#drunken debauchery

[yourplayersaidwhat]

(For context, the fighter was given a Tankard of Sobriety from our Rogue yet the fighter was not told what it actually did as they went around different bars partaking in drinking contests to raise money.)

Enemy Pirate: I knew ye were cheatin wi’ that Tankard o’ Sobriety

Fighter: (To the Rogue) You asshole! That’s why I haven’t gotten drunk all week!

Rogue: Oh that’s why they call it that!

Fighter: I’ve been trying get drunk. I’ve been drinking for a week straight!

Rogue: I can see that you’re all upset, but to be fair, in my defence, it was very funny.

[ex-frat-man]

[kentray]

This is old, but I think we need to once again appreciate that Toheeb provides for us Brett Goldstein fans! Missing Ted Lasso! Give me Season 3 or at least a sneak peek. 

[weasleyreidstyles]

on a night like tonight

wrote this for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge using the dialogue prompt!! just a fluffy (debatable) one shot for my favourite slytherin boy🫠🫠🫠

prompt 2: "are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?"

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!slytherin reader (although its not that important to the one shot, honestly)

warning(s): slightly suggestive (towards the end), alcohol consumption

~∞~ i love writing for mattheo😫 idk how i feel about this one but i enjoyed writing either way lol. and yes i titled this after a niall song (im still not over the fact that i saw him in the flesh like a whole week ago!??!?!) also happy international women's day to all of you sexy, beautiful women xxxx

The Slytherin common room was ripe with activity. The Quidditch team had beaten Gryffindor by an utter landslide (250-110), so it was only appropriate for them to throw a huge party to celebrate. The team were in the middle of the room, surrounded by their most loyal band of lovestruck followers, as they drowned in all sorts of alcoholic beverages.

Spheres of magical light littered the high ceiling, glittering like stars and creating an eerily green glow as they reflected off of the murky waters of the Black Lake. The seating areas had been cleared, and in place was a makeshift dancefloor of sorts, filled to the brim with students dancing, singing and laughing to whatever music was playing on a stereo that Blaise had brought in from his Ravenclaw friends.

You were stood against a wall beside Pansy, who was busy glaring at the girl who had draped herself against Theo's arm as he laughed heartily at something Enzo had said. Your best friend was seething with jealousy, but she was far too stubborn to do anything about her feelings for your Italian friend.

The two of them had been dancing around their feelings for months; it was downright infuriating.

"I don't understand why you won't do something about it, Pans!" You say to her loudly, so that your voice could be heard over the earshattering bass music. "I'm getting sick of the back and forth between the two of you!"

Pansy finally takes her eyes off of the floppy haired brunette, who is now whispering in the ear of the girl, with a suggestive smirk on his face. "I'd say the same for you." She scoffs and you turn to her with furrowed brows.

"Oh don't act dumb." Pansy says with a laugh as she turns towards you fully, the drink in her hand sloshing over the rim of the cup as she does. "I see the way you look at Matt. You're very obvious. Both of you are."

"I don't know what you're talking about." You say reluctantly, taking a lengthy sip of your firewhiskey to avoid her knowing look.

Had your affections for your friend really been so blatant?

And did he really return them?

You turn towards the middle of the room and the liquid in your cup is suddenly drained to empty as you watch Mattheo dance closely behind a pretty Hufflepuff girl.

You and Pansy return to your mutual solitude, letting your friends revel in their win against their greatest rival, while simultaneously becoming more and more drunk, the more you watch as Theo and Mattheo obliviously break your hearts some more.

~∞~

It's much later into the night, and the party has not died down. In fact, it only seems to have gotten busier as more and more people from the other houses joined in on the debauchery.

You are so drunk. Practically stumbling along behind Pansy as she drags you to and from the dance floor to get more drinks. The two of you are dancing on each other, her hips grinding against your's to the beat of the music as you both giggle tipsily. You're unaware of your surroundings and have surely pissed off many other partiers with your drunken moves. But it doesn't bother either of you, content to enjoy each other's company, until there is a presence behind you that has Pansy smirking cheekily at you.

You narrow your eyes at her, vision hazy as you feel hands cradle your waist, almost possessively. Looking up, you come face to face with the underside of Mattheo's sharp jaw as he says something to Pansy that you don't comprehend. Whatever he says has her disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to his mercy.

"Hello, Princess." He mumbles lowly, mouth brushing against the soft shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run down the length of your spine.

"Matty! Hi." You say, voice slightly slurred and you grimace at how drunk you sound. He only smirks before he's gently spinning you to face him.

"Haven't seen you since the start of the match. 'S been ages." He replies, voice raspy from how much he'd shouted and cheered during and after the match.

"It's not been that long." You say with a teasing smile as you take in his appearance. In place of the emerald quidditch robes he'd been sporting that afternoon, he's wearing a dark, black t-shirt which stretches tightly across his torso, emphasising his Beater physique and a pair of dark trousers drapes over strong legs. Your observation is slow and purposeful and the smirk on his face widens even further as you admire him more openly then you ever have before.

He's chuckling to himself and then says something that you can barely hear over the loud music that reverberates through the room. But the cadence of his voice and the way they almost seem to have been hissed out in a way you do not understand, makes you tilt your head to the side as he smiles.

"What did you just say?" You ask him, or rather shout so that he can hear you. He copies you with a tilt of his head as he looks down at you with his captivating onyx eyes.

He repeats it again, his hands tightening against your waist when you stumble slightly as someone jostles you in an attempt to get past, smirking when your face scrunches in confusion.

"Are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?" You ask, your hands coming to rest against his firm chest when you were pushed into him.

"Gods, Princess. How much have you had to drink?" He asks with gleaming eyes. It's the mischief in them that has you opening your mouth in feined outrage.

"You were speaking parceltongue!" You accuse and he lets out a laugh as you lightly whack his chest. "What did you say!?"

"Now why would I tell you that?" He replies, his face leaning closer to your's. You can smell the alcohol on his hot breath, mingling with your own and you can feel every breath he takes as it fans across your face.

"Because I'm your best friend?" You say with a smirk as you unconsciously wrap your arms around his neck, leaning on your tip toes slightly so that you can be at eye level with him. The move has your hips brushing against his. You swear his eyes darken as you do.

"Theo's my best friend." He says in a tone of faux obviousness, mischief laced in his rough voice.

"But I'm your favourite, right? If you admit it, I promise that Teddy will never know. It can be our little secret, Matty." You tease and he's laughing again, before he says something else in that strange, reptilian voice, eyes flicking from you eyes to your lips.

You've always been my favourite, darling.

The ways his eyes sparkle, despite the harshness of the sounds against his tongue have you acting upon instinct as you surge forward and press your lips to his. It's as magical as you've always imagined, despite it being tainted by your twin inebriation. But you'll take what you can get.

Because Mattheo Riddle is finally kissing you and you reckon you could fall into a abyss of happiness as his pillowly lips caress your's with loving grace.

~∞~

The next morning, you wake up in an unfamiliar, yet familiar dorm room and Enzo is smirking at you with glee. A tanned, muscular arm is draped across your middle and you're using the other as a makeshift pillow. Your face warms as you recognise the large, veiny hand that stretches across your stomach.

"Fun night?" Your friend asks with a snicker and you flip him off in response. He leaves the room after he's done teasing you, his loud laughter echoing in the corridor. You move to stand but an arm tightens around the skin of your waist.

"Where do you think you're going, Princess?" Mattheo mumbles, his voice low and raspy from sleep.

"Well good morning, sunshine." You reply, a smile spreading across your face as you turn to face him, to find that he is already staring at you, with adoration in his onyx eyes.

"Am I still dreaming, or are you really in my bed right now?" He asks as you trace a finger lightly over his naked chest.

"Oh it's very real. And I'm sure Enzo has already told the others what he just discovered." You reply with a giddy laugh.

"About bloody time, don't you think?" Mattheo's question is muffled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzles his face there. You smile in response, giggling as pieces of his curly hair brush against your soft skin.

"I'd still like to know what you said last night." You say but he doesn't give you the answer. Instead, he rolls the two of you so that you lie beneath his toned body, strong arms caging you in.

"That's my little secret, Princess." He mumbles as he presses languid kisses down your neck and chest, travelling lower until your rendered a moaning mess beneath him.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

For the love of god(dess) || CL16 {1}

A/N & Summary: Greek God/dess AU. This was a draft I had wasting away with reincarnation trope. Reader is the goddess of love. I don't even know what I am doing anymore lol Warnings: reader injury, blood WC: 2.2k Part One || Two

“Do you ever stop working?”

You leered across the scrying bowl to the unwelcome guest waltzing into your sanctum. “Unlike some, my work never ends.”

“Come now, I remember a time when you used to love my little soirées,” Dionysus whispered in your ear as he dipped his finger in the bowl, disturbing the still waters. The god of debauchery had never held just a little party, there was a reason hedonism and excess had been celebrated for millennia. “Take one night off. It will be one to remember.”

“Liar,” you said with a smile despite yourself. “I still don’t have any memory of the last one.”

He winked and flicked the droplet of water from his finger at you playfully, “Then I am doing my job right. It’s on earth…”

Damn, the god knew how to pique your interest. Thousands of years watching through the haze of the scrying bowl did little to capture their humanity. Whenever you could, you used to walk among them to see the fruits of your labour. 

“Love, you are eternal - yet you waste away in this…” he drifted off as he looked around the empty stone room, carvings depicting your greatest champions along the walls, “place.”

While the other gods had their golden palaces you were content in the temple that had once been filled with priestesses who served the deity you once were. A shell of who you used to be reflected back in the still water. What was the Goddess of Love with a broken heart? Cold and empty like this temple.

Your thoughts darkened and shadows crept along the walls before you took a deep breath. It had been a few decades since you had some fresh air, maybe it was for the best to get out. “Fine. One night.”

Dio grinned and swept an arm around your waist before leading you to the door. The sunlight hit your face and you cursed Apollo until your eyes adjusted to the brightness. The drunken god took one look at the white robe you wore, a silver sash tied at the waist, and tutted.

“I know beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but this won’t do.”

“Any other insults?” you dared as you cast a hand over yourself, the white cotton bleeding to a deep red leather skin that hugged your body and accentuated your assets. A black corset snapped at the contours of your waist and pressed your breasts up, the armour unnecessary but as familiar as breathing. The others may have forgotten the great war but your heart remembered the loss and you swore you would not leave yourself vulnerable again. 

He let out a low whistle and shook his head. 

“Oh, one more thing.” Your bow and quiver snapped into place across your back and drew a groan from Dio. “What?” Your eyes darted to the chalice that was forever held in his left hand. “You have your attachments, I have mine.”

He held his cupped hand up, wine sloshing over the rim, and pointed a finger at you. “Firstly, this is a curse - not a choice. And secondly, this is useful to drink out of.”

“Maybe you should have been more careful where you stuck your dick.”

“I didn’t know the nymph was one of Zeus’ favourites, obviously,” Dio grumbled before setting off down the path that would lead to the mortal realm.

–

Las Vegas, Mortal Realm, 2023 PIW (Post-Immortal-Wars)

You already knew the party would be a large one, but this was big even by Dionysus’ standards. Thousands of people imbibed in the free flowing alcohol and danced under strobe lights in Sin City, his favourite playground. Dio sent a mischievous wink before he touched the champagne tower and his power imbued with the liquor to increase the effect and ensure everyone was on the same level as him.

“Drink, Love,” he ordered as he tipped the rim of his glass to your lips. Sweet wine warmed your throat as much as his power did and you drank it down knowing that for at least a few minutes your cares would be diminished - but they always came back too soon. “Now dance.”

Your hips swayed and your hands found themselves moving above your head as the lights mesmerised you. Human scents came and went as they moved around you, their pheromones calling to your power as they found lovers, if only for the night. One particular scent caught your attention and you followed it to find Dio talking to the human. He had been god touched and the mark glowed on his brow - not that the mortals could see it.

“Love, this is the man of the hour,” Dio gushed, casting a hand to the party as if it were all for him. “Max here won the race.”

You didn’t know what race he was referring to, nor did you care. “Of course he did,” you stated dryly. Max was Nike’s champion and Nike was the Goddess of Victory in everything except what mattered. “Congratulations.”

You grabbed Dio’s hand and drank your fill from his cursed chalice in the hopes it would douse the fire that ignited in your veins. If Nike had fought alongside you in the war instead of wasting her time with her Olympians and their silly sports then maybe Károlos would have survived. Maybe you would do more than just survive eternity alone.

“Sorry, she doesn’t get out much,” Dio joked, clapping the victor on the arm. “Drink, my friend. The night is young and life is short.”

You slipped away into the sea of bodies, drifting through until a cool breeze called from the balcony and you escaped to the quiet. Your breath exhaled with a heaviness only an immortal could carry and a chuckle startled you.

“Fuck, not another one. Can’t I have one moment of peace?” you groaned as his scent found you before the handsome man stepped out of the shadows of the corner he had been hiding in.

“Sorry,” he apologised. “This was my hiding place first.”

The mark of the Adonis glowed beneath the dark hair that fell over his forehead and you internally scoffed at the god’s vanity. The man standing before you would have been stuck down if he showed his face in Olympus, he was far too good looking it would be considered an offence to the petty gods. And those eyes, green eyes just like...You had to look away before you could finish that thought.

“What do you have to hide from?” you asked, leaning against the rail as you watched fireworks explode among the stars. “You’re a champion.”

“You must have me confused with someone else,” he laughed bitterly.

“I know a champion when I see one.” You felt Dionysus breeze onto the balcony before you heard his drunken laugh behind you, the bitter smell of blackthorn root on his breath from the drug he had smoked.

“Love, eternal Love, I found you,” he slurred as hugged your back, the feathered fletches from the quiver of arrows irritating him. “Must you wear these prickly things?”

Before you could stop him, he ripped an arrow out, the sharpened point catching the side of your neck. A hiss of pain escaped your lips as blood trickled down your throat and the power that kept the weapons hidden from mortal sight broke with the bead of blood on the tip. 

Adonis’ champion gasped as his mind raced to piece together what he was seeing. A woman bleeding and a man holding the weapon. His eyes narrowed and he leapt at Dio, trying to wretch the bloodied arrow from him before he could attack you again. You could have laughed at how futile the attempt was for a mortal to attack a god but said god was higher than Zeus’ perch in his palace and rotten drunk off his wine. 

The fates must have been laughing their asses off as the mortal and god collided, both tumbling to the floor before the mortal screamed in pain.

A hand reached into your chest, at least that was how it felt when the fire exploded inside you. “No, no, no, no,” you cried as Dio fell away from the mortal and you saw the arrow buried in the champion's chest. “What have you done?”

The fire faded as the bond snapped into place and you hated how you suddenly feared for the mortal. That fear had you rushing to his side and falling to your knees as Dio stared at his hands. “I, I didn’t mean to,” he stammered. 

Even the mortals knew the power those arrows held, the stories were told throughout the ages of how just a nick from one could make strangers, enemies even, fall for each other in an instant. The greatest weapon of all was love and it had the power to destroy even the immortals. And Dio had just stabbed the mortal with one, coated in your blood. Blood that bonded.

You gripped the shaft and tugged the arrow out of his chest before slamming your hand over the wound and pouring your energy into it, sealing it closed. He reached for your hand that was slick with his blood and you let him hold it, unable to fight the love that came from your own power. 

“You’ll be okay,” you promised him before narrowing your eyes at Dio. “You, not so much.”

“It was an accident, I swear, it was like I couldn’t control myself. Charles just jumped-”

Your eyes flared silver as you looked back at the unearthly green shade of his eyes. Same eyes, same name, Adonis’ champion. You had foolishly thought Adonis had chosen the mortal for his beauty, but if the mortal was reincarnated then he would also bear the mark on his brow.

“Károlos,” you whispered as a feeling of rightness settled across the universe.

Charles frowned at the name but understood the tenderness in the tone, such a sweet sound. His chest no longer burned and smooth skin met his palm as he felt for the wound that had healed, but the blood on his shirt was proof he had not imagined it all. 

“Who are you?” he asked as he rose to his feet, tasting his blood on his tongue.

You flinched at the question and looked to the stars. “I go by many names, but you may call me Y/N.”

