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#guys it’s been hours and I’m still not over this concert
cas-poisoning · 2 months
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I saw the second full performance of Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying EVER 😭
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stinkrascal · 2 years
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the concert was soooooo fun but im not gonna lie im so happy to be home with my sims :’)
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#the concert was on saturday!!! it was SOOOOOOOOOOO FUN#we spent the night at my bfs parents house afterwards so we spent the day with them yesterday! it was nice to see them again#the drive from our house to new orleans is like three hours so it was easier to go back to his parents house instead of going home#since they only live about an hour and a half from nola. and they said we're always welcome to come over :D theyre so sweet#we didnt leave their house until like 9:30pm lol theyre so sweet i love them#they always send us home with so much food and toilet paper 😭#my bf’s mom is my bestie#the concert on saturday was sooooooooo much fun u guys i had a BLAST and i got very drunk lol#we saw suicideboys live they are soooo good live. nola is their hometown so the show was super energetic#y’all i lost my whole voice it still hurts 😭#my little brother was there too lol#when he discovered that we listen to suicideboys he said ‘really?? but you’re old’ 😭😭😭 HATE HIM#he’s literally 3 years younger than me like stfu i’m not OLD >:(#i got a video of my little brother and my boyfriend in the mosh pit together it was really cute#THERE WERE SO MANY CUTE ALT GIRLS AHHHHHH im so sad. i wish i was a cute alt person#its hard having no sense of fashion among many cute girls ;( but the crowd was super nice everyone was so happy to be there#big concerts are so fun omg. ive never been to a big concert before so i was pretty nervous to attend but it was amazing!!!#they played our favorite songs during the set too :')) SOOOO FUN#but im very happy to be home I MISS FRANKIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
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matchingbatbites · 2 months
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somehow we're here
Explicit | 6.5k | Modern AU | Full Tags + Read on Ao3
Steve only downloaded the app because he was drunk. 
At least, that’s what he’ll tell himself in the morning, once he’s back in the light of day and not half-gone on a few fruity cocktails and multiple shots of tequila - at least three, though it’s realistically more like five or six. Nevermind that he’s been home for almost an hour at this point, is only still awake because of the vague nausea still rolling in his stomach. 
It had been incredibly easy to set up an account, even in his drunken state - something he thinks might be a feature and not a bug - and he’s been scrolling on it for about ten minutes when he realizes-
He’s still bored.
Because that had been the real reason, hadn’t it?
Steve is bored. Bored of first dates that seem to go nowhere, of relationships that seem to fizzle out after a few weeks, and for whatever reason, Tequila Steve seems convinced that a gay dating app would be a fun thing to sign up for. It’s not like he has anything to lose, he’s just bored and kind of horny and definitely not lonely and desperate.
So Steve flips through profiles, taking in photos of the same waifish boys and beefy gym bros. He’s just about ready to give up and try to sleep through the nausea, when he stumbles across a profile that makes him stop cold. 
The photo looks like it’s from a concert or something; the guy is on a stage, clearly mid-show, with a wicked looking guitar in his hands. Steve’s eyes get caught on those hands, the veins and the painted nails and the chunky, silver rings. 
His hair is a riot of dark curls haloed by the stage lights, and Steve regrets that he isn’t able to see the man’s face. He focuses instead on his clothes, the black t-shirt and ripped jeans, his exposed forearms littered with black ink. 
The photo is so honest. It’s pure, simple emotion and Steve is instantly drawn in, eager to know more about this person.
The next photo is closer, clearly cropped down from a larger picture, and Steve gets his first good look at the man’s beautiful face. Deep, chocolate eyes that house a delighted sparkle, a blinding smile that sets loose a swarm of butterflies in Steve’s stomach. Not to mention the piercings; two just below his lower lip and another through his eyebrow - Steve briefly wonders if he has more, maybe his tongue or his nipples - fuck, that would be so hot.
In the last photo the man is seated on a couch, holding an acoustic guitar this time, and he seems focused on whatever he’s playing, clearly unaware of the camera-person at all. Those brown curls are pulled into an updo, revealing ears littered with even more silver jewelry, and there’s a cute little crinkle between his brows that Steve wants to smooth out with his thumb.
Steve scrolls down to actually read the guy’s profile, and sees that his name is Eddie. He’s 27 and local to the area, he likes metal music and D&D, and he definitely seems to check a lot of Steve’s boxes. Nerdy? Yeah. Hot? Fuck yeah. Confident? If the concert photo is anything to go by, this man has confidence coming out his ass. So yeah, check there too. 
He adds the guy without hesitation, and will once again blame Tequila Steve for what’s next once he’s sober. He sends Eddie a message.
‘Hi, i’m straight, i literally just got this app cause im kinda bord and kinda drunk. But you’re actually my type. Can I be honest?’
Steve doesn’t really expect an immediate response, considering that it’s two in the morning and all, so he decides to flip over to a different app, already knowing that he isn’t really going to care about anyone else he might come across. He’s surprised when only a couple of minutes later, he gets back a simple ‘Sure lmao’, and scrambles to flip back over to the messenger.
‘I didint think i’d message anyone on here but your cute and hnestly i geuss i kinda like that you won’t get pregnant.’
He decides to wait this time, to see if he’ll get another quick response, and he holds his breath when the typing indicator pops up, only to disappear again. It does this a couple of times, like Eddie is writing and pausing, or erasing and starting over, and Steve just waits, so curious to know what the other man is going to say.
‘Are you free tomorrow? I need to know if you’re as adorably endearing when you’re sober.’
Steve gasps in delight. Eddie wants to meet him! He kicks his feet a little in excitement and messages back ‘I can be as endering as you want me to be baby.’ It takes him a second to realize he hadn’t actually answered Eddie’s question, and he sends a follow up ‘Yes i am free tomorow.’
‘Meet me at Hank’s on 6th? 7pm?’
He confirms the time and place, and even as giddy as he is, Steve’s barely able to exchange a few more messages before he’s out like a light.
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Steve wakes up the next morning with a headache. It’s nowhere near the level of one of his migraines, but it’s enough to be annoying as he gets up and starts his day. He’s thankful it’s Saturday, that all he really has to worry about are some errands and brunch with Robin.
A quick shower and a cup of coffee has him feeling more alive, but meeting up with Robin makes him feel better than anything else could. She looks about as bad as he does, which is interesting considering that she didn’t even come with him to the club last night. 
They chatter on for a while, with Steve letting her rant again about the situation she finds herself in (she refuses to drop Vickie even though the girl bounces between her on-again-off-again boyfriend and Robin like a fucking ping pong ball, and she also refuses to admit her growing feelings for Chrissy, her roommate turned friend with benefits. It’s a whole mess.)
She asks about his own dating life, and he honestly has nothing new to report. He’d gone out last night intending to at least find someone to take home, but once he actually got into the scene, the effort just didn’t seem worth it for a temporary fix. 
Instead he drank, and he danced with strangers until the room started to spin, and then he made his way home. He’d had fun, even though he'd ended his night alone. Robin hums and pours another drink from the pitcher between them - White Peach Sangria this week, and it’s good, though Steve prefers the Bloody Mary they had last time. 
“We're kind of pathetic, huh?”
“I mean, you are,” Steve replies, and shrugs when she gives an affronted Hey! “I might be single, but you're the one who's letting a great girl slip through your fingers because you can’t say no to your fickle ex.”
“She’s not fickle-”
“Where was she last night?” Steve asks, staring Robin down until she says “With me.”
“Mhm. And where is she now?”
Robin frowns hard and grumbles “With Jack.” 
Steve gives her a look, and she sinks down a little in her seat. 
“You know, sometimes I forget that you were friends with the mean girls in high school, and then you hit me with that fucking Carol Perkins face and it all comes flooding back,” she says, and Steve rolls his eyes. 
“Stop being a drama queen, and stop waiting for Vickie to change her mind about Jack. It’s not fair for her to come running to you every time they have a fight if she has no intention of actually leaving him for you. You deserve better, Rob.”
Robin groans and drains the last of her glass. “When did you get so wise and shit?”
“Fuck you,” Steve says, no heat behind it as he kicks her under the table. “I know how relationships work and shit. You’re the one who doesn’t listen to me.”
She kicks him back with a “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s finish this pitcher so I can go home and wallow.”
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The notification comes in after brunch, once he and Robin have parted ways and Steve’s just parked at the grocery store (he doesn’t take Robin with him to the store anymore, for both of their sakes). 
‘Hey, just want to make sure we’re still good for tonight?’
Tonight? What’s tonight?
It takes him a moment to remember his actions from the night before, to remember the app. Steve’s stomach flips at the vague memory of a conversation and he opens the messenger. He scrolls up, reading his message history with this Eddie person, and oh god. 
Is it possible to get secondhand embarrassment from your own actions? Your very drunk and somewhat horny actions? The guy seemed to take it pretty well, at least, and Steve taps over to his profile out of curiosity.
And yeah, okay, Tequila Steve had a point. He’s never thought about dating a guy before, but this man is hot, just absolutely sexy in a way Sober Steve isn’t prepared for. He had been planning on telling this Eddie guy that he was drunk when he agreed to meet, that he wasn’t interested, but now that would be a lie. Because he’s definitely interested.
He sends a ‘Yup! Still good :)’ and then quickly follows it with ‘I was so drunk last night that I kind of forgot about our conversation, so I’m glad you messaged me!’
Eddie’s reply takes a second, that starting and stopping going on just long enough to make Steve nervous before a message comes through. 
‘Oh damn! I’m glad I did too. Though you did tell me last night that you’re straight, so I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to meet anymore. I know alcohol can make us do things we normally wouldn’t.’
Oh, he’s sweet. Steve actually does decide to think about it, and flips back over to Eddie’s profile as he does. He goes through the photos again, imagines what it would be like to be close, be intimate with Eddie the way he has with women. It doesn’t scare him the way he thinks it should, because he doesn’t actually think it would be that different. Sex is just sex, right? It’s the person that makes it fun, makes it special. And Eddie definitely seems like a special one.
What reaffirms Steve’s decision is the last photo, where Eddie is holding the acoustic. His eyes catch again on those ringed fingers, on the rough, clearly hand cut neckline of Eddie’s shirt. He thinks about what it would be like to lick the jut of Eddie’s exposed collar bone, and the shiver that runs down his spine has him immediately flipping back to the conversation.
‘I definitely still want to meet. As embarrassing as I was last night, I was telling the truth.’
‘Oh good! Nice to know that sober Steve also thinks I’m cute and is glad I can’t get pregnant.’
Steve groans and drops his head onto the steering wheel a few times. He's never gonna live that one down, is he?
Another message comes through before he can be too mortified, though he almost regrets looking when he sees ‘Unless sober Steve is more upset by that than glad’ which is followed rapidly by ‘It’s okay baby, we can always pretend if you want ;)’
This man is gonna fucking kill Steve.
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Hank's on 6th is a little dive bar that Steve has actually been to a few times, when he and Robin had wanted to go drinking but hadn’t wanted to deal with the noise and bustle of the club. It’s cozy compared to other bars in the area, and Steve is happy for the familiarity of the location as he steps inside. He pauses inside the door and glances around, looking for- oh.
Sitting at a nearby table is Eddie, in the flesh. He’s even more stunning in person, with his hair pulled up into a bun, showing off the jewelry in his ears and the long line of his neck. He’s wearing a dark t-shirt and jeans, and Steve can see a leather jacket slung over the back of his chair.
Eddie spots Steve about the same time and waves, inviting him over. He does his own once-over as Steve approaches, and Steve knows what he looks like. He spent long enough in front of the mirror agonizing over his appearance, making sure everything was perfect. His red sweater is comfortable even though it’s a smidge too small, and he can see Eddie’s eyes catch on the way it stretches across his shoulders, on his forearms where he’s rolled the sleeves up. 
“Not gonna lie,” Eddie says as Steve sits down. “I’m kind of surprised you showed up.”
“I said I would. Tequila Steve might not be the smartest, but sometimes he has good ideas.”
Eddie laughs and Steve is overwhelmed with the desire to dig his thumb into the dimple that appears in the man’s cheek. “Well I hope I get the chance to thank him someday.”
Eddie’s photos don’t do him justice, don’t properly convey the energy he has. They get on better than Steve would have imagined, and while the conversation lulls every now and then, it never truly stops. His piercings catch the light, pulling Steve's attention down to his mouth, to the way it moves while Eddie speaks. It’s distracting, and the teasing smile Eddie wears for the conversation tells Steve that he knows.
Steve learns that Eddie works at an assisted living facility, something he never would have guessed based on the man’s appearance. It’s not a job Eddie ever expected to have, but he loves it, loves helping people who need it and gossiping with the old biddies that have taken a shine to him. In exchange Steve talks about his job as a physical therapist, how he recently started his experiential hours so he can specialize in pediatrics. 
(“I feel kind of dumb now,” Eddie says. “Knowing that you’re a whole ass doctor and I just have a CNA.”
“Eddie, I majored in kinesiology. You’re probably better in a medical setting than I ever will be.”)
They talk about their hobbies and interests, pleased to learn there’s a little bit of crossover with everything. They may not know the ins and outs, but Steve has absorbed some knowledge on D&D thanks to the kids he used to babysit, and Eddie likes to watch sports with his uncle to keep him company on his off days.
They sit and talk for a long while, completely unaware of the time passing until Steve looks at his watch and realizes it’s been nearly four hours since they sat down. 
“Holy shit, it’s almost eleven,” he says, and Eddie blinks in surprise. “Oh wow, I had no idea.” 
It’s like they’ve been snapped back into reality, and Steve notices the half dozen beer bottles littering their table along with the bill that’s been there for who knows how long. Steve pays the check - nearly shoves his card into the server’s hand so he can beat Eddie to it - and they both leave cash for the tip before heading out of the bar.
It’s outside Hank’s that the hesitation sets in. This is one of the best dates Steve has been on in a long, long time, and he really isn’t ready for it to be over. He thinks Eddie feels the same, if the way he reaches over to thread their fingers together means anything.
“Do you want to come back to my place?” Steve asks, practically on impulse, and Eddie smiles.
“I would love to, Stevie.” He takes a breath like he wants to say something else, but pauses, and Steve squeezes his hand gently.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m trying to figure out how to tell you that I want to have sex with you without sounding like a slut who puts out on the first date.”
Well, that’s fair. Steve doesn’t usually have sex on the first date either. He likes the connection that comes with knowing someone emotionally before learning them physically, but there’s just something about Eddie. Steve feels like he knows the man inside and out after just four hours together, and he knows it’s fast but he wonders what it would feel like to wake up next to him in the morning. 
Steve just grins at the blunt honesty and tugs Eddie closer. “If you’re a slut then so am I, because I’m definitely down for that.” 
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The drive back to Steve’s place doesn’t take long, and before he knows it he’s locking the door behind them as Eddie sheds his leather jacket. He drapes it over the back of the couch as he looks around, taking in Steve’s apartment. It’s not much, but it’s comfortable, cozy, very different from the sterile house Steve grew up in.
Eddie smiles as he sees the trinkets dotted about, a mix of gifts from the kids Steve used to babysit and his own little knick knacks, but pauses when he sees a photo collage of Steve and Robin on the nearby wall. Steve doesn’t like the way his smile dips down into a frown, and he walks over to wrap his arm around Eddie’s waist.
“That’s Robin,” he says as he pulls Eddie into his side, needing to quell any doubts or misconceptions he might be having. “She’s my best friend in the entire world, and a lesbian, so you can stop pouting now.”
Eddie gives him a bit of a side-eye and says “Not pouting. Just want to make sure you’re not doing this behind the back of an unsuspecting girlfriend or something.”
Steve smiles at the consideration and shakes his head as he turns Eddie to face him. “No girl, Eds, I promise. Just you and me.”
Something about that seems to be the final straw for Eddie because he surges forward, hands landing on Steve's neck as he leans up to press their mouths together.
The first kiss with Eddie is easy. It’s not earth-shattering or life changing, not like Steve thought it would be kissing a man for the first time. It feels like a normal kiss, and honestly that’s more of a comfort to Steve than anything. The fact that it’s Eddie on the other side of the kiss is what makes him shudder, makes him press closer. 
Eddie’s hands push up into his hair, messing up the styling as Steve dips his head to kiss along his jaw. He hums into smooth skin and slides his own hands down to Eddie’s ass, squeezing it briefly before using his grip to drag Eddie’s hips against his own.
He can feel the line of Eddie’s dick through the layers of denim and yeah, that’s different, but not bad at all. Steve warms up to it pretty quickly actually, especially once Eddie starts moaning into his ear, a low “Fuck, baby,” that only encourages Steve to continue. Their mouths meet in another kiss as Steve grinds their hips together, each thrust working to drive Steve absolutely insane.
Eddie’s hands eventually make their way south to ruck up Steve’s sweater, and he breaks the kiss just enough to mutter “Off, get this off,” against Steve's mouth.
Steve laughs but steps back, pulls off his top and drops it carelessly to the floor. Eddie groans and reaches out, not even hesitating before he pushes his hands into Steve’s chest hair. “God, I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw your photo last night,” he mutters, and it takes Steve a moment to remember the picture he’d drunkenly added to his profile. 
It was just a typical shirtless thirst shot he’d taken before a run one day (though he had put a shirt on before he actually left, thank you), because he’d felt good about the way he looked - and clearly Eddie had appreciated the picture as well. Steve shudders as Eddie scrapes his nails down his chest, and he half-expects Eddie to start purring in delight. 
“Is it as good as you imagined?” he asks, biting back a chuckle, and Eddie nods. 
“Better than. So fuckin’ hot. Don't ever shave it, I beg you.”
Steve does laugh at that. He lets Eddie get his fill for a moment before swooping in to kiss him again. He slips his fingers into Eddie’s belt loops and mutters a “Bed?” against his mouth. Eddie hums in agreement and Steve tugs him along, guiding him to the bedroom and only stopping once to grind their hips together.  
He steps back enough to pull off Eddie’s shirt and groans because his nipples are pierced, and fuck if that isn’t doing something for Steve. Thumbing over one makes Eddie shiver and gasp, and he knows that he needs to get his mouth on them as soon as possible. He feels like a predator as he pushes Eddie back, not stopping until the man is sprawled across his bed, a beautiful feast meant just for him.
Steve crawls on top of Eddie and presses his lips to the spider decorating his shoulder before moving down to lick over his nipple. Eddie shudders and pushes his hands into Steve's hair, holding him in place as Steve seals his mouth around the pink bud. The piercing is warm, and the stark contrast between metal and flesh has Steve groaning into Eddie's skin.
He sucks on it, earning a stuttering moan from the man under him and hands tightening in his hair. “Fu-uck, Stevie.” Steve thumbs over the other nipple and pinches it just to hear him gasp again, before continuing his journey southwards, pressing kisses into the tattoos he comes across along the way. He pauses for a moment to suck a bruise into Eddie’s hip, just above his waistband, and the man is practically squirming.
“God, when I agreed to come over, I didn’t think you were gonna be this much of a tease.”
Steve rolls his eyes and bites into the bruise he just created, pulling a low groan from Eddie. “It’s called foreplay, you ass.”
“I’d rather you foreplay my ass,” Eddie mutters, and Steve laughs into smooth skin. He does concede, though, and pulls back so he can slide off Eddie’s jeans and underwear, discarding them to the floor. Eddie’s dick is pretty, a smidge thinner than his own but just as long, and weeping heavily from the pink tip. Steve wants to touch it, taste it, wants to feel the weight of it on his tongue as Eddie fucks his mouth.
“Feel free to touch it, not just look at it,” Eddie says, and Steve smirks. 
“Normally I would, but someone wanted me to skip the foreplay.”
Eddie groans dramatically in response and Steve ignores him as he reaches over into the nightstand to grab the lube and a condom. He drops the items next to Eddie, and the man gives an “Oh shit!” as he grabs the tube. “You actually have lube?” 
“Uh, I'm a grown man, Eddie. Not some 15-year-old that still uses lotion to jack off.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and smacks the bottle against Steve's chest. “Twenty-four hours ago you told me you were straight, excuse me for making some assumptions.”
“Stereotypical assumptions,” Steve tacks on and Eddie rolls his eyes again harder. “Also you might be surprised to learn this, but some women also enjoy anal, so I'm not actually a complete newbie when it comes to this.”
“And here I was thinking I'd have to hold your hand through the whole thing.”
Steve huffs a laugh and slicks up his fingers. “Oh, do you not want to hold hands while I fuck you into the mattress?”
Eddie gasps and brings a hand to his forehead, like a mockery of some swooning maiden as he says “Why Stevie, I think that's the most romantic thing you've said so- ohhh my god.” He groans as Steve pushes the finger deeper, and kicks his shoulder gently when Steve just grins.
“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie spits, but Steve can tell there's no real heat behind it. He just hums, says “I dunno what you're talking about,” as he slides a second in alongside the first. He hooks his free hand under Eddie’s knee and pushes it closer to his chest, exposing him a bit more. 
Steve leans down to press a kiss to Eddie’s neglected dick and curls his fingers at the same time, trying to hit Eddie’s prostate. He knows he’s successful when hands jerk down, sinking into his hair once more as Eddie keens.
“Shit, Stevie-!” 
“Wanna suck you off next time. Wanna pin your hips to the bed and see how much I can take, wanna tease you until you come on my face, in my mouth.”
Eddie shudders and nods, bucks his hips as best he can with Steve’s fingers in him. “Oh fuck, yes. Gonna let me paint your face, baby? Gonna let me be the first cock to fuck that pretty mouth?”
Steve groans a “Fuck yeah, Eds,” and pushes in a third finger, eager to finish his prep but not wanting to rush. He spreads his fingers wide as he leans in again, sinking his teeth into the junction where thigh meets groin, and Eddie's entire body jerks at the bit of pain.
He tugs at Steve's hair, trying to pull him up as he says “Fuck! That's gotta be good enough, need you in me fucking last week, sweetheart.”
Steve shudders and nods with a “Yeah, baby,” as he pulls his fingers free. He stands up and strips off his remaining clothes, not worrying about where they land before he climbs back between Eddie's legs. He can feel Eddie watching as he rolls on the condom, and he's about to make a remark about it when the man says “You know what kind of sucks?”
Steve just hums in response as he scoots closer, until his thighs are pressed against Eddie's ass and all he has to do is push forward just a little more-
“That we’ll have to get tested before we can put my ability to not get pregnant to good use.”
A groan rips through Steve and he drops his head back at the mental image that creates. “Fuck, you can’t just say that.”
Eddie grins, all Cheshire and taunting as he says “Oh, I can’t? I can’t tell you how excited I am for you to come in me, to fill up my ass until I’m fucking leaking- mmh!”
Steve dives down to shut him up with a kiss before he can say anything else, and he can feel Eddie laughing into it. Arms wrap around Steve’s shoulders, holding him close as they take a moment to just make out, all slick and languid like they're not both on the verge of desperation. Steve wraps a hand around his dick and blindly rubs the head against Eddie’s hole before he finally pushes forward.
Even after prep, Eddie is tight, and Steve groans as he slowly sinks in, not stopping until his hips are flush with Eddie’s ass. He rubs his hands over Eddie’s sides as he just waits there, giving the man a chance to adjust. It only takes a moment before Eddie gives a soft “Okay, I'm good,” and Steve holds good on his word. He leans forward, lacing his fingers with Eddie's and pressing them into the bed as he starts a slow pace.
Eddie goes all starry-eyed as he glances at their joined hands, and mutters “Didn't think you were serious about that.”
“I don't joke about hand holding, Eds. It's very important.” That pulls a soft laugh from Eddie and Steve leans closer until he can kiss that smile, can taste the laugh at its source.
It's hands down the best sex Steve has ever had. Eddie is so responsive, all noisy and twitchy and eager. He quickly figures out what Steve likes and doesn't even attempt to keep his mouth shut, just offers a stream of encouragement that’s only broken when Steve finds and abuses that sweet spot inside him.
“Right there, Eddie? Is that it, baby?”
“Uh-huh, fuck, so good!”
Eddie's a fucking vision, with his brown curls slowly escaping the confines of the bun and his eyes glazed over in pleasure. Steve releases Eddie's hands and slides his own down to clutch at the man's slim waist, his fingers digging into the tattoos decorating his skin. He fantasizes about leaving bruises, about leaving his own mark alongside the black ink and fucks into him harder at just the idea. 
“Shit, Stevie! Gonna come, gonna-”
Eddie gets a hand around his dick and barely gets in a few strokes before he’s coming, a loud “Fuckfuckfuck!” escaping him as he spills over his hand and onto his stomach. It’s so fucking hot, and Steve’s hands tighten around Eddie's waist at the sight. His thrusts are a bit wild as he chases his own orgasm, and all it takes is Eddie's reedy “In me, Steve, give it to me-” before it hits him like a fucking truck. 
He doesn't remember the last time he came this hard, his hips grinding against Eddie's ass as he fills the condom before eventually collapsing down onto the other man. They just lay there for a moment, waiting for their highs to settle and their breathing to return to normal, and Steve smiles when Eddie starts to giggle.
“What's that about?” he asks, using the opportunity to press a few kisses along the line of Eddie's shoulder and neck. The man just grins and shakes his head.
“I haven't bottomed in like- three years. Forgot how good it feels.”
That surprises Steve a bit, actually. “Three years? And you just break that streak for some random person you met on the internet?”
“Mhm. You sent me those messages and I was like ‘Wow, I can't believe I'm gonna let this guy fuck me’.”
Steve laughs and nips at Eddie's shoulder. After a few minutes he carefully pulls out and reluctantly leaves Eddie on the bed as he goes to the bathroom to trash the condom and grab a wet hand towel. He cleans Eddie up before tossing the cloth to the floor and laying down beside him. He's instantly wrapped up in Eddie's arms and he sighs happily as they huddle close together.
“Stay the night? I'll make you breakfast in the morning,” Steve offers, and Eddie hums into his temple. 
“With coffee?”
“With coffee.”
Another hum before Eddie nuzzles into his hair, and Steve can feel Eddie press a kiss to the crown of his head. “Then I'd love to stay the night, Stevie.”
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Steve wakes up slowly the next morning. The sun shining through the window bathes the room in golden light, making Eddie look ethereal where he lays curled into Steve’s side. He takes a moment to just watch the man, to admire the relaxed lines of Eddie’s face as he slumbers on, unaware.
He doesn’t know the last time he felt a connection with someone this- profound. 
Actually, no - the last time this happened was probably with Robin, the girl who became something closer to him than a sister, the one person who probably knows him better than he knows himself. Being with Eddie feels so similar to those early days with Robin - after they’d gotten locked in the bathroom during a mall fire, not the actual early days when Robin seemingly hated him.
So Steve knows deep in his soul that there’s something about Eddie. Something so special ingrained into his very existence, and Steve’s sure that, if he just gives it a chance, Eddie could change his life.
After a few more minutes of basking in the morning silence, he tries to slip out of bed without waking Eddie, but he knows he’s failed when the arms just tighten around him. Eddie groans out a “Noooo,” and Steve grins. He presses a kiss to Eddie’s hair and says “Gotta let me go if you want me to make your coffee.”
