't a suit of yours at all. You never wore it. You never did your hair either.

Even on the rare occasion that you went to a high school party, you never wore anything else aside from jeans and T-Shirts. You were an athlete and you committed to the bit entirely, always being ready to sweat and opting for comfort of loose clothes above anything else.

But you wanted to look nice for prom, pretty. Not because of Eunwoo but for yourself. Prom is only once and you wanted to make sure you do it with confidence.

All your saved up allowance went on the hair and makeup appointment along with your dress that Ryujin helped you pick out. The dress was quite simple in your opinion, a dark red one with a square neckline held up by two thin straps that clung to your curves and flared out at the bottom.

With your hair pinned up in an up-do with two curled strands framing your face and glitter on your eyelids, you thought you looked very pretty, beautiful even. Hell, it was probably the best you looked in your entire eighteen years of life. You could even put up with the painful heels for the sake of it.

Your dad made you pose over the whole house while you waited for your date to pick you up. First a photoshoot on the stairs, then one on the front porch, then a little in front of the living room fireplace.

He seemed so excited with his camera hanging around his neck as he followed you around the house.

It was one of the moments you wished your mom was here for but nonetheless, it was much fun with your dad only as well. You were happy.

It all went to shit though once you opened the door for Eunwoo and he started laughing in your face.

"Oh my God!" He laughs, almost doubling over at the apparent hilarity of your appearance, "What are you wearing?!"

You laugh nervously, ignoring your father's glance at you from the sheer embarrassment, "What? Is it that bad?"

"No, no." Eunwoo shakes his head, wiping a stray tear that escaped while he was laughing, "It's just not like you, at all."

"Oh." You give him a sour smile, your fragilely built ego shattering completely. "I was just...trying something new I guess..."

He snickers with a headshake before offering you his hand, "Come on, let's go take a photo?"

After a small moment of hesitation, feeling your cheeks burn from the humiliation, you let him grab your hand and step out on the front porch. Eunwoo places a hand around your waist to pull you closer as you both smile at your dad's camera.

A couple of photos later, you both head towards Eunwoo's car as your dad waves you goodbye. You give him a small, almost sad wave back as Eunwoo opens the door for you. You ask him;

"Do I really look funny?"

"No, you look pretty no matter what." He answers, helping you with your dress. "It's just doesn't suit you I guess, it's not like you."

"Ah..." You say staring at the dashboard as you watch him round the car to get into the driver's seat. You glance back at your dad just to see him get back into your house and for a split second, you want to call the whole thing off and go back inside with him.

Of course this doesn't suit you. You were the girl guys dapped up in the hallways, the girl that was always covered in hoodies and sweatpants and never wore makeup. You must look stupid, all dolled up like this. What were you thinking.

Prom celebration is usually held at a hotel not far from your high school. The ballroom is enormous, with vast marble floors and high ceilings illuminated by golden, shimmery lights. It looks straight out a fairytale with colorful dresses worn by pretty princess and handsome princes in their extravagant suits. Only, you don't feel like a princess at all.

Eunwoo and you find your table and you briefly say hi to Ryujin and her date. Ryujin tells you how amazing you look and you give her the first (and possibly, only) genuine smile of the night.

"So," Eunwoo starts the conversation a few minutes after you settle down at your table with drinks, "Did you decide where you're going for college? Any scouts?"

"I'm leaning towards SNU. Their Women's Football Club is really strong and I feel like they actually get proper investments and budget." You tell him and he grins interrupting your next sentence.

"See, this is why I like you. It's hard to find a girl who knows about sports and is so chill about everything."

Your mouth stays parted, the rest of your sentence (which was really just saying that the fact the male football team was hot contributed to your decision as joke) went unsaid as his words registered. Every "compliment" Eunwoo gives you is starting to come off so backhandedly that you're beginning to realize that while he thinks he has you all figured out - he doesn't actually know you at all.

You give him a fake laugh and pray to God it doesn't sound fake enough for him to notice as you take a sip of your drink.

An hour later, your heels are killing you so much that you've completely given up on dancing. You observe Ryujin on the dance floor with her date, still going at it and sigh with the silent question of when it would be your turn. Instead, you're stuck to the sidelines with shoes that feel awful on your feet and a date that can't stop talking about how it's attractive that you're a "girl that actually eats". Eunwoo's compliments are becoming weirder by the second.

"Should I just take you home?" Eunwoo asks with an amused smile as he observes you taking off your heels for the tenth time since you sat back down.

"Ah, would you mind?" You give him an apologetic smile, feeling like a burden and a not-so-much-fun date, "I'm sorry, Eunwoo, this is unfair to you-"

"Nah, I had a fun time." He shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink, "Next time, just be yourself though, yeah?"

The weirdly phrased statement makes you pause. "What do you mean?"

"You know, you don't have to dress like this!" He laughs, playfully playing with the thin strap of your dress. You subtly move away from his touch. "It's not like you at all. I don't know if your friends talked you into it just to fit in but you shouldn't let them push you around like this."

He's so wrong that you can't speak for a moment but even if you could, you feel like trying to explain yourself to him would be far too exhausting and would lead to nowhere. Nor do you want it to lead anywhere anymore, if you were honest.

"Girls like that are so exhausting." He gives a tired sigh. "Outfits and makeup aren't the only thing in the world."

"Girls....like that?"

"You know! Like, the touchy-feely shit. Everything is about color-coordination and nail polishes with them. God forbid their hair is out of place. What a headache!" Eunwoo runs a hand through his hear before giving you an award winning smile. "That's why I'm glad I got to hang out with you! You're real."

"I'm....real?" You ask with a cocked head as your eyes start to narrow. He's too busy thinking that you like what he's saying so he continues.

"Yeah. You know, you keep it real. You're not caught up in that frivolous, girly bullshit. You're so chill, Y/N." He keeps smiling at you like he just gave you the highest form of compliment he possibly could.

But you can't bring yourself to crack a smile even if someone held a barrel of a gun to your temple at the moment. In fact, you feel like throwing up. You should've know from the start, from the moment he was so unreasonably impressed with your lack of makeup at the beginning of the year.

Eunwoo was one of those guys.

"Um," You slide your heels back on and grab your clutch, "You know what, you stay. I'll go."

"Wait, what." His brows raise in half confusion and half surprise as he watches you stand up from your seat.

"Yeah, I'll walk home."

"Wait, Y/N. Why would you walk home? I already said I'd drop you off-"

"No thanks. I don't want to get in a car with a sexist."

"What?!" Eunwoo reels back, "What the fuck are you talking about?! I'm not a sexist! I respect women!"

