#Energy Consumption Tracking

[electronalytics]

Digital Power Meter Market Trends, Key Factors, Opportunity, In-depth Insights Strategies and Huge Demand by 2032

Market Overview: The Digital Power Meter Market refers to the market for electronic devices used for measuring and monitoring electrical power consumption in various applications. Digital power meters provide accurate and real-time data on power usage, enabling efficient energy management and facilitating cost savings. These meters are widely used in residential, commercial, and industrial sectors to monitor electricity consumption and optimize energy usage.

Global Digital Power Meters Market Report Predicts Industry to Grow at 4.1% CAGR to forecast period (2023-2030).

Demand:

Energy Efficiency and Monitoring: Growing emphasis on energy conservation and cost reduction is driving the demand for digital power meters. These meters provide accurate real-time data on energy consumption, allowing businesses and individuals to monitor and manage their energy usage effectively.

Utility Modernization: Utilities are upgrading their infrastructure to smarter grids. Digital power meters enable utilities to remotely monitor energy consumption, detect outages, and manage energy distribution efficiently.

Smart Buildings: The trend toward smart buildings and home automation is fueling the demand for digital power meters. These meters are integral to building management systems, enabling remote energy monitoring, load optimization, and demand response strategies.

Renewable Energy Integration: As renewable energy sources become more prevalent, digital power meters play a critical role in tracking the energy produced and consumed. They enable effective integration of solar panels, wind turbines, and other renewable sources into the grid.

Data-Driven Insights: Businesses are seeking data-driven insights to optimize operations and reduce costs. Digital power meters provide granular data that can be used for energy audits, load profiling, and predictive maintenance.

Scope:

Industrial Applications: Digital power meters find extensive use in industries to monitor and manage energy consumption in manufacturing processes, helping industries identify energy-saving opportunities and enhance operational efficiency.

Residential Sector: As smart home technology gains popularity, digital power meters are becoming a central component of home energy management systems, allowing homeowners to monitor and control their energy usage remotely.

Commercial Buildings: Office complexes, retail spaces, and other commercial buildings are adopting digital power meters to comply with energy efficiency regulations and improve sustainability.

Utility Companies: Utility companies are deploying digital power meters for their customers to provide accurate billing based on actual consumption and enable demand-side management programs.

Opportunity:

Data Analytics and IoT Integration: The opportunity lies in enhancing digital power meters with advanced data analytics and integration with the Internet of Things (IoT). This can enable predictive maintenance, anomaly detection, and real-time energy optimization.

Demand Response Programs: Digital power meters open up opportunities for demand response programs where energy consumption can be adjusted in response to grid conditions. This creates potential revenue streams for consumers and businesses.

Energy Auditing Services: The accurate and detailed data provided by digital power meters can lead to the growth of energy auditing services. Energy consultants can analyze the data and recommend energy-saving measures to clients.

Renewable Energy Tracking Services: Businesses and homeowners with renewable energy systems may require tracking services to monitor the energy generated, consumed, and fed back into the grid. Digital power meters can offer such tracking capabilities.

Energy Management Solutions: Companies can develop comprehensive energy management solutions that integrate digital power meters with software platforms for holistic energy monitoring, analysis, and optimization.

Market Expansion: As digital power meter technology advances, there is an opportunity for market expansion into regions where energy efficiency initiatives are gaining traction.

The digital power meter market is evolving in response to increasing energy awareness, technology advancements, and changing energy landscapes. This creates opportunities for innovation and growth across various sectors and applications.

 Challenges: The digital power meter market also faces certain challenges, including:

• Cost Constraints: The price of digital power metres may prevent their adoption, particularly in markets where prices are sensitive. To meet this issue, manufacturers must concentrate on cost reduction and provide competitive pricing.

• Compatibility and Interoperability: When integrating digital power metres with current energy management systems or smart grid infrastructure, interoperability problems may occur. For seamless integration and functionality, compatibility and standardisation are crucial.

• Data Security and Privacy: As sensitive energy consumption data is collected and transmitted by digital power metres, guaranteeing data security and preserving customer privacy are significant issues that need to be resolved by putting in place effective cybersecurity measures.

Overall, the digital power meter market offers significant opportunities driven by energy efficiency initiatives, smart grid deployment, and growing awareness of energy management. Addressing challenges related to cost, compatibility, and data security will be crucial for sustained market growth.

 By visiting our website or contacting us directly, you can explore the availability of specific reports related to this market. These reports often require a purchase or subscription, but we provide comprehensive and in-depth information that can be valuable for businesses, investors, and individuals interested in this market.

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Market Segmentations:

Global Digital Power Meter Market: By Company

• General Electric

• Toshiba

• Wasison Group Holdings

• ABB

• Eaton

• Holley Metering

• Siemens

• Itron

• Landis+Gyr

• Schneider Electric

• Honeywell

• Jiaxing Eastron Electronic Instruments

• Kamstrup

• LINYANG Energy

• Murata

• Simpson Electric

Global Digital Power Meter Market: By Type

• Single Phase

• Three Phase

Global Digital Power Meter Market: By Application

• Residential

• Commercial

• Industrial

Global Digital Power Meter Market: Regional Analysis

The global Digital Power Metre market's regional analysis sheds light on how the market has performed in various parts of the world. The research contains a market prognosis for the predicted period and is based on current and upcoming trends. The following nations are included in the regional analysis of the digital power metre market report:

North America: The North America region includes the U.S., Canada, and Mexico. The U.S. is the largest market for Digital Power Meter in this region, followed by Canada and Mexico. The market growth in this region is primarily driven by the presence of key market players and the increasing demand for the product.

Europe: The Europe region includes Germany, France, U.K., Russia, Italy, Spain, Turkey, Netherlands, Switzerland, Belgium, and Rest of Europe. Germany is the largest market for Digital Power Meter in this region, followed by the U.K. and France. The market growth in this region is driven by the increasing demand for the product in the automotive and aerospace sectors.

Asia-Pacific: The Asia-Pacific region includes Singapore, Malaysia, Australia, Thailand, Indonesia, Philippines, China, Japan, India, South Korea, and Rest of Asia-Pacific. China is the largest market for Digital Power Meter in this region, followed by Japan and India. The market growth in this region is driven by the increasing adoption of the product in various end-use industries, such as automotive, aerospace, and construction.

Middle East and Africa: The Middle East and Africa region includes Saudi Arabia, U.A.E, South Africa, Egypt, Israel, and Rest of Middle East and Africa. The market growth in this region is driven by the increasing demand for the product in the aerospace and defense sectors.

South America: The South America region includes Argentina, Brazil, and Rest of South America. Brazil is the largest market for Digital Power Meter in this region, followed by Argentina. The market growth in this region is primarily driven by the increasing demand for the product in the automotive sector.

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Market Analysis and Forecasts: These reports provide detailed analysis and forecasts of market trends, growth rates, and future market scenarios. They help businesses understand the current market landscape and anticipate future market developments, enabling them to plan and allocate resources accordingly.

Competitive Intelligence: Global research market reports provide a competitive landscape analysis, including information about key market players, their market share, strategies, and product portfolios. This information helps businesses understand their competitors' strengths and weaknesses, identify market gaps, and develop strategies to gain a competitive advantage.

Industry Trends and Insights: These reports offer insights into industry-specific trends, emerging technologies, and regulatory frameworks. Understanding industry dynamics and staying updated on the latest trends can help businesses identify growth opportunities and stay ahead in a competitive market.

Investment and Expansion Opportunities: Global research market reports provide information about investment opportunities, potential markets for expansion, and emerging growth areas. These reports help businesses identify untapped markets, assess the feasibility of investments, and make informed decisions regarding expansion strategies.

Risk Mitigation: Market reports provide risk assessment and mitigation strategies. By analyzing market dynamics, potential challenges, and regulatory frameworks, businesses can proactively identify risks and develop strategies to mitigate them, ensuring better risk management and decision-making.

Cost and Time Efficiency: Conducting comprehensive market research independently can be time-consuming and expensive. Purchasing a global research market report provides a cost-effective and time-efficient solution, saving businesses valuable resources while still gaining access to reliable and detailed market information.

Decision-Making Support: Global research market reports serve as decision-making tools by providing data-driven insights and analysis. Businesses can rely on these reports to support their decision-making process, validate assumptions, and evaluate the potential outcomes of different strategies.

In general, market research studies offer companies and organisations useful data that can aid in making decisions and maintaining competitiveness in their industry. They can offer a strong basis for decision-making, strategy formulation, and company planning.

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[meganegatari]

regret & saudade; loose threads⭑.ᐟ

Made to attend a basement party in your heartbroken state, you come face to face with Ellie—your ex, the one you can’t forget. Tension lingers in every glance, every remark, as saudade thrums between you, a love lost but never gone. In the haze of liquor and longing, the night may unravel—and even reignite.

☆: this a collab with the loveliest of lovely people, @bloodstainedsapphic ♡ musing about this with you was the most fun thing ever, i don't know how i'll ever be able to express just how talented you are, and how thankful i am for all your contributions here!! ...i mean chat, all the credit goes to lyss. i'm serious!! thank you sm lyssbug, and i better see yall thanking her too!! hope y'all enjoy :) ellie's m.list.

◇: 18+ mdni. alcohol consumption, ellie’s a little mean (she's hurt), reader as well + tension, tension, and more tension. whiny sub!ellie x mouthy dom(ish)!reader, oral & nipple sucking (e! recieving), and she has hip tattoos lol. also contains angsty themes and a purposely ambiguous ending. ++ 3.6k word count.

Getting dragged out of bed for a basement party hosted by a friend of a friend was the last thing you wanted tonight. Yet, here you were, begrudgingly getting ready—much to your dismay—to indulge your friends’ wishes.

Parties weren’t exactly a common occurrence in Jackson, at least not ones that didn’t involve the community church. Hardly anyone bothered to put energy into organizing gatherings for the young folk to get drunk and act recklessly when survival took precedence. Still, once in a blue moon, someone made an effort, and word spread fast.

Yes, you understood why your friends insisted. They meant well. This was a rare chance, and they were worried about you, trying to pull you out of the misery pit you had plummeted into recently. Woe is you for having people who care, even if their grand solution included shuffling you into a crowded, musty room with cheap booze for a few hours.

But this was also the last party you wanted to be at for one crucial reason: your ex, Ellie, was bound to be there.

Your ex wasn’t any more of a party animal than you were, but you were sure the extroverted mutual friends who had adopted you both had undoubtedly coaxed her into going, just as they had with you.

There was simply no sugarcoating it. You had been drowning in the throes of heartbreak hell in the weeks since you and Ellie broke up. The decision itself was “mutual”—whatever the fuck that meant. Anyone with half-open eyes could recognize that unresolved feelings were lurking beneath the surface.

But still, you were somehow convinced that Ellie was coping with the heartache better than you. Mainly because you were managing it so terribly, it’d be difficult for her to be in worse shape. The thought of seeing her and proving your suspicions either way made your stomach churn.

Conjuring up the will to act like a functioning human for the night, you finally joined Jesse half a block away from the house and made your way over.

The space wasn’t anything special. Just another grungy basement, stuffy with age and ever-rotating crowds of partygoers. The wallpaper peeled, curling inward on itself, and the flooring was adorned with decades’ worth of spills and stains. A decent time hinged on the hope that everyone would get wasted enough to forget the unsavory details.

The liquor was crowdsourced—meaning passable but plentiful. Your beeline to the booze might have earned a few raised eyebrows, but you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.

Ellie’s eyes found you just as you were taking in the low-lit room.

Already nestled in a corner and nursing her umpteenth drink, she was just intoxicated enough to sharpen her spite but not enough to embolden her to speak up—yet. You didn’t take long to find her either, carefully coordinating fleeting glances and using purposeful posturing to feign indifference.

Ellie tracked your every move, attentive to your every step and person you conversed with.

There was some mutual delusion: Ellie misread your avoidance as proof that you were doing just fine, and you misread her detachment in a similar vein. You both assumed the other was moving on when nothing could have been further from the truth.

Ellie had opted for a darker outfit than usual, all black, practically wearing the heartache on her sleeve. Her loosely buttoned cotton shirt hung amply off her frame, adding to her almost ghostly appearance. Her auburn hair, slicked back and muted, due for a wash, looked much less lively than it used to. The speckled ivy green of Ellie’s eyes had dulled, something far more monotone. Her undereye bags lay heavier, cheeks hollowed, a gauntness that was concerning for a girl already thin. Maybe you’d make a snide comment for Dina to pass on just to get her fed—not that you cared. You just didn’t like seeing the girl look like a husk of your Ellie- err, the one you used to know.

And—fuck. That necklace. It looked an awful lot like the one that had vanished from your nightstand months ago.

Wearing it was all but a confession of Ellie’s true feelings—that her apathy was merely a poorly executed act.

You slammed back the first drink too quickly, the burn hardly registering in your throat. The second glass didn’t fare any better. After a few more pours, the alcohol softened your edginess enough to lax you into joining conversations, to dance, to let your friends pull you into something resembling fun—even striking up idle chatter with a few pretty girls, acting as if it wasn’t just to dull the ache.

An indiscernible span of time passed, your focus clouding into a haze that lets you briefly forget the grievous weight in your chest, even if it didn’t wholly undo it.

Then, a brief yet audacious tap on your shoulder.

You already knew who it was from the distinct way her pointer fingers pressed into your skin.

“You’re out tonight?” Ellie bit out as a greeting, her suffering more pronounced now that she had closed the distance. Her stare, once dimmed, had reignited, brimming anew with an irate temper. Ellie wasn’t the jealous type, but the combination of alcohol and the sight of you mingling with other girls stirred something unfamiliar and ugly within her.

“I am. are you?” You asked snarkily, starting with the obvious of this tense reunion.

Ellie’s eyes twitched, brows furrowing. Your response went unappreciated but was understandably deserved. She wet her lips to buy another second before spitting out another question, too quickly to be casual.

“You come with anyone?”

Your eyes glossed over with irritation, this being the first conversation Ellie had dragged you into after weeks of silence. Her question seemed like a placeholder for everything else she wanted to say, though it came out too bluntly. The people you’d been distracting yourself with blurred into the background now that Ellie was here, her nerves showing with every crack in her composure.

“Nope,” you snipped. “You?”

“Nope,” she replied, exaggeratedly popping her lips at the ‘p’ sound. It sounded forced, like she was trying to make herself sound more confident than she felt.

Ellie shifted her weight onto one hip, her gaze raking a slow once-over of your form. Pretending she didn’t already have your every dip and curve memorized. Your eyes flicked across the room, grasping for any excuse to escape this friction, but naturally, the friends who had dragged you out tonight were suddenly nowhere to be found.

"Didn't know you were the type to move on so fast, getting cozy with a few girls over there..." Ellie remarked, her voice hung with bitterness, not even trying to hide her hurt there.

Your jaw clenched, miffed by the implication behind her words. "Didn't know you were the type to care. Or even notice..."

“Pfft. I don’t. Just funny watching you act like you’re over it,” Ellie replied, trying to play it cool, but her voice cracked, betraying her defensiveness.

You narrowed your eyes. “That right?”

Ellie shrugged, drawing another lazy sip from her glass. “Yeah. s’cute, really. Watching you pretend.”

Your blood boiled at the way she said it, like she wasn’t just as much of a wreck as you. Like she hadn’t been staring at you all night.

“Ellie, you’re not cool enough to act like this-“ you rip into her with a sneer. You never pictured you’d speak to each other in such a way, but harshness felt like the only language you shared left, especially in tandem with her own cruel barbs.

Ellie’s tongue poked the inside of her cheek, a tell she’d never grown out of. The callout cut deep, knowing you still saw right through her. Ellie’s fingers started to tap the length of the glass, keeping a rhythm to compensate for the fidgeting she often did when nervous. Another tell she couldn’t hide.

“Yeah, okay,” her voice wavered, but then she turned her attention to finishing her glass swiftly, struggling to cling to that false bravado that was irking you past your breaking point.

“Ellie—” you spat her name venomously, shielding your sadness with anger. “If you have something you want to say, we can go somewhere else.”

Ellie’s cheeks roseated, the weight of you threatening her to put her money where her mouth is sinking in. The liquor had clearly obscured her foresight into the risks of confronting you so impudently.

Not letting Ellie another chance to deflect, you grabbed a fistful of her onyx-colored shirt sleeve and tugged her from the foggy crowd to an isolated corner, into a dark hallway, finally ducking into a cramped, dingy storage room long left unfinished. You shut the door. no working lock. Just great.

In the time you had fiddled with the old, janky handle, Ellie had already slipped back into the jaded facade she wore at the start of your encounter. The awkward, needy girl was buried deep, but not deep enough. The blush on her cheeks, the stutter in her words, the way her breath hitched when you got too close—proof enough she wasn’t as composed as she wanted you to think.

You just had to figure out how to crack her open.

Stepping closer, you caught that false smirk creeping back onto her lips. You wanted to smack that cheshire grin off her face, but the fragility you could see in her eyes—despite her best efforts to conceal it—only fueled your fire.

“You’re so goddamn frustrating,” you snap, voice raw with irritation. “Thought maybe for once you could talk to me like a normal person-or, imagine, like the girl you claimed to love-”

Ellie swallowed thickly as you came closer with every word. Hell, she looked so good, even in this state. The scent of alcohol on her breath, the sliver of skin peeking through the buttons of her top, the closeness of her rouge lips—it was causing the last of your composure to slip. Your heart raced as the room seemed to shrink, leaving only the two of you.

If words weren’t enough, maybe a more physical approach would crumble her defenses.

In that moment, a sly grin spread across your face. Time for a bit of mischief.

Nearly chest-to-chest, breaths merging together, you reach up and begin toying with the hem of Ellie’s cotton shirt, and descend to the gleaming buttons on her jeans. Right as you make contact, you hear her hiss out a sharp breath, the derisive edge in her voice sends a chill down your spine.

“Missed me that much, huh? You were always so impatient.” She clicks her tongue. But you knew Ellie, you knew this was all a “tough-guy” act. She was not going to let you get under her skin so easily, not without a fight.

The chuckle that passes your lips is a scornful sound, her ears perk up in curiosity as to what you're planning.

After a moment of wrestling with the skin-tight denim—she's free. Ellie takes the liberty to pull her shirt up a touch, and the mere sight of her dark, wisplike happy trail leaves your mouth watering. Your eyes flicker up to hers; keenly, expectantly scanning her delicate features.

Most unfortunately, Ellie returns nothing worth celebrating, her facade still clambering to stay mighty. Just observing, cool fern eyes low—almost kubrick-esque—everything still under control. For now.

You continue undressing her, undoing her shirt and exposing her pale torso. Fuck, what a specimen. Eggshell and cinnamon skin, soft and supple as far as the eye can see. The thin fabric clings to her shoulders, and you push it aside to look upon her chest.

Luckily for you, she doesn't believe in bras, letting her dusty pinkish nipples harden when the air grazes her skin. Ellie lets out the quietest sigh, almost inaudible, but you still catch it and throw her a smirk. Her eyes roll, she's still acting unimpressed.

“Keep going then,” she drawls.

You ghost your mouth over her skin, before taking her nipple in between your lips and sucking. You snake your tongue over the bud and gently pinch the other one with two fingers. Still determined to break her, you look up again. She makes no noise, just tilts her head back until it hits the wall supporting her with a dull thud. You had to do more, you needed to.

Moving to press hot kisses in the valley of her chest, you drag your mouth lower, lower, and lower, until you end up on your knees with her still-clothed crotch an inch from the tip of your nose. With her help, her jeans are discarded into a heap to your right. The tight boxer shorts she was wearing hugged her lean thighs in such a way, you couldn't resist lurching forward and sinking your teeth into the flesh.

Above, you hear something resembling a startled gasp—there you go, the beginning of the end.

Making quick work of her undergarment, Ellie leans against the wall, bare before you. You look up once more at her, but in the perfect moment in time to spot a scarlet flush spread from her chest, up her neck, and decorate her cheeks. There's a crease forming in her forehead as well. You spot her hip tattoos, the ink was striking. Running your tongue along the linework, you taste her skin—salty-sweet.

Simultaneously, you drag your hands up and down the sides of her legs, feeling goosebumps rise as you pass over. Her breaths quickly go shaky, her primal need for your mouth on the crescendo of her thighs overtaking her. Slowly but surely, you were achieving your goal.

“God Els, you're so wet. Seems like you missed me more, hmm?” You titter, voice smooth as syrup, to which she grunts almost in annoyance, neither confirming or denying your tease.

“Sure you weren't so desperate, you came here just for me? Because you wanted to get eaten like a slut?” You hear her exhale shake. Your degrading words—like clouds of miasma—infected her entirely, she didn't know whether to be embarrassed or even more turned on.

Fucking finally, your tongue parts her folds; silken and dripping for you. Smoothly moving forward in and pushing her thighs apart, you take more of her into your mouth. The taste of her arousal makes your head spin, and you don't even register the fact you're lightly moaning into her core already. You missed this. You missed her. You missed the feel of her hot skin, her signature Ellie attitude, her sweetness and how she reacted to your touch—even more than you'd like to admit.

Your eyes close instinctively, and you lick a stripe from her needy hole up to her puffy clit, feeling the bud twitch on your tongue. You wrap your lips around it, and she almost wails. Although Ellie, as clever as she is stubborn, stifles her whines with a clenched fist. When you hear the cut-off cry, your gaze snaps upward. she's biting down on her own flesh, hard, her teeth causing the knuckles to discolor. The blush on her cheeks is approaching maroon, obscuring her freckles, and her eyes are screwed shut. She can't hide the tremors or the panting breaths, though.

You keep devouring her, getting more and more drunk the longer her essence invigorates your senses. She pleads for you some more, albeit impolitely, “Hurry- ah—harder, more…”

Your grip on her hips intensifies, nails leaving marks right next to her tattoos, adding to the artistry already there. She begins to whimper, the small, pathetic sounds of an impending defeat causing heat to spread in your own abdomen.

You tongue fuck her into oblivion, pushing the muscle inside her until you feel her walls pulsing around you. Your nose bumps at her clit, eliciting high pitched pleas from her.

At a glance again, you see there's nothing hiding her mouth, and the hand that was aiding her has moved to join her other one—bracing against the wall. You had Ellie utterly wrecked.

She teeters, rickety legs trembling and struggling to hold her upright. A gush of slick runs down your chin, and she squeals. Unable to hold back any longer, she starts begging you to cum.

Her voice is strained, wobbly. “Please, fuck-!! Ah…c'mon…come onnn.”

Music to your ears.

Smiling against her thumping clit, you continue to suck until her rhythmic pants are all you can hear. The climbing volume was more satisfying than you could have ever envisioned and you never wanted to let up.

“Ah, ah, ah— m'so close, pleasepleaseplease.” She pleads with vehemence, damn near calling on divinity to finish. It was ironic really, there was nothing holy about this.

Her pussy seizes and her body tenses before she's hit with the most forceful orgasm she's ever felt. Silent moans choking in her throat, you messily lap at her folds until you feel the flutter, and hear the most beautiful cry of pleasure.

She's loud, unabashedly so, the pornographic nature of the scenario before you making your face grow hotter than the sun. You lick up every drop of warm cum from her, savoring both the ambrosial taste of her, and the sight of her coming undone like this.

Low groans and mumbles transition to high-pitched squeaks, a telltale sign you were entering overwhelming territory. She's sniveling, all semblance of composure long gone. Babbled cries ring through the small space, all she can muster falling out of her, “Fuck, fuck, shit..okay, hahhh—”

You dont let up and fuck her through her high until she shakes above you, seemingly brought to tears by the sensation. You drag your tongue through her folds one last time, just for the hell of it, and to solidify all this in your memory, before kneeling back to examine what you made of her.

Her chest was steadily rising and falling, she was leaning against that solitary wall, legs quaking and about to give, completely out of it.

The blissed out look on her face was ethereal, she was still so pretty. Through everything, you'd always find your way back—lost in those springlike, agate-ringed greens.

You jump up to her level and yank her towards you by her—your—necklace, making her jolt and snap out of the post-orgasm euphoria. Roughly, you crash your lips onto hers. Ellie’s lips part to let your tongue in, and a guttural moan rips out of her when she tastes herself on you.

You gingerly pull away, trying to ignore the ache in your heart that blossoms when you notice her chasing your lips.

The pair of you are winded and still looking at each other with saucer-wide eyes, the intensity of what you did catching up to you as the bliss wore off. Automatically, you reach to hold her hand, but she pulls away and avoids your sympathetic stare. She looks up and down, side to side, pretending to be interested in the peeling wall behind her.

Seeing her uneasiness, you clear your throat. “Ellie, um…you okay?” Your voice is mellow and gentle, the complete opposite of what it sounded like earlier.

Ellie sighs and briskly nods, brushing any and all concern away. She meets your eyes, and you notice the vibrant green dulled once again—almost appearing gray, like wilted leaves amidst a drought.

Her expression was hard to read. Her cheeks are flushed and her skin is glossy, indicating physical satisfaction, but there was a certain longing there too. The way she fidgeted with her fingers, the way she pursed her lips ever so slightly—she misses you.

You absentmindedly begin to collect yourself, wiping the remnants of her from the lower half of your face, all while readjusting your shirt. You turn towards her, buttoning up Ellie's shirt and straightening the collar—you give her a meek smile when she lets you fix her up, both of you unsure of what to say. The air feels odd, not quite heavy, but cold. “Let's go back, play it cool.” You chuckle and attempt to crack a joke to lighten the awkward mood. Ellie simply huffs.

Accepting that it’s time to snap back to reality. You breathe in a sharp breath to compose and ground yourself. “I miss you, come back to me", was sitting just behind your teeth, but you steeled yourself and pushed those old feelings away.

It was too soon to unpack anything right now. Not to mention both of you still being drunk—in more ways than one.

Ellie starts, “We should leave separately, y'know, so no one suspects anything.”

“Oh for sure, yeah. Go- go, before everyone starts asking questions-“ you usher Ellie out with an instinctive hand pressed to her back, all but throwing her out of that cramped, now-suffocating space for the sake of avoiding becoming the town’s gossip. In Jackson, rumors tended to spread faster than a wildfire.

Ellie left, and you were all alone in the space. Your body's framework crumples weakly against a corner, overcome with emotion. You couldn't help but reminisce—silently lamenting for her in the dim, stuffy room.

But there was still a party going on, if you stayed in there any longer, it would become suspicious rather fast. You push thoughts of Ellie away into the abyss where you made sure the padlock was not planning on breaking. You threw the key away, but for good this time, you vowed to yourself.

Ellie had likely whisked herself away into the kitchen to get a light snack—you remembered that sex always made her hungry afterward.

You hear a familiar song start playing from the main room, something you could try to sway along to and you put on a faint smile—as genuine as you could muster, hoping to rejoin conversations as casually as you had left them. You slip out of the small storage space, closing the door behind you, hoping it’s not symbolic of where things stand with Ellie.

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[zvaigzdelasas]

Instead of burning fossil fuels to reach the temperatures needed to smelt steel and cook cement, scientists in Switzerland want to use heat from the sun. The proof-of-concept study uses synthetic quartz to trap solar energy at temperatures over 1,000°C (1,832°F), demonstrating the method’s potential role in providing clean energy for carbon-intensive industries. A paper on the research was published on May 15 in the journal Device.[...]

Glass, steel, cement, and ceramics are at the very heart of modern civilization, essential for building everything from car engines to skyscrapers. However, manufacturing these materials demands temperatures over 1,000°C and relies heavily on burning fossil fuels for heat. These industries account for about 25% of global energy consumption. Researchers have explored a clean-energy alternative using solar receivers, which concentrate and build heat with thousands of sun-tracking mirrors. However, this technology has difficulties transferring solar energy efficiently above 1,000°C.

To boost the efficiency of solar receivers, Casati turned to semitransparent materials such as quartz, which can trap sunlight—a phenomenon called the thermal-trap effect. The team crafted a thermal-trapping device by attaching a synthetic quartz rod to an opaque silicon disk as an energy absorber. When they exposed the device to an energy flux equivalent to the light coming from 136 suns, the absorber plate reached 1,050°C (1,922°F), whereas the other end of the quartz rod remained at 600°C (1,112°F).

“Previous research has only managed to demonstrate the thermal-trap effect up to 170°C (338°F),” says Casati. “Our research showed that solar thermal trapping works not just at low temperatures, but well above 1,000°C. This is crucial to show its potential for real-world industrial applications.”

Using a heat transfer model, the team also simulated the quartz’s thermal-trapping efficiency under different conditions. The model showed that thermal trapping achieves the target temperature at lower concentrations with the same performance, or at higher thermal efficiency for equal concentration. For example, a state-of-the-art (unshielded) receiver has an efficiency of 40% at 1,200°C, with a concentration of 500 suns. The receiver shielded with 300 mm of quartz achieves 70% efficiency at the same temperature and concentration. The unshielded receiver requires at least 1,000 suns of concentration for comparable performance.

17 May 24

[mostlysignssomeportents]

An end to the climate emergency is in our grasp

On June 20, I'm keynoting the LOCUS AWARDS in OAKLAND.

The problem with good news in the real world is that it's messy. Neat happy endings are for novels, not the real world, and that goes double for the climate emergency. But even though good climate news is complicated and nuanced, that doesn't mean it shouldn't buoy our spirits and fill our hearts with hope.

The big climate news this past week is the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration's clarion call about surging CO2 levels – the highest ever – amid a year that is on track to have the largest and most extreme series of weather events in human history:

https://www.noaa.gov/news-release/during-year-of-extremes-carbon-dioxide-levels-surge-faster-than-ever

This is genuinely alarming and you – like me – have probably experienced it as a kind of increase in your background radiation of climate anxiety. Perhaps you – like me – even experienced some acute, sit-bolt-upright-in-bed-at-2AM anxiety as a result. That's totally justifiable. This is very real, very bad news.

And yet…

The news isn't all bad, and even this terrible dispatch from the NOAA is best understood in context, which Bill McKibben provides in his latest newsletter post, "What You Want is an S Curve":

https://billmckibben.substack.com/p/what-you-want-is-an-s-curve

Financier and their critics should all be familiar with Stein's Law: "anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop." This is true outside of finance as well. One of the reasons that we're seeing such autophagic panic from the tech companies is that their period of explosive growth is at an end.