A muffled “Man of my dreams,” as Eddie releases him has Steve chuckling as he climbs out of bed. He throws on a pair of sweatpants and heads downstairs, and puts on some coffee before he does anything else. By the time Eddie joins him, dressed only in his boxers from the night before, the coffee is ready and Steve is stacking pancakes onto a couple of plates. 
Eddie seems more awake as he wraps his arms around Steve, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder along with a soft “Morning, sweetheart.”
“Morning, baby. Coffee’s on the counter, sugar’s in the jar and milk is in the fridge if you want it.”
Another kiss meets his skin, this one just below his ear, before Eddie is pulling away. Steve finishes plating the pancakes while Eddie makes his coffee, and they converge at the kitchen island. They eat mostly in silence, but it's not uncomfortable. It's easy, actually, to let the quiet settle around them like a warm blanket. But that doesn't mean Steve's thoughts aren't racing.
“So, uh.” Steve pauses, feels almost bashful as he looks up at Eddie. “It's been a really, really long time since I've felt a connection like this, and I may be a little dumb, but I'm not an idiot.” Eddie frowns at Steve's little self deprecating dig, but doesn't say anything as he continues. “I really want to see where this goes, if you're up for it.”
A slow grin breaks out on Eddie's face and he leans in, getting into Steve's personal space. “Why Stevie. Are you asking me to be your boyfriend? After only one date?”
Steve huffs a laugh and slides a hand up to the base of Eddie's neck, feeling and tangling his fingers with the soft hair there. “I’d ask you right now to move in if it wouldn't make me look fucking insane.”
Eddie's expression instantly goes slack with shock, and fuck, Steve's done it again, hasn't he? Said too much, too soon, and lost something good before it even had a chance to go anywhere. He starts to pull away, wanting to give Eddie some space, but he's stopped by two hands settling on his waist, practically clutching the bare skin.
“My lease is up for renewal in three months,” Eddie says, and Steve blinks in surprise. “So maybe at that point we can see where we are? Because you're right. I don't think I've ever just clicked with someone like this before. It feels like- like fucking destiny or something. And I also really, really want to see where this goes.”
Steve gives in to the urge to pull Eddie forward into a kiss. It’s intense and passionate and a bit sticky, the maple syrup making their lips tacky and causing Eddie to giggle into Steve's mouth.
They’re interrupted by the sound of Steve’s phone ringing with a video call, and he knows who it is before he even looks at the device. He answers with a “Morning, Robin,” and is met with a manic “You’ll never guess what happened this morning!”
“I would hope something with Chrissy, but I’m guessing it’s something with Vickie-”
“Vickie called! Jack fucking proposed to her last night!”
Oh shit. “And she said..?”
“They’re on good terms right now, so of course she said yes!”
Steve takes a sip of coffee and hums. “Sounds like it’s time for you to put on some big girl panties and ask Chrissy out on a real date.”
“Steven, you know I hate that word.”
“I will record it and set it as your ringtone if you don’t make some kind of move, Robin. Before Chrissy gets tired of waiting for you to make a decision and makes one herself.”
She groans pathetically and Steve watches her scrub a hand over her face. “I hate it when you make sense. Can we stop talking about me, please? Distract me with something else.”
“Oh, well, uh,” Steve glances up at Eddie who has been watching the interaction with an amused smile. His heart swells with affection and he blurts out “I have a boyfriend.”
Eddie beams at him as Robin blinks, most likely processing before she says “You just told me yesterday that your dating life was practically nonexistent, and now you have a boyfriend? How did that happen?? And moreover, how long have you liked men??”
She sounds incredulous - rightfully so, honestly - and Steve shrugs. “At least twenty-four hours, but it could realistically be closer to something like thirty-six. I downloaded a dating app the night before last and met Eddie on it. We went on a date last night, he stayed over, and I asked him to be my boyfriend this morning.”
“You asked me to move in this morning,” Eddie says, and Robin must catch it because she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. 
“You’re gonna put every U-haul lesbian in this city to shame,” she mutters before looking at Steve again. “Are you not like- freaking out? I mean, in the near decade I’ve known you, you’ve only dated girls, and now you’re dating a guy? Just like that?”
Steve shrugs and reaches out to take one of Eddie’s hands. “I guess so. You know I’ve always been a roll with the punches kinda guy. And Eddie is- Special. He’s special.”
Eddie is looking at him with those big, brown eyes, wide and a bit awestruck, and Steve can’t resist reeling him close for a quick kiss.
“I am so happy for you,” Robin says, pulling Steve’s attention back to his phone, “but also incredibly upset because now I know I have to follow your advice about Chrissy. Which is just absolutely terrifying.”
“You should have been listening from the beginning. Seriously though, go get your girl, Rob. You deserve to be happy.”
They say their goodbyes after another moment and Steve focuses back on Eddie. “Did you have anything to do today?” he asks as he collects their empty plates and takes them to the sink. Eddie follows, draining the last of his coffee before he replies “Not today. Why, did you have something to do?”
Steve grins and takes Eddie’s mug, setting it on the counter before he scoops the man into his arms. “Other than you?”
Eddie barks a laugh at the line and shakes his head fondly. “Jesus Christ, how did I get my hands on such a dork?”
“Just lucky, I guess,” Steve replies, and tugs Eddie into another sticky kiss. 
Much love to @bramble-berries for brainstorming this with me! (Even if she didn't know it at the time lol.) Also thank you to @sidekick-hero for cheerleading me through the last bit of writing on this! You're an absolute dear! <3
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solitude4chiron · 10 months
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Hobie Headcannons cs some of y’all be treating this man like he’s some white goth nga that’s never had black experiences 😭😭 these are js off the top of my head so don’t tweak out… JUH VIBE
He’s most likely Jamaican/British or African/British because he’s from the UK
He has had multiple people try to force him into playing basketball at least once because he’s 6’5
“Man, so you telling me you ain’t never tried going D1?”
“Never even played.”
“NIGGA WHAT?”
Has gotten his hand popped multiple times from touching his hair while getting it done
“How many do you have left?”
“Boy move that damn hand.”
Gives horrible advice then says “but I don’t kno, thats just me”
“She cheated on me bru. Like cheated. Called me ON FACETIME while they was hunchin.”
“Me personally I would find the guy and start a gas leak in their house while his family is sleeping. But ion kno, that’s just me tho.”
Played soccer as a kid with a makeshift paper soccer ball
Was one of those kids who were forced to finish their plate before leaving the dinner table so he would sit at the table till the next day playing with his food
Illegally listens to and downloads most of the music he likes
“Wanna do a Spotify blend?”
“Y’all use that shi?”
“who df are you bro…”
Will side eye you till you burst out laughing if you both see something crazy in public 
Sung chi-chi man religiously as a child before he knew what the song meant (iykyk)
Takes pictures of white people with braids or locs
Hobie: Attachment: 1
disgusting creatures…
Hangs trash bags on his doorknobs around the house
Had entire debates as a child with older people at the cookout on why he should be able to eat ribs instead of hotdogs
“These steaks for the adults, go grab a lil hotdog and a juice.”
“But why? Can’t we both eat and enjoy the same things without you having to dehumanize me and view me only as a child without preferences for food?”
“Boy go get that fuckin hotdog and caprisun get out my face.”
Had his hairline pushed back astronomically far when he was little (Nigerian boy canon event)
On the other hand he probably never had his hair cut as a kid and started free-forming when he was young (I’m conflicted between both)
Constantly had a smart mouth as a kid (he still does), like CONSTANTLY. Once he got his lips snatched and balled into a fist
Would steal, get caught and say is “it cause I’m black?”
“Yo, were you stealing back there?”
“Why bruv? Cause I’m black?”
“Nevermind.”
Touches hot ass food with his bare hands. Like he will flip pancakes with his hands.
Can literally sleep anywhere.. like anywhere. People in his band have pictures of him hunched over on sinks, sleeping on bathroom floors, in bathtubs with the curtains wrapped around him, on the bus. Anywhere you can think of.
He doesn’t spend much money on birthday gifts or gifts in general. He likes to make things by hand even if he has to spend a few weeks
After his shows he loves to meet people in the crowd, even if they freak out. He isn’t really for the idolizing so he doesn’t know how to express his emotions too much on that.
“OH MY GOD HOBIE!?!”
“i aint think i was that special but thanks luv”
• His jacket makes HELLA noise and he doesn’t realize it. Just like if he had beads in his hair.
“imma get bro good this time..”
“Hobie don’t even try to scare me, i hear that big ass jacket thumpin down the hallway.”
• The first time he kissed a girl with lip piercings like his, they got caught on each other. They sat there for almost half and hour trying to untangle each other without hurting each other.
• He’s definitely been called a few different celebrities before, none really looked like him.
“Are you playboi carti?!”
“Bruv.”
over.
“Your that rockstar dude lancey right?”
“bru…”
and over.
“you Opium?”
“I’m starting to feel this is lowkey sterotypical…”
and over again.
• When he’s in the pit at concerts he looks out for the younger people towards the front to make sure they don’t get thrashed around too hard.
“you good young’n?”
“I CANT FEEL MY FACE”
“that’s cool too”
• He only really steals from big corporations, not small family owned places. Just out of respect. Even when they say he can take things for free he still pays, maybe a few dollars over budget.
• He loves collecting trinkets and little things he finds on the streets or backstage. He has multiple spoons, buttons and scrap fabrics laying around
• When he first learned about capitalism he realized it everywhere, like EVERYWHERE. That boy was pissed.
• He loves girls who can beat him tf up, like whoop his ass. Or girls who will cuss him tf out. Sometimes you both will be arguing and he’ll just sit back and let you go off on him.
anyways yawl that’s it lmk if I should drop some more this was fun asl to make 😛
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disneyprincemuke · 3 months
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mastermind * op81
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oscar did not expect that he had to share a bed with you during his trip to visit you over his break
pairings: oscar piastri x fem!reader
word count: 2k
notes: guys omg i've just been so squashed mentally so i've kinda been struggling to write but no worries,, here is a long overdue and that promised forced one bed trope with oscar <3
(f1 masterlist)
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leaving you behind so he could travel the world was never part of the plan that oscar had mapped out in his head. and you packing up to move several hours away for grad school also was not the plan.
it just makes it all the harder during his short breaks to come and see you. his breaks are truly barely considered one, always asked to come down to headquarters for meetings and strategy talks.
but this time is different. he’s finally managed to shake off his duties this one time, taking a train to finally go and visit you.
there’s a festival nearby, or maybe a concert — he can’t remember which specifically — that didn’t allow him to book a hotel room for himself. besides, the solution is easy when you’ve been friends your whole life; he was just looking for a room out of courtesy and respect for your space.
but when you stepped forward and told him he’s being silly for looking at hotels, he knew that was your subtle way of telling him that he will be staying with you during his stay.
so here he is, a heavy and bulky backpack over his shoulders as his eyes bore on the door of your apartment. he hears some shuffling on the other side before the lock clicks, followed by squeaking as the door is pulled open.
it reveals you, hair up in a bun with your glasses sitting on your nose. you’re still in your pyjamas, he’s guessing you never left your apartment to prepare it for him.
“oscar!” you squeal, throwing your arms into the air. “you’re here!”
he beams and holds his arms out. “you knew i was coming!”
“i know, but i’m just so excited to have you here!” you finally take a step forward and bury yourself into his chest. “it’s been a while — you’ve just been so busy and unattainable.”
“unattainable is a bit much,” oscar chuckles as you open the door slightly wider and beckon to let him in, “just didn’t have the time to come down to you. but i still talked to you.”
you shrug, “i know.”
“well anyway,” he says, putting his bag down on the empty spots next to your couch, “thank you so much for letting me stay. if i didn’t know any better, i’d assume that you somehow hijacked the odds of all the hotels not having rooms available for my stay.”
you laugh, looking over your shoulder to give him a bewildered stare. “i’m not that powerful, oscar.”
it’s only then he realises that your couch was not prepped to be a bed, unlike what he had been expecting when he took up your generous offer to stay in your apartment. it’s not exactly his first time sleeping over at your place, but you almost always prepared your couch to be a bed when he pays a visit, which does not seem to be the case this time around.
“hey?” he calls out hesitantly, looking over his shoulder to get your attention as you trudge the kitchen by yourself. “the couch isn’t made up like a bed… did you forget or something?”
you tilt your head, convincingly confused at him. your eyes trail to the couch behind him before realisation hits you. “oh!” you break into a soft laugh as you approach him. “well, you see… it’s a new couch and it’s so fancy and pink — you can’t possibly sleep on it!”
oscar scans your couch. and to your defense, it does look very pristine and new, and very pink. he can understand where you’re coming from when you claim that he should not sleep on it.
“so, you know,” you say in a slightly softer voice, looking down to the ground to avoid his gaze, “we can share my bed — it’s more comfortable anyway. you wouldn’t get a good night’s rest on this tiny couch.”
oscar turns to look at you before he shrugs. “sure, i guess you know best.”
“i swear!” you squeal, guiding him towards your bedroom to let him settle his things inside. “the couch is too small for you.”
he can only keep laughing at the way you continue to defend your decision to let him share the bed with you.
this situation is less than ideal for him. not only has he spent years of your friendship silently pining for you, but now he is forced to share a bed with you for a week.
though, arguably, this is the best way to finally ease himself into asking you out. but he just can’t be too sure unless he hears it from your lips, telling him that you feel the same. but you’re not saying anything directly to his face.
oscar tries to push away the nerves from sharing a bed with you for the rest of the day. you go out and explore the town you’ve spent the past couple of months in, trying new dishes and taking him to your favourite spots. he enjoys the day with you, not having realised that he missed having you around this much in the time you spent apart.
he couldn’t make it out for your graduation, which sucked, but you claimed that it’s okay because he’s got a big boy job unlike you.
he completely forgot about the situation at hand. the one he spent almost half the afternoon thinking and stressing over, but went away the minute you were laughing at a joke he had made nonchalantly.
it wasn’t until he stepped out of the shower and saw you already passed out on the bed that he suddenly remembered that he was going to have to share the bed with you for the next few nights. you were comfortably nuzzled into one side of the bed with the blankets pulled up all the way to your chin.
oscar almost bails on sleeping on the bed with you, weighing how much more painful it could be if he just made up some stupid excuse and slept on the floor instead. ultimately, he deemed that it would be completely not worth the body pain if did that.
so he sucks it up and dragged his feet against the floor to join you in bed. he tries to carefully lie on the bed without waking you up, suddenly feeling slightly claustrophobic even though you had pushed yourself so far to the edge of the bed that he fears you might fall out at some point in the night.
alas, when the bed dips, he flinches at the way your eyes fluttered open and a lazy grin stretches your lips. “hey,” you croak out before turning to the other side of the bed to give him his space.
“sorry i woke you up,” oscar whispers, hesitantly climbing under the blankets. “goodnight.”
“goodnight, oscar.”
it takes him a while, but he does eventually fall asleep. all he could think of until he passed out was the fact that he is sharing a bed with you for the first time in your friendship. he truly doesn’t know how to act knowing that your back was pressed up against his as he drifted off to sleep.
however, he does have a very good rest. perhaps it was how soft your bed was that contributed to how well he slept. or maybe it’s the pair of arms strewn loosely over his stomach or the face nuzzled into his arm and– wait a second.
oscar opens his eyes, hyperaware of the way your body is now tangled in his with the blankets loosely covering both of your bodies. he wants to move your hand away or excuse himself before he lets his heart take over his mind and do something he might spend the rest of his life regretting.
you don’t seem to be bothered, because as if you had sensed it out of him, you pull your arm back to rub your eyes. “morning.”
“uh,” he hesitates to look at you, “hi?”
you hum, squeaking at the end. “something wrong?”
“you were um,” oscar clears his throat. he should just ask you out, shouldn’t he? he tries to reason out with him as fast as he can without worrying you. you’ve practically cuddled — for god knows how long through the night — and shared a bed; what could go wrong, right?
he will deal with the consequences if your answer is not as expected.
“what is it?” you pull back slightly and furrow your eyebrows. “what do you think we should have for breakfast?”
he blurts it out, which is not the way he envisioned himself ever asking you out. he considers himself calmer than the average person but there was something about your somehow forced proximity. “i like you a lot.”
“what?” you laugh, pulling back even more as your eyes widen.
oscar stares at you as he feels the whiplash of his decision hit him. he knew it. he should not have asked you out now; the rest of his trip would definitely be awkward the rest of his trip. he should have just asked you on his last day so he could spend the time apart getting past the embarrassment of getting rejected.
of thinking that asking his friend out is a good idea.
“oscar,” you laugh again, scrambling to sit up. his cheeks heat up, clenching his jaw as the embarrassment consumes his body whole. “of course, i like you too.”
he looks at you from the corners of his eyes, arms folded over his chest. he hears his heart in his ears, his entire body running from the sheer adrenaline of finally confessing to you about something he’s had to keep in his chest for years. “seriously?”
“you are so cute,” you put a hand on your chest and tilt your head. “how can i not?”
oscar lets out a heavy breath, his airways clearing at the positive ending the situation is seeing. “so can i take you out on a date today? if you don’t mind that we stray from your itinerary, of course… i know you spent a long time coming up with it.”
you shake your head, unable to contain the growing smile on your face. “i don’t care — we’re going on a date!”
— bonus
oscar stands up from his seat, starting to gather the used plates that littered your dining table. he’s found the time to be the one to visit you once more, after a long triple header of races, so he came down instead of having you travel out for him.
your first date went well, of course, and that eventually led to a second date. by the third date, oscar mustered up the courage once more to ask you to be his girlfriend.
you’d been friends for so long that it didn’t really matter when he asked you to make it official. at that point, it just felt long overdue when you also admitted that you’d had feelings for him for a while.
he catches a glimpse of your neat couch, pillows and a throw blanket stacked in the corner again like clockwork. he hears you walk out of the kitchen, handing him a glass of cold water. “you know… if you weren’t so weird about your new fancy couch, i probably never would have confessed my feelings to you.”
you put your glass down on the table and walk over to the couch without another word, pulling the cushions off and throwing it on the ground nonchalantly. oscar’s eyebrows shoot up as you unfold the bed, revealing the sofa bed that you had owned this entire time. “i know!” you beam, throwing your arms in the air.
he stares at you. “you… what?”
“yeah!” you squeak, now returning the cushions to show him the set-up of the sofa bed. “i orchestrated it all!”
“you’re sneaky!”
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@33-81 @darleneslane @namgification @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico
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rockstarhaechan · 4 months
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after hours | lee haechan part 1.
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pairing: lee haechan x fem!reader
warnings: rockstar hyuck, fwb, smut, cum eating, choking, fingering, oral (m/ receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex (do not), overstimulating, breeding kink, rest of nct dream being mentioned, alcohol & drugs, angst, car sex, pet names (doll, love, darling)
summary: haechan and his band mates were having a lot of concerts in your area, you two always hooked up in the after hours of his concerts, recklessly getting drunk and high, you’ve got fucked by the universe when you started to catch feelings for him.
next part !
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the crowd was cheering, lights flickering and you’re in the front, looking at the most attractive guy you’ve ever seen.
lee haechan.
he was the main singer in his band, the rest of them look majestic as well but he always stood out from everyone else.
liner black, framing his eyes perfectly, smudged eyeshadow.
multiple rings on his fingers, jeans ripped and his shirt was hanging loose from his chest.
“how are the hot ladies feeling tonight” haechan screamed into his microphone, eyes meeting yours.
the two of you have been friends with benefits for a long time, but like haechan always says with no strings attached!
works fine till now because you mostly only spend the after hours with haechan and his band mates, mostly just haechan though.
end result of being alone with haechan resulted into his dick being buried deep inside you, making it almost impossible to not fall for him.
being able to resist for a while longer made you happy, like you achieved a certain goal of self confidence, but haechan was thinking otherwise.
he should’ve ended it with you instead of just letting you in all the time, same as today’s gonna be.
when reality hit him, standing on the stage eyes locked with yours while he licked his lips he knew that it’s gonna be the exact same in the after hours.
the end of the concert was near, haechan signaling you to come backstage, basically to just fuck you senseless once again.
you’re slowly making your way backstage, as someone held your arm stopping you from walking any further.
“where are you going?” the random guy asked you, still holding onto your arm, not letting go.
“i’m meeting haechan, he told me to go backstage” you spoke the truth, but the man wasn’t going to let you go, standing in the way not letting you past him, until someone spoke up.
“let her through, she’s with me” haechan stated to him and then he finally let you through the little door in the back, to finally meet haechan & the rest of the boys.
some time has passed, almost everyone was tipsy or either high from the joint that has been passing by every now and then.
unable to feel your legs while sitting on haechan’s lap, laughing.
you felt like you’re on cloud 9, but this is a normal thing.
getting drunk and high with haechan and his band mates happens almost every weekend, sometimes even on weekdays when they invite you to a bar concert.
“you wanna come home with me?” haechan whispered in your ear while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling at you.
you just nodded, not wanting to talk right now but haechan slowly got up letting you fall off his lap.
wobbly legs, stumbling a little over your own feet.
haechan started guiding you to his car walking arm in arm with you, not letting go of you for any second.
“do you know how horny you make me” haechan told you while his hand slowly moved down to your waist pulling you closer to him, almost making you fall over.
he opened the car door for you, letting you get into the car first before he joined you on the backseat.
hands roaming over your body, resting on your waist before locking his lips on your, tongues playing with each other while soft moans escape your lips.
“can we get rid of this?” he tugged on your shirt before draping it over your head throwing it in the front seat.
“you’re so gorgeous doll” was the only thing you’ve heard before he went back to kissing you, his hands? they were now flat on your thighs squeezing harshly every now and then.
“hyuck, if you continue like this i’m gonna cum on the spot” you broke the kiss to let him know what exactly he’s been doing to you but he only chuckled and laughed at you with a small “that’s my plan” before his right hand traveled under your skirt playing with your clit through your panties.
“so wet already? damn doll and we haven’t even started yet” he purred out wrapping his finger around your waistband to move your skirt up.
you noticed how he slowly started to fuck you with 2 of his fingers, his rings which are touching your skin are cold making you shiver a little.
moaning out his name loudly, while he picked up his pace, curling his fingers with every swift motion he’s been doing. haechan knew exactly what he has to do to make you cum cause without any doubt he knew you better than anyone else.
“n-need to cum” was the only thing you’ve been able to get out in between your moans, body aching from your upcoming climax but haechan helped you reach it and ride it out on his fingers.
while you tried to catch your breath, haechan had other plans for the night, quickly unbuttoning his pants before lifting you up a little to pull them down revealing his cock which is leaking pre cum.
you’re slowly sinking down, the tip pushing into you making you catch your breath adjusting to his size. this wasn’t the first time you’ve been fucking with each other but you always had to get used to his size.
“move whenever you’re ready darling” he placed a little kiss on your lips as his hands rested on your hips softly pressing his fingers into your flesh groaning as you gently began to move your body upwards and then gently back down, hands resting on his shoulders.
“fuck hyuck” you breathed out moaning his name a little too often. the after hours of his concerts got you and haechan really close, always ending up in those situations, but you couldn’t care less about whatever is happening cause you couldn’t complain either.
his grip on your hips tightened as he slammed your body down on his lap leaving you breathless as you tried to catch your breath once again.
“i’m gonna cum doll lemme cum into you” he groaned out as he buckled his hips picking up an insane pace, pounding into your dripping cunt, fucking you senseless.
“cum with me doll” you felt his dick twitching inside of you as you reached another climax, arching your back crying out loudly.
the both of you sat on the backseat of his car, panting in and out, windows fogged up. haechan looked you right in the eyes as he pulled his pants back up, closing his buttons before reaching out to grab your shirt from the front seat.
“you wanna stay in the backseat or you wanna come to the front with me love?” he smiled at you before opening the back door as you climbed into the front, right when you wanted to sit down haechan slapped your ass playfully letting out a small laugh.
“that’s rude” you laughed out, putting the seatbelt on while resting your feet on the front console of the car plugging your phone into the aux, playing after hours by the weeknd.
“what are we gonna do when we get home doll?” he asked you as he turned on the engine, waiting for your answer.
“what about round two?” looking at him while grinning, he pressed down on the gas pedal, eyes locking with yours.
“round two sounds great doll” he smiled before looking at the road again while holding your hand.
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tzuyusluv · 24 days
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☀︎ Return of Happiness
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genre -> fluff
pairing -> enha’s niki x reader
warnings -> idol au, mentions of getting married, niki teases mc slightly
word count -> 0.6k
summary -> meeting niki after a long tour
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This plane ride back to Korea was longer than the three month long tour. Maybe it’s because during the tour you were too distracted by seeing all your fans, the new places and being splashed with water by your other members to really think about being in a different country from your boyfriend and friends.
It felt like it had been three days since you boarded, but looking at the time on your phone showed it had only been an hour and a half. You still had around eleven more to go until you reached Seoul’s airport and most likely another hour until you could get out of there if you were lucky.
Looking at the time again, you sigh when you see that only a minute has passed. Your leader, who sat next to you, placed their hand on your shoulder gently and rubbed their hand against it, comforting you.
“I know you want to go see him. You will once we land. The company always gives a few weeks break after a tour.” They whispers softly. “You can go to sleep and dream of giving Riki your gifts from every city we visited. I’ll wake you up an hour before we land.”
Sleep sounded good. Especially as an idol who often didn’t get enough sleep. But yet, your mind just couldn’t stop thinking. You thought of every concert, the outfits the fans war that sometimes rivaled yours when you were on stage, your members who were littered throughout the plane. You thought of Riki the most though. How sweet he was, how his humor always landed with everyone he met, how he was so much taller than you and treated you so gently, like a porcelain doll.
You started to drift off at the thought of him. Eventually your eyes shut and you fell asleep. Dreaming of Riki.
You woke to your leader tapping your shoulder. “Hey, we’ve landed. I tried to wake you at the hour mark but you didn’t want to.” They explain gently. Stretching as best as you can in those small spaces, you look around as everyone started to stand up and grab their packages. “Manager says that there’s a surprise out there.” They say standing from their seat to count where the rest of your members are currently.
“A surprise?” You ask. “Manager never surprises us.” Your leader nods in agreement. Waiting for everyone to clear out, you move in the aisle. Your leader following and grabbing both of your guys luggage’s. When the rest of your group eventually groups back up, you exit the plane while expressing your thanks to the flight attendants.
“Ok I was told we have wait here for manager.” The leader stops the group. You lean on your luggage, still tired and oblivious to the grins that your members are giving you.
Jolting up when you feel hands on your waist, you turn around thinking it was one of your members seeking revenge for you pouring a water bottle over them. Instead you turn and meet Riki.
“Hey jagi.” He says smiling while you stand there dumbfounded. “Wow I’m so hurt. Not even a hug.” He fake pouts. You snap out of your trance before lunging on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. “Missed me that much didn’t you?” He teases as he gently kisses your temple. Hiding your face in his neck, you nod your head as best as you can. “Well don’t worry. Your manager said that I can sleep over tonight as long as the door is open.” He says against your skin before kissing it again.