You huff, turning to him with a glare. "You respect women who are "cool" and "chill" and basically act like men. You should've just taken one of your dudes to prom if these are your opinions. I'm out."

So, that's how you find yourself in your pretty dress sitting in one of the plastic chairs of a convenience store with a popsicle in your mouth as you watch the cars drive by. You were too embarrassed to arrive home so early, you hyped up prom night so much to your dad - you'd rather lie and tell him you had a good time.

If the night couldn't possibly get any shittier, while you eat away at your cherry popsicle feeling undeniably sorry for yourself, you hear a familiar laugh followed by sounds of shoes scuffing against the pavement towards the convenience store.

Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would show up now, when you needed him least.

You try to make yourself seem as small as possible in the plastic chair, hoping he or his two friends wouldn't notice you (which in retrospect was a dumb hope, you were sitting right by the entrance in a fucking prom dress).

Ever since Wooyoung graduated high school two years ago, you only saw him in passing. He'd come home for Christmas holidays or a week or two during the summers and you'd only catch him skunk out of his house and into his dad's car if you were lucky. Unlucky, that is of course.

Maybe you were hoping he wouldn't even recognize you and although it would kind of hurt (as embarrassing as that is to admit), you feel like it would be a better option.

But since you were on a roll tonight, obviously this is just another thing that doesn't go your way.

"Nice dress, Y/L/N." You hear Wooyoung's voice speak, followed by snickers from his idiotic friends and his own attempt at stifling his laughter as they walk past you and into the convenience store, the small bell above the door signaling their entrance.

That ends up being your last straw.

You don't cause another fight or yell something back after him, no, you don't have the energy to do that tonight. Instead, you feel like you will cry.

Tears are already burning at your eyes and your bottom lip wobbles, you're not even aware that your eyes follow Wooyoung through the display of the store, watching him as he picks up a pack of beer and heads for the cashier.

He got even more painfully handsome than he was when you'd see him every day before he graduated. His hair was double toned, the top of it black and the bottom strands bleached, brushing the nape of his neck.

You think you could even see a tattoo peaking under his shirt as he moves.

Jung Wooyoung was so not your type. Not that you really knew what your type was but all the guys that you found cute in your high school years were athletes, jocks who were organized and dedicated to their routine which in your opinion showcased their maturity, got good grades and were respected by their peers. Wooyoung was really the complete opposite of that so it was hard to explain why you so weirdly hung up over his approval.

He's still laughing about something with his friends, it would hurt so badly if it was about you, as his eyes dart through the display and connect with your own.

Wooyoung does a double take before his big smile slowly slips and dare you say, eyes soften as he looks at you and his lips part as if he wants to say something.

It could all be in your head though and you're feeling even worse now that he caught you staring at him like a total creep, so you throw your popsicle in the trash and get up with a sigh, slipping back into your heels and deciding to just go home.

"Hey, Y/L/N! Wait up, I'll give you a ride home!" Wooyoung calls out after you, the plastic bag swinging back and forth in his hand.

He can hear Chanwook's hushed objection which Wooyoung chooses to ignore, instead focused on walking closer to you. You couldn't make it far since you were basically limping in your heels.

"No thanks." Wooyoung hears your response and rolls his eyes. He hasn't spoken to you in the last two years at all but he can see that nothing has changed much - you were still too stubborn for your own good.

You didn't even bother to turn back and look at him, instead you hitch your dress further up and continue up the street and away from the convenience store.

"Y/N, come on. Quit being a brat and just wait for me to bring the car around."

"I said no!" You yell over your shoulder and let out a small yelp when you stutter a bit on your feet. To Wooyoung, you resembled Bambi right now.

"I'm trying to help you!" He yells back, still following you, "Just let me drive you back-"

"Wooyoung, seriously, fuck off!" You turn to face him with red cheeks and teary eyes (maybe that's why he's insisting so badly to drive you home, you simply look pathetic), "I don't need your fucking help!"

Wooyoung reels back at your tone and harsh words and then a wave of embarrassment washes over him when he hears Chanwook and Eunhyuk laugh behind him, at the fact that he just got told off by his little neighbour.

The embarrassment is followed up by anger that prickles at his skin like needles, he scoffs and if there's one thing Wooyoung will be - it's petty; "Fine! Limp home in your stupid heels then, see if I give a shit!"

You don't give him a response and Wooyoung doesn't bother to look for it either, instead turns around on his feet and heads towards his car (his dad's car). But not before telling a laughing Chanwook to shut the fuck up.

But once he's in the car with the keys in the ignition, he stares at the steering wheel in obvious contemplation before letting out a small groan, "Fuck."

Wooyoung turns to Chanwook, "Sit in the back, please."

His friend looks at him in surprise and confusion. "What?"

"Just sit in the back, will you? Please." Wooyoung repeats, avoiding Chanwook's eyes but feeling his stumped stare.

"Wooyoung, you cannot be serious." His friend laughs in disbelief as if reading his mind, looking around before giving Wooyoung another incredulous look, "She just told you to fuck off!"

Eunhyuk is quiet in the back which is a huge relief for Wooyoung, he really didn't need to defend himself to his other friend too.

"I can't let her go by foot in the dark, you've seen her! She can barely walk!" Wooyoung says defensively to both of his friends as Chanwook moves to the back with a huff.

"And that's your problem...how?" Chanwook, like the annoying pest he is, asks.

"It's not...." Wooyoung trails off, trying to look for an excuse as to why he was going out of his way to give you a ride home. "But...but her dad would kill me if he knew I saw her and didn't drive her back. It's only right."

Chanwook smacks his lips obnoxiously loud, "Sure."

Wooyoung doesn't even need to turn around to know that his friend is giving him a very bold side eye right now.

Eunhyuk snorts but doesn't say anything else. Wooyoung is thankful for that at least.

"She probably won't even want to get in the car." Chanwook comments quietly as they reach you on the sidewalk. He ends up being ignored.

Wooyoung rolls the window of the old car down so he can talk to you, he has to say you're walking at an impressively slow pace. "Y/N, get in the car."

He hears you groan dramatically from the outside, "Jung, you're not my dad. Stop telling me what to do."

Wooyoung ignores Chanwook and Eunhyuk's snickers in the back once again, he grows even more irritated, "I'll call your fucking dad right now and tell him you're walking home alone this late. How about that?"

You turn to him with your glossy lips twisted into a scowl, "You wouldn't."

Always ready to prove a point or in this case, lie straight out of his ass, Wooyoung makes a show of stopping his car next to the sidewalk and fishing his phone from the pocket of his jacket before opening up his contacts and beginning to scroll. He doesn't even have your dad's number.