For years, they told themselves that they were experiencing double-digit annual growth because they were "creating value" and "innovating" but the majority of their growth was just a side-effect of the growth of the internet itself. When hundreds of millions of people get online every year, the dominant online services will, on average, gain hundreds of millions of new users.

But when you run out of people who don't have internet access, your growth is going to slow. How can it not? Indeed, at that point, the only ways to grow are to either poach users from your rivals (through the very expensive tactics of massive advertising and sales-support investments, on top of discounts and freebies as switching enticements), or to squeeze your own users for more.

That's why the number of laptops sold in America slowed down. It's why the number of cellphones sold in America slowed down. It's why the number of "smart home" gizmos slowed down.

Even the steepest hockey-stick-shaped exponential growth curve eventually levels off and becomes an S-curve, because anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop.

One way or another, the world's carbon emissions will eventually level off. Even if we drive ourselves to (or over) the brink of extinction and set up the conditions for wildfires that release all the carbon stored in all the Earth's plants, the amount of carbon we pump into the atmosphere has to level off.

Rendering the Earth incapable of sustaining human civilization (or life) is the ultimate carbon reduction method – but it's not my first choice.

That's where McKibben's latest newsletter comes in. He cites a new report from the Rocky Mountain Institute, which shows a major reversal in our energy sources, a shift that will see our energy primarily provided by renewables, with minimal dependence on fossil fuels:

https://rmi.org/insight/the-cleantech-revolution/

The RMI team says that in this year or next, we'll have hit peak demand for fossil fuels (a fact that is consistent with NOAA's finding that we're emitting more CO2 than ever). The reason for this is that so much renewable energy is about to come online, and it is so goddamned cheap, that we are about to undergo a huge shift in our energy consumption patterns.

This past decade saw a 12-fold increase in solar capacity, a 180-fold increase in battery storage, and a 100-fold increase in EV sales. China is leading the world in a cleantech transition, with the EU in close second. Cleantech is surging in places where energy demand is also still growing, like India and Vietnam. Fossil fuel use has already peaked in Thailand, South Africa and every country in Latin America.

We're on the verge of solar constituting an absolute majority of all the world's energy generation. This year, batteries will overtake pumped hydro for energy storage. Every cleantech metric is growing the way that fossil fuels did in previous centuries: investment, patents, energy density, wind turbine rotor size. The price of solar is on track to halve (again) in the next decade.

In short, cleantech growth looks like the growth of other technologies that were once rarities and then became ubiquitous overnight: TV, cellphones, etc. That growth isn't merely being driven by the urgency of the climate emergency: it's primarily a factor of how fucking great cleantech is:

https://rmi.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/the_incredible_inefficiency_of_fossils.pdf

Fossil fuels suck. It's not just that they wreck the planet, or that their extraction is both politically and environmentally disastrous. They just aren't a good way to make energy. About a third of fossil fuel energy is wasted in production and transportation. A third! Another third is wasted turning fossil fuels into energy. Two thirds! The net energy efficiency of fossil fuels is about 37%.

Compare that with cleantech. EVs convert electricity to movement with 80-90% efficiency. Heat pumps are 300% efficient (the main fuel for your heat pump is the heat in the atmosphere, not the electricity it draws).

Cleantech is just getting started – it's still in the hockey-stick phase. That means those efficiency numbers are only going up. Rivian just figured out how to remove 1.6 miles of copper wire from each vehicle. That's just one rev – there's doubtless lots of room for more redesigns that will further dematerialize EVs:

https://insideevs.com/news/722265/rivian-r1s-r1t-wiring/

As McKibben points out, there's been a lot of justifiable concern that electrification will eventually use up all our available copper, but copper demand has remained flat even as electrification has soared – and this is why. We keep figuring out new ways to electrify with fewer materials:

https://www.chemanalyst.com/NewsAndDeals/NewsDetails/copper-wire-price-remains-stable-amidst-surplus-supply-and-expanding-mining-25416#:~:text=Global%20Copper%20wire%20Price%20Remains%20Stable%20Amidst%20Surplus%20Supply%20and%20Expanding%20Mining%20Activities

This is exactly what happened with previous iterations of tech. The material, energy and labor budgets of cars, buildings, furniture, etc all fell precipitously every time there was a new technique for manufacturing them. Renewables are at the start of that process. There's going to be a lot of this dematerialization in cleantech. Calculating the bill of materials for a planetary energy transition isn't a matter of multiplying the materials in current tech by the amount of new systems we'll need – as we create those new systems, we will constantly whittle down their materials.

What's more, global instability drives cleantech uptake. The Russian invasion of Ukraine caused a surge in European renewables. The story that energy prices are rising due to renewables (or carbon taxes) is a total lie. Fossil fuels are getting much more expensive, thanks to both war and rampant, illegal price-fixing:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/an-oil-price-fixing-conspiracy-caused

If not for renewables, the incredible energy shocks of the recent years would be far more severe.

The renewables story is very good and it should bring you some comfort. But as McKibben points out, it's still not enough – yet. The examples of rapid tech uptake had big business on their side. America's living rooms filled with TV because America's largest businesses pulled out all the stops to convince everyone to buy a TV. By contrast, today's largest businesses – banks, oil companies and car companies – are working around the clock to stop cleantech adoption.

We're on track to double our use of renewables before the decade is over. But to hold to the (already recklessly high) targets from the Paris Accord, we need to triple our renewables usage. As McKibben says, the difference between doubling and tripling our renewables by 2030 is the difference between "survivable trouble" and something much scarier.

The US is experiencing a welcome surge in utility scale solar, but residential solar is stalling out as governments withdraw subsidies or even begin policies that actively restrict rooftop solar:

https://twitter.com/curious_founder/status/1798049929082097842?s=51

McKibben says the difference between where we are now and bringing back the push for home solar generation is the difference between "fast" and "faster" – that is the difference between tripling renewables by 2030 (survivable) and doubling (eek).

Capitalism stans who argue that we can survive the climate emergency with market tools will point to the good news on renewable and say that the market is the only way to transition to renewables. It's true that market forces are partly responsible for this fast transition. But the market is also the barrier to a faster (and thus survivable) transition. The oil companies, the banks who are so invested in fossil fuels, the petrostates who distort the world's politics – they're why we're not much farther along.

The climate emergency was never going to be neatly solved. We weren't going to get a neat novelistic climax that saw our problems sorted out in a single fell swoop. We're going to be fighting all the way to net zero, and after that, we'll still have decades of climate debt to pay down: fires, floods, habitat loss, zoonotic plagues, refugee crises.

But we should take our wins. Even if we're far from where we need to be on renewables, we're much farther along on renewables than we had any business hoping for, just a few years ago. The momentum is on our side. It's up to us to use that momentum and grow it. We're riding the hockey-stick, they're on that long, flat, static top of the S-curve. Their curve is leveling off and will start falling, ours will grow like crazy for the rest of our lives.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/12/s-curve/#anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-eventually-stops

[yunholic-jongholic]

Dreambound Seduction [Part 1] | OT8 Ateez x Succubus!Reader

SUMMARY | You were sent to Earth with a mission—to observe and ensnare eight men, all untouched and inexperienced. Your task was to infiltrate their dreams, seduce them, and make them yours. Though this was your first time carrying out such a mission, failure wasn’t an option. You had to ensure they craved you, surrendering themselves unknowingly, so you could feed off their energy and sustain your own existence.

PAIRINGS | OT8 Virgin!Ateez x Fem!Reader

RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS | NSFW, Smut, Explicit Content, Hell Setting, Bar Setting, Teasing, Alcohol Consumption, Sex-Dreaming? (Idk the term?), Unprotected Sex (Don't Do It!), Possessiveness, Oral Sex (Reader Giving), Somnophilia (Not entirely...), Cursing, Creampie, Cum-Eating, Praising, Succubus AU/Hell AU, (I might be missing some)

WORD COUNT | 3.1k

AUTHORS NOTE | This is the first chapter. I will be going down the list. Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho. All Ateez members are Virgin in this story. Reader uses she/her pronouns and is female and has female body parts in this story. This chapter is Hongjoong focused.

TAG LIST | @mingisleftnipple

•

You were summoned to Earth by your higher authorities and given a mission—track down eight specific men, infiltrate their dreams, seduce them, and drain their souls.

Though this was your first time undertaking such a task, you had a carefully crafted plan and the confidence to make all eight fall at your feet, desperate for your touch.

Your mother, Lilith, had warned you about these men. They were all virgins, a close-knit group of friends, making them easy prey. With no experience with women, they wouldn’t suspect a thing—making this the perfect assignment for you.

"Y/N, you need to start feeding," Lilith reminded you, her voice laced with authority. "Every week, you must consume energy, or your power will weaken. And if you go too long without it… you could die. Which is something I refuse to let happen."

You nodded, taking in your mother’s words. The weight of your mission settled in, but deep down, you knew you were more than capable.

Your eyes flickered toward your first target—Hongjoong. Watching him from a distance, you studied his movements, his habits, the way he carried himself. This was your first real hunt, and despite your confidence, you knew you couldn’t just dive in recklessly.

No, you needed a plan. A strategy that would lure him in without suspicion. Something that would make him trust you, crave you, need you before he even realized what was happening.

A slow smirk curled at your lips.

It was time to begin.

Shifting into your human form, you descended onto Earth, instantly met by a biting cold breeze. Snowflakes drifted down around you, dusting the ground in a shimmering white blanket.

You exhaled sharply, watching your breath fog up in the icy air, and instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself, searching for something warmer to wear.

"Ugh, in Hell, we don’t have this freezing-ass weather!" you muttered under your breath, already loathing the chill that bit at your skin.

Closing your eyes, you focused, allowing the vision of your first target to take shape in your mind. His name was Hongjoong. You studied his features, his mannerisms, the way he carried himself. His personality intrigued you—calculated yet charismatic, confident yet holding something deeper beneath the surface.

You needed to learn more.

Following his trail, you discovered he was heading to a bar. A perfect setting. A place where temptation and desire flowed as freely as the drinks. If you played this right, he’d be the one inviting you home—unknowingly sealing his fate. With a smirk, you made your way there, ready to lure him in and feed off his essence.

Stepping into the bar, the dim lighting and low hum of music set the perfect atmosphere for your game. Your eyes immediately landed on Hongjoong—sitting alone, sipping his drink, lost in thought. Without hesitation, you made your way over, slipping onto the stool beside him, initially keeping to yourself.

You could feel his gaze flicker toward you, his curiosity already piqued. That was your cue. Turning slightly, you met his eyes with a soft, innocent smile, playing your role flawlessly.

"Hello," you greeted sweetly, letting your voice carry a gentle warmth.

Hongjoong’s lips curled into a small smile in return. That was a good sign—he was open, receptive.

You glanced down at the menu, humming thoughtfully before tilting your head toward him. “What do you usually order here? I need help with suggestions…” you asked, feigning uncertainty as you ran a finger along the menu’s pages.

It was such a simple question, yet it served its purpose. It gave him a reason to engage, to offer his opinion, to start falling into the web you were weaving.

As you and Hongjoong exchanged greetings and eased into conversation, the air between you grew more comfortable. He seemed intrigued, his attention locked on you, just as you intended.

But before you could push further, the bartender called out his name.

You watched as Hongjoong turned his head toward the bar, acknowledging the call before letting out a small sigh. “Looks like it’s my turn,” he murmured, setting down his drink.

Your curiosity piqued as he stood up, making his way toward the small stage in the corner of the bar. That’s when it clicked—he was a musician. You observed as he adjusted the mic, exchanging a few words with the bartender before grabbing a guitar.

So, that’s what he did here.

Leaning back in your seat, you smirked slightly. This was unexpected but not unwelcome. If anything, it only made things more interesting.

Watching him now, seeing the way he carried himself under the dim stage lights, you realized something—this was going to be even easier than you thought.

As Hongjoong played his set, your mind raced with possibilities. This was your first real mission, yet strangely, it felt like second nature—like you had done this before in another life. You weighed your options carefully, considering the best way to lead him deeper into your trap without raising suspicion.

Still, you played along perfectly, clapping and cheering after every song, making sure he knew your eyes were only on him. You didn’t have to fake your admiration—his talent was undeniable, and the way he lost himself in the music only made him more vulnerable to your influence.

Between songs, you caught his gaze, and every time, he smiled at you—small, bashful, but undeniably pleased by your attention.

Good. He was already seeking your approval.

Leaning forward slightly, you rested your chin on your hand, letting your expression soften, as if you were completely enamored.

By the end of his set, you knew—he was already yours. He just didn’t realize it yet.

Hongjoong ended and packed his items, it was almost midnight. You complimented his music as he sat back down beside you.

Hongjoong’s eyes met yours, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer than before. There was a certain softness in the way he looked at you, a quiet admiration that was steadily growing.

“You’re very beautiful, by the way…” he murmured, his voice carrying just enough sincerity to make it clear that he meant every word.

You let your lips curl into a soft, bashful smile, lowering your gaze slightly as if flustered. “Thank you,” you replied sweetly, pretending to be shy, though deep down, you were reveling in his attention.

Then, tilting your head, you let your voice dip into something a little softer, a little more inviting. “You’re handsome yourself…” you hummed, watching for his reaction.

His breath hitched slightly, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. His reaction told you everything—you had him wrapped around your finger, and he didn’t even know it yet.

Hongjoong shifted in his seat before pulling himself up, rubbing the back of his neck as if trying to shake off an invisible weight. “I… should probably get going,” he muttered, though he sounded hesitant, almost reluctant to leave.

You sighed, pretending to be a little disappointed but not stopping him. “Of course,” you said softly, offering a small, understanding smile. Letting him walk away was part of the plan—you needed him to think he was in control when, in reality, he never had been.

Once he was out of sight, you slipped out of the bar and into a nearby alleyway. With a smirk, you allowed your human form to dissolve, your body shifting back into its true state. The cold air crackled around you as you summoned your power, teleporting yourself to a vantage point where you could watch him from the shadows.

You observed as Hongjoong moved through his nightly routine, oblivious to your presence. He changed into something more comfortable, stretched, and finally slid into bed, exhaustion settling over him.

That was your cue.

With a single thought, you willed yourself into his room, your form materializing in the darkness. The soft hum of energy surrounded you as you stood near his bedside, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Now, the real game was about to begin.

Stepping closer to his bed, you reached out, your fingertips just barely grazing Hongjoong’s forehead. The moment your touch connected, a surge of energy flowed between you, allowing you to slip seamlessly into his subconscious.

Inside his dreams, you made sure there was nothing but you. You shaped the world around him, bending it to your will—your presence intoxicating, your touch lingering, your voice a soft whisper in the air. Every sensation, every emotion, was designed to pull him deeper into desire, to make him crave you in ways he wouldn’t understand once he woke.

You withdrew your hand, watching as his body reacted. His breath grew uneven, his fingers gripping at the sheets. His face flushed, his lips parting slightly as he shifted in his sleep, clearly lost in the fantasy you had crafted for him.

A wicked smirk curled at your lips.

It was working. He was already falling under your spell, already aching for something—someone—he believed was just a dream.

And when he woke up, that longing wouldn’t fade. If anything, it would only grow stronger.

He wouldn’t be able to escape you now.

You stood there, watching intently as Hongjoong writhed in his sleep, his breathing heavy and uneven. His body responded instinctively to the dream, his hands gripping the sheets, his lips parting ever so slightly as he shifted restlessly.

Curiosity flickered within you. What exactly was he seeing? How vividly had he fallen into your crafted fantasy? You had designed it to make him crave you, to consume his thoughts and body with need—but still, you wondered what details his own mind had filled in.

A mischievous smirk tugged at your lips.

That’s when you decided—it was time to wake him.

Moving fluidly, you crawled onto the bed, hovering just above him, your face mere inches from his. The warmth of his body radiated beneath you, his scent intoxicatingly close. You could hear his heart pounding, even in his sleep.

Slowly, you leaned in, your breath ghosting against his ear as you whispered, “Wake up, Hongjoong…”

His body tensed at the sound of your voice, his eyes fluttering open. And the moment his dazed gaze met yours, you knew—he was already yours. You saw his eyes were dark and much filled with lust and arousal.

"Y/N...?" He breathed out sitting up. You smirked seeing how ready he was to be taken.

Your hands ghosted over his chest as you hovered above him, watching the way his body shivered under your touch.

Leaning down, you brushed your lips against his, slow and teasing, savoring the way his breath hitched at the contact. Then, you pressed in deeper, kissing him softly at first, letting him drown in you, letting him fall completely into your trap.

Hongjoong’s hands instinctively found their way to your waist, his touch gentle yet filled with growing desire as your lips remained locked in a heated kiss.

"You taste so sweet…" he murmured breathlessly against your lips.

A smirk tugged at yours just as you felt him bite down on your bottom lip, the sensation only fueling the fire between you.

As the heat between you intensified, clothes were slowly discarded, fabric slipping away with every movement. Hongjoong’s grip tightened, pulling you closer with a desperate need that sent a shiver down your spine.

Straddling his lap, you felt the warmth of his body press against yours, his breath hot against your skin. His lips trailed down your neck, each kiss growing more fervent until his teeth grazed your flesh, biting down just enough to leave his mark.

There was something almost possessive in the way he held you, as if he couldn’t stand the thought of you slipping away.

"Shit… I can't take this. I need you now," Hongjoong growled, his voice thick with desperation as he pinned you beneath him.

His body hovered over yours, his gaze dark and filled with raw hunger. You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, the corners of your lips curling into a knowing smirk.

Placing your hands softly against his chest, you traced slow, teasing circles over his skin, feeling the way his heart pounded beneath your fingertips.

"Then take me," you whispered, your voice smooth and inviting, luring him in even deeper.

Hongjoong immediately shoved himself deep into you, letting you slip out a lewd moan.

Hongjoong’s grip on you tightened as he pulled you closer, his body pressing firmly against yours. His breath was ragged, his movements desperate, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer.

A low groan rumbled from his chest as he pinned your wrists above your head, his fingers wrapping around them with firm possession. His eyes, dark with hunger, locked onto yours as he moved, his touch searing against your skin.

A moan escaped your lips, your body arching instinctively beneath him. You reveled in the sensation, in the way his control faltered against you. But he had yet to realize—he was never the one in control.

A sly smirk played at your lips as you flexed your strength, effortlessly slipping your wrists free from his grasp. Before he could react, your hands found their way to his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin, claiming him as yours.

Hongjoong let out a strained breath, his resolve wavering under your touch. His body trembled slightly, not from fear—but from the undeniable pull you had over him.

“You thought you were in charge?” you purred, your voice velvety smooth, laced with dominance.

His lips parted, his breath heavy, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t have to.

Both of you were breathless, bodies slick with sweat, the heat between you lingering in the air. You normally would have found the sensation uncomfortable, but Hongjoong seemed to revel in it—his fingers tracing over your damp skin, his eyes clouded with something between exhaustion and desire.

"You are so addictive…" he breathed out heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself, bucking his hips deep into you.

A smirk curled at your lips as you watched him, completely spent yet still craving you. His words only confirmed what you already knew—he was falling, deeper and deeper, completely wrapped around your finger.

Leaning in, you ghosted your lips over his ear, your voice a sultry whisper. “And you’ve only had a taste.” His breath hitched as you spoke.

His lips immediately interlocked with yours, you were now moaning against his lips. It wasn't long before you finally felt his cock twitch inside you, and you smirked knowing it was time. You continued moaning as his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic.

"Y/N!" He moaned as he finally came inside, you felt the warm liquid fill inside you.

Hongjoong barely managed to pull out before his body gave out, his strength drained as he collapsed onto the bed, chest heaving. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his body trembling slightly from exhaustion.

You, on the other hand, felt invigorated—alive. A rush of energy coursed through your veins, filling you with newfound power. This was what you craved, what you were created for.

Smirking, you sat up, tilting your head as you watched him struggle to catch his breath. His body was weak, vulnerable—just as you intended.

“Poor thing,” you cooed, running a hand down his damp chest. “You gave me exactly what I needed.”

Hongjoong tried to respond, but his words came out in a faint, breathless murmur. His body may have been spent, but his soul… oh, his soul was still so full of life, still ripe for the taking.

And you weren’t quite finished with him yet.

You needed more of him. You traced your fingers down his chest to his stomach and wrapped your fingers around his shaft tightly.

He only breathed out feeling extremely weak underneath your touch. You licked your lips as you started moved your head down and pressed your lips against his tip.

feeling the way his breath shuddered beneath your touch. His body was weak and drained.

"I know you got more in you..." you whispered finally taking his entire cock into your mouth bobbing your head up and down.

Hongjoong groaned softly, his head lolling to the side as he tried to gather himself. "I… I can't…" he breathed out, his voice barely above a whisper. His limbs felt heavy; his strength completely sapped. He couldn’t even lift himself from the bed.

You popped him out of your mouth and exhaled softly before speaking.

"Oh, love," you purred, leaning in just enough so he could feel the warmth of your breath. "You don't have to do anything… just let me take care of you." You whispered against him, before taking him back into your mouth.

It wasn't long before Hongjoong came again. This time you took it all in your mouth not leaving a single drop untouched.

You lifted your head, observing Hongjoong as his eyelids grew heavier, his body completely spent and on the verge of passing out. His breathing was slow, deep, and laced with exhaustion—the aftereffects of what you had taken from him.

A smirk curled at your lips as you leaned down one last time, brushing your fingers over his flushed cheek. “Thank you for tonight,” you whispered, your voice dripping with satisfaction.

Pressing a soft kiss against his cheek, you watched as he barely registered the touch before slipping into unconsciousness.

And with that, you pulled back, letting the shadows consume you once again. Your form faded into the darkness, leaving no trace of your presence behind—except for the lingering warmth on his skin and the aching hunger he’d feel the moment he woke up.

Hongjoong was only the first.

And you had seven more souls to claim.

As the shadows wrapped around you, you re-emerged in another secluded alleyway, your body shifting effortlessly back into your human form. The night air was still crisp, the world blissfully unaware of the power you had just absorbed.

Your lips curled into a satisfied smirk as you thought about what had just transpired. Hongjoong had been easier to claim than you expected—his desire, his vulnerability, his complete surrender. It only fueled your confidence for what was to come next.

Seonghwa.

Your next target.

But there was no need to rush. You had an entire week to plan, to set the perfect trap. Unlike Hongjoong, who had fallen easily under your spell, you suspected Seonghwa might require a different approach.

You thrived on the chase, on the careful manipulation that made them believe it was all their idea. And with Seonghwa, you already had a plan forming in your mind—one that would make his fall even sweeter.

With a final glance at the quiet city around you, you stepped forward, disappearing into the night once more. The game had only just begun.

•

A/N: Sorry, this was a rushed/short chapter! I am finalizing packing and my editor wanted this done by this morning so she could edit it before going home for spring break. :)

E/N: His chest/boobs are squishy, i forgot to add that trait when describing him. sorry HJ-stans.

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The "Luffy's fruit is a Zoan" reveal/retcon was extremely controversial when 1044 was first released; do you think Oda did a good job foreshadowing it?

yes!! it addresses a lot of idle questions i had about luffy's powers for quite some time (while also raising a ton more, of course, but that's the nature of one piece).

(all of my thoughts here and on gear 5 in general owe some credit to @grainjew, who has been my main discussion partner on this topic)

luffy's fruit has always been, from what we've seen, kind of weird for a paramecia? obviously since the categorization of 'paramecia' is sort of a grab bag and a lot less well-defined than logias or zoans, that's kind of a hard claim to make, but generally speaking, most of the paramecia users we see throughout the series do not have their powers always on. (the strongest counter-example i could think of to this trend is brook, and even that is one i think you can argue.) luffy's power is way more passive, in the sense that he doesn't have to activate it- it's just there, always. even seastone and seawater do not make luffy not rubber, they just sap his energy and stop him from stretching himself, as we see as early as arlong park.

that is weird! what we see of most other paramecias is that they have to use their powers intentionally, even when those powers do involve transforming their body in some way, like with mr. 1 or alvida. there's a whole plot in dressrosa about knocking a specific paramecia user unconscious so she'll lose her grip on her power and it'll disappear. luffy will stretch when he is asleep, when he is underwater, and without knowing he's doing it. he's always rubber.

so luffy is weird for a paramecia, though not completely unprecedented. his power has always seemed to me to be... almost logia adjacent, in the sense that he's made from a specific material and all his powers are based on being that material, but that doesn't quite track either. aside from the fact that the thing he's composed of is tangible and, again, he can't turn it off, he clearly has access to a greater level of complexity in his transformations than logias do (whose devil fruit powers seem to be basically a binary system).

which actually leads me to compare him to chopper, who is the zoan we know the best, and who, conveniently, also ate a version of the hito hito no mi.

i think the way luffy and chopper interact with their powers is actually very similar. much like luffy, chopper was fundamentally altered by his consumption of a devil fruit in a way he cannot return from. he can still look like a normal reindeer, but he can never actually be one, because the most important trait his devil fruit gave him was human sentience. and he would still have that if you put him in seastone, he just wouldn't be able to transform. similarly, luffy had his body fundamentally altered by his fruit in a manner he does not seem to be capable of even temporarily reversing. he can't make himself not rubber any more than chopper can return himself to being a normal reindeer.

like chopper, luffy's power progression has been based around finding new ways to transform his body and force it into new and more powerful forms. his gears are roughly comparable to chopper's points. that is zoan stuff! chopper is the main other person we see interact with his fruit in that specific way. so, yeah, i actually do think it does make sense for luffy's power to have actually always been a zoan. at the very least, it makes more sense than him being a paramecia, to me.

however, having said that, i also don't think it's as straightforward as luffy just being a zoan instead of a paramecia. we see that the awakening of his fruit definitely has both paramecia and zoan qualities, since he's transforming both himself and the environment around him, as well as other people. (the wiki puts this down to him being a mythical zoan but i just don't think that's true. kaidou is also a mythical zoan and he is completely baffled by what he's seeing.)

i made a bunch of jokes in discord about luffy being devil fruit nonbinary while i was reading this chapter- there's three genders and you have to pick one, and you can't just go switching it up, etc- and i do think that what luffy's fruit indicates is that the sorting system of devil fruits itself is imperfect. outliers do exist that don't fit cleanly between the lines- which we already knew! just look at katakuri.

[writingwithciara]

married in vegas -quinn hughes-

summary: on a trip to vegas one summer, y/n and quinn are forced to share a room. after a night at the casino, the two of them wake up with rings and matching tattoos, leaving them to question what their relationship really means

word count: 6.9k

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

notes & warnings: lowercase intentional. kinda based off ‘stupid in love’ by MAX. wanted to write a little frenemies-to-lovers fic & was pleasantly surprised with the result. hope you guys like it. there will be a part 2 😊 w: language, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex but no smut

masterlist

“why are you two idiots looking at me like that?” y/n set her suitcase down outside the door and glanced between her best friend and his brother. “jack, please tell me why you guys keep exchanging that look.”

“promise you won’t kill me. or luke.”

“fine. just get on with it.”

“you’re gonna be sharing the room with quinn for the week.”

“okay now you’re just joking. please tell me you’re joking.” she let out a soft chuckle but when she noticed how their looks stayed serious, she stopped. “no. this can’t be happening.”

“i’m sorry but we used a random name picker to determine the room sharing situation.”

“that’s a ridiculous way to choose a roommate. i call a do over.”

“there’s no point in trying, y/n. i already tried to get them to change their minds but those two idiots are dead set on making us miserable all week.” quinn leaned against the doorframe and looked at the three people before him. “oh, want to know the most interesting part?” his voice was laced with sarcasm but y/n easily caught on.

“oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” she pushed past him and stopped in her tracks when she saw the room. “one damn bed? come on, jack. what did i ever do to you guys?”

“oh relax. you act like sharing a room with me is the end of the world.”

“10 minutes ago, the idea was tolerable at best. but now, it’s torturous.”

“ouch.” quinn feigned heartbreak and chuckled. “if i cared, that probably would’ve hurt. but seeing as how i don’t care, i’m gonna move on with my life. feel free to sleep on the chair if you don’t want to share with me.”

“you’re insufferable.” y/n rolled her eyes and went to grab her bag.

“no. allow me.” jack was quick to grab it for her and discard it in the room. “i promise to make this whole thing up to you when we get home.”

“i’ll hold you to that.” y/n sighed and waited for quinn to claim the bed. when he took a little longer in the hallway with his brothers, y/n took the opportunity to lay down. just as she was about to close her eyes, the door opened and quinn walked in. he noticed her laying on the bed and got down to where he could be at eye level with the near-sleeping girl.

“uh, what do you think you’re doing?”

“shhh. trying to nap.” she reached her finger out and dragged it down his face. quinn swatted her hand away in response.

“fine. but move over. i want to sleep too. need the energy for dinner tonight.”

“insufferable i say.” y/n mumbled and scooted to the edge of the bed. quinn walked around it and climbed in.

this was going to be a long week.

🏒❤️🏒❤️🏒❤️🏒

dinner should’ve been easier but for y/n, it was more uncomfortable than the nap she attempted to take a few hours earlier.

“what do you think he’s even doing over there? the waitress is way out of his league.” quinn watched as jack chatted with the waitress up at the hostess podium.

“first of all, if anything, jack is out of her league. he’s too good for anyone. and second, why do you care what he’s doing? at least he’s having fun.” y/n shoved her fork into her desert and nibbled at it.

“i’m starting to think you have a little crush on jack.” quinn smirked, knowing that that’s exactly what was going on.

“what? i do not.” y/n shook her head and went to kick him under the table.

“ouch.” luke winced and rubbed his shin.

“oops. sorry luke. i was aiming for the idiot beside you.” she shot quinn a look and he quickly returned it. “you never told me why you cared so much that he was flirting with the waitress.”

“it doesn’t matter and even if it did, you don’t need to know. it’s none of your business.” quinn’s voice raised a little, causing y/n to shrink back in her seat a bit.

“y-you’re right. it was a stupid question.” she returned her attention to her nearly empty plate.

even though she and quinn weren’t exactly friends, she had never been on the receiving end of one of his rare angry outbursts. she hated to admit it but it stung a little bit.

“do you guys mind if i head back up to the room? i’m exhausted.”

“yeah sure. no problem.” luke looked at his friend and smiled sympathetically. he could tell what quinn said had effected her.