“Got gifts for you in every city.” You mumble against his neck. “Wow stealing my ideas now huh? First it was my heart, then my ideas. What’s next, my last name?” He teases you again. You just shake your head in disbelief at his words. “Don’t worry Jagi. I’ll make sure to get your managers blessings before.”
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vickyzangels · 1 year
Text
% “..but i kinda hope they catch us, anyway.”
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# synopsis ; an anon asked for sfw and nsfw headcanons for tom but i accidentally deleted the ask while trying to fight for my life against tumblr because every time i added a border two other pictures would disappear tumblr i hope you fall down the stairs
# pairing ; tom kaulitz x reader
# word count ; 551
# tags ; nsfw further under “keep reading” (mdni)
a/n ; i’m gonna drop this first but i have a nearly finished smut oneshot literally sitting in docs rn if i get decent enough feedback on this i’ll drop it
sfw
y’all remember that interview where he said he’d “fall in love for only a night but that he’d be down for true love later”? yeah unfortunately that applied to you, too
this can go one of two ways, you work close to the band as staff or you were a fan at one of their concerts that for some reason has to keep coming back and tom took a visual liking to you
what goes down between you two after he first notices you is vague but tom keeps seeing you every time you’re around and you started weaseling your way into his head at every hour of the day
he’d never admit that though (yet), so he’s still gonna keep up his playboy act for a bit but you’re gonna pick up that he’s being closer to you like making small jokes with you and being a little nicer
god it took you so long but he finally let you squeeze through his shell enough to be relatively close friends for a while but this definitely became a “do i wanna know if this feeling flows both ways” situation
yes the feeling did flow both ways, too bad he was still a player and you didn’t wanna ruin anything so you just endlessly flirted with each other
i am 92% sure he came to you first at an afterparty absolutely wasted and told you in german “du bist so unglaublich schön und ich will dich so sehr.” you are so infuriatingly beautiful and i want you so bad.
unfortunately, bill had to translate for you
i’ve been talking a lot so i’ll try to sum up a relationship with him and add miscellaneous points
he makes an effort to act like a boyfriend in your relationship, like he doesn’t openly flirt with other people out of genuine respect for you
first date was something like you two staying over at one of your houses for the night like a sleepover or doing something in the city
he has never forgotten any important day for you. never. and on that topic, he’ll get gifts for those days nearly months in advance
he appreciates a person with aesthetic
i’m lying, tom would fall head over heels in love if you wear something even remotely close to his style
nsfw
tom is a dog, y’all have seen the way he talks about what he wants to do during sex but he’s the most respectful person someone could probably ever ask for, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to pause everything if you told him you felt a little uncomfortable
the type of guy to fake bang you from behind when you bend over to grab something.
he’d spit in your mouth, having you kneel in front of him and holding your jaw open by squeezing it then making you swallow it if you wanted to be touched at all
this almost isn’t a headcanon but he’s a tit guy, regardless of size he’d froth at the mouth just to hold them
there’s not a big dom/sub thing between you two but he’s a switch because i said so
y’all… his favorite position is doggy or prone bone doesn’t matter as long as he gets to pull you by your neck up to him
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a/n ; wow. didn’t think i could write something like this but i have a lot more so lmk if i should make a part 2?
© ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO VICKYZANGELS. do not steal, repost, plagiarize, or use my work for anything.
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modanisgf · 2 months
Text
APPLE CIDER , HUH YUNJIN
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☆ SUMMARY— you met yunjin at a beabadobee concert and never went back, being attached at the hip. though as you start to develop feelings for her, you realize she’s been hiding something from you. something that you couldn’t live with.
☆ PAIRING(S)— non!idol huh yunjin x fem!reader
☆ WARNING(S)— some angst, profanity
☆ GENRES— right person wrong time, wlw, miscommunication, forbidden love, yunjin is a bit toxic i am now realizing! (erm..)
☆ A/N— for my number one pookie @jayjj7 🙏 thank u for being my friend 🫶🫶🫶 you are so funny and thank u for making me laugh sm also i promise it gets good at the end guys.. i also actually dk a lot about cupid so pls dont comment on how accurate that part is
☆ WC— 1.5k
MASTERLIST
if you were being entirely honest with yourself, you’ve loved huh yunjin since the day you met her. the way she helped you when you were at your lowest, being the only person to even look at you.
yunjin was perfect in all ways but one, and you’re starting to catch on. she had been rather distant lately, giving you short replies and even going as far to leave you on read.
you weren’t sure what sparked this, it happened randomly one day and ever since you’ve felt different. the days seemed longer and more boring without yunjin to light them up, but you still made it through just barely.
one night though, you woke up to a loud ringing. cursing at yourself for forgetting to put your phone on silent, you picked up your phone and answered not checking the contact before.
“hello?” you say, yawning.
“y/n?” yunjin says her voice woke you right up, the shock making you sit up.
“yunjin?” you say, confused.
“why are you calling me this late?”
“i need to tell you something, can you meet me at our spot soon? it can’t wait i’m sorry.”
“i’ll be there.” is all you say before hanging up, quickly making an effort to get ready.
you weren’t sure why you agreed, considering yunjin hadn’t even taken the time out of her day to speak to you until now. but you’re soon reminded of your love for the girl, the thought making you sigh.
finally, you finish getting ready, leaving your house and making your way down your street heading for the lake you and yunjin would always visit.
the two of you could spent hours there just talking, the memories flooding in as you thought about the place.
pushing them back, you stopped at the front of the lake once you saw yunjin. you could recognize her face from a mile away, her bright red hair always making you laugh remembering the night she dyed it.
“y/n does it look bad?” she asks, looking horrified at you over the phone.
“no yunjin it looks good.” you say, barely containing your laughter.
“why are you laughing then?!”
“you’re so cute.”
yeah, you hated how good your memory was.
yunjin must’ve heard your footsteps, the girl turning around to meet your eyes waving to you timidly.
you walked over to her, taking a seat next to her. the tension was evident between you two, considering this was the first time you were around each other in weeks.
"where have you been?” you ask quietly.
“dealing with some things but—“ she replies.
“why didn’t you tell me?” you say, the anger you felt previously coming back.
“there’s more to it y/n.” yunjin sighs.
“yunjin i’ve told you everything, i’m sure that i won’t be mad if you just communicate with me.” you say, your hand reaching out for hers as she interlocks them.
“are you sure?” yunjin says quietly, making you more nervous.
“i’m sure.”
“y/n i love you, i’ve loved you since forever now and i want to be yours.” yunjin says, holding your hand tightly now.
your eyes light up, “why didn’t you just tell me? i’m in love with you too, i thought it was obvious.”
“that’s not exactly the issue though i just—“ yunjin pauses, thinking about her word choice carefully.
“we can’t be together.” she says finally, making you drop her hand.
“huh?”
“we can’t be together y/n, and it’s not right for me to keep this from you anymore.”
“what the hell are you talking about?”
yunjin flinched at your tone, moving away from you a bit in order to give you space. she bit her tongue, thinking of ways to explain this situation.
the truth is yunjin was here to help y/n find love, not have her fall in love with her and yunjin reciprocate the feeling. yunjin was never truly meant to become this close to y/n, and for weeks now her ‘boss’ had been sending her angry messages.
she had been gone too long from her post, other people needing her help were waiting for cupid to come into their lives and assist them. but the tale was slowly disappearing, as yunjin was gone.
yunjin was set to go home the next morning, so she had to explain this quickly. she didn’t know why she didn’t just spend her last days with y/n, and she knew how much regret she would be feeling as she left. she chose to ignore that for now, refocusing on you.
the silence was very long on your end, but it broke as you saw yunjin look at you again. her eyes boring into yours, yunjin not noticing how furious you looked.
“we were never meant to fall in love, i was supposed to help you find love.” yunjin says, leaving you confused.
“what do you mean? yunjin you sound so stupid right now—“ you say, thinking she was messing with you.
“i’m serious y/n,” she deadpans, “we aren’t allowed to date.” she says firmly.
“who isn’t allowing you?” you ask.
yunjin didn’t think this through at first, realizing the concept of cupid was just a myth in your eyes only making it harder for you to take her seriously.
“my dad,” yunjin lies not wanting to drag this out, “he isn’t fond of me being in a relationship right now.”
you look at her with sympathy, apologizing soon after.
“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have been so rude—“ you rant on, yunjin cutting you off.
“it’s fine y/n, but there’s another thing. i leave tomorrow morning.” yunjin says.
“to where?” you ask, wondering so many different things.
why the hell was yunjin dropping all of this on you now? you could’ve spent her last week together, but instead she decided to ghost you. in short, you were frustrated with her immensely. you didn’t like how she had you wrapped around her finger, and you should’ve never accepted her invite to the lake.
“i’m just moving, my parents wanna move up north.” yunjin says, looking down.
it was obvious she was lying, but you chose to ignore it. at least she was saying something to you now, instead of leaving you on read for days on end not even bothering to respond ever.
“mhm.” was all you could say, not really sure what else to.
“yunjin, are you gonna tell me why you’re really leaving?” you ask, noticing how fast she tenses up.
she definitely thought she had you, the thought making you roll your eyes.
“i can’t, you wouldn’t understand-“
“just tell me, it doesn’t matter if i do or not i want to know the truth.” you say firmly.
yunjin sighs taking a long pause, “y/n, we can’t date because i’m not supposed to be yours.”
“we weren’t even supposed to meet, but i felt differently about you when i first saw you.” yunjin says.
“when i was crying at concert..?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood a bit. you smile when you see yunjin laugh a bit.
“yeah..” yunjin says, reminiscing.
“i’ll never forget that night.”
“i promise you if it was up to me i would take every chance i could to be yours, i’d love you until the end of time.” yunjin starts, “but unfortunately it couldn’t be that way, and i have to leave soon to help others.”
“i’m cupid.” she finishes.
“cupid?”
“yes, i was meant to pair you up with someone at that concert.” yunjin says, quietly.
“yunjin, and you never thought to tell me this at least a week before you have to go back?” you ask.
yunjin takes a deep breath before replying, the tension in her muscles leaving her feeling uneasy.
“i just didn’t think you would love me back, i thought i could just leave and forget about my feelings but i didn’t realize until recently that you felt the same.” yunjin says.
“yunjin, you make it so hard to not love you.” you say, holding her face in your hands now.
“i’m so sorry y/n. i’m so sorry that we never get to be with each other.” yunjin says, looking straight into your eyes.
“it’s not your fault jin, i forgive you.”
“can i hold you before you go?”
“please.”
the two of you spent a while at that lake in silence, as you fell asleep with yunjin in your arms. secretly you wished that she would be there when you woke up, knowing well she wouldn’t.
you felt empty when you woke up, yunjin’s presence not being there. you stared out at the rising sun, before you notice a little note in front of you.
‘i’ll always love you.’ it read, with no signature. but you knew who wrote it, not even needing to think twice.
you’ll always think about huh yunjin, no matter how much time passes. she just meant that much to you, a girl you met a concert during your worst. you’ll miss her for decades, moving on never working.
wishing you weren’t stuck on someone you couldn’t have, someone you wouldn’t even be able to see ever again.
you missed her so bad, and it hurt so bad knowing you were never going be with her.
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coco-loco-nut · 15 days
Text
Twins
pairing: Lando x Twin Reader
summary: you are Lando younger twin, arguably more famous, and finally get to see him win, then you get to embarrass him a couple times
a/n: i was listening to the spice girls and got carried away from the original request, my bad :) also it’s not proofread
requests open masterlist
———————
“Lando, I literally have more followers and awards than you,” you argue with your twin about who’s more famous.
“Okay, well I’m still older,” he replies.
“Stop arguing, you rarely see each other as is. Why don’t you show her around the paddock and garages before you need to get ready for the race?” Zak rubs his face, tired of the sibling nonsense. He wasn’t wrong, you were much busier with your career. You are a member of a girl band that has been likened to the Spice Girls, have a successful solo career, and model when not on tour. The only reason you are at this race is because you have a concert in the same city a few hours after it.
“How’s the tour?” Lando asks, you arm looped with his as he leads you out of the garage.
“It’s so much fun. I missed being out on the road with the girls, and all the shows sold out. We should go to the club after our show, I heard that Miami is great for parties,” you say excitedly. The two of you were really close, despite your schedules not being great for hanging out.
“We will. All the guys are grateful for the tickets to your show tonight, by the way,”
“It was my pleasure, you guys will be in the family tent near the stage with backstage access. Enough about that, when will you no longer be Lando NoWins, bringing dishonor on my name,” you tease and he gently shoves you.
“Today’s the day, I feel it,” he says, pointing out some things. The nice thing about your stardom is that both you and Lando don’t notice or care about the cameras on you.
“Sure, and pigs will fly. The girls and I made a bet, if you win, then we will invite you and the grid up to the stage,” you tell him.
“Y/n?” you hear Carlos say from a group of drivers. Lando drags you over.
“Hi, Carlitos. How’s red suiting you?” you ask, hugging the Spaniard.
“Good, I heard you were in town for a show. How’s being an international pop star suiting you?” Carlos returns your question.
“It’s a lot of fun, I do miss Lando though,” you glance at your twin.
“Your sister is hot,” Logan says, he’s heard some of your music and he knows you are talented.
“Is she single?” Lance asks, also looking at you.
“She has a boyfriend, Luke, he’s an actor,” Lando scowls at the two guys.
“Would we know him from anything?” Max asks, trying to distract Lando.
“Bridgerton,” Lando says and the two single drivers groan.
“Yeah, you two don’t stand a chance. She’s dating Colin Bridgerton,,” Charles laughs.
“He’ll be at the concert tonight too,” Lando adds.
“I’m returning my favorite Norris to you, Lando,” Carlos walks you back over to the group.
“We will see you guys later,” Lando says, pulling you away so he can continue the tour.
“I found out who is performing at COTA this year,” you tell Lando and his eyes widen.
“Is it Taylor again? I can’t believe we missed out on that,” Lando guesses and you shake your head.
“Me, you idiot!” you gently hit his head.
“I knew you couldn’t stay away from me for too long,” Lando grins smugly.
“I can, and will, take away your ticket for tonight,” you threaten. Lando ignores you, pointing out something else. After the tour, Lando shows you where you can get a quick workout in while he changes into his race gear. You wait for Lando in the garage, where you meet Bianca.
“I’m a huge fan,” she gasps when you sit beside her.
“You’re a huge fan? I’m a huge fan. I love watching you race,” you tell her. Of course you support the F1 Academy, you just hope that the girls get contracts from it.
“Can we get a picture?” Bia asks and you are quick to agree. You get a couple pictures together before you spot Oscar and Lando walking in.
“Lan, Osc, come here. Family picture,” you call them over as Bia hands her phone to a social media staff member.
“We should do one of those awkward family photos from Tik Tok and gift them to Zak,” Bia suggests to Lando and Oscar.
“Sure Bia, we will talk about it later,” Oscar says, heading over to his car.
“Don’t crash, Lando, Mum will kill me,” you hug your twin tight.
“Maybe I will then,” he jokes but you give him a look that says it wasn’t funny. “Sorry, you’re right, I shouldn’t joke about that. I’ll see you after the race,” Lando heads out to the starting grid. You cheer when Oscar leads the race, and again when Lando takes the lead. After the safety car, you don’t speak about Lando’s position, afraid to jinx it. You run with the team to the end of the pit lane after lando crosses the line. You cry as Lando runs over, jumping into the arms of his team, and you cry harder when he’s set back down and hugs you.
“I’m so proud of you, Lando,” you say, holding him tight.
“Thank you for being here for me,” he says back, he’s crying too. You pull away and wipe the tears from his eyes.
“Go enjoy your podium, champ,” you smile as the crew lets you know it’s time to go to the podium. Bia pushes you up front with Zak. You video call your parents so they can watch from your view as well as the tv. You don’t even realize, or care, that the cameras captured you crying beside Zak as Lando raised his trophy. Afterwards, there’s only a minute to congratulate him again before you have to go to the Kaseya Center. You manager wanted Hard Rock Stadium, but that’s currently occupied by a bunch of F1 teams.
You start the show strong with the girls, and when you get to the part of the show where you usually bring out a musical guest, you have the pleasure of introducing the guys. The guys don’t realize that the girls and you have planned on embarrassing them.
“Thank you so much Miami, if you guys have been following the tour, then you know this is the part where we introduce a very special musical guest. I think you guys are going to like this one,” you grin devilishly as the crowd cheers.
“Give it up for your hometown boy, Logan Sargeant,” you pause again and watch Logan run onto the stage. “You’re a winner in their hearts, Logan. I’d also like to introduce my twin brother, Lando NoWins, fresh off of his very first Grand Prix victory,” you smile, Lando making a beeline to hug you. “Also the rest of the grid, I don’t need to introduce them, you know them from fan fiction about my brother,” you watch Lando almost choke on the air he’s breathing. Your band mate, Amy, takes over as you and the two other girls pass the guys mics.
“These boys have graciously agreed to prove they are multitalented, so they are going to be singing a favorite of ours,” she smiles, motioning the crowd to cheer. You and the girls start the introduction to Wannabe by the Spice Girls, the guys taking over at the start of the first verse. The four of you fill in where the guys don’t know the words as much, but it’s clear they are having fun with it, especially since there are dancing terribly on stage.
“The Formula One drivers, everyone! Their first and last musical performance on stage, stick to driving, my loves,” you laugh, most of them choosing to hug you before leaving the stage.
“Great show, Y/n,” your boyfriend, Luke, kisses you before going to greet your band mates so you can receive the horde of drivers.
“I can’t believe you made us sing,” Lando says, a smile on his face.
“At least it was a song I knew,” George says, he actually did kinda slay.
“Can I collaborate with you?” Charles asks.
“Of course, let’s find a time after the race season,” you tell charles.
“You forget not all of us know Brit Pop,” Alex pouts.
“You didn’t know the Spice Girls?” Fernando seems actually offended.
“Fernando, you made your debut at the height of the Spice girls, Oscar wasn’t even born when their last album came out,” Lewis points out.
“That one doesn’t count, Geri wasn’t in it,” Max says, referring to his team principal’s wife.
“You all sounded wonderful because you were having fun with it,” you tell them, Luke walks back over to you, handing you a towel and water.
“Geri just texted me, she said she thought we were funny, but we aren’t allowed to sing any more Spice Girls because we make her look bad,” Max says, looking at his phone. “Oh, but she thought your band is just lovely, and that the Spice Girls should join you for a tour stop,” Max tells you.
“Well, you all heard Ginger Spice, no singing career for you lot,” you laugh.
“Alright, you guys have a good rest of the season. I’ll see you in Austin,” you wave goodbye to them, only Lando remains.
“Would you and Luke like to join me for a late night dinner?” Lando asks, you look to your boyfriend for confirmation.
“If you can find somewhere that we won’t be mobbed, we are in,” you lean into Luke. “Alright, I need to shower and change, follow me,” you show them to a green room near your dressing room. After a quick shower, you throw on an oversized McLaren tee and grey sweatpants. The dinner is lovely, but you have to go straight from there to the airport to catch the late flight to your next tour spot.
When you return for Austin as a solo artist, you are bouncing with excitement, Lando has looked really good the last few races. After qualifying, you go to the stage to get ready for your performance. Lando sends a selfie to you of him and the guys waiting front row for your concert to start, obviously surrounded by security.
About halfway through, you pause to truly appreciate all 80,000 people here to watch you.
“I’d like to take a moment to appreciate all of you for being here, even if it’s just because my twin drives really fast. I, um, wanted to bring out some guest to show you how much I appreciate you all, if that’s okay with you?” you ask as the crowd goes crazy.
“If you couldn’t tell from my Miami concert, I love this band, so from the Spice Girls, Ginger and Scary Spice, aka Geri Horner and Mel B! Accompanying us on piano is Charles Leclerc!” You open your arms for the crowd to greet them, the tifosi in the crowd are extra loud. “Lando, close your ears,” you say really quickly, moving upstage to get into position beside the two Spice Girls. Charles starts playing the into to 2 Becomes 1, a very slow and sexual song. As the three of you move downstage, you can see Lando’s embarrassed face. Worth it.
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wonysugar · 8 months
Text
keep talking | aeri uchinaga
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synopsis : your best friend, aeri, was on tour with her fellow aespa members. she missed you a whole lot though, so you guys get on call and she asks you to talk about your day, to ramble, and to just keep on talking<3
pairing : idol!giselle x fem!reader
genre : best friends to fwb, phone call, smut!!
tags : phone sex, giselle is pretty subby in this, so yknow reader is kinda dommy, long distance, bffs to fwb, fingering, clit rubbing, dirty talk, you talk her through it ehehehe, aeri is still an aespa member, they’re on tour, and aeri has practice later help, what a bummer :((
warning : none just horny smut lol
word count : around 1.2k
a/n: this has been in my drafts since july,,, SO sorry,, but anyways i hope you enjoy this :] thank you
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“a-s-a-p, babyy, hurry up, don’t be lazyy”
you heard the ringtone from your cellphone, immediately jumping on your bed from excitement as you quickly accepted the anticipated call, not even bothering to read the contact name. you’ve been planning to call her ever since she’s left the country, but she’s just been so endlessly busy recently, you couldn’t help but miss her.
immediately greeted by the voice of your best friend, aeri, a playful “heyyyy.” is what came out of your speaker.
“heyyyyy.” you sang back just as playfully, earning a giggle from her. “how is it in the uk? you having fun?” you ask, occupying your fingers by twirling and playing with your hair as she hummed. her and her band, aespa, were currently on tour. today, they landed in london, and were now getting ready for their concert tomorrow.
“it’s fun!! we landed only a few hours ago but i’m already loving the city so farrr. i went grocery shopping with ning earlier and, it was like.. so fun for no reason??” she told you, you could visualize her smile just from the way she spoke. “it would be so much more fun if you were here though, y/n..” she added, now probably pouting.
you chucked, “it’s okay, aeriii. it’s not like we’re completely separated, we have each other’s number. worst case scenario, we text a couple of times in a day.”
“but it’s not the sameee.” she whined, “seeing your best friend in person and seeing them through a screen is not the same thing at all.”
you tried reassuring her that the tour wasn’t gonna last that long, and that you both were gonna hang out as soon as it was over. she eventually agreed and shrugged the feeling off, asking about your day and how you’ve been.
“to be honest, it’s also been kinda lonely without you so i’ve just been at home in my freetime, sometimes going on walks. though i should say! listening to your music while i’m at work does help, like girl.. that shit gets me so hyped up like m-m-mamba-“ you rambled on and on, confident that she was listening to everything you were saying due to the responsive mhms she let out.
they progressively became less frequent, however, and then, at some point, they just completely stopped. you started worrying, wondering if the signal was gone or something..
“you there?” you ask.
“h-huh? y-yeah i’m still here.” she replied with a slightly shaky voice.
that didn’t sound very convincing.. was she feeling okay? before you could ask, a small noise escaped her lips. a noise that sounded like… a whimper. a whimper that was trying to held back.
“you know, we can call some other time if you don’t feel too well right no-“
“fuck y/n please don’t hang up… keep talking about whatever i don’t care but just.. please k-keep talking. i’m sorry, i’m listening i p-promise.” she interrupted in such a desperate voice, kinda whining in the process as she was breathing heavily into the mic.
you were dumbfounded. this was all so strange.. was she in danger or something? why would she ask you to just keep talking if she was, though? you just sat there for a moment, silent, a confused look plastered on your face.
until it clicked. oh.
oh.
the heavy panting.. the shake in her voice.. begging for you to keep talking.. the slight whimpering??? your stomach pleasantly twisted at the thought, was she actually..?
a smirk began to form.
“aeri..” you pause, contemplating actually asking the question. then,
“are you touching yourself right now?”
no response, just a desperate sigh. she was probably trying to think of an excuse. oh that poor girl. “oh my god you totally are.” you said, feeling like teasing her some more.
“i’m sorry y/n, i - fuck - i just missed you so- mmh..so much i couldn’t help it i’m sorry-.” she whined out.. you were imagining the look she had on her face right now, head probably buried in the pillow.
yet in another whiny voice, “this was a bad i-idea i have practice later and.. fuckfuckfuck-“ is what comes out of her mouth, almost inaudible due to how quiet she was being, careful as to not let the other members next door overhear.
you couldn’t lie, you weren’t expecting her to act like this. she never would say kinky shit to you directly, let alone do it in your company. you guys were close, so you talked about sexual things sometimes, but it was all in good fun. having her masturbate on a call got you unexpectedly and indescribably turned on.
“fuck practice aeri, describe what you’re doing.” you asked, getting undeniably hornier by every small noise she let out.
she exhaled, “i’m - ah - fingering m-myself..”
you slowly unbuttoned your jeans as you were listening to her response, “with how many fingers?” you add.
“t-two..” she panted yet again, your hand already getting into your panties and closer to your cunt.
“are you imagining they’re mine?” you spread apart your pussy lips, gently rubbing on your folds, feeling how wet you already were from her. you exhaled from relief.
she whimpered and squirmed at your words, knowing her, she was most definitely feeling embarrassed right now. then, she let out a needy mhm in response to your question as she was pumping her fingers in and out of herself.
“words, baby.” you added.
“fuck y/n - yes i am..” she quietly moaned out.
“good girl.” you praise, earning a cute little whimper from her. fuck, you couldn’t help it, hearing her pretty moans and knowing that she was touching herself to your voice made you lose it.
you inserted your own fingers into your aroused cunt, letting out a sigh of relief as you were finally doing something about the pool that was growing in between your legs ever since you figured out that your best friend was masturbating to your voice. holy shit, not even the greatest porno ever made could get you this aroused.
then, you heard a chuckle from the other side of the line. “d-did i get you horny?” she teased.
“no shit you did.” you shakily confessed as you could hear her quietly moan, “you sound so good.” you added.
“fuuck i wish i was there with you right now.” she confessed back, her voice obviously still very shaky.
“what would you - mmh - do if y-you were?” you wanted her to explain every little detail, to ramble on and on about what she was thinking of right now.
she slowed down on the fingering, as if it was really going to maximize her thinking, “w-well.. for starters..
i’d probably pin down you on the bed.. get on top of you and m-make out with you, slowly letting my - god - hands roam your entire body as i move my mouth further down. feeling the pressure from your knee in between my thighs..”
her voice started getting shakier while your cunt got just as wet hearing her describe the scene, god you needed to see her face, you needed to see how she was probably squirming at the sensation, how desperate she was getting just from imagining all of it. you needed to see it for yourself.
“aeri.” you shakily let out.
before she could even choke out a response,
“can you get on facetime?”
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lillylvjy · 1 year
Note
Wilbur getting upset because he doesn't see you at his concert when you'd promised you'd be there, only for you to have been backstage the entire time????