“You called me Károlos.”

“That was your name the first time you walked the earth,” Adonis said, appearing on the balcony in a flash of light. “Károlos, Karlaz, Carl, Charles - it’s always the same. A hundred lifetimes lived, always searching, always waiting. All for this moment.”

When Károlos had been killed you had stormed to the Underworld ready to bargain with Hades, but he had said Károlos wasn’t in the Elysian Fields. You hadn’t believed him in your anger. All this time, Adonis had kept his soul safe. 

You reached behind to your quiver and drew an arrow, grabbing your bow and notching it. “You had two thousand years to tell me he was alive.”

Adonis held his hands up, shifting closer to Dio ready to sacrifice him as a shield. “You think the fates would let me tell you! I did what I could but you were happy to grovel alone in your temple.”

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Charles asked, wondering why no one had come to see what was going on, except when he looked at the party everyone was frozen like the time had come to a stop.

“I was grieving! And now I will have to mourn him anew, because he’s fucking mortal!”

Adonis grinned and you debated releasing the arrow. “Are you sure about that? Is that not your blood that runs in his veins now? I can smell it on him.”

You paused. Your blood had been on the arrow, immortal blood. You and Charles had gravitated to each other without realising it and you inhaled as you leaned a little closer. There was still a hint of that fresh mortal scent but it was an undercurrent to the aether that grew stronger with each breath. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Charles snapped as you dissected him with your eyes like an experiment. “And why is no one else moving?”

You unnotched the arrow and waved the feathered end at Adonis. “We are going to have words about this later.” The beautiful god nodded before disappearing in a flash of light.

“So I'm forgiven, right?” Dio asked with a shy smile. “Told you it would be one to remember.”

You held a hand up to silence him and looked at Charles. “I don’t know how to answer your questions without making more. It might be easier if I show you.”

He accepted your hand without hesitation and you wondered how much of that was the force of the bond or because on some unconscious level his soul recognised yours. Either way, you smiled at the warmth between your skin before leaving the mortal realm behind.

“Where are we going?” he asked as the stars faded with the lights of Sin City.

“Home.”

–

For Reference: Dionysus - God of Wine and Pleasure Nike - Goddess of Victory Adonis - God of Beauty, Desire and Rebirth Károlos - (Old derivative for Charles) A warrior who was fated to be your soulmate before being killed protecting you in the Immortal Wars. Reincarnated as Charles Leclerc by Adonis. Olympus - Immortal Realm

Click here for part two.

[beloved-nyx]

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ SYNOPSIS - What more could a king want than you?

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ PAIRING - Yandere!Emperor x GN!Reader

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ FORMAT - Oneshot

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ CW - YANDERE CONTENT, Alexi is fucking depraved, the wine is really sus, mentions of blood, illegal use of blood (?), implied noncon if you squint, implications of SA on reader (not graphic, just mentions), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ AUTHORS NOTE - bleh this is my first time writing Yandere sooooo but um hehe I hope this is good and um scary I guess I hope u get scaroused when reading this

You had never liked wine in the first place. 

It tasted sour, left a bitter taste in your mouth that made you want to puke. Maybe It was because you only had enough money to buy the cheap bottles, the ones that nobles would probably scoff at. It’s not like you could afford the luxuries they had anyway, or the time which they wasted by throwing extravagant banquets. 

But you started hating wine more when you stayed at the palace, the place you worked at. The Crown Prince was frivolous, throwing parties and balls every night, and the smell of debauchery was always present. You had no choice but serve the half-drunken nobles all night, wincing and scowling and sometimes even slapping wandering and unwelcome hands that came near you.

You hardly ever got sleep when you stayed at the palace, not when you had to partake in such parties, and definitely not when you could feel prying eyes following your every movement at the palace you begrudgingly called “home” even if it was nothing like that. 

You don’t know how you caught the Crown Prince's attention. You had made sure to look down, made sure not to break the rules, and absolutely made sure not to stand out. 

You knew what happened when poor servants had the affection of nobles.

Poor servants would get beheaded by jealous fiancés, maids would carry bastard children they never wanted, and the nobles would whisper and gossip and cause hell towards those weaker than them. 

“You look lost in thought, beloved.” 

A soft, silky voice that makes you want to claw your ears off startles you from your thoughts, and you look towards your left.

A man is seated at the front of a long banquet table, dressed in the finest clothes one could imagine. His long, black hair is messily done, and his dead, dark eyes stare into the cup he’s holding in his pale, lithe fingers. His lips, dabbed in red powder, are curled up in a smile as his eyes leave from his cup. 

“Am I boring you?” He sets his cup down, and you peer at the contents. Dark, crimson wine enters your sight and you quickly look away, instead looking down at the red, lush carpets. 

“Of course not, Your Imperial Majesty,” You hastily answer, your voice loud in the cold, empty room. The only light that seemed to illuminate the dark was the flimsy glow of the candles, a pathetic attempt at making this situation “romantic.” 

Ever since the Crown Prince, Alexander, became Emperor, your life had become a living hell in the making. He makes a contemplative “hmm,” before tapping his finger on the table. 

“Please, there's no need for such formalities.” He grins, and in that moment you want nothing better than to slap that grin off his face. “After all, we will be married soon. It’s quite uncomfortable having to hear my soon-to-be call me by such a…boring title.”

“And please, is the floor more interesting to look at than me?” You feel his cold hands lift your chin up, his eyes crinkling as he smiles again. “I missed looking at your face. Ever since I became Emperor, I hardly had the time to visit your chambers.” His fingers inch towards your cheek, before cupping your cheek. 

You try to refrain from scowling. 

“Alexander-”

“Alexi.” He corrects you, and you bite your tongue. 

You open your mouth before he shushes you, his eyes trained on your lips, before pulling away, instead opting to hold a knife instead as he expects the sharp blade. You gulp, and he smiles at your nervousness. 

“I…I think I lost my appetite, Alexi.” You try to refrain from stammering. You weren’t scared-you weren’t, you weren’t, you weren’t-

“But you haven’t even touched your food.” 

His black eyes regard you coldly, and you think dully that he must be having another moodswing. That happened often, at the strangest times too. But it also happened more when he was jealous, when he was sickeningly insecure of himself that he latched onto you to try and stave off those feelings of his. 

“C’mon, beloved. Why don’t you atleast have a sip of your wine?” He tilts his head, pushing a gold chalice in your hands. Your palms are clammy, and you think you're visibly sweating. You grab the chalice in your hands shakily, and he rewards you with a kiss on the cheek, even if it makes you feel disgusting and dirty inside. 

“My attendants told me you’ve been talking to some of those absolutely wretched servant friends of yours.” Alexi places down his knife, instead opting to take a drink of his wine as he hums thoughtfully and your blood runs cold. 

“You know that I’m easily jealous, my beloved.” The words roll off his tongue like poison, but he doesn’t look at you, instead swirling his cup around and examining the contents inside. 

“I-I’m sorry. I was just lonely-” 

He clicks his tongue, silencing your apologies with a wave of his hands. “To say that I’m disappointed is an understatement, my beloved. But I forgive you.” He grins, and gazes at your cup with a slight curl to his lip. “So just drink and be merry, my dear.”

Alexi looks at you intently as you gaze into the contents of your cup, the liquid reflecting your face as you gaze into it with a frown. Alexi places his head on his palm, watching you with some sort of sick glee that makes your stomach drop and makes your head spin. 

You take a sip and almost throw up.

It's thick and visceral, and the taste of iron floods your mouth and clogs your senses. You throw the cup away from you, the wine–no, the blood, seeping onto the red carpets. It doesn’t make much of a difference though, and you collapse on the ground as you try to cough up the blood that you had just drank. Alexi chuckles softly, and you can hear the faint sound of screeching as he gets up from his chair and makes his way over to you, kneeling down and making his pointed, iron-heeled boots stained red. 

“Oh, please don’t look at me with such a face, beloved.” Alexi blushes as you scowl at him, slapping away his hand as he tries and wipes off the blood still stained on your lips. He chuckles, black eyes filled with a sick sort of delight. 

“You know I get jealous easily, my beloved. I just wanted to drill it in that sweet head of yours who you really belong to.” He grins, and you want to puke. 

You never even liked wine in the first place.

[nunalastor]

for your consideration: lucifer waking up after a night of drunken debauchery with the sheets bunched up over his chest, then looking over and expecting to see the radio demon who he's been flirting with all night only to find susan the cannibal taking a drag out of those long cigarette holders

[icaruien]

I'LL LOOK AFTER YOU.

nanami didn't make a habit of being someone's saviour but if it's you, he's willing. he's so, so willing.

CONTENT WARNING! bottom!nanami kento x top!male reader. age gap (left up to interpretation), daddy kink (kento receiving), praise kink (reader receiving). was supposed to be some kinky stuff, but ended up being soft (per yuan typical writing style), which means there's actually minimal sex? dude, i don't know either. it's just massive comfort energy, bro, i'm so tired.

dedicated to the one and only @lofi-er. i hope you're feeling better <3

nanami knew better than to paint himself as a saviour. perhaps once, when he had been younger, blinded by the craving to be good and to do good, he would have considered himself one. but he couldn't save everyone, could only minimise damage. he knew this, learned this all the hard way.

perhaps that was why he was so desperately protective of you— still so young, still so close to your youth, and already loaded with the sort of sorrow that turned you into a loaded gun. all it would take was just one wrong move, one wrong look, and you would be set off; violently, brutally, cruelly.

you were still a child.

except, you weren't, really. not anymore. you had grown up, robbed of your childhood, and now you had left those years when you could still reclaim it. you were an adult, in all the ways that mattered— but all he could see was another one of their youths, stripped from their golden years.

and he wasn't a fixer. his hands were built to kill and to protect, but he was never made to fix. maybe, in another life, he could learn to become one, but not in this one. in this lifetime, he was a soldier, no matter how he much he tried to hide it. he wasn't a teacher, wasn't a healer. he was a man with callouses from his weapons, with blood in the place of soft skin and tender love.

but you never needed such gentleness. you were just like him, in a way— taught violence before you were ever taught love, taught to kill before you were ever taught to cradle, taught to be a soldier before you were ever taught to be a man. a yearning maw parted open in his chest at the sight of you, the realisation that you had become every single thing that he failed to protect you from a sharp knife to the gut each time.

perhaps that was the reason why he allowed you to do such things to him— indulgence of carnal pleasure; acts of debauchery that left him feeling drunken and you wholly intoxicated.

each touch of his lips against your skin was an apology, each whisper of your name was a seeking for repentance. you should not have had to endure that, and he had failed you. he could not save you in time—but perhaps, he could heal the wounds time had left upon your skin, etched upon your soul.

your nails dug into his skin, and a loud hiss escaped from between his clenched teeth. his hand reached out blindly, threading through the strands of your hair. it was slightly matted, wet from the shower you had just had when he arrived, and he pulled your head close to the crook of his shoulder. he buried your face against his skin as if it would protect you, as if he could make things right.

"that's right," he whispered, breath fanning against the shell of your ear. your resounding whimper tasted sweet in his mouth. "you're doing so good."

you let out a wet sound; a choked laugh, a strangled sob. "i thought you don't give out compliments," you said, your voice strained.

"i don't," he replied. "i make observations."

"was that an observation, too?" your voice was quiet, holding such a boyish naïvety. he wanted to protect you from the world. "me being good?"

"yes."

"oh."

"you're always good for me," he continued. "my perfect boy."

"oh."

he couldn't have possibly imagined the way you swelled where you were buried inside of him, pulsing against his walls. he shifted, fixed the angle, nudged his own prostate with the tip of your cock. there was barely enough time for you to stifle the sound that you made. it was fine. he liked hearing you, anyway.

it was quiet for a long moment beyond the sound of skin against skin, lube squelching with each of your slow thrusts. it wasn't anything at all like the animalistic sex that you would indulge yourself in with him; when you would pin him against the mattress, his wrists crossed over the small of his back, as you made him say who was making him feel so good, as you demanded him to tell you how his baby was doing so well in making daddy feel so good, oh fuck. god, baby, you're perfect. you're daddy's good boy.

no, these moments were different; quieter, more contemplative. he had more time to breathe, to think, and you had more time to hold him close, to use his warmth as an anchor. it was especially common for these moments to occur after a long mission, when you were held taut with whatever burdens you carried home alongside your victory.

he didn't know what happened to you this time, and he didn't care to ask. the higher ups no doubt knew, but he didn't want to hear it from them. you had been robbed of too much. if you were willing to share it with him, then he would gladly devour it greedily. but it must come from your hand, you must be the one feeding him.

so, he simply indulged himself in this togetherness with you. his back was on the mattress, his legs wrapped around your waist. his hands were clinging to you by your shoulders, toying with the end strands of his hair. missionary— intimacy, perhaps, or simply trust. he wanted to look at you, and you wanted to look at him.

your thrusts were slow, but they weren't at all lazy. your hands were all over his face; cupping his jaw, carding back his bangs, cradling him close. this wasn't rare either, and he simply leaned into each of your touch. he encouraged you, murmured sweet nothings into the hazy air hanging between you.

there was no rush. you needed to be grounded, and he was all too willing to allow himself to immerse into his moment. because when he got like this, when he would take care of you, he didn't need to be nanami kento—burdened by his past and failures; burdened by his future and hopes. he simply had to be your daddy, the person who held you close to him, the person who praised you for every little good thing you had done, the person who you looked up to and who cared for you in return.

and it was easy. so, so easy to love you.

your hand moved to brush over his under-eye, and he knew already what you were going to say before you say it. "you've got bags under your eyes," you murmured. "have i been worrying you?"

"a little bit," he admitted.

a pause. "i'm sorry."

"don't be." he reached up, tilted your head low, pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. "i don't mind worrying over you."

"it's not good though." you nudged against his chin, like an affectionate cat. a smile creased his lips. "daddy's worried about everything. he shouldn't have to worry about his baby."

"if daddy's worried about everything, then he should be especially worried about his baby," he corrected. his hand moved to brush the hair out of your eyes. "alright? i'm serious."

"i am, too. you're worried enough about everything. you needn't worry about me, too."

so stubborn.

"i like worrying about you," he corrected himself. once again, he pressed his lips against your skin—your jaw, this time. he could still see your sceptical expression, and he huffed. "i'm serious."

you shook your head, lazily fucking into him the whole while. "daddy's so weird," you said, scrunching his nose. "he's lucky his baby likes him so much."

"lucky me, indeed," kento agreed, bumping his forehead lightly against yours. you giggled, soft and quiet, and kento felt something warm blaze in his chest. "does my baby need anything from me?"

"no." this time, when you pressed your face against his throat, it was all your doing. "just hold me? wanna feel you while i make daddy feel good."

"alright." kento obliged, arms moving to wrap around your torso. he felt you nuzzle against him, and he allowed himself a little laugh. he pat you over the back of your head, earning himself a soft moan in response.

in between lazy thrusts and your lips latching against his skin, soft bites peppered in between fragile kisses, he heard you whisper, "i'm still your good boy, right? even when i do something wrong. i'll just have to make you forgive me, then i'll always go back to being your good boy, right?"

kento shook his head, held you tighter, pressed a kiss to the space behind your ear. this sort of question had stopped being alarming a long while ago. this was guilt speaking, an age-old, well-worn, intimately-familiar kind of remorse that even kento was well aware of himself. it was a kind of sorrow they couldn't entirely part themselves with, part themselves from. it was ingrained into their soul, next to the bone and the marrow and the heart and the lungs.

"that's right, baby," he whispered. "you'll always be my good boy as long as you're willing to be."

you whimpered, a soft trembling sound. kento wanted to protect you from everything wrong in this world. "i want to be daddy's good boy forever, then."

"okay," he said simply, because that was okay. because permanence wasn't so terrifying when his baby was the one speaking about it. because impermanence was scarier than the idea of eternity if you were involved in the equation. "then you can be my good boy forever."

your arms spasmed around him, holding him tighter. kento wanted to cry. "you promise?"

"i promise," he whispered.

[needforfidelity]

wanna bounce on a priests cock while he reads his favourite bible verses to me :(

galatians 5:19-21 - "the acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity, and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions, and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. i warn you, as i did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God."