“i’ll be up later.” quinn didn’t even bother to look up as y/n stood up and walked out. and when jack returned to the table, luke told him what happened.

quinn felt bad when he heard luke recall the events he was a part of not even 5 minutes ago. he never intended to hurt y/n.

🏒❤️🏒❤️🏒❤️🏒

the next 3 days, y/n avoided quinn as much as she could. it was difficult when they shared a room and they were both there to spend time with luke and jack.

during group outings, y/n would excuse herself and she would never return, instilling panic in the three brothers. but at night, when quinn would get back to their shared room, he would catch sight of how peaceful the girl looked when she slept.

the first few nights, quinn didn’t want to disturb her so he ended up on the chair in the corner. but on the 4th night, quinn was unable to sleep.

y/n had been tossing and turning for almost an hour before her body sat upright and she started bawling. something bothered her and she searched the room for another presence. her eyes landed on quinn as he rushed over to her.

“hey. what’s wrong?”

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to wake you. p-please go back to sleep, quinn.”

“not until you tell me what you were just dreaming of.” he carefully reached up to wipe her tears off her cheeks, silently urging her to tell him what was on her mind.

30 minutes later and every significant detail of her nightmare had been explained. she feared that jack was growing tired of her friendship and wanted to end it with her.

and even though it was just a dream, quinn felt the urge to make sure his brother would never leave her. he wanted to use any means necessary to make sure if it.

but he knew jack would never do that. he loved y/n tremendously.

just as quinn stood back up and headed for the chair again, y/n stopped him.

“hey, thanks again for listening to my nonsense.”

“it’s not a problem. and it wasn’t nonsense. it was a legitimate fear of yours and i’m glad you felt comfortable enough to share it with me.”

“believe it or not, i’m always comfortable with you, quinn.”

“that’s not what you were saying the first day we got here.” he chuckled.

“that version of me is the old y/n. i’ve matured since then.”

“maybe just a little.” he sat on the chair and tried to get comfortable again. “good night, y/n.”

“quinn, would you mind coming over here to share the bed?” y/n had her back to him so she couldn’t see his eyes widen at the question & he couldn’t see the way her face scrunched up when the words flew out of her mouth. she opened her mouth to take it back but quinn smiled.

“of course i wouldn’t mind sharing tonight.”

“yay.” she laid on her back and stared at the ceiling. her fingers drummed lightly on her stomach and quinn glanced over at her.

“how are you doing now?”

“better. thanks again. jacks usually the person i run to when i have a nightmare, even if he’s involved. but this one would’ve been harder to explain without telling him how i feel.”

“so, you do have feelings for him?” quinn raised an eyebrow and glanced over at her.

“of course i do!” y/n rubbed her face slowly. “i’d be an idiot not to. god, he’s perfect.”

something about the way she talked about jack, stirred something in quinn that he did not recognize.

“yeah. i suppose he is. everyone else thinks so. it was only a matter of time before you thought so too.”

“you sound a little bitter about it, quinny.” y/n glanced over at him, only to find him already looking at her.

“i’m not bitter, per say. but maybe just once, i would liked to be picked over jack or luke.”

“hey,” y/n turned on her side to get a better look at the oldest hughes. “the day is gonna come when you meet someone who prefers you over your brothers. and she’s going to love you so much that what’s happening now won’t even matter to you. because she’s going to be the only thing you think about. she’s going to consume your every thought and soon enough, you’ll have what you’ve always wanted. someone who picks you first every time.”

“you really think so?”

“yes of course. you’re pretty special, quinn.” y/n offered him a kind smile, which he returned. “i can’t believe i’m being nice right now.”

“yeah i know. it’s weird.” quinn shook his head and chuckled. “but thank you.”

“you’re welcome.” she smiled again and instead of returning to her position on her back, she stayed facing him. “thank you as well.”

“for what?”

“being here. you know, letting me talk to you about my nightmare. even if it was stupid.” she fiddled with her fingers and quinn reached out to stop it.

“it was not stupid. i told you like 20 minutes ago that it was alright.”

“oh. did you?” she glanced down at where quinn’s hands entrapped her own. “i’m sorry for repeating myself then. sometimes the anxiety is bad.”

“hey, you never have to apologize to me. okay?”

“okay.” she looked at him and smiled. suddenly, the atmosphere was different. almost like the both of them were aware of the tension in the room.

quinn opened his mouth to say something but y/n yawned.

“i’m tired, but i don’t want this rare moment to be over.”

“get some sleep. i’m not leaving. i’ll be here when you wake up, alright?” he cautiously reached up to move a piece of her hair out of her face.

“okay. good night quinn.” she closed her eyes and mere seconds later, her breathing evened out and light snores came from her. quinn let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and fell asleep too.

the whole night, he never let go of her hands.

🏒❤️🏒❤️🏒❤️🏒

when y/n woke up the next morning and noticed the grip quinn had on her hands, she couldn’t help but smile.

sure she had feelings for jack but there was no denying how attractive quinn was, not only on the outside, but the inside as well.

y/n spent the next 5 minutes just admiring his face before he started to stir. she closed her eyes as if to pretend she hadn’t been looking at him, but quinn caught on.

part of him felt her eyes on him & he couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. when she opened her eyes again, quinn smiled.

“good morning.”

“good morning, quinn.”

“how did you sleep?”

“if i’m being honest, better last night than the entire week so far.”

“really?”

“yeah. it’s almost like there was a calming presence nearby that helped me sleep better.”

“yeah i know what you mean.” he chuckled and reluctantly let go of her hands. his own hands felt colder as he let her stretch her body out.

“do the boys have anything planned today?”

“i think the only thing we were gonna do was go to the casino later tonight.”

“oh that sounds fun.” she smiled and looked over at quinn. “and what time was that supposed to take place tonight?”

“not until after dark i believe.”

“good. because i really don’t want to get out of bed right now.”

“yeah. me either.” he closed his eyes and for the first time all week, he was happy to be this close to y/n.

the two of them enjoyed their five minutes of peace, happily enjoying the moment.

however, the moment was interrupted when jack knocked on the door. quinn hopped off the bed and answered it.

“good morning. glad to see you two haven’t killed each other yet.” he chuckled and looked behind quinn as y/n approached the door.

“might have to kill you for ruining my beauty sleep, asshole.”

“oh come on. you don’t need it anyway.” jack smiled, causing y/n to turn her head so he couldn’t notice the way her cheeks brightened.

quinn caught it though and he felt his heart drop. he had hoped their moment, however short it might’ve been, would’ve changed how she felt about jack.

but he was just a fool. she was too good for him. too good for jack too. but he would never admit it.

“anyway, you guys up for getting some breakfast?”

“i could eat.” y/n quickly turned her attention to quinn. “how about you, quinny?”

“food sounds delicious.” he painted on a smile as his younger brothers eyes never left y/n.

“perfect. get dressed and meet us down in the lobby in 30 minutes?”

“see you then.” y/n shut the door and headed over to her bag.

“so i noticed something just now.”

“and what could that be?” y/n walked into the bathroom with her clothes. she shut the door and turned on the shower.

“jack might be into you.”

the bathroom door flew open and y/n eyed quinn suspiciously. “you’re lying.”

“his attention never left you. he had him captivated from the moment you appeared behind me. it was like i wasn’t even there.”

“nonsense, quinn.” she walked over to him. “jack doesn’t like me.”

“say what you want, but i could tell.” he watched as y/n grabbed her hairbrush and returned to the bathroom.

after her shower, quinn got in and did what he had to do. when he walked out, y/n was attempting to put her necklace on.

her eyes met quinn’s through the mirror. she didn’t have to say anything to him. he walked up and clasped the necklace together behind her neck and smiled.

“thank you. i was about to lose my mind there.”

“now, don’t do that.” he chuckled and unplugged his phone. “let’s go.”

the two of them walked out to meet the boys in the lobby.

breakfast should be interesting.

🏒❤️🏒❤️🏒❤️🏒

although luke wasn’t old enough to actually gamble in the casino, they still allowed him to sit back and watch as everyone else lost money. he stuck with quinn while jack was with y/n.

quinn watched his brother and y/n exchange looks while they sat at the blackjack table. their laughs echoed in quinn’s ears and he turned his attention back to his youngest brother.

“quinn, can i ask you something?”

“sure, luke. what’s up?”

“you and y/n? has that happened yet or are you still hiding your feelings from her?”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” quinn sipped his drink and looked around.

“i’m young, not stupid.” luke rolled his eyes. “you’ve been getting increasingly worried about her all week and you can barely take your eyes off of her. you’re also holding your drink so tight that your knuckles are turning white. is everything okay?”

“yeah. just think she could do better than jack. she’s too good for him.”

“are you hoping she realizes she’s in love with you, and not jack? because i honestly don’t think she has the same feelings for jack that you think she does.”

“she told me last night how she felt about jack. i can tell when she’s lying and she was definitely telling the truth. she thinks he’s perfect.”

“but doesn’t everybody? you know it doesn’t necessarily mean she has feelings for him just because she shares the same opinion as everyone else in the world.” luke eyed his brother. “and i’m sure if you told her how you felt, you’d have a decent chance.”

“whatever, luke.” quinn waves his brother away and watched as he joined jack at the blackjack table.

y/n excused herself from the brothers and made her way to where quinn was sitting at another table.

“so, luke tells me you’ve been losing a bit of money over here.”

“don’t believe a thing he says.” quinn finished his drink and chuckled. “kid is a liar.”

“are you sure about that? because your chip pile is looking pretty low there, quinn.”

“it’s just a small hiccup in the road. i’ll figure it out.” he placed a chip on the the number 22, her favorite number, and waited.

“whatever you say. i’m gonna go try my luck at the slots or something.” y/n patted his shoulder and went to walk away but quinn stopped her.

“wait hold on.” he pointed to the table, more specifically at the roulette wheel where the ball had stopped on the 22 spot. “i want to test something. pick a number.”

“um, 19.” y/n watched as quinn placed half his chips on the number 19. “what are you doing? are you insane?”

“just trust me on this.” he held her wrist gently and together they watched the ball spin around the wheel and when it stopped, y/n’s eyes widened. the ball had landed in the 19 spot. quinn looked up at her. “want to try again?”

“let’s go with 6.” she slid some chips over and they waited. again, the ball landed where they needed it to and the chips multiplied.

“i’m starting to believe you’re a lucky charm.”

“i’m sure that’s all you, quinn.” she rested her hand on his shoulder gently. despite not believing she was a lucky charm, she stuck around quinn for the rest of the night. he kept winning with every number she picked, even if she picked the same number twice in a row. that was highly unlikely but it happened.

after roulette, they went around the place to every game and continued winning each time.

by the time jack and luke informed them they were heading to bed, quinn had nearly quadrupled what he started with. although they wanted to stay and be happy for their brother, sleep crept in on both of them. they said their good nights and went up to their room.

but the night was far from over for y/n and quinn.

🏒❤️🏒❤️🏒❤️🏒

y/n didn’t remember getting back to the room last night but when she woke up, she felt something on her finger and there was a sharp pain on her left shoulder. she looked at her hand and her eyes widened.

her gaze went down to a sleeping quinn and she looked at his finger too, just for good measure. he had a ring on his finger too.

“quinn, wake up!”

“what do you want?”

“look at your ring finger.” y/n sighed. quinn glanced at his right hand and rolled his eyes.

“there’s nothing there.”

“the other finger, idiot.”

quinn pulled his hand into his lines of sight and gasped. “do you-“

“yup. bright and shiny.”

“oh please tell me we didn’t get married last night.” he rubbed his eyes roughly, as if trying to clear the image from his mind. “how much did we drink last night?”

“i don’t remember.” y/n glanced down and noticed how little clothing she had on. “quinn, i have a question.”

“what now?”

“do you by any chance have any clothes on?”

“um,” he lifted the comforter and set it back down. “no i do not.”

“crap.” y/n quickly grabbed her clothes and threw them on. she was about to pull the shirt over her head when quinn stopped her.

“when did you get that?”

“get what?”

“the tattoo.”he pointed to her left shoulder. “it’s cute.”

“i don’t know.” she sighed again and looked at quinn. “you got one too. it’s a moon.”

“do you suppose we got so drunk last night that we got matching tattoos and then got married?”

“and then came back and...you know? yeah i think that’s exactly what happened. but who let us drink that much and why can’t we remember anything?”

“i don’t know. maybe luke and jack know more than we do.”

“highly unlikely, seeing as how they went to bed way before us.”

“good point.” quinn scratched his beard and looked at his hand. “i’m really sorry.”

“for what?”

“i feel like this is all my fault.”

“what do you mean?”

“i made you stay with me all night because my luck turned around when you joined me at the roulette table. if i hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t have tattoos and we wouldn’t be married.”

“while that may be true, think about it. would you rather be married to your brothers best friend or a complete stranger? because that could’ve happened too.”

“you. definitely you.” he chuckled and looked at her. she was already staring at him. “what?”

“you should see your back.” y/n shook her head. “what the fuck happened last night?”

🏒❤️🏒❤️🏒❤️🏒

quinn and y/n spent the rest of the afternoon avoiding the boys and trying to find out what occurred last night.

they went to the casino and decided to go to the dealer at the blackjack table, as it was the last place they remember being.

he informed them that after they were served a few drinks, quinn had the bright idea to go get some more. he apparently returned with a tray full of shots, unaware just how strong they were.

“you guys downed the shots no problem then left. sorry i couldn’t be more helpful.”

they walked away slowly and when they were outside the building, they looked down the street.

“which place do you think we got hitched?”

“i don’t know. there’s so many chapels here.” quinn sighed. he was clearly frustrated that he didn’t have the whole story. “it’s not like we can go around asking every chapel.”

“we could but that would be too time consuming.” y/n thought for a moment. “wait. i remember running into some korean elvis impersonator. we could ask about that. someone’s gotta know where he is.”

“worth a shot.” quinn shrugged and followed his wife down the street.

after hours of searching, they were about to give up hope.

“why are we trying to find out the story behind our wedding instead of getting it annulled?”

“that’s a good point.” quinn looked at her. “do you not like being married to me or something though?”

“quinn, we’re 24 years old and we got hitched. we’re not dating and it wasn’t planned. besides, when i told your mom i would marry one of her sons, i promised she could be there. she’d be crushed to know i did it without her. i also didn’t expect to marry you. always thought it would be jack.”

“we have one more day in vegas before we head our separate ways. why don’t we take the rest of tonight to let it sink in and if we feel an annulment is needed in the morning, we can do that.”

“i still can’t believe we got married.”

“don’t forget the tattoos.”

“or the consummation of our marriage.” y/n didn’t feel disgusted about hooking up with quinn. part of her felt like they were meant to end up together, no matter how much she liked jack.

y/n thought dinner that night would be a little difficult.

while they were getting ready, y/n’s ring got stuck. quinn tried to get it off but it wouldn’t budge. he had originally taken his off but when they determined y/n would have to keep hers on, he slid his back onto his finger. if the boys asked questions, they would give them answers.

luckily, neither of them noticed. well if they did, neither of them said anything about it.

back in the hotel room later that night, while y/n and quinn were getting ready for bed, there was a knock on the door. quinn got up to answer it while y/n peaked her head out of the bathroom.

“good evening, mr and mrs hughes. we have some complimentary champagne for the newlyweds.” the man in the hallway pushed a cart into the room and stared at them. “we also have this special dessert for you two and if you would like, we could upgrade you to the honeymoon suite. it’s much larger.”

“thank you, but-“ quinn started but he was quickly interrupted.

“thanks for the champagne and dessert. we will let you know about the room upgrade.” y/n ushered the man out and when she was sure he was gone, she let out a sigh of relief. “okay how many people knew we got married?”

“i have no idea. but why didn’t you tell him we aren’t married?”

“free dessert, duh. oh and champagne.” she picked up the bottle and grabbed two glasses before making her way to the bed. “do you want some?”

“yeah sure.”

the two of them sat cross-legged on the bed, facing each other as y/n poured them each a glass. she handed one to quinn and smiled.

“to....i don’t know what to toast about.”

“let’s toast to us.” quinn suggested. “after all, our marriage is the reason we got this in the first place.”

“okay great idea. to us.” y/n clinked her glass with quinn’s and downed the first glass quickly. “that was delicious.”

“i agree.” quinn poured the next two glasses and about 4 more after that. “being married is fun. why didn’t i think of this sooner?”

“maybe because we’re idiots and it’s not actually real.”

“but it could be, right?”

“you’re drunk. i think it’s time for bed, quinny.” y/n grabbed his empty glass and set them both on the nightstand before getting off the bed. quinn reaches out to grab her hand before she got too far.

“can we share the bed tonight?”

“i guess.” y/n looked at him and climbed under the covers with quinn.

“maybe one day, i’ll find someone like you. someone who’s too good for the world and way out of my league. hopefully she’ll love me because i feel like i deserve it, you know. maybe someday, i can find someone who loves me the way you love jack.”

“i do not love jack. it’s just a small thing. a crush at best.” y/n looked at quinn and sighed heavily. “but i understand what you mean. hopefully i’ll also find someone who loves me the way i deserve.”

“oh you for sure will.” quinn moves hair out of y/n’s face and let his fingers gently graze her cheek before bringing his hand back to rest under his head. “jack is an idiot, you know.”

“i’m sure you’re right, but why?”

“he just is.”

“come on, quinny. humor me.”

“jacks an idiot because he could’ve had you this entire time but instead, he fumbled his chance. and for what? a snooty blonde who’s only nice when she wants something? a bitch who thinks she’s better than everyone? a girl who thinks she’s the most beautiful person on the earth? no. he should’ve opened his eyes so he could see that the most beautiful human being was always right in front of him. and not just on the outside, but the inside too. you’re the only girl in jack’s life that cares not just about him, but his family and friends too. you put everyone else’s happiness before your own and every day that i know you, it just makes me love you. so much.”

“quinn, i don’t-“

“i know i’m a little drunk but i really wish this marriage was real.”

and before y/n could respond to the confession, quinn was fast asleep.

🏒❤️🏒❤️🏒❤️🏒

y/n couldn’t sleep. she tried and was almost there but somewhere around 1:30, quinn wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest, whispering that he’d protect her, into her ear.

6:30 rolled around and she slowly got out of bed. she went into the bathroom to get a glass of water and some advil for quinn before doing the same for herself.

she took a seat in the chair and looked at quinn as he slept.

was his confession last night only because he was drunk? or did he mean it?

when quinn started to stir, he opened his eyes and noticed the water. he let out a chuckle and smiled.

“she really is perfect.” he sat up and that’s when he noticed y/n in the chair. “oh. i didn't see you there. good morning.”

“good morning, quinn. how are you feeling?”

“i’m actually feeling great. um, how are you?” he took the advil and sipped his water.

"i'm good." she fiddled with her fingers in her lap. quinn noticed she was nervous about something so he got up and knelt down to her level.

"hey, what's wrong? you know you can talk to me."

"do you remember anything from last night?"

"i remember a lot of champagne. that's about it. why?"

"you kind of told me you loved me and that you wished the marriage was real. and right before i could say anything, you fell asleep."

"oh. so that wasn't a dream then?" he chuckled awkwardly.

"nope." she shook her head and avoided eye contact with quinn.

"well, in my defense, i was drunk. sometimes i just say things."

"yeah, right." y/n smiled and finally made eye contact with him. "glad we could get that cleared up."

"yeah me too." quinn smiled. "so i take it you want to go get this marriage thing erased, right?"

"yeah. totally." y/n didn't want the marriage to end and as she looked at quinn, she was more sure than ever that jack was the wrong brother. it's always been quinn.

"let's go then."

y/n and quinn went to walk out the door and they bumped into jack & luke on the way out.

"hey. you guys want to go get breakfast?" luke asked.

"sure. but then after that, we have to go our marriage annulled."

"marriage? when did that happen?"

"i knew you two would get together." luke smiled as he and jack followed their brother.

"it was a mistake. we were drunk and obviously it was stupid." y/n turned to look at the boys, as if trying to gauge a reaction from jack. he avoided her gaze as he walked. quinn did the same thing. "right quinn?"

"yeah, right." he nodded and continued to walk. y/n stayed back with luke and sighed.

"i'm an idiot, luke."

"i'm sure you're right, but why?"

"two days ago, i was so sure i liked jack. but ever since finding out i married quinn, it feels right. but i'm an idiot because he doesn't want to be married. that's why we're getting it erased.

"but i finally had a sister." luke pouted. "look, you and jack could've worked if he wasn't a bigger idiot than you are"

"hey!"

"sorry. but it's true. and then there's you & quinn."

"there is no me and quinn."

"yes there is. and this brings me back to the point of you being an idiot. how can neither of you see that you have feelings for each other and that neither of you want the marriage to end?"

"because we were drunk, luke. it was a-"

"you keep saying it was a mistake but it's not. you two were made for each other. why do you think i rigged the room sharing situation? i knew that if you guys had some moments alone, you could get something from the whole thing. and look at that. you got married. now if you had ended up sharing a room with me, you wouldn't be on your way to an annulment. what a story you have here."

"hold on. did you jsut say you rigged the room thing?"

"not important. what is important now is that you tell quinn how you feel."

"come on you guys. i'm starving." jack called from the other end of the hallway. y/n rolled her eyes and the 4 of them walked into the restaurant.

all throughout breakfast, y/n avoided the looks she was receiving from luke and quinn. instead she focused on the conversation with jack. she told him the details surrounding how she got married to quinn, what little information she had.

when the last bite was swallowed and the plates were taken away, y/n and quinn stood up.

"alright. this shouldn't take long. we'll meet you guys back here in about an hour. sound good?"

"yeah. hope it goes smoothly." jack and luke waved goodbye and the 4 of them went their separate ways.

🏒❤🏒❤🏒❤🏒

while y/n and quinn waited for their names to be called into the office, quinn looked around the room and y/n played with the string of her hoodie.

"what are you thinking about?" quinn asked when he noticed she was fidgeting.

"just life and all the decisions i've made to get me where i am today."

"lots of mistakes?"

"yeah. for sure." y/n sighed. "wanna know my biggest mistake?"

"was it this marriage?"

"what? no, of course not." y/n looked at him. "why? do you think it was a mistake?"

"getting off topic. what was your biggest mistake?"

"danny marcel."

"oh no. i forgot about him. he was terrible. always wanted to punch his face in whenever he was around. he always said the rudest things to you. how did you deal with it for so long?"

"you don't want to know." she shook her head, causing quinn to chuckle. "why did you want to punch him in the face?"

"he wasn't a nice person and maybe because i cared about you."

"you did?"

"of course i did. i mean, i still care about you. and i know i'm not the best at showing it but-"

"y/n & quinn?" the receptionist moved from behind the desk and guided them into another room. a kind looking older man sat at the desk. he offered them a smile when they entered.

"it's nice to meet you both & i hope i can get you what you came here for."

"we would appreciate that, sir. thank you."

"great. now before we go through with this, i want to make sure that this is something you'll both want. and seeing as how mr hughes has all the assets, i gotta know that you guys have already discussed that."

"we haven't yet, sir. but i don't want anything." y/n looked at quinn.

"excellent." he looked down at the papers in front of him and smiled. "so are you both sure this is what you want?"

"yes sir." they said at the same time wile sharing a look. the man slid a pen and the papers across his desk.

"great. now i'm just gonna need you to both sign this line here." he tapped the page with the pen and handed it to y/n. just as she was about to sign it, quinn put his hand over hers.

"wait." he removed his hand before looking at y/n. "i'm not sure i want this to be over."

"but i thought-"

"i thought so too. but after the champagne last night, and my stupid confession, i thought more about it."

"okay and?"

"and i've come to the conclusion that marrying you, whether i was drunk or sober, was the best decision i have ever made. you are the most perfect person i know and maybe i'm too late to admit this and maybe you want to get this annulled. and if that's what you really truly want, i will sign those papers to make you happy. but i couldn't let you sign without telling you how i felt." quinn sighed.

"so, mrs hughes. what do you want to do?" the man at the desk looked at her as she contemplated for a moment. she looked at quinn and smiled.

"i don't want to sign the papers." she turned to the man. "we are so sorry for wasting your time."

"not a problem. i'm just glad you two figured this out before you followed through with it. good luck on a long & happy marriage."

"thank you." quinn walked out of the office first. y/n followed slowly behind him but stopped.

"quinn, can i ask you something?"

"of course." he stopped and turned to face her.

"never mind. let's talk when we get back to our room." y/n kept walking and eventually made it back to the room. quinn waited patiently for y/n to say something. when she didn't say anything, he sat on the bed and watched her pace back and forth.

"y/n, whats up? what did you want to say to me earlier?" he sighed. "please say something. the silence is worrying me."

"last night when you told me you loved me, did you actually mean it?" she stopped abruptly and turned to face him. under his gaze, she suddenly felt nervous.

and of course, quinn being who he was, picked up on the sudden shift in behavior and was quick to walk to her. he held her hands with one of his own while the other reached under her chin. he tilted her head so she was looking right at him.

"yes i meant it. every last word that came out of my mouth last night was nothing but honesty. i may have been drunk but for the last 2 years, thinking of you became like a second nature. never have i second guessed how i felt about you. and i can assure you that it's never going to change. so if you don't feel the same way, that's okay. i just need to know."

y/n blinked quickly before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. he stumbled back a little bit as their lips collided but he easily steadied them.

quinn's hands went from her chin to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer as the kiss grew more intense with each passing second.

"so, i take it you love me too?"

"of course, you idiot." y/n smiled and caressed his cheek. "you are so perfect in my eyes and i wish i would've noticed it sooner. but no. instead, i was so focused on jack. that was a stupid decision on my part."

"yes it was." quinn chuckled and held y/n closer. "you are so beautiful and you could have anyone you wanted. why do you love me?"

"are you seriously asking me that now?" y/n smiled. "you are the sweetest person i know. you have so much talent and you never give yourself the credit you deserve. you're funny, smart and so incredibly sexy, it blows my mind. you're perfect in every way to me and i couldn't picture myself loving anybody else."

"you think i'm sexy, huh?" quinn raised his eyebrow and smirked. y/n slapped his chest playfully and smiled.

"no. i think you're like, really ugly." y/n rolled her eyes. "you're lucky i love you."

"i love you too. and since we're married, you're stuck with me for life."

"i suppose so." y/n smiled and reached for her phone. "i gotta call your mom."

"why?"

"she needs to know we got married. and maybe she'll help us throw a party to celebrate. we can invite your family and have it be like a real wedding reception."

"you're right. if anyone deserves to know, it's definitely mom."

"so then it's settled?"

"i guess it is." quinn chuckled. "we can tell her when we get home tomorrow."

"sounds like a plan." y/n set her phone down and looked at quinn. "how has nobody seen the perfection in you before? don't get me wrong. i'm glad they didn't because we wouldn't be here if they had. but, how?"

"i don't know. but i was wondering the same thing about you just now. i mean, you dated some losers but i thought at least one of them would've realized how amazing you are."

"they were all blind and stupid, quinn. even your ex-girlfriends. of course they couldn't see how perfect we are."

"you got that right." quinn placed a gently kiss to the tip of her nose and smiled. "so, how does it feel to be mrs hughes?"

"it feels amazing. always dreamed of marrying into the family one day. just always pictured it being jack."

"i know. but aren't you glad you got the better hughes brother?"

"but i didn't marry luke." y/n replied, causing quinn to gasp. she smirked and began to giggle as quinn kissed all over her face. "quinn, you're crazy."

"crazy for you."

"and cheesy. can't forget cheesy." she playfully rolled her eyes as the two of them collapsed on the bed. "you are the better brother. and for so many reasons. i love you, quinn."

"i love you too, y/n." he kissed her and it felt like time had stopped. for them, it felt as if they were the only 2 left in the world. but neither of them could complain.

they were in love and so thankful they were finally able to admit it.

[hoseokhasmyheartxx]

Hush | JHS

*Pairing: idol!Hoseok x f!Reader

*Word Count: 4.8k

*Genre: coworkers-to-fwb, idol au, some fluff, explicit smut, really this is just pwp, tiny bit of plot if you squint though

*Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT, MINORS DNI. alcohol consumption, clubbing, piv sex, protected sex (be smart, ya perverts), oral (f receiving), nipple play, reader has nipple piercings, slight dom/brat tamer!hoseok, ass slapping, use of the pet name 'baby,' power imbalance, reader is basically hoseok's secretary/assistant...

*Summary: Working as a receptionist at the biggest music company in the world had its perks. You got to meet so many influential people, dabble your toes in the music world, and call yourself the personal assistant to one Jung Hoseok. You always get whatever he needs with no complaints. But, one night, the line between work and play blurs, and there's no coming back from that, you fear.

*A/N: yikes, okay, here we go. this is a reimagined/reworked fic. if you read my now-deleted old fic called 'safety zone,' this may sound a bit familiar. but it's mostly new stuff with some of the old reused. hoseok has been on my mind 25/8 lately and i could not stop thinking about what this scenario would look like. so, here ya go! let me know what you think, and as always, love you all!

Main Masterlist

It’s late one weekend night, and you and your friends are out at a club, drinking away the stress of the week. Music blares, liquor flows, and everything becomes a blur. Looking through the crowd, you spot him: Jung Hoseok. You see him every day, but have never really spoken to him, aside from the pleasantries that coworkers normally exchange. You’re not really coworkers though. Technically, in every sense of the word, you work for him. Receptionists at the company are more like secretaries for the idols. Taking their calls, scheduling their meetings, anything they need. That’s what you are to Jung Hoseok. His assistant. So when he makes his way through the crowded club over to you, you’re stunned.

“Come with me,” he says as he grabs your hand, leading you back the way he’d come. You glance back at your friends, panicked, but all they do is giggle and encourage you. You take a breath, not knowing what to expect. Your mind jumps to conclusions, expecting to be berated or asked for something, but that’s not what happens.

Hoseok pulls you over to his table, where the rest of his group are already drinking. He slides into the booth, pulling you down next to him. He pours you a drink, gently clinks his glass to yours, and downs his in one gulp. You follow his lead, smiling as the table erupts in cheers.

“Hey! Good to see you outside of work finally,” Jimin speaks up, and you smile at him, nodding in agreement.

“I realized you’ve been working with us for years and I still don’t know anything about you. So, spill,” Hoseok prods, and before you know it, all of you are talking like old friends, sharing stories and laughing.  