But Wooyoung is a professional bullshitter so he keeps pressing random buttons with a straight face and presses the phone to his ear before turning to you with his brows raised-

"Okay, fine!" You exclaim with an angry huff and start rounding his car as your cheeks flush a pretty pink color. Wait, pretty-? You open the door and angrily plop into the passenger's seat with a glare directed towards him, "Fucking snitch."

Wooyoung ignores you, locking his phone without another word and beginning to drive away.

There's an awkward silence in the car, only sounds being made are those of the plastic bags filled with beer that keep rustling in Eunhyuk's lap.

"This isn't the way to our street." You say and Wooyoung might be crazy but you almost sound a little nervous at that. He glances at you before it dawns onto him. Of course, you'd be feeling nervous.

It's nighttime and you're in a car with three dudes older than you who you don't know that well. Wooyoung didn't even bother telling you about his plan before he started driving. A curse runs through his head before he clears his throat,

"I'll just drop these two off at a party nearby and then drive you home." He murmurs, chest constricting a little when he sees you cross your hands over your chest, a gesture which makes you seem smaller.

"Wait, wha-" Chanwook, gosh he was really pissing Wooyoung off tonight, starts from the backseat. "Woo, I thought you were going too-"

"I will." Wooyoung interrupts him with a clenched jaw as he pulls up to the house where the party is held, "I'll drop Y/N off and then come back, it won't take more than fifteen minutes. Now get out- Wait, give me that bag right there."

Eunhyuk hands him one of the plastic bags and Wooyoung fishes through it and pulls out two blueberry ice creams out of it before giving the bag back to Eunhyuk. Which he bought for himself, of course. Not because he saw your popsicle melting on the pavement or anything.

Chanwook watches with a dropped jaw before huffing, Wooyoung hears him murmur, "Doing it for her dad, my ass-"

"I'll be right back!" Wooyoung announces loudly, far too loudly, and Eunhyuk slams the car door shut so Wooyoung can drive away.

When he pulls away, the silence in the car is almost stifling so Wooyoung offers you the ice cream, "Here."

You look at him like a second head just popped out of his shoulder before looking back through the window and ignoring him completely. Wooyoung lets out a small groan. So stubborn.

"Oh my God, just take it." He says, placing the ice cream on your lap as he continues to drive. He bites back a smile when he sees you stare at the ice cream on your lap for a long second before grasping it and opening the wrapper so you can eat it.

Wooyoung really doesn't know what he's doing right now.

He doesn't know why he bought ice creams for you, he doesn't know why he insisted on getting rid of his friends first before dropping you off home, he has no idea why he keeps glancing at you every couple of seconds from the corner of his eye and he especially doesn't have a clue why he takes the longer route home.

When tomorrow comes and he wakes up hangover from the party and probably in someone else's bed, he'll give himself the same excuse he gave the boys. He wanted to make sure you got home safely because it's the right thing to do. There was nothing else to it.

But in this moment, right now, in the stifling silence and the breeze that flows through the opened window's because the air conditioning isn't working - Wooyoung notices things that he feels embarrassed to notice, or maybe he noticed them before but never allowed himself to appreciate them until tonight.

Like, how nice your bare neck and collarbones look now that your hair is pinned up in soft curls. A thin silver necklace graces your neck. Or how the two curled strands at the front frame your face prettily. Your eyelids are painted with something shimmery which Wooyoung doesn't know the name of and your cheekbones are a soft peach color intentionally placed there beforehand.

Your glossy lips wrap around the ice cream cone and you bite off a huge chunk.

"Why are you staring at me?" Wooyoung can decipher the question even through the mouthful of ice cream as you give him a slight glare.

Because you're pretty. Is what he wants to say, honest and bare, but he obviously can't because you're you and he's Wooyoung. "Because you have ice cream on your nose."

His hands tighten against the steering wheel when he sees you quickly look to the side and wipe at your nose self-consciously. You blush a scarlet red from the embarrassment. Great, now he feels like an asshole.

Wooyoung clears his throat, "Why did you look so sad? Back there, in front of the store."

He has no idea why he's trying to make conversation with you. You two never do that, never did. The closest thing to a conversation between Wooyoung and you would be the arguments you'd have in the middle of the school hallway when he'd tease you for your braces.

Those came off as well, by the way, he can see the pearly white teeth perfectly aligned now as you speak. No longer crooked. Maybe he'd like to see them pulled up in a smile but that's borderline wishful thinking now. You smiling at Wooyoung? Yeah, right.

"No reason." You tell him quietly, slumping in your seat as you continue to eat your ice cream. You sigh with an eyeroll, "Just...prom sucked."

Likely thing to happen.

The key is to go to prom with your expectations so low that you can only go up from there but Wooyoung had an inkling feeling that having low expectations wasn't in your nature.

Besides, you were a jock. He remembers even when you were a freshman, you were already running with the popular crowd without even being aware of it, with the athletes and the cheerleaders. Prom night is sort of a pinnacle of the high school experience for people like you.

Guess it's a bummer that you look like you had a shit time.

He hums, "At the end of the day, it's just another Friday night. Nothing special. So even if it sucked, you'll get over it."

Maybe he wasn't the best at giving advice or comforting people.

You side eye him and he pretends not to see it before you quietly add, "I don't usually spend a year worth of allowance on just another Friday night."

Wooyoung cracks a smile, teasing you being a second nature even if you barely spoke since he graduated, "What? Did you expect a prince charming to sweep you off your feet so you two can dance the night away or something? I didn't know you were into that corny shit, Y/L/N."

He hears you scoff, cheeks still red as you roll your eyes, seriously annoyed, "Whatever. Forget I said anything."

Wooyoung's gives a forced snicker just to annoy you before his smile drops again and his eyes flutter shut for a moment out of pure frustration at his own stupidity, internally cursing himself. If shooting yourself in the foot was a person - it would have Jung Wooyoung's photo and name posted under it.

Why can't you just be nice to her?

The air in the car turns even more awkward and Wooyoung shifts uncomfortably in his seat while you continue to eat your ice cream in silence as you stare through the window.

He slows down in front of your house just when you're finishing your ice cream.

You crumple the wrapper in your hand, place the second ice cream on the dashboard and grab the small bag laying on your lap before grabbing the door handle.

"I hope," Wooyoung starts and when you turn to look at him, he's overcome with a sudden coughing fit which is really just awkwardness and the need to fix whatever the fuck he broke a little even more tonight, "Uh, hope you took some good pictures tonight at least because..."

He trails off, feeling like it was his first time flirting with a girl. Wait, what the fuck. He was not flirting with you. Not even a little bit. Wooyoung was simply trying to pay you a compliment. Simple as that. It doesn't have to be anything more. You don't even need to be friends to pay someone a compliment, in fact, Wooyoung is positive that regular archnemeses complimented each other at least once.