So sorry this took so long….. burned out things 🤭
But this is so good gapple!! And I enjoyed writing it
Warnings// kissing, making out, swearing, a little hint of angst, sexual innuendos, but nothing big! Tell me if I missed anything:)
Not edited and I tried adding the rest of the band but I don’t like that part at all😔
True love (and understanding)
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“Wilbur! I swear I’ll be there! I just won’t be there for sound check. I’ll be there before you go onstage. I promise.” You promised to Wil as he put his guitar on his back and looked at you.
“Ok. I just really want you to be there. It’s a big gig.” He said while grabbing his bag and coming back over to you.
“I know! And I’ll be there. I promise. This won’t take long.” You said pointed at your work you have to finish by tonight. Of course your boss gives you loads of work to do on the day of one of the biggest gigs their doing this year. James was opening for them today and there were going to be news reporters there today too. Wilbur was stressed and he needed you there with him. It’s like when he looks at you, he knows everything will be ok no matter what.
“You better be. I need my before-gig kiss. It’s my good luck charm.” He said, with a smile on his face.
You took his hands in yours. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll be there cheering you on.” You kissed his knuckles. He smiled at you as he took his hand and placed it on your cheek.
“I love you.” He said while leaning down and gently putting your lips together. The kiss was shorter than he would’ve liked it to be but you were shooing him out the door.
“I love you too. But you need to go before the guys get mad at you again for being late.” You opened the door for him as he rolled his eyes and huffed.
“They can’t blame for wanting to love on you!” He whined as he turned around to look at you. You smiled and raised your eyebrows. “Ok fine, I’m leaving. I’ll see you later darling.” Wilbur leaned down and gave you one last peck on the lips before walking off.
You sighed and went back over to the dining table. Let’s do this thing.
A couple hours later and Wilbur texted you that sound check went well and they have an hour until the band went on.
Shit. You still have around 2 dozen more pages to do.
You quickly do the pages as fast, yet efficiently, as you can.
30 minutes.
You submit the work and close your laptop as you sprint to grab your coat and purse as fast as you can, lock the apartment up and drive to the place.
10 minutes.
You check your phone as you curse yourself for not finishing faster. You rush to the side of the building and open the door into the back rooms.
You rushed around trying to find then band until you ran into Jack.
“Jack! Where’s Wilbur?!” You said, out of breath and rushed.
“Oh uh! They’re already on stage I think. Why?” He asked looking at you concerned.
“No! No,no,no! He’s going to hate me.” You said looking at your watch.
1 minute.
Shit!
“Ok, thank you I’ll see you in a bit! I promise!” You yelled as you ran to the stage.
You say James and ran up to me as you heard “Concrete” start to play.
“Shit.” You said as you frowned.
“Y/n? Where have you been?” James asked you, knowing about the before show ritual. “Wilbur had a nervous break down and almost cancelled the show!” James explains to you.
“I know! I’m sorry! I’m not very happy either! I got caught up with work.” You explained as you looked at Wilbur.
He didn’t look as pumped up as usual. Don’t get me wrong, he still looked excited and thrilled! But there was something missing. He looked upset. To say the least. Disappointed. You couldn’t blame him. You promised. You never broke promises. And he doesn’t even know you’re here.
“Just surprise him afterwards. It’ll make him feel 10 time better. He’ll have his “after show” adrenaline.” You laughed. One thing you loved about Wilbur preforming was his after show adrenaline. He was like a bee. Buzzing all about the show. How much he loved it, how they all played good, what they could’ve done better and what he could’ve done better. He just always had something to add. And you loved it. You loved how he payed attention to the little things . To the minor details barely anyone would catch. That’s one of your favorite things about him.
After the show, you waited for the band to come off stage with James. As Mark came off first, he stopped in his tracks when he saw you, but quickly jogged up to you and hugged you with a smile. You didn’t really mind how sweaty they’d all be. You were used to it.
“Ah! You were here the whole time, weren’t ya?!” He asked you.
“Yeah! Well I came a little bit late but I was here! You guys did amazing like always!” You smiles at Mark as he got pushed to the side.
Joe.
“You almost made him cancel the show…..” he said while smiling. “But I swear we could all tell you were here. Damn you y/n! You have a radiating energy!” Joe said while hugging you. You laughed at him as he went back to the back with the others.
Ash hugged you and looked at you like he needed to talk to you later so you nodded and saluted to him as he laughed. He saluted back and walked off, doing the lovejoy handshake with you.
You looked up and saw Wilbur talking to some fans still. James patted you on the back and told you to follow him. “We’re going to act like we’re having a conversation and see if he notices you. I don’t know how this will play out.” James said as you followed him to the back room where everyone else was and took you into a corner and just started talking to you. About cats. Why cats?
“James are we really talking about cats right now?” You asked him as he looked behind you with a smile.
“Well. Your cat is coming up to you right now.”
“Wait, what do you MEAN!” You squealed the last word as someone picked you up and spun you around. Once you were on the ground you turned around and smiled up at the person. “Hi Wilbur.”
“Hi love. When in the hell did you get here?! I almost-“
“Cancelled the show, I know! And I’m sorry for not being here. I lost track of time and I’m so sorry because I’m always here and I always give you kiss before hand and it helps, at least I think it does, and I didn’t get to and you were probably so nervous and I suck-“
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. You do not suck at being my partner! You were busy, I get that. If anything I should be mad at myself. I let you and everyone else think you had to be here. As much as it is very nice!” You both laughed. “I don’t need it. All I need, is to know that you’re cheering me, us, on. Don’t blame yourself please. I love you. So so much.” Wilbur finished as he leaned down and kissed you. He holds your waist as you lean up to meet his lips and deepen the kiss. As you ran your hands through his hair, his grip on you tightened as you both continued.
“Ok. Maybe not in the middle of the room where everyone can see you.” James said in a monotoned voice.
You both break part quickly and look at James. He had a smirk on his face as he winked at you both. “There’s a storage closet back there. I’m just saying.” He says as he walks off. You laugh as you look back over at Wilbur. He had a glint in his eye. It bordered on playful and deviant. Your face fell as you shook your head.
“Wilbur no!” You pleaded, but he was already pulling you towards the closet.
“Have fun love birds!” James yelled.
“Screw you!” You yelled back.
Wilbur opened the closet and pulled you inside. You looked at him with raised eyebrows. “So…. What are we doing in here?” You asked.
“One to get away from them. And 2, so I can do this without interruptions.” He smirked as he leaned down and kissed you. You smiled into the kiss as you pulled him down to meet his lips more.
Before anything could happen, there was banging on the door. “Never mind! It’s going to have to wait! We’re going out to eat!” James yelled.
Wilbur groaned as you laughed. As you both walked out you pulled Wilbur down by his collar and whispered in his ear. “Later love. I promise.” You said to him as you smirked at him and walked over to Aria.
Wilbur was just standing there with a smirk on his face.
“What happened?” James asked. “I need to know.”
Taglist: @deadphantomsociety @aimi-chann @jadeissues
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biancadjarin · 1 year
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🌾a Roll in the Hay🌾
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pairing : perv!em x innocent!countrygirl!reader
warnings : graphic sex, p-in-v, breeding kink (sorta?)
a/n : hoo boy ok so I’ve been thinking about country girl reader and Eddie for a while, went a little crazy on this one. It’s kinda long, but I hope you enjoy! I have a lot of WIPs and ideas for different types of Eddie’s but it really helps when you guys comment/like/reblog so I know what you want to read more of.🧡
MASTERLIST HERE
18+ !!!
You hear the crunch of his boots on the gravel outside the barn, your hands finishing up a braid in your horse’s mane. You feel the excited butterflies flutter awake in your tummy, a smile breaking across your face.
“There’s my pretty little baby.” Eddie coos as he wraps his arms around your waist, breathing in your sweet scent deeply. You’re so fuckin’ cute and innocent. In your sweet little blue and white gingham dress, a little bow tied between your boobs. And you never wear a bra. Fuck does Eddie love that. He swept his eyes down your frame, your soft thighs leading to the smooth skin of your calves, frilly little socks peeking out of the top of your boots.
He holds out a tiny bouquet of wildflowers he picked on his walk from his van to here. Tiny white and yellow star-lily’s, a baby pink prairie rose, a little bundle of baby’s breath. He’s always doing little sweet things to make you smile.
You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a tight hug. “Teddy Bear!” You squeak, nicknaming him that after he won you a little blue bear at the carnival. He squeezes the jiggly skin of your asscheeks in his big, calloused hands and lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist, kissing you like he hasn’t seen you in a week. It’s only been about 18 hours. He spins while he’s holding you, making you giggle and get dizzy. “Put me down, Teddy!” You say as more giggles bubble out of your throat.
This has been going on for a few weeks, after you met Eddie and his friends at the Hawkins carnival, you two couldn’t be separated. He kissed you at the top of the ferris wheel, telling you you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever met. And he meant it.
“Why have I never seen you around before?” He’d asked, lips leaving wet kisses along your jaw. You giggle into his hair, the feeling of his big hands holding your hips, one of his hands sliding your legs over his thigh.
“I live an hour outside of this town. On a farm.” You reply breathlessly. He pulled back, his big brown eyes looking like a sad puppy’s. “An hour?” He sounded disappointed. He twirls your hair around a finger, his other hand playing with the hem of your tiny Levi’s shorts.
You nod at him, waiting for him to tell you that’s too far away for him to bother. He shrugs, “Guess I’m about to put a lot of miles on my van.” He says, pulling you into his chest, leather jacket arm closing around your shoulder, your head pressed against his shirt, his heart beating fast and the rumble of his voice in your ear. “I’m going to come see you so much, you’ll get sick of me.”
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So Eddie drops you down, still holding you close, his tight jeans and black sweater making him look extra cozy.
“Just missed you so much, babygirl. I hate when we’re apart.” He cupped your cheek and you smiled softly, leaning into his palm like a kitten being pet. “I missed you too Daddy.” That’s your favorite nickname for Eddie. His too. It sends a jolt right to his cock every time.
“So what do we want to do today?” Eddie asks, lacing his fingers with yours, swinging your hands gently. You two have gone to dinners, movies, concerts, taken long car rides. Anything to spend time together. But today, you have other plans.
“Mmm… I have an idea…” you sway nervously on your heels. “But I wanna show you something first.”
Eddie’s eyebrows raise curiously, nodding softly for you to continue. You take a deep breath, “okay. well I went to the starcourt mall last week and bought something for you.” “For me? Baby, you know you don’t have to buy me things.” He starts to chastise you.
“I think you’ll like this gift, Teddy Bear.” You push him back gently, telling him to sit on a hay bale. You lift the skirt of your dress up to your waist, revealing the lingerie you bought.
Eddie releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His eyes go wide as he looks toward the opening of the barn, making sure no one can see you two. You giggle, “no one’s home, daddy, don’t worry. s’just me and you.”
Eddie’s brain short circuits as he drinks you in. His soft innocent little bunny, your sun-kissed skin, covered in peach fuzz and goosebumps. A sheer pink lace thong covers your smooth core, little flowers, leaves and strawberries embroidered in the fabric. A garter cinches at your waist, thin ribbons circling around your thighs. Silky pink bows hanging off your hips.
“Wow baby, fuck.” “You like it?” You ask, peeking down. “Like it? I’m losing my mind over it.” He says, hands coming out to pull you towards him. You rest your hands on his shoulders as he traces his fingertips over the ribbons, so dainty and small in his hands.
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. Or anyone.” He says, looking up at you. The sun setting outside the barn is sending golden amber beams in through the door and Eddie’s caramel colored eyes are sparkling as he looks at you.
“What are you thinking about, daddy?” You ask, sweet as peach pie. “Shit,” he takes a deep breath, pulling your tummy close to his face, his lips kissing any bit of skin they can reach. “I don’t know if I should say what I’m thinking about.” He laughs.
“Are you thinking about fucking me?” You ask nonchalantly. He looks up at you, hands gripping your waist. “You can’t just say stuff like that, babygirl. You trying to kill me?” You giggle at the look on his face. “No, Eddie, I’m serious.” You say, shaking his shoulders softly and wiggling your hips to emphasize your point. Eddie watches as your hips and thighs recoil at the movement, he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold himself back and be a gentleman.
“But I thought you wanted to wait until we’re married?” He asks, sliding back on the hay bale to pull you into his lap. You look off to the side, clearly conflicted with what you were raised to believe and what you really want.
Eddie is a perv but he’s also so in love with you, it makes his stomach ache. He would never want to push you to do anything you didn’t want to do but to be honest, this whole ‘waiting until marriage’ thing has been kind of a bitch. He’s gotten used to rubbing your clothed pussy against his boner for a release, feeling guilty about it every time. But he needs to get off. And you make him so horny.
You whispering “Well maybe we can do… other things.” is all the ammo Eddie needs. He pulls your dress off over your shoulders, watching as your round perky boobs bounce back once the fabric is gone. He groans as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth, eyelids hooded as he palms and squeezes your boobs. He lets each fingertip graze over your nipples as you let your head fall back, tingles all over your body. He pinches your hard nipples a little too roughly, a loud moan escaping your throat.
He smiles slowly, “Oh, don’t tell me you liked that. Don’t tell me that because I won’t be able to control myself.” You nod, “Felt good, daddy.” You whimper. His eyes roll back in his head as he takes your nipple in his mouth, his tongue sucking and laving over it while he tweaks your other one. He switches back and forth between them until they’re nice and wet, his lips glimmering with saliva. You rake your nails through his hair, scratching gently at the nape of his neck.
“I feel tingly down there again, Eddie. Remember how I told you last time?” Oh he remembers. Almost had to pull his dick out and stroke it in front of you when you told him. You had been making out, your little hips wiggling, your pussy getting drenched. Eddie loves the fact that he can get you so turned on. He loves that he’s the one who gets to introduce you to all this stuff. He wanted to touch you that day but held himself back. But he’s done holding back.
He pulls a flannel blanket off the top of the hay and lays it out onto the dirty barn floor. He instructs you to lay down, while he unclasps your garter belt and slips your panties down your legs. He sniffs them taking a slow, deep breath, making you giggle and blush before he slips them in his back pocket.
You feel totally bare in front of him, legs spread wide open for him to settle in between. He crouches down, eyes hooded and mouth hanging open as he takes in the beautiful flower between your legs. Pussy lips all pink and puffy, little nub of your clit sticking out under it’s hood just begging for attention. Your tiny fluttering hole is leaking clear, milky fluid that has his mouth watering, he licks his lips to stop from drooling.
He lets his fingers dance through your folds, gathering all your slick. You tremble at his fingers, thighs starting to come together. “Oh none of that baby,” he says pushing your thighs down with his palms. “so sensitive aren’t you?” he asks before landing a little spank to your clit. You moan loudly, hands cupping your breasts and squeezing hard.
Eddie’s in awe of you, so perfect and pure laying open for him. He gets down on his stomach and hooks his forearms under your thighs, guiding your ankles over his shoulders. “Gonna help you get nice and open for me, ok baby? Gonna get you nice and ready.” You bite your lip and nod, eyes closing as his lips trail little wet kisses up your inner thigh.
He spreads open your lips and spits directly on your cunt, watching it drip down and mix with your juices. His mouth attaches to your clit while he carefully, slowly slips his middle finger into your tight hole. His thick finger curls upwards, finding that special spot deep inside you.
You rake your fingers through his hair, pulling his face closer to you and moaning his name. He smiles against your pussy, peeking his head up to admire your fucked out face and tell you how sweet you taste.
He goes back to licking and sucking at your clit sloppily, his wrist working faster to fuck his finger in and out of you. He pulls his finger out to dip the tip of his tongue inside you, so warm and tight around his pink muscle. “Daddy, feels so good, need your finger again.” He dips his first and middle fingers in this time, seeing how much you can take.
“Fuck baby, your pussy’s practically pulling in my fingers.” He groans. He flips his hand so his palm is up and he starts pistoning his fingers in and out of you. Your legs start to shake and he holds them down, fingers squeezing at the flesh of your thighs.
You cry out his name, a tense spasm feeling starting deep within. His thumb starts to strum fast circles on your clit, “c’mon baby. show me you’re a good girl. know you can do it.” He says, out of breath. You squeeze your eyes shut, all sound fading away as your first orgasm comes crashing over you, each wave of pleasure more intense than the last. You cry out, repeating Eddie’s name as you gush onto his hand.
“Fuuuuck babygirl, that’s it. Did so good for me, so fucking perfect.” He says as you come down from your high, catching your breath. “Oh my god, daddy.” you say, exhausted smile on your face.
Eddie palms at his hard length through his jeans, if he doesn’t stop neglecting it soon, he’s going to lose his mind. He leans over you, kissing you deeply, tongue sliding over yours. You run your fingers up his chest under his shirt, helping him pull it off. He pushes his hips into yours, the rough fabric of his jeans scratching at your soft skin. “I need to know how it feels to be inside you baby, just for a minute. I promise I won’t put more than just the tip in. Please.” He begs you, his hands already unzipping his jeans, unbuckling his belt. “Just for a minute?” You clarify. “Cause you know I’m not on the pill, Teddy Bear.”
He growls, “Just a quick minute baby,” he kisses the tip of your nose, “I promise, I just need to feel you wrapped around me.” You nod at him, sweet little smile on your lips. He shimmies down his pants and boxers, just to his thighs.
He shudders as he reaches down to grab his cock, giving it a few tugs as he kisses your neck and whispers a thank you in your ear. Your eyes wander down to look at it. “It’s pretty like you, daddy. Pink like your lips.” You giggle. He smiles, kissing you softly as his weight comes down on you. He looks down between your bodies, letting the mushroom head push through your slick folds. “Gonna be a little bit of a stretch, bunny. But it’ll feel better soon.” He says before pushing his cock all the way in to the hilt. You hold back a moan, focusing on when it’s going to stop hurting.
Eddie’s mind goes blank. Being inside you is more addicting than he thought it would be. He slowly pulls all the way out before sliding back in, just as deeply as before. He lets out a whimper as his face gets nuzzled into the crook of your neck, one hand on your hip, the other holding your cheek.
Your gummy walls hug him tight, like you were made for him. He lets his hips start to hump in and out of you, never fully pulling out, just enough to feel his balls slap against your ass. He keeps going and going and going, whimpering and moaning your name telling you how good you feel.
The painful stretching feeling is gone and all that’s left is pleasure, Eddie’s big thick cock filling you up just right, so much better than his fingers, which you didn’t think was possible.
Eddie’s hands grab behind your lower back, hugging you close to him as he fucks up into you. “So fucking tight baby, never gonna let this pussy go. Gonna make you mine forever.” He grunts as he fucks you hard and deep.
He’s starting to sweat, mumbling curses and praises to you. It feels so good you don’t want it to stop but you start to get worried. He’ll stop before it goes too far you think. His hips pump faster into you, wet sounds and skin on skin slaps echoing through the large barn. “Can’t pull out-can’t. Feels too good.” He chokes out. You whimper, hands pushing his chest, little “no”s leaving your mouth as another orgasm creeps up on you.
His movements get faster and sloppier, short broken moans leaving his mouth as his eyes screw shut, his forehead coming down to meet yours. You open your mouth as a silent moan comes from deep within you, coming at the same time as him. Thick ropes of his cum shoot inside you, his hips flush to yours as he pumps every last bit of his seed into you with a shudder.
You look at him angrily, “Eddie!” “What?” He says, laughing a bit at how cute you sound when you’re angry. “You said only for a minute!” “I’m sorry, it felt too good. Been waiting so long for that.” “You lied to me.” You said, eyes starting to water. He tuts at you, smile leaving his face. “No, no, no bunny, I tried to pull out, I really did. I’m sorry.”
A fat tear rolls down your cheek, “You didn’t try! Now what am I going to do? What if-what if-” you choke out through sobs. “It’ll be fine baby. You’re not pregnant. And if you are, we’ll be ok. All three of us.” You look at him with your big wet eyes, starting to relax and breathe normally again and Eddie smiles softly. He doesn’t regret what he did because he’d do it again. He meant what he said. He’ll make you his forever.
“Yeah?” You ask him. “Of course. Whatever happens, I’ll always be here. No matter what.” He says, thumb swiping away the trail of tears from your cheeks. He kisses you softly, “I love you, Bunny.” You smile, “I love you too, Eddie.”
.
.
.
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harrysdaydream-tpwk · 10 months
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“I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch- H.S”
summary: Harry and you argue after his show at Wembley and he gets jealous and pissy. Angst ensues
warnings: arguments, swearing, angst with a happy ending
pairing: harry styles x fem!reader
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
The door slammed shut behind him, his footsteps heavy, even on the carpeted floor. You sighed, tired and weary. It had been a long night and by the looks of it, it was about to get even longer.
Harry huffed, taking off his shoes with more force than necessary, throwing them in the general direction of his open suitcase. He wasn’t wearing the colourful outfit anymore, looking much more like yours in the black nike shorts and worn-out t-shirt you’ve seen far too many times on him. You stood in the doorway between the ensuite bathroom and the bedroom, watching him quietly as he ran his fingers through his brown hair repeatedly-noting it had get even longer since the last time you saw him.
He looked up at you finally, his eyes stormy and half-lidded. He was mad, furious even and you weren’t totally sure why. You hadn’t seen him for three weeks, the tour taking a toll on your relationship and you had hoped this night would’ve at least be a change to your boring office life, a moment with the man you loved so dearly.
“What is your problem?”, you said demanding, sounding harsher than intended. Your arms were crossed in front of your chest, you yourself still dressed in the outfit you had chosen for tonight’s show. A pink, puffy dress, matching cowboy boots and hat. Hell, you had even put on a boa, going all out.
“My-“, he breathed out, before getting louder, “My problem? What the hell is your problem? We haven’t seen each other in almost a month and you already go around flirting with other guys? At my own damn show nonetheless?” He stood up from where he was sat on the king sized bed, taking a step closer to you.
“What?”, you sputtered unbelievingly. “What the fuck are you even talking about? All I did was talk to your mum and your sister, I haven’t seen either of them since Christmas and you just accuse me of things that didn’t even happen? Fuck you.” Tears gathered in your eyes and he noticed, faltering slightly.
“I saw you”, he started, pointing his finger at you,” Talking to him. I don’t know who he was, I don’t even care. I just know you were laughing pretty hard at his jokes or whatever he was telling you. A little too much to just be friendly.”
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. Ryan-“
He interrupted you before you could even finish. “Oh, Ryan”, he mocked, “Is that his name? Gotta be careful you don’t start moaning his name the next time we fuck.”
He was getting really worked up now, the vain on his forehead popping and you were getting angrier by the minute too. He had always been jealous, even a little possessive, and it was getting on your nerves.
“Ryan is an old friend from school, you asshole. You know him, I invited him to my birthday party two years ago. He’s gay, Harry, so he’s not interested in me and I’m not interested in him. It’s just a coincidence, he told me you were really nice to him when he met you and that he wanted to support you. Although, I don’t expect him to think so highly of you if he knew what you’re throwing at me right now.” You took a deep breath in, the tears finally breaching free. You couldn’t keep them in any longer.
You were exhausted, travelling from home to see him at Wembley, his concert of two hours and then this argument on top of it. The weak and selfish part of you just wanted him to hold you, while the bigger part just wanted to yell at him some more. You missed him and he was treating you so unfairly.
“I missed you”, you whispered, “I just wanted to spend the night with you peacefully, you’re my home, Harry. Why don’t you ever make me feel like I’m yours too?” You let out a sob, slapping your hand over your mouth defeated.
“Oh. Oh, Y/N.” His eyes were soft now, staring at you unnervingly. “Here, sit down, my love. You look like you’ll fall over any minute.” He guided you to a chair nearby, pushing you down gently.
“I’m so sorry”, he whispered, kneeling before you. His face was illuminated by the lights of London outside the big hotel window. “This tour has taken a toll on me, I missed you so much more, Y/N, you have to believe me. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, I just got so upset over the thought of you with someone else. I’m so selfish, I wish I could have you by my side everyday, you know? I love you and I never want to hurt you, not like this. Not over something I have so obviously perceived wrongly.”
You laughed wetly, your make-up probably smudged, making you look like a hot mess. “You know, I’m starting to think that you were right when you sang that you were just an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit that he’s sorry.” He chuckled quietly, wiping a tear from your cheek.
“I forgive you”, you said, kissing his palm, which was still holding your face gently, “But never say something like this to me again. I’d never cheat on you, not in a million chances. You’re my everything.”
“And you’re mine. We’ve got to figure out a way to see each other more, even when I’m touring and you’re working. I can’t go a day without you, without missing your beautiful face.”
You smiled softly, leaning down and he took the invitation to press a gentle, closed- mouthed kiss to your lips, a promise you understood, you accepted.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
lmk what you think<3 haven’t written in a while so i’m a bit rusty! i’m also working on a larger project that should hopefully be up in a few weeks. until then i’ll try my luck with smaller blurbs and one shots. enjoy!<3
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poraphia · 5 months
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"Cooking Stream!"
➵ PAIRING! cc!wilbur x chef!streamer!reader
➵ CREATING! 12.22.23 | 3167 words
➵ CONTAINING! wholesome cooking, reader is a chef streamer, wil is on tour, wil and reader are longterm friends
➵ SAYING! i thought this would be super cute to write. a little friends to lovers never hurt anyone hehe. also hope you like the little banner! i dont really do those so this is a first. also not proofread aaa sorry
My masterlist :)
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"How long have you been waiting to do that?" "Since we met up at the airport.."
“Hey, Wil, I’m about to start the stream. Are you ready?” I asked Wil. From my stream viewer, I could see Wil’s lengthy figure making the barest silhouette from the dark doorframe he was standing at. He insisted on making “an entrance” for my stream, even if it meant standing ominously in the background of my kitchen.
“Maybe.” Wil replied blankly. I rolled my eyes, seeing that he was already in ‘bit’ mode.
I’ve been a cooking streamer for quite some time now. I share and teach people on Twitch my recipes live and created this community where everyone can feel safe and happy to learn. Occasionally, I even invite some of my friends to cook with me, Wilbur being no exception. This was our first time seeing each other in person, and Wilbur suggested that before his concert (which would be tomorrow) he wanted to do a cooking stream with me. It was like the stars aligned because after such a busy day, Wil specifically had a couple hours of free time to hang out with my community and me.
I stopped my intro music and took down my startup stream screen to reveal my camera, which showcased me, my kitchen, and Wilbur who was just barely visible on camera.
“Hi, friends! Welcome to the stream! Sorry for the delay, our special guest sadly couldn’t make it.” I said faking a distraught frown. I tried my best to avoid looking at chat, but just from a quick glance I could see spams of terror as they pointed out the figure behind me. I picked up a bowl and began my usual intro. “So, my lovelies, grab your bowls!” I reached over and grabbed my spatula. “Grab your utensils! and—” I looked around, acting confused. “Huh, I wonder where my chef hat is..”
Wil arose from the shadows, stomping toward me with his limbs stiff and a blank expression on his face.