The alcohol starts to affect you, causing you to laugh more than you normally would, and your energy is palpable as you bounce in your seat, moving to the beat of the music. Your hand accidentally grazes Hoseok’s thigh, making you stop in your tracks. Looking at him, you start to apologize quietly, unsure how he would react to you touching him. 

“Sorry! I’m gonna go dance. Anyone want to join me?” you ask as you stand, finishing the last sips of your second drink. You look around, and when no one responds, you turn to walk away. “I’ll be back!” you say with a smile and a wave in their direction, heading for the crowded dance floor. 

Hoseok watches, silently, as you stand and walk away. Taking another sip of his drink, he looks around at his friends. They all stare at him, mischievous smiles on their faces. He stops, glass resting in his hand.

“What?” he asks, tilting his head to the side slightly. A loud laugh erupts from next to him.

“Man, you are so fucking obvious. Go dance with her before you miss your shot,” Jimin says between laughs, pointing at you as you walk away.

It’s like a switch flips inside Hoseok’s head. He downs the remainder of his drink, stands, and turns back to the table. “I’ll be back,” he says as he turns back around to follow you.

You barely reach the outer edge of the dance floor when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn, seeing Hoseok standing behind you. “Hi,” you say to him sweetly, smiling up at him.

“Hi. Um, I decided to join you. If that’s okay,” he responds with a small smile. You nod, reaching your hand out to him as you continue on your way. He takes your hand, following you.

The two of you slowly weave your way into the crowd, looking for a good spot. A small opening appears in front of you, leaving the perfect amount of space for two. Alcohol buzzing through you, you begin to dance, feeling the vibrations from the speakers in your chest. Hoseok stares at you, unsure at first how to cut in.

Suddenly, you feel two hands on your hips, his form pressed up against your back. It’s like he becomes a completely new person when the two of you begin dancing together. You know dancing is his thing, but you didn’t realize how much more confident he would become doing it. You feel his hands guiding you, syncing your hips together to the beat. Just then, your favorite song comes on, and he takes the opportunity to spin you by the waist, leaving you facing him. His hands don’t leave your waist. You stop, shaken by the sudden turn of events. Not missing a beat, he begins to guide your waist again, laughing as he looks down at you. 

“You good?” he asks, still laughing. You nod, laughing along with him. With that, he takes your wrists in his hands and places them around his neck, immediately bringing his hands back to your waist. 

Hoseok is totally in his element as the two of you get lost in dancing. His movements are so fluid, so precise, that you almost can’t keep up. You definitely wouldn’t have been able to if he hadn’t had a constant hold on you by the waist.

You glance up at him, only to find his eyes already on you. Suddenly, he’s leaning down, your faces inches apart. His dancing slows, his face tipped sideways a bit, and his lips are on yours. Electricity courses through you. You don’t really know what’s happening, but you welcome it, reciprocating the kiss hesitantly. Hoseok presses his mouth harder onto yours, deepening the kiss. You feel his hands move to your face as his tongue slowly darts out, licking along the seam of your lips. You open your mouth, allowing him entrance, and a small sigh leaves your lips. He pulls back slowly.

“You’re fucking breathtaking,” Hoseok says breathily, mouth slightly open, face still inches from yours. His hands move down to your neck, thumbs resting directly on your pulse points. With that gesture, your breath catches, your entire body heating up under his touch.

You stare at him, completely unable to speak. What the fuck.

“Your heart is racing,” he says, sliding his thumb along your neck, voice dripping with confidence. You look up at him, sultry twinkle in your eyes. 

Any ounce of hesitation you had left in your mind disappears. He’s so fucking hot. All thoughts, except one, clear from your not-so-innocently-thinking brain. You don’t know where this is going, or if it’s going anywhere at all, but one thing you’re certain of: whatever he wants, you’ll give him. 

Your heart pounds so hard you can feel it in your chest. Hoseok looks down at you, eyes wide, fixed on yours. You can’t speak, can’t move. You can barely even think. You open your mouth to finally say something, but words fail you. You close your mouth again. You don’t want him to think you don’t want to kiss him too, but you have no idea what to say in that moment.

“I- I’m sorry,” he says suddenly. He looks defeated; maybe even a little upset. His hands fall from your neck, unsure where to put them now that the two of you aren’t connected. You shake your head quickly, wanting him to know it’s okay, that you want to kiss him too. You reach for his hands, taking them in yours, lacing your fingers together. With that, you tilt your head upward again, leaning into him. Hoseok’s breath catches in his chest as he looks into your eyes, seeing something completely different there than he thought he’d seen just a minute ago. His lips touch yours again, hesitant at first, until you drop his hands and bring yours up to rest around his neck, returning the kiss with more urgency. His hands land on your hips, his grip strong on your skin. A minute passes before he releases you from his hold, resting his forehead on yours, a small smile on his lips. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” you finally reply, smiling back at him. You let out short, quick breaths. With your arms still around him, you allow yourself to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling his hot breath on your face.

“I can walk you home, if you want to leave…” Hoseok breathes out, eyes never leaving you.

“Okay…” you respond, unable to take your eyes off him. His big, brown eyes are mesmerizing. It’s hard to think of anything except what’s right in front of you. Hoseok’s face is lit up by the strobe lights of the club around you, showing his adorable dimples as he smiles a small grin at you.

You watch as Hoseok pulls his phone out of his pants pocket, sends what you presume to be a quick text, then puts it away. Reaching for your hand, he begins leading the way through the crowd, heading toward the exit. Fighting your way through the hordes of people, you finally reach a door, which turns out to be an exit that leads to a back alley behind the building. 

“Lead the way,” he says to you with a low chuckle, still holding your hand. You start walking in the direction of your apartment, mind racing. The walk is quick, the alcohol buzzing inside you combined with the adrenaline from just being in Hoseok’s presence making you move faster. Within minutes, you’re back at your building, heading toward the lobby entrance.

“Uh, hang on. Is there a… quieter entrance?” Hoseok asks, looking around hesitantly. You understand why he asks: the lobby looks a little full from where you stand. So, you lead him to the back entrance, which is dead, as always. The two of you walk over to the door, Hoseok pulling it open for you politely. Your heart beats faster in your chest.

You walk through the door with Hoseok right behind you. You look around, trying to pinpoint where you are. Once you get your bearings, you lead the way to the elevator, pushing the button quickly, hoping the hallway stays as empty as it is now until you have the chance to get on. Everything works in your favor as the elevator arrives and you walk in together, pushing the button for the fifth floor. Hoseok stands close to you, still holding your hand, but now tracing random shapes onto your thumb with his. You notice him staring at you and you giggle.

“What?” you ask shyly.

“You’re just.. really fucking gorgeous,” he says, looking away after he says it, one side of his mouth turned up in a shy smile, dimple set deep in his cheek. The elevator door opens as you reach your floor, and you lead the way to your apartment slowly. You unlock the door, and the two of you go inside, closing the door quickly behind you. Before you can even think, Hoseok grabs your waist, turns you, and backs you up against the door, his lips landing on yours hungrily. You reciprocate the kiss, slightly hesitant, but the way he makes you feel then makes you forget your hesitation before you can really think. He runs his hands up your sides to rest them on your neck, the same way he had at the club, thumbs touching your pulse points. He kisses you with such intensity that you almost forget to breathe. He is intoxicating. You move your hands without thinking, placing them on his chest, gripping his shirt lightly in your fists. You hear Hoseok’s breath catch in his throat as he kisses you deeper. Your tongues move together, leaving you unsure where one of you ends and the other begins. His hands move slowly down your neck, tracing your collarbones as his fingers slip under the straps of your dress, gently moving them off your shoulders. His hands go to your chest then, squeezing one breast gently, still kissing you. You break away from the kiss, breathing heavily, looking at him, eyes wide in what you can only describe as shocked lust. He stops, waiting for you to say something.

“What are we doing?” you ask, hands still on his chest. He shakes his head lightly with a small smirk.

“Don’t think. Just kiss me,” he breathes out, watching for your response. You take a deep breath and nod at him. That’s all the confirmation he needs, and he immediately captures you in a kiss that’s even more intense than the one before it. His hands wander, one back on your breast, the other at your waist again. He digs his fingertips into your waist, pulling you closer to him. The fingers of his other hand brush over your nipple lightly, and he stops suddenly, pulling away from the kiss to look down at you.

“Do… Do you have piercings?” he asks incredulously, finger brushing over your nipple again. You giggle and nod, watching his face switch from curious to… something else, something darker. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out, “not so innocent, are you?” With that, he grabs your hand, pulling you farther into your apartment, leading you to the bedroom. He pulls you ahead of him slightly and turns you to face him, backing you up until the backs of your knees are against the edge of your bed. He pushes you down to sit on the bed, towering over you as he lowers you until you are lying down, his torso held up over yours by his forearms, his lower half next to yours. He kisses you again, this time sweeter, gentler.

“Tell me you want this, need this, as bad as I always have,” Hoseok whispers against your cheek in the dark, softer than his last words to you. You can tell by his tone of voice that he’s serious, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable. The consideration in his voice, in his entire demeanor, only makes you want him more. 

“I do, but…” you begin, looking into his eyes, trying to read his facial expressions. The dim light of your room casts shadows over his face, highlighting only a little of his face. You can feel his eyes on you, his gaze never leaving yours. He smiles down at you and uses one hand to brush the hair away from your face, thumb stroking your cheek gently. Suddenly, he moves away from you, fumbling in the dark until he finds the lamp next to you. He flicks it on, leaving the room slightly more lit. He rejoins you on the bed, pulling you up to rest on the pillows next to him. He’s even more gorgeous in this light, his confidence shocking you like lightning. Shit. 

“Nuh uh,” he orders, “I know you want me too. I always see you staring. Isn’t it about time we did something about that?” He smirks, and your heart skips.

You nod, feeling more confident by the second.

“I wanna see your face when you come for me,” he whispers, face inches from yours again. He pulls you in for another kiss, urgent, but more… at ease, this time. His hands roam, one in your hair, the other running down your body to rest at your hip. You feel his thumb running along your hip, seemingly tracing the lines of your panties underneath the tiny dress you have on. You raise one knee, pulling him over top of you, your hand in his hair again, tangling in it, pulling gently. The small gesture forces a ragged breath out of Hoseok's lungs. His kisses become more hungry, and he grabs your raised knee, pulling it gently to open your legs, slotting himself in the space between them. Your dress rides up, leaving your thighs bare under him. Hoseok runs his hand up your bare thigh, sliding it up to trace along the strings of your panties. “Is this okay?” he asks, waiting a bit, “I need you to tell me. Need you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling your body heat up under his touch. You nod against his mouth, pulling away slightly so you can get your words out. “Hoseok… I love that you’re being cautious with me, but.. don’t,” you say, eyeing him with a smirk on your lips. You kiss him again, tugging his hair again to drive your point home.

It’s like another switch inside him flips at your words. He pulls you up to a sitting position, pulling your dress up over your head, throwing it to the floor, leaving you in only your cutest lacy green thong. His eyes darken as he looks you over, lust taking over any semblance of control he once had. He kisses you again, then begins tracing a line of open-mouthed kisses across your jawline, nipping gently at your earlobe as he moves his advances to your neck. You whine under his mouth as he finds the spot that always turns you into putty underneath someone. You can feel him chuckle against your neck, his hot breath spreading across your neck as he mouths the spot again, tongue darting out against your skin. You shiver, hand in his hair yet again. Your other hand drops to his waist, pulling at his shirt to untuck it from his pants, reaching down to trace your nails along his waistband. 

Hoseok shudders under your touch, and you can feel that he’s already hard, his length pressing against your core teasingly. He rolls his hips into you, eliciting a breathy moan from your lips. “I wanna hear you, baby,” he whispers in your ear as he repeats the action, smirking as you moan again, louder this time. You reach up to his chest and begin unbuttoning his shirt, kissing him as you get to the bottom of the shirt, grazing your fingertips over his bare chest and stomach. His honey skin catches you off guard, your eyes flicking over his body. His chest is perfectly sculpted, stomach toned, with v-lines disappearing under the waist of his pants. You help him slide the shirt completely off his shoulders, running your hands down his biceps as you do. He rests his body weight on one forearm and uses the other hand to teasingly rub circles over your panties, watching you as he smirks. You let out a whine against his lips as you reach down to begin working on undoing his belt and pants. Not wanting to wait any longer, Hoseok stands to remove his pants and boxer briefs, and you can’t help but stare at his perfect form, illuminated in the dim light of your bedroom.

“Come here,” you breathe out, reaching for him, still staring at him. You can’t take your eyes off him. He’s just so… perfect. His collar bones stand out slightly, his biceps are small but well-defined, his thighs muscular. Everything about him is mesmerizing. He comes back to bed, and you pounce, like a cat after its prey. You immediately climb on top of him, straddling his lap, moving in for another kiss. His hands land on your waist, your arms around his neck, kisses becoming more heated as you slowly roll your hips, grinding against him. Hoseok pushes you up a bit to help you get rid of your underwear, leaving the two of you completely naked. His hands go to your ass, squeezing it. You can’t keep your hands off each other, both of you so caught up in each other that your brain turns to mush. All you can think about is him, and you, in this moment, together. Fuck the consequences.

You kiss along his sharp, angular jawline, then down to his neck, giggling as you listen to his breathing catch in his throat. His hands grip your hips, stronger than before. You sigh, wanting nothing more than to give him exactly what he needs.

Hoseok shifts underneath you, cock pressing against your center as he does. A moan slips from his lips, eyes darkening again. His hand drops to your bare breast, finger rubbing over your nipple, playing with the sparkly end of the barbell that pierces it. He bites his lip, entranced by the fact that you could have something so dirty, hidden from everyone, except him. The innocent image you always give off to everyone is no longer there in his eyes, and he can’t wait to see just how innocent you really aren’t.

His fingers find your clit, rubbing teasing circles as he watches for your reactions. Your eyes close softly, small whines already tumbling from your lips. He chuckles, a smirk plastered across his own lips.

“Awh, baby… look at you. So desperate for me.”

You roll your eyes, holding back more moans.

Without warning, he smacks the side of your ass cheek, staring up at you with stern eyes. He prods the inside of his cheek with his tongue, following the motion with a click of his tongue.

“Hmm. Bratty too, are we?”

You giggle, watching his face, testing him.

Hoseok grips your hips again, moving you forward until your pussy is directly in front of his face. You brace yourself on your headboard, startled. His breath on you is warm, teasing.

“Fuck. Never imagined I’d get to have you like this,” he whispers, before he has his tongue on you. He presses your body against his mouth, licking straight over your clit with long, slow drags. You cry out, gripping your headboard to steady yourself. His fingers dig into the dips of your waist, continuing his efforts. His tongue swirls over every part of you, lewd sounds coming from his mouth as he devours you. Your head spins, knowing nothing else except for the feel of his mouth on your clit. You can’t help but shift your hips closer, needing more.

“Hoseok,” you cry, “more, please..”

You can barely get the words out. He knows exactly what to do with you, like you’ve been through this before. It scares you how well he already knows your body. He spreads your lips, his own lips working to suck and gently nibble at your folds.

“So fucking wet for me, fuck,” he breathes out, slipping two fingers inside you. You can’t even think straight, drunk on just the thought of him under you. You moan louder, canting your hips in ecstasy. His name falls from your lips as you feel yourself getting close.

“Nope, not yet, baby,” he chuckles out, stopping suddenly. He pushes you back and away from him, resting you back onto his lap. Your breaths come out in short bursts, pouting at him.

“Not.. not fair,” you whine, grinding your hips over him. He digs his fingers into you, hissing at the feel of your wetness on his bare cock.

“Do you have—” Hoseok breathes out, and you nod. You get up from his lap and walk over to your dresser, pulling a condom from the top drawer.

“Sorry. Uh… this,” he continues, gesturing with his hands at the space between you, “wasn’t exactly in the plan,” he finishes with a small chuckle.

You shake your head, laughing along with him. His lack of preparedness is actually endearing, in a way. It’s cute. You toss him the condom, letting him tear the wrapper and slide it down over his length. Straddling his lap again, you gasp as his fingers meet your folds again, sliding through them easily. You hadn’t realized just how drenched you were until this moment. He moves his fingers quickly, yet smoothly, deftly hitting all of your sweet spots again, building you right back up. Within minutes, you’re calling out his name again, so close to coming undone that you don’t know how much more you can take before you break.

“Hoseok, please. I want you– want you to fuck me. Now,” you moan out, breaths coming out in short, small gasps. He kisses you again, pupils blown with lust, hunger, need. You reach down to grab his cock, holding the base to position him at your entrance. With that, he grips your hips tightly and pulls you down onto him. Your moan comes out loudly. He bottoms out inside you, your torsos flush against each other, as you grind your body down on him, throwing your head back in desire.

His grip on your hips gets tighter as he raises you suddenly, flipping you onto your back, somehow managing to keep the two of you connected. From there, he takes control again, grabbing your wrists to hold them above your head and pin them against your mattress. He rocks into you, his hips rolling rhythmically, his pelvis rubbing against your clit each time he plunges into you. 

“Fuck... You feel so fucking good,” Hoseok breathes out, his voice barely a whisper. His thrusts become more erratic, making you believe he’s close to finishing himself. 

You’re a mess, completely untethered underneath him. He brings your hands together to hold both of them above your head with one of his, then moves the other hand back to your pussy, expertly sliding his fingers over your clit, pulling little whines out of you as he continues. 

“H- Hoseok… please,” you whimper, and he looks down at you, pupils blown out, before leaning down to suck small, purple bruises into the skin of your collar bone.

Without warning, you come, moaning out his name, your entire body shaking underneath him. A few deep thrusts later, Hoseok joins you, spurting into the condom, breathing heavily against your chest as his forehead falls to your shoulder.

He raises his head after a moment, leaning up to rest his forehead against yours, your breathing syncing up. Hoseok kisses you, sweetly this time, before pulling out of you slowly. He stands, walking to the bathroom and disposing of the condom. You can’t help but stare at his figure in the dim lighting, willing yourself to commit this night to memory.

“You should get cleaned up,” he directs, a small smirk on his lips. You nod, standing and going into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. 

A few minutes later, you exit the bathroom, wrapped in a clean towel. Hoseok is already dressed, only missing his shoes, his hair disheveled, looking so adorably sexy that you can’t help but giggle at him as you join him in the center of the room.

“I- uh, I should go,” he lets out with a sigh. Reaching for you, he pulls you into a hug, holding the back of your head in his hand, stroking your hair gently. He presses a kiss to your temple, his other hand wrapped around your waist. You wrap your arms around his waist too, holding onto him, feeling strangely comforted by his presence. 

“I know,” you reply as you smile up at him. With that, he gives you a gentle kiss, moving his hand to cup your cheek as he did. The kiss is sweet, soft. He pulls away after a few seconds, brushing his thumb along your cheek. His hands drop from your body as he turns to put his shoes back on to leave.

“Don’t be a stranger, baby. You have my number,” he tells you, flashing that smirk again. Your face flushes, but you nod anyway.

“Mmm, I don’t know. We work—” you start.

“Don’t care,” he cuts you off. “I’ll never forget how you sound,” Hoseok says, voice low, confident.

“Gonna need to hear it again soon,” he adds as he kisses you again, slowly, gripping your chin roughly with his thumb and forefinger. “Need to see what else I can get out of you.”

You break the kiss, shoving him away playfully. “You’re insane.”

He leans in for another kiss, squeezing your ass as he does.

“Get back safe,” you call after him as he pulls the door to your apartment open. Looking back at you over his shoulder, he presses his hand to his lips, kisses it, and reaches out to you, waving a small goodbye. His heart-shaped lips turn up into a small smile. With that, the door closes behind him, and he’s gone.

You’re left standing in the middle of the room, alone, thoughts racing through your mind. You have no idea what the fuck just happened. You slept with Jung Hoseok. The man who, arguably, is your boss. If anyone were to find out…

You shake your head, not wanting to go there. No one will ever find out. You don’t know Hoseok that well, but you know enough. He’d never tell anyone.

As you’re getting ready for bed, your phone buzzes with an incoming text.

Hoseok: Hey, baby. Same time next week?

You gape, goosebumps covering the skin of your arms. Clearly his intentions aren’t what you’d thought they were. You assumed this would be a one-time thing, but…

You: absolutely. 

Hoseok: Better not tell anyone. You can keep a secret, right?

You: cross my heart.

Hoseok: See you Monday then.

Hoseok: Shh. 😉

[princessbrunette]

ᡣ𐭩 ｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅PRINCESSBRUNETTES SCREAM SALON INTRODUCES … ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵ ࿁ ˂̵ ꒱ྀིა

PLAYING DANGEROUS ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

♩ lana del rey — playing dangerous ♩

pairing: detective!johnb x reader.

cw: mentions of a murder, reader is a murderer, mentions of the law, slight age gap, abuse of power, sexual content.

you are responsible for your own media consumption. welcome to kinktober day two.

nothing ever happens in this town.

nothing worth talking about anyway. only god knows why john b was stationed out here. what kind of detective work was there to do out in the sticks you might ask? jack all, that’s what. nothing but the occasional stolen tractor, and one time — oh, one time, somebody vandalised the town statue outside the city hall, leaving john b to figure out who did it. now that one was real exciting, he knows he’s not meant to — but he secretly loved the smart criminals. made his job just that bit more exciting. the vandal took out the security cameras facing the monument, and also had questionable motive for the graffiti. took john b the whole of two days to figure out who did it, and they didn’t even get an arrest. just a hefty fine. the criminals round here were boring as ever.

until you.

a murder, in his small town. it rocked everyone, as you can imagine. everyone knew everyone round here, which made things all that more interesting. a young man’s house had been burnt down, with him inside of it. john b had to commend you, you’d sent him out with a bang, not even bothering with a boring method of murder, more paperwork sure but god was it worth it. a real case, hell — he cracks this one and they might even move him up to the city. get him on some real jobs.

now not only were you apparently this young man’s scorned ex lover, the kid apparently being some kind of serial cheater — but john b had asked around, and apparently you hadn’t been careful enough to cover your tracks when purchasing large amounts of gasoline. to him, it was pretty obvious who’d done it— but there was procedures he had to take. things aren’t always as they seem, and john b couldn’t afford to jump the gun and ruin his chances at a promotion.

knock, knock, knock.

it’s late, he’s aware. 9PM isn’t the most appropriate time to show up at a perps door, but hell — with this case came a buttfuck load of paperwork that he hadn’t been doing before and it had taken up all his time. now it was time for some real action, his stomach stirs in excitement. shit, his cock almost hardens.

he starts observing you before you’ve even greet him. the sound of socked feet on wood. do you sound hesitant? frightened? confident and unknowing? is there an air of acceptance to your walk, knowing you commit the heinous crime? he pretends not to notice the jostling of curtains in the window at the front of the house as you undoubtedly take a peak. he figured that was fair, as it was so late — rocking comfortably back and forth on his feet with his hands behind his back.

you take another minute to answer, so he frowns, letting out a little whistle and going to knock again. “uh, are you—”

you swing open the door, big stepford smile on your face. here we go.

“officer?”

“detective.” the brunette flashes his badge, tight and polite smile as he peers into your hallway. “i’m sorry to drop by so late ma’am is this… this a good time?” he’s awkward, young in nature and not so much in stature, the lines in his forehead and around his eyes already telling you he’s a bit older. as you observe him right back, he clears his throat and fixes his tie.

“of course, detective.” you correct with a smile, a knowing one — like you were sharing a joke between friends. he’s unsettled by your energy.

“‘don’t mind if i come inside then do ya? kinda… chilly tonight.” he stuffs his hands in his pockets, pivoting his body round to glance at the blowing trees. your expression settles like you’d been waiting for him to ask, and you widen the door gap — exposing all of you. you stand in the littlest night gown, white silk against your skin and john b feels like letting out a comical gulp. he didn’t think you’d be beautiful. where do beautiful girls get off murdering people? beautiful girls could have whatever they want.

“my, i’m a little shy standing here in my nightgown.” you converse as he passes you, acknowledging that you did infact catch him looking. he says nothing, just smiles and huffs out an awkward chuckle from his nose as he respectfully dusts his boots off on your welcome mat before strolling inside. the house was dark, lit only by candles and you follow him to the living room.

“tea? coffee?” you offer and he lowers himself into an arm chair, patting the quilted arms a few times with his large flat hands. he wants to scoff, knowing better than to take a drink from a probable murderer.

“wh— oh no no, this uh. this shouldn’t take long.” he watches you just as carefully as you watch him, and you make the conscious decision not to sit. you stay standing infront of him, skin glowing in the low light. you were wearing so close to nothing it was distracting to a pent up, perpetually single man like john b. he feels like loosening his tie.

“very well then, detective. what seems to be the issue?”

“do you know anything about a fire, ma’am?” he sounds hesitant, eyes wide but only in the way where he’s stiff with observation, not wanting to miss a second of a tell you might give. there’s a pause of hesitation before you nod, crossing your arms over yourself. unfortunately the only note taken there was that the action pressed your tits together.

“yes. very tragic.”

“yeah, no for sure… not many fires in this town right? got down to a record break last year. only three fires and they were pretty small.” he converses, relaxing a little into the seat. you stay on your feet.

“was bound to happen at some point i suppose. men have a habit of being reckless, leaving things switched on and so on. probably fell asleep with a candle burning.” you sway, eyes flickering to your own candles like you were imagining the same fate for yourself.

“for sure, for sure…” john b nods slowly, taking a moment to look down at his lap as he thinks. where he looks back up, you’re staring.

“he was a uh, boyfriend of yours — if my intel is correct?”

“ex. ex boyfriend.” you correct, jaw tightened just a smidgen like you couldn’t help yourself. john b stares you down, infact he could swear his lips quirk upward just a tiny bit. he’d so got you.

he settles a little more, resting his elbow on the arm of the seat so he could prop up his chin, staring at you with a knowing look.

“mind telling me where you were on sunday evening?” shit.

he watches the shift of emotion on your face, the way it falls ever so slightly before immediately lifting again, like you had full faith on yourself. you smile, huffing out a breathy little giggle as you tilt your head to the side like a confused puppy.

as you speak, you slowly begin to slip the strap of your nightgown down the smooth skin of your shoulder. “gosh, i barely remember. i spend so much time here… all lonely… was probably… keeping myself company, if you catch my meaning, officer.”

“detective.” he rasps, eyes following the strap like the weakling he is. he clears his throat.

“apologies, detective.” you correct, before pulling down the other strap. “you mind if i slip into something a little more comfortable before we continue with this?” you shoot him the innocent doe eyes. he raised his eyebrows, and you drop the nightgown to your feet anyway, naked as the day you were born. “much better.”

john b chuckles, tilting his head to the side as he looks up at you. “this what we’re doing now?” he deadpans with that warm friendly smile that drew you closer.

you giggle, and this time it’s actually authentic, stepping closer until you brave straddling his lap. he winces like you’d placed hot iron on him.

“is it working?” you try your luck, and he’s distracted by the fat of your hips, his coarser hands sliding up them to grab at the meat of them, watching the way your folds part around his growing bulge through his black work pants.

“ugh, i don’t know.” he groans quietly. he knew there was another version of him somewhere, behind glass, watching this all go down. he’d pound on the glass, telling himself to stop, that he was throwing away everything all for some pussy — but the truth was, he was lonely too. this life didn’t leave much room for… socialising.

knowing you were close to breaking him, you roll your hips, letting out an exaggerated whimper as you watch his hands slide up to your tits. “m’sure i can change your mind somehow detective. you really don’t wanna put those tight handcuffs on me, i’m only a fragile girl.”

“fuuuucking shit.” he groans in despair, and you feel his hardness wedged up beneath you.

it’s not even five minutes later and you’ve got him inside of you, his pants around his ankles — a true testament to the way you’d caught him out, used his loneliness against him and it didn’t even take any convincing, he cracked pretty much immediately. shit, he loved his job — but maybe he didn’t wanna go big city cop after all.

your hips went from rolling to aggressive bouncing, your teeth grit, primal and forceful like you couldn’t help yourself. the sweet little mewls you let out after each bounce didn’t match the sheer force at which you were milking him. over the harsh plap plap plap sound — you lean forward to his ear.

“why you lettin’ me get away with it detective? s’it cos you like me? do you like me?” god you were insane, but the neediness in your voice filled a hole he’d craved. he’d always wanted one of those girlfriends, the type that cares too much, wanna know his every move. he knew it was wrong, hell — you’d killed someone. but something about it was getting him off just as much as it was you.

despite being older than you by quite a bit, his eyes held this puppy like quality to them, a youthful gaze he stares up at you with. “because you’re pretty. really pretty, and uh — you’re young.” wow, he was messed up. he’s not even sure why he said the last part, everything was just so twisted.

he was aware of how much he was screwing himself. but hey, john b had always been a sucker for doe eyes and pretty tits, so who could blame the man?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Look, Don't Touch 3

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, stalking, breaking and entering, possible blood and violence, and femcel energy. Tags are not exhaustive and more may be added as the series progresses.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get bored of watching and that makes you careless. (dark!reader)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Note: my back hurts.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like snakes love Woody’s boots. Take care. 💖

Bucky's snores roll through the apartment. He's just as irritating asleep as he is awake. Your back racks and your legs cramp as you slump in the chair. Your eyes droop now and again only the roll open and flick to the blue digits of the clock. 

The minutes tick by like hours. His peaceful tempo irks you. It adds to the restlessness of your captivity.  

You don't blame him entirely. You're a dumb fucking bitch. Why didn't you do some scouting before you waltzed in? Wait it out to make sure it's clear. 

You go back and retrace your steps, over and over. Fuck. You're so stupid. So stupid. But not as stupid as that fucker thinks. 

Or as weak. 

He has that chip on his shoulder. He thinks his trauma overrides everyone else's. That no one else has been through shit. What you've been through you don't fucking think about because it's not worth it. He doesn't realise he's wasting his energy being such a miserable shit. 

You stare through the window for a while. The city sparkles here. Not like in your apartment where it blares like a broken television. 

Your head sinks down as your fatigue clouds your obstinacy. Your eyelids meet and your body slackens as much as it can within your bounds. The last look at the clock read about 3am. 

Your mind swirls in a miasma. Thick and viscous. Your skull thumps like sledge on concrete. Then all at once you're awake and shivering. 