Unfortunately, compliments aren't the norm between the two of you, so whatever nice thing he says feels wrong.

Your brows raise.

"You know," He trails off, scratching the back of his neck in an attempt to seem cool and collected. He nonchalantly adds but his side glances might give him away, fortunately you're too much of a ditz to notice, "You look good."

You stare at him for a long moment, seriously it's so long that he almost changes his mind and adds an insult just so you two would be back in those familiar waters of bickering and teasing each other but then your eyebrows fall back down and a scowl overtakes your features.

"Yeah, right." You mumble and Wooyoung almost feels insulted for some reason but then you continue, "Thanks for the ride."

And then you're out of the car and already moving across your front lawn before Wooyoung can snap out of it and remember to turn the car back on.

19 and 21 years old;

"10 more minutes! Y/L/N stop arguing with that asshole and get back into your position before you're out of the game completely!"

Your coach is red in the face from all the shouting and you know what's good for you, so you keep your mouth shut as you run to your spot, thoroughly ignoring the glare your team's captain shoots at you from your right.

The 'asshole' that your coach is referring to is the referee who didn't count a player from the rival team almost breaking your leg by bulldozing into you - as a foul.

"-stole Eunha's position from her and can't even play properly." You hear a snicker behind you and don't even have to turn to know who it's directed at.

Despite it being only your first semester, you haven't made the greatest impression on your teammates (nor did you try all that much to change that impression).

So for the time being, when there was no rival team, you were the collective enemy in the changing rooms and on the practice field. A freshman who kicked their friend from the spot she had since she started college. A freshman who thought she was better than the rest of her team. A freshman who didn't know how to behave at times. A freshman that made them run extra laps because she was bad at remembering all the new rules at times.

And now, a freshman that was playing badly and fucking up things for the rest of them.

"Y/N!" A hiss from your right is heard and your eyes zero in on your captain, Jihyo, who is staring at you. "Focus."

You swallow harshly and give her a quick now before focusing your gaze to the front.

In high school, you weren't used to losing. You were a winner, it's what you prided yourself in. Failure wasn't an option when it came to football.

But turns out in college, when all the other players are as good as you, winning isn't as easy.

In fact it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Nearing the end of the first half the score sheet is still empty and it annoys all of the players and the fans as well. The weirdest thing is how ball is not even on your team's side of the field most of the time; your defenders did not have a very entertaining start of the game in comparison to defenders from Busan, who already look out of breath from all of the attacks to their side. Not to mention that they keep teaming up on you specifically.

You can’t pinpoint what exactly is wrong and why there was no goal to this point; half of you thinks it’s because you didn’t blend well with the team.

"Run, run, run!" Yeonjin shouts, when Sinb loses the ball and Busan’s midfielders rush to their side.

The spike of adrenaline energizes you and your eyes zero on the ball, running after it. Mina’s figure passes from your left and both of you corner the midfielder, successfully getting the ball to your side. You have it and quickly pass it to Yeonjin, seeing her signal for the ball. You watch her run off when a body collides with your own and the impact is so strong, you lose your balance, falling down.

‘What?’ You ask yourself in disbelief not understanding how you're sprawled across the grass again, slowly standing up. At first you're shell-shocked but now anger fills you to the brim when you see that it's the same girl who intentionally collided with you the first time, watching you with a smug smirk and then you're just ready to fight.

You push back at her and get even angrier when the bitch doesn't fall.

"Are you going to go tattle to mommy?" She asks with a mocking concern and you can’t hear anything; you even forget that you are in the middle of the game because your anger turns your vision red.

With a loud groan, you launch towards her and grab her by the shirt, screaming to her face that 'she's a cunt'. There are hands around you, pulling you away, trapping you and not letting you go even when you try to break free.

Jihyo's face is in front of you and you can't register what she's saying but you can see her turn red from how pissed off she is. Maybe it's better if you're not listening to her, if you can't hear anyone actually...but then-

"Hey, number nine! You better not fucking cry!"

At first, you think the loud yell came from somewhere on the field. You thought another player from the Busan team was talking shit. And then,

"Number nine! Crybaby!"

There's some laughter in the audience and it's then that you realize the voice is shouting from the fucking bleachers.

A teammate is already pulling you in the opposite direction but your eyes are glued to crowd sitting on the sidelines, the annoying voice insistently yelling. Crybaby. Crybaby. Crybaby.

The worst part is that the voice sounds so painfully familiar, you just can't put your finger on it. Who.

You're about to let it go. You're about to be the bigger person and not act like a total brute on the field, just let it go Y/N. But then-

"Hey, hey crybaby!" You stop in your tracks, head whipping to the direction the voice was coming from and eyes coasting over the bleachers. "What kind of hill did you roll down from that you don't even know how to push someone back properly?!"

Finally, you spot it. Him. In a red hoodie, making sure to stand out in the sea of blue. It's no wonder the voice sounded so eerily familiar, you've heard it screaming at you for the majority of your childhood and a good chunk of your teen years.

Because he rolled down the same hill as you with only a street separating you.

When he realizes that you've caught onto him, he gives you that smile. That grin that never led to anything good, pearly white teeth gleaming under the lights of the bleachers as he taunts you.

You blood pressure jumps so, you take a deep breath and....scream;

"Jung Wooyoung!"

#ateez angst #ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung smut #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung scenarios

135 notes · View notes

txtistheloml · 7 months

Note

mean hard (positively toxic(?)) dom yeonjun who loves u sm but hates it when u get jealous because ofc he loves you why are you thinking he could love anyone else the way he loves you. “you think i’m close with ___? yeah well guess what? i dont do this to ____” and then proceeds to rail your brains out

im sorry if this made no sense i literally do not know wjat im saying ugh

im sorry this took like 84883983928 years to answer but i hope i did justice to ur idea !! enjoy babe :3

Jealousy - Choi . YJ

word count: 1.5k-ish (1542)…. warnings: implied fem. reader, afab!reader, petnames (baby, sweetheart), degradation of some sort..? (slut), jealousy if it counts, slight angst if you squint, no protection used (wrap before you tap pookie), lowkey breeding kink bc im obsessed uhh, spanking (like once), edging (once LMAO), my terrible writing ofc, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: im sorry to whoever is called maddie 😭 i just came up with that name randomly ,, also sorry for shit quality if it is haha ,, random moodboard dont attack me pls ik it isnt the best i triedd

to say you hated yeonjun being so close to other girls, wanting to be the only one in his eyes, was an understatement. you absolutely despised it.

and well, this was how you ended up in this particular situation.

sitting on a chair in the corner of yeonjun's office, arms crossed over your chest and lips all pouty as you counted down the time until he clocks off for the day. watching yeonjun type away on his computer while he flirts and giggles with the female coworker, maddie, who sat beside him was an eyesore. he looked your way every couple minutes sending you an assuring smile as he mouths, i'll be off soon.

sure you loved yeonjun and all, but you couldn't help the jealousy that was bubbling in you when you saw him act all sweet and close to maddie, so you decided to 'ignore' him when he pulls on your hand, a sweet smile tugging on his face as he says, "let's go baby." as soon as you stood up from the chair, you let go of his hand and silently trailed behind him, not a single word being heard from you.

silence hung in the air as you both got into the car, and your unusual silence doesn't go unnoticed by yeonjun since you were always so energetic and bubbly, but he thought lightly of it and decided to simply shrug it off, thinking that maybe you were just tired.