“Oh, there’s my chef hat!” I exclaimed, smiling while looking at Wil. In a swift, goofy motion, Wil ducked his head down, making the hat land straight into the bowl I was holding. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing as Wil tried a desperate attempt to put the hat on my head. Once the hat laid lopsided on me, he turned around with his hands on his hips.
“Hi guys,” he smiled. “As you can see, I will not be the one leading this operation.”
“Yeah, they know.” I mocked jokingly. I placed the bowl and spatula onto the table to fix the hat. “If you guys don’t know, this is Wilbur Soot, but he doesn’t stream much anymore. So frankly, I don’t even know why I invited him.” That snarky comment made Wil nudge me on the shoulder.
“Hey! I’m still relevant on the world web!” Wil exclaimed.
“You know I’m kidding!” I laughed. “But Wil and I met like a loooong way back. Like you were doing your little livestream concerts?” I turned to look at him as he nodded to confirm my words. “And now look at you! In the middle of a whole worldwide tour!” Though he rolled his eyes in response he still had that familiar, dimple smitten smirk on his face.
I was proud to see Wilbur at his position now. I remember all those late-night calls when we would talk about what we wanted to be in few years' time. We were only small baby streamers when we first met. I did cooking streams in my parents’ kitchen and the townhouse he used to stream in was sold off long ago. Now we were in my own kitchen with tens and thousands of people watching us live, and tomorrow, thousands of more were going to watch Wil perform with his guitar and his voice.
It was time to start cooking. Today we were making strawberry cookies with white chocolate chips. I started off by giving directions as to what measurements you would need. Before I do my cooking streams, I like to post what ingredients would be needed the day because sometimes my fans would post selfies of them following my streams live while also cooking.
“So first, lets stir in our dry ingredients, yes?” I looked at Wil, who only eagerly nodded in silence. “So, of course, like all streams, I like to do my measurements while live just in case anyone needs time to catch up. So I hope everyone has their measuring utensils, because I’m about to give the measurements! And of course, I will be providing them on the screen as well.” I stated, looking at my OBS display.
Wil and I began to prep the ingredients. Each time I stated a measurement, Wil would scramble around the kitchen for the key components before emptying the powder into the bowl. I let out a small chuckle. “Wilbur, take your time, seriously! We’re supposed to be enjoying the moment.” I exclaimed.
“But but—!” Wil protested.
“Wil!”
With a defeated sigh, he slowed his movements as he scurried around the kitchen for the rest of the materials. As I stirred the flour and sugar together, I waited for Wil to come with the baking powder and salt. In the meantime, I started to look at chat.
“(y/n) is smiling a bit too much yall”
“YES WILBUR TREAT OUR CHEF RIGHT!!”
“is this (y/n)’s bf?”
Though it’s safe to say Wilbur and I had never had feelings for each other, the comments still flustered me. To prevent myself from getting more flushed, I pointed my attention back to my mixing bowl. Suddenly, Wilbur came behind me, holding the measuring cups.
“Ah, Wil—”
“This would be more an efficient way of getting our ingredients mixed in, no?” Wilbur suggested. His arms were on either side of my body, sprinkling in both the salt and baking powder carefully as his chest pressed against my back. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks from such an intimate position but tried my best not to ignore it. After he was done, he set the utensils aside and placed his hands on either side of my wrists, stirring with my movements.
Despite us both knowing that the chat was going crazy at this point, we both enjoyed the moment. Ever since Wil and I met each other in person for the first time, we had this habit of messing around with each other in physical ways. Within the first hour of us being together, we were running around the city, climbing over each other while sitting down, and Wilbur at one point threw me over his shoulder because I was “walking too slow.” It all felt completely natural to us. However, hat made me most flustered about it now in this very moment was the fact that thousands of people were watching us live!
We proceeded with mixing in the ingredients. Wilbur helped combined the wet ingredients as he gradually poured them into the mixing bowl I was stirring (of course, he again insisted that he stood over me as he poured for “maximum efficiency”). After some time with the spatula, took it out and turned towards the camera.
“Alright, so at this point of the process, it’s going to get a little hard to stir the dough, so—” I glanced to my laptop’s stream viewer and saw that Wil was doing silly faces and gestures, completely taking the attention away from me. I watched as he opened his mouth wide and inched closer to me, almost trying to bite me. Without thinking, I took my finger to get a scoop of the batter before turning around and smudging it into Wil’s face.
Wilbur stared at me in shock as a smug grin rested on my face. Swiftly, he took the spatula from my hands, gathered a large glob with his fingers, and smeared it all over my face. My cheek was now lathered with the think substance as I stared at him, bewildered. It was now Wil’s turn to start smiling with his dimples prominent as they could be. “What, you started it!” Wil argued, putting his hands up. My eyes slowly trailed to the open flour bag he had left on the counter. It was as if Wil followed my gaze, because as soon as I reached over to that bag, Wil was on the run.
“What the— Come back here, you prick!” I cried. I grabbed a fistful of flour before aimlessly chasing him around the island counter. His legs were far too long to outrun me, but that also meant he was rather clumsy with his movement as well. We returned in front of the camera when Wil began to lose balance after turning a sharp corner. I took my chance and ran in front of him before dusting him with a fistful of flour all over his apron and face.
I fell into a fit of laughter, clutching my stomach. “Holy shit, Wil! You look ridiculous!” I said in between gasps. Wil stared in utter horror, but soon enough, he started laughing as well when he saw his reflection from the stream viewer.
“This is going to be a nightmare to get out of my hair, (y/n), what have you done?!” He cried. It sent me more into hysterics, laughing as I held onto the counter for dear life. “I’m going to try and wash this out now. You better hope and pray for your restroom.” Wil said, waving me off as he made his way to my bathroom.
“In the top left drawer in my room are my baggy clothes you could wear!” I called out. I carried on with the stream, leaving where I left off. I got my stand mixer and turned on the machine so that it could start stirring on its own. I also cleaned up around the area and washed the batter off my face before reading the chat.
“Alright, chat, how we feeling about this stream, huh? Everyone doing good following along? Do you guys like Wil?” I asked. I scanned the chat, smiling at some of the comments.
“Wil and (y/n) are an iconic duo bruh”
“YES CHEF WE LOVE THE STREAM CHEF”
“I’m doing good following along :D”
“WILBUR IS SO FUNNY”
By the time the dough was done mixing, so was Wilbur, who had just finished washing up and changing his clothes. He wore a baggy Artic-Monkeys tee with gray sweatpants that suited him perfectly. “Is the dough done?” Wil said. His hair was a curly mess most likely from wetting it then drying it with a towel. His glasses rested on the bridge of his nose with his eyes just barely visible. Something about this look, whether it be his disheveled hair or the fact that he was wearing my clothes, made me blush a little.
“—Oh,” I muttered, barely realizing that he asked me a question. “Yeah, it’s done, we could start placing them on the tray now.” He nodded before coming behind me, placing hands on my waist. “Ah—! Wilbur!” he buried his face into the crook of my neck. With a defeated sigh, I turned off the machine and removed the bowl from the stand mixer. “Come on,” I said. “Help me shape the cookies.”
“Yes, chef!” he enthusiastically remarked. He stood back up, and we were back on business. We proceeded to work together to shape the cookies, making light conversation while also taking some questions from the chat. Wilbur talked about some stories he had on tour. He compared his experiences from when he used to do little stream performances to the big stage in front of thousands of people live.
Once we were done shaping the cookies, we placed the two trays into a preheated oven. I did the dishes while Wilbur offered to tend to my chat. There something so.. Domestic about Wil and I cooking. It came naturally, as if this isn’t the first time we cooked together, and it certainly this wouldn’t be the last. I scrubbed the bowl clean as I thought about the warmth of Wilbur wrapping around my body. How he nuzzled his nose into my scent, then pulling away reluctantly. A small smile formed on my lips. Though I knew deep down that I’ve never felt that way about Wilbur, and I doubt that he felt that way with me, it was still such an ideal way of moving on with life.
“Hey, (y/n)?” Wilbur called out. I shook my head and turned around to face Wilbur.
“Yes?” I asked. I wiped my hands with a dry towel before taking my place next to Wilbur, who had his waist against the counter and his hands holding himself up.
“Chat wants to do a Q&A session with the both of us. I think they’re tired of hearing about my tour stories.” He chuckled.
“Hm, I don’t think they’re tired of you, rockstar,” I smiled. “but sure, let’s do a Q&A with the two of us.”
The chat proceeded casually, and we had a fun time answering some questions. We talked about how we first met, how we grew up together as streamers, and how life has been for us more. However, there was one reoccurring question that we tried to ignore for some time, but at this point, it was rapidly coming up.
“Do you have feelings for each other?” I read out loud.
Wil and I looked at each other. Maybe it was the delusions I had, but there was something so sincere in Wil’s eyes. His eyes almost sparkled under the kitchen warm light, and his brown eyes could easily be confused for a fresh cocoa harvested from the jungle. His eyes squinted like he wanted to tell me something, but before I could ask, he turned away.
“No.” He stated but rather reluctantly. “We’ve just been really good friends for these past years, right?” He turned to me again.
“Mhm,” I hummed. My gaze then drifted to the camera. “Chat, stop shipping us together, seriously! You guys are acting like this is the first time I’ve done a cooking stream with a guy! Shame on you, chat!” I playfully lectured. But in my mind sat some heavy thoughts. I wondered if the reason why Wil was so hesitant was because he felt uncomfortable with the topic. Worry flooded my head, hoping that I didn’t ruin his time on stream.
Ding!
The oven went off, meaning that the cookies were ready. “Ah, cookies are ready!” I beamed, lightning the mood. I looked through the drawers, looking for the oven mitts. However, none were to be found. Wil noticed my confusion and came up behind me, a bit more careful on distance this time.
“Is something wrong?” He asked. His hands were behind his back as he leaned down to talk to me.
“Yeah.. I can’t find the oven mitts. Hold on, I probably left them in the washing machine room.” I turned around to face him.
“Alright, I’ll be here.” He smiled. I smiled back before moving past him, leaving the kitchen and headed down the hall to the spare storage room I had. I opened the door and looked around, finding those beige oven mitts I would frequently use while baking something. Without realizing, Wilbur was treading down the hallway.
“Ugh, where are they..” I thought out loud. I dug through the dryer, seeing if they were hiding under the freshly warm clothes. Finally, I was able to achieve the oven mitts. I stood up properly and held the oven mitts as I kicked the dryer closed. I turned around to finally get back to the stream and Wilbur. I wonder if—
Before I could finish thinking, a hand was on a hip and another hand was under my chin. Those familiar brunette curls brushed against my forehead, as I looked up to see Wilbur. His glasses were pushed up so that his face could be close to mine without any trouble. His eyes were half-lidded, almost looked like they were longing. Sparks tingled in my chest as I stared at him. A gulp running through my throat.
“May I kiss you..?” He gently asked. His voice was so low, so sensual, it was like waking up next to him after a long night of cuddling. My face burned, but not a single nerve in my body told me that I should deny his request.
I placed the oven mitts onto the nearest surface, not daring to look away from him. I could feel him getting nervous because even through the dark lighting, I could see his face turning red as the corners of his mouth twitched. Before I could even register my movements, I cupped either side of his face, and pulled him into a kiss I didn’t even know how much I longed.
His body sunk into my touch as he held me close with weak warms. His lips, soft and pink, danced with mine with a hunger I never realized he had. They were desperate, yearning for my warmth. Little did I know my movements mimicked his with just as much desperation.
Reluctantly, we pulled away as we held each other tight and close to each other’s bodies. His eyes were clouded underneath his mess of hair and glasses, but a wide smile rested on his face.
“How.. How long were you waiting to do that..?” I asked, breathless.
“The moment we met up at the airport, honestly..” He chuckled. “Come on.. You have a stream to wrap up.” Wilbur walked out of the room. His hand held mine until he was enough distance away, even clutching to my middle finger before departing. I stared as he turned the corner, joyfully greeting the chat as if nothing happened.
I realized that my cheeks were aching from smiling too much. As I listened to Wil ramble some excuse to chat as to why it’s taking me forever to return, I grabbed the oven mitts and slid down the hallway.
Maybe there was a reason why all of this felt so right. How being with Wilbur just felt so natural. I was out of frame, but I couldn’t help but stare at him.
Yeah.. I could get used to this.
»»———-  ———-««
a / n ~ aaahhh hope yall enjoyed! notes of all kind are appreciated :D and like always, thank you so much for the support.
basically tagging anyone that interacted with my previous posts whoopsies @listenheresweaty @buns-and-butter @mysticalsoot @tiredandbisexual @phxntomsdusk @themonsterunderurmom
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kimvvantae · 7 months
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the misadventures list; 5 (m)
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➜ the night shift can be very wild at times. you’ve witnessed so many strange, concerning and absurd situations happen inside the tiny convenience store that you could make a long list with everything that got you stunned - and the situation that takes the prize of being the weirdest of your list is the night a desperate millionaire, for the sake of saving his fortune, asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend.
pairing: playboy!jimin x (f) reader
genre: smut, comedy (?), fluff • fake dating au
warnings: toxic parents. brief mentions of homofobia. alcohol consumption. explicit sexual content (semi-public sex, oral m&f receiving, throat fucking, unprotected sex, praise kink kinda, cum play, dirty talk). made-up celebrities. me trying to be funny i guess
rating: 18+
word count: 20k
A/N: i can't thank you guys enough for waiting for this update! i know it's been a while but i hope you enjoy this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it!! as always, feedback is MUCH appreciated <3
➜  Chapters: check out masterlist in bio!
« playlist »
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It’s almost 6PM.
Jimin is not happy about it.
The change in his expression as he checks the hour on his phone is subtle, but you see it as clear as day. The smile that remained on his lips and vanished from his eyes. He sighs, putting the phone inside his back pocket, and goes back to saying his goodbyes to everyone at the pier.
It makes you forget for a second that you were in the process of saving your own number on Jane’s phone.
You look down once again, fingers hesitating over the keyboard. Damn. You weren’t supposed to be making friends. Jane is the lesser problem right here - she doesn’t know anyone from Jimin’s family except Jimin himself. The problem is that many of Jungkook’s friends are Jimin’s, too, and they asked for your number or your Instagram. Which, sure, isn’t that big of a deal and isn’t something unpredictable either, but hey, your purpose here is to pretend for just three days. You’re supposed to vanish from Jimin’s life right after it’s over. “Vanishing” doesn’t include making friends with his friends.
“What? You forgot your number?” Jane asks, eyeing you. She’s so drunk that it’s obvious that she’s not seeing you really. 
“Yeah, I’m… a little dizzy.” You chuckle awkwardly. That’s a lie, though - you’re not drunk in the slightest. As soon as you noticed that alcohol was making you act weird, you stopped with the cocktails and drank as much water as possible to dissipate it from your system (so much pee). Going to the Park’s private concert drunk is out of question.
Giving in, you type your real number on her phone and hand it back to her. Jane smiles.
“I’m so glad that we met, Y/N! You’re such a great person! For real, like, you have a nice vibe!” Jane says excitedly. Yeah, definitely drunk. “We should meet again before the trip is over!”
It won’t be possible, of course. You’re not free to do whatever you want. But you nod anyway, hoping she won’t remember anything later. “Sure, let’s go out!”
Your little chat is interrupted by Jungkook calling everyone for a group photo. As soon as everyone starts gathering in a spot, you feel Jimin’s hand resting on your waist, pulling you closer to his body. His grip is warm and gentle and heat spreads from the spot he touches. His hair is kind of a mess right now, yet he still manages to look cute. Jimin doesn’t say anything, just sends you a small smile before posing for the camera.
A few clicks later, he leans over to say quietly in your ear: “We really have to go now.”
You nod. Both of you still have to get ready for the concert in a few hours. As Jimin explained, up until now, only his parents’ closest friends arrived; tonight, though, is when the real people will arrive. Not causing a good impression on them is not an option.
You start to make your way out of there, in the midst of saying goodbye to the people you walk past (consciously ignoring the vultures that were around Jimin, though. You ain’t acting nice to them at all). As you both walk past Jungkook, Jimin puts his hand over the younger’s shoulder and sends him a warning gaze. 
“You better sober up,” he says. Jungkook only opens a carefree smirk in response.
“C’mon, I’m not even that drunk yet. Don’t worry.” You’re not so sure about that, though; there’s something kind of psychotic about his silly smile. “See you guys later!”
Instead of arguing, Jimin just sighs.
And finally, you’re walking away from the pier.
It’s quieter now, which honestly is such a relief. The temperature started to cool down a bit. The sun has already disappeared behind the horizon line, yet the sky is still clear, painted in beautiful shades of orange, yellow and pink. You just walk in silence, hands behind your back, feeling a little funny. Since you stayed a long time in the water, it feels as if your body is still floating. It’s been a while since you felt this way.
“Jimin, I wanted to ask you a question…” you say quietly after a while.
After not getting a response, you frown and look around. Jimin isn’t beside you.
He’s a few steps behind, holding his phone to eye level.
“What are you doing?”
Jimin smiles. “Registering the moment.”
You quirk one eyebrow up and walk back to where he stands, a little bit confused. Jimin lets you see his phone for a second.
Your jaw drops.
You stand at the very center of the photo he took, your back turned to him, hair swaying with the wind. The beautiful sight of the evening sky serves as an astonishing background, the last beams of sunlight framing your figure beautifully. It’s breathtaking. He made such a trivial moment become something incredible with a single shot.
“What the hell?!” You exclaim, astonished, making Jimin chuckle. “You’ll send me this, right? This has to go on my Instagram feed!”
“Nope.” He says in a cocky manner, sticking his phone to his chest so you can't see it anymore. “I’m gatekeeping this one.”
“Aw, come on! That’s not fair!” You cross your arms and frown at him. "What are you going to do with this photo anyway?"
"It's my lockscreen already." His eyebrows shoot up in a playful expression. "What makes me remember, you should change yours, too. Why didn't we change it before? Such an amateur mistake!" He swiftly takes your phone from your hand and opens the front camera.
"What are you doing-?"
You gasp softly when Jimin pulls you by the waist, sticking your body to his. "Smile, pretty!"
His act was so sudden that you, indeed, end up cracking a genuine smile - at the same moment his lips touch your cheek tenderly. 
Click.
Jimin steps away and smiles proudly at the photo. "We look like a real couple here. Come on, set it as your lockscreen."
You take the phone back from his hand, feeling a little dizzy.
Oh well.
You literally made out with him in front of everyone just a few hours ago, in the middle of the ocean. Why does the chaste kiss he planted on your cheek still makes your face burn? Is it because now you're alone, not having to pretend to be a couple anymore, that his act felt much more intimate? But… there was no one else around during your first kiss at the beach, either.
It's because you're head over heels for him already.
You shake your head frantically as if to yank these thoughts away from your head. No no no. I'm not falling that easily. I'm a cold hearted bitch. I'm just flattered because he's cute and hot and rich, but it'll go away. Right?
"Yeah, right." You mumble.
"What?" Jimin quirks one eyebrow up.
"What?" You freeze, realizing that you voiced your thoughts out loud. "I-I mean- I want to ask you something."
"Oh." He puts his hands behind his back and starts walking again. You follow him shortly. "What is it?"
You munch the inside of your cheek nervously. "You can not tell me if you don't want to. But… what happened earlier today? That family meeting, I mean. Is there anything I need to know?"
The carefree glint in his eyes immediately disappears. Jimin looks down at his feet. "Oh."
An uncomfortable silence settles between you, only the sounds of the ocean and voices from the other people at the pier lingering. It makes you regret making that question as soon as the words leave your mouth. "You really don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." You say hesitantly after a few seconds. 
"No, it's alright." Jimin reassures, but he's still staring at his feet. He sighs and shakes his head. It's so painful to see him sulking this way whenever his family is mentioned… "Basically, they called me to say that Eunbi's parents are pissed about us."
Your eyes widen in surprise. "Really?" You came prepared to be hated by Jimin's parents, but Eunbi's as well? Shit. As if one billionaire middle aged couple of enemies wasn't enough.
"Really." Jimin nods. You have finally reached the stairs that lead to the street level. This pier is within the resort's property, actually, so you're not that far from the bungalows, and the main building is just a few streets ahead. "They came thinking that the engagement was already settled. Without asking for our opinions, you know. They think that bringing you here is disrespectful to their daughter."
"Oh." You knit your eyebrows. "So… they don't care if you're in an actual relationship. They'd want you to break up so you can get married to someone you barely know… even if you weren't aware of the engagement?"
"Yep. That's exactly how they think." He sighs heavily. 
You go up the stairs in silence. Your brain is working furiously. "This won't put you into real trouble, right?"
Jimin chuckles. "Y/N, the whole point of bringing you here was to put me in trouble. I want to stress them. Just don't worry too much, okay? Worrying will give you wrinkles, and you have to look wonderful tonight."
You're finally standing on the sidewalk, where one of the Park family butlers already waits to take you both back to the bungalow (he's wearing a short sleeved dress shirt, at least. Poor butlers, having to wear suits in the summer!). Your stomach twirls in nervousness. Spending the afternoon so freely made you forget for a bit your actual purpose here.
"You go without me, pretty. I'll get ready at Jungkook's place." 
You turn to him, frowning in a confused expression. "What? Why?"
The happy gleam in his eyes comes back slowly as he steps closer. "I already explained that today is a little more serious, right? More guests arrived, we have to impress people… so I hired a team to take care of you. Hairstylist, makeup artist and stuff. They're already waiting for you."
"Oh." You feel your face burning for some reason. It should be expected of him to do something like that - even obvious, since all the socialites attending are probably getting the same treatment - but still, you can't help but feel a little flustered. "Okay." You change the weight of your body from one leg to another nervously. "So… see you later, I guess?"
Jesus Christ.
He's doing it again.
Standing directly in front of you with his hands behind his back, a mysterious lip tightened smile and mischief in his eyes, watching your every movement with amusement. If your face was hot a few seconds ago, now your entire body is feverish. Will you ever get used to this? The things Jimin makes you feel without even touching you are kind of amazing. Imagine when he actually touch you the way you want the most-
Hey, pervert. Stop.
"I think I've said this a hundred times already… but it's kinda rude to just stand and stare at people." You say, eyebrows knitted - but you can't manage to sound annoyed at all.
Jimin smirks.
"I want to kiss you."
You're so taken aback that your eyes widen.
"Huh?"
"Don't huh at me." He steps even closer - so close that you feel the heat emanating from his body. He rests his hand in the junction of your jaw and your neck, spreading even more heat from that spot. You don't push him away. All this heat is going to make you melt like a popsicle. "Don't try to look innocent right now. You shoved your tongue in my throat not long ago, missy." 
You giggle, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I already said… I was just method acting."
"Hmm." Jimin nods slowly, biting his bottom lip. The sight makes you weak on the knees. "Sure. So, me kissing you right now means I'm method acting because one of the butlers is watching and we can't look suspicious around them, okay? Because they're my parents' eyes and ears, okay? Not because I want to kiss you." His voice gets lower as he leans in, a faked innocent expression that has you smiling and melting at the same time. "Just to make it clear so there's no misunderstanding. Okay?"
"Okay." You nod.
"Good. I'd hate if you got it all wrong."
Your giggle is muffled by his lips on yours.
Your hands instinctively rest on each side of his waist, while he cups your face with both hands. Oh God… his plump lips are addicting. This kiss is slower and somehow more peaceful than the one you shared in the sea, but it makes your heart race and your senses go crazy nevertheless. Your lips move slowly, in sync with his. You can feel him smiling within the kiss, which causes your knees to feel even weaker. 
He breaks the kiss not too long after, aware that you're standing in the middle of the sidewalk, but not taking his hands off of you. Yet again, he bites his bottom lip, analyzing your features carefully. "Hari will be there. You'll have a lot of territory to mark. Be ready."
You throw your head back, laughing. "Sure. You really are enjoying this way too much, huh?"
"I am. Why wouldn't I?" He confesses cheekily, shrugging. He pecks your lips one last time, lingering for a little longer, before finally letting you go. "See you later, pretty."
"See you."
You hope that Jimin doesn't notice that your legs kind of forgot how to walk as you distance yourself from him towards the butler. Because yes, you feel like a poor popsicle melting under the scorching Hawaiian sun. The sun has Jimin's face, which makes you remember the Teletubbies for some reason, earning a quiet giggle from you. The butler eyes you as if you're crazy.
Maybe you are getting crazy.
But to be honest - this insanity is sweeter than any popsicle you could ever taste.
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As a kid, you always fantasized about being Mia from The Princess Diaries. Call it escapism if you want - fantasizing about a perfect life while yours was awful - but it was a dream of yours. Imagine: finding out your grandmother is a queen? Going from a regular loser to a crown princess? Who wouldn't want that? 
You haven't thought of that movie in years. Now, as you stand in front of the mirror, it suddenly pops up in your head. Yes, Mia's iconic "transformation" scene.
Except you didn't think you were ugly before, which means right now, you're feeling like a literal goddess.
Maybe that's why God didn't make me rich, you think. Maybe he knew if I looked like this on a daily basis, I would be the most unbearable human being in this world.
"Did you like it?" The hairstylist, Christine, asks, eyeing you expectantly. 
If I liked it?! I look like the hottest bitch you'll ever see in your life! 
But instead of letting everyone see your God complex, you just nod and smile politely. "I loved it!"
Your eyes focus on the mirror again.
Jimin suggested you'd both wear black tonight as an evil joke. Traditionally, the dinner followed by the private concert is a more "informal" event, so everyone should dress accordingly with colorful outfits (you're in Hawaii, after all). Let's wear black. It represents me grieving my freedom, he said jokingly at the mall. You chuckled and thought he was being dramatic back then, but after everything you've witnessed for the past 48 hours, you realize that Jimin wasn't really joking when he said that.
The Yves Saint Lauren dress you two picked is quite simple: a short, strapless and sleeveless dress with a straight neckline. It's perfectly balanced between sexy and elegant: it enhances your curves the right amount, not enough to be considered vulgar by the aunties. Although it's strapless, it doesn't squeeze your boobies up so the uncles won't get "distracted" (ew). It's so simple but fits your body so well that you can't help but stare at your own reflection in awe. Simple black Givenchy sandals complete the outfit. 
Being a (poor) fashion enthusiast, this whole experience is like heaven to you. One thing is to see new collections and judge new trends; another completely different thing is to get to wear a piece from a high fashion house. It's not only about prices and status. This dress is so well cut and woven that it seems to be alive, as if it knows where to be tight and where to be loose. 
Doing your own makeup and hair was never a problem and you could do a pretty good job by yourself, but professionals doing it is on another level. Christine styled your hair back, carefully parting it and tucking it behind your ears, so your face is highlighted. Marco (the makeup artist) made your skin look impeccable, as smooth as baby butt cheeks (it's crazy how makeup can lie, huh?); the winged eyeliner, albeit simple, enhances the natural shape of your eyes. The lashes are subtle and make your eyes appear bigger. He completed the look by placing tiny little glitter dots under the waterline, one for each eye, so they kinda look like shiny tears (you suggested it, by the way, being carried away by the whole "grieving" concept. Talk about drama). He chose a lipstick color close to the natural color of your lips, making them appear shiny, plump and healthy.