The ice cold water seeps into your clothes as you gasp and gulp. Your lashes are webbed with moisture as you drip with the frigid rivulets. Bucky chuckles as a bucket hangs from his grip. 

"Morning sunshine." 

Your teeth chatter as you sneer back at him. You glance over at the city skyline. It's still a dusky mix of grey and blue. 

"0500. Up and at 'em," he proclaims chipperly. 

You shut your mouth and bite down on your shivers. This is what he wants. He's trying to break you. Well it's not gonna happen so soon. You've seen the videos on the dark web. You won't be scared by this emo bitch.  

"Gotta keep a routine." He taunts. 

You roll your eyes. Your gaze catches on the shine on the floor. You must've been out like a light. There's plastic under you. Maybe not just for the water. Well, you're not squeamish. 

"I usually start with a run. What do you do when you crawl out of your hole at one in the afternoon? Probably just the thought of Steve gets your heart pumping," he grits. 

"It helps," you snicker. "I've seen the real thing so... I'm certain my imagination is much better. The vibrator too." 

"Fucking smart ass," he mutters and stomps away. 

It's not a victory but it isn't defeat. You can match his energy, even if he's got you tied up like a dog. You wiggle in seat as that thought tickles something in you. You're twisted just like he said but he doesn't get to do that to you. Only Steve.  

He shuffles around in the bedroom. He emerges in track pants and a long sleeve tee. The legs are a bit too long for him. Steve's got a few inches on him, probably in more way than one. 

"I'll do about an hour," he taps on his watch. "Now you don't go getting into trouble." 

He scoffs and heads for the door. You tempo your breath as the goosebumps prickle over you in waves. Your clothes are soaked through. The door snaps shut and you huff. 

There's not much you can do. You close your eyes again. You're not going to sleep but you'll save your energy. As you languish in the slow drip of water pattering onto the plastic, your clothes grow stale and tepid. The wet fabric is sandpaper on your skin. 

He returns, whistling. He doesn't acknowledge you as he sets up in the kitchen. He puts his earbuds in the case and lets his music blast from the speaker. It's the kind of rock music a teenager listens to when they try to show off. 

You don't move. You're not going to let him see you squirm. He rattles around in the kitchen. 

"Gotta get lots of protein after a workout," he calls through as a pan sizzles. The aromas crawl over you and fill your lungs. Your tongue floods with saliva. "Lots of eggs, bacon, hm, oh Steve got the good greek yogurt." 

You don't answer his mocking monologue. You know what he's doing. Well if he thinks you've never gone hungry, that's his own martyr complex fueling his ego. 

He comes out with a full plate and sits across from you. He plants his feet wide, his plate in one hand as he shovels greedily with the fork. He stuffs his mouth and hums. 

You watch him calmly. He smirks and keeps pigging away on the food. There's enough for both of you and then some. You grimace. 

"How are you feeling? Hungry?" He asks. 

"Repulsed. You have grease on your chin." 

He pokes his tongue as he try to lick it up. You nearly gag at the remnants of food in his mouth. You don’t, you won't, look away. 

"I can hear your stomach," he says through a mouthful. "And your heart. Your lungs, too." 

"Yeah, I know you're a freak. Do you even know how the Russian fucks mangled you or did that go out the window with all the murder?" 

He gnashes his teeth down and narrows his eyes. His smile faded. It's your turn to grin. 

"Real fucked up from what I saw. There were some leaked classified docs after that weirdo Sokovian went off and planted those bombs." You tisk. "Children? Really? That's really der--" 

He's fast. Well, he is a super soldier. In an instant, he's in front of you, the plate is on the floor, and the fork is standing in your thigh as pain sears through your muscles. 

You yipe then muffle it to a groan. You take a deep breath as your lashes flick and you stare at the blood staining around the tines. You exhale through your lips and look at him. You don't stop smiling. 

You cackle, "hoooooo, I got you, Buck. I fucking got you." 

He stands straight and kicks the plate, scattering whats left of the eggs and bacon. He stomps away and balls his fists, grumbling and snarling. You laugh if only to keep from whimpering. 

There's pain beneath the swell of adrenaline. It's going to really hurt in a few minutes but right now, you feel great. You're awake. 

📷

Bucky appears again. His hair is damp and his skin is speckled with the aftermath of a shower. He has only a towel around his waist. Are you supposed to be impressed? 

He doesn't say a word as he moves around the apartment. He goes to the windows and looks out at the city. You stare at the couch dully. You're getting bored and your leg is throbbing. 

He circles around as you raise your brows, biding off the fatigue. Suddenly, he's behind you. He reaches around a rips the fork free. You grunt as blood pools up and spreads further along the denim.  

He wipes the tines on your sleeve, "I didn't get the artery, in case you're scared." He strides around and twirls the cutlery, "strange cause judging by your pulse, you're pretty fucking content with yourself." 

"Ha, is that what you want, hm?" You pout mockingly. "You wanna make a girl's heart race. Poor widdle winter baby don't got no place in this world. He wants to be wanted--" 

"You talk a pretty big game for someone as tiny as you are." He comes around and bends to look you in the eye. "What do you got going on? Who's going to even know you didn't make it home?" 

You hiss through a gritted smile, "you say that like I care. I've been pretty honest with you and myself. Maybe try a bit of introspection." 

"There's different types," he backs up and sits again. "The quiet ones. The violent ones. The talkers. Now, there's different kinds of talkers. The ones who threaten, then there's the ones who ramble. They talk so they don't gotta feel--" 

"You got me, Mr. Barnes. I'm so fucking scared of you I'm gonna piss my pants. You wanna watch again?" 

He chortles, "there ya go." 

"There I go." You sneer. "What's the game plan here, buddy? Starve me out? Think it'll happen before baby boy gets back? You gonna save some for him? Let him know you saved his ass. For once it wasn't the other way around huh?" 

"Shut up." 

"Or maybe that's a bad plan, huh? Steve might lose his shit a little. Realise he's not untouchable. I mean, a worm like me crawled right in--" 

"I said shut up," he snips. 

"You said it, I'm a talker. I gotta talk so I don't shake in my boots. Must feel like a big man. I mean I don't got Hydra juice in my veins and you could snap me like a twig," you scoff. "It's gotta make you a little hard." 

He tilts his head and squints, "you ever think of anything else?" 

"Don't worry, you're not in here," you nod your head. "It's all for the Captain. Second best again, sergeant." 

"You can't help yourself," he leans his elbows on his legs. 

"Well, I broke in, didn't I? Pretty clear I'm a bit off--" 

"No fucking shame." 

"It's really weird, don't you think? We only talk about shame when it's a woman. Men, they can do whatever the fuck they want and they're called outgoing and brave or committed, whatever." 

"Cut that shit," he snips. 

"It's true. But maybe that's not what this is. Maybe this is something else. Something more personal. Maybe you're jealous," you try to shrug. "The winter bozo got no fans to stalk him. Mm, sad." 

He stares at you then his gaze falls to your leg. He stands up and marches off. No answer. Typical. That's the thing about men, they can't admit when they're wrong. Can't own up to their faults but everyday a woman has to pay penance for just existing. 

He stomps back to you and slaps his hand down on your injured leg. The burning sensation of his palm tears a yowl from your and you look down as thick grains of salt tumble out between his fingers. He mashes the salt into your wound. You gnash your teeth and grunt. 

"FUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKK!" You seethe through your clamped jaw. 

He laughs, "this is kinda fun." He puts his forehead against yours. "And I can't help but agree with you, doll. Why the fuck am I fighting my programming?" He squeezes your leg and you wheeze. "Let's get nice and cozy with the soldier. He's got all the good ideas." 

You snort and twitch, halfway between agony and amusement. You push against him and snap your teeth. 

"Finally, something interesting." You rasp. 

He smirks and pushes of you. You groan as he turns cracks his neck. He tosses the salt onto the plastic sheet. You watch his metal hand open and close. 

He spins and struts into the kitchen. He comes back with your notebook. A strike of rage swells in you. Fuck. 

He stands in front of you and licks his fingertips. He clears his throat and flutters through the pages. 

"'I went to his place. It's nice. Different than being outside. His bed is big, it's a wonder he never fucks in it. Seems like Cap is afraid of commitment.'" He guffaws. "You really think you know him?" 

"Stream of consciousness." You utter. 

"Sure," he skims the lines on the pages. "'I think I had my biggest O in his bed. Just with my fingers. I could smell him around me. If I closed my eyes, he was there--'"  

He shifts and the towel twitches. Your lips slant. Disgusting. 

"Do you really think he'd want to touch something like you?" 

"I can draw a line between fact and fiction. How about you?" You chirp. "You can't even remember how many innocent people you killed--" 

"It's getting old," he growls.  

"Maybe Stevie won't want a piece. I'm not delusional, just obsessive. But you-" you nod to his crotch. "Seems like you're getting a bit too into this." 

He lowers the notebook and grins. "You ever actually fucked a guy?" 

"What does it matter?" 

"Is that it? You think Steve wants to pluck the flower in your dusty little garden?" 

"It was never--" you huff and wiggle in the chair. "Look, you don't get it. It was never supposed to be real. It's like a TV show. A distraction. Something to do." 

"Wow, that's sad." 

"Yeah, but it's the truth. A lot of people can't face themselves in the mirror." 

"Oh virtue," he scoffs and throws the notebook on the couch behind him. "Is it honesty or self-pity?" 

"Bit of both." You look up defiantly as he steps closer. "Look at me. I know what I am. I'm a creep but I don't deny it. What you are, you can't even say it out loud." 

He exhales and his chest compressed. He puts his hands on his hips as he glowers at you. His towel tents and you frown. 

"Dude, get that away from me." 

"What's the matter? Is this the closest you've been?" He taunts. 

You lean back and keep your eyes up, "I've seen a dick. Touched a few even. Trust me, I'm not interested." 

"I could put on the suit. There's a back-up in his closet." 

"Nasty." 

"Look who's talking," he retorts. "You think I'm fucking serious?" 

"I know the things you're capable of, soldat." You challenge. 

His eyes flare and his knuckles flash across your vision, bone snapping against your cheek. You close your mouth as it floods with iron. You swallow the blood and wiggle a back tooth with your tongue. You snicker. 

You face him as the swelling thrums hotly under the surface. He glares back at you. You lean back and round your eyes. You've never been good at that cutesy shit. 

He smirks, "keep going, baby. We'll see who breaks first." 

You lower your lashes and sniffle. He hovers and you steel yourself. You lurch forward and open your mouth. The chair tilts with your weight and you bite through the cotton as your teeth meet the towel. You pinch something beneath it. Him. 

He exclaims and punches your head. He grunts as the chair tips and falls on its side. Your head bounces against the chair. The towel heaps next to you as he growls and cradles his erection. 

"The fuck? You are deranged!" 

"I told you to move back," you slur as silver stars spatter across your vision.  

"Fucking bitch," he hisses and leaves you on the plastic. You laugh until it fades into a dry crackle. You hit your head pretty good and he got a few good shots in too. 

[hwaslayer]

vivrant thing (jwy) | six. (final)

—SPOTIFY PLAYLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

—SUMMARY: after getting into a little accident, wooyoung decides to do his sister a favor by pretending to be your date at the company summer party. as soon as the night ends, wooyoung would go back to his usual routine of hanging out with his boys, keeping his distance from committed relationships and being a typical brother to jiwoo. except, the favor comes with more than what wooyoung expects and he finds you occupying his mind more than usual. 

—PAIRING: jung wooyoung x f. reader

—GENRE: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriend’s brother au | fluff, angst, smut

—WORD COUNT: 8.6k

—CHAPTER CONTENT / WARNINGS: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, date night, the spot mentioned is inspired by an actual place in sf (i will not name it here tho because of spoilers lol pls feel free to message me if you'd like to know)!, half-up-half-down-haired wooyoung, alcohol consumption, corny pickup lines!!, lots and lots of kisses, sweet affectionate moments, woo x oc are literally so cute idek what else to say besides it should be a warning itself lol, making out, oral (f. receiving), fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, breast play, multiple orgasms (2), we love a good ol' jung family moment lmao

—ON ROTATION (all in the playlist): i like the way (the kissing game) - hi-five • fantasy - mariah carey • we can freak it - kurupt • let's get down - tony! toni! toné! & dj quik

—A/N: thank you soooo much for all your love on this fic and for coming along this lil journey!! 🥰 i appreciate it so SO much! stay tuned for more wildfire & other fics to come .. <33

"Papa. Call me or Wooyoung if you need anything, okay? We'll come." Papa brushes you off as he sits on his couch, blanket folded neatly and placed ontop of his lap.

"I'll be fine. I promise."

"Pinky swear?" You raise your pinky in the air and he does the same.

"Yes, pinky swear." He laughs a bit. "Now please, I need you two to have fun on your date. Don't worry about me. No if's, and's or but's. You and Wooyoung have been taking care of me so much, that's all I'm asking for." You tilt your head to the side before you playfully roll your eyes and smile. Papa can't help but return the smile because he hasn't seen you glow like this in years.

—FLASHBACK

"Woo." You finish gathering Papa's old clothes into the bag the hospital gave you, Papa sitting on the edge of his bed in the new sweatsuit you bought for him. "I'm gonna go find his nurse, I wanna give her the gift before we go." You set the bag next to Wooyoung as he finishes cleaning up around Papa's bed, getting ready to take him down to the car.

"Okay. We'll wait here." Wooyoung sits on the chair, asking if Papa needs anything else before leaving. He finds his attention shifting towards the door when he feels a figure suddenly come into his peripherals. "Oh shit, you scared me."

"Hey, sorry." Yeosang peeks in through the doorway, softly knocking against the frame.

"All good." Wooyoung looks at him, with Papa turning his attention towards Yeosang as well.

"Oh, Yeosang! It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too." Yeosang slowly steps forward after giving a curt bow. "I'm sorry I'm a bit late, I meant to visit yesterday but got caught up with some family things. I see you're getting ready to head out!"

"Yes, finally getting out of here." Papa chuckles. "Don't worry about it. The thought is what counts." Yeosang nods before shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"Glad to see it." He smiles. "Is Y/N around?"

"She went to go find the nurse. She should be back in a few minutes if you wanna wait around." Wooyoung looks at him. "She'd be happy to see you."

"Thanks."

"Do you need to use the bathroom or anything?" Wooyoung asks Papa to try and distract himself from the awkward energy lingering in the room.

"No, I'm okay." Wooyoung nods. Lucky for him, you come prancing in at that very moment— stopping in your tracks when you find Yeosang lingering around the room. You give him a small smile, approaching him sweetly like you always do. 

"Yeo."

"Hey. Sorry. I meant to come yesterday, but I got busy. I got worried when I didn't see you at work, but Jiwoo told me what's been happening." You shake your head.

"Don't worry about it."

"No, I'm sorry for not checking in on you sooner when I should've. I've been letting my feelings get in the way and it's unfair to you."

"It's okay, Yeosang. Seriously. I understand, and I know things will take time."

"Are you going to stare any harder?" Papa whispers to Wooyoung and he knits his forehead in response, purses his lips together tightly.

"I could try." Wooyoung is slightly taken aback when you start giggling at Yeosang, hand on his arm as he continues to apologize and promises he'd be a better friend moving forward. "Hm. That giggle sounds new." Wooyoung looks at Papa and he laughs it off. "It's at a new pitch. Haven't heard that one before." Wooyoung stands, grabbing Papa's bag of things from the chair.

"I'm sure she just missed her friend." Papa smiles at Wooyoung and squeezes his shoulder. 

"I'm glad you're doing better." Yeosang turns to Papa.

"Thank you, and thank you for taking the time to drop by." Yeosang nods before giving Wooyoung a small, toothless smile.

"Anyways, I'm gonna get going so you guys can take your leave." He turns to you. "See you next week?" You nod, waving him off as he heads out the door.

"Where'd you learn to giggle like that? In all my years of knowing you, I've never heard that one. Had a 'lil kick to it." Wooyoung slips his hand in yours as you all slowly begin to leave the room, his other hand holding Papa's bag.

"Wooyoung." You whine and he laughs.

"I'm kidding." Wooyoung looks down at you. "Are you guys okay now?"

"I think so. We will be. But, I'm more confident after today."

"That's good. I'm glad you guys got to talk for a bit."

"Mmyeah."

"Do you feel better?"

"I do."

"That's all that matters."

—END

"Okay. I'll swing by tomorrow." You give him a quick hug before rushing out and heading back home to get ready for your date. You smile to yourself knowing you'd get to spend time with Wooyoung soon. He didn't give you the details of your date besides being ready at 7pm on the dot for dinner and to.. bring a small item or trinket that's unique?

"So, what did you end up deciding to bring?" Jiwoo asks over the phone while you have her on Facetime, adding some mascara and a bit of blush just like she had taught you.

"Mhm." You hum. "The vintage 1972 9ct gold sea pearl ring."

"Ah, so not the vintage Mickey Mouse ring?"

"No." You giggle. "I kinda wanna keep it."

"I figured." Jiwoo chuckles. "I wonder what Wooyoung is up to. He wouldn't budge when I asked which date idea he settled on."

"Didn't think he would." You chuckle. "I'm surprised you didn't find out from this detail alone?"

"No. He only gave me really vague descriptions. I'm sure he knew I'd figure it out and accidentally spoil it." You faintly hear Hongjoong in the back respond with a 'yeah, we all don't want that.' "I have to give it to my brother, though. He does think of the best and most unique ideas for our family outings. He definitely settled on something different."

"I'll let you know how it goes." You sigh, pressing your lips together after you've put on some clear, sparkly gloss. "So, all good?" You flip the camera to the mirror to show off the outfit Jiwoo helped you pick. It's a tight, black rib-knit long-sleeve, cut-out mini dress with simple black knee-high boots. Wooyoung made it very clear that the formal dress-code was strict; a suit-and-tie, pretty dress kinda vibe if you will.

"Perfect. My brother will be all over you." She pretends to playfully gag. "Cute! But, gross!" You chuckle and roll your eyes. At this point, you hear someone climbing up the steps before doing a faint whistle, followed by the [cute] calling of your name outside your unit. 

"Your brother's here."

"Have fun! Let me know how he does." You nod before giving her your last goodbye and ending the call. You head to your door, swinging it open to Wooyoung standing there with the most beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers: peonies. Wooyoung smiles when he sees your eyes light up at the flowers, the peonies ranging in color from white to light pink.

"Woo." You pout a bit. "They're so pretty."

"Nice! I'd hope so, I ran my ass around town to find the best looking one." You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck for a tight hug. He holds you tightly, placing a light kiss to your temple before pulling back and ogling at you from head to toe. "Sheeeesh. Optimus Prime gotta make way for Miss Optimus Fine over here." Wooyoung finds himself completely smitten over you; the dress [yet again] fitting your curves perfectly, hugging your ass tightly. He loves how you normally dress, don't get him wrong. But, the rare moments when he gets you like this— he swears he gets heart palpitations.

He could lose himself right then and there.

"You—Stop it." The heat rises to your cheeks as you shyly take the flowers and quickly throw them in a vase with water. "Thank you." You give him a shy smile and he laughs.

"You're so cute. Ready?" You nod, sitting to sift through your purse and make sure it has all your necessities. Wooyoung's in a simple white button up, a few top buttons undone. He's got on black slacks and some boots, his hair half-up, half-down. Some strands framing his beautifully-sculpted face.

"Mhm." You stand and grab your bag, Wooyoung already slinging your duffle bag over his shoulder. He suggested for you to stay the night at his this time, ready to provide and take care of you from the start to the end. 

"Actually, there's one more thing— there is a small service fee for those flowers because I had to drive to five different—" You shake your head, shutting him up with a kiss to the lips before slipping your hand into his. 

"All good?" Wooyoung smiles.

"You know me so well. But, I think there was also a—" You gently hit his chest. "Ah— ow. Just wanted a kiss for the road."

"Then, you could've just asked, Jung 2." You giggle, giving him another sweet, chaste kiss to the lips before leading the way down the steps. You take each step slowly with the god forbidden heeled boots you have on, Wooyoung poking fun and teasing you as he holds your hand every step of the way. "These boots are atrocious."

"Well, first of all, I'm gonna correct you and say I'm Jung 1. I will not hold that one against you either, but I can't keep giving you passes, babe." He swings your door open and lets you get settled before hovering over your seat. "And two, the boots look really good on you. Especially in that dress." He shuts your door and jogs over to the driver's seat, plopping in before turning on the car and getting settled himself.

"Where are we going?"

"Don't worry about it, princess." He scrolls through his playlist to find a good song to kick off his drive. "Did you bring a little trinket or something?"

"Mhm!" You pull out the small red box with the pearl ring inside.

"Damn, that's pretty. You sure you wanna trade it in?" You nod.

"It was either this or a vintage Mickey Mouse ring, and I wanna keep the Mickey Mouse one." You frown a bit and he smiles.

"Fair enough." He sets his phone down in the middle console, We Can Freak It by Kurupt playing in the background before shifting gears. "Good?" You silently nod, giving Wooyoung the green light to drive off to the destination of the night. Wooyoung drives flawlessly with one hand as he softly sings along, hand coming to your thigh. It's warm, soft; sends tingles down your spine when he gently caresses the inner part and gives it a squeeze. It's not long before you figure out he's heading towards the central part of downtown— an area you don't frequent much because it's mainly known for its nighttime scene. He doesn't hop off the freeway until after 20 minutes have passed, navigating through the city streets easily despite all the cars that are out and about tonight. "Hella busy." He says, quickly switching to the right lane to turn onto a street. "Might have to walk a bit, baby. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." You respond softly. When he hits another red light, he leans onto the middle console and puckers his lips for a kiss. You lean forward to meet him, pecking him quickly before the light turns green again. He smiles at you, squeezing your thigh just a little harder this time around. He turns down another street that has a few shops and bars, almost driving in circles around the same streets until he snags a spot towards the end of the block. He hops out to help you out of the car, telling you the place was a quick walk down the street. It's about another 7 min walk down, you and Wooyoung crossing the street to the opposite side until he slows in his pace and stops in front of.. a pawn shop? There isn't much to it besides a sign at the top, bright lights illuminating the 'CHECKS CASHED, PAYDAY LOANS' slogan. Brick walls, unclean windows. You're utterly confused, and it must be obvious because Wooyoung chuckles in slight amusement before he asks:

"You trust me, yeah?" You silently nod, your hand gripping his a little tighter. "You'll enjoy it, I promise." He says before pushing the door open and stepping into the tiny pawn shop.

"Hey! Welcome to the shop! I'm Don— woah, damn— I'm sorry, forgive me for being so forward but ya'll are the most attractive couple I've ever come across. My gawd." Wooyoung laughs and nods in acknowledgement. He leans onto the glass case full of random, unique vintage trinkets and items— the walls and shelves also littered with vintage collectibles and posters. "So. How can I help you beautiful people? Shopping for little trinkets? Trying to get into some trouble?"

"Trouble sounds accurate." You freeze. The hell is up Wooyoung's sleeve? "Spoken word night?"

"Ah. Trouble indeed. Can I quickly see your IDs?" You look at Wooyoung from behind, your eyes lighting up in surprise. A spoken word event in a pawn shop? You're so lost. The entire place looks so small, you can't even imagine where it'd all take place. Anyway, both you and Wooyoung flash your IDs to Don. He takes a good look before nodding in approval. "Cool. You got your trades for entry? Jokes will work, too. Kinda prefer them, actually. Or, you can sing me a song." You squeeze Wooyoung's arm.

"You can sing!" You whisper harshly.

"Not great, though."

"Woo." You frown at him and he feels like he's melted into a puddle.

"Yeah, Woo. What's it gonna be?"

"Baby." He shoots you a look. "Listen, I like to think I'm pretty funny and I think I've got a few notes in me, but I highkey don't wanna embarrass myself in front of my lady here." Don chuckles and nods.

"I'll give you that. She is very pretty." You shy behind Wooyoung as you give Don another tiny smile. "Snagged a queen, my dearest!"

"She is, yeah." Wooyoung turns over his shoulder briefly before returning his attention to Don. "Anyway, we've got these." Wooyoung slides over your red velvet box and his small collection of vintage matchboxes.

"Nice, these are quite the collectibles." He takes the items and places them in a free area at the corner of the glass container beneath him. "Access granted." Don shuts the door to the container close before turning around to grab something off the shelf. "But, before I give you the code. A little something for the pretty lady." Don slides you a roll of paper— like a mini poster, a print.

"Thank you, Don." You hold onto the poster.

"What about me?" Wooyoung whines a bit, and Don frowns.

"A flying kiss." Don shoots him a lousy flying kiss before pointing at the 'employees only' door. "The code is 000." Wooyoung cocks a brow up.

"That's it?"

"Who is going to memorize anything outside of that?"

"Touché." Wooyoung shrugs a bit before leading the way to the door. "Thanks!"

"Enjoy yourselves, my cutie pies." Don leans onto the glass container and watches as Wooyoung plugs the code in. The buttons flash green repeatedly until a click is heard. Wooyoung holds the door handle down and pushes, the other side of the door a completely different vibe from the front pawn shop. It's dark, it's elegant, it's sleek. There's a bar off to the left side, with low lights on the shelves that hold all liquor bottles for decor. There's a backdrop with hues of blues and purples right behind it. There's a few neon lights bordering the mirrors and frames around the place, the wallpaper to the right a little more 'old time-y' and vintage. There's a small stage at the other end of the room, high tables and chairs scattered across the floor space in the middle with tiny tea candles sitting as simple centerpieces.

"Oh my god." Your eyes roam around the room while Wooyoung quickly talks to a staff member and heads to a table closer to the stage.

"You like?" You look at him and smile from ear to ear.

"Like? I love it. This is amazing." You squeeze his hand just as he pulls out your chair, letting you get settled before he slips into the empty chair next to you. "How'd you find out about this?"

"I do my research."

"So, you've never been here before?" He shakes his head.

"Heard about it in passing a couple of times, but never looked into it or anything. Did my research, thought it'd be a good place to take a pretty girl out to." You rest your chin on the palm of your hand, giggling as Wooyoung leans over to press a chaste kiss on your neck, right below your earlobe. "So, they have shareable plates. Small dessert plates. Cocktails. Let me know what you want and we'll get it." He slides over the long, one page menu. The both of you skim over some good, shareable plates you two would enjoy, along with cocktails and a plate of dessert after. You point out about two items that catch your eye, also letting Woo know you'd like to try one of their fruity cocktails. He makes sure that's all you want before calling over the waitress and relaying the order to her. At this point, the live band makes their way on the stage, introducing themselves as the opening act before the actual spoken word event begins. They begin to sing a few upbeat songs, one being Let's Get Down by Tony! Toni! Toné! and DJ Quik. Wooyoung dances a bit in his seat, getting you to bounce along with him to the music. He scoots a little closer, arm hanging on the back of your high chair while he whispers sweet compliments in your ear. You giggle, Wooyoung kissing your temple before returning his attention to the live band in front.

"Hey, by the way, what's the poster Don gave you?" He nods at the rolled up poster on the edge of the table.

"Hm, good question." You take it and carefully peel the tape off, unraveling it on the table. Your eyes light up when you realize what it is— the timing of the coincidence catching you a bit off guard. "Woo! It's that vintage Spirited Away poster!" You look at him. "The one you posted."

"That's crazy, actually. I saw it and was thinking about how I could get it for you, but no one was selling it. I looked high and low."

"Looks like it ended up coming my way, anyway." Wooyoung nods.

"Where are you gonna hang it up?"

"Mm, maybe near the door?" 

"Well, wherever you put it, it'll look good." The live band starts slowing down, playing soothing background music to introduce the first poet of the night. The food comes as she's introducing herself, the waitress neatly spreading the plates across the table. 

"Cheers, cutie." Wooyoung raises his cocktail glass and taps it against yours before the both of you start sipping and picking at your plates. You and Wooyoung listen intently to each performance, with you thoroughly enjoying every poem, every delivery, every attitude of the poets tonight. You find yourself reacting along with Wooyoung, feeling all the emotions each poet puts out into the audience.

To the room.

To you, Wooyoung.

And he must've felt the energy shift a bit once the piano starts playing different music to convey the deep, genuine, raw emotion. Because he was once focused on the performer on the stage— now, he's looking at you. At first he starts to think about how crazy this all is; how he would have never known that the person he'd fall the deepest [and quickest] for would be you. It's crazy how you're the person to make him feel things he hasn't felt before, it's crazy how you're the person that's helping him understand the true, real meaning of the 'L' word.

It's crazy how you might just be his person.

You look at Wooyoung over the edge of your glass, and he maintains the eye contact as his hand rubs at your arm. But, he's really looking at you, a soft smile growing on the edge of his lips while he truly takes the time to admire everything about you;

Your eyes.

Your nose.

Your lips.

Your moles.

And Wooyoung feels like he should've done this years ago— should've just taken that leap back then when he realized how incredibly jaw-dropping beautiful you were, inside and out. He's always known it, but tonight, as he's looking at you, it almost feels like.. he's flying first class.

Like he's a planet orbiting the sun, the solar system orbiting the center of your galaxy.

"What is it?"

"You're beautiful." He leans in towards your ear. "Thank you for coming out with me tonight, Y/N." You shake your head and smile him.

"No, thank you." You rest your chin on your hands while you cock your head to the side and shyly look at him. He smiles back, meeting you in the center to kiss you on your lips once— twice, three times. 

"As long as you're happy." You don't respond besides a small smile, your turn to quickly eye Wooyoung's features. You feel the butterflies soaring high in your tummy, the goosebumps painting the surface of your skin. The umpteenth lip bites you gotta do to prevent yourself from smiling way too big;

Cause yeah, you are. Wooyoung makes you the happiest girl.

The spoken word event lasts for almost 2 hours, followed by another performance from the live band with some dancing. At first, you feel a little too shy even with the alcohol kicking in. But, eventually, you let Wooyoung guide you to the dance floor, remembering how well he took care of you during the night of the party. He holds your hand, keeps you close— dancing along to the band in a way that isn't too much or too little. Just enough to have fun with you in his arms and keep you safe.

He loves seeing you come out of your shell, and he likes being the reason behind it.