[queers-gambit]

Dornish Wine, Weddings, and Bruised Knuckles

prompt: your best friend's getting married and you've got a thing for her brother. during the bachelorette party, you learn maybe your affection wasn't so one-sided after all.

pairing: Modern Aemond Targaryen x female!reader also Helaena Targaryen x Cregan Stark

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 11.1k+

warnings: modern AU, cursing, male-centric aggression, mild violence, (more) against-a-wall smut, author uses writing as therapy so theres way too many details, implied character-age-up (they're all legal to drink), barely edited so be nice, author probably missed some warnings!

Dorne wasn't just the Seventh Kingdom that withheld against conquest the longest, but now extremely notorious for their epic party scene, luxury resorts, sex-positive atmosphere, and overall debauchery. Dorne was lively, Dorne was hip, Dorne was ever-changing and always current. Dorne set trends, created challenge, and showcased their always-evolving lifestyle. Dorne was bright, colorful, tropical, and forever warm to the bone; being the ideal hot-spot for those who had money to spend.

Dorne was where everything happened.

Dorne was the place to be.

Dorne was exactly the thing you needed after finishing an over-worked, grueling finals season at your university.

When you and your best friend met for coffee nearly a full year ago to tell you she and her fiancé were thinking of a destination wedding in Dorne, you felt your excitement spike to never-before-reached heights. You would've been ashamed at how fast you jumped at the chance to travel, but you didn't have the time! You've never been to Dorne, hardly anywhere really, but going to university in the country's capital meant you interacted with a lot of international peers. Many who told you endless stories about their drunken foolishness in the Seventh Kingdom, driving up your interest and want to visit.

And now the time had finally come.

"My family's already there," Helaena told you softly; both sitting in the exclusive first class cabin after boarding the aircraft, "so we'll have transport when we land, so we just have to worry about our luggage."

You nodded at her, "Sounds good."

She offered you a look, laughing, "Just say it - I know you want to."

You glanced up and down the aisle of the plane before quickly squealing and jogging in place, "This is so fucking cool!" Helaena laughed as you calmed down, telling her, "I feel so fucking fancy right now, you have no idea! I can't believe your dad's doing all this!"

You and Helaena were traveling together because you, one, you were her bridesmaid, and two, you had a similar final exam schedule; both pursuing advanced degrees that kept you wildly busy. So her family went ahead to the resort to make sure everything was as it needed to be, and now that you were both done with exams, you were heading for Dorne to kick off 10 full days of wedding shenanigans.

When you calmed down, Helaena asked with a small smirk, "You gonna be okay?" You held up a pill bottle with an eye roll, giving it a shake; emitting a rattle. "Oh, no... No, no, no, no, no, don't take an Ambien. You're gonna be so delierious when we get there!"

"I either drug myself now or you clean anxious puke off your lap later..."

She handed you her water bottle.

The entire craft was in the air within minutes; being able to recline your seat since you were flying fancy, covering up with the blankets the pretty flight attendant offered. With earbuds in, you let Helaena lift the arm rest to lean her head on your shoulder in a snuggle, shutting your eyes, and that was honestly that.

Sure, when you woke, you were groggy and a little confused, but when you remembered where you were, all sleepiness evaporated into vibrating-excitement. You were allowed to disembark first, grab your luggage, and instantly located the sleek, tinted SUV that Helaena's father had sent for you.

Long gone were any Ambien side effects, your heart elated by the sights of Dorne you drove past. Oh, it was all so beautiful. So new. So stunningly busy. "Here!" Helaena beamed, holding her phone up and making you both pose for couple of sillier selfies before smiling sweetly for the camera for another few saved photos.

"Look, look!" You gasped, pointing to the street vendors. "That man actually has a snake on a leash! Holy shit!"

"Pretty normal here, Miss," the driver spoke stoically.

Helaena laughed, "This is so cool! Look, look at those!"

"Oh, we'll have to come back," you grinned, looking at the array of handmade purses and bags another vendor was selling. The rest of the ride was very similar, just the two of you gasping and grinning and pointing out everything you found interesting or alluring.

Upon arrival to the Sun Spear Spa and Resort (and Casino), you were blown away by the immaculate detail and decor. It was open, breathable, modern, and vast. There were three pools, direct and private beach access, six different restaurants, guided tours, several different bars planted in every corner of the resort. The walls were high, and inside, it was like stepping into a whole new world; lush green plants spewing everywhere; glass ceilings that let in all the light; marble flooring and a light perfume in the air.

"Hi," you beamed at the concierge. "We're checking in for the Stark-Targaryen wedding."

"Hi, welcome, welcome to Sun Spear! May I have your names?" The man asked in an upbeat tone, typing when you told him. He smiled and revealed, "The rest of your party has already arrived, but I have here your key cards." He handed Helaena a tiny envelope with her set of keys before offering you the same. After consulting the room numbers, you thanked the man with the name tag 'Robb' before rushing for the elevators.

"Can you believe it!?" Helaena squealed.

"Barely," you laughed, pouting dramatically. "Awh! Feels like yesterday I was introducing you and Cregan. Now we're checked into the resort you're getting married at, and it honestly doesn't feel real yet."

"Maybe it'll sink in later," she mused, moving to enter the elevator when the doors opened - but stuttered in step. "BROTHER!"

You gasped when Helaena surged past you to launch into someone's arms and knock them both half a step back onto the elevator. After a stunned moment, you recognized the long white hair adorned with a leather strap and felt your stomach plummet. You know how people say 'butterflies in my tummy' when talking about the person they like? Yeah, no, the sentiment is understood and appreciated but it's not entirely accurate. It was more like an anxious stomach-sinking feeling; churning, nauseating almost.

You smiled politely when Helaena let go and Aemond glanced up at you. He spoke your name cooly, blinking twice before seemingly remembering where he was. "Here," he offered, reaching out of the elevators to grab your suitcases.

"Thanks," you tried to laugh lightly, luggage all loaded into the death machine.

"'S good to see you," he directed at you, Helaena leaning into his side. "You look nice."

You waved him off, "Oh, you're so sweet, but you're obviously lying. I'm in my airport clothes, just spent, like, 8 hours on a plane, and I know I look as tired as I feel."

"Still," he eased softly, "beauty doesn't know tired." You didn't get to answer his compliment because when you got to Helaena's floor, the doors opened to reveal a grinning Cregan - it being obvious she had texted him and he came to greet her.

"They're so fucking cute," you whispered.

"A little too cute," Aemond answered at the same level; you both sharing a smirk.

After brief greetings to Cregan and parting words to the couple with promises to text everyone later with plans, you and Aemond continued on your way to your floor in the elevator. "You don't have to walk me to my room, you know," you told him softly.

"I know, but what kinda guy passes on the opportunity to aid a pretty lady?"

"Oh, that was smooth," you teased, snorting in amusement. "I'll give you that one."

"C'mon," he eased, the doors opening again and the pair of you striding out. "I'm actually in the room next to you, looks like," he glanced at his own door as you used your key card.

"Good, I'll have someone to help do my hair," you teased, letting him pass because he held everything and you, only your purse. Hey, he offered!

Aemond chuckled, setting your belongings down and dismissing himself, "I'll let you get settled and see you later, yeah?"

"Yeah, I just want to wash the travel off me. Wanna meet in the lobby before dinner tonight?"

"Why don't I just pick you up and we go down to dinner together?"

"Woah, but it's such a long walk for you. I don't want you going out of your way," you snickered, watching his lips twitch in a grin.

"I'll see you tonight, sweetheart."

When Aemond slipped out of your room, you giggled to yourself. You just couldn't help it; hands clasping together in glee and merriment over the banter you exchanged; feeling so very girly, and while so silly, it was a welcomed feeling. And did he ask you out? No, not really, but you couldn't help but romanticize his offer to pick you up before the family dinner that evening.

You ripped open your suitcase and the chaos began; being the only person in your room meaning throwing around what you wanted wherever you wanted without disturbing others. You brought way too many clothes but you were glad you did - needing options for the different events.

You picked an outfit, scurried into the bathroom, gawked at the interior for a long moment (it was a huge bathroom for a single room), and then got the shower turned on to heat up. In the meantime, you laid out your toiletries and products and tools, then stepping into the hot shower and literally moaning from relief.

"Ohhhhh yeaaaah, baby, that's it!" You groaned through a laugh. "Is this what water pressure is? Shit, this is nice. Gods bless it," you turned so the stream was on your chest, humming again. "I can't go home ever again, can I? Nope, probably not. This kind of water pressure would literally injure a child in King's Landing, they'd never allow this kind of luxury."

You tweaked the knob, upping the temperature, and sighing when the steam swirled around you; moaning again. You were unaware that Aemond had double-backed, pausing at your door when he heard you and swallowing harshly. He glanced down and glared at the tent pitching in the front of his jeans, but then you moaned again and his single eye fluttered shut. He retreated to his room before he spent his load right then and there.

You've never done this before, but that shower was so mesmerizing, you were in there for 56 straight minutes - with zero regrets. And now, you had the distinct pleasure to prepare for dinner with your best friend's family; including her brother, who you were deeply attached to; wildly attracted to; and wanted to impress by looking more than good tonight.

You wanted to look delectable. You wanted to look stunning. You wanted to be looked at as if a five-course meal.

With that in mind, you stepped out of the shower and got to work.

Three definitive knocks announced his arrival, and honestly, you could've cried from anxiety. You figured you couldn't wait much longer after doing a fourth once-over in the mirror, couldn't look any better if you tried, and proceeded to yank the door open. "Hey," you chirped, readjusting your earring back.

"Shit," Aemond blinked as his single eye raked you up and down; leather eyepatch matching his leather belt and shoes. His button-up was black, unbuttoned at the top to show off his two thin silver chains, both at varying lengths; wearing easy black jeans.

"Hi," you mused, purse under your arm as you made sure to shut the heavy door after checking your keycard was where you needed it to be. "You look handsome, loving the monochromatic look."

"It's one of the many colors gracing my wardrobe," Aemond teased. "And if anyone should have a compliment, it's you, doll, I mean, just wow," his hand snatched yours to hold onto yours fingers and gave you a twirl while whistling. "This dress is a little short, no? Not that I'm complaining, I just know Aegon..." He teased, still holding your hand to yank you into his side; arm lazily tossing around your shoulders as he moved you off for the elevators.

"Your brother isn't a worry of mine," your eyes rolled, "not since I caught him..."

"Doing?"

"Nothing," you sang, punching the elevator door rapidly.

"Hey, now," he turned you so you were pressed to the cold, metal doors, "if it's about my family, I have a right to know."

"Only if it's dangerous or otherwise," you breathed. "Trust me, he's not in trouble, he's just... Busy...?"

"Where did you catch him?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Does to me."

"You're gonna make fun of him, no."

Aemond sighed, hearing the metal contraption arrive and easily stepped back; pulling you with him just as the doors opened behind you. He simply held your wrists and then drove you backwards, chuckling to himself when you pouted up at him and yanked your hands from his. "Still don't like your personal space invaded, huh?" He laughed, giving you space after hitting the lobby's floor.

"Who the fuck does?"

He nodded in agreement. "Where did you catch Aegon?"

Your eyes rolled, "Nope."

When you arrived in the lobby, you and Aemond were still bickering back and forth; all the way to the restaurant of choice that evening. You ran into Jace and Luke - Aemond's nephews - but didn't wait for them to join you; understanding the tension due to Luke's recklessness costing Aemond's eye.

"Hey," you mumbled to him when he went rigid about the lads, "you're okay. You're gonna be okay, it's okay, just ignore them."

He huffed hot air through his nose, nodding stiffly, and then following you to the reserved "party room" - being a private dining patio. When you arrived, there was a round of cheering, both you and Aemond being greeted, and when you looked, there was only 4 seats - both beside one another.

"Here," Aegon beamed, tugging the chair beside him out.

"C'mon," Aemond whispered, leading you to your chair; pulling it out, offering you to sit before he joined. Before you sat, you greeted Aegon, taking the advantage to whisper in his ear,

"Secret's still safe but Aemond knows something's up." You offered him a pointed look before smiling at Aemond and taking the seat he offered you. Beside you was Aemond and Helaena, and beside him, you and Aegon; Cregan on Helaena's side and Robb Stark on Aegon's other side.

After Jace and Luke arrived, the toasting began. Wine was poured, helpings dolloped to plates, cutlery scraped plates, and over it all, Alicent stood to her feet, "Well," she sighed, nodding at the table, "just let me say: welcome to the wedding of my daughter, Helaena, and her incredible fiancé, Cregan, who I believe has always been meant to join our family. I speak on behalf of my husband," she smiled at her decrepit husband, "Viserys, and I, and we just want to thank everyone who came all this way. Welcome to the start!"

After the obligatory sip, she offered, "Any others?"

The table glanced at one another, so, you stood and cleared your throat. "I'd like to offer a toast," you smiled as Alicent sat. "Watching Helaena and Cregan in the time we've all been friends has truly, truly, truly been a one-of-a-kind experience because how often do you get to witness two people who are meant to be, find each other? Like a puzzle, they are two halves of a whole, and while perhaps a little rough around the edges, still has a perfect fit. Thank you for inviting me, but mostly, thank you, Cregan," you smiled at the groom, "for being a one-of-a-kind man, because our Helaena deserves the absolute best. It brings us all peace and joy to know she will be loved and protected - as she deserves. However," you paused, "I also want to thank Helaena because, as friend to you both, it's been refreshing to see my mate be treated as he deserves, too. To Helaena and Cregan - our perfect puzzle pieces!"

Another round of applause and sips of wine.

Viserys toasted Cregan's strength and Helaena's bravery - saying they made a handsome couple. Something that made Aemond's eye meet your own with soft smiles.

Best man, Harwin Strong, toasted the beauty of young Helaena and how a "sorry sod" like Cregan would never deserve a woman like her, but so long as neither of them forgot that, everything should work out. You felt Aemond's pinky finger reach out to stroke your own resting on the table, and again, you met his gaze with a much shier attention than before.

Sansa Stark thanked everyone for the amazing time so far, loving their generosity and attention to detail. She toasted to loving your best mate first, how that will always make for a much better relationship; and how Helaena and Cregan just make having a relationship look easy, it was truly inspiring. This time, however, Helaena started to tear up a little and you reached into your purse to produce tissues for her; missing the way Aemond stared at you with a longing expression. Yet Aegon did not, nudging his brother and muttering, "Just ask her out already, for fuck's sake. She's not gonna bite."

Aemond swatted him away, taking a much longer pull of wine than the others taking an obligatory sip of wine.

A few others gave speeches, too, but you were drastically annoyed by Jace and Luke, sitting with their girlfriends, all snickering together over any and every congratulatory sound. They thought they were being quiet, yet they were anything but; the entire table eventually hearing them and offering glares that went ignored by the youngsters. You felt tension rolling off Aemond in suffocating waves, frowning when you noted a few Starks exchange unamused looks at the show of blatant disrespect. You were just about to open your mouth to tell them off when all of a sudden, after groomsman, Robb Stark, sat down, Aemond's fist punched the table to aid his standing movement.

He played it off by fluidly lifting his goblet.

"Final tribute," he spoke stoically, staring directly across the table at his nephews, "before we turn to our meals this evening, is hoisted in honor of the entire Targaryen brood. Tonight, we do not mourn the loss of a sister, but the gain of a brother, and I think it only fair we offer the same curtesy they've always shown us - respect."

"Aemond," Alicent warned.

"You've shown us all what love is," he told the couple. "How to keep it alive, how to remain level, patient, kind, resolute, and how to compromise." His eye flickered to yours, continuing, "Making us all envy the connection... The friendship you share, the time spent together - growing and nurturing one another. It's not everyday you're able to marry the right person at the right time," he half smirked, "someone you think understands you better than anyone else." He blinked, then cleared his throat, "And yet, I've always heard there's no bond like that of family - those you share blood with. Tonight, it wasn't Cregan who proved me wrong..."

"Aemond, don't," you mumbled when you heard Helaena sigh sadly.

"Hm," he seemed to change his mind, and instead, raised his cup in the air. "To my sister, the most beautiful bride and her very own Prince Charming - to Helaena and Cregan! May it be a long and happy marriage that we continue to envy through the ages."