"how was your day baby?" "fine." "are you hungry yet?" "no."

seeing that you were speaking to him so dryly, he made the sensible choice of not poking his nose into it further and decides to shut up as he thought about what he could have possibly done to piss you off recently the rest of the drive home.

"okay what's going on? you have not said shit to me since we left the company. your're genuinely scaring me sweetheart.. tell me what's wrong, please?" yeonjun tries to reason as he shuts the door to your room, putting down his bag and undoing his tie.

"you should know fucking well what you did choi yeonjun. and this isn't the first time either." you snap out of annoyance, "if you want to be all close and flirty with maddie, you might as well go make her your girlfriend instead"

"you cannot be serious right now y/n." he states with a scoff, "you know how much i hate it when you get jealous. i've told you before, she's just a colleague y/n. you know you're the only one i see sweetheart, i only love you, no one else i swear."

despite yeonjun being so sweet, you still wanted to prove your point of being jealous. "well as far as i know, colleagues don't flirt and giggle all the time yeonjun, especially when she knows fairly well you are dating me. and it definitely seems like you're closer to her than me you know."

"you think i'm close with maddie? yeah well guess what? i don't do this to her."

that was the last thing you heard from yeonjun before he's grabbing your face so hard you'd think it would leave a bruise and crashing his lips onto yours. the kiss was hot and messy and as much as you liked it, you didn't want to give in yet. trying to push yourself away from him as you push against his chest but unsurprisingly, he doesn't let you get away.

he threads his hand through your hair and suddenly he's pulling your head back by your hair, deepening the kiss. you yelp from surprise but yeonjun is unfazed as he continues pulling you into him, almost as if he wants to merge the two of you into one. he pulls away only to catch his breath but his hands don't stop.

he practically yanks your clothes off as he roughly shoves you in the direction of the bed, ordering you to do as he says. "face down ass up sweetheart, i believe your dick-filled brain knows what's better for you right?" you had no choice but to listen to him, knowing if you didn't, punishments that you'd rather not reminisce about.

although you couldn't see what he was doing, you could hear the clinking of his belt followed by the thud of it on the floor, you guessed he was ridding of his clothes. you felt a heavy weight push down on the bed as it crawls towards you before you were left with the stinging pain of yeonjun's palm on your ass.

you let out a small shriek before his hands were smoothing over the soft flesh of your ass, almost as if he was trying to soothe the pain. you braced yourself for another strike, thinking he was going to spank you again but you felt his hands glide downwards, over your already dripping pussy.

you moaned out as his fingertips circles your clit agonisingly slowly, and he's whispering into your ear, "need me to remind you of who this dick belongs to, sweetheart?" the thoughts of you wanting to prove your point being long gone, you nodded furiously as all you could think about was yeonjun's dick. but honestly, who wouldn't?

"such a slut tsk. my pretty slut hm?" "yes! all yours yeonjun, please. m' all yours." barely able to think straight, that came out more as a squeak than you intended but that was the least of your worries as you feel yeonjun prodding at your entrance.

yeonjun wanted to have a little mercy on you at least, deciding to stop after pushing in halfway as he knew sometimes you struggled to take him, but he couldn't stop, your warm gummy walls sucking him in so greedily. hissing softly at how tight you felt around him, he grips onto the plush of your hips and starts fucking into you like some starved animal.

hearing you moan and mumble something along the lines of feeling so full, he can't help but let out a laugh as he pounds into you faster, one hand gripping onto your hips as another hand slipped under to rub at your clit just the way he knows you like it.

"my slut is always so greedy for my dick, fuck- you feel so good, so tight and warm" he coos at you almost teasingly, "maddie doesn't get this from m-me y'know, hmmph- you're the only one that gets this from me. i don't f-fucking like it when you get jealous, you are the only one i love y/n."

your moans and cries were only spurring yeonjun on more, as his hips stutter for a split second as to how good you were making him feel. a slightly louder whine ripped from your throat when you felt him hit that one sweet spot inside you. he tried to angle his thrusts to hit your sweet spot over and over again, his hand on your clit never stopping as he inches you closer to your orgasm.

you were practically crying out to him saying that you were so so close along with strings of indecipherable sentences. he brought you dangerously close to the edge before completely stilling his movements, causing you to moan frustratedly as you try to buck your hips backwards to get some friction as you felt your climax dwindling away. yeonjun took a deep, shaky breath as he tried to calm himself a little, since he was also so close to cumming earlier.

choked sobs of protest were sounded by you, "i was so close yeonjun, so so close. why did you have to stop-" but was cut short as yeonjun's hips met yours again frantically, wanting to chase his own high too. shamelessly loud wails of yeonjun's name was repeated by you, again and again as the familiar feeling appears in your tummy again.

your knuckles turning slightly white as you grip onto the pillow for your dear life as yeonjun pounds into you faster (if that was even possible). the knot in your tummy tightens more and more by the second and a mixture of screams and moans of yeonjunyeonjunyeonjun were ripped from you as you ride through possibly the best orgasm of your life.

shuddering from the intensity of it, that was all it took to trigger yeonjun's own high, burying himself as deep as he could with a few last thrusts before he cums and fills you up to the brim.

after a few moments, he gently pulls out, wincing slightly from the sensitivity, as he turns you around and plops himself onto you, breathing in your scent even though you probably didn't smell the best at that moment. you guys didn't give a care in the world about the humid sticky feeling from the sweat that had gathered on your bodies.

you kind of felt silly for feeling arrogant about the fact that you were the one being filled up with yeonjun's babies, not maddie being in your place, but who's judging? its probably just your braincells malfunctioning after that godsent orgasm.

safe to say that was not the last time you got jealous of maddie and your neighbours would probably know yeonjun's name by now LOL

taglist: @huckleberrykai (send an ask if uw to be added ,, make sure to specify sfw or nsfw!)

feedback along with likes and reblogs are always appreciated !!