And finally - the jewelry.
Mr. Zhou arrived at the bungalow a few minutes ago, carrying a leather, medium sized suitcase. You greet each other politely. Jimin texted saying that he would bring the jewelry you'd wear tonight - and you were anxious all along, because while you planned the outfits, he had already said you'd wear jewelry, but he didn't tell which jewelry; didn't show a single photo of what you'd wear, simply asked you to trust him. Although you learned to trust his fashion sense pretty fast, you don't like surprises at all. What if it's something extravagant that would ruin the look?
"Mr. Jimin picked those pieces from the Park jewelry collection himself," Mr. Zhou explains as he puts white gloves on (oh shit - this is so expensive that he has to wear gloves to touch it?!). "He said they would suit you fine - and I agree."
The chief butler opens the suitcase and takes the biggest black velvet case from inside, opening it.
It takes all of your self control not to gasp.
It's a gorgeous diamond necklace (yes, diamonds, fucking real diamonds!); it looks like a thick chain, actually, and at the center of it, sits a bigger emerald (yes, an emerald, a fucking real emerald!). Inside the box there are also subtle emerald earrings framed by tiny diamonds; since the necklace is already too much, the earrings have to be subtle to accompany them.
“I present you The Serpent’s Eye.” Mr. Zhou explains eloquently. “Tiffany & Co., designed by Paloma Picasso and acquired by the Park family in 2006.” He takes the necklace from the velvet case carefully. "If you'll allow me…" 
"Of course." You say, turning around and facing the mirror again - but you do so hesitantly, because being the fashion enthusiast you are, you recognize the name Paloma Picasso, and the fact that you’re about to have one of her original designs around your neck scares you. You’ve been very well aware that every piece of clothing you wear is worth thousands, but these pieces must be worth much more than everything else combined.
Mr. Zhou stands behind you and places the necklace around your neck, the cool touch of metal and diamonds making you shiver. The necklace sits just above your collarbones. The name of the design is understandable - it indeed resembles a small snake tangled around your neck. He also helps you put the small earrings on.
Finally, Mr. Zhou steps aside. 
"You look astonishing, Miss. Y/N," he says, and honestly, he sounds like he means it.
Yeah, I do, it’s what you want to say - but instead, you say “Thank you.”
It’s exactly what Jimin intended: elegance. If you’re too extravagant, his parents would hate it, and it’d make you look cheap no matter how expensive your clothes actually are. If it’s too simple, it’d look like you have no fashion sense. This look is the perfect balance. Your natural beauty is the focus, everything else just meant to highlight you. 
You look like a celebrity.
You look like them. Like someone’s rich daughter. And yes, it’s conflicting, because you never wanted to look like them - but you can’t deny that you like what you see in the mirror. 
You understand Jimin better now. Of course - he's an old money child, he doesn't know any lifestyle other than this. You're just having a little taste of what this life is. Yet, you can understand why he's so desperate to not lose his portion of the Park family fortune. Who wouldn't want to live such a lavish life? Who wouldn't want to look their absolute best at any opportunity, to wear clothes worth thousands just because they can?
Mr. Zhou looks at the watch on his wrist. “Now that you’re ready, I should take you to the event hall as soon as possible.” 
“Am I late?” You ask in a worried tone.
“Fashionably late. I’m sure everyone will understand. It takes time to look your best.” Mr. Zhou reassures. Why is he being so nice today? “I will wait for you outside, Miss Y/N.”
You nod. As Christine and Marco pack their things, you don’t forget to thank them over and over again for their wonderful job. They seem like pretty nice people, actually, and you'd like to get to know them better, but you have no time to. Two other butlers will assist their exit. You take the small black clutch that literally can only fit your phone and a small lipgloss before walking out of the bungalow where Mr. Zhou already waits.
No golf car today. Instead, that same Mercedes Maybach from yesterday is parked outside. Mr. Zhou politely opens the door for you and helps you get inside the car before taking his place on the driver's seat.
Another wave of nervousness hits your stomach as he turns the car on and finally starts making his way towards the hall - a separate building within the hotel's property, sitting in front of the ocean, not far from the pier. The ride will take probably 5 minutes. You exhale heavily, checking yourself again with the front camera, before tapping Jimin's contact.
you: i'm coming
He replies almost instantly:
jimin: waiting for you outside
Oh. You didn't think he'd already be there. You put the phone inside the clutch again and look out the window, chewing the inside of your cheek.
"Are you nervous, Miss Y/N?" Mr. Zhou asks out of sudden, snapping you back to reality. He keeps the formal tone; his voice is soothing.
"A little bit, I'll admit." You say with a lip tightened smile.
"Tonight, you'll be meeting Jimin's parents' close friends and allies from other companies." He continues. He always speaks as if he's picking his words carefully. "It's quite important to them. It's not just a celebratory event, you see… they reassure their place within society and business today."
You frown slightly. 
Mr. Zhou never talked this much. Although he keeps that formal persona, you see that he's trying to tell you something very specific, just avoiding the direct words to do so.
And yes, you get the message.
"You don’t need to worry, Mr. Zhou.” You say, crossing your arms, your expression hardening like stone in seconds. “I won’t embarrass the Park family in front of their friends.”
You see the butler nodding. “You’re smart.” He remarks. “Intelligence is important if you want to be accepted in the family.”
I would never in a million years want to be part of this family, you think. Instead, you just gulp and grip your arms, trying to ease the growing anger.
Finally, he parks in front of the events building. Yet, instead of immediately going out - and stopping you from opening the door yourself, since you’re already annoyed, Mr. Zhou turns around on his seat to look at you directly.
His expression is serious.
“I don’t want you to take my words badly, Miss Y/N.” He says in a quiet, yet stern voice. “I have been watching over this family even before Jimin was born. I know each of them very well, and I know how dysfunctional they are. When I say you have to be smart around them and watch yourself very carefully, I don’t say it to belittle you; I say it because I know what they would be capable of doing if you offend them somehow.”
“Are you trying to scare me?” You lean forward a bit, getting defensive. “Did they tell you to threaten me?”
“No.” His voice and expression don’t change despite your obvious outrage. “I am warning you because I see that you’re not quite aware of the type of people you’re dealing with. And because you seem like a respectable young lady.” Mr. Zhou’s eyes soften a bit. “I see that Jimin likes you a lot. I’m not quite sure of what your relationship with him really is, and I’d be happy if it’s genuine, because he really needs it in his life. But I know Jimin very well…” Mr. Zhou tilts his head to the side, frowning a bit. “...and I’d hate it if you're somehow harmed because of his immaturity.”
He sends a last significant gaze before finally opening the door.
You just have these short seconds to recover your breath before he opens the door for you. Shit. What he said actually gets you. Call it naivety or whatnot - but you didn’t stop to consider that Jimin’s parents are actually powerful people that could mess up your life if you annoy them enough. But… Jimin wouldn’t have asked for your help if he knew his parents would try anything serious against you, right?
Mr. Zhou knows Jimin better than you do and he just called him immature.
Oh shit.
The butler opens the door and offers his hand for you to walk out of the car. Now, you’re not just nervous - you’re worried. 
Thankfully, the temperature dropped - it's still considerably hot, but much more comfortable than hours ago. You stand up, inhaling the fresh nightly air, and look at the gigantic building in front of you. Important events happen here quite frequently. Large marble stairs lead to the entrance of the hall. There is a gathering of women and men dressed elegantly slowly making their ways inside, greeting each other politely as they walk in, as well as many security guards. You stand on the sidewalk and nervously look around, searching for Jimin.
You spot him before he spots you.
He's standing at the corner, kind of hidden, close to the first steps, absently checking his phone. You already knew what he would be wearing tonight, but to see him in the outfit makes your brain malfunction. 
Obviously, Jimin wears all black: a silk turtleneck under a black glitter Louis Vuitton blazer that fits him marvelously. The turtleneck is tucked into the dress pants. On his feet, leather black boots. His hair is pushed back, a single strand falling on his forehead, and he uses a pair of shades to complete the look. Instead of the usual dangly earrings, he wears small hoops tonight that match the outfit very well. Once again, you're left astonished at how this man is doing basically nothing - just standing there with one of his hands tucked inside the front pocket of his pants, checking his phone with a blank expression - but Gosh, he's gorgeous. His posture is perfect: he has the elegance of a swan, the grandeur of an eagle, and the confident gaze of a tiger about to slash you to pieces. In fact, he looks so good that you even forget the short talk you had with Mr. Zhou a minute ago.
It takes him around three seconds to lift his gaze from the phone and spot you.
It's funny, because you see the exact moment he freezes.
The shades slide down the bridge of his nose. He looks at you with slightly widened eyes and parted lips. It's like he's in shock.
Then, a smile breaks its way and lightens his face.
Jimin shoves the phone inside the pocket of his pants and rushes to you in a second. Nervousness bubbles within your stomach at every step he takes. It doesn’t help that he walks with the stance of a model - he’s definitely doing this on purpose. Handsome men that know they are handsome are the most dangerous type. Jimin is not only very well aware of his appearance, he uses it to his advantage all the time. 
And when he stops in front of you, checking you out from head to toe - it’s like you can’t even breathe.
It’s a different feeling from yesterday. There’s no playfulness in his eyes at all. Only that same electricity hanging in the air you felt earlier today at the yacht - when you sat on his lap, when you kissed. This electricity is getting more and more intense, it’s like you’ll start seeing sparks around you at any moment. Fuck, he didn’t even touch you yet. You don’t know how much longer you can resist…
Honestly, you’re not sure if you want to keep resisting at this point.
Jimin takes your hand and makes you twirl around, earning a soft giggle from you. He bites his bottom lip, that mischievous smirk making you feel weak on the knees.
“Just so you know,” he says in a low voice, putting his hand on your waist, “If I make a fool of myself in front of everyone, I’m blaming you. Because I won’t be paying attention to anything else tonight.”
You giggle again, tentatively touching the lapel of his blazer. It’s beautifully embroidered with circular patterns; you can only see them if you stand close enough, though. Your sight lingers on his lips (for long seconds; they’re so plump and glossy and delicious) before you look into his eyes again. “I could say the same thing, Mr. Park.”
Jimin’s smirk widens and he tilts his head to the side. “I knew The Serpent’s Eye would suit you.” He touches the necklace with his fingertips. The action makes you gulp - this necklace seems to weigh tons and you’ve been painfully aware of it all the time, your anxious brain already making up scenarios of you losing the millionaire design and Jimin’s parents making you pay with your life. 
“Why did you choose it, by the way?” You quirk one eyebrow up in a teasing expression. “Are you calling me a snake? Should I be offended?”
Jimin chuckles. “Of course not. Serpents are astute and smart animals… just like you.” Sir, the actual smooth person here is you, not me. “Not everyone can pull off such an aggressive design. I knew none of my mother’s friends would dare to choose it.”
Jimin hooks your arm around his and slowly starts to guide you towards the stairs. “So your mom lets her friends borrow her jewelry?” You ask. 
“From the family collection, yes.” Jimin nods in a gracious movement. “The most expensive pieces, only to the closest and most important guests. It’s a sign of trust and respect.”
“But your mother surely doesn’t respect me.” You say between gritted teeth, aware of the people around you. 
“Don’t worry, she won’t say a word about it. It’d be weird if the guests noticed that her daughter-in-law isn’t wearing one of the pieces. Like I told you… this event is about appearances. She’d rather die than let people think her family isn’t perfect.”
Daughter-in-law. This makes you shiver. You've been her fake in law for barely 48 hours and it already feels like hell. Imagine being her real in law… Jieun must’ve done some awful things in her past life to deserve this, honestly.
You’re forced to pay attention to your real surroundings before you can overthink more, though, when you realize you’re the center of attention.
This is probably the closest you’ll ever feel to being a celebrity. It’s not unusual to be the center of attention when it’s your birthday, for example. But this… this feels different. You don’t know most of these people, just some familiar faces from earlier today - yet, it seems that they already know you, they measure you up and down, they smile and greet you before you can. Sure… your arm is hooked with one of this event’s hosts, the Park’s youngest son. Yet, you see that people are also actually seeing you. You’re not just Jimin’s accessory.
Is this good? You’re not sure. This means they’ve heard from you somehow. In the span of less than 48 hours, these unknown people have been talking about you.
They approach you with curious smiles; they greet you and Jimin, make some shallow - almost diplomatic - comment about the weather or how long they haven’t seen Jimin or about the outfits or I’ve heard a lot about you, Y/N! (how the hell did they hear a lot about you in such a short time, though?) or you make a gorgeous couple! (you know they’re not lying about this bit; you do look gorgeous). They do not look at you disapprovingly, so you can confirm that the outfit choice was indeed appropriate for the event, albeit dramatic.
“You’re great at this, did you know that?” Jimin compliments after yet another middle aged couple walks away, leaning a bit closer to your ear so only you can hear. “You even remember their names.”
“I have a good memory,” you say between a gritted-teeth smile. “Also, working on customer service teaches you a few things.”
“Really? You weren’t this charming when we met at that convenience store.” He says in a teasing way, cocking an eyebrow up.
“First of all, I met you sitting on the floor behind a fridge. You looked like a freak.” He lets a giggle at that. “Second, I’ve moonlighted as a waitress many times. And event hostess. Never any event of this level, of course.” 
The last sentence was spoken in a quieter tone. Once again, you’re a bit scared of how Jimin - and everyone else - don’t seem to be bothered by the absolutely luxurious environment around. The immense hall is decorated in similar white and cream tones from the dinner yesterday (there’s a reason for that; Jimin’s parents are celebrating their 30th anniversary, the Pearl anniversary, apparently). Even waiters and waitresses, walking around with silver platters in hands and pretty smiles on their faces, wear cream uniforms. There are literal cascades of white lilies and roses so beautifully entangled that you’re intrigued at how they managed to arrange that. The round dinner tables are also decorated with white flowers at the center. There is a massive ice sculpture of an open oyster with a pearl in it at the entrance of the hall; the presence of pearls and oysters is almost everywhere in the decoration. The hostesses and waitresses even have small oyster shaped pins on their hair. At the very front, there is a stage; it’s barely lit yet, but you can see musicians discreetly preparing their instruments for the concert later. Professional photographers walk around the hall, recording and taking pictures of anything remarkable.
It’s jaw-dropping.
You feel weird inside.
It doesn’t matter that you look like them; you don’t feel like them. You don’t belong in this place, and it feels that everyone will notice it too if you do the slightest thing wrong. It’s clear in the way you’re astonished (outraged) at how someone can spend so much money on flowers (do you even know how much a single bouquet costs? Can you imagine thousands of flowers?!) while these people walk around with hundreds of thousands of dollars hanging from their ears or around their necks, and to them it’s just another weekend.
Oh boy. Mr. Zhou was kinda right. You will have to be very careful not to embarrass Jimin or his family in front of these people.
You walk around with your arm hooked around Jimin’s for a while, making silly small talk with the guests. Jimin quietly whispers who they are and their importance as they approach. It’s always some over the top shit like Biggest LG Shareholder or Co-Founder of This Very Famous Car Brand or CEO of This Very Rich Food Company and it makes your stomach drop every time. It seems that half of the country’s GDP is hanging around in this hall. A bunch of old guys with their (1) same age, but full of obvious cosmetic procedure wives or (2) much younger wives that of course married them out of true love.
Jimin complimented you earlier, but it’s him who deserves the most compliments. He’s really good at this. It’s so easy for him to engage in a superficial but polite conversation. Hello! I acknowledge your presence here! I am thankful that you came but I do not care enough to talk more than two minutes with you! Yes the weather is nice! See you later! All that with the prettiest smile and most genuine fake laughter you’ve ever seen (sounds contradictory but that’s exactly that). And they all fall for that. He’s so unbearably charming.
Which makes you wonder.
Jimin said that the whole purpose of bringing you to Hawaii was to upset his parents. But… he’s not really acting like someone willing to do that. Of course - maybe he knows that if he goes too far, his parents might really cut him off of their sweet sweet money fountain. Yet, it doesn’t match with what he stated earlier. Does he really want to piss his parents off? Or does he want to play the good boy so his parents leave him alone with this engagement thing? Those are opposites, he can’t want both.
Does he even know what he wants?
You’re unsure.
Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have accepted this insanity, the little anxious voice in your head says. Maybe he really is too immature and is about to fuck me up. 
Jimin gives a little pat on the hand that holds his arm and smiles. 
“We’re doing really well, pretty. I’m relieved that you’re here.” He says quietly. “This kind of event always stresses me out, but you’re making this easier.”
Don’t go around saying cute shit like that while I doubt you!
You avoid his gaze and sip a little bit more of the champagne you picked earlier from a waiter. “It doesn’t look like you’re stressed at all.” He shrugs.
“I’m method acting, too. Kinda used to it at this point.”
And there it is. That quiet sadness in his eyes.
Goddamnit.
All the questions in your head crumble to the ground, and you immediately want to comfort him like a baby.
That’s not a baby. It’s a grown ass man. Get yourself together. 
The voice in your head is angrier now - and she’s kinda right, to be honest.
Jimin sighs and pats your hand again. 
“Okay, we’ve wandered around enough. Food will be served soon… so we have to get seated.” He doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t despise the idea of having to sit with his family for another torturously long dinner. 
“Okay.” You nod, placing the now empty champagne glass on another waiter’s platter. You inhale, trying to gather more confidence. “Let’s go.”
So, you start walking towards the table at the front of the stage - the most important one where everyone can see from all directions. 
They’re already there, surrounded by their closest friends.
At every step, you try to gather more and more anger within yourself - this anger will fuel your confidence and muffle the nervousness (in theory). Fuck this middle aged billionaire couple. Fuck their matching cream outfits - Mr. Park Hyunjun wears a very traditional (read: boring) cream suit, while Mrs. Park Eunji wears a long, flowy dress with blue details in it and beautifully embroidered with silver patterns that seem to remember a soft breeze. A beautiful pearl necklace adorns her neck and modest cleavage. Their outfits are very “age appropriate” and posh, indeed, and they are an attractive couple, but everything about them is so painfully traditional.
Also fuck the way they look at you two with disapproval.
Another nauseatingly fake scene unfolds in front of your eyes - Mrs. Eunji giggles and side hugs Jimin, gushing over how handsome he looks (she can’t hide the obvious distaste for his black outfit, though). 
“What an… interesting choice,” she says, touching the embroidery on his blazer with her fingertips. “Rather dramatic, I’d say.”
Jimin smiles. “Everyone looks good in black, you know. Also, I didn’t want to stand out.” 
Bullshit. No one else is wearing black because it goes against the dress code. The way he said it so innocently would make any unsuspecting ears believe him, but his mom is certainly not one of those - neither are you. 
“Of course, black can make anyone look presentable at least. Y/N is live proof, isn’t she?”
She eyes you from head to toe and smiles sweetly.
Holy fucking shit. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.
Her tone. The way she looks at you. Her awful Tom Ford perfume that makes you want to vomit as she approaches and - gasp - side hugs you too, like a good and loving mother-in-law. You smile and give her some soft pats on her back, but God, you can’t act as well as her at all - although you force yourself to do your best, well aware that all eyes and ears are focused on the Park family.
“You look astonishing tonight, Mrs. Park,” you say between gritted teeth. “This color really suits you.” Cream is boring. Like old paper. You almost smell like mold, too, rattlesnake.
“I’m glad you think so.” She’s not glad you think so. “See, me and Elie spent a long time choosing the color palette for this dress… he did such a wonderful job in the end.” She widens her eyes slightly. “Oh! My apologies, you can’t possibly know who I’m talking about…”
“Elie Saab.” You promptly say. Of course Elie Saab himself designed a dress for her. “Yes, I know his work.”
“Really?” She raises one eyebrow and this small movement spreads anger through your system. So much disdain, and she just said a word. “I didn’t think you’d know such a highly regarded fashion house, since you seem so… humble.” She has the audacity to eye you up and down with disgust again. “A wonderful trait to have, you see! Our Jimin definitely needs someone in his life to teach him some humility.”
In all honesty, you don’t even know how to respond to this.
Your wanted reaction is to reach for the nearest fork and stab her face with it. Which is, unfortunately, socially inappropriate. You also think of calling her by the ugliest names in existence, which, unfortunately is also socially inappropriate (won’t take you to jail, at least).
But all you can do is keep that smile plastered on your face and anger in your eyes.
This level of contempt is not unusual. 
Alpha High taught you to get used to it. The giggles, side glances, or straight up offenses spoken out loud so everyone could laugh at your expense, too. It taught you to accept it silently, because you knew no one would stand up for you; you didn’t have enough money or a heavy surname to back you up. You weren’t important enough. Who cared if you had an excellent academic performance? It wasn’t as cool as having a summer manor in Greece anyway.
You hate that no clever response comes to your mind. You hate that you can just stand there and awkwardly look at her - this woman that made you feel cheap even though you have diamonds sitting around your neck. You hate that, deep down, you’re feeling as cornered as you were as a defenseless fifteen year old standing on the school hallway.
Not a fun feeling at all.
And things just start getting progressively worse.
Before even Jimin gets time to say something, another couple approaches - and your blood freezes. You’ve seen them yesterday at the reception dinner and earlier today, now feeling a little stupid that you didn’t make the simple connection. They’re followed shortly by another person, a much familiar and hated face. 
Eunbi’s parents, apparently; Mr. and Mrs. Jeong.
Now that you look at the three of them, the silly part of your brain wonders who Eunbi inherited her beauty from, because they don’t share much of it with her, let’s say. They’re impeccably well dressed, of course, but their daughter’s beauty steals all the attention. She wears a rosé pink minidress (is it MiuMiu?) with a straight neckline and thin straps. On her ears, diamond earrings that seem to resemble raindrops; around her neck, a diamond choker necklace. Everything combed with the subtle makeup gives her a young, cute look.
You measure each other up and down like two rival lions about to fight. Complete opposites, black and pink. 
The tension is so extreme that it’s almost visible - like some kind of fog.
Jimin is the one to break the ice, stepping closer to greet the couple, and you do the same, glad that you don’t have to look at Mrs. Rattlesnake even for five seconds - though this other lady also hates you, apparently. It’s kind of amazing how Jimin can act like the heavy tension isn’t there at all.
The seven of you stand there smiling for long and silent five seconds. It looks like a smiling contest. You can’t tell who’s angrier.
“So… Y/N, right?” Mrs. Jeong says. She looks like an eggplant, some part of your brain remarks silently, almost making you (very inappropriately) giggle. “It’s such a surprise that you and our Eunbi were classmates. We would’ve never guessed.”
If that’s even possible - your anger levels increase. It might’ve sounded like a pretty normal thing to say, but her tone and the way she measured you up and down makes it clear that what she really meant was we would’ve never guessed that a nobody like you also studied in Alpha High.
“We were surprised, too.” Eunbi says before you can, smiling sweetly. “We haven’t seen each other in years.”
“This is a great excuse for you to come with us to a day at the Spa tomorrow, isn’t it, Mrs. Park?” Eunbi’s mom says, eyeing the other woman knowingly.
“Of course! Y/N and Eunbi must have a lot to catch up after all these years, right? Y/N, you have to come with us tomorrow.” Rattlesnake hisses- (oops) says.
You look at the two other women with uneasiness.
First of all, this doesn’t sound like an invite, but a summon. You simply know you can’t say no. Second of all - these three despise you, they wouldn’t want you there if they didn’t have second intentions. What do they actually want?
You want to say no thanks, but it feels like you’re handcuffed in this situation.
“Sure. It sounds refreshing,” you finally agree with a painful smile. It didn’t even happen yet, but you know tomorrow is already ruined. Don’t let these bastards get to your head, your inner voice advises; don’t show weakness. You can deal with them.
Yeah, right.
You notice that, surprisingly, Eunbi looks very uncomfortable with the whole idea; she avoids her mother’s gaze and looks down, smile faltering a bit. She doesn’t want to be around you as much as you don’t want to be around her, apparently. At least you can agree on something.
Your thoughts are interrupted by Mr. Park stepping closer once again, placing his hand on his wife’s back. “Dear, dinner’s ready and about to be served. We should take our places.” 
“Of course. I’m sure all of us are hungry enough.” She turns around to the other guests to announce it loudly, and somehow all the nearly one hundred people manage to hear it, walking to their respective seats.
Respective seats.
The seats are all charted - something you only saw in movies before, but you should’ve expected it at this point. Coming closer to the round table, you notice that over every beautiful white and blue porcelain plate, there is an elegant tag name in golden lettering on top of it. Mr. and Mrs. Park; Hyungsik and his wife sit by Mr. Park’s seat, while Jimin’s place is by his mother…
And by Jimin’s seat…
You freeze. Jimin freezes, too.
Jeong Eunbi’s name tag.
Feeling your stomach drop, you look around, searching for your own name tag - but there’s none to be seen, and it’s getting increasingly embarrassing as everyone else sits down while you and Jimin remain standing.
Your throat gets dry.
“She’d rather die than let people think her family isn’t perfect,” Jimin said as you walked inside the hall. This made you think she wouldn’t want to embarrass you.
Oh, Jimin. How wrong you were.
“Hm, there must be a mistake.” Jimin speaks up. The smile is still there, but his eyes hardened and his breath gets deeper as the visible anger fills him. “Where is Y/N’s seat?”
“Oh! Jimin, dear… this is a bit unpleasant,” his mother says, stepping closer with clasped hands and (fake) apologetic eyes. “You know that we planned this event months prior… the charting was already made long ago. We didn’t know Y/N would be here today. Unfortunately, there was no time to tell the catering staff to provide one more seat at our table.”
Funny how your legs start feeling cold all of sudden.
It’s the second time you’re at a loss of words tonight, this time much worse than before. You grip Jimin’s arm just a little tighter, feeling how the situation is starting to get people’s attention. Mrs. Park isn’t trying to be quiet right now. Your legs are cold, but your neck and face suddenly warm up with embarrassment as the guests on the main table whisper among each other in confusion.
“We found a vacant seat, of course, right over there, Y/N,” Mrs. Park continues - for fuck’s sake, she just continues - pointing over to the other side of the hall. “With the Kim family. You’ll love them, I know it!”
Your brain can’t process a coherent sentence. 
With the corner of your eye, you notice Eunbi standing a few steps away awkwardly. She has the decency to look embarrassed, at least. Everyone else at the table is already seated.
You’re… you’re supposed to be their daughter-in-law. Their younger son’s girlfriend, the first girl he ever brought over. Yet… they refuse to let you sit by Jimin’s side on the main table, the hosts table, and want you to sit alone on the back so they can set up Jimin and Eunbi. And they’re doing it publicly.
This is the type of humiliation you wouldn’t expect from an adult, a mature person. But it’s happening nevertheless, and you want to sink and disappear. You can’t think of a quirky comeback, a way out that would make you feel less humiliated - even though Jimin isn’t even your real boyfriend and these people aren’t your real in-laws. This trip feels like a mistake, like a bad idea, like Mr. Zhou was absolutely right in his warning.