When it all wraps up, you're beyond satisfied and happy— both with the food, drinks, the performances and the band tonight. You hang onto your poster tightly, giving Don a quick hug and thanking him for just knowing the right gift to give you. He waves the both of you off, telling you that he hopes you and Woo will visit again soon. Since the weather isn't too cold for the night, you and Wooyoung decide to walk towards the opposite end of the block to get to the water, the bridge. When you finally reach the view, you gasp and point at the pretty lights illuminating the bridge.

"Woo, look. The lights are so pretty, it's like a little show on the bridge." He chuckles.

"Yeah, it is pretty." He whips out his phone to take a good photo of the view ahead of him. You slowly walk along the rail to get a better look at the water, hand trailing against the cold, metal surface as you watch the huge cargo boats slowly drift away. "Baby."

"Hm?" You turn over your shoulder.

"You're not cold, are you?" You shake your head.

"No." The lighting from the street light is hitting you beautifully from where you stand, and Wooyoung thinks it would be perfect to capture your picture here. "Wait." He says just as you start to walk away. "Stay put, babygirl. Let me take your picture." You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, still getting used to Wooyoung's photos of you. But, he's able to snap a few really good candid photos. You can't explain how he does it, but he seems to always capture the best of you. "Alright." Wooyoung says, meeting you from behind. "Look." Wooyoung shows you the pictures.

"They're amazing."

"That's a new wallpaper right there." He smirks, immediately changing his wallpaper. "Miss Optimus Fine, I'm telling you." You laugh, playfully nudging Wooyoung away. "You probably think I'm joking, but I need you to know how serious this is."

"You're too much."

"Being honest." He shrugs, slipping his hand into yours. "Did you really have fun tonight?"

"I did. I really, really did." You look up at him. "Thank you for tonight."

"My pleasure." 

"Wooyoung." You look up at the sky before you look back out to the water.

"Yes?"

"What're you thinking about right now?" He lets out a tiny chuckle.

"Uh, well. I'm thinking about a movie or show we could watch when we get in bed. I'm thinking about breakfast for tomorrow. I'm thinking about some of the lines from the poems we heard today. I'm thinking about which drawer I accidentally slipped my favorite pair of underwear into cause I haven't seen them in a hot minute." You laugh. "What about you?"

"Well. I'm thinking about what people are doing on the other side of the bridge." He nods, listening intently. "I'm thinking about those churro sticks and that chocolate sauce we just ate. I'm thinking about how nice your bed is gonna feel later, and.. how I wanna change in my crocs when we get to the car." He snorts.

"Ah, was waiting for that one." There's a small silence that falls between you two, but it isn't uncomfortable despite Wooyoung growing nervous by the minute. He feels like he just needs to ask because if he doesn't, he'll blow. He needs to know if you can be his and vice versa; he's dying to know if you're on the same page about a relationship like he is. "You know what else I've been thinking about?"

"Hm?" You hum.

"You." Wooyoung looks at you.

"What about me?"

"Everything's about you." He smiles. "I could go on for days if you say it like that."

"Wooyoung." You chuckle. "Is there something bothering you?" You tick your head to the side to look at him before returning your attention to your boots, kicking at the dirt beneath them.

"Not necessarily." He lets out a breath. "Well. Iono. Bear with me here, I'm awful at voicing my feelings, as we know." You giggle. "Been thinking. We've been hanging out a lot. Staying at each other's places. Doing things couples do, but I don't know if I'm misreading anything. What I do know is that I just.. want you to be mine." He looks at you shyly. "I'm not sure how you feel and all—"

"You're not misreading anything, and you don't have to question how I feel." You pause in your steps. "You already have me, Woo."

"Do I?" It's his turn to pause in his steps and look at you directly. "Cause I really, really want you to be my girlfriend, if that's alright with you. You can say no, and we'll never talk about this again, but jesus fucking christ that would hurt—"

"Hey." You shake your head. "None of that, okay? It's more than alright, Jung 1. I'd love to be your girlfriend." He laughs before pulling you flush to his body, hands resting on your hips.

"Hm, see. Doesn't it feel better to call me Jung 1?" He teases. 

"It feels better to call you my boyfriend, though." Wooyoung's hands come up to cup your cheeks, bringing you in for a sweet, passionate kiss on the lips. One that doesn't break for a few minutes, one that gives you a hard time pulling away from Wooyoung. Your hands are gripping the sides of his shirt, smiling into each kiss when he doesn't part right away either. 

"God, I—" Kiss. "Like you—" Another kiss. "So much."

"Woo?" You finally break.

"Hm?" He caresses the surface of your cheek.

"Take me home?"

"Gladly." He dips in for one last kiss before lacing his hand with yours and leading the way back to the car. The both of you finally talk about some memorable lines from the night, doing a deep dive and dissecting what each poet was trying to convey, what the meaning was behind every word and every delivery. And you love listening to Wooyoung ramble on about his thoughts, asking for your opinion and what you think. Everything feels so.. balanced, and it's a little terrifying just as it is comforting. But you do trust him; you feel like you trust Wooyoung more than anyone you've ever dated.

It's probably the years tacked on of knowing him, getting close to him. Seeing his good and bad. Growing up with Wooyoung and watching him change throughout the seasons; watching him become who he is today. Imperfectly perfect.

When you get to the car, Wooyoung immediately pops the trunk and grabs your crocs wrapped neatly in a plastic bag inside your duffle. He sets them on the floor, crouching to help you get out of your boots while you sit on the edge of the trunk. You give him a tiny, toothless smile as he tosses your boots back inside the trunk, shutting it close before helping you get settled into the car. As usual, Wooyoung kicks up the heat before selecting the perfect song to start the journey home. The drive home feels much quicker this time around, less and less cars being out on the street and highway the more you travel away from the central downtown area. Along the way, Wooyoung places kisses to the surface of your hand while he continues driving— smiling to himself while you quietly sit and observe the view.

He just observes you from time to time, in between his focus on the road.

You balance him out, like Yin and Yang.

The Sun and Moon.

Light and Dark.

The Earth and Heavens.

Shit is surreal.

Before Wooyoung can do a deeper dive into his feelings for you, he pulls into his assigned spot and shuts off the car. He lets out a small huff he gets out and grabs your things, exhaustion slowly taking over his body. You let him lead the way up to his apartment, immediately kicking off your shoes when you get inside. He kicks up the heat just a tad, lighting up a candle on his kitchen counter. 

"I'm gonna get ready for bed, if that's okay with you?" He looks at you and nods.

"Of course. Get comfy." He says before cleaning up in his kitchen, making sure everything remains spotless and tidy while you're around. 

"Wooyoung?" You pop out of his room with his shirt in hand. "Can I?" He nods.

"You don't have to ask, baby." He chuckles. "Go for it. One less shirt won't do much to the already missing shirts and hoodies from my closet. Wonder where those went." He teases, making you giggle as you run off to the bathroom. You take a quick shower to freshen up, following up with your skincare routine and other necessities before slipping into Wooyoung's shirt. Just as you make your way back to his room, you overhear him on the phone as he sorts through his drawers.

"What do you mean, I did!" You look at him as his pitch gets a little higher. He lets out a heavy sigh before he holds out his phone. "Mom is hounding my ass, can you please let her know you had a good time tonight? She's afraid you're gonna run off." He gives you those doe-eyes and you can't help but giggle as you take his phone.

—FLASHBACK

"Mother! Father!" Jiwoo yells as she walks into the house and follows the scent of fresh food being cooked in the kitchen. "Ah, there you are. Where's Dad?"

"Hi Jiwoo. He's in the back watering his plants." She looks at Jiwoo. "We haven't gone grocery shopping yet, so please spare me—"

"I'm sorry, did I warp into Wooyoung? He's the one who does his grocery shopping in the fridge and pantry, not me."

"So, what're you doing here?"

"I can't just visit my lovely parents on a random Wednesday afternoon?"

"Suspicious, but okay. Where's Hongjoong?"

"Gym." She sighs. "Okay, I lied. I did come here for a reason, actually."

"Of course, I figured. What is it?"

"You might wanna sit."

"Jiwoo, I have to make dinner."

"Fine, don't say I didn't warn you." She pauses dramatically. "Wooyoung's dating someone." Her mom gives her a look before returning her attention to the cutting board. 

"What's new?"

"No. It's like, a real relationship." Jiwoo doesn't even know what she means by this but it's the easiest way for her parents to understand.

"With who?"

"Y/N—" The skinned, uncooked potato slips out of her mom's hand and tumbles into the sink.

"What?!" She puts her knife down and places her hand on her hip. "Jung Jiwoo, you don't come into this house and start making jokes like that! What is wrong with you!"

"Who said it was a joke?! I just said it was real. Besides, the clown in this family is Wooyoung— certainly not I."

"Wooyoung.. is dating Y/N?!" 

"I know, woof. How devastating to actually have to share her now." Her mom takes a minute to sit on it before she screams happily in the kitchen, scaring the heebiejeebies out of their father.

"What on earth is going on?" He says, barreling into the kitchen from the back door. "Why are you screaming like that?"

"Wooyoung! He's finally dating a good girl!" She rejoices. "We did it! You manifested it! He's got a good girl! Y/N! Sweet Y/N!" She continues to cry. "There's hope! He's finally settling down and he's got a good girl!" She repeats.

"Y/N?! Yeah right."

"Dad." Jiwoo snorts. "It's serious. Wooyoung has serious lovey-dovey eyes for her. He looks like he's gonna vomit the 'L' word any day now. It's kinda wild. Your son is a changed man."

"The L word! A changed man!" Her mom yells.

"Honey, can you— what? Since when?" Her dad is moreso surprised and eager to know details, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter to hear more. "The L word?"

"Did he take her out on a date and everything? Where did they go?" Mom adds. 

"As far as I know, he's going to. He waited it out because of the whole thing with Papa. He's been helping take care of him, too."

"Jiwoo, you better make sure your brother doesn't—"

"Mom, relax." Jiwoo elongates her response. "It's gonna be fine! He told me his ideas and they're all great. You know Wooyoung is good at planning stuff. He's creative. He'll take her out on a good date and he'll take care of her." She fake shivers. "Please don't make me say more. It'll be fine! Trust!" It's almost like a signal goes off, or a radar, because Wooyoung comes strolling into the house right at this moment; stumbling into the kitchen to see his family huddled around together.

"Aw, you guys got together for me?" His shit-eating smirk dies when he sees the way his family looks. "What?" Wooyoung walks further into the kitchen, furrowing his brows at the way his mom looks like she's about to break down, while his dad is sporting a big grin with his arms crossed. "Why do you guys look like that? Feel like I just walked into Honey, I Shrunk the Kids." He sets his keys down on the kitchen table as Jiwoo giggles.

"The simp has arrived."

"What are you— oh my fucking god, Jiwoo. You told them, didn't you? You couldn't wait like 5 minutes for me to come and do it myself?!"

"You're too slow! Besides, she's my bestfriend and I can also share the news on her behalf, too. Remember, you're sharing with me." He mocks her before rolling his eyes.

"Shut up. I would've just called up the news station if I wanted it broadcasted by people other than myself." He scoffs. "No wonder mom looks like she's aboutta cry. Good going."

"It was gonna come out anyway!"

"Jung Wooyoung, you better take that girl out on a good date and take care of her. Don't lose that girl!"

—END

"Y/N." 

"Hi." You respond sweetly like you always do.

"Did Wooyoung take care of you tonight? Did you have fun?" 

"Yeah, I did. He did really well, actually." You look at him.

"Oh, thank God." You can faintly hear his dad in the background telling her to hang up the phone and leave you two alone, which she responds with a quick 'I'm going, I just wanna make sure they're okay' before returning her attention to you. "That's all I needed to know. You two take care and have a good evening, okay? Get some rest! And tell Wooyoung not to call me tomorrow. I know he will and I won't be picking up— anyway, my husband is getting on me. I'm so happy you had fun tonight! I'll leave you now, sweetheart."

"Okay, I'll let him know." You laugh a bit as you say your goodbyes and hang up the phone. "She said you can't call her tomorrow."

"To hell I can't." He clicks his teeth as you playfully hit his chest.

"What'd you ask for?"

"Some groceries."

"Wooyoung."

"What? I know she has extras." He smirks. "And I'm the favorite so I know she can't say no to me." He shuts his drawer. "I'll be back, baby. My turn to freshen up." He leans forward to peck you on the lips before heading over to the bathroom.

You let out a content sigh as you slip into Wooyoung's covers, the sheets against your skin feeling like heaven. You scroll through Instagram to see the stories Wooyoung has tagged you in— reliving the night through his candid pictures and videos. 

You smile to yourself because you truly can't remember the last time you seemed so genuinely happy. Maybe the summer party? But, it all goes back to Wooyoung.

You press the heart for all his stories, even reacting to one where he actually posted a picture of you and wrote out:

must have stumbled into a museum cause i found this work of art 😚

In which, you let out a small laugh to yourself before replying with a 'stop it' to his story. 

After watching a few reels in a row, Wooyoung steps back into the room. The hallway behind him is dark, the entire unit outside no longer lit. You feel the butterflies in your tummy knowing he'll slip into bed with you to cuddle soon.

"Still awake?"

"Yeah, but mm'pooped." Wooyoung laughs, shutting his bedroom door close. He's in an old, graphic tee and loose pants, fresh out of the shower himself. His hair is still slightly damp, some ends sticking to his neck as he shuts off the lights and crawls onto the bed. You've already settled into his covers, scrolling through your phone and letting Jiwoo know you and Wooyoung have made it home safely.

jiwoo: did you have fun? did my brother do well?!

jiwoo: mom was about to panic-cry earlier, she doesn't want wooyoung to lose you

you: he did, i had a lot of fun! ☺️ she doesn't have to worry. lol i'll tell you more tomorrow. we got home safely and are hanging out in the room now.

jiwoo: okay! 

jiwoo: 🤢

jiwoo: feel free to hold off on further details

jiwoo: but pls tell my brother he's still second best

jiwoo: ok mwah i love u talk to u later, bye!

You giggle just as Wooyoung slips in next to you, setting his phone on the charger sitting on the nightstand. You do the same, setting your phone next to his before sliding back down into the sheets.

"What happened?"

"Was just texting your sister."

"Oh ew, nevermind. Forget I asked." You turn to face him completely with a smile on your face.

"She said you were still second best." Wooyoung shakes his head and shrugs before turning to face you.

"Kinda funny she's accusing me of being second best when she was never first in the first place."

"Okay, Jung 2."

"She's like— what'd you just call me?" He gives you a look. You cover your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing in his face. But, it's too late— Wooyoung starts attacking you with tickles, pulling you close to him as his hands come to your sides. You squeal and beg for him to stop, trying your hardest to pry him off without hurting him. "Wanna try that again, baby?"

"I'm sorry, I'm kidding!" You squeal louder when he tickles you a little harder. "I'm sorry! I'm kidding! You're my boyfriend, it shouldn't matter—" He stops with a little groan, hand still up your [his] shirt. 

"Fuck. You're so lucky you're cute." He sighs heavily. "I'm your, what?"

"Boyfriend." He smiles proudly.

"Damn, that's right." You giggle. "I love when you say it."

"Please don't attack me again."

"As long as you keep saying cute shit and not relaying any info from the devil incarnate herself, we're good." You laugh, continuing to look up at Wooyoung as he hovers over you from the side. "What?" He asks when you don't respond, completely enamored by him.

"Nothing." You subconsciously play with his hair and twirl the ends.

"Doesn't seem like nothing." You shake your head before gaining the courage to lean up and kiss him. He smiles into it, not letting you part for long before he dips forward again— this time, deepening the kiss, intensifying it in ways you've never felt before. Each kiss feels heated and desperate, and all you want is to be consumed entirely by Wooyoung. His tongue licks into your mouth, teasingly swiping across your bottom lip before he sucks on it and pulls back with a pop. You chase after him greedily, your tongue now fighting with his for dominance. He squeezes at your side, hand slowly traveling down to find the hem of your lace panties. His fingers play with the band before Wooyoung roams down and gently rubs at your clothed pussy. "Oh." He smirks a bit. "Did you wear this for me, princess?" He asks lowly, gently nipping at your jaw. You let out a soft whine, his hand rubbing a little harder against you.

"Mhm."

"So hot." He licks at the surface of your neck before sucking gently, fingers now slowly removing the material down your legs. "Gonna need to take it off though, if that's okay with you."

"Yes, please."

"Good girl." He chuckles, successfully slipping your panties off and tossing them onto the floor. He gives your thigh another squeeze before slowly swiping his fingers up and down your folds. "Everything about you is perfect."

"Wooyoung." You mewl, shifting in your position on the bed. He bites onto his bottom lip, thumb applying more pressure at your nub. You let out soft, breathy moans, back slightly arching off of the mattress. He slides in two digits, pumping them in and out of you at a slow pace to test the waters. He loves the way you automatically cock your legs open for him, giving him all the access he needs to feel you.

"So wet for me already, babygirl." He watches as your face contorts in pleasure. He begins to finger fuck you faster; relishing in the squelching noises, fingers dripping with your wetness. "Can I take care of you, hm? Do you want that?" He asks in a teasing manner, slowly moving his body downwards after removing his digits from inside of you.

You feel so empty.

"I do. Please." You beg. He leaves kisses down your stomach, your thighs. He presses a light kiss to your pussy before licking a stripe up and in between your folds. A loud whine leaves your lips just as he works his tongue on you, flicking at your heat before sucking onto it. 

"Gonna cum for me, pretty? Wanna see you cum on my mouth." He demands. He messily eats away, devouring every last drop of you as he spreads you open— lapping at your entrance, your clit. You don't even realize you've been slowly grinding your hips against his mouth, craving to relieve this tension, this ache, that you feel so badly within your core. Wooyoung goes between fingering you and tonguing your clit down until you feel the coil threatening to snap. 

"W-Wooyoung— oh god, yes—" You cry, suddenly tipping over the edge, legs trembling and feeling like jello. He keeps his head in between your thighs, continuing to suck away at your sensitive clit even when you try to close him out. You eventually come back down from cloud nine and steady yourself, Wooyoung's head slowly lifting from his current position.

"You okay?" He smiles. "Tasted so good. Can't get enough of you." He kisses your abdomen.

"More than okay." He chuckles, watching your chest rise and fall as you regulate your breathing. "Woo." You call his name in a daze post-orgasm.

"Mm?" He hums as he continues to press a trail of small kisses from your inner thighs, back up to your chest.

Neck.

Jaw. 

Corner of your lips.

"Can I try being on top?" He almost freezes because he sure as hell wasn't ready to hear that question. But, he's not complaining. Hell, he's hard as a fucking rock just hearing it replay in his head; in that delicate, soft tone of yours.

"Yeah, god—yeah. Please."

"I'm not that great, though. I didn't really get to experience different positions in my last relationship." 

"Don't say that, love. It's fine, and it doesn't matter."

"You're making me shy." You shyly giggle, climbing onto his lap once he settles. You sit back for a bit, stroking him through his boxers until they're joining your panties, his clothes, on the floor. You watch as his eyes roll back and shut close, small moans leaving his lips as you continue to pump him up and down. The more you keep up with a steady pace, the more Wooyoung feels like he'll explode when he's not entirely ready to be done with you just yet.

"Baby. Wait, wait—" He stops you. "Need you now. Don't wanna cum until I'm inside of you." You feel yourself clenching over nothing, but you still fear you won't be good; that you won't be good enough for him.

"I'm just afraid I won't be good for you."

"You'll always be more than enough." He reassures you with a kiss to the lips. "I'll help guide you if needed, okay?" He watches as you position yourself on him, lining him up at your entrance. He lets out a choked moan when he feels you slowly sink down on him, head cocking back in pleasure against the headboard. "Mm, fuuuck— god, you're so tight."

"Oh my god, Woo." You whimper, feeling completely full with Wooyoung's hard cock sat inside you.

"Take your time." He lets out breathily, hands gripping your hips. "You can move when you feel comfortable." You nod, hands resting on his shoulders. You begin to rock your hips back and forth;

Back and forth.

Tug and pull.

In and out.

"How does it feel?" 

"So fucking good, princess— oh—fuck— just like that." He moans brokenly, hissing in between when you start to work your hips more comfortably against him. "Can I?" He tugs on the end of your shirt, wasting no time to tear it off your body once you nod and give him the green light. "Holy shit." He says, marveling at the sight of your plump breasts in front of him. "Perfect for me." He mutters right before taking a nipple into your mouth; tongue working in circles before sucking on your perked bud. His thumb plays and pinches the other until he's ready to give it more attention, following the same movements. You let out a loud cry, hips moving faster in response to the way Wooyoung's lapping against you. "You like that, babygirl?" He watches you through hooded lids as you tilt your head back, the sounds of your wet pussy against him filling the room.

"Y-yes." You can barely respond. Wooyoung holds you close, hands tangled in his hair as his hands cascade up your sides, your back. You're pressed against him, his pelvis wet with your slickness; clit rubbing against him deliciously. 

"Doing so good for me, baby. You know how to ride me so well." He praises against your skin, leaving feathery kisses on your body. "You feel so good wrapped around me." He continues, lips now coming up to graze yours as you maintain eye contact— forehead pressed against Wooyoung's. Your hip movements become sloppier, more erratic; the both of you moaning into each other's mouths.

"Wooyoung. Think I'm gonna—" You whine. "I'm gonna cum again—" You continue to whine and whimper in between.

"Please cum. So I can— jesus christ." He pants, biting onto his bottom lip when he finds himself hanging on his last thread. After another couple of rolls against him, you feel yourself unraveling once again. You grip the ends of his hair tightly as you come undone on his cock, a huge wave of euphoria crashing through your body. "Shit, yeah. That's it, love. Cum all over me." Wooyoung eggs you on as you continue to deal with the aftershocks of your orgasm, body still twitching in his grip. He holds your hips tightly, taking his turn to fuck up into you harshly despite your sensitivity. "Agh— baby—" He chokes out. "Baby." He breathes out against your neck. "Cumming—hmfuck—" He groans. 

"Give it to me, Woo. Please." You feel his release; white ribbons shooting into you, cock twitching against your walls. His hands dig deep into your hips until he releases every last bit inside of you, panting and breathing heavily to bring himself back down from his high.

"God." He says, lazily kissing your chest. Collarbone. Neck. "Fucking amazing."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Too good. I'm beat. Rode the hell out of me." You laugh and playfully bite his shoulder. You press another kiss to his lips, holding it for just a second longer before you remove yourself from on top and plop next to him. He grabs a few napkins from the nightstand, wiping you down before working on himself. You snuggle back under the sheets, having no energy to worry about your shirt or panties. Wooyoung welcomes you right into his arms, his body heat keeping you warm as he presses himself against you.

You fit so perfectly.

Your head is pressed against his chest, his heartbeat humming against your ear— soothing you in the now stillness of his room. The exhaustion hits you fast, eyes feeling heavy the more you relax in his hold. Wooyoung lies awake, even though he truly is tired after tonight. But, he wouldn't have it any other way. He smiles to himself thinking about how perfectly this entire day played out;

How lucky he is to have you.

And even though he's terrified at what your response would be if he were to tell you how deeply he feels, he knows [either way] there's no going back because he's locked into this. He knows this is where he wants to be, and he knows this is where he'll stay.

Right here with you.

"Y/N?" He calls for your name softly. You don't respond at first because it's the moment you do fall asleep for a quick minute, soft snores leaving you as you rest against him. He looks down and chuckles, pulling you closer to him as if there was any other possible way to get you closer. "Sweet dreams, baby." He whispers against your temple before coming down to your ear. "I love you." Wooyoung is completely okay letting it out even though he isn't expecting a response. He's said it out loud, he's put it out into the universe. He feels relief, and it makes it even realer for Wooyoung when he realizes he doesn't wanna stop saying it. Because he does, he loves you. He probably has for a long time. 

His special girl.

Biggest thing in his itty bitty world.

You do hear it, though. You do. And with how much you adore Wooyoung, you obviously can't help yourself when you respond sleepily with a:

"I love you too, Woo."

—TAGLIST: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @heyitsmetonid @ldysmfrst @intaksfav @wooyoungsbrat @hyukssunflower @yunhoswrldddd @gotthicbish @thespiffynerd @jaytheatiny @yoonrixx @aurorajoye @i-love-ateez @starrywoo @bitejoongie @thedistractedwriter @dalsuwaha @huachengsbestie01 @e3ellie @yusalterego

[kawacake]

YOURE A BRAT | Bachira SMAU

💚 WHERE Bachira and Y/n broke up in high school, now they’re back on the same campus. He wants to protect his peace she wants to protect her pride but some love stories don’t end, they just hit pause.

main masterlist

status: on hold

taglist: OPEN (comment to be added)

warning(s): toxic exes & emotionally messy rekindled romance, mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms (partying, avoidance, impulsivity), swearing / explicit language, Alcohol consumption / college party culture, angst + jealousy + emotional breakdowns, slight manipulation / gaslighting (from side characters), passive-aggressive social media posts / subtweeting, implied sexual content, emotional whiplash + attachment issues

a/n: each chapter will be named after a Charli xcx song but that doesn’t exactly mean you have to listen to the song while reading

Playlist: coming soon…

Introduction: Y/n’s Angels (and Rin) , #notclickbait

Chapter Guide

1. So far away

2. Rewind

3. Take my hand

4. Track 10

coming soon…

moodboard

“You’re a Brat” is the self-sabotage to soulmate pipeline, but in a body glitter and platform heels. It’s “I don’t do relationships” x “But I’d still walk through fire for you” energy.

y/n is the type to flirt with you at a party, post about someone else the next day, and pretend she doesn’t see the look in your eyes. Bachira is the type to fall anyway, to sit front row for the chaos she brings, and smile like it’s a privilege to watch her burn.

She’s glitter in the dark, he’s late-night voice notes, half-finished poems, and the boy who still believes in her even when she doesn’t believe in herself.

“She’s gonna ruin you.” “I hope so.”

He’s “you deserve soft love” and she’s “I don’t believe in happy endings.” She leaves parties with mascara-stained cheeks and Tito’s in her veins. He waits outside in the cold, every single time. Big “you’ll never love me like I want” x “I already do” energy. A slow-burn tragedy & a love story told through subtweets, missed calls, and the one boy she never meant to love again.

“Only threw this party for you I only threw this party for you, for you, for you I'm about to party on you Watch me, watch me party on you, yeah Party on you, party on you Party on-party on you, party on you Party on-party on you, party on you” Party 4 you by Carli xcx

“You're in love with somethin' bigger than love You believe in something stronger than trust Wanderlust Wanderlust” Wanderlust by The Weeknd

“I fell in love today There aren't many words that you can say That could ever get my mind to change She's enough for me, she's in love with me You're a doll, you are flawless But I just can't wait for love to destroy us I just can't wait for love” Flawless by The Neighborhood

“And for you I keep my legs apart And forget about my tainted heart And I will never ever be the first to say it But still I, you know I-I-I I would do it, push a button Pull the trigger, pull a mountain, jump off a cliff 'Cause you know, baby, I love you, love you a little bit You would do it, you would say it You would mean it, and we could do it It was you and I” Little bit by Lykke Li

© kawacake — please do not steal, plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works, and do not put it on any other platform without my permission.

[claudaze]

⌗ 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄

쟈니 johnny suh x reader ⋮ you didn’t come to the club looking for anything — not a hook-up, not a thrill, not even attention. you just wanted the noise to drown out your thoughts and maybe lose yourself in a drink or two. but it only takes a glance from across the room to shift everything. behind the dj booth, under a wash of strobe lights and sound, he notices you — and then he doesn’t look away. what starts as stolen glances and fleeting smirks grows into something thicker, heavier. a slow, magnetic pull between strangers that leaves no room for pretending. and neither of you want to.

→ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 ━━━ mdni — mildly explicit content, alcohol consumption, strong club atmosphere, grinding, heavy kissing, neck kissing, mutual consent, profanity

it’s loud. obviously.

not just the music, though that’s pounding hard enough to shake the floor — it’s everything else. the heat, the crowd, the blur of conversations and laughter rising just above the bassline. your heels click against the sticky floor as you move past groups clumped together with drinks in hand, perfume and sweat clinging to the air.

it’s not your usual scene, and maybe that’s why you’re here. something different. something that lets your brain shut off for a while.

you slide up to the bar and order a drink without thinking, letting the cold glass settle into your palm. your eyes wander. lazily at first. no pressure. no real expectations. but then they find the booth.

he’s there — tall, dark, and unapologetically present behind the glow of the DJ lights. black headphones hugged around his neck, a few strands of hair falling over his forehead, half-lidded eyes scanning the room with a kind of casual confidence that says he knows exactly what he’s doing.

he sees you.

and instead of looking away — like most people do when they’re caught staring — he holds your gaze. just for a second too long.

it’s deliberate.

there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth. not a full smile, not yet. but something like amusement. curiosity. maybe even interest.

you take a sip of your drink, trying not to show too much. but your body betrays you, leaning just slightly against the counter. the invisible string is already there, pulling you forward.

he doesn’t do anything dramatic. no gestures, no come-hither signs. he just keeps looking. checking in. eyes flicking toward you every few minutes like a song on repeat. you start swaying a little with the music, maybe subconsciously giving him more to look at. it works.

when he drops a beat that has half the club screaming, he finally smiles. this time, fully. not at the crowd — at you.

you smile back.

he shifts a bit, hands dancing over the mixer, still performing, still working the set, but the energy’s different now. or maybe it’s just you who’s changed.

because you know he’s playing for you.

and you’re staying for him.

it doesn’t happen fast, but it doesn’t drag either. it builds — like a good mix. something layered and teasing. he doesn’t approach you during the set, but he doesn’t stop looking either. not even when another girl leans into the booth to shout something in his ear. his reaction is polite, short. and then he’s scanning the room again. finding you.

after a while, you stop pretending to play it cool. your second drink is almost gone, your body’s warm from the alcohol and the crowd and the way his gaze settles like pressure against your skin.

he gestures.

small. subtle. a lift of his chin.

come closer.

and so you do.

now you’re near the booth. not right up front, but enough that the music wraps around you like a second skin. he’s watching you again. and you’re watching him.

it’s too loud to talk, but it doesn’t matter. the conversation’s happening anyway — in the way your eyes catch, the way your hips move, the way he bites the inside of his cheek when you let your hands trail down the sides of your dress.

when he leans into the mic to shout out the next track, his voice rumbles deep and smooth over the sound system. it hits differently this close. like it’s meant just for you.

someone brushes past your back, and instinctively, he reaches forward to steady you. big hand at your waist. quick touch. barely there.

but enough to spark heat under your skin.

it happens between songs.

he slips out from the booth, letting a pre-mixed set carry the crowd for a bit. and suddenly he’s in front of you — taller than you expected, wearing that same half-smile like he knows what kind of effect he’s having.