#yeonjun fics #yeonjun smut #txt fic #txt smut #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #evelyn answers #evelyn’s works ⭐️

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wholoveseggs · 3 months

Text

Indulgences

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

Part One

Elijah's red door is cracked open and his heart broken, so naturally Klaus takes him to a strip club to cheer him up.

~♡♡ This is part one of a series I've been writing inspired by a @klausysworld post about Elijah being in a pretty woman-esque scenario ♡♡~

3k words - Warnings: light smut, red door elijah {my interpretation of him}, drug use, adult themes, domestic abuse, violence, blood drinking.

{Part Two} {Part Three} {Part Four}{Moodboard->}

"Laadiieess! Two whales just walked in!" Stacy announced, her heels clicking on the marble floor as she rushed into the dressing room. You were applying a new layer of lipstick in the mirror when you caught her eyes in the reflection.

"Who are they? Any hot ones?" You asked, spinning around to face her. She smirked, her eyebrows arching up.

"Oh yeah, they are brothers; I overheard Mitch talking to them out there. They're filthy rich and super hot. I heard their last name, uh, Mikaelson. That sounds familiar, don't it?" Stacy replied, adjusting her breasts in the mirror.

"I've heard other clients talk about them; they are gangsters or something. Powerful ones, like mafia-type shit," Tonya chimed in from her relaxed position in a chair, looking at her phone, her long legs gracefully draped over the arm, stiletto heels pointed in the air.

"Ooh, really? Sounds intriguing." You hummed, glancing at yourself in the mirror again. You adjusted your strapless corset, smoothed out your black lace panties, and straightened your black thigh-high stockings secured by a garter belt. Your boyfriend Jordan had bought you the lingerie; he told you the outfit would make more clients want to buy lap dances from you.

"They booked the platinum suite for the whole night; that's ten grand right there," Stacy revealed with an excited gleam in her eyes.

"Damn, it's been months since we had clients who could afford that kind of luxury," Tonya replied, a smirk playing on her lips.

"They want a private show and a lot of drinks." Stacy added; you could tell she was excited. She loved big spenders, especially the ones who gave big tips.

"Alright, I'll take them; I could use the cash." You chimed in, smoothing down your hair and checking your makeup one more time.

"Just hold on a minute; this isn't some regular party. Mitch is coming by to pick, so sit tight, sweetie." Stacy warned, her eyes narrowing at you. You frowned, Stacy was always acting like the boss, even though she was just a dancer like you.

More girls came filing into the change room, the news of the two hot, rich clients spread rapidly through the club's grapevine. They were all whispering among themselves, gossiping about the clients.

"I heard that they run this town and can have anyone killed, like snap their fingers and a dead body would appear the next day," whispered a younger girl named Tiffany.

"You know that bigwig Marcel? He's like their right hand; he does anything they tell him to," replied another girl named Samantha, tall and blonde.

"So, are they, like, dangerous?" Tiffany asked.

"Of course not, don't worry, doll. If they are, I'll protect you,” Tonya cooed, wrapping an arm around Tiffany's shoulder.

"That's if Mitch picks you, which is unlikely; he wants the best of the best for them. You know, ones with discretion," Stacy said with a laugh as she reapplied her mascara.

"Fuck you, Stacy," Tonya snapped, rolling her eyes.

A few minutes later, Mitch arrived in the change room. He was the owner of the strip club, a sleazy man who always wore a suit and had a cigar hanging from his mouth. He eyed the girls up and down, a sick grin spreading on his face. He enjoyed the power he had over the girls, being able to choose which one got the private clients. He knew how badly they all needed the cash.

"Alright, ladies, I'm sure you all heard the good news. We have a couple of VIP clients here tonight. You know the drill, line up," Mitch said, gesturing to the lineup spot in the back of the dressing room.

You all stood in line, a mixture of nerves and excitement swirling inside you. Clients like this could net you a ton of cash, and a ton of cash meant your rent paid, groceries on your table, and perhaps even a bit left over for some pills. You felt yourself growing nervous as you watched Mitch eyeing the girls. You already owed Jordan a ton of money for some drugs; he had been threatening you recently, telling you he would kick you out of the apartment if you didn't get him the cash. You needed a client like this, and the sooner, the better.

You watched as Mitch walked up and down the line of girls, taking a sip from his glass of scotch every now and then. He looked over each girl, sizing them up, picking at someone's outfit, hair, or makeup, shaking his head or sighing before moving on to the next.

"Come on, Mitch, stop playing us like this," Stacy groaned, rolling her eyes. Mitch chuckled.

"Shut it, or I won't pick you, and they are big tippers," he threatened. Stacy scowled, her eyes narrowing, but she fell silent.

Finally, Mitch reached the end of the line and paused; his eyes landed on you. His smile widened, and his eyes lit up.

"Yes, you'll do just fine," he hummed. He reached out and patted your butt, causing you to flinch.

"Alright, Stacy, Tonya, and Y/N, go to the platinum room and take care of the boys. They have requested privacy, so no interruptions, got it? And I want them happy, you get me?" Mitch added, looking at you with lust-filled eyes.

"Of course," Stacy replied, smirking. Tonya smiled and nodded her head.

"Good, go out there and get them drunk," Mitch instructed.

As you and the other girls prepared to head to the platinum room, the door creaked open, and Jordan sauntered in with an air of confidence. He was wearing nice clothes and smelled like cologne. A wide grin spread across his face as his eyes scanned the room, taking in the half-naked girls. He whistled, making a few girls giggle.

"Look at my pretty girls, all dressed up and ready to dance for some filthy rich clients. I'm jealous." He chuckled, running a hand through his slicked-back hair.

"Oh, you're jealous, baby? Don't worry, I'll save some dances for you later," you cooed, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He smiled and pressed a kiss to your lips, his hand on your ass.

"I brought something to help you girls relax," he said, holding up a small baggy of pills, you're drug of choice when you danced, molly.

"Ooh, thank you, babe," you said, kissing him again before taking a pill and dry swallowing it. The other girls came over and took a pill, giggling and thanking Jordan.

"You're the best, Jordy," Stacy purred, rubbing his arm and giving him a seductive smile.

"Anything for my favorite girls," he replied, winking at her.

"Alright, now get up there and earn me some money," he said, giving your butt a light smack.