You’re so overwhelmed by this sour feeling that you don’t notice how Jimin’s smile disappears.
He sighs heavily, looking at his feet, jaw clenched.
“Okay.” He looks up at you - and you’re taken aback, because you’ve never seen Jimin angry before. “Y/N, let’s go back to our room.”
And he starts walking away, taking you along by the hand.
“What? Jimin- where’re you going?” Mrs. Park says, making Jimin stop. “Dinner’s about to be served.”
You see the warning in her eyes and gritted teeth and hardened smile, but for once, Jimin doesn’t play along. Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t speak louder, but when he does speak, it’s in a hard and serious tone.
“If Y/N doesn’t have a place here, neither do I. I don’t see why we should stay in this situation.” He doesn’t bother to whisper, aware that he has the table’s attention. “Now, if you’ll excuse us...” 
Oh shit. He’s angry and offended. Jimin turns around again, holding your hand tightly. 
In the midst of all the bad feelings, this is so satisfying. You’re simply happy that Jimin didn’t leave you on your own, didn’t lower his head to his parents. He stood up for you and is genuinely pissed! His mother is still babbling - she for sure didn’t expect Jimin to want to leave like this - and even Mr. Park got up from his seat; Eunbi is pale, her parents watch in disapproval, similar to Jimin’s older brother, who glares at him as if he did something wrong.
“Wait, Jimin, please,” someone else says, which catches both yours and Jimin’s attention: Mr. Hwang. He’s gotten up and looks between you and Mrs. Park cautiously. “I am sure we can solve this situation very easily. There’s no need to miss this amazing night.”
Mrs. Hwang also gets up; her eyes are widened with worry and an uneasy smile. “I am sure everyone at this table can move a little so Y/N can sit with us.” Murmurs of agreement echo around, much to the Park’s displeasure. “Waiter, please? Could you assist us?”
You and Jimin eye each other as Mrs. Hwang politely asks a nearby waiter to bring another chair, while the guests start getting up with no protest to open a little spot by Jimin’s side. In no time, there is one more chair at the table; another waitress hushes to bring a new set of plates and cutlery. 
“See? It’s done! Not a big problem at all.” Mr. Hwang says happily; the guests at the table also seem content. 
“I guess we can all sit now, right, Jimin?” His wife says. “We all would hate it if this lovely young lady missed the concert.” And to your surprise - the table agrees.
You look at Jimin again. He doesn’t look happy - not at all - but it seems that he softened up a bit because of the Hwang couple; same goes for you. If this was a competition for Best Middle Aged Couple, the Hwangs would’ve won it by far.
He raises an eyebrow at you - a question. You shrug and nod in small movements. Although you’d rather not be here, at least Mrs. Park looks infuriated that her silly little plan didn’t work and she in fact caused a ridiculous scene. Her attempt at embarrassing you completely backfired.
Jimin sighs heavily and, instead of saying anything, walks back to the table once again. The guests sigh in relief; Eunbi looks even more awkward; the Parks are fuming. Jimin pushes the chair for you to sit, and as you do, a little spark of victory fills your chest. 
“I’m glad this is solved,” Mrs. Park says, glaring at you as if she wants to stab you with the nearest knife, a lip tightened smile. “I hate unforeseen events.”
You are the unforeseen event. About to be the worst she could ever imagine.
“It’s alright, Mrs. Park. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes.” You say sweetly. Jimin does his best not to laugh; she definitely wants to stab you. 
Me 1 x 0 Rattlesnake
A win, at last.
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Everyone at the table does their best to forget The Seat Incident for the sake of a good mood. 
Lighthearted conversations. Good (amazing) food. The band plays soft background music. Understandably so, neither you and Jimin talk much - he is still visibly upset; chooses to just respond whenever someone mentions him or makes quiet comments in your ear from time to time. You, on the other hand, don’t talk much because the person sitting by your left side is Eunbi and you’d honestly rather swallow nails than willingly have a conversation with her.
All things considered, everything is going alright. They’re asking fewer questions than yesterday, which is great, so you can focus on whatever the name of this thing you’re eating is - taking small bites and chewing slowly so you don’t look impolite and desperate for food. Your stomach twirls every time you hear Jimin’s parents' voices, though, which makes you enjoy the taste less.
You’re doing great, you mentally pat yourself on the back. A few more hours and you’ll be back in your room. Just get this over with. 
After pretty much everyone is done eating - your stomach is so full that the dress becomes uncomfortably tight -, Mr. Park gets up from the chair and softly clicks the side of a knife on a crystal glass, enough to call everyone’s attention. You notice when a waiter swiftly places a mic on the table for him.
The band stops. Everyone goes silent. Mr. Park Hyunjun takes the mic, a soft smile adorning his features, as the spotlight focuses on him.
“Good evening once again, my friends.” His deep and elegant voice echoes softly through the speakers. The whole hall greets him back. “I hope everyone enjoyed this amazing dinner prepared by Chef Mauro Bianchi. Mr. Mauro, it is a pleasure to have you with us once again.”
A round of applause. An aggressively Italian man with a cook outfit politely bows and smiles as the spotlight focuses on him in the back of the hall, close to the kitchen doors. Of course Mr. Park only acknowledges the worldwide famous, I-don’t-know-how-many-Michelin-stars holder Chef, but not the entirety of the staff that helped organize and serve everyone. 
“As most of the friends present here already know, me and my dear wife prepare this event every year not only as a celebration of our union, but also as a celebration of all the many achievements and challenges we win throughout the year.” He makes a dramatic pause, his eyes scanning the crowd to make sure everyone is paying attention - and everyone indeed is; despite your hatred for the man, you can’t deny that with this level of oratory, he could’ve easily been a news anchor.
He offers his hand to help his wife get up from the chair as another round of applause echoes. Mrs. Rattlesnake has a pretty smile, you have to admit. Once again - yeah, they do look great together, and otherwise you’d think this is all too sweet, but there’s just something inherently wrong with this scene… too poised, robotic - trained to detail.
“And past year was indeed one of the most significant of our lives. After much work, Aurum ranked fifth place as one of the biggest steel companies in the world. We’ve achieved heights my parents would’ve never imagined.” He continues. More applause. What does it even have to do with his marriage? “Unity. This is the word for our 30th anniversary. Everything we’ve made and built, we did together - and I’m sure we wouldn’t have gotten this far if we were apart.” Oh, so your fortune was “achieved” because of your wife? I thought it was because of the already rich company your dad left on your hands. 
“And the oyster, my friends, is the perfect symbol of unity; it summons up our life as a couple very well.” He looks at his wife sweetly. You have trouble telling if Mrs. Rattlesnake’s glossy eyes are fake or not. “An oyster. Two shells, pressed together - working together to create the most beautiful pearl. And our pearls, our jewels - the biggest gift this marriage brought us both - is our two sons.”
My God.
You want to vomit.
The applause is a bit louder now as the spotlight focuses on both Jimin and Hyungsik. Both of them smile and wave to the public. If you hadn’t spent the most uncomfortable hours of your life around this family, you would’ve fallen for Mr. Park’s sweet words - but hell no. I mean, it might be true about Hyungsik - but Jimin? The dear son they very publicly disrespected only barely an hour ago, by ignoring his partner? The dear son they mock constantly, scold, disrespect, and want to force into an arranged marriage against his will?
These people genuinely make you sick.
You’re a bit surprised as Jimin grabs your hand under the tablecloth, where no one can see. You take it and squeeze softly. He wants to vomit as much as you do.
“You two are live proof of our love, and we are so proud to know you’re our children.” The applause continues as Mr. Park speaks this time. Kind of funny how he says that while Jimin himself stated that he sees his parents once a year. That’s not the behavior of someone that cares this much. 
“Unity. Family. Love. Friendship. It’s what we’ve been harvesting together for the past 30 years, and I couldn’t be more happy and grateful.” He squeezes his wife’s hand sweetly. “Now, let us celebrate together, my dear friends.”
The lights go off while the hall applauds; the band starts playing again, way louder this time - a melody you’re familiar with - and when all the spotlights focus on the stage-
You gasp loudly.
“What the-?!” You whisper in utter shock. Jimin chuckles.
The woman standing on the stage is… is Kim Gain.
Like, why are you even surprised at this point? What, you thought the Parks would’ve hired a bar singer for their super expensive wedding anniversary? But even so, you didn’t expect to be seeing the 90s love songs’ legend Kim fucking Gain standing a few meters away from you, wearing a gorgeous long silver dress, her beautiful and powerful voice filling the hall as she sings her all-time smash hit Flower Hill. This woman doesn’t even do concerts anymore! You can’t even imagine the insane amount of money they must’ve paid her to do a private concert. 
She sings looking directly at the main couple, and God- despite the age, her voice sounds even better live than recorded. It makes you forget for a while all of tonight’s awful events. You quietly hum along to the lyrics of Flower Hill word by word - it’s impossible to not know this song, not only because it’s a classic, but because it’s your mother’s favorite song and she hammered it into your head.
Your memories are as clear as the blue sky; your mother played her CD over and over again - this song specifically - while she prepared lunch. You helped her peel the boiled eggs, standing on a stool so you’d get tall enough to reach the sink, while she cut cabbage swiftly. You both sang along to Flower Hill. Even your father would hum along eventually as he put the dried bowls on their respective cabinets.
It’s a good childhood memory. One of the few. You remember thinking that your mother looked so beautiful when she wasn’t frowning and angry at you.
And all of sudden - sadness hits you like a truck.
Funny how being humiliated in front of these people didn’t even get close to making you cry the way just thinking of your mother does.
You sigh and look down, that familiar heavy thing growing in your chest, stubborn tears that you blink away before they can even come. Shit shit shit. Don’t you dare to cry here, Y/N, you scold yourself harshly. But goddammit- Mrs. Kim Gain sings really well, and when the chorus hits, you always melt away.
It’s moments like this that remind you that you are, in fact, not indifferent. And you are, in fact, far more hurt that you can put into words.
It’s your turn to squeeze Jimin’s hand for comfort.
He eyes you quietly, confused - but chooses to not make any comment.
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You elbow Jimin’s side, eyes squinted, as if unsure of what you’re seeing.
“What?” He asks, relaxing on the chair next to yours, now sitting on a table at the external part of the hall. Finally some cool night air; from the external part, you have a wonderful view of the immense garden that goes down the hill directly to the sea. You can see the pier down there; it’s full of parked yachts - much more than during the day - but there’s some in the distance as well, shining against the otherwise pitch black sea like little stars.
“Am I crazy,” you say after sipping more champagne from the glass, “or that’s Kim Minju?”
You discreetly point to a certain girl standing inside the hall. She’s tall and gorgeous, wearing a green sundress. You’re not really into idols - you don’t have time to keep up with celebrities at all - but even someone like you can recognize Kim Minju, the new “it” girl from the new “it” group everyone’s been talking about lately.
Jimin squints his eyes as well, and when he sees who you’re pointing at, he nods. “Yep, it’s her.”
You raise one eyebrow up. “Why are your parents friends with teenage celebrities?”
“They’re friends with her mother.” Jimin sips from his own glass of champagne. He took his blazer off and rolled the shirt up to his elbows, looking much more relaxed now that he can finally stay away from his family. 
Kim Gain finished her concert, which meant people were allowed to just hang around and talk again, while the band kept playing background music. You decided to leave the main table as soon as you could, finding this almost-hidden table at the external balcony (you’re glad it’s this hidden, because it’s getting hard to sit all lady-like with your feet hurting like this. These Givenchy sandals were way too expensive to be this uncomfortable to wear).  Jungkook was hanging out with you two minutes ago, but suddenly something “very important” happened and he had to leave (in other words: some hot girl passed by and he went after her).
“And her mother is…?”
“One of MNET’s biggest shareholders, basically. Why do you think Minju is the most popular member? Her mother pays for her to be the center, to have the best clothes… this kind of thing.” He speaks in a low voice, aware of the people around. “Most popular idols are only popular because their families pay for their popularity.”
“Oh.” Makes sense. You look him up and down, the hint of a playful smile on your lips. “You could’ve asked your parents for help in this area, Jimin. You would’ve made a great idol.”
Jimin chuckles and pushes his hair back. “I know, right? But I don’t think I would survive a day in this life. I mean- a dating ban?” He scowls. “Just no.”
You chuckle too, resting your chin on your palm. You’ve only been sipping champagne - though they’re serving other interesting drinks, too -, afraid to get even slightly intoxicated and embarrass yourself (and Jimin) in front of these people. Even so, this champagne is starting to make you feel a little funny inside. Maybe I should stop.
“How do you even know this dating ban thing is real?” You raise one eyebrow at him. Jimin huffs.
“I had a thing with this idol girl for a while.” He says nonchalantly - then interrupts himself, as if he just realized he said something he shouldn’t. He eyes you apologetically.
“I don’t care if you talk about other girls.” You assure, rolling your eyes. And you actually don’t. It’s not like you have anything real going on for you to care. (You’re quietly blaming your rage fit against Hari earlier today on the alcohol).
“Really?”
“Yeah. Why would I?”
Jimin looks at you in silence.
“Kinda hoped you’d be jealous.”
You laugh it off, furiously ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. “Just tell the story, Jimin.”
He seems dramatically disappointed, which makes you giggle again. Jimin sips more champagne and tilts his head.
 “So… me and this girl. Whenever we went out together, we had to literally - I mean literally - hide. Wearing masks, sunglasses, hoodies, all this stuff. At the beginning it was kind of fun, but then it got unbearable. Her manager kept calling her all the time to know where she was. One time, a paparazzi caught us and I had to pay them a shitton of money to not release the photos.”
“Why didn’t she pay for it? Or her company?” You ask, genuinely curious. 
“Because her company didn’t know. She didn’t tell them, scared of getting punished or whatever. And she didn’t have the amount they asked for. So I paid for it.” He shrugs. “Then I broke up with her. I mean, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, why did I have to hide?”
“Yeah, sounds like a strict life. I don’t think I could take it, either.”
You notice the way Jimin’s eyes glint with playfulness again; a mischievous smirk adorns his lips. He comes even closer to you and looks around, making sure the people aren’t paying attention to the conversation. 
“Back on the topic of Kim Minju,” he says in that quiet tone that means gossip. “Her mother is lesbian.”
Your eyes widen slightly. “Really? How do you know?”
“I know a lot of things about a lot of people.” He discreetly points to an elegant woman standing near Kim Minju - maybe just a bit younger than Mrs. Park. “That one.” You squint your eyes to analyze her. “She’s been ‘single’ for around ten years, since her divorce with Minju’s father. She’s, like… the most famous closeted lesbian I’ve ever seen. In terms of how much people I know she fucked, she must be only behind Mr. Junghoon.”
Your eyes widen even more. “Jungkook’s dad?!”
Jimin nods vehemently. “Yep. He must’ve fucked at least half of this hall. All those pretty younger wives.”
You eye Junghoon - standing in the middle of the hall, laughing at something someone said. “Like father, like son, I guess.” Jimin chuckles at this. “I mean, he is very hot for his age.”
“That’s not even the craziest person here.” Jimin narrows his eyes, looking for someone into the crowd. You find yourself entertained by his sudden will to spill people’s lives on you - it even makes you forget how much your feet hurt for a while. When he finds them, he elbows your side lightly. “That couple over there? The Kwons?”
You take around three seconds to find them- a middle aged couple, a bit older than Jimin’s parents, perhaps. They seemed very polite (considering you talked for less than two minutes).
“Yeah?”
“They host massive orgies.” You look at Jimin in pure shock. He looks back at you with his eyebrows raised in that I know, girl expression. “They have a mansion in Malibu only for this purpose. They invite dozens of people to participate.”
You sip more champagne. That conservative looking couple host orgies? They look like the type of people that think women showing their ankles is a sin. Appearances really mean nothing around here! “Were you ever invited?”
“Thank God no. And I wouldn’t go anyway. Not into voyeurism.” Jimin makes a disgusted scowl. “But I know some people that went there. They’re pretty creepy, actually. Just… stay away from them, okay?”
“Noted.” You’ve watched enough documentaries about how rich people can be creepy to know Jimin isn’t kidding.
“There’s also, let’s see… oh! Jinwoo, over there.” He points to a man in his early thirties that you briefly greeted earlier today. “His marriage was arranged, too. I heard he has a severe humiliation kink. He likes to be treated like shit by women.” You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to hide the bubbling giggle. Not to kinkshame anyone, but wow. “But his wife is not into it at all. From what I’ve heard, they even live in separate houses. So Jinwoo has to pay women to satisfy him.”
“I wouldn’t think that of him… he looks like the type that calls women females.” You remark. 
“People around here look nothing like they actually are.” Jimin sips more champagne. You expectantly wait for him to tell you more - (1) because you like gossiping (2) because this is the most fun you’ve had the entire night. “Oh! Minho and Krystal. Over there.”
Said couple is standing quite far, talking to Jimin’s brother and his wife. They must be in their early thirties, too; an attractive couple that haven’t stepped away from each other the whole time. You briefly remember thinking they looked cute together.
“Yeah?”
“They’re in a forced marriage, too. Minho is gay.”
You pause. “They look genuine.”
“They’re not.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I met him in a bar last year in Berlin. He hit on me. Insistently. He’s friends with my brother, so I turned him down. But yeah, I saw him with other guys there.”
You look back at Minho in silence.
Oh.
This one’s kinda sad.
“So… he was forced into marrying a woman even though he’s gay.” You reason out loud. “Does his family know?”
“Probably not. At least, they pretend they don’t.” Jimin sips more champagne with a sour expression.
“That’s fucked up in so many levels.” You’re starting to get angry just talking about it. “He’s trapped with this woman, having to pretend his entire life? All for the sake of appearances? What, are we stuck in the XVIII century and nobody told me?”
“I told you that’s how things work around here.” He says, staring at the bubbles in his champagne glass.
And he actually told you. In your third encounter, back at the convenience store. But you didn’t believe him. It felt too far from your reality to be taken seriously. Now, though - after finding out that most of these pristine looking people, the “role models” of society are in secret what they most demonize - you truly realize how awful everything is. This much hypocrisy feels repulsive, overwhelming.
Is this how Jimin has been feeling his entire life?
“What about you, Jimin?” you ask quietly, any hint of playfulness gone from your face and voice.
“What about me?”
“What if you’re stuck in this situation? I mean, I remember what you told me back then. What if you want to marry a guy? Your parents would be against it… are you going to end like Minho? Having to pretend for the rest of your life? Can you accept this?”
Jimin sighs and hangs his head back, closing his eyes. You hate it because for a moment all you can look at is his half parted plump lips and your brain malfunctions for a sec.
“Let’s not talk about me, please?” He asks in a whiny, raspy voice.
“Why not? I’m worried about you. Can’t I be worried?” You put one hand on your hip, somehow starting to feel offended.
“No, you can’t.” He still hasn’t opened his eyes.
Yeah, you’re offended now. “Okay, then. I’m sorry for caring.”
Jimin looks at you with half opened eyes.
His voice drops.
“Don’t do this to me.”
“What?” You raise one eyebrow up.
“Act like you actually care.”
“Why do you think I’m acting?” You slightly push the empty champagne glass away, so nothing is between you two. Because he’s quieter, you unconsciously drop your voice, too.
“You said so. Method acting.” 
You’re getting tired of this “method acting” thing. You inhale heavily. “Well, I’m not acting right now.”
Jimin drops his eyes to his own empty champagne glass, drumming his fingers on the table softly. He makes a small pout. His lips are so damn attractive. “You know, I’m conflicted about you.”
“Please elaborate.”
“I know I shouldn’t be expecting anything real from you at all, since I hired you to be here. But why do I feel that something real is going on?” He looks up at you again. “But then, sometimes, I feel like it’s not? I don’t know what to think of you.”
Holy Shit.
He went straight to the point.
You feel goosebumps on your spine (though you try to blame it on the cool breeze hitting your back, not on Jimin’s piercing gaze, of course). It’s kind of creepy how Jimin can balance being silly and cute in a moment and then boom - painfully straightforward a second later. He didn’t beat around the bush at all.
And yeah, you get what he meant.
You can’t tell if something real is going on. It’s way too early to say something “real” - whatever it is - is happening; you barely even know Jimin. At the same time he doesn’t know if you’re serious, you don’t know if he is being serious; many times, it feels like he’s acting, putting up a character around you. The way you’re rapidly getting attached to him is scary - what if you’re getting attached to a character? What if you’re surprised by Jimin’s real persona in the worst way possible?
You have no idea about any of that.
What you know, though - something that is very real, is almost visible - is the undeniable attraction you feel for each other.
This isn’t deep. You don’t have to think much about it.
And right now - with the alcohol subtly fogging your judgment and making you feel hot inside; the accumulated tension - you don’t really want to fight back anymore. You don’t want to think of consequences. All you can think of is his pretty plump lips.
You smirk, resting your face on your palm again. You see how this single look of yours affects him. You’re not the only one that can do this, Jimin.
“You know,” your voice is very quiet right now; half lidded eyes that stare back at him with the same intensity. “Knowing everything isn’t fun. I think it’s better this way.”
You’re still in public, but it’s like everyone else becomes distant. 
Jimin smirks, too.
“Let’s play a game, then.” He says all of sudden, getting even closer to you, on the edge of his seat. “I’ll ask a few questions. You can answer them or not.”
You feel his hand on your leg, under the tablecloth.
This makes you widen your eyes, surprised, looking around discreetly. “What are you doing?”
“You said your feet hurt, pretty.” Oh shit. That mischievous tone, playful smile, glinting eyes. You’re a popsicle melting under his heat. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to giggle, as Jimin rests your left leg over his own legs. “Free massage.”
You’re kind of hidden - your leg is fully under the tablecloth - but you still look around frantically, trying not to make any weird face. “Jimin- they’ll see us.”
Jimin clicks his tongue at the same time he swiftly unbuckles your sandal and places it on the floor. Your heart beats faster with adrenaline - if any auntie sees this, they might want to arrest me! “They’re not paying attention to us.”
Indeed, no one is. Mr. and Mrs. Park are having a dance in the center of the hall; most of the crowd surrounds them. The place became dimly lit as the spotlight focuses only on the couple as they sway to a romantic tune and everyone watches them.
You’re about to make another complaint, but as both of his hands hold your aching foot, pressing it - you have to fight back what would be an obscene moan. It feels too good. Jimin chuckles.
“So, back on the game.” It’s criminal how he acts like he’s doing nothing wrong as his hands massage your foot. “Did you want to hook up with Hoseok?”
This comes so out of the blue that you freeze. “What made you think that?”
“I saw the way you looked at each other.”
Well. It’s not like Hoseok tried to pretend when he first saw you. “No. He’s hot, but no.”
Jimin nods. He seems satisfied with the answer. His hands work around your feet miraculously, pressing on the right spots, easing the pain. 
They go a bit up. On your ankles now.
Oh God.
“Did you want to hook up with Jungkook?” Still not looking at you.
“No.” You chuckle. “What got into you? Are you jealous?”
“I don’t know, am I?” He raises his eyebrows and shrugs, making you smile. “I’d only be jealous if something real was going on between us, right?”
His hands are traveling up your leg, still massaging as they do. You gulp heavily. Your heart beats faster.
“Right.”
Your thigh.
You gasp quietly as, in a sudden movement, he pushes you even closer to his body. The chair scratches on the floor. You’re glad the music is loud enough to mask the noise. 
His hands are warm. His smirk widens.
Jimin massages your thigh slowly. You don’t make any attempt to stop him. His hands are resting just a little distant from the hem of your dress. 
You want them to be under it. 
Yes, you are very much aware of all the people standing around, the things they’d think if they notice what is going on. But Jimin’s hands are on your thigh and you feel hotter inside every minute and his delicious lips are right there and holy fuck he’s enjoying torturing you as much as you enjoy being tortured and- you don’t even remember what you were worrying about a second ago.
“You’re so soft.” He says in a quiet, sultry voice that makes your insides quiver. “Are you feeling better now, pretty?”
“Mmmh-hmm” you say quietly as your breath gets deeper - which makes Jimin smile even more. “You’re good at this, did you know that? You have a hidden talent.”
He chuckles darkly, lifting his eyes to meet yours. “I could show you what else I can do with this talent of mine.”
His fingers - slowly, hesitantly - travel just a bit upwards, while he eyes you tentatively. He sees no disapproval or discomfort in your expression, which only ignites his excitement. He smirks and shakes his head slightly. 
“I’m actually going insane because of you, Y/N.” The smirk in his voice makes yet another goosebump run through your system. In response, you tilt your head to the side, eyeing him innocently.
“Why? I’m not doing anything.” You bite the tip of your tongue while smiling, which makes Jimin gulp.
Oh, the electricity. It almost sparks in the air with the power of a lightning. And to think you were trying to act all chaste not long ago, gaslighting yourself into thinking that doing anything with him would be equivalent as “selling yourself”.
Who fucking cares?
“Last question.” He says quietly, leaning even closer to you until his lips are right by your ear, sending shivers of excitement down your body. 
“Will you let finally let me fuck you?”
The words get stuck in your throat.
Jimin hasn’t been this obscenely straightforward up until now. It makes your mouth water, your heart beat faster. His voice wasn’t demanding. It was pleading. Like he was desperate for you and couldn’t take it anymore.
And that’s your last straw.
You lean away just enough to look at him. Fuck, he’s got pleading eyes, too. Your panties feel humid, you remember the last time you had sex was three months ago, you feel his warm hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your intimacy. 
You smile and, in a swift movement, move your leg away from his hand.
Jimin looks confused for a moment, his smile faltering, as you take the sandal and put it on your foot once again. He looks even more confused - maybe thinking you got offended? - when you get up and adjust your dress.
Then you look at him.
“Excuse me. I need to go to the toilet.”
Without looking back, you take the clutch from the table and make your way inside the hall.
The main couple is still having their moment in the middle of the hall - and for the first time you’re thankful to them, because no one even bats an eye as you discreetly make your way to the restroom. The dim lights hide you, not even waiters or security guards or photographers notice you. 
As you get into the black marble restroom - completely empty - you have around five seconds to look at your reflection in the mirror before Jimin walks in and shuts the door.
His lips on yours shut you mid-giggle.
Jimin grabs the back of your neck and glues his body on yours with the other hand as he hungrily kisses you - the kiss tastes like the cherry from your lipgloss and expensive champagne. You grab both sides of his neck as Jimin and you stumble to one of the stalls and you close the door clumsily. Holy fucking shit, it’s getting hot. The kiss is deep and desperate and full of desire. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” he says in a breathy voice that makes you smile seductively. “Why you gotta do this to me?”
You unconsciously squeeze your thighs on one another as he leaves a wet kiss on your neck; you grab his shoulders for support. “I’m not doing anything yet.”
He chuckles darkly against your skin, his hot breath increases your temperature even more. His hand travels down your back to squeeze your ass, making you gasp lightly. He leaves one more wet kiss, and another, and another.
Jimin leans away so he can look at you. His lips are reddish, wet and a bit swollen. 