“you’ve been staring,” he says, leaning in so only you can hear.

“so have you,” you shoot back.

he grins, sharp and lazy. “fair.”

there’s a pause. not awkward. just charged.

“you’re not dancing,” he adds.

“maybe i was waiting for a reason to.”

he offers his hand.

you take it.

it’s not gentle. not sweet.

the dancing starts close and only gets closer. your back to his chest, his arm draped low around your waist. your bodies moving like you’ve done this before, like it’s natural — like your rhythm belongs to the same beat.

his lips brush your ear. not speaking, just… there. heavy breathing. the occasional sound of him laughing softly when your hips roll back against his.

he smells like cologne and sweat and something expensive. his hands don’t wander too far — just enough to tease. fingers tracing the curve of your waist, dipping just under the hem of your top, dragging slowly.

“you okay?” he murmurs against your skin.

“yeah,” you breathe.

the kind of yeah that means don’t stop.

he doesn’t.

you dance through another song, maybe two. lost in the rhythm, in him. there’s nothing rushed about it, but everything is intentional. when he shifts his hips, you follow. when you tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck, he leans in like it’s instinct.

his lips finally touch your skin. light. teasing. just under your ear.

a shiver runs down your spine.

your hand finds his — resting low on your waist — and you guide it a little lower. not too much. just enough to tell him you’re in this.

“you’re trouble,” he says against your neck.

“you look like you like trouble.”

he laughs, a low sound, and kisses you again. this time, a little deeper. slower.

the music is still loud, but it feels distant now. like the only thing that matters is this — his mouth on your skin, your hips against his, your fingers curling into his shirt.

and then he turns you around.

face to face.

he looks at you like he’s been holding back all night.

you don’t say anything. you just lean in and kiss him.

it’s not soft.

it’s hot, heavy, all teeth and tongue at first. his hands hold your face, then drop to your hips, then pull you even closer like there’s still space between you to close.

you melt into it — into him — tasting the night on his lips, the slight tang of sweat and something sweet.

his hands slide lower again, gripping the backs of your thighs just briefly. not groping. just enough to let you feel the intent behind it.

he pulls back, forehead against yours.

“you wanna get out of here?”

you nod.

“i’ll finish this set. wait for me?”

“i’m not going anywhere.”

he grins, presses one last kiss to your jaw, and slips back into the booth.

you head back to the bar, heart still pounding, skin still tingling, lips still swollen from his.

waiting.

but not for long.

he doesn’t make you wait long. ten minutes, maybe. just enough for your thoughts to catch up to your body — for your lips to remember how he tasted, for your skin to buzz in the places he touched.

and then he’s back. headphones off. black tee a little damp. a lazy grin that deepens when he sees you’re still there. “ready?” no hesitation.

“yeah.” he doesn’t hold your hand on the way out, but he keeps close. guides you through the crowd with a touch at your back, his body shielding yours from the rowdier drunks still clinging to the beat.

the outside air is sharp against your skin, and you exhale like you’ve been holding your breath all night. “you drove?” you ask. he shakes his head.

“nah. walked. i live a few blocks away.” you nod, following him. the tension doesn’t loosen — it stretches. tighter. quieter now without the bass, but just as heavy. his place is close, like he said. high-rise, modern lobby, dim hallway lights that flicker a little too slowly.

the second the door clicks shut behind you, he exhales. “fuck,” he mutters under his breath, and suddenly you’re back in it. his mouth is on yours before either of you can think twice. this kiss is different — hungrier.

his hands find your waist and pull you into him like he needs it. like he’s been thinking about this all night. “you’ve been driving me crazy,” he says between kisses. “good.” you’re walking backwards without realizing it until your back hits the hallway wall.

his hands trap you there, one braced beside your head, the other dragging slowly from your waist to your hip. he kisses down your neck, teeth grazing just slightly, and your breath catches.

“you sure?” he asks, voice low, fingers curling against your skin. “yeah.” your voice comes out breathless, but steady.

“are you?” his laugh is a hot breath against your collarbone. “so fucking sure.” it’s not rushed. it’s slow. purposeful. teasing, even now. he leads you to the couch first, sits back and pulls you with him so you’re straddling his lap. his hands stay respectful — mostly.

one at your lower back, the other tracing shapes against your thigh. you grind into him slowly, hips rolling the same way they did in the club, and he groans low in his throat. “you don’t even know what you’re doing to me,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded as he watches you.

“i have a guess.” he leans up and kisses you again — slower now. deeper. tongues sliding, lips parting, breath mixing. his hands grip tighter, and yours start wandering, fingers brushing up under the edge of his shirt.

he lets you tug it off, and you take your time, hands smoothing over warm skin and firm muscle. you press a kiss to the corner of his jaw, then just under his ear, and he exhales sharp, hands flexing against your hips.

you feel the tension radiating from him, restrained but real. his self-control is impressive — he’s still letting you lead. but when you roll your hips again, feeling the hard press of him beneath you, his grip finally tightens.

“bed?” you ask.

he just nods.

it’s messier from there — breathless kisses, clothes in a trail, skin against skin. everything is wrapped in warmth and want.

his hands explore slowly, checking in with every touch, every shift. you’re not shy about what you want, and he meets you halfway every time.

he doesn’t rush. not even when you’re pulling him down with you, tangled in sheets that smell like clean cotton and his cologne.

his fingers trace between your thighs, teasing until your breath hitches, then slipping lower — slow, steady, gentle.

your name slips from his lips like a whisper, and his from yours like a gasp.

his mouth replaces his hand. warm, deliberate, so good it makes your hips stutter. he doesn’t stop until you’re trembling, breathless, thighs twitching around his head.

and when he finally pulls back, it’s only to press a soft kiss to your inner thigh and whisper, “one more?”

you nod, dizzy with it.

he covers you like a blanket — warm, strong, and real — and finally slides into you with a breathless groan.

it’s not rough. it’s deep. intense. the kind of pace that says he wants to feel every second of it.

his mouth is everywhere — your shoulder, your neck, the hollow just below your ear. you meet him beat for beat, gasping into his shoulder, clutching his arms, pulling him closer like you could somehow get more.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, and it sends a new wave of heat through you.

everything builds and builds, until finally — with lips pressed to each other’s skin and fingers gripping tight — it all crests. he groans your name like a reward. you hold onto him like an anchor.

when it’s over, he doesn’t pull away.

instead, he shifts so you’re lying on his chest, arms draped lazily around your waist, skin still damp, hearts still thudding like a fading bassline. his hand finds the curve of your back, slow and steady, like he’s not ready for it to end. you’re not either.

your fingers trace idle patterns across his collarbone — loops, spirals, a lazy heart or two — and he doesn’t stop you. he just breathes. deep, content.

“still think i’m trouble?” you mumble against his skin, voice half-lost in the crook of his neck.

he huffs a laugh, chest rising under you. “undoubtedly.”

you grin, pressing a small kiss just above his heart. “good.”

“you’re way too proud of that,” he mutters, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“you literally moaned my name like a man possessed,” you say, grinning wider. “so technically, you’re the one who likes the trouble.”

he groans dramatically. “don’t remind me. i’ll get hard again.”

“not my fault you’re weak.”

“weak?” he shifts under you like he’s offended — even though his arm is still very much holding you in place. “you were begging.”

you gasp. “i was not—”

“you said please.”

“once.”

“twice,” he corrects smugly. “don’t make me reenact it.”

“you’re impossible.”

he hums. “but good at my job.”

“mm,” you say, lips curving against his skin. “i’ll allow it.”

he tilts his head, just enough to nuzzle his nose into your hair. “you staying the night?”

you nod. “i think you earned that.”

“hell yeah,” he whispers like he just scored a win. “best gig i’ve ever played.”

you laugh quietly and settle further into his chest, letting your eyes close as his hand starts drifting slowly — soothingly — down your spine.

“do you offer loyalty programs?” you mumble. “repeat visits, discounted rides…”

he kisses your temple. “for you? backstage pass and all-access included.”

a few minutes pass like that — soft, slow, golden. he doesn’t reach for his phone. doesn’t shift away. when you start to move, he tugs you back with a lazy grunt.

“hold on,” he says. “not done being clingy.”

“you?” you tease. “clingy?”

“only with people who wreck me in the best way.”

you laugh, and he reaches over you for a water bottle on the nightstand. “hydrate,” he insists, tapping it lightly to your lips.

you drink, and so does he. when you move to get up again, he stops you with a hand on your hip and a warning noise in his throat.

“i mean it. stay.”

“i’m just going to the bathroom—”

“nope. hostage now.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

“and soft,” he adds, guiding your legs gently between his as he grabs a towel from somewhere near the bed and starts cleaning you up with surprising care — and almost infuriating tenderness.

you blink at him. “when did you get that?”

“while you were recovering. multitasking king.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. his touch is delicate — warm cloth against your thighs, soft apologies when he catches a sensitive spot. once he’s done, he tosses the towel aside and drapes the blanket over both of you again, like it’s instinct.

and then he’s wrapping himself around you from behind, arm slung low over your waist, face tucked into the back of your neck.

you lie there in the quiet for a beat. then two.

his breath is steady. his hand finds yours.

you think, maybe absurdly, that you could get used to this.

your thoughts drift.

you didn’t expect this. didn’t expect him to be funny, or soft, or to care enough to tuck you in and force water on you and kiss your shoulder like it’s sacred.

you expected a one-night thing. something hot. quick. over.

but now your heart’s doing that thing — the fluttery thing — and you don’t know if it’s the post-sex glow or something worse.

something real.

you should probably run from that feeling.

but instead, you sink into it. into him. you don’t know what this is, not yet. but you know what it’s not. it’s not empty. it’s not cold. and it’s definitely not over.

not when his fingers are laced with yours, not when he murmurs your name half-asleep like he’s memorizing it, not when your pulse is still humming to the rhythm of his.

you close your eyes, but your brain won’t shut up. how is he like this?how can a dj — a literal club dj — be this soft? this gentle? this… intentional?

he’s supposed to be cocky. aloof. maybe a little reckless. not the kind of guy who brushes your hair off your forehead like it’s a reflex. not the kind who kisses your temple like he means it. not the kind who makes sure you drink water between rounds like he’s scared you’ll dissolve into the sheets.

he’s supposed to play his set, pull someone hot, disappear before morning. he’s not supposed to whisper “you okay?” against your skin. he’s definitely not supposed to make sure you finish first. twice.

and he’s absolutely, absolutely not supposed to wrap himself around you like you matter.

but he did all of that.

and now your brain is spinning with the kind of shit you promised yourself you wouldn’t catch feelings over.

what’s his real name?

does he always kiss like that?

has he ever held someone this long after?

will he text you tomorrow?

will you be disappointed if he doesn’t?

you hate that you care. you really hate that it felt that good.

you don’t want to be that girl — the one who lets one night turn into a daydream — but right now, in this quiet, cocooned space of heat and cotton and his damn heartbeat under your ear, you don’t want to move.

you sigh softly, just enough that your breath stirs the skin on his chest, and let your fingers tangle with his again. his hand twitches but doesn’t let go.

his breathing is slow. steady. completely at peace. like he does this all the time. but your gut says he doesn’t. maybe this was new for him, too. maybe you're not the only one who's a little undone by it.

when sleep finally takes you, it’s slow and warm and deep — like the beat of a song fading out.

morning comes quietly.

not with sunlight — the blackout curtains take care of that — but with the slow shift of limbs, the soft stretch of muscles against tangled sheets, and the drowsy press of skin against skin.

he’s still holding you.

one arm snug around your waist, legs tangled with yours, like neither of you moved an inch during the night. his face is tucked against your shoulder now, lips barely parted, warm breath ghosting over your skin. you stay still. barely breathing. just… watching him.

he’s unfairly attractive like this — hair a mess, cheeks flushed from sleep, lips still kiss-swollen. there's a softness to him that makes you ache a little. worse than that? he looks safe. whatever the hell that means.

you don’t want to move. not yet. not while this is still yours. so you stay — heart a little stupid, head still spinning — and let yourself pretend it’s not complicated.

when his eyes finally flutter open, bleary and heavy-lidded, he blinks up at you like he’s surprised for half a second.

then he smiles. soft and slow and entirely unbothered. like he expected you to still be here. and somehow, that’s the part that really gets you.

his voice is a rasp when he finally speaks.

“morning, trouble.”

you roll your eyes — mostly to hide the way your chest flutters at the sound of it. “is that my name now?”

he grins against your shoulder. “until you give me a better one.”

you snort, shifting a little so you’re facing him. “you don’t even know my actual name.”

he lifts a brow. “you didn’t know mine either. but you still let me—”

“okay,” you cut him off, laughing. “let’s not unpack all that right now.”

“fair,” he says, stretching like a cat. the sheet slips down to his hips, and you hate how your brain short-circuits a little. unreal.

you sit up slowly, blanket clutched to your chest. “you always this charming in the morning?”

he watches you, eyes still hazy with sleep but sharp enough to be dangerous. “you always this cute when you steal my bed?”

“your bed was offered, thank you very much.”

he hums, then adds, “might need to offer you my hoodie too. it’s the natural next step.”

you glance over at the hoodie hanging off the chair, and your mouth twitches. “you trying to domesticate me already?”

“depends,” he says. “would it work?”

you stare at him for a beat, then toss a pillow at his face. he catches it mid-air, smirking like the cocky menace he is.

you groan and flop back into the pillows, hiding your grin. “i hate how good you are at this.”

“what, flirting?”

“yes.”

“i’m a dj,” he shrugs. “it’s in the job description.”

you roll over to face him again. “how the hell are you both the guy who makes the club shake and the guy who tucks me in after?”

he pauses, eyes locked on yours. “what if i’m just the guy who really likes the way you looked at me last night?”

your heart trips.

it’s annoying.

but god, it’s also good.

you swallow the smile tugging at your lips and change the subject before you start planning your wedding.

“you have coffee?”

he sits up, stretches again, then climbs out of bed with an obnoxiously attractive yawn. “only the good kind.”

you watch — unashamed — as he pads across the room in just his briefs, grabbing the hoodie and tugging it on without bothering to zip it. you hate how good he looks like that. tall, sleepy, rumpled. like some sort of boyfriend dream you’re not ready to claim out loud.

he pauses at the door, glancing back. “you want it in bed, or are you gonna risk the kitchen in last night’s dress?”

you groan dramatically. “do not threaten me with a walk of shame.”

“nah,” he says with a wink. “wouldn’t be shame. more like a strut of pride.”

you throw another pillow.

he dodges, laughing, and disappears down the hall.

you sink back into the sheets, blinking up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell just happened — and why your chest feels so full.

this wasn’t supposed to be anything. just a night. a spark. a beat drop. but now he’s in the kitchen, making you coffee like he’s done it a hundred times, like this is normal, like you’re normal here.

you close your eyes and exhale slowly, lips twitching.

you’re in trouble.

again.

[water-loos]

BALLAD OF A HOMESCHOOLED GIRL !

“It’s social suicide!”

ex situationship!steve harrington x fem!reader

masterlist ; series masterlist ; previous chapter ; next chapter

cw: college au, strong language, arguing, mentions of alcohol consumption, lotttts of cigarettes are smoked in this chapter it’s a very stressful chapter

wc: 5k

a/n: we are…. so back?

You were convinced that you could finally, confidently, and surely say that you hated Steve Harrington just as much as you hated Halloween.

Not because he had gotten a girlfriend, not because he rubbed it in, and definitely not because you knew that he knew that he had successfully made you jealous.

But solely because he embarrassed you so badly at that party and in front of Matthew that you had successfully lost every single ounce of game you’d ever have. You could barely talk to a guy at a party without saying something slightly off-kilter that killed the energy, you apparently became a little too unsteady when you kissed someone, and you had even started to feel so anxious at any pregame that sometimes you couldn’t make it out of the house. Steve and Jade had eventually started to come back around and go to parties with your friends, as expected, and it was like nothing happened. Except now, either Eddie, Sean, or Jared were always by your side, both at your apartment before the parties, and at the parties.

Weeks after that fateful night, however, you found yourself fussing with your hair and makeup in the mirror, trying to nail your costume of the night regardless of how much you were dreading going out. Alex had found some random house party through a friend of a friend, and while she and Robin were dressing in matching ladybug and bee costumes, you were dressing in a rendition of Scooby Doo’s Velma, which consisted of an impossibly tiny red mini-skirt, a bright orange high-necked cropped tank top that was so tight that your ribs kind of hurt, and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses with no lenses. You and Eddie had originally planned to match with Sean, Jared, and your other friend Nancy, who would be dressed as Shaggy, Fred, and Daphne respectively, but Sean and Jared thought that dressing up like Wayne and Garth from Wayne’s World would be funnier. Nancy had quickly also dropped out in favor of some other matching costume with her boyfriend.

So, Steve had asked Eddie to join the costume with Jade, and despite your angry comments and pleading, Eddie had agreed. Steve would dress as Fred, Jade as Daphne, you as Velma, and Eddie as Scooby, because “if he was Shaggy, you’d look like a couple and neither of you would have any real fun”.

You didn’t feel like the night would be any fun when you had put on the last swipe of lipgloss across your lips and opened your door to join the rest of your friends in the living room, where they had been getting ready for the last hour.

“You can’t just change your costume, Steve! We agreed, I bought you the stupid orange bandana, and we thought up all of these cute pictures to take!” Jade complained from near where your couch was, causing you to stop in your tracks on your threshold. You knew you should close the door and give them their privacy. Still, you didn’t move. “It’s literally not even a bad outfit. It’s a button-up and jeans.”

“Babe, it makes me look so weird, and it isn’t my vibe,” He replied, and you could practically hear him roll his eyes. “It makes me look like some dude in a shitty frat or something. I’d much rather wear a t-shirt and pants that I actually like than a pair of jeans that are the color of easter candy.”

Your jaw dropped as you heard the way he was talking to Jade.

“That’s literally his character! The whole point is that he’s kind of clueless, just like a frat dude!”

You turned back toward your bed and snapped to Eddie, who was lounging on your bed, staring at the ceiling and adjusting his dog ears over and over again. He heard you and quickly got up to eavesdrop with you, an eyebrow raised as you both listened.

“Are you calling me clueless right now? Seriously?”

“Yes! God forbid I want you to wear the matching costume to my costume that we planned two and a half weeks ago, Steve!” Jade exclaimed before letting out some sort of exasperated noise. “We have literally everyone else. Just be Fred. It makes more sense.”

“Jade, in case you forgot, you—“

You clapped a hand over your mouth and shut your door as quietly as you could before turning to Eddie, whose mouth was open so wide his chin was practically hitting the ground.

“Please tell me I’m hallucinating. Please, God, tell me that she did not just say he’s changing his costume,” You groaned, gripping the bridge of your nose. “He better not. I’ll flip my shit. Seriously.”

“I’m going to piss my pants if he did. Seriously. She’s going to kill both of you!” Eddie cackled, ushering you out of the way before exiting your room, the Halloween-themed music that had been playing underneath their argument suddenly louder and their voices no longer raised.

You waited with bated breath for Eddie to make any sort of reaction and quickly put on your shoes in the meantime, but after a short moment, he called for you to come into the living room. You sighed and adjusted your skirt before walking out into the living room, your face the picture of horrified the second you saw Eddie and Steve, looking like the perfect pair in their costumes— Eddie dressed as Scooby, as planned, and Steve, with messy hair, a green shirt, and brown pants that were just baggy enough that they showed just a slip of his torso beneath the edge of his slightly cropped t-shirt.

He was dressed as Shaggy.

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” You said slowly, voice unsettlingly low. “No. You need to change.”

“You too? I thought you weren’t speaking to me,” He huffed. “This is my costume. I’m not changing.”

“Steve, I’m serious. We specifically didn’t have a Shaggy for a reason, change,” You sucked in a breath, trying to contain your anger and fear that Jade, his girlfriend, who had recently revealed to you that she enjoyed practicing Wicca and other “witchy” practices to get more in touch with her spirituality, would see the two of you standing together in a fucking couples costume. “Please. Just dress up as Fred.”

“If it bothers you so much, why don’t you change, huh? I know you’ve gotta have some blue skirt and white shirt combination that’ll fit the character,” He snorted, picking up the orange piece of fabric that Jade had mentioned and tossing it toward you. “I’ll even lend you the necktie, sweetheart.”

You were seething. His voice was like a million tiny knives, arrogance dripping from every word. You wanted to slap him in the face.

“Steve, I swear to god, I will strangle you with this stupid fucking—“

“Oh my gosh! The Scooby ears look great!” Jade suddenly bounded back in through the front door, bubbly as ever, just as you had lobbed the orange tie back toward Steve. It hit him in the chest and fluttered toward the floor as you turned on your heel and headed for the kitchen, where the liquor everyone had slowly been picking at lay.

You poured yourself a shot of whatever was closest to you, downed it, grabbed the handle, and turned back down the hallway before opening Alexandra’s door, where she, Robin, Sean, and Jared helped each other with their costumes.

“Hurry up guys,” You held out the bottle and mustered up your most believable smile, which made everyone smile back at you. “We gotta get this party started!”

———————

At every party you had attended since the house party where you had yelled at Steve, you had realized very quickly that it was really, really hard to get laid when you had a tall and burly guy acting as your shadow.

You could feel it now, as you were standing on the deck of yet another dingy brownstone on the north side, decked out in your Velma costume. The mesh orange thigh highs you wore did little to help stave off the chill, and your feet ached in the black platform Mary Jane’s you had been wearing all night. Eddie stood right beside you and mingled with a really attractive red-headed guy, leaning into your side as he joked with the man. He was still dressed as Scooby himself but had completed the look with a choker necklace with the “SD” logo on it.

Both of you had been talking to the redhead for at least thirty minutes before he had offered to grab you both more drinks and departed. The second he was out of earshot, you turned to Eddie with a bit of a glare in your eyes.

“Dude, I know you don’t mean it, but you are such a cockblock,” You huffed, taking the cigarette that the boy was handing you as you scolded him. “I’ve been trying to flirt with him and you keep bringing the conversation back to Star Wars. What gives?”

Eddie looked at you like you had ten heads after he lit the cigarette. He jutted his head forward toward you and looked at you for a long moment.

Then, he burst out laughing.

“What? What’s so funny?” You reeled back, cheeks heating up. “I’m serious!”

“Babe, you have to be kidding,” He said through laughter, one arm landing on his stomach. “That boy is gay. Like, gayer than me, gay.”

You groaned and facepalmed with your free hand, the cigarette dangling from your other hand. “You’re joking.”

“Deathly serious.”

“Is my type, just, gay men? Seriously?” You whine, taking a drag before handing it back to him. “That’s genuinely the third gay guy I’ve tried to flirt with in the last month.”

“You’re gaining a bit of a track record, sweetheart,” Eddie tutted, swinging an arm over your shoulder. “I haven’t seen you lip-locked with anyone in weeks.”

“Ugh, I know,” You huffed, leaning into him. “I’ve, like, been in a slump since that stupid asshole—“

“You can say his name, you know.”

“I’d prefer not to. Anyway, since he pulled that bullshit at Nancy’s party I haven’t been able to do anything right,” You elbowed him gently in the ribs before continuing on your tangent. “He definitely put a curse on me.”

“Isn’t Jade the one who is into all the witchy stuff, though?”

“She’s normally really nice though. He probably stole a book or something and cursed me,” You rubbed your hands over your face. “I’m so sick of him. He’s always fucking around, he’s always lurking and staring and I’m sick of it! I don’t know how she deals with him. Seriously.”

“Did you not deal with him for, like, two months?” Eddie snorted.

You regretted telling him the full details of your and Steve’s history every day. Especially right now.

“Emphasis on two months. Not to mention that he didn’t start being an asshole until I decided to stop seeing him if he wasn’t going to get serious,” You rolled your eyes. “And now he has it out for me. Which is rich considering—“

You saw Jade rushing up the stairs of the deck in her adorable Daphne costume, white boots pounding against the wood. She beelined straight for you and Eddie, and you were sure that your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

Once she made it closer, you could tell she was distraught and almost in tears, and you could see a lurking figure following her path up the stairs.

“Can you guys go back home with me? Everyone’s drunk or apparently deciding to be really mean right now,” She sniffled, looking between the two of you, but her eyes lingered on Eddie a little longer, just enough to make your stomach twist. “Please?”

“Sure. This party’s lame anyway,” You ducked out of Eddie’s embrace and poked his arm. “If you want to stay and keep talking to Star Wars guy, I can get us a taxi back.”

“I’ll catch up with you guys out front. I’m not feeling it anymore,” He shrugged and made a motion toward the stairs, where Steve was walking up, a beer in his hand. “Just need a minute.”

“Gotcha. We’ll wait for you, Eds,” You nodded and reached out a hand for Jade, who reluctantly took it and began walking with you. You purposefully put yourself on the side you knew would be closest to Steve as you passed him, and kept Jade close to your side as she wiped at her face over and over again.

As you passed him, you made it a point to bump shoulders with the boy, hard. He stopped and reeled back, his beer spilling all over his green t-shirt and the girl next to him. You winced as she got covered, but continued down the stairs and around the side of the house. It was desolate out front, the porch and stairs empty as the party raged on inside.

You led Jade over to the steps and urged her to sit down on them. You sat beside her but left a respectable amount of room between the two of you as she put her head into her hands. She was full-on crying now, her thick black eyeliner beginning to run underneath her eyes.

“Here,” You reached to the side of your skirt and pulled a red handkerchief out of your waistband— one that Robin had insisted was very “Velma”— and handed it to her.

She didn’t thank you, just used the cloth to blow her nose. Your spine stiffened slightly, but you didn’t sit up straight as a result. Neither of you said anything as you waited for Eddie, both sitting on the steps in your almost identical boots and matching costumes.

The sound of music and voices seeping through the windows felt suffocating at that moment.

You reached back into the other side of your skirt and produced a more decorated version of Eddie’s cigarette case, the 3D gem stickers you had spent a considerable amount of time sticking meticulously around it rubbing against your skin. You popped it open and took out one of your last three cigarettes, placing it between your lips. You reached for the last match that rattled around the case next, striking it against the railing and using it to light the cigarette.

You saw Jade’s head lift in your peripheral but continued to take your first drag, making sure to blow it away from her and up, so none of the smoke would get anywhere near her.

It stayed quiet as you smoked and she sniffled, and you were halfway done with the cigarette before she broke the silence.

“You’re too pretty to be doing that,” Her voice was watery, but firm.

You took the cigarette from your lips and held it in your hand away from her before turning toward her. You tried your best to keep your expression neutral, but your eyebrows still furrowed. “I’m sorry?”

“Smoking,” She sniffled again and cleared her throat. “It’s an ugly habit.”

Your spine fully straightened as your mouth parted to say something, but instead, you turned away from her and popped the cigarette back into your mouth. You talked around the roll, your shoulders tense. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll take that into consideration.”

You stood from your seat suddenly and walked away from her, shoes clomping on the concrete as you made your way to the sidewalk. In one hand, you held your cigarette, and you pulled your phone from under your shirt and flicked it open with the other. You pressed the hotkey to call the taxi service you usually used.

You turned to face the alleyway and tapped your foot as you watched for Eddie, holding your phone to your ear. As you spoke to the operator and gave them the location information, the boy in question rounded the corner holding Steve by the arm, a stormy look on his face. You sighed and asked for a second taxi to the same location, and once it was confirmed, you snapped your phone closed loudly. You dropped your finished cigarette onto the ground and used your foot to grind it into the sidewalk as you watched Eddie sit Steve down on the steps beside Jade, where he all but slumped over, his head leaning against the railing.

Eddie met you on the sidewalk shortly after that.

“What happened with her?”

“You’re crazy if you think I actually asked,” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “She bitched about my smoking habit and I walked away before I got mean.”

“She what?” Eddie wheeled around, eyes wide. “You’re kidding. We smoke every time we go out!”

“She said that “it’s an ugly habit” and I’m “too pretty to be doing that”, which, thanks for calling me pretty, or whatever,” You rolled your eyes. “But way to make it backhanded. Like I asked for her opinion.”

“Yeah. Steve told me she flipped out because they were apparently dancing near the window and she caught him staring out the window instead of paying attention to her, and because she’s still pissed that he changed his costume,” He huffed, ruffling his hair for a moment before letting his arms drop to his side. “Which, fair on the staring part, but a little crazy on the costume thing. It’s literally just a costume.”

Your stomach lurched. You had noticed them near the window of the house, and you had noticed Steve staring out of the window multiple times while you had been talking to Star Wars Guy. You also knew that Jade really did not like that Steve was matching with you rather than her. “I hate Halloween. So much. Have I ever told you that?”

“I’m wounded, but I get it,” He shrugged. “D’you get two taxis?”

“Yep. Don’t know who’s going in which,” You sighed and turned to glance toward the street. You saw some headlights coming toward the house and shivered. “Depends on if they make up or not.”

“Because if not—“

“Yeah. Not too happy about that,” Your lips formed a line, knowing damn well that if the couple didn’t make up, Eddie and Jade lived in the same apartment complex, and Steve had recently moved a block away from yours. “But I’ll deal. Is he, like, getting-sick-drunk?”

“No. He’s acting like a kicked puppy because I yelled at him to get his shit together,” Eddie shook his head. “He’s fine. Let me ask what they’re thinking.”

You watched the dark-haired boy walk back toward the couple, and then you heard Jade immediately begin to protest at the top of her lungs, insisting that she would absolutely not be getting into a car with Steve, or with you. You saw Eddie’s shoulders sag as the crunch of tires on the pavement got closer and closer, and then two white and green checkered taxis pulled up right where you had been standing.

“Eddie, cabs are here,” You raised your voice to catch their attention. The couple stood from their seats and immediately separated, walking with an absurd amount of distance for them, as they were normally glued at the hip. Jade stalked toward the first cab, and Steve dragged his feet toward the second one, closest to you. He swayed slightly, but not enough to need help walking yet.