You walked out of the change room and followed the girls down the hall, towards the platinum suite. The blaring music and vibrating bass filled the air, making your heart beat fast and palms sweaty. In the dim lights and smoke, you could see the writhing bodies of the other girls dancing on the stages and in the cages, and the cheering of the male audience as they waved dollar bills in the air.

"Alright, let's do this," Tonya hummed, reaching out and opening the door.

The room was dark, illuminated by blue and purple lights casting a soft glow. Leather couches lined the walls, a circular platform with a pole stood in the middle and a small bar was in the corner. A low beat played in the background. The two VIPs sat on the couch, their features partially obscured.

"Welcome, ladies," an accented voice hummed as the door shut behind you, and you could feel his eyes on you.

"Hi, boys, my name is Stacy, and this is Tonya, and Y/N," Stacy purred, stepping towards them. You watched her hips sway as she moved.

Despite sharing some features, they didn't look much like brothers. Both incredibly handsome, the one who spoke had curly blonde hair and a cocky smirk, while the other had darker hair with a brooding look on his face.

"Hello, gorgeous," The blonde one hummed, his voice smooth, there was something about them that seemed inherently dangerous.

"What can we get you boys? Drinks?" Tonya asked, taking a seat next to the blonde one as Stacy took to the stage.

The three of you had a simple but effective routine, with one dancing while the others entertained the clients. It was a tried and tested method, one you had used many times. Your job was less about seduction and more about understanding what the clients wanted. Some wanted a sexy show, others wanted to chat, and some wanted a more personal experience. You had learned how to read people, knowing which ones were the best tippers and which ones to stay away from.

"Bring me a bottle of your best scotch, and glasses for us, love," the blonde one said, his smirk widening.

"Absolutely, handsome. Anything for you, darling?" Tonya replied, looking at the brooding one.

"Whatever my brother is having will be fine, thank you," he replied, his tone polite.

Tonya's eyes darted from the blonde one to you, signaling that she wanted to approach the blonde one. Which was fine with you; the shy brooding ones were your specialty.

"I'll be right back," Tonya hummed as she stood up and walked over to the bar, where she grabbed a bottle and some glasses.

You moved to the brooding one, sitting down next to him. You could see the muscles under his suit and the sharpness of his jaw.

"And what's your name?" You purred, putting on your seductive persona.

"Elijah," he replied, his dark eyes roaming over you.

"Nice to meet you, Elijah, I'm Y/N," you said, offering him your hand. He took it and brought it up to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.

"Lovely to meet you, Y/N," Elijah murmured, a small smile gracing his face.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you smiled back. Something about Elijah made you feel drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. You couldn't deny that he was incredibly handsome. As the song changed, you felt the familiar buzz of the drugs flowing through your veins, making your body tingle. You looked over at Tonya, who was giving the blonde one a lap dance. She made eye contact with you and winked, signaling for you to keep the conversation going.

"This would be more fun if you took off your suit jacket, hm?" You suggested, reaching out and playing with the buttons.

"I'll leave it on for now," he said softly, his eyes darkening as he watched you touch him.

"Don't mind him; my brother isn't the biggest fan of these types of places, and he's a bit broken-hearted," the blonde one said, chuckling as he looked over at Elijah.

"Klaus," Elijah hissed, his eyes narrowing. Klaus chuckled again.

"Who broke your heart, handsome?" You purred, scooting closer to him.

"His girl married someone else," Klaus chimed in before downing his scotch.

Elijah scowled, his jaw clenching, before he looked at you.

"I'd rather not talk about it," he muttered, his eyes darting away.

"That's okay; we don't have to talk at all," You hummed, moving onto his lap, straddling him. You could feel the bulge in his pants, and you smirked. He wasn't unaffected by you, no matter how cold he seemed. Elijah's breath hitched, and his eyes widened. He was tense under you, but he didn't try to move away.

You could hear Klaus chuckling in the background, clearly amused by the situation. He had his hands all over Tonya, whispering in her ear as she grinded on him.

You ran your hands down Elijah's chest, your fingers toying with the buttons on his shirt.

"What would you like to do, handsome? We can talk, or I can dance, or we could do other things," you hummed, your voice soft.

Elijah's gaze darkened, his eyes flickering down to your breasts before they darted back up to your face.

"You can dance," he murmured, his voice thick.

You smirked, knowing exactly how to work with the shy ones, to give them what they wanted without them having to admit it.

"Sure thing, handsome," you hummed, climbing off of him. You stepped onto the stage, and Stacy moved away, grabbing her drink from the side of the platform. She winked at you and gestured to the pole before taking a seat next to Klaus. Elijah's eyes were on you, the dim light reflecting in his dark irises. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were gripping the leather couch. You smirked as you wrapped your hand around the cool metal pole, feeling it under your palm. You felt the molly pulsing through your veins and you started to move, your body moving fluidly and sensually, your muscles tensing and flexing. You could feel Elijah's gaze on you, his eyes roaming over your body. You turned your head and made eye contact with him, giving him a coy smile.

"Do you like what you see?" You teased, biting your lower lip. Elijah's eyes flickered up to yours, his gaze intense.

"Yes, you are very beautiful," he replied, his voice low. Your heart fluttered, and you smiled. You usually didn't care what a client thought of you, but there was something about Elijah that made you want to please him. You continued to dance, the song changing, and the bass pounding in your ears. Klaus was enjoying his time with Tonya, who had removed her bra, her breasts inches from his face. Stacy was chatting with him, laughing and touching his arm. The three of you were experts at reading the room; Klaus was clearly the type who liked his girls all over him, while Elijah seemed like the type who liked to watch. So the three of you adjusted, keeping up with their preferences. You kept your attention focused on Elijah; his gaze was intense, his eyes tracking your every move.

You danced for the next hour, the men enjoying the show. Klaus was clearly drunk and was all over Stacy and Tonya, whispering in their ears and touching them. They were laughing and playing along, hundred-dollar bills tucked into their g-strings. Elijah removed his suit jacket, the room becoming too warm for him. Your eyes roamed his body, enjoying the way his shirt stretched over his muscles.

"I'm glad to see you are relaxing, brother," Klaus hummed, his smirk widening.

You stepped off the stage and walked towards Elijah, sitting back down in his lap. You unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side. His eyes darted down to your breasts, and you saw his jaw clench. You smirked, leaning forward and pressing yourself against his chest. He inhaled sharply, his hands moving to your waist. You took his hands and brought them up to your breasts, encouraging him to touch you.

"You can touch me, handsome. You have my permission," you whispered, a mischievous glint in your eye. Elijah's breath hitched, and his hands hesitantly caressed your breasts.

"They're soft," he breathed, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

"I'm glad you like them," you murmured, smiling.