“You don’t need to.” He parts your legs with his own. Your insides bubble with excitement. “Look at you… all dolled up. The prettiest of all of them out there.” He licks his lips slowly. “I want to make a mess of you, Y/N. I want to see how pretty you look with your hair and makeup ruined by me.”
His knee presses on your intimacy, making you involuntarily sigh; the pressure is still too soft, not even close to satisfying the raging fire inside your body, but it already makes you gulp and breath heavier. God, you want this man inside of you. You need him. 
Jimin notices your change in expression and his smirk widens as he moves his knee against you, making you sigh again. You kiss him eagerly. There’s still music out there, but all you can hear is the kissing sounds and breaths and Jimin’s deep humm of approval.
“This is the face I wanted to see the most.” He whispers on your lips, his leg pressed against you, his hands caressing your waist and hips. “Let me make you feel good, pretty… please?” He pecks your lips. “Hmm?” He bites your bottom lip lightly, passing his tongue on it right after. “Can I fuck you now?”
Shit shit shit. It’s embarrassing how you already feel this wet while you barely even started. Were you this much touch starved? Or is it because you’ve been wanting this as much as him since the beginning?
You kiss him again.
“Not here.” you whisper in a breathy voice.
Jimin nods. It’s obvious. Anyone could walk in at any moment.
Back to your shared bungalow? It’s too far from here - only five minutes by car, yes, but you don’t think you can wait this long. Not to mention Mr. Zhou would be the one to drive you both back and you don’t want to look at that old man’s face before having sex.
Inside some car? But which car? This place is full of butlers and security guards, anyone would notice what’s going on. Just no.
As you’re about to ask where you could head to - Jimin’s eyes glint in that way that tells you he had an idea. 
His smirk widens.
He steps back and grabs your hand with a boyish, playful expression.
“Let’s go.”
You have time to grab the forgotten clutch from over the sink before Jimin drags you out of the restroom - luckily, the hall is still dimly lit and there aren’t many people back here. Discreetly, you two make your way towards the back exit - avoiding butlers and photographers at the main entrance - stepping out of the hall towards the stairs.
You finally realize where Jimin is heading to when you get to the sidewalk and he takes a turn to the left.
The pier.
Dozens of parked and empty yachts just around the corner.
You’re both laughing childishly as you run towards the pier - stopping only so you can yank those sandals off; who the hell could run in stilettos? - not caring to look back, feeling excitement and just the sheer joy of doing something you know you shouldn’t. The pier is quiet, there aren’t many people around; most yachts are dark. Jimin doesn’t drop your hand as he squints his eyes trying to find a specific one. When he does, he sprints towards it, dragging you along.
Jungkook’s yacht.
Completely dark. Cleaners, bartenders, all the staff are long gone, having finished their shifts long ago. 
There is a security guard standing in front of the entrance stairs, though.
He frowns as you two approach.
“Hey!” Jimin says in a happy voice. “You’re… Steven, right? Remember me? We were here earlier today.”
By the looks of it, his name is Steven, and he looks shocked that Jimin remembers it. “Good evening, sir. Did you need something?”
“You see, Steven, I might have forgotten something very important in the yacht.” Jimin says. You want to laugh. “I’d like to go check it out.”
“Of course, sir. Tell me what it is, I can ask another guard to check it for you-“
Jimin steps closer.
“No, Steven. I need to check it out. It’s kind of personal, you know?”
Steven eyes you and Jimin back and forth. 
The penny drops. His frown deepens. You’re not even embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t let you in.” He says in a mix of hesitance and annoyance. “This is private property.”
“I know, Steven, and I’m glad my friend hired such a diligent security guard. You’re very professional.” Jimin is a bastard, isn’t he? “I promise I won’t get you in trouble. Just let me check, okay?”
Steven looks around. “I’m sorry, sir… I really can’t.” 
Jimin nods.
He drops your hand for the first time, reaching for the inside of his back pocket. 
You watch with your jaw dropped as he opens his wallet and puts a stack of money on Steven’s hand.
Jimin casually walks around with stacks of money in his wallet.
The security guard’s eyes are as widened as yours. That much money must be double - shit, triple - of what he’ll get for this shift. You see as his annoyance dissolves and his resolve to not let you in disappears.
“It’s a really tiny thing I’m looking for, so it’ll take, I don’t know… an hour?” Jimin looks back at you up and down and reaches for his wallet again. He takes another stack just as big and puts it on Steven’s hand. “Two hours, actually, to check the whole place.”
Steven gulps. It seems he’s furiously fighting against his work ethic - but the money on his hand is heavier. 
Steven steps aside, finally giving up. “Okay, sir.”
Jimin smiles and grabs your hand again. “Make sure to keep the other guards away, okay? Thank you so much!”
You two sprint up the stairs - you have time to mumble an embarrassed “thank you” - towards the deck.
The yacht is completely dark, except for some emergency lights. Jimin guides you around it. You know there are actual bedrooms here, but both of you are way too impatient to go up one more flight of stairs - so before you can even process what’s happening, Jimin has thrown you against the bar counter and is kissing you again.
You drop the sandals and the clutch on the wooden floor before entangling your arms around Jimin’s neck. He presses his body on yours so hard that you lean back, your back hits the counter. And to think you were right here a few hours ago, surrounded by a bunch of people; it’s a completely different vibe with the lights off, silent, the darkness of the sea around you. 
It’s your turn to squeeze Jimin’s ass, which makes him chuckle against your lips. He leans away for a moment and seems to be searching for something; with a click of his, the glass top of the counter lits up - there are red led lights under it. Both him and you are painted red. 
Jimin looks at you with hungry eyes, out of breath. That damn smirk.
“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting this, pretty.” He pushes you closer again, grabbing your hair and leaving noisy kisses on your neck.
“I think I do.” You say cockily. You’ve been aching for him all this time - and it’ even embarrassing to admit it to yourself -; it’s embarrassing that Jimin is everything you learned to hate (filthy rich, arrogant, a fuck boy) from your past experiences, but shit, you’ve been wondering how he would feel inside of you all this time, you’ve been craving him since that night in your tiny apartment… and you’ve been wondering if he fucks as good as he talks.
Your hand bravely travels to his front. You rest your palm on his crotch, gently pressing it - earning a soft sigh from him. He’s stone hard. It makes you chuckle cockily against his ear, and the sensual sound sends shivers down Jimin’s spine. 
“No, no, no… you don’t really know.” His lips are on your ear as he speaks quietly and deeply. While one of his hands are still tightly entangled in your hair, the other travels down your back - which already almost makes you melt - to rest on your ass; in a slow but unhesitant movement, he grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it up to your hips, fully exposing your ass. “Ever since that time at the store…” he massages your asscheeks with both palms and squeezes it gently. You lick his neck in response. “When you looked at me with such disdain… you were reading a fucking text book behind that counter, looking at me as if you were so much better than me… I imagined fucking you over that same counter, pretty.” Goosebumps. He grabs one of your thighs and you instinctively wrap it around his waist; when he humps his clothed core against yours, you can’t fight back a soft moan. “I imagined fucking you over and over again. Such a hard-working girl…” He humps again, stronger this time. “So pretty…”
Your impatient fingers search for the lapel of his blazer, and you help him take it off, dropping it on the floor; you grab his face with both hands and your lips are pressed again in a hot dance, while he still humps slowly and sensually; each rub on your clothed clit sends electricity and heat through your veins. Your lower part is almost totally uncovered, except for the black lace thong you wear, and the cool ocean breeze makes the tiny hairs on your body raise. Everything is red and hot. Some sane part of your brain registers that if there’s anyone inside the neighbor yachts, they will totally see what’s happening - and it only adds to the excitement.
Jimin breaks the kiss and leans back slightly with half lidded eyes. His lips are shiny and stained with your lipgloss. He’s so sexy that the vision itself makes you feel pleasure.
He grips your ass tightly and watches intently as his movements make your breath get deeper each time, makes you sigh and moan softly. His breathing is deeper, too; his Adam’s apple moves when he gulps. He licks his bottom lip sensually, feeling the taste of your sweet lipgloss. He keeps you glued to his body as both of you move your hips against each other, rubbing your clothed intimacies to a more urgent pace; there are already droplets of sweat starting to cover his forehead. 
“You’re so fucking hot.” He whispers, watching you whimper. 
“Touch me.” Your voice sounds strangled and slightly out of breath, which makes Jimin smile darkly. “Please.”
“Baby, you don’t need to beg.” He’s so visibly proud of himself and excited that he’s almost glowing more than the red led lights. The hand that supported your leg swiftly travels to your front and he unashamedly presses it on your clothed core, feeling the lace with his fingertips and the wetness underneath. The smile widens. “I’m going to give you anything you want tonight. Anything.”
Your head drops back when he starts to move his fingers in circular movements over your clit. He watches your every reaction intently with that same darkened gaze and smile. With the other hand, he grabs the back of your neck and once again glues his lips to your ear: 
“I want to hear you moan for me, baby.”
He says as his fingers slip under the fabric of the thong.
You shiver and an obscene whimper leaves your lips when his cool fingers make contact with your warm, wet intimacy. He hums in approval - and the deep sound makes your legs shake -, feeling your arousal, before once again putting pressure on your clit and moving his fingers in provocative circles. That’s a man that knows what to do with a clit, by the way. You entrance tightens around nothing.
“You like that?” He whispers. You nod, eyes closed, lips half parted. “Hmmm…” is all you can say. His smile widens.
Instinctively, you start to buck your hips, following the movement of his hand. He increases the speed of his movements, noticing your eagerness. You feel the fire spreading from your core down your legs and stomach.
With a quiet chuckle, he suddenly wraps his other arm around your waist. You let a surprised gasp as Jimin lifts you from the ground with ease and makes you sit over the counter (you hadn’t realized that Jimin is that strong, which is kind of hot).
He stands between your legs and kisses you again. Your fingers run through his smooth hair; he massages your thighs, back and ass. You softly bite his delicious bottom lip, and it’s sick how you know he’s smiling before even opening your eyes.
“You want me so bad, baby. It’s kind of cute.” He breathes amidst a quiet chuckle. 
“You’re talking too much.” 
He chuckles again as his fingers search for the zipper on the back of your dress. “I can’t shut up when you’re around.” The quiet sound of the zipper somehow sounds loud right now. “I want you to pay attention to me and only me.”
“You have all of my attention now. Let’s see if you deserve it.” Jimin finds it sickening how you sound innocent and sweet as you say this, gazing at him with the most daring eyes he’s ever seen. He shakes his head in disbelief.
“Yeah, let’s see.”
Usually, you’d worry about taking the dress off, scared to damage it somehow, but as Jimin helps you lift it and put it over your head, you couldn’t care less. You’re not wearing a bra. Your chest is fully exposed; you rest your hands back on the counter, gazing at Jimin sweetly, as he almost drools over your body. 
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He breathes heavily, mesmerized. Without wasting a second, he cups your breasts with both hands and squeezes them gently, earning a hum of approval from you. He kisses your neck, making his way down - slow, wet, loud kisses -, tasting you; you grip and massage his smooth hair, pulling it softly in ways that make him shiver.
When he hungrily mouths one of your hardened nipples, you bite your bottom lip and a soft moan escapes. Just the vision of his plump lips wrapped around your nipple makes you wetter. He swirls his warm, wet tongue around it, while his hand still works on your other breast, massaging it in delicious movements. He sucks your nipple, making a loud noise, before biting it gently - earning a hiss from you.
“I like that sound.” He says against your skin, looking up at you with a smile. “God, you’re delicious.” He kisses a spot on your stomach, under your breast. “You smell so good…” Another kiss. Lower this time. “I want to eat you.”
You giggle, biting your lip provocatively - as if his actions aren’t making you go insane. “Then do it.”
It’s his turn to laugh as he shakes his head; his smile is angelical - even though, right now, with the red light painting his face as he helps you position your feet on the counter - your hands supporting the weight of your body as you lean back slightly, totally spread and exposed for him -, he looks like a hungry demon.
God. You never had sex in such an open place before. The ocean breeze hits your body, making you shiver, at the same time that you’re burning from the inside, trembling in expectation. Jimin takes the hem of your thong and helps you take it off slowly, well aware of how painful making you wait is. He drops the last piece of clothing to the floor before grabbing the insides of your thighs, spreading you even more.
You’re naked and open over a bar counter, where anyone from the neighboring yachts can see you, with a million dollar necklace around your neck - and you’ve never been so aroused before.
Jimin licks his lips, eyes locked on your cunt. “You’re so wet for me, baby.” You bite your bottom lip hard when his fingers press on your clit in circular movements again for some moments before spreading your pussy lips with his index and pointed finger. “I can’t wait to be inside of you.”
He wraps his lips on your clit.
You throw your head back and actually moan this time.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck - his plump lips around your clit feel like heaven, much better than what your dirty mind could think of. He sucks softly and licks you, from your entrance to your clit again, flicking his tongue over it (once again - that’s a man that knows what to do with a clit). His warm, wet muscle moving against your most sensitive part makes waves of heat and raw pleasure run through your body, completely clouding your mind, as your fingers grip his hair and moans and hisses escape through your lips. Your sounds of pleasure, the wet noises he makes as he sucks you and the ocean waves create the most obscene and beautiful symphony you’ve ever heard.
“Fuck-“ you manage to breathe out somehow. If he weren’t busy sucking your clit, he would’ve smirked cockily. “Feel so good, baby…”
He leans away for a moment, actually smirking this time. His lips are so wet that the sight makes you more wet. “Shit, if you call me like that again, I will cum in my pants.”
This makes you smile - but your smile goes away quickly as he carefully introduces two fingers inside of you, making you moan and bite your bottom lip. You’re so wet that they slide in easily - but you’re also very tight due to not being penetrated in a while, which makes Jimin move slowly. He watches your cunt with the attention of a professional. Fuck, he might be a pro at this, actually.
He curls his fingers inside of you slowly, making you lose your breath; Jimin pays attention to your every reaction. “You like that, pretty?”
“Y-Yeah,” you moan, nodding, still biting your bottom lip. Jimin looks up at you with a fog in his eyes.
“You look so fucking hot right now, Y/N.” Somehow, the way he calls your name in that low tone instead of pretty sends goosebumps down your spine. He keeps eye contact while his fingers keep moving inside of you. He starts pulling them in and out, and you close your eyes for a moment, feeling shockwaves of pleasure every time he does so. Your breath gets shallow and quick, and out of instinct, you start bucking your hips, following his movements.
He mouths your clit once again while his fingers are still busy, making you moan louder. “R-Right there, Jimin-“ you stutter in a breathless voice. “Just like that…”
You don’t need to ask twice - he keeps hitting the same spot as his mouth works on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue over it, slurping all of your juices. You grip his hair for dear life, incapable of doing anything but moan and hiss and sweat, feeling your legs shake. You also think Jimin looks so fucking hot right now - head between your legs, hair an absolute mess (your fault), wet lips and the hungriest eyes you’ve ever seen in your life.
It might be because you’ve been touch starved for a while, or because Jimin eats pussy too well, or because you’ve been dreaming of this moment with him - but you already feel the orgasm building up. “Don’t fucking stop,” you beg him - and he obeys, sucking and licking mercilessly; maybe even Steven down there can hear the squelching noise your pussy makes every time his fingers move, or your moans that make Jimin feel the hardest he’s ever been. A small pool of your juices forms on the glass under you, dripping from your entrance. Jimin works on your cunt like his life depends on it. You feel the overwhelming heat building up in your stomach, your body shaking, your lungs failing-
You grip Jimin’s hair hard and yank him away from your pussy as the orgasm hits (you pulled so hard that it hurt his scalp - and he loved it); he also loved how tight you clenched his fingers as the orgasm made you convulse, just imagining how it would feel to be inside you. He watches you with pride, all covered in sweat and helpless, your face contorted in pleasure. 
He takes his fingers out of you slowly, standing straight again to press his lips on yours - and you don’t care to taste yourself on his lips. Your legs are still weak and trembling when one of his arms once again wraps around your waist and he helps you stand up on the floor, never breaking apart.
“Baby, I need you around me.” He whispers between kisses - and it almost sounds like a whimper, which makes your legs even weaker. “Will you get on your knees for me? Hmm?”
It’s your turn to obey promptly - Jimin ate you out so good that he deserves it. Without saying anything, and still keeping eye contact, you get on your knees, batting your lashes prettily at him while your fingers work on his belt. Jimin takes some strands of hair away from your face, mesmerized; ever since you first met, he always looked at you in a way that made you feel attractive, and right now it has just increased tenfold.
Jimin unzips his pants and frees his cock from his black boxers. You gulp at the sight of his girthy, veiny cock; he’s stone hard, pulsating, and you wonder exactly how long he’s been hard already. He pumps himself slowly, while you once again lock eyes. 
“Shit- you look even better than I imagined.” He says in a low, breathy tone. Just the fact that your usually fierce and unbashful persona is obediently kneeled down in front of his dick, looking up at him with sweet round eyes (you’re too good at this), eyes clouded still recovering from your high, almost sends him over the edge. 
You stick your tongue out and lick his pink tip, immediately earning a hiss of pleasure. Your lips wrap around the tip and you suck gently at first, teasing him, never breaking eye contact, while he still pumps himself. Jimin gulps, licking his wet lips; the sight itself makes you tighten your pussy around nothing. 
“Open your mouth for me.” He says - and this time it doesn’t sound like he’s asking, meaning he’s more desperate. You promptly do so, sticking your tongue out again. He slaps his cock against your tongue, hissing - and it’s fucking evil how you’re smiling right now, he thinks - while his other hand grips the hair at the top of your head firmly.
He pushes in. Fuck - he’s big and fat and you gag around him, but at the same time, he tastes delicious, if it even makes sense. Jimin closes his eyes and throws his head back, starting to roll his hips against your face, as his hand still keeps your head in place and your lips tighten around his cock. 
“Shit– you look so good with my cock stuffed down your throat,” he hisses, increasing the speed of his thrusts. Drool and spit drip from the corners of your mouth, you gag and whimper, but it’s the daring gaze locked on his that tells Jimin he can just keep going. “So obedient, baby, taking me like a big girl… fuck– I want to cum all over your face.”
You hum with his dick in your mouth, sending vibrations that make him groan with pleasure. His balls slap on your chin every time he thrusts, and you keep your lips tightened around him, trying to give him the pressure he needs. There’s something sensual about you being naked while he’s still fully clothed - and you never thought you’d feel this way for anyone. He looks so hot with sweat covering his forehead, strands of hair falling over eyes, half lidded eyes and parted lips in a face of pure pleasure; fuck, you’d let him fuck your throat whenever he wanted, you’d suck him forever if it meant you would have this sight every time you did it.
His grunts and moans and hisses make you melt every time, even though his movements become more and more uncomfortable as he stuffs himself in your throat in quick thrusts that make you whimper and feel tears grow in your eyes. As if sensing this, Jimin yanks you off his cock and you gasp for air. He smiles at how messy you look right now, with drool dripping from your mouth and a thin layer of sweat over your forehead. 
“C’mere,” he breathes out, helping you get up and hurriedly guiding you towards a nearby sun lounger. Closer to the yacht’s balcony, the ocean breeze hits your body harder, making you shiver. “How do you want me to fuck you, hm?”
Without saying a word, you smile devilishly before getting on your fours for him; you arch your back and purr like a cat, ass up, chest touching the lounger. You're still smiling and biting your lip when you look at him from over your shoulder, mesmerized by the sight of your stretched pussy.
Jimin steps closer and massages your asscheek before slapping hard, earning you a soft hiss. “You’re amazing. Can’t stop saying that. You’re perfect, baby.” He grips your hip with one hand while the other guides his cock to your entrance, getting the tip wetter with your juices. “You’re so good that you make me wanna fuck you raw, baby.”
Truth is - you didn’t even think of protection, and you couldn’t care less in this moment, as wrong as it is - but God, when Jimin finally pushes in, stretching your pussy as both of you moan in pleasure, you couldn’t be more thankful that his cock is uncovered so you can feel his skin purely.
Your breathing fails and you grip the fabric of the lounger tight, adjusting to the pressure and the slight pain it causes. Jimin pushes balls deep in, slowly at first, throwing his head back in delight. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, pretty…”
He starts to thrust in and out, making you moan each time with the glorious friction you desired so much. “Fuck– f-feel so good, Jimin…” you purr, arching your back even more. He grips both sides of your hips firmly, increasing speed with each thrust; the sound of skin hitting skin repeatedly is everything you can hear beside yours and Jimin’s moans and grunts.
Every nerve in your body seems to be on fire. His cock punches deep into your pussy, pushing you closer and closer to actual insanity as your mind becomes incapable of noticing anything but the feeling of him hammering inside of you over and over again, his strong grip on your hips, stuffing you even better than you had fantasized. Sweat covers all of your body now, and the necklace hurts your collarbones since you’re pressed against the lounger, but you couldn’t care less right now. 
“I love hearing you moan, pretty.” He sounds out of breath and sexy. You gasp in surprise when, suddenly, he grips your hair and pulls it, forcing your head back. It burns your scalp; you hiss in pain, but the pain mixes with the overwhelming pleasure and somehow doubles it. “Fuck– this pussy’s all mine. You’re all mine.”
You never thought Jimin was the possessive type, but people babble whatever comes to their minds when they fuck, right? That’s why, mindlessly, you have the audacity to agree: “Y-Yeah, baby, I’m all yours– ah!”
He pulls your hair even harder at the same time he takes it all out just to slam himself balls deep in again in a way that lets you see stars and drool. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck– he’s merciless, relentless in his quick pace, ruthless in the way he grips you and spanks your ass - but, at the same time, his mouth is full of praises, grunting how good you feel or how pretty you are.
You whine in protest when he pulls out entirely without warning. “Turn around, I want to watch you getting fucked.”
Once again, you do as he said without complaints - but instead of immediately laying back again, your hurried fingers unbutton his shirt and you make him take it off, which Jimin does gladly, since the fabric was already glued to his body due to how much he was sweating. You lay back; Jimin grabs your legs and puts both knees over his shoulders.
He takes his cock with one hand while the other holds one of your thighs, slapping it on your clit a few times. You watch his face distort with pleasure when he pushes inside of you again. Jimin picks a fast pace from the beginning, holding both of your thighs, focused as if he’s on a mission; all you can do is moan and whimper helplessly, massaging your own breasts while Jimin drives both of you closer to your highs.
He watches the way your tits bounce with each thrust, your face covered with sweat, the way not even the ruined makeup makes you look ugly - and the fact that you’re wearing anything but diamonds somehow arouses him even more. You clench around him, pushing Jimin closer and closer to the edge. Neither of you are worrying about being quiet right now, and you can only hope that the ocean will be your ally in muffling your desperate moans.
But you’re suddenly forced to worry about it.
The sound of voices and steps yank both of you back to reality at the same time. 
Jimin stops moving. You and him look to the stairs barely five meters away at the same time.
Two voices coming closer.
“Sir, please-” you hear. It’s Steven’s voice - worried, almost freaked out.
And the second voice-
“B-But I’m sure I left it here somewhere…”
You both recognize it instantly.
A very drunk Jungkook.
You look back at Jimin with horror, eyes open wide, as he lets go of your legs and lays on top of you instead, shushing you. 
“Sir, please,” Steven’s panicked voice echoes again. “As I told you, the upper floors were waxed… you can’t go upstairs, it’ll ruin your shoes,” yeah, he came up with a smart excuse. But Jungkook keeps babbling about losing something, too drunk to understand.
If he comes upstairs, he’ll immediately see you. You’re not in a hidden spot at all. You want to get up and hurry away-
But then you look at Jimin again and he’s smirking devilishly.
He thrusts again, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.
Before you can moan - he covers your mouth with his hand.
Your eyes talk. Are you seriously doing this?
His eyes talk back. Yeah.
He thrusts again.
And again.
Your eyes roll back, you entangle your legs around his waist. Fuck, these men down there could come upstairs at any moment. They can hear you if you’re loud enough. If they come upstairs and see you in this situation, you don’t know if you’ll get over the embarrassment. But Jimin’s cock is stuffing you so deep and so good. He hits your spot again, and again, and again, and his dick is thick and heavy, and he could tear you open that you wouldn’t mind - so you don’t push Jimin away. No, you tighten your legs around him because don’t he dare stop; you grip his back, you bite your bottom lip in an attempt to keep quiet, but the fact that Jimin can still hear your muffled moans against his hand makes it hard for him to endure this much longer.
He hides his face on your neck in an attempt to muffle his own moans, biting your shoulder in a torturous slower pace now - if he goes too hard, the sound of skin hitting skin will be heard from the floor below. A part of your mind registers that Steven is desperately trying to lead Jungkook out of the yacht, while all the other parts are focused on Jimin’s member inside of you, his weight over your body, his teeth sinked on your shoulder. You can’t stop, neither does he. It’s like you’re in some type of trance.
After long, torturous minutes, you hear the voices going away.
Jimin is ruthless.
He lets go of your mouth and supports his body with his forearms on both sides of your face, pounding in despair; neither of you can take this much longer, it’s getting painful.
“F-Fuck, pretty, you did so well-” he somehow manages to breathe out, smirking in boyish excitement. “Such an obedient girl, hmpf, keeping quiet while I fuck you good…”
“Oh my God–” you whimper, feeling the second - and more intense - orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach. “D-Don’t fucking stop, Jimin–”
“Yes, baby, I’ll make you cum again–” he swiftly leans away and places one leg over his shoulder again, spreading you in an even better angle. “You deserve it, baby- shit, shit, shit–”
He punches inside of you over and over and over again until your walls are clenched and convulsing and your toes curl and your eyes roll and you grip the fabric of the lounger tight and your whole body shakes in an explosive orgasm. You’re breathless, weak; it was an almost out of body experience. Did you ever cum this hard before? You don’t think so.
And it’s not time to think of yourself, actually, because when your brain starts recovering from the high, you realize that Jimin had pulled out and is pumping his cock desperately, trying to reach his high. You grab his wrist, stopping him, and - Jimin almost loses it - you meow: “C’mere, come in my mouth.”
You sit up and he kneels over you until his member is on your face and, without wasting a second, you put it all into your mouth until you feel him in your throat, sucking him eagerly. Jimin moans and grips your hair while you pump your head over his length, producing loud suction noises. You just want him to cum as hard and good as he made you.
“Fuck– fuck, Y/N, I’m coming–” he warns in pant, pulling his cock out of your mouth.
You still keep it open, though, sticking your tongue out, as Jimin blows his load on you. You feel his hot seed dripping on your face, feel it on your lips and tongue. You patiently wait until he’s milked dry. Then, you open your eyes.
Jimin’s hair is an absolute mess. He’s all sweaty, panting heavily, face flushed, shaking slightly; you’ve never seen him look so glorious.
He opens a tired smirk.
And, with your gaze locked with his, you lick your lips and swallow.
It’s like he came again just seeing you do this.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N.” He shakes his head in disbelief.
It is your turn to chuckle.
Yeah.
Maybe you will.
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You let cum drip on a million dollar necklace.
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