"Here, here - "

"But also to our nephews, Jace and Luke," Aemond cut off the responses - the entire table stilling with confusion.

"Us?" Jace asked softly, "What for, Uncle? We are not the ones getting married."

"Well, since you found it appropriate to whispering during every speech, I figured why not just give you the attention you so obviously need."

The younger crowd at the table all oooh'ed in union while the older adults tried to diffuse the tension. You simply reached out to grab Aemond's elbow and pull him back into the chair beside you; frowning when he only smirked. "That wasn't very nice," you reprimanded softly.

"Needed said," he shrugged.

Alicent and Rhaenyra, mother of Jace and Luke, Aemond's older half-sister, were bickering in anger about Alicent's son disrespecting her own - but Alicent countered that Nyra's sons disrespected her daughter by their chattering. The tension melted into the night, everyone moving about their business; seemingly sweeping the tension under the rug, dishing up dinner and starting fresh conversation.

Your own peaceful talk with Cregan's uncle, Ned Stark, was interrupted when you jumped as a hand boldly laid on your mid-thigh. You covered your surprise with a dab of your cloth napkin to your mouth, looking discreetly to the warm fingers grasping your flushing flesh; then trailing your gaze up to the owner of said hand. Aemond casually ate with his other hand, a smirk pulled on his lips; never looking down at you, but wriggling his hand a little to make you squirm.

It felt so fucking good to be touched by him like this.

Even if it was minimal, fleeting; barely there and never-lasting. You savored the feel, the heat, the way a single, simple touch made your stomach twist in knots and heat to flush your skin.

However, when his hand slid up your thigh to push the hemline of your dress - your hand slapped down to halt his movements. You moved his hand back down to your limit, patted twice, and let go, distracted by Ned Stark's alluring baritone, accented voice. He took the hint and only touched you at your limit, still too casual for your liking; leaving you alone in your burning-desire state. If only you knew that Aemond was having just as hard a time as you - thinking you had the softest skin he's ever held before.

Soft, shaved - or is it waxed? - moisturized, and basically calling to him that he needed to get a handful. He helped himself.

You almost moaned when he curled his finger to your inner thigh; an embarrassing gush of arousal seeping from your cunt at the slightest movement from the handsome, silver-haired, one-eyed dickhead known as your best friend's brother. Yet you didn't give him the satisfaction of reacting beyond that, all too happy to listen to the others chatter away. He didn't push you too far, and yet, never once removed his hand - almost entranced by the feel of your warmth.

When dinner was brought out, Helaena and Cregan stood and everyone - yes, everyone this time - silenced themselves to listen. Sitting back in your chair, you slowly let both your hands come around Aemond's one; just holding his forearm as you listened to your besties thank everyone for their efforts and appearance during their nuptials.

When he didn't shy away from your show of silent affection, you let your hand drift to hold his bare wrist; frowning when his arm contracted in movement. However, your frown turned into an easy, relieved smile when he only moved to fold his hand into yours; fingers interlaced, resting on your lap to let your other hand cover your conjoined ones.

"And to my beautiful bride," Cregan purred, turning to Helaena, "I hope this is all you've ever wanted, exactly as you've imagined it... Because giving you the wedding of your dreams is top priority. To see your friends and family come together has been truly incredible, and I hope the rest of these celebrations are exactly that - a celebration as you've always dreamt it'd be. I'd give you whatever you'd ask for, you know," he grinned, the hand in your tightening. When you met Aemond's eye, Cregan continued, "You're all I could've dreamed of, and at the end of this week, we'll have the rest of our lives together - something I only ever thought was possible in my dreams. You're all I want in this life, and I'll spend the rest of ours being worthy of you."

Aemond squeezed your hand, you returning it as you beamed at your best mates kissing; the table cooing at their adorable antics while you snuck a glance at Aemond. His head was cocked down at an angle, smiling down at you, looking all too soft and kind for his usual demeanor. You couldn't look away once you made eye contact, staring at one another, lips slowly curling in a bright grin as his hand tightened in yours.

The following evening breezed in with the tropical wind, and after an hour and a half, you were pecking off room service platters you had delivered and used plastic cups to drink the Dornish sweet wine from the bottle your friend had gone to the bar to get. Sansa Stark made sure your hair was in order before she pulled her long, red strands up in a high-teased ponytail; complimenting the way her bright Tully blue eyes were rimmed in a smudged-liner. You made sure you both ate a significant amount before starting to drink - wanting to loosen up as you finished getting ready together.

She wore something from your closet, you wore something of hers. With everything you needed in your purse, you latched your heels on and took your phones off chargers. "The cabs are here!" Sansa mocked, making you sputter a small laugh. This side of her was a breath of fresh air, knowing that truly, if anyone deserved a feel-good night out, it was Sansa.

So, you made the decision to stay sober - you know, so she could drink under a safe eye. However, after double checking for hotel key cards, ID's, cash, debit cards, the paper bag of bride-to-be merch, and whatever else you deemed necessary, you left the room, and was surprised to see some of the guys leaving their rooms, too.

"Hey," You greeted the best man, Harwin Strong, "what're you guys doing?"

"God daaaaaaamn," he whistled, "lookin' good ladies!" He smirked, looking you up and down, "We're heading out to some clubs and bars, too, princess."

Your eyes rolled in good humor, "Okay, yeah, sure, where are you really going?"

"Out," he nodded, following you to the elevators. "Seriously, there's a couple places we wanna check out. By the looks of things, y'all had the same idea, huh?"

You smiled as Sansa answered, "Yeah, it was last-minute. Kinda like a bachelorette thing."

"That explains all that, huh?" Harwin snickered, pointing at your paper bag.

"Don't be a hater 'cause you didn't think of it," you teased.

He hummed, "You both look really gorgeous tonight, by the way. Just incredible, I mean, Sansa, this dress is - just wow!"

Sansa flushed, letting you thank him for you both as she seemed a little tongue-tied. However, when you made it to the lobby, it was a semi-chaotic scene as the entire bridal party had gathered to share mutual rambunctious excitement. After joining in and greeting everyone, you set the paper bag down and started to dress Helaena in the obnoxious bridal garb.

"Here," Sansa giggled, handing out different paraphernalia to each lady, "just for a few pictures!"

Nobody objected. Robb had no problem taking a load of photos; some with you all posing and others more candid. It was all in good fun, the cab driver even offering to take a large group photo of the entire bridal party; encouraging a few different poses and giving you a thumbs up when done.

"Hey," Aemond approached you as you stood to the side and texted your mother, assuring everything was okay on your vacation, "haven't seen you since dinner last night."

"I know," you pouted lightly, "I'm sorry I've been a little MIA, we had an all-day spa day today."

"And here I was thinking you were avoiding me, huh?" He mused, but you heard the underlying insecurity to his voice.

"Not even close to the truth, Aems," you promised.

"So, uh," he glanced at the guys before back at you, asking, "it's just you ladies going out tonight, right?"

"Mhm," you nodded, trying not to break apart under his gaze.

"Without... Someone there?"

"I mean, we'll all be there, looking out for each other," you offered Aemond a confused smile, "and I'm not drinking, so I'll make sure everyone's safe."

"You think that's a good idea?"

"Why not?"

"New country plus drinking, I mean, sounds pretty accident-prone."

"We'll be okay, I'll stay sober and keep an eye out, make sure nobody breaks an ankle or two like last Halloween."

He looked at the bridal party, musing, "You're going to keep hold of five drunks?"

You paused for a long moment, not putting much thought behind logistics. "I think I can manage," you admitted with uncertainty. "They're not that bad. I mean, Arya's small enough to haul over my shoulder; Helaena never drinks too much, I think I have it covered best I can."

"You know what? I'll just come with you ladies."

"What?" You giggled, thinking you must've misheard him.

"I've already been out with the boys for the bachelor's party. You're one person trying to look after my sister and her friends. Trust me, I think you're gonna need help."

"Between us, who do you think has more experience between wrangling drunk women?"

Aemond just smirked, nodding, "C'mon, we should head out."

Figuring there was no use in arguing, you turned for the minivan and got in after the other girls. After Aemond spoke to Cregan and Robb, he got in the passenger seat, and away you went. "What's he doing here?" Rhea asked cautiously, looking guarded.

"He wants to help keep an eye on us," you smirked.

"So you're gonna keep creepy dudes away from us?"

"Sure," Aemond agreed just as his sister squealed and begged for the radio to be turned up - she absolutely loved this song!

The club had no central lighting in the warehouse styled event room. There were multicolored strobe lights that flickered and pulsed and beat in-time with the loud, blaring music that was dialed to a volume that made the floor vibrate. Trendy music played in remixed playlists, heavy speakers lining most walls that didn't host the VIP sitting area.

Sweaty bodies bumped and ground together.

There was the dance floor. Then the bar lined the entire back wall, bathrooms located to the left and a fire exit to the right. The right most part of the room, stretching wall-to-wall, was an elevated space that had separate, roped-off lounge areas; complete with velvet couches and individual tables.

"Here," Rhea waved you all after her, leading you all right up to the bouncer and being granted access. Heleana looked skeptical as she realized this was some orchestrated event, not liking the idea of being clued-out of the knowing, but still, played along with the luxury treatment. You were seated in the corner booth, and without missing a beat, Sansa was tossing you her purse and yanking Helaena to the bar with the hope that her bride-to-be apparel would earn free drinks.

"This place is nice," Jeyne tried to compliment, but you and the Stark sisters shared a bemused look. "Oh! Goodie!" She squeaked when Sansa and Helaena returned with a full tray of assorted drinks.

"So, they just filled it with all the forgotten drinks," Sansa explained, "and said it was on the house 'cause of Helaena's bachelorette shit."

"Well then," you smirked, reaching for a single shot, "a toast!" Everyone reached for a drink and hoisted it in the air. "To our dear, sweet love, Helaena, and her saying 'I do' to one helluva guy! May this marriage be long, prosperous, adventurous, and full of the love you deserve! To Helaena!"

"And Cregan!" The bride slipped in as everyone echoed their toasts to the soon-to-be-married couple. You had your one shot, and while the others filled up, you and Aemond just watched them. Jeyne, Rhea, and Sansa scurried off together, Arya seeing someone she apparently knew and running off with them, and Helaena was looking at you with a dramatic pout. "Come dance with me," she whined. "I let you convince me to come out tonight, so you have to dance with me! Before I'm a spoken-for woman!"

Aemond smirked when you spared him a look as if to beg him to rescue you, but being unable to because his sister was adamant to get you on your feet.

Everyone was buddied up and accounted for; leaving Aemond alone at a reserved table. However, he didn't mind watching purses if it meant he could turn mutely to watch the dance floor, and while the lights made it hard, his eye caught sight of you.

Helaena was having the absolute time of her life, and the women around her all seemed blissfully distracted by the alcohol in their systems. He watched you. His eye did not stray, until he realized that while he could see you, so could every other wanton eye roaming the hazy room. Aemond glanced around and saw a few VIPs smoking, figuring it was okay to light up. Out of defensive anxiety, he pulled a cigarette carton from his pocket, tapped a single filtered death stick out, fingered his lighter before pausing to light, inhale, and return his gaze back onto you.

You were lost in the music, evident that all you ladies needed some stress relief after the whirlwind that is wedding planning. He knew you weren't drinking, but seeing you laugh and toss you arms up, rolling your hips in rhythm to the music, he knew you didn't need a single drop to have a good time. He thought that was admirable, incredibly rare these days. In Aemond's experience, college kids had a hard time saying no to alcohol, and the fact that you did it so willingly felt like whiplash.

Aemond stood and neared the guard railing of the elevated section he was stationed on. His shoulder leaned into a steel support beam, staring at you for several long moments while casually smoking; perking up only a degree when you told the girls something and then started moving through the throngs of people.

You pushed up to the bar and the bartender almost immediately took your order. He figured all seemed well enough because you weren't moving from the bar yet, his gaze shifting to scan the building.

Bodies were pressed together at every inch, the smell of sweat and spilt alcohol seemingly permanently perfuming the air. It was hard to see, but after adjusting, he could make out a few faces. Nobody seemed too hair-raising, nothing suspicious, nothing out of the ordinary...

Until his eyes returned to you. The bartender was distracted doing their job, and instead of you standing peacefully, there was some guy obviously trying to flirt with you. He seemed desperate for a conversation, Aemond almost cringing from a distance as he could only imagine what kind of terrible pick-up lines this guy was using. He felt ready to move into action, but the moment the thought entered his mind, Aemond saw you gather the glasses from the bar, turn, and quite literally ignore the blonde man - who stared after you with a gobsmacked expression. Aemond smirked when the man turned to complain to his friends; holding a drink in one hand as the other gestured angrily after you.

The man's friends got a glimpse of you and laughed, slapping their friend's chest; and Aemond hoped one of them told him that a girl as pretty as you was lightyears ahead of his league.

Aemond relaxed when you returned to the party, taking a long drag when you distributed drinks to your friends. Arya had come back around with her friend, the group mingling and enjoying their new acquaintances. He noted you were empty handed, flagging a waitress down; the VIP section apparently having the luxury of being waited on to avoid the long waits at the bar. He quietly requested two bottles of water be delivered - unsealed - to their table.

His attention returned to the bridal party, only to watch a few guys join your group. Sansa and Rhea ate up the attention; leaving Jeyne and Helaena to dance alongside Arya and her friend, as the same guy from the bar holding your conversation hostage. You still looked disinterested; stoic and cold; body language assuring Aemond that you weren't receptive to the stranger. You flinched in discomfort when he had to lean in to shout in your ear just to be heard over the music, but your eye rolls told Aemond you wouldn't listen even if in a silent library.

Something in the interaction made him annoyed. It wasn't jealousy that someone was paying attention to you, standing so close and intimately; invading your space. It was something else. He could tell you weren't interested in whatever was being said, and when you turned from the man once again, obviously dismissing him to dance with Helaena and Jeyne, Aemond could see offense paint the man's face. It wasn't jealousy, but perhaps something akin to protectiveness after witnessing the way the man had approached you at the bar, and now, again, on the dance floor.

Without a single thought, Aemond was pushing off the beam and dropping his cigarette to crunch under his boot the moment the stranger reached for your upper arm to whip you around aggressively; snarling and scolding you. Aemond easily slotted through the sweaty crowd, not entirely barging through them but not exactly waiting for them all to part for him. The stranger was sneering something at you, demanding an apology for blowing him off (twice) so rudely, but you were snapping that it was rude to bombard you. To pester disinterested women. To impose. To approach an entire group of women and ruin the good vibe by simply being an intrusive, entitled man. The blonde man was just in the middle of snarling in your face how much of a "catch" he was when Aemond arrived, and without truly thinking, he reached out and tore the man away.

Aemond, while decently lanky and skinny, was ripped with defined muscle and when his anger was flared up, he was near unstoppable. So, in reality, the stranger would've been moved whether sober or not, but because this man was drunk, he nearly toppled over. As the stranger scrambled off the floor, Aemond stood protectively in front of you with his anger almost palpable, barking, "She told you to fuck off, mate."

"Oh-ho! Got a big man here, do we!?" The blonde stranger raged, his pale flesh turning a bright red from his anger and alcohol consumption. "You wanna have a go, mate, I'll fuck you up right here! Right now! Fuck you think you're doin', touchin' me like that, you fuckin' prick!?"

"She's not interested," Aemond stood his ground, "and you need to walk away - right fucking now."

"Over some stuck-up whore who won't even accept a drink? She's that much of an up-tight bitch? Too full of her-fucking-self? Man, you're wasting your time, chicks like that don't know a nice guy even when he hits her."

"As if any woman in their right mind would accept a drink from you," Aemond sneered, looking the man up and down. "You got ears? You speak the Common Tongue? Turn around and fuck off - the ladies aren't interested."

"Like I'm listening to some one-eyed, pussy-boy - "

"Aemond!" You yelped, shoving yourself in front of him when you saw the impending danger. You knew his injury was off-base; not a topic of conversation anyone dare engage in. The fact this stranger honed in on it so easily was triggering in the worst way imaginable. "Hey, hey, hey, he's not worth it. Hey, c'mon, don't let it get to you this bad. It's okay. Aemond, c'mon, let's just walk away."