"Are you enjoying yourself, brother? Having a good time?" Klaus asked, his voice teasing. Stacy was slowly grinding on his lap, his hands gripping her ass.

"Mmhmm," Elijah hummed, his eyes not leaving your chest. You giggled, pressing a kiss to his neck. You could feel his pulse quickening under your lips.

"I'm glad," Klaus replied, his eyes meeting yours. There was a darkness in his gaze, something that made your heart skip a beat.

"I think he's enjoying himself, don't you?" Tonya purred, a smirk on her face as she watched the scene unfold.

"Oh, yes, I think he is," Stacy agreed.

"You should kiss me, Elijah," you hummed, cupping his cheek and leaning in. He hesitated, his eyes wide, his heart racing.

"Go on, brother. Kiss the girl," Klaus urged, his tone playful. Elijah's brow furrowed, but he didn't argue. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. His kiss was gentle, tentative, his hands cupping your face.

"You can kiss me harder; I won't break," you breathed, pressing your lips against his.

"You could," he replied, and something about his tone made you wonder what he meant. There was a deep sadness in his eyes, a loneliness that resonated with you.

He kissed you again, his hands sliding down your back, pulling you close, his hands exploring your body, touching your bare skin. He was a fantastic kisser, his lips moving against yours, his tongue invading your mouth. You've had hot clients before, ones that smell nice and feel good, but this was different. There was an energy between you and Elijah that made you ache for more.

You heard a strange sound coming from the direction of the others, and you pulled back, looking over. Your eyes widened, your heart stopping. Stacy was unconscious in Klaus' arms, his mouth was on her neck, his teeth sinking into her skin. Tonya was on the floor, blood trickling down her neck, staining the white marble floor.

Fear flooded your veins, and you began to scream, but Elijah covered your mouth with his hand, silencing you. You struggled against him, terror coursing through your body. He was strong, too strong, his arms wrapping around you, holding you still.

"Relax, sweetheart; you are safe with me. My brother is just a tad greedy," Elijah's voice was calm and soothing. His eyes were locked onto yours, and you felt your fear instantly dissolve. It left you feeling strange, like you were in some sort of trance. You couldn't move, couldn't speak; all you could do was stare into Elijah's deep brown eyes and feel the warmth radiating from his body.

"There, now, isn't that better?" Elijah's voice was hypnotic, lulling you into a peaceful state. You nodded, a small smile on your face.

"Good, that's good," he murmured, a pleased expression on his face. You could still see Stacy and Tonya in your peripheral vision, their bodies motionless, blood pooling on the floor. You knew you should scream, run, call security—anything. But all you could do was sit there, a serene look on your face, Elijah's voice echoing in your mind.

"Such a lovely creature, you are," Elijah's voice was smooth and hypnotic, his hands caressing your skin. His shyness was completely gone, replaced with a calm, confident demeanor. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles, a gesture that sent strange butterflies through your stomach.

"May I?" Elijah's voice was gentle as he brought his lips to your wrist. You didn't understand what he was asking, but you nodded anyway, the words trapped in your throat. Elijah smiled, a genuine smile, and his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your wrist. He looked up at you, his dark eyes capturing yours, and his teeth pierced your flesh.

It wasn't painful; it felt like a gentle sting, and then a warm, pleasant sensation spread through your body. You were transfixed by his face, his eyes turned completely black, and gray veins appeared underneath his eyes. Elijah's lips were soft, and his tongue was warm as he licked the blood from your wrist, his fangs gently scraping your skin. It was strangely erotic; his movements were sensual, his lips sucking on your skin, drawing more blood from the wound. He pulled back, a drop of crimson liquid falling from his lips.

"Interesting," he murmured, his eyes turning back to normal. "What drugs have you done? I can taste it," he asked, licking his lips.

"Uh, a little ecstasy," you replied, your voice soft and dreamy. He chuckled, and his lips found their way to your neck. His tongue traced the artery, his teeth ghosting over your skin. You shivered, your hands finding their way to his hair, your fingers tangling in the dark strands.

"You're not a gangster, are you?" you breathed, the words tumbling from your lips.

"No, darling, I'm not," he chuckled, his breath warm against your neck.

"Are Tonya and Stacy dead?" you asked, your voice trembling.

"No, they will be fine, and they will be well compensated," Elijah replied, his voice soft and reassuring. "And so will you," he added, his hand gently tracing the lines of your face. You could see Klaus finishing up with Stacy, licking her wounds. He bit his own wrist and poured his blood into his glass, then into the mouths of both women. He smirked, satisfied with himself, and you watched as the bite marks on them healed.

"I don't understand," you said, confused.

"We aren't gangsters, darling; we are something far worse," Elijah said, his lips finding yours again. He kissed you, his lips gentle and warm, his hands caressing your body. He bit down on his own lip, drawing blood, his tongue sliding into your mouth. You tasted the metallic tang of his blood, and you found yourself moaning. He pulled away, his lips curled into a smirk, and his eyes dark.

"W-what are you?" you whispered, fear and desire mingling in your heart.

"It doesn't matter; you will forget all this soon enough," he said, his tone soothing.

"You certainly like that one," Klaus hummed, watching as Elijah gently kissed you again.

"I have an affinity for lost causes," Elijah replied, a soft smile on his face.

You found yourself back in the dressing room, looking down at multiple neat stacks of one-hundred-dollar bills. You couldn't remember when you received the money; all you could recall was Elijah's warm brown eyes.

Tonya and Stacy were sitting next to you, the two of them counting the money, giddy as they recounted the events.

"Twenty thousand each, can you believe it?" Stacy asked, her eyes wide.

"We didn't even have to sleep with them," Tonya added, grinning.

"Classy gentlemen they were, didn't try anything," Stacy continued, a dreamy look in her eye.

"Elijah was sweet, shy, but sweet," Tonya hummed.

"And Klaus was so charming," Stacy giggled.

"How much did you make?" Tonya asked, nudging you.

"I'm not sure; I was kind of out of it," you replied, shrugging.

"I'm tired too, I was having so much fun with them I totally lost track of time," Stacy said, yawning.

You looked down at the cash, your fingers grazing the crisp bills. You couldn't remember the last time you'd had this much money, and you could tell the other girls were struggling with the same thought.

"Just a few hours of pouring drinks and a lap dance, and now I can buy a new car," Stacy mused, a contented smile on her face.

"A new outfit, new shoes, fuck a new wardrobe!" Tonya chimed in, a gleam in her eyes.

You counted your money, thirty thousand dollars. You usually earned that much in six months, if you were lucky. You had no idea why the two men had given you so much money, and you didn't want to know.

{Part Two} {Part Three} {Part Four}{Moodboard->}

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