“I’ll call you tomorrow morning, okay?” Eddie called as he opened the back door of his taxi for Jade. “Text me when you get back to yours.”

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

Even though Eddie had said that Steve wasn’t drunk enough to get sick, you scanned the area for any litter around and found a stray plastic bag that was crumpled and stuck at the base of a tree, grabbed it, and opened the back door of your cab.

“Get in,” You turned to Steve, who was already looking at you. His eye contact made your skin suddenly warm, but you ignored it and made a motion for him to hop in. He obliged, silently, but not without a bit of a fumble to slide across the back bench.

Once he was in and had buckled his seatbelt, you got into the seat furthest from him much more gracefully than he had gotten in. You told the driver that you were heading to Steve’s address, and you were off.

You tossed the plastic bag in his direction but kept your eyes trained on your hands in your lap.

You could see him grab the bag and lift his head toward you, cocking his head so his hair flopped in his face. “Why’re you giving me this?”

You tried not to snort at his slightly slurring speech. “For shits and giggles.”

“M’ not gonna get sick. I never do,” He scoffed, but there wasn’t the normal weight he usually used around you behind it. “I’ve got a stomach of steel.”

“Well, I’m not paying for the cleaning fee if you do. I don’t have Daddy’s credit card to live off of,” You spared him a glance and said simply before crossing your arms and sitting back in your seat. “In case you conveniently forgot.”

He didn’t say anything, but you felt his gaze burning a hole in the side of your face.

“Y’look really pretty,” He said quietly but didn’t move. Your stomach churned with butterflies, your chest warming with a combination of anger and sadness. “In case no one told you tonight.”

“Stop talking, Steve,” You scoffed. “Just because you pissed off your girlfriend does not mean you can try talking me up when she’s not around.”

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore,” He huffed. “She broke up with me two weeks ago. She just wanted to come to get pictures to show her friends and to say she did a couple’s costume with me.”

You suddenly felt really, really satisfied that she was the one to dump him and practically use him for the night, but also really, really, sad for him.

“Oh,” You hummed.

“Yeah. That’s kinda why I changed,” He sighed, his head dipping. You still didn’t turn. “I didn’t think it was fair that she still got to have her pictures with me and my friends.”

“Didn’t that just make her more pissed off?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“And you still let her come and dress up with us?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

“That’s sad, Steve,” You tried not to scoff. “Like, really sad. Seriously.”

He went quiet for a second or two, his body turning so he could look out the window.

“Yeah. I know,” He sounded uncharacteristically soft, like Jade had actually hurt his feelings. It made you feel way too many things at once, and you even briefly considered grabbing the plastic bag from him as some sort of safety net for yourself.

“Doesn’t feel nice, does it?” You said before thinking, but didn’t let the embarrassment of your sudden jab wash over you. You knew deep down he deserved to hear it, even if the thought of your words finally hitting him where it hurt made you feel like a horrible, evil, person.

He looked back toward you, his eyes holding the same unrecognizable look that you hadn’t seen since you had last slept together. It made your chest squeeze. He shook his head.

It was silent in the taxi for the next ten minutes.

You realized that hearing about what Jade had done to Steve actually made you a lot less satisfied than you had initially thought. You thought back to how Steve had made you feel time and time again, and how he had hurt you, but then you thought about the good times that had been far and few between. When he had hung out with your friends in the beginning, when the two of you hadn’t told anyone that you were seeing each other. You thought about how he had always watched for you in the group, and how you had always caught him staring, how you could always find him in any room. How he defended you, Robin, and Alex at parties when guys got too close or their joking jabs got a little too mean. How he always asked to partner up on projects, how he always complimented you on how eloquent you were when you presented in class. How he always held you after you had sex, how he checked in constantly to make sure he was doing everything right for you, how he always slowed down when you asked, and listened to you like he wanted to.

Like he cared.

You thought about how Jade got all of that, every day, for months, and thought she was insane for throwing that all away just because all she had wanted in the first place was something to show for it. She wanted him as a trophy, not as a person. You thought she was fucking crazy for giving up all of Steve’s good parts for some stupid pictures to take home to her friends.

Thinking about Jade made you think about how you and Steve ended. He had never indicated that he didn’t want you, he just didn’t want to commit. He didn’t want to show you off just to say he had a girlfriend, he just didn’t want to change anything about the arrangement. Sure, he didn’t know too much about your personal life— well, you weren’t sure how much he truly knew about you. You didn’t really give him too long of a pause over his car to give you the right answers. But, he wasn’t nearly as mean as you had initially painted him to be. Maybe it was your anger, your sadness. But seeing him slumped over in the taxi, pouting out the window like he was in a music video, made you feel a little less angry at him now.

“Can I tell you something without you, like, strangling me?” He said about five minutes away from his house, finally lifting his head.

You dared to turn toward him, heart beating in overdrive. “Sure. No promises.”

“I’m sorry.”

Your heart stopped for a minute. You were sure of it. You just looked at him, eyes not leaving his.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I miss when you didn’t hate me," He said, like it wasn’t a crazily impactful sentence. “We used to be friends, which before you say anything, you know what I mean by that, and then we just … weren’t. And it’s my fault.”

“That was your choice, Steve. You could have just said you wanted to be friends instead of…” You trailed off, gulping for a moment and looking back to your lap. “Whatever we were.”

“Do you not miss being friends?”

“You know the answer to that question.”

“I’m sorry,” He said again, sighing. “But, why didn’t you say that you wanted to be friends?”

The taxi finally pulled up to Steve’s apartment complex, paid the driver with a wad of cash, and got out of the back seat, a strange feeling washing over you. You watched Steve clamber out and close the door behind him, the two-flat he now lived in looming behind the two of you.

“Because you knew from the night that you really met me that we could never just be friends. You’re going into education,” You said, no heat behind your words. “Don’t tell me that you’re suddenly too stupid to not realize that.”

He sighed and nudged a stray leaf with the toe of his Converse sneaker.

“That was a year ago today, you know,” He hummed, jamming his hands into his pockets. He raised his head toward you and rocked back and forth on his heels. “‘Cept this year, we’re matching.”

You looked at him, your face the picture of bored, because of course you knew that, and of course, you were alone with Steve Harrington for the second Halloween in a row, and he was making your stomach swim with butterflies. No matter how much you wanted to hate him, or how much you swore you were over him, he still had an effect on you.

But now, you were determined to keep him out of your heart entirely. You knew how to keep your emotions away from your face, how to act more confident, and how to keep your feelings buried deep inside.

“Not like I had a choice. You’re the one who wouldn’t change.”

“What if I told you that I also did it to piss you off?”

“I’d tell you that I should have strangled you with that stupid orange necktie when I had the chance.”

He laughed, a bright sound you hadn’t heard in what felt like forever. You still didn’t let a smile crack, though. You watched his face slowly drop as he realized you weren’t laughing with him.

“You have your keys, right?” You cocked your head at him, watching diligently as he patted around his pockets for the keys in question. He pulled them out and shook them in front of you, deeply confused. “Do you need help getting inside or are you sober enough to do that yourself?”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind the help—“

“Steve.”

“Alright, yeah. I’m okay to get in on my own,” He rocked on his heels again. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

“Steve.”

“Right. Okay. Cool,” He pushed out quickly, starting the trek toward his front door, walking slowly. You began your trek away from his house, back toward where your apartment building was at the end of the block. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Nope.”

“Well, get home safe!” He shouted as you walked further and further away, but you didn’t respond, continuing toward your building.

You did, however, throw yourself into your bed once you arrived home, and screamed into your pillow for a good five minutes before turning onto your back.

You had to stop letting him get to you.

You had to give him a taste of his own medicine. Not the way Jade did, but in a way that would protect your own feelings, all of the ones you’d sworn were under control and even non-existent.

You had to.

reply to be added to my stranger things taglist <3

[xoln04f1xo]

Off The Record - LN04 / CL16

Smut

Pairings: Lando Norris x Reader x Charles Leclerc

Moodboard: Here!

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ MDNI: threesome, protected sex, alcohol, consumption, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), overstimulation, mention of safewords, fingering

WC: 2.3k

A/N: omggg! the longest fic I've written so far. enjoy!

Divider Credit: @dollywons @enchanthings

The Monaco air was cool and quiet, the kind of stillness that only came in the off-season. No screaming engines. No grid walks. Just an empty garage, dimly lit and humming with leftover energy from the season that ended.

You probably shouldn't have been in there.

But then again, neither should they.

"Looks like someone's getting nostalgic," Lando's voice drawled from behind you, the slight smirk practically audible. You turned to find him leaning against the wall, arms crossed, hoodie sleeves pushed up, curls a little messy from the chill outside.

Charles wasn't far behind, hands tucked in the pockets of his joggers, eyes sweeping the garage with the same quiet amusement. "Or maybe she's scouting her future race seat," he teased, accent slipping into something dangerously smooth.

You smirked, leaning back against the workbench like you owned the place. "Please, you two wouldn't last a lap if I was on the grid." Lando's brows shot up. "Is that a challenge?"

"Depends," you said, twirling a loose cable between your fingers, "you boys planning to give me a test drive?"

Charles let out a low chuckle, stepping a little closer. "Careful, chérie. We don't offer test drives unless we are sure the driver can handle... dual controls."

"And pit stop get messy," Lando chimed in, now fully stalking toward you. "Especially when there's two people trying to keep up."

You rolled your eyes, heat creeping up your neck, though not from embarrassment. They were playing with fire, and you were more than ready to burn.

"So what's this then?" you asked, looking up them. "A game?"

"Off the record," Charles said with a wink.

Lando grinned. "And off the track."

They flanked you, one on either side, close enough to feel the tension crackle in the air. Hands not touching yet, but close. Too close. You could smell Lando’s cologne, catch the flicker of something darker in Charles’ eyes.

"Garage rules still apply though," Lando murmured, brushing a knuckle over your cheek.

"No helmets," Charles added.

"No brakes," Lando finished.

Your breath caught.

Oh, this winter break was going to be dangerous.

Lando's apartment was fairly nice. Sleek, modern, and just messy enough to prove that he actually lived there. A half-finished red bull can on the counter, two helmets tossed carelessly on the sofa, and that unnecessarily big TV you knew he never

used to watch anything but sim replays and memes.

You’d only meant to stop by for a drink. One drink.

But now you were barefoot on his polished floors, nursing something way too strong in a crystal glass, and wondering why Charles had taken his jacket off like this was his place too.

“You always invite people over just to ignore them?” you teased, perching on the edge of the low sofa, legs crossed just right. Lando, sprawled in his gaming chair, gave you a lazy grin. “I didn’t invite you. You just followed us.” You shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to see what kind of games you two play when the cameras aren’t watching.”

Charles chuckled from the kitchen, where he was pouring a second drink. “And here I thought you didn’t mix business with pleasure.”

“That’s the thing,” you said, eyes flicking from one to the other, “you two are the business. But pleasure? That’s up for negotiation.”

Lando’s brows lifted, but there was a flash in his eyes, like he was remembering the way you looked between them in the garage. Remembering the tone of your voice when you asked if they planned to give you a test drive. Charles walked over, drink in hand, and passed it to Lando instead of you. “She’s being trouble again,” he said, settling next to you on the couch with too much ease, too little distance.

“She was born for it,” Lando said, sipping. “Look at her.”

You tilted your head. “Look at me how?”

“Like you know exactly what you're doing.” Charles’s fingers brushed your bare knee, just for a second. “And we’re just trying to keep up.” You let the silence stretch for a moment, thick with unspoken what ifs. The kind that tasted like danger and desire. “Okay then,” you said, voice low, teasing. “Show me. Keep up.”

Lando stood, slow and deliberate, walking over until he was standing right in front of you, so close you had to look up. “You sure you can handle both of us?” Charles was already behind you now, fingertips tracing the curve of your shoulder. “She handled the season better than most drivers.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s ready for this kind of race,” Lando murmured, thumb brushing under your chin. You leaned into his touch, just a little. “Then prove it. Or are you both all talk when you’re off the grid?” Their silence wasn’t hesitation - it was calculation.

And when Lando finally bent down, lips hovering just above yours, and Charles’s hands slipped under the hem of your shirt from behind?

You knew this was a different kind of podium finish.

The tension in the air was palpable as you watched Lando and Charles exchange a knowing glance, their eyes darkening with lust. You felt a thrill of anticipation, your heart racing in your chest like an engine revving before the start of a race. The two men, both lean and muscular from countless hours in the gym and on the track, began to circle you like predators eyeing their prey.

You could see the outline of Lando's cock, thick and substantial, pressing against the fabric of his sweatpants. Charles, on the other hand, was more subtle, his arousal hidden by his joggers, but you could feel the heat radiating from his body as he stood close behind you.

"Alright, darling," Lando said, his voice a low purr that sent shivers down your spine. "You want to play? Let's play."

He reached for the zipper on your leather jacket, pulling it down with a slow, deliberate motion. You felt the cool air kiss your skin as he parted the leather, revealing the tight black tank top that hugged your breasts, the fabric stretched over your perky, rosy nipples. "You're going to need to be fast on your feet," he whispered, his breath hot against your neck.

"Or on your back," Charles murmured, his fingers tracing the waistband of your jeans. His touch was gentle but firm, hinting at the strength in his hands, the same strength that had gripped the steering wheel of his car countless times. "We don't do pit stops for those who lag behind."

You smirked, rising to the challenge. "I'm not one to lag, remember?" You turned to face him, pressing your body against his, feeling the bulge in his joggers growing.

Your hands slid up his chest, the fabric of his shirt cool under your fingertips, until you reached his neck, pulling him down for a kiss that was as fiery as the passion that had been building between you three all season.

Lando's mouth was as skilled as his driving, his tongue dancing with yours in a seductive tango that left you gasping for more.

Meanwhile, Charles's hands found the button of your jeans, deftly undoing them before sliding the zipper down, the metal whispering against the fabric as he went. Your breath hitched as his warm palms cupped your ass, squeezing gently and making you arch into him.

"Mm, seems like someone's eager to hit the accelerator," Lando murmured against your lips, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. His cock, now fully hard and demanding, nudged your thigh, a silent but insistent reminder of his intentions.

Charles's hands slipped into the back of your jeans, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your panties. "Let's get you out of these," he said, his voice a seductive rumble.

You stepped back, breaking the kiss, and watched as both men took in the sight of you in just your tank top and panties. Your ass was tight and round, the perfect handful, and your pussy was already slick with anticipation, the damp fabric clinging to your mound.

"I've always had a thing for fast cars," Lando said, his gaze raking over your body. "But I think I might have found something even more thrilling."

His hand reached out, tracing a path from your collarbone to the swell of your breast, his thumb brushing over the peak of your nipple. You gasped, your back arching involuntarily into his touch. "Is that right?"

"Mhm," Lando said, his eyes dark with desire. He stepped closer, his cock now fully exposed, standing proud and thick against his flat stomach. "But you know what else I like?"

"Tell me," you whispered, your voice thick with lust.

"I like a good tease before the main event," Lando said, his voice dropping an octave. He reached out, his hand sliding over your hip, and gave your ass a firm squeeze. "But I also like to go full throttle when the moment's right."

"And when is that?" you asked, your voice a sultry challenge as you stepped away from him, turning to face Charles. He had removed his shirt, revealing the sculpted abs and broad chest that had made you drool countless times in photoshoots.

His erection was now fully visible, his cock long and thick, with a slight curve that made your mouth water. "Now," he said, his voice a low growl, his French accent thick with desire. He stepped closer, his cock brushing against your thigh. "But first, I want to make sure you're warmed up."

You felt Lando's hands on your shoulders, pushing you gently but firmly down onto the sofa. He knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours, and placed his glass on the floor.

"We need a safe word," Charles says. "What would you like it to be?" Lando asks. "Hmm violet?" you say. "Okay, if things get to much just say your safe word, yeah?" You nod.

Lando kneeled on the floor in front of you and spread you legs as wide as possible so he could see your dripping pussy. "Fucking hell, your dripping," he looked up at you and you nodded and he started licking and sucking your clit. You let out a load moan. Charles was kissing your neck, just adding to the pleasure more. Your head shot back as Lando inserted two fingers into your dripping hole. "Oh my god, Lando please."

He hummed, sending vibrations through your clit making you moan louder. The sensation sending you spiralling into your first orgasm.

Lando pulls away and nods at Charles. He quickly gets a condom from his wallet and rolls it on. He flips you over and says "Are you ready?" You nod and he slowly pushes in. You hiss at the overstimulation but is passes and Charles glides in and out while you moan.

Lando stands behind the sofa and hooks a finger under your chin making you look up at him. "Do you think you could take both of us?"

"Mhm," you say. "Good girl," he praises you. You start stroking him up and down. "You feel so good, baby" Charles says.

Lando's dick slides over her tongue. She swirls her tongue around his tip as she sucks. Lando lets out a deep groan and pushes your head down a little.

"Oh fuck, you feel so good," they both say. You hum sending vibrations down Lando's cock and you clench on Charles' dick. He hits that sweet spot making you moan around Lando, enough for him to cum. "Swallow it for me princess." You do as your told and he pulls out. Meanwhile Charles keeps going deeper. You clench around him making you both cum and he slowly pulls out carefully.

The apartment was quiet now. Not silent -Lando's soft breaths beside you, Charles humming faintly in the other room as he filled a glass of water - but quiet in a way that felt safe. Like a storm had passed and left something in it's wake.

You were lying across Lando's bed, tucked into the middle, body still warm and buzzing. Not from the adrenaline anymore - but from the way his fingers were tracing slow shapes along your arm, barely there but grounding.

"You okay?" he asked with a gentle voice. You nodded, turning your face into his chest a little. "More than okay."

His hand shifted to brush hair out of your face. “Good. You didn’t say your safe word or anything, but I still like hearing you say it.”

“Lando,” you murmured, voice quiet, “I felt safe the whole time.”

"Me too," Charles said from the doorway, because he somehow always thought of both of you at once. He set them on the nightstand, then leaned down to press a kiss to your shoulder, soft and slow. “You were… incredible.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering closed under the warmth of it. “You two weren’t so bad yourselves.” Lando chuckled, snuggling closer. “We aim to please.”

Charles slid into bed on your other side, his arm wrapping around your waist like it had always belonged there. “We aim to care.” There was silence for a moment, but it wasn’t awkward. Just full. Of affection. Of shared glances. Of the silent understanding that this was more than just heat and sweat and games in garages.

Lando kissed your temple. “Want me to run you a bath? Or are you good to stay curled up like this for a while?”

“I’d rather stay,” you whispered, sinking deeper into the sheets, into them. “Like this. Just for a little longer.”

“Whatever you need,” Charles said, pulling the blanket higher over all of you.

“Always,” Lando added.

And in the quiet dark, surrounded by warm skin, tangled limbs, and two sets of steady heartbeats - you knew they meant it.

Click here to see more!

[five-rivers]

An anonymous asker requested a fic where Danny was eaten and reborn. Hope you enjoy. :3

.

In the Infinite Realms, the closest thing to death was rebirth. There were, after all, very few things that could die twice, and they could not die permanently.

That being said, there were many ways to be reborn. By forgetting one's past, like those who drank from the Lethe. By being exalted into something higher. By being reduced to something lesser. By changing, as the butterfly in its cocoon, or a larva fed on honey. By the force of one's own awakening power, or by the manipulations of another. By curses. By blessings. By incautious wishes. By consumption.

In the Far Frozen, there was a great dragon. An ice wyrm. It sported elegant horns, proud antlers, a flowing mane, and sharp teeth. Ice like diamonds gleamed from its hide, nestled within fur and feathers both. Its wings and legs were small, compared to its great length, but it had many of them, all of them tipped with talons of ice. It brought clouds and snow in its wake, and, when it was angry, blizzards and thundersnow.

Some stories claimed that it could, if it chose, take the form of a noble-featured man or woman, and speak on things like science and poetry with the ease of one who had studied those disciplines for lifetimes. Others framed the dragon as a monstrosity, a violent beast made for destruction. Still others had it as a simple force of nature, born of the Realms.

Every one hundred years, the fiercest warriors of the Far Frozen would hunt it - an endeavor that might last years in and of itself - carve its meat from its bones, mount the antlers, and feast. Then, they would place those bones on a frozen river and bury them in snow, so that it would reform, gathering that snow and ice and turning it into flesh.

That hunt would begin soon. The dragon had been spotted, and each of its antlers had the requisite one hundred points.

Danny, flying to the Far Frozen because he'd caught a cold that was messing with his powers, knew none of this. Most of the time, he got over colds within a day or so, if he caught anything at all. He was worried that this was some kind of ghost sickness.

But he wasn't thinking about that right now, even as he passed over the floating icebergs that made up the Far Frozen's borders, because he had more immediate problems.

"Whelp!" shouted Skulker from somewhere behind him.

"Ghost boy!" trilled Technus, from not much further behind that.

They'd started chasing him about half an hour ago, and they were persistent. Whenever he thought he'd lost them, they'd found him again within minutes. One of them must have picked up a reliable tracking tool, because they weren't this competent on their own, usually.

Well, Technus might have been. That ghost knew how to think out of the box.

Danny could probably beat them, even with them working together, but he didn’t want to fight. He wasn't in Amity Park, where he had to if he didn't want the city in ruins, and with his powers acting up--

A missile streaked by him and he banked, knowing that wasn't a miss. Sure enough, it exploded ahead of him, knocking him out of the sky and into an iceberg.

"Ha! Soon, I will have your pelt at the foot of my bed!"

"And my plans for WORLD DOMINATION will be unopposed!"

"Oh my God," said Danny, shoving them both back with a wave of snow. "Just because I'm not there downstairs mean people will just let you take over the world! It's like all the times you've attacked me in social studies means nothing to you!"

A net dropped on Danny. Then, it shocked him.

"How do you like my new drone--"

It was like a dam breaking. Danny's control was already frayed thin, and he was always weak against electricity. He screamed, and that scream turned into a frost-touched wail, ice growing into huge crystals around him. He didn't stop wailing so much as he ran out of energy, dropping to the ground, his vision wavering and his transformation rings flickering around him.

No. No, no, no. If he lost consciousness and his transformation both, he'd... Well, he didn't know if he'd freeze to death, but he didn't want to test it. He forced the transformation rings away and his ghost form seemed to... settle, somehow. He slid down to rest among the bases of the enormous ice crystals he'd made and closed his eyes. He'd worry about that... later.

Danny regained consciousness to the feeling of something - someone? - shaking him. No, someone rolling him over. And rolling him over again. He grumbled, not sure why Jazz was so insistent he wake up and less sure why his bed suddenly felt like the floor of a meat locker.

Something cold caught on the collar of his suit, and then there was a ripping sound. Danny flailed himself awake, losing most of the upper half of his suit to the dragon's claws. Then, he froze, trying to process what he was seeing.

That. That was a dragon. A huge dragon.

Unlike what many of Danny's enemies thought, he wasn't an idiot and he knew when to run from a fight he couldn't win. He made the snap decision to turn human and phase through the iceberg so he could get away.

But, when he called for them, his transformation rings didn't come.

Danny's transformation required power. Energy. Usually, when he approached the lower threshold of that energy, his body would flip him back to the lower energy state of 'human.' But he'd resisted that instinctual, automatic flip, this time. If he were not in the Ghost Zone, he would likely be having trouble staying both visible and solid.

He didn't know that, of course. This situation had only been made possible by a combination of poor sleep, illness, his growing ice powers, and incredibly poor luck.

When the dragon resumed its attempt to peel him with its claws, Danny decided to go with plan B: scream for help. However, he only managed a pitiful rasp. He'd wailed too long and too hard and, well, he was sick. Losing one's voice wasn't exactly an unusual symptom of a cold.

Plan C was fight, but that went about as well as Danny had thought it would. That was to say, it didn't. But he had to do something, and he wasn't going to just let the dragon eat him, which had to be what was going on here, right?

It pinned him down and dragged off the rest off what remained of his suit by the boots. Then, it immediately went to work on Danny's t-shirt, pants, and underthings, which were made of far less sturdy material and shredded easily.

Even for a cold core ghost, being naked in the snow like this wasn't pleasant. It was less pleasant when the dragon started licking him. Danny wriggled and squirmed, anything to get out from under the dragon's claws and away from its tongue, but it was through and careful, seeming to want to get every single part of him.

The tongue was wider than Danny was tall and covered with large, knobbly bumps that slid across Danny's skin like ice. It was wet. It dripped with thick, clinging saliva that smelled faintly floral. It stuck to Danny, making his skin feel slimy and tingly everywhere it touched, like some of his parents' more gooey weapons. Whatever it was, it wasn't made mostly of water.

Then, when Danny was completely covered from head to toe, the dragon let go and breathed on him.

The saliva on Danny's skin froze instantly into a hard, clear layer. His cold core - still developing and often forced to be in much warmer environments than it liked - thrilled at the effect, much to Danny's general discomfort and displeasure.

The dragon flipped Danny over and breathed again, making sure that side of him was also frozen. Then, it started licking him again. All over.

Only once three layers of saliva-ice had been deposited did the dragon open its lips wide and close them around Danny.

The dragon was large enough to hold Danny in its mouth easily, trapped between soft tongue and rigid roof. It turned him over several times, and Danny could feel the ice around him continue to build. The tongue licked and touched and almost played with him. And then, it swallowed, pressing him back into the dragon's throat.

So. Danny had been swallowed before. Not when he was also immobilized and so weak, but it had happened. Most ghosts that tried to eat him, he had found, were not actually designed to eat things. Not in the way that living things ate things. Their throats and 'stomachs' were little more than voids, with little structure.

The fact that this wasn't like that, that the dragon's throat was seemingly made of strong, constricting muscle that pushed him down with rippling squeezes was... concerning. The ripples were slow, but steady, and the pressure of each of them was immense. Danny could feel it through the ice.

It was... not soothing, exactly. Being eaten wasn't soothing. But it was sort of like being hugged by something very large, and being held still... being worn from being sick... being in the dark... It was a regular motion, and one that conspired with the temperature to be very physically comfortable.

(If his cold was caused by something like being too hot, Danny was going to throw a fit.)

And then, with little warning, Danny was extruded into a larger pocket of flesh. He dropped a few feet, then hit something liquid and glowing. He sank down into it and floated for a few minutes.

Then, the folds of flesh around him - the dragon's stomach? - contracted and the liquid began to drain.

Once it was empty, the temperature in the dragon's stomach warmed just enough for the layer of ice on Danny's skin to start to slough off... And to take with it a layer of Danny's skin.

In ghost form, Danny was just as plastic as any other ghost, and his skin reformed quickly over his ectoplasmic muscle. It prickled.

But, now that he wasn't frozen solid, Danny was in a position to actually try to escape. He tried to call energy to his hands, but his powers still weren't responding. He tried to kick and punch his way into at least giving the dragon indigestion, but the walls of the stomach absorbed all the attacks. Then he tried to scratch and bite, but the skin was too tough. Before he could try a different method of attack, the walls of the stomach contracted again, forcing him into a fetal position.

And the stomach started to fill up with liquid again.

Now that he was no longer encased in ice, Danny could tell that the liquid was thick, viscous, blue, and far, far below the freezing temperature of water. It made his new skin feel fragile, delicate, almost... crispy. It was freezing, he realized, it, and the layer of muscle immediately under it, trapping him in this position even as the liquid rose and the stomach relaxed and cooled, freezing a thicker layer around him.

Then, the liquid drained away and the stomach contracted again. And Danny lost another layer of ectoplasm, his body morphing to accommodate the loss. This time, he could also detect a pervasive, low-pitched, vibrating hum all around him. The dragon's core, maybe? Even as Danny started to struggle again, the liquid returned and the stomach relaxed.

And it happened again. And again. And again. Each time, Danny lost more of his substance and his struggles became weaker and weaker, until they stopped entirely, his resistance exhausted. He was still half-human, and he needed sleep more than most other ghosts, but even without that, continually reforming himself so that he wasn't just raw meat was tiring, and the hum of the dragon's core had taken on a distinctly hypnotic cadence.

Danny's body's automatic repairs started to grow... lazier, for lack of a better word. Sloppier. Details were left out. Shapes were smoothed over and made simpler.

And then, just when Danny was starting to nod off, the stomach spasmed and pushed Danny - and the stomach liquid he was marinating in - off into a separate, spherical chamber. It was small enough that even Danny's much reduced form felt cramped.

There was a tickle, near his abdomen, and Danny blearily looked down, through the distortion of the liquid, to see a spiderweb-thin line connecting his navel to the outside of the sphere. As he watched, it grew thicker and thicker, and he could feel his remaining strength flowing out of him along its length.

He should break it.

He couldn't make himself move.

He closed his eyes. So. He'd really been eaten. Successfully. This was, he thought, a really annoying way to go.

.

"Hold," said Frostbite, raising his hand. The dragon was nestled in a hollow in the ice far below them, curled in on itself over and over. It seemed to be sleeping, making this the ideal time to attack. Yet, there was something off. Something different from the usual hunt, from the many times Frostbite had seen the dragon before. Then, he spotted it. "We must stop the hunt."

"But Chief--!" protested Sleetfall, the youngest of the tribe's hunters.

"Hush," said Snowdrift. "Listen."

"Look," said Frostbite. "Do you see what it holds between its foreclaws?"

"Ah," said Snowdrift. "Yes. I see."

"What?" asked Sleetfall. "All I see is a ball of ice."

"Ah, you were not yet an adult when this last happened," said Frostbite. Even though Sleetfall was both young and eager, it had been long enough since they come of age that sometimes Frostbite forgot. "It is not a ball of ice. Or, it not only a ball of ice. That is an egg. Someone has been eaten and waits to be reborn within. We must respect the great dragon's role in their rebirth."

He could see in Sleetfall's eyes. They did not want to stop the hunt, the first with such storied prey. But the youth's shoulders slumped and they nodded. "But, Chief, who even would it have eaten? None of the tribe have been missing."

"I have my thoughts," said Frostbite. There were very few visitors to the Far Frozen. "But, come, do not be so grim. A dragon child is cause enough for celebration, even if they do not join the tribe." He patted Sleetfall on the back. "Think about what you could teach them."

Sleetfall brightened. It was well enough. Even if it was Phantom in that egg, he would have much to learn and much to relearn. A rebirth was, after all, still a birth.