"Listen to your bitch, mate! She's not even fuckin' worth it! What kind of a guy wants to parade around with some whore? Wearing something like that for everyone to see! What's wrong, princess?" He directed at you. "He don't give you enough attention? Huh? You gotta find it anywhere else, don't'cha, why else dress like that - huh!?"

By now, a small crowd had formed and the blonde, drunk stranger was being egged on and riled up by his mates. "Don't," you repeated to Aemond, perfectly all too used to men's reaction when women reject them or simply didn't get what they want.

"Walk away," Aemond repeated, his veiny hands moving to hold your arms as if it would physically restrain him; your hands on his waist to keep him anchored.

"Man, what the fuck ever. Not even worth it," he scoffed.

"Then why do you keep talking?" Sansa drunkenly snapped from behind Aemond's broad shoulders.

"Fuck did you say, bitch!?"

Aemond sighed and tugged you behind him, stepping up to the drunk blonde man; lowering his tone to mutter something as he stood between you ladies and the lads in tacky Hawaiian-print button-ups. You're not sure what was said, but Aemond seemingly had the last word; watching him turn back for you lot and instantly start checking that each of you was truly okay.

Aemond gently caressed Helaena's cheek, muttering, "You good?"

She nodded, but then, her eyes widened and she squeaked when the stranger charged Aemond from behind, shouting his name in warning. "Shit!" You yelped when he dodged out of the way just as the man threw a wild punch.

Nobody could've stopped the fight if they tried.

You made sure to herd the women close as Aemond dodged two more throws, his long platinum hair swinging as it fell out of its bun before he found his opportunity. Aemond strategically waited until the blonde stranger was open to throw his weight behind his fist colliding with the drunk man's cheekbone.

The crowd of people around you all 'ooohed' in union, wincing when Aemond, again, knocked his fist into the man's jaw and, again, sent him sprawling to the floor. One of the friends managed to sneak in and land a blow on Aemond's cheek, but his head only barely turned with the impact. His eye locked onto the new target, and not a minute later, the other guy was nursing a broken nose.

Aemond glanced around for any other contenders, sighing when there were none - just a cloud of jeering drunks voicing their approval towards the violence. "Hey," you begged again, his eye finding your worried face, "you done now? Can we get you cleaned up?"

Sansa stepped up, stating, "We can go if you guys want - we don't have to stay!"

"No, just... Stay outta trouble," Aemond sighed. "I'll be up there," he gestured back at the elevated VIP section. You hated seeing him shoulder his way through the rowdy crowd who had already forgotten about the fight.

You shook your head, grabbing Helaena's arm and leaning into her ear, "I'm gonna check on Aemond. Don't go anywhere, stay with the girls!"

"I will!" She agreed, letting Arya push another shot in her hand. You turned and grumbled when bodies began bumping into you instantly; your jaw clenched to keep upright. You had to eventually shove a few people out of your path, but didn't care, jogging up to the VIP section and looking around. When you got back to your table, Aemond was sitting with his head tilted back, eye closed, smoking another cigarette, ice on his slightly reddened hand.

"Aemond?" You checked, announcing your presence as you took the seat beside him; scooting closer. "The fuck was that? Gettin' in fights in the club, Alicent wouldn't be proud," You spoke gently, readjusting his ice so it was actually over the swollen area.

"Just guys being dudes, dudes being guys," he mused, free hand holding his cigarette to speak as he exhaled. "Why're you up here?"

"I wanted to check on you."

"I'm fine, you can go back - "

"Aemond," you snipped, "I'm fine here. I needed a break, and I wanted to check on you."

He nodded towards the table, "Water's for you."

You glanced over, finding the two water bottles amongst an array of items on the tabletop. One unopened, the other cracked and partially drank. "Thank you," you spoke sincerely, waiting until his eye met yours, "for the water and for defending me back there. I owe you one."

"I only did what a gentleman should do," he sighed.

"Wasn't worth bruising your knuckle, was it?"

"I'd actually say it was necessary," he spoke like it was easy. You hated that, how he seemed fluent in flirting but you knew he wasn't really. Why would he? Aemond Targaryen made 'being perfect' look fucking perfect.

You were quiet for another moment before you blurted out, "It was pretty hot, I have to admit. Seeing you defend my honor."

He eased his cigarette to an ashtray, speaking clearly, "Wasn't gonna let him touch you." You thought that was final and just smiled softly, but then Aemond finished, "Wasn't about to let any man touch what's mine."

"Yours, huh?"

He smirked, "Why not?" His now free hand landed on your bare thigh; dress riding up when you sat down to give him access to your spa-waxed legs. "You anyone else's?"

"I'd like to think women aren't possessions."

"Yet you're the one prize I fucking need," his hand squeezed. "Don't even know what kinda gem you are, do you?"

"I think your adrenaline's got you talkin' crazy," you tried to deflect, giggling lightly. But his hand squeezed again, making you look up to meet his gaze.

"I know what I want. And I know," his hand slid up to ease up the curve of your ass, "that I'm done denying my want for you."

"Aemond," you felt drunk on his presence.

"Tell me to stop, doll, and we won't ever have to talk about it again. But if you can't," he palmed your flesh, "and you want this, too - "

Your hand grabbed his wrist to stop him, pulling his hand from under your dress, "Helaena's my best friend, and you're her brother. This is... The most taboo situation we could entertain right now."

"Hmm," he pulled his hand back, making you instantly snatch it back.

"But I can't tell you I don't feel it, too." Aemond's eye glittered in the strobe lights, feeling him pull your legs so you were nearly sat on his lap; legs laid over his so he could fully touch your thighs again. "But we can't, i-it would - this would take away from Helaena - we can't."

"I don't see her here right now," he purred, leaning in close to breath in your neck. "Tell me how long you've wanted me."

"Aemond."

"Keep sayin' my name, baby, but it doesn't answer my question."

You only managed to answer, "Too long," in a quivering voice before,

"HEY!" Sansa slurred, beaming brightly from over Rhea's shoulder as they stumbled up; giving just enough time for you and Aemond to separate. "I know you guys! Oh! I know them! Look! It's our friends!"

Rhea Royce, being just-as-drunk, gasped, "I know them, too! Oh, bless the Seven! We know you!"

"Hi," you laughed, eyeing them all with full amusement, "everyone doing okay?"

"I called our ride, they're up the street - they can't get down here 'cause of traffic," Jeyne informed with a pant, Helaena and Arya held to her body. You smiled at Aemond before getting up to gently take Helaena's weight from Jeyne, who breathed, "Thank you so much. C'mon, our ride's up there - "

Aemond grunted as he stood and offered his water to Rhea, assisting the ladies in keeping their balance in sticky-soled heels. You handed Sansa your unopened water as you held onto Jeyne, watching Aemond help Arya, Rhea, and Helaena - who needed his support.

It was a shit-show getting the group in another minivan; the only relief being when they were bribed with tacos. The ride to the resort was a total 180 compared to the ride out, as everyone knocked out except you and Aemond. A couple of times, you wondered if you should speak first but never did - being vulnerable isn't your forte.

You know what you would rather do than wrangle in five drunk girls? Specifically after a bachelorette party? Declaw wet cats. Contract measles. Be hit by a bus. Learn how to speak Latin (a dead language, for those who don't know). Go to Vegas with your entire lifesavings and lose it all. Use pliers to yank a tooth out - no dentist or anesthesia used (Ron Swanson style).

Anything would be better than this.

It took the better part of an hour for you to get all the girls out of the van, through the resort, and into Jeyne's border-line empty hotel room. Empty because the sweet, party girl from Northern University didn't unpack, and was the cleanest; the perfect place to dispose of everyone. Aemond was as helpful as ever, but he didn't do much past helping you get the women in bed; unsure how to help past that. From there, you did the rest: took off any shoes and / or glasses, plugged phones in, left water bottles and a bottle of Advil in view, and shut the curtains to grant them deliverance when the sun rose.

When done, you and Aemond snuck out of the room quietly and let the door shut behind you; leaving you in the hall. "I put Sansa's phone on FaceTime with mine," you showed him, "in case one of them throws up or needs something, and left it on the charger."

"So we should get you to your charger, right?"

"Oh," there was teasing to your tone, "worried about my battery running low?"

"Just wondering if your batteries can go all night," he smirked, picking up on your innuendo.

"Oh, good one," you teased, watching him smirk. "Thanks for helping tonight. It was nice having you watching our back."

"Yeah?"

You beamed, nodding, "For sure. I could tell Helaena had a blast."

"Good, 's what I care about," he nodded. "Listen," he cleared his throat, "I, uh... I have to make a confession."

"Aemond Targaryen wants to tell me a secret?" You teased, facing him in full-interest. "Please," you encouraged, gesturing for him to go-on.

His tongue wet his lips swiftly, "I know you're Helaena's friend and you say it's wrong, but I just... I tried not to have these feelings for you, but I can't stop them."

You smiled, "Aemond, that's the alcohol talking."

"What if I said I didn't have any?"

You blinked in mild shock, offering quietly, "I'd say you were delirious from dehydration or something. It was really hot in there, must've been sweating a lot, or maybe it's your adrenaline again!

"Why is it so far fetched for you to think I could have honest feelings for you? Truly, have you thought this was just a one-way street?"

"You're Helaena's brother," you spoke softly, sadly, "and maybe we're just - I don't know - not thinking clearly! We need to cool off - "

"No, no, I don't need to cool off, you see, because I'm thinking the clearest than ever before," Aemond shook his head, reaching for your shoulders to squeeze, and move down to hold your upper arms, squeeze again, then down to just above your elbow. "I feel as if I don't say it now, I might lose the nerve later. I've always admired you, sweetheart, and I know it's wrong, I know it's taboo and scares you, I know I'm your best friends brother, but I can't help it. You're just - this - like - fucking incredible person, who is loyal and wise and strong and knowing and open and sweet and empathetic and wickedly intelligent - "

You cut him off by surging into his arms; chest to chest, lips locked together in a passionate exchange of fierce, over-boiled emotion without a single thought towards further repercussions. There was tongue, there was teeth, there was an-ever spreading warmth that stretched from your cheeks to your toes. Aemond tasted just like he semlled - sweet, salty, just the right amount of spicy. He let you lock your hands in his hair, always knowing your affinity for his long silver mane; tugging the strands you managed to get ahold of gently to cause Aemond to moan while sucking on his domineering tongue.

Aemond was losing his mind; infected with all you were, all you are, all you would, could, and should be. The way you made him feel, the obvious care you put into others, the sweet, innocent look in your eye replaced by a haze of lust - all thanks to him. For a moment, Aemond's mind felt numb before it jolted back into reality, realizing he was kissing you. You. You were kissing him, he was kissing you. His dear, sweet, kind, ever-so-perfect sister's best friend, you - he was kissing you and you were kissing him back. Sure, he dreamt of this happening about a few dozen times but the real thing was tenfold what he ever imagined.

Holy Seven, he was kissing you.

"I take it," he panted, breaking apart before surging in for another taste of your pouting lips, "you might feel..." another kiss and a small moan, "feel the same?" He pulled back to look in your eyes, but when you didn't answer him, Aemond teased, "Oh, c'mon, princess, tell me you feel the same. Tell me I'm not makin' a fool of myself, that we're not just runnin' high from the club's fumes."

"No," you promised, "you are no fool, Aemond Targaryen; far from it, in fact. I, too, feel whatever this is, whatever is emotional, tangible, physical between us, I feel it, too, and I want you - oh!"

He didn't need to hear anything more, suffocating you in another kiss, and this time, you let him control the motions because you were unsure how far this would - or should - go. His hands squeezed over your hips, turning, and pushing you against the wall just a few steps behind you. Your moan was meek, released into his mouth; loving Aemond's taste on your tongue; and for now, you simply forgot he was your best friend's brother. Or ignored the fact.

"Shit," he panted, looking down at you before glancing down the hall, "listen, listen, listen, baby, hey, if we keep goin', I might not stop." He offered a small shrug, "Ready to bust right here, right now, if I'm honest, but I'd rather be inside you."

You considered his words for a moment; waiting for his gaze to return to you before voicing your opinion. Feeling inexplicably turned on by his earlier actions to defend you, bruising his knuckles on a stranger's jaw; how he called you his, how he touched you, and when his single violet eye turned back to you, you surprised yourself by your words, "Better make it quick, then."

Aemond smirked, "You want me to fuck you, here? Against the wall?"

"Maybe," you answered softly, letting your hand reach out to palm over his swelling cock; hearing his breathing catch and continuing, "only if you can be quick so we aren't caught and slapped with an indecent exposure charge."

Aemond did not hesitate to swoop down and slam his lips to yours; pushing his hips forward so he could grind into your palm. Hands roamed to touch, caress, squeeze until they secured your hips in a bruising grip, then dipping low to suddenly grab your thighs and hoist you up. As if you weren't turned on enough, the obvious show of strength and ease in which he held you made your cunt contract over nothing; dampening to an embarrassing level. You couldn't remember the last time someone made you feel so frantic; so animalistic; so feral that you needed to be fucked right here, right now, in this hall that was so very public.

But that was the fun: having a frenzied fuck with the looming threat someone might catch you.

You moaned like a wanton bitch in heat, core pressed against his straining member and only imaging what the feel of him would be. A whimper was ripped from your throat, gasping as Aemond grew to a knew height of desperation; turning a degree more aggressive in the way he pressed close to you, teeth scraping your lips. It was like he was trying to suck your soul through your mouth; tongues battling, hands sliding around one another as if unsure where to hold. You settled on his cheeks, finding the chiseled features alluring enough to grip; his securing your waist and base of your ribcage in a bruising grip, both moaning in pleasure and need.

"Gotta keep it down, pretty girl," he muttered with a smirk, holding you expertly so he could grind his harden, black-jean-covered member to your ever-dampening core. "Don't wanna get caught, huh? Disturb the peace, have someone hear us," he breathed against your lips, "come outta their room to check?"

You whimpered.

"Oh," he chuckled darkly, pulling back only just to look at you, "my pretty girl would like that, huh? Always knew you were a fuckin' freak."

His lips were on yours as you pawed as his belt and jeans. Aemond chuckled into the kiss, readjusting his hold on you to help; and the moment the garment was loose, you shucked his jeans to mid-thigh. All the while, Aemond leaned back in to smother your neck and shoulder with his searing-hot, teeth-raking kisses; uneven breathing making you tremble when each exhale covered your saliva-coated skin to send a shiver through your muscles.

"Aemond," you begged, riding up your dress to expose your soaking-wet, black lace thong, "just need you - now. Please, please, we don't have time for begging."

"Gotta warm you up - "

"I've been warm since you shoved that guy off me," you rushed, whimpering, "please, okay? Just fuck me. I need it, I need you. Take your time with me later, but for right now, just fuck me - I need you to fill me, Aemond."

"I gotta condom - "

"I'm on birth control - that NuvaRing is fuckin' incredible," you laughed, hearing him hum in amusement as his teeth latched down on your bottom lip enough to encourage you into another tongue-wrestling session.

After a moment, Aemond grinned and glanced down to push away any lingering fabric, lips licking yours messily; grabbing hold of his cock to line up at your core. Never before had you felt "dripping" for any man, but Aemond wasn't just any man. No, in your mind, he was The Man.

No warning was necessary for him to snap his hips forward; sheathing his hot, leaking cock in your sopping warmth in one fluid motion; piercing you. He praised in your ear, "Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," before sharing a moan; yours from absolute pleasure, and his from sheer relief. He's wanted this longer than you have, which felt impossible, but the truth was the truth. Aemond's been in love with you for what felt like an impossible amount of time.

"Shit," you begged, teeth scraping the shell of his ear, "hang on, hang on, hang on." You whimpered, "You're so fuckin' big - just a moment, please, hang on."

"'S all right, love. Take your time. I got you," he soothed, unfazed by your repeated pawing around his neck to keep your balance; sweaty palms catching his hair a few times. "Just fuckin' feel me, baby," he groaned in your ear, "and how full you feel. So fuckin' tight," he grit.

You whimpered.

The thing is, you've fucked your share of men (and women) before, but Aemond was something Godly. You felt disappointed you didn't get to physically see his glory, nor have it in your mouth, but figured there was time to admire him like a painting in the Louvre later. For now, you could only understand that Aemond was by far the biggest you've had; both in size and girth. You shuddered at the feeling of him filling you to the brim, whispering, "M-Move, please, move, just start moving, oh, my Gods. Y'Feel so fuckin' good, shit, Aemond, baby, you feel - Godsdamnit, you feel so fucking good."

Aemond did as you asked, moving his hips to drag his cockhead along your quivering walls to collect your wetness, only to push right back in; creating a languid pace as to allow you accommodation. His teeth grit tightly, "No idea what it feels like for me, sweet girl. Fuck. Who got you this wet? Huh? Who got you here? Fuckin' tell me, baby, who got you like this?"

"You, Aemond. Always you, baby, always gettin' me wet - so fuckin' wet," you babbled. "Don't even have t'do shit t'get me goin', 'M always so ready for you to have me." You felt a scream build and Aemond must've seen it because he offered you a stern look as he humped quickly into you. "Quick and quiet, right?" You complained with wide eyes, swollen lips; the perfect pout that would get you whatever you wanted from the middle Targaryen.

"Jus' for right now, can get as loud as we want later, huh?" He hissed, groaning as he readjusted his stance to increase his speed. "Hold on, princess, just hold onto me, I got us, almost there," his lips ghosted your neck before letting his teeth gnash your flesh in a show of messy dominance. "Good fuckin' girl, yes, yes," Aemond grit, flexing his jaw when he felt your arms tighten, "just hold on fa'me - can't get enough of this. Huh? Hear me? Can't ever go back, princess, not when I've had you like this - jus' fuckin' made f'me, Godsdamnit - yes, yes, yes, there's my girl, good girl, so fuckin' good for me. Shit, I don't wanna cum, I just wanna feel this pussy for as long as possible, but I can't hold it, baby, shit, I can't hold it anymore."

Your moans and grotesque sounds of Aemond's balls slapping your leaky cunt filled the hall; your mind only briefly registering the idea for a moment to let you glance up and down the hall to ensure your "privacy". Words failed you, your lungs heaving in short puffs; gripping his shoulders as if it would keep you anchored, but the truth was, his forceful hips were sending you up the fucking wall.

"Ae-Aemond," you begged brokenly, reaching for your clit and only needing to add minimal pressure; ready to shatter from the harsh thrusts your one-eyed lover provided. "I-I-I'm there. I'm there, baby, please, oh, shit!" You felt a sob lodge in your throat.

"Cum on my cock, princess," he demanded as your head tilted back to bang into the wall, sinking his teeth deep into your pulse point when exposed. "Lemme feel you, love, c'mon, just let it go. Show me - " he felt the trickling of your cum squirting out in a rare display, "oh-ho-hoooo, look at that, yes, yes, there's my good fuckin' girl. That's it, fuckin' soak me, there it is - shit, shit, oh, fuck. Grippin' me so fuckin' tight without anythin' needin' to be said. Good girl," he grunted, feeling as if stabbing through you with the way he thrusted and jackhammered his cock into your tightening cunt with each word.

Your tongue flattened against his neck, hearing his groan, and when your mouth closed down to lock your teeth over his pale flesh, sure to leave a red mark, Aemond gave a final grunt. He shuddered; hands bruising your skin as his hips stuttered once, twice, and stilled against you. Your nether region blossomed with his warmth, your lungs panting to catch your breath; feeling full as Aemond barely deflated inside you.

"Shit," you whispered.

"Yeah," he gaped in agreement, gulping harshly. "You all right, love?"

"Mhm," you nodded against him, nuzzling his cheek with your nose. "You?"

"So fuckin' good," he chuckled, glancing down the hall. "I gotta set you down, baby, 'M cramping a little. Easy does it, just hold onto me," he spoke soothingly, pulling his cock out and easing you to your feet while holding onto his neck and shoulders. "Keep my cum right there," he smirked down at you, readjusting your panties over your swollen cunt before tugging your dress back down; giving a playful slap to your clit that made you jump a little from the overstimulation. "Don't let a drop out, hmm?"

"Take that up with gravity, I got nothin' to do with it," you whined, leaning on the wall for full-support. After situating his cock back and yanking his boxers and jeans back up, Aemond dropped to a knee before you.

"Here," he whispered, lifting one of your legs to ease your shoe off. You smiled, holding onto his shoulders as he helped you remove both shoes; standing to his full height again. He looked nervous for a moment, mouth opening but closing as words evaded him.

You took mercy, smiling, "Aemond?"

"Yeah, princess?"

"Would you like to spend the night with me?"

He smirked, chuckling, "Yeah, think I would."

"Good. You get to carry me, then." Aemond grinned and moved before you realized what he was doing, swooping you into his arms. You giggled girlishly, "I need my stuff!" He glanced down at the floor to spy your shoes, purse, phone. Aemond grunted as he lowered in a squat, letting you collect your things to rest in the cradle of your belly, snickering, "You're such a show off."

"This is why we don't skip leg-day, pretty girl," he smirked, "or core day, or arm day..."

"We get it, you work out! But weren't you cramping up a minute ago?"

"Yeah, but that was then."

As he walked towards the elevator, you both heard a door open and peaked over to see one of Aemond's distant, great-uncles peaking out in confusion. "Did you guys hear that?" The older man asked hoarsely, obviously disgruntled from being woken up. "What's all that racket? We thought we could expect for a little sleep!"

You felt embarrassment flush your system, a hand slapping over your mouth - but Aemond covered, "Sorry, Uncle, the wedding parties went out drinking. Got them all safe in their rooms, except this one, though. Sorry for the noise."

He smiled, nodding as if in relief, "You're a good boy, Aemond. She all right?"

"Yes, just a little too much to drink," he chuckled, your free hand reaching over to pinch his nipple through his shirt as your other hand now hid an amused smile. "Goodnight, Uncle, there won't be other disturbances tonight."

When the elevator arrived, Aemond stepped on as this distant relative shut his door again, and as the elevator doors shut, you shared a look before bursting out in laughter. "I don't think I can face him at the wedding now," you whined lightly.

"Why not?"

"I literally have your cum dripping outta me - "

"I told you to keep it in."

You smirked, "I guess you're just gonna have to punish me, then, huh? You never did like being disobeyed, now, did you?"

Aemond laughed, his single lilac eye scanning over your face; slowly dropping in serenity. "What're we doing, baby? Hmm?" He asked quietly.

"Going to my room - "

"You know what I mean," he sighed almost sadly. When you arrived at your floor, he walked out of the elevator as you answered,

"You and I know we have feelings for each other. So, for tonight, it's just us... And we'll decide when to tell the others after we decide what it is to tell them."

"Probably best after the wedding..."

You smiled as you arrived at your hotel door, "Well, I was kinda hoping you'd be my date to the wedding?"

Aemond looked down at you with a softening expression. "Yeah?" He chuckled slightly as you opened your clutch to pull out your keycard, but his hands tightened to earn your full attention once the plastic was in your hand. "I'd... Actually really like that, too, sweetheart," he hushed, hoisting you in for another frantic kiss. The door beeped when it opened, closing with a heavy bang behind you both; forgetting Sansa was left on FaceTime... Too distracted by both being obviously turned on, it seemed, by emotional intimacy.

Perhaps not so one-sided, indeed...

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[yourplayersaidwhat]

Rich little high elf cleric: hey I’m just gonna pay in gold because I’m to lazy to split into copper.

Dm: alright, the bartender says you can drink as much as you want and he thanks you for your generosity.

Bard, who has been the instigator in almost all shenanagains: hey get like twenty and see how many you can drink

Cleric, who’s a bit of a drunk: yeah alright

Dm: really guys?

Both: yeah.

Dm: fine. The bartender gives you twenty glasses.

Cleric proceeds to drink as many as he can, until he hurls at 11, while bard places bets with the villagers. As bard drags cleric out, she turns and throws a few handfuls of cleric’s gold from out of his pouch. The villagers love them. The guards hate them.

[usedpidemo]

Knockin on heaven's door (Lee Chaeyeon)

> ​​5 minutes in heaven with chaeyeon (just something inspired by the knock mv and her being inside a wardrobe) - @idevian

——————

“God dammit.”

The worst thing about college wasn’t the outrageous student debt, nor the mountains of units and classes you needed to juggle. It was the parties. 

It was always the parties.

Not a couple of weeks passes by without some wild party hosted by some rich nepo kid. There isn’t really a reason that justifies the occasion except to celebrate for celebration's sake. An excuse to let loose and relax from the stresses of the semester; a reasonable justification—if not for the copious amount of drugs, alcohol, and sex that happens in them. Every scene plays out like a parody, an ironic twist of fate that realizes your worst assumptions and stereotypes of college after graduating high school. 

And the worst part is: no one escapes completely unscathed, not even you.

You make one thing clear: you don’t despise parties—you just didn’t want any piece of it. It stands to reason then that you usually take refuge in the many corners of the house, away from the madness and debauchery of it all. Exposure to their degeneracy proves to be near-unavoidable. You’re essentially the designated driver for your friends, who are none the wiser. Often, they’re the first ones in, last ones out. The moment they step foot inside, they basically forget your existence until dawn. They’re insufferable, but you’d otherwise remain a loner without them, for better and for worse.

In a sea of people, someone manages to spot you. It’s not the gaze of a burgeoning romance or friendship; their eyes evidently spell out drunkenness, and their zombie-like motions toward you are about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the face. A little push and pull. You suddenly find yourself being escorted to a huge circle that raises immediate red flags. Even the slightest whiff of the room laced with crack triggers your fight or flight impulses. Thankfully, it only takes the simplest and most cliche of excuses to create a path of escape.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

With their impaired judgment, you’ll soon be an afterthought to them—or at worse, a horde of makeshift zombies banging at the door. The bathroom would be too obvious. It was never the destination.

Sneaking around the crowd, you find a door conveniently tucked away from the madness and rush toward your freedom. On the other side lies complete darkness, and if not for a foot teetering on the edge of some hidden stairs, you’d be a dozen steps away from a concussion and several stitches. A hidden basement sealed away from the house, blocking most of the noise.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

As expected, the actual basement is nothing but clutters of dusty boxes and forgotten relics, with a few tiny windows hidden behind the piles. Little light peeks through the otherwise pitch black room, but a bit more exposure runs the risk of your retreat getting exposed. You’d more than happily sit here until you can weasel your way out in the morning, when everyone’s blacked out and completely fucked from party overdose, or when the rich kid’s angry parents find you sleeping on the floor. 

You’ve taken overnight shelter in far worse, unforgiving places. 

Suddenly, you feel a breath of warm air tickle through your ear and skin. “Guess I’m not the only one stuck tonight.”

It’s a ghoulish whisper that impulsively causes you to drop your phone while opening its flashlight. What little the light reveals is a hint of pale flesh and blonde strands covertly moving like a predator stalking its prey. You feel something on your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. Clawlike nails thread through your hair, slowly entrapping you beyond escape. Your eyes tilt to the side, only to find the groove of lush dark lips forming a pretty smirk.

All it takes is another whisper. “Boo.”

“Shit!” You flail your arms panickedly, swinging them around like a child with no fighting experience. You hit nothing but air. If not for the darkness concealing you, it would be a humiliating sight, the kind that gets posted and clowned upon on social media. 

The figure grabs you by the wrists, stares so sternly it warrants attention. Its tone is just as sharp, too. “Don’t get us caught, goddammit.”

You pause, take a moment to gather yourself, then another to scan the shadowy stature, looking at you now with wary and concern. Peering through the darkness, its eyes glint with a distinct sparkle. It speaks again with a more tempered voice. “You okay now?”

A silence briefly falls. You stare back to familiarize and scan the figure. A moment of clarity comes upon you. “Wait—aren’t you—”

You recognize her face plastered on the accomplishment board, primarily under athletics and sports. It simply couldn’t be anyone else but Lee Chaeyeon, a polarizing figure within the student body. You’ve heard whispers from varying accounts. For some, she’s practically the greatest athlete to ever grace the institution, a generational talent in every department she excels in. To her teachers, she barely shows up to classes because of her athletic commitments, and a peek through the records shows she’s barely holding on in her academic obligations. 

At times, she’s felt like a myth, mainly because you’d only hear her from others. You never saw her once in a school uniform. Hell, you only knew she was around because other people claimed to have seen her, but they could have been spreading misinformation.

“What? Chaeryeong?” She raises an eyebrow, puckers her lips, partially confused and mildly annoyed, while lowering your arms before finally letting them go. She knows what you said. “That’s my little sis. She’s a lot cuter than I am. You need to get your eyes checked.”

“No, no.” Blissfully unaware, you’re quick to emphasize your point. “You’re Chaeyeon, head of the dance club and athletics division.”

“No? I’m Chaeryeong, head of the music department,” she says, sarcastic, but now with a playful smile. “No shit, I’m Chaeyeon.”

“I—I never expected to meet you here of all places,” you say, awkwardly smiling and tapping your fingers together nervously.

“I didn’t expect anyone would find this spot.” Chaeyeon turns around, brushing her long blonde locks in an alluring way that leaves you awestruck. Admittedly, it’s a little bit attractive how unabashedly sleazy she looks. Even in her clean pictures, you can tell she hates the idea of looking clean. While everyone else attends these parties at their best, only to come out a complete mess, she clearly recognizes the pointlessness in such vanity. “Great timing, too. I was gonna make a run for it.”

“So, why are you here again?” 

“Boredom.” Her reply is almost immediate, flippantly delivered, that it’s convincing. She has better things to do than hang around at random parties. “I just came for the free food.” She chuckles remembering the thought, while her eyes wander around the room, searching for something, anything.

“Just like me, huh,” you respond with blind confidence, as if it’ll give you both a common ground to share, when in reality, she doesn’t care. If anything, she only amuses you because she allowed you to entertain her, and you’re doing about as good of a job as anyone when it comes to catching her attention—a.k.a failing spectacularly. 

Chaeyeon turns around and faces you again with a curious, intimidating look. “And what do you know about that?”

Gulp. “About what?”

She tilts her head and doesn't utter another word, as if expecting you to know what she means. You clearly don’t. On her lips is a dour pout, disappointed by your impulsive tongue. None of it makes any sense, and trying to figure her out seems like a fool’s errand. 

“Thought so,” is the only thing she ends up saying, and an air of awkward silence falls on you both as she roams around the basement, presumably searching for a passage out. “You wanna be useful?” she suddenly snaps at you, her stare peering through a valley of boxes.

“What do you want me to do?”

“You wanna get out of here or what?” she spits, turning to you, gaze grimacing and tone scathing. Joining her, you both take note of a narrow hatch hidden behind even more dusty packages.

—————

Well, you may have just played the most awkward game of seven minutes in heaven in your life. 

The ride home is even more unsettling.

Chaeyeon remains dead silent, comfortably slumped back against the passenger seat of your car, keeping you at arm’s length. Occasionally glancing to your side, you’re driving, focused on the road ahead. The muted sound of radio blaring through the speakers is the only thing that keeps awkward silence from permeating throughout the vehicle. 

You can’t get her to show any form of emotion other than apathy.

Wanna have something to eat? Nothing. 

Where’s your place? Also nothing.

Where would you like me to drop you off? Still nothing.

Got any friends to meet up with? Again, nothing.

Most people would have given up by now. It’s not a good look, the kind that encourages ostracizing. Patient as you are, though, you still hope she opens up, but whenever your eyes meet, she gives you the coldest shoulder imaginable. She wants nothing to do with you. The way she stares, the tiredness peeking through her brown irises, the slow, detached gaze that examines you before lightly looking away—the very idea of interacting with people poisons her, ruins her, breaks her.

You pull off at a gas station a few blocks away from your apartment. Shutting down the engine, you gently say, “I’m gonna buy a snack. You want anything?”

She slowly turns back in your direction, very disconnected from you she can’t be bothered to look you in the eye. Her lips twist, as if ready to speak her mind, but only air ultimately comes out. As you expected by now.

“Fine,” you follow, deflecting her cold demeanor back at her. “Just wait here, then.”

After stepping out of your car, right as you’re about to enter the shop, you hear a sharp thud sound. Looking back, you find Chaeyeon, also outside, rubbing her arms from the cold air bothering her, trembling nervously. 

You call out to her, loud enough to draw anyone’s attention.

“Borrow my jacket?”

She doesn’t pay you any heed.

—————

“I seriously don’t understand you,” you murmur, as if it’ll bring her out of her shell or change anything, if your previous attempts at reaching out to her in a friendly manner are any proof. It’s late at night; you’re both casually staring at your car—the only noteworthy thing in this gas station—and you couldn’t be any more different. You’ve almost emptied your little cup of instant noodles, while she smokes through her dwindling cigarette, blowing smoke in your direction, still purposefully uncaring. The vapor doesn’t make you crack, but her coldness does. “Why did you ask me to drive for you? What’s the point? I don’t know what you want.”

It’s probably not the best time to show even the slightest frustration. Then again, she’s been deliberately dispassionate the entire time. Anyone else would have given up at this point, but there’s an allure to her, you admit, that keeps you interested, and not just because she’s a known name within the student body. Popularity was never the goal, but like everyone else, you simply wanted to know who Lee Chaeyeon is. She’s one of the biggest mysteries within the school; an all-star athlete with a peculiar aura surrounding her. From what you’ve seen so far, it’s not all that remarkable. She's sassy and apathetic, dry, sarcastic humor is her primary weapon, and she dresses like an escort. Perhaps this is all just a mix up, that this isn’t really the Chaeyeon, one of the best athletes to ever grace the university.

If not for the resemblance with her younger sister, the sweet girl from the music club, they couldn’t have been any more different. Are they really from the same family?

“Much better.” She returns her cigar to her mouth, huffs another round, then releases a new wave, thankfully not in your direction this time. Facing you, she looks you right in the eye. It’s different. There’s no apathy behind them, but instead, genuine interest. “I just wanted a free ride outta there.”

“That’s it?” is your reply, confused. Maybe you’re thinking these words through a bit too much, trying to find deeper complexity from a simple answer. You’ve met more complicated characters before, and to a certain degree, you can relate to her.

“Yeah.” Chaeyeon drags another whiff, but intentionally smokes away. “People just suck.”

In a strange, twisted way, she reads through your mind, says something that, quite frankly, leaves you even more in disarray. “Don’t think hard about it.”

Wide-eyed, you try averting your gaze in a poor attempt to feign ignorance. “Think about what?”

“You know,” she says, songful, gives you a rather taunting stare, eyebrows raised, as if expecting you to understand what she’s on about—deep down you know what that is—while flicking the ashes of her cig down on the table. Admittedly, it’s somewhat cute. Smirking, she adds, “Do I have to make it obvious to you, bird brain?”

“Fuck off.”

“There you go.” Chaeyeon leans back, chuckles, takes delight in making you look like the bad guy, that wicked, mocking grin on her lips a few inches wider than before. Only now do you perceive the true predicament; both of you secretly playing mind games, examining each other, trying to get on the other’s nerves until they eventually break. “I guess I win.”

“Win? We’re not playing games.”

“I got you to drop the nice guy act. I won.” 

Another huff, another smoke.

“That doesn’t mean much.”

“That’s what every loser says. Remember what I said? People suck.”

“We just met a few hours ago, and you’re telling me I suck?” Your volume grows slightly louder.  “After giving you a free ride out of that party?” 

“And who got you out of there first? Hmm?” Chaeyeon’s driving you mad, but now for a completely different reason. “Let me make it clear: I knew about the secret passage even if you hadn’t stumbled your way inside that basement. You were just lucky to find me at the right time.”

“Forget about the basement!” You find yourself slowly unraveling, slowly coming undone, your screws on the brink of loosening. She licks her lips, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

It’s sudden, it’s loud, it’s sharp. The words reverberate around the shop resoundingly that in any other setting, it’s what incites a public incident, gets both of you expelled and shamed in school. Maybe just you, knowing there’s a high likelihood of preferential bias the faculty may have for one of their most accomplished pupils. Regardless, you find yourself covering your mouth, as if you’ve just spoken some unspeakable destruction into existence. Even she ends up speechless.

The next moment is even more destructive: Chaeyeon’s lips suddenly cover yours.

—————

“Fuck, that’s good,” mutters Chaeyeon, between a shower of seemingly endless kisses on your lips, shoving you against the wall of the bathroom beside the convenience store. The doors are locked, with not a single soul’s around to interrupt you. Either way, she proves to be too much—too much to fight, with both words and actions, that you quickly give in, much sooner than she expected.

It’s not that you never considered the thought of kissing Chaeyeon—at times, they were a little tempting if not for the fact that she’s a smoker—but rather how delectable her lips are, even with the tainted scent of smoke etched on them. She passionately makes out with you, drives her tongue between yours, drives the wedge that seemingly kept you both apart, and no amount of self-righteous character can bury that want, that craving for affection—and sex.

“You do this with every man you meet?” You forcefully rip yourself from the kiss, only to find your lips dragged back in almost immediately. She knows it’s a futile effort to gain control, something you never had right from the start. 

“Fuck no,” she mouths between even more pecks. “Consider yourself incredibly lucky.”

She’s tugging on opposite ends of your shirt, threatening to rip them apart, something you recognize. Even as you continue to make out, with your hands exploring and marking new territory in the form of her divine figure, you make time for her, letting her freely own you by lifting the obstructive clothing over your head before she promptly tosses it aside in return. Her lips gradually slide down and make themselves familiar with you; your neck first, then your collarbones, smiling to herself as she marks each part as hers with her teeth, while creating more friction by palming your bare chest.

“Finally, someone who’s actually hot,” she quietly mouths to herself, though you can hear her loud and clear. You’ve got a response, a retaliation, but you choose to bask in the moment, acknowledge how good she already makes you feel in the form of a light groan.

Her hands slide down the steep hill that is your torso, until they find more difficult fabric. Locking eyes with yours, she works on your pants, keeping you suspended as she figures out how to claim her rightful prize. Behind those brown pupils is a burning lust, a raging flame consuming her from within, eager to take what she wants; it’s not the same cold stare from before. 

“How long have you wanted me?” she asks, followed by the gentle whir of your zipper as she slides down your pants and boxers in one swing. Before you can formulate a reply, you suddenly release an airy gasp—your only response—caught unaware by her deft, silky hand pressing on your balls and your raging cock. Her smirk widens, amused and absorbed by your electric reaction. 

She continues to fiddle with your cock, giving it one slow, but delicate pump after another, as you fall under her dizzying spell. Forget about the question; the answer is quite clear, based on the stickiness slowly building up between her hand and your cock. Pleasure begins to spike all over your body, and almost single handedly ends you, if not for her other hand keeping you steady against the wall. It’s a little too soon—a little too much for your brain to comprehend.

Her gaze lingers on yours, watching you gradually crumble in real-time; you’re no better than anyone else in this situation. It’s amusing, gets cute, sweet, playful looks that seemingly brighten her day after what seemed to be an absolute disaster. She knows what she’s doing and she loves it. Your hands cling to shoulders, feel the softness of her skin, and it sparks a fire in her eyes, quick to spread and consume.

“Tell me how long you’ve wanted me,” she repeats herself, the bright glint in her eyes and her grin more mischievous than serious. Determined to get the answer out of you, she tightly cups your balls, drawing out a deep groan. “I know you’ve been staring at me since we met.”

She’s not entirely wrong. Even in the darkness of that desolate basement, you knew she was drop-dead gorgeous. It became clear under the pale moonlight that she was even hotter: a black crop that teased the subtlest of cleavage, exposed her toned midriff, and jeans that accentuated her shapely ass. Yes, even when you thought she wasn’t interested, she knew your stare never departed. 

“Since always.” Not the best answer; you both literally just encountered each other earlier that night, but it’s the most logical. Not a single girl in college made you hot and heavy like this. Sure, some of them were cute, her sister included, but none of them had that appeal, that love at first sight attraction that Chaeyeon carried. 

Her free arm reaches up to the zipper of her shirt, presses her cleavage together a little. There’s amusement on her features watching in your eagerness to watch them slip. She contemplates the thought, painfully stalling the inevitable by a few precious seconds, then she unzips her top down. One side of the sleeve slides down her shoulders, then the other, until only a matching black bra remains. 

It promptly joins the other clothes on the opposite end of the bathroom, completely irrelevant. 

You and Chaeyeon make quick work of her jeans before you’re quickly drawn together like magnets, feeling each other’s hot, sweaty skin, entangled like a complete puzzle making out against the walls. It’s an intense back and forth, a tug of war as you both desire complete ownership of the other’s body. Each torrid kiss screams of desperation, not intimacy, to be used, to be consumed. 

Spacious as the bathroom is, you can’t seem to find common ground. One moment you’ve got her pinned against the furthest stall, the next she has you fastened in another, until you eventually acquaint yourselves with all three cubicles. Both of you know where this is going and where it should lead; you just don’t know how you can get there. There’s plenty of distractions in front of you, mainly Chaeyeon’s perfect naked figure, a leg wrapped around your hip, and the gleam in her eyes wanting and yearning. It’s dangerous; temptation lurks everywhere you look. If not for the arms wrapped around your neck, occasionally dictating that you only look at her lust-filled face between kisses, the rest of her body would earn your worship. 

Chaeyeon moans, writhes in your grasp, slowly relinquishing control over to you. From her bottom lip, you slip them down to her neck, and she trembles, clings tighter, feeling weak. Her hands pinch the back of your hair, mouth mumbling airy, faint words. It’s passionate, sinful, and tender—something you never expected with an otherwise rough woman like her.

“God, you’re so hot—” you hiss, gasping as her touch arouses you. “Mmm—”

She suddenly regains composure, stops you a breath away from her chest, then pulls you back toward her face. Another deep kiss. “Enough. I’m not in the mood for love making tonight.”

Regretfully, she removes herself from your clutch, pulling you by the hand instead to lead you to the bathroom sink. Every time she kisses you, her lips smell of alcohol and lipstick, and it never gets old. You wonder if she simply likes kissing or if she’s conveying some kind of message that you somehow have to decipher. She notices the curious expression on your face, lets out this droll laugh that gives off the assumption you’re onto something, when really, she’s as unpredictable as ever.

There’s nothing funny, nor is it supposed to be, but it makes no sense, perfectly in line with her character.

Before the awkwardness looms over you again, she grabs you by the waist, pushes you forward to impale her. Her back arches against the sink, perfectly spaced between her torso and legs. She spins around, flaunts her shapely curves that immediately capture your attention—and your hands. Ignore her steely glare that pierces through your reflection in the mirror; her flesh melts, molds comfortably in your grasp, as if they were tailor made for you. 

She grunts, loses control again, but it’s only momentarily. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Even though you’ve seen her look vulnerable, her sharp attitude keeps you on edge, stops you from committing a sinful act. Your cock is in the perfect position to ruin her, break the facade and the space between you, but it’s not a fight worth contending, especially when she follows up with a dagger that almost pierces your heart. “Keep it between my legs.”

You immediately knew what she meant. To be quite honest, it’s a little disappointing. All that preamble, pleasantry, the tease of something more, only to be shot down before it even starts—it’s almost disheartening. Of course, you had no room to complain, not when she’s splayed out in her barest, practically giving you free reign over every other part of her, but something feels—off, incomplete.

Chaeyeon spreads her legs wide, gracious to space your cock right in its center. Her cunt is on full display, ripe and ready to be used, to be fucked. Unfortunately, you won’t get to have any piece of it without her word. It’s near-impossible to look away, spellbinding you with an unforgettable mental image. The thought of—or the lack thereof—filling her pussy torments you. Even as her smooth, perfect thighs sandwich your cock, the notion poisons your mind, leaves you wandering and aimless, until the perfect amount of friction strikes and—

“Fuck.”

It’s smooth, suffocating, devastating. Now you truly have nothing to whine about, except to whine about how tight her legs feel around your cock, rubbing and stroking yourself between her thick thighs. Barely hanging on, you press your hands on her shoulders, losing yourself in the pleasure quickly. Thanks to the little flecks of precum from before, sliding between her heat proves to be much easier. 

Slowly but surely, you grow accustomed to her asphyxiating warmth, unable to process anything beyond the slickness and powerful sensations around her flesh. Eyes closed, you moan in prolonged, deep spurts, resting your head beside hers. Her feelings don’t matter at this moment, only yours. You don’t realize her hand is gripped to your thigh, only that it amplifies the surge of pleasure coursing throughout your body. A possible reminder to keep your cock away from her cunt, but you didn’t need it anymore—her thighs are more than enough.

“Yeah. Fucking enjoy it, horny bitch.” Chaeyeon’s tone and expression seemingly derives no enjoyment from watching you lose it, as if it’s only an obligation and not something both of you share pleasure in. She moans, but it’s faint and weak. “That feels good, right?”

“It does,” you blurt, trapped in the heavenly bliss between her legs, loving every little motion. “So good, Chaen, holy fuck—”

She sees you visibly struggling and helplessly trying to gather air, smiles and laughs at your predicament. It’s a mess; it’s her schadenfreude. Delightful, she thinks to herself, now playing along with her lewd expressions plastered on the mirror. Unconvincing, if not a bit too much leaning towards parody. She’s waiting for the opportunity to get the edge over you, the killing blow. 

Tightening her grip around your cock, her toned legs collapse, and you can feel the fire in your loins gradually building and hurling toward a calamitous explosion. There’s nothing you can do to stop—not that you ever want to, watching your cock slide in and out her thighs at a perfect rhythm is its own reward—only praying that the moment lingers a bit longer. You’ve got both hands pinched to her taut nipples, thankfully unresisted, kissing around her collarbone and ear, trying in vain to stifle the endless string of curses and moans leaving your lips.

It doesn’t help that her voice is seductive, downright merciless, repeatedly goading you into submission, staring at your reflection expectantly. “That’s it. Cum for me, bitch. You won’t ever get this kind of opportunity with anyone else but with me. No one else will ever make you feel this good. Just cum, and cum, and cum—”

The word rings in your head, hypnotic, borderline leaning toward brainwashing. It isn’t gaslighting when she has a point; she feels so fucking incredible, so tight and hot and suffocating—no one else can possibly compare. Then again, ecstasy is the only thing running through your head, clouding your better judgment. You’ve got a hand digging through her endless sea of blonde locks, pumping between her thighs, each thrust sorer than the last, like you’ll regret the action in the morning. 

“I’m so close, Chaen. I’m going to cum,” you say desperately. 

There’s that familiar twinkle in her eyes, and a mischievous grin forming on her lips. Troubling. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you say, your cock aching painfully between her wet, toned thighs. 

“Please.” 

“Please!” you shout, teetering dangerously close to the edge, threatens you and Chaeyeon. Again, slowing down proves to be impossible. You’re so far gone.

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum! Please let me cum, Chaen, oh God.”

“That’s it. Cum—”

As soon as she lets that word out, the lights immediately turn green. Releasing all your inhibitions, your eyes widen, pumping your cock hurling to that oh-so deserved orgasm between her legs. Her thighs receive every last shot, every single drop. You both moan into each other’s ear, with Chaeyeon finding comfort and satisfaction from feeling the warmth you’ve given her. 

She throws her head back, cranes her neck, brushes a hand around your hair while you pump through your climax. Eventually, your cock slips, winds down to a complete halt. You find your lips returning to her collarbones, taking solace on her sensitive flesh as you remain intimately attached together for a little while longer.

“Shit.” You look down, past the curves of her chest, see the puddles and drops of slick on the floor. She mirrors your gesture, checks the damage between her legs, and it’s a disaster: her thighs are dripping with cum down to her feet, with two noticeable blots parallel to the other. 

“So needy.” Chaeyeon says with a laugh, caressing your cheek, her voice a temptation in your ear, goading you for more. “Not lucky with the ladies, hmm?”

Wistfully, you reply, “Yeah.”

Chaeyeon slowly releases your chin from her hand, slips from your clutch to grab a stream of tissue rolls to clean herself up. You cling to the sink with wobbly legs, staring down at the basin, overcome by a wave of both regret and exhaustion. Unwelcome thoughts creep in. A lack of protection, a return of her dour persona, and your reputations at stake—you’ll entertain them all in the morning, when the honeymoon period ends.

When you look up, you see Chaeyeon in the mirror, almost finished dressing up, fixing her cleavage before zipping up her crop top. She stares back, grinning. “You know you still have to drive me home. So when you’re done pining over not cumming in my pussy—”

“Where? Where's home?”

“Yours.”

—————

(A/N: Finally got to one of the four selected requests! I'm sorry this one took a lot longer than expected, but what can you expect from me XD I still have PCD as I write this down and no amount of copium can help me recover haha. I loved the request as it gave me the perfect excuse to write Chaeyeon again; she's an underrated hottie and I'm glad she (1) quit Queendom Puzzle instead of pushing through and (2) Knock became a surprise hit. It's only a matter of time before her star rises even further. Thank you for reading!)

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Drunk & In Love: Arthur Morgan x Reader (NSFW)

Contains: Ambiguous gender for reader, sex, creampies(?)

A fire sat warmly deep within both of your beings. Alcohol sat heavy in your guts, the poison dulling your minds and numbing your sights and movements. Sluggish steps up a flight of creaking stairs with the man behind the counter rolling his eyes and attempting to bury himself with books and such alike as he knew what sort of debauchery would happen soon.

You both snatched at each other’s loose clothing, hands grabbing fistfuls of cotton and denim and leather of each others splayed open coats. Some alcohol had sploshed onto the fabric, staining light fabric to be a muddy brown under the dim lighting of the narrow hallway.

You both could hear the other rooms wake up to the sounds of you both staggering down them, inhabitants scoffing or stilling to listen for any chance to pray you both would just pass out instead of make them want to smother you with the pages from their Bibles.

But as Arthur pressed heated kisses to your neck, sloppily licking and nipping at the skin, even in your drunken state you knew that in the morning you both would have glares and harsh words spat towards you.

So you both had decided to enjoy this time while you still could.

The door had been thrown open without a care in the world as Arthur yanked you inside. Barely managing to kick the door closed behind him, he grasped at the sides of your head and drew you in for a sloppy kiss, a trail of saliva between your lips as you backed up just enough until the backs of your knees hit the lumpy, old mattress and covers. You snatched at the collar of Arthur’s lop-sided jacket, yanking the man down with you until your chests smacked together. He groaned, his hands on either side of your head, barely keeping him above you.

But even as he gazed at you with half-lidded eyes, the man seemed to undress you with those forest green eyes.

The man groaned, feeling his constraining pants tighten up, tenting, forcing to hide his growing erection you could feel starting to poke at your person.

Standing up to only drunkenly claw at his own clothing, Arthur grunted and slurred curses under his breath, dropping his belt and pants to the floor, kicking them off with his muddy boots in tow. He eyed you like he were some predator as he snatched at the buttons of his shirt, allowing the shirt and his jacket to roll off by their own heavy weight, leaving the man naked before you.

And God, if you didn’t love it when he was naked.

Arthur swayed where he stood, eyes fluttering before opening, suddenly more aware of what was happening as he now aided you in pulling off your clothing. He pulled at the waistband of your pants, dragging them down with your underwear, pushing up your shirt to kiss at the bare skin of your stomach, down to your navel, right on your pelvis before he stopped to fully pull off your pants.

Tossing them carelessly behind him, he cared no longer to take off your shirt as he lunged at you like he were some wild animal.

He had caught you as you tried to sit up on your elbows, forcing you to turn around as he pinned you to the bed. Your face smushed into the old covers that smelled of weird powders, your hands curling around the stiff quilty fabric as Arthur had slowly sank into you. You both found yourselves crying out, backs curling, hips shaking. Arthur snatched at your hips, blunt fingertips digging into your naked sides as he dragged you in closer, slowly filling you up more, driving himself as deep as he could go before he found himself choking at how tight you were around his thick cock.

Pistoning his hips, Arthur’s head lulled to the side, the man groaning as if he were in bed with an illness, losing himself to his drunken pleasure as he found himself now ramping up in speed. He forced you down against the bed, keeping you pinned there with no escape.

You groaned into the sheets, drooling and sobbing as Arthur had now started to pound relentlessly into you. The bed creaked and squeaked and groaned under your weights, at how fast he was thrusting in and out of you. The floorboards were creaking underneath you both, the bed knocking against the walls and shaking the lights.

Even in your drunken pleasures, you still heard their shouts for quiet, but Arthur merely grumbled under his breath.

“I ain’t stoppin’,” he muttered.

He gasped, suddenly finding himself coiling. Fire burned in his belly as he found himself twitching inside of you.

“Arthur!” you cried.

You had yanked at the quilt, shoulders shaking as you gasped to breathe. You could feel your own climax ramping up. Arthur had slowed his thrusts, drawing out lewd moans from both of you, crying out like you were animals in heat.

You found yourself suddenly rocking with pleasure as your body shut down, crying out as you came apart under Arthur.

The man snatched at your limp hips, slamming against you once, twice, three more times before a comforting heat filled your insides, leaking out to coat your naked asscheeks and spill onto the bedsheets between you both.

You gasped, looking back to Arthur, slurring on about how much you loved him only for him to look down at you. That fire inside of him continued to burn on like coal in an engine. He was a well-oiled machine, and from how he rolled his shoulders back and snatched at your aching waist once more, you knew he was already prepared for a second round if the sudden prodding at your ass was any sign.

Something told you that you wouldn’t be spending any more time in hotels for a little bit.

[absurdthirst]

Crashing the Party {Dieter Bravo x Plus Sized!F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.2k

Warnings: Drug/alcohol use, dubious consent due to intoxication, flirting, Dieter being a menace, face sitting, begging, oral sex (male and female receiving), anal fingering, snorting coke off tits, apply coke to sex organs with sex organs, debauchery, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, hangovers, hurt feelings, drunken behavior, name calling, Dieter doesn't take advantage, hungover sex, make up sex

Comments: Deciding to crash your boss's party, you find that he doesn't recognize you in your sexy nurses costume. Leading you to a night you never expected to have, in your boss's bed.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“It has to be epic!” Dieter declared when he first told you about his idea to have the biggest and best Halloween party in the Hills. He had his party planner invite everyone he knows and he had his drug dealer drop off every drug known to man. He has spent a fortune on this party, even having you pick up his custom costume - a fortune teller - and you watch the party planner and her team scramble to decorate and finish setting up Dieter’s grand mansion. The security will arrive soon and you will leave thereafter. Not invited - not that you expected an invite from your boss but it would’ve been nice - you decide to head home and gorge on Halloween candy while watching horror movies. “This is fucking awesome!” Dieter cries out when he sees the finished set up before the party officially starts and he grabs the bottle of vodka, ready to get the night started. 

**** 

“You know…you should crash his party.” Your roommate tells you as she gets ready for her own party at her boyfriend's house. Her sexy corset makes you fluster as she adjusts her wig. “I got a few costume choices. You could go to the party you helped organize. You can go as a sexy nun…a sexy fairy…or a sexy nurse. There’s wigs too. No one would know it’s you. You should go crash it. Drink his booze.” She urges you, knowing how difficult your boss can be.

Dieter loves throwing parties. People fawn over him and gush about how good the party is. Making him feel useful and wanted. Feelings that he’s been trying to capture and been unable to hold onto over the past few years. His platinum credit card is used to cut a line of coke, giggling as he looks out over the people that are dancing and popping the pills that he has stationed around like candy bowls. A bowl of Molly, a bowl of Ice. There’s even some speedballs that are being passed around. Whatever someone wants, he’s got it here for them. His vodka glass is empty and he frowns dramatically, stumbling to his feet to move to the bar. He can’t do a line of coke without a vodka chaser. 

You manage to get past security, telling them you’re Dieter’s assistant and they saw you earlier so they know you. You get inside without issue and the party is already buzzing. Music playing and groups of people sitting around talking, making out or taking drugs. You step further into the house and see Dieter by the bar, pouring himself a shot. You don’t realize that his eyes have found you but he doesn’t know it’s you. He saunters over to you with a smirk, “well who are you and why aren’t you sitting on my face?” He asks and you wonder if he recognizes you at all. The wig and makeup have transformed you but you don’t think it was enough for Dieter to not know you. 

“Very funny, Bravo.” You scoff and walk past him, determined to have a good time so you locate the bowl of molly and take one. 

Dieter is confused, wondering why this beautiful woman walked past him without even acknowledging that he’s an fucking Oscar winning actor. He will find her again and make sure she knows who he is. Whose party she is attending. It’s kind of distracting, how he had just been ignored. Finding himself abandoning the line of coke to watch the mysterious woman as she pours herself a drink and moves over to the food tables. He hums, watching her hips sway under her costume and he imagines squeezing them as she rides his tongue or his cock, he’s not choosy right now. Hopefully both. Taking another shot of liquid courage, he moves towards the sexy woman and plasters on a cocky smile. “Got meat?” He asks teasingly, right as she is about to put a sausage in her mouth. “It’s good, right? I was told it was the best in L.A. But they hadn’t tried mine.” He jokes, winking at her. 

You stare at him, wondering if he recognizes you at all. You are made up in the sexy nurse costume, wig in place and makeup but you can’t believe your own boss doesn’t recognise your face. Maybe he really doesn’t give a shit about you. You pop the sausage into your mouth, chewing slowly as he stares at you, his eyes dipping down to your mouth. “I’d say this one is pretty damn hard to beat.” You smirk, reaching over the table to pick up some candy, chewing on it as he stands there watching you. 

“So…who are you here with?” He asks, leaning a little closer. 

“No one.” You hum, “heard there was a Sherman Oaks party and I couldn’t miss it.”

“Really?” His brows lift in surprise and he leans in even more. “Do you know who owns this house? Who’s throwing the party?” He asks, not bothering to wait for an answer. “Me. It’s my party, my house.” He smirks. “So….” He tilts his head towards the bar. “Let me buy you a drink and we can discuss how you’re going to ride my cock later on. I’m thinking slow and sensual, really taking your time. But I’m also open to being ridden hard and put up wet. Your call.” 

You nearly choke as your boss asks you to ride his cock. He really doesn’t know who you are because he never wanted you, never saw you as a person, let alone a woman in all your interactions working for him. “I’ll take the drink…and I’ll hold off on the cock.” You chuckle, enjoying seeing him not get what he wants all the damn time.

He pouts immediately but then shrugs it off and decides that he will convince you later on to fuck him. “Pick your poison.” He tells you, grabbing another one of those sausages for you before he guides you over to the bar. “I’ve got practically every liquor you could want. Or any pills.” He chuckles. “Here.” He hands this gorgeous creature the sausage before hopping behind the bar to grin at you. “What will it be?” 

You stare at him as he treats you like a conquest, something that you’ve never had directed at you but you’ve witnessed countless times as he tried to woo any man or woman that caught his eye. “Vodka and cranberry.” You tell him before popping the sausage into your mouth and you can’t resist teasing him but moaning as you chew. It’s gonna be fun to run Dieter ragged trying to seduce you.

His cock twitches at the sound of that sexy little moan and he swears he’s heard your voice before but he can’t place it. Critical thinking while high is never the best thing for him, and he’s popped a few pills before he hadn’t done that line of coke. “Vodka cranberry coming up.” He winks and grabs the bottle of Grey Goose. “Very easy drink.” he pauses as he pours the glass half full of vodka. “You want sprite in it too?”

Your eyes widen at the measure and you know you need to sip that to avoid embarrassing yourself by getting wasted. You nod so he puts the tiniest pour of sprite into the cup. “Thanks.” You thank him, fingers brushing his as you take the red solo cup. You take a sip, wincing at the strength of the vodka and you’re grateful it’s a higher end liquor. Only the best for Dieter Bravo. “You got any molly?” You ask, wanting to get a little high to enjoy the party - might as well since Dieter won’t surface until late afternoon tomorrow if this party goes until dawn. Dieter grins, grabbing the bowl of pills and you hesitate, knowing you shouldn’t get high but damn it, he does it all the time. You pick out a pill, popping it into your mouth and you stare at Dieter as he watches you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread.

He wonders why someone like you has escaped him, you must live nearby. “So, have you been to many Hollywood parties, baby?” He asks, wrapping his arm around you and guiding you towards one of the empty couches. Restraining himself from sliding his hand down to squeeze your generous ass. “What’s your name, by the way?” 

You snort, knowing he’s just drunk and high and you can feel your high creeping over you. “My name…is not necessary unless you want to call me Nurse.” You tease, “and I’m too busy to go to these parties. I got work to do.” You say, sipping your drink as you sit down on the sofa and he practically curls around you. You know he’s drunk and high otherwise he wouldn’t be interested in someone like you.

“Nurse.” He hums, leaning in and dragging his nose along your shoulder. “Are you a naughty nurse?” He asks, grinning at the idea. “I like naughty nurses. And you are a sexy, naughty nurse.” His fingers run along your arm. “How’s your drink, baby?” 

You roll your eyes playfully as he crowds you and it’s overwhelming to be on the receiving end of his flirtations. “Strong.” You answer his question and he smirks, “stiff.” He adds and you giggle, feeling the drug relax you. “You are?” You tease and he groans, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear. 

“I am.” He promises and you know you should tell him who you are to him but you’re enjoying feeling wanted. 

“You really like nurses, huh?”

“I like this nurse.” He promises, drawing a little heart symbol on your arm before he places his hand on your knee. “You smell good too, what are you wearing?” He swears he’s smelled it before, it’s almost comforting. “That perfume?” 

"It's, uh, Carolina Herrera. Good Girl. My mom gave it to me for my birthday." You explain, even though Dieter forgot your birthday...or maybe he didn't even know about it at all. 

"Are you a good girl?" He asks teasingly and you smirk, wanting to mess with him a little more. 

"Sometimes." You whisper, leaning a little closer. Dieter smirks, his hand sliding a little higher up your thigh and you are surprised his attention is on you when he has a plethora of models and actresses in his home. "Can you tell me my future?" You ask him, reaching up to touch his headscarf.

“You want your future told?” He hums, squeezing your ample thigh and groaning when his cock twitches again at your softness. “I see that you are going to go to bed with an Oscar winner.” He predicts with a chuckle. “Who makes you cum with his skilled tongue and big dick.” Leaning in, he bites your jaw playfully. “Licking coke off your tits and sucking Molly off your clit.”

You gasp in arousal at his words, imagining just that. You know he's gifted orally - both professionally and personally from experience and sexually from accounts you've heard from his partners. To have his attention on you has you practically vibrating and you place your hand over his on your thigh and you think he thinks you're pushing him away but you guide it higher. "Is there an Oscar winner nearby?" You play dumb, wanting to rile him up a little.

Dieter growls, both confused that you don’t know who he is and loving that fact. No expectations. No demands. His fingers turn when he twists his wrist and he dives under the stretched out skirt to press against your clit through what feels like lace panties. “You’re in luck, baby. I’m an Oscar winner. And I love coke and Molly.” He smirks, starting to rub a small circle on your clit. “Question is…do you want to have sex with me?” The drugs have taken full effect and he’s hornier than normal. You’re fucking voluptuous and thick, making his mouth water and his cock throb. You remind him of someone he wants, but can’t have.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as he rubs you just right on the first move and you swear you could cum for him right then and there. You know it’s the booze and the drugs that makes him want you and the same for you. You have this one night to be with your boss and you won’t deny yourself when he clearly wants you. Tomorrow, you’ll likely kick yourself but he doesn’t know who you are and he never will. You lean in, placing your hand on his upper thigh. “I want to have sex with you. Are you…are you going to leave your party or wait until we are all alone. I gotta warn you…I’m a screamer.” You smirk, leaning in to bite down on his ear lobe with that stupid earring like you've always wanted to.

“Ohhhhh fuck.” Dieter moans. “The party….fuck, it can go on without us.” He pants, loving how eager you are. “We can have our own party. One where you sit on my face and I’ll dip my cock in coke for you to suck off.”

You moan, eager to see how he is in bed. The Molly has you relaxed and you nod, “let’s go, baby.” You order, knowing that at least for tonight, you have Dieter Bravo. He stands up and grabs your hand, scooping up a baggie of coke and a baggie of pills as he pulls you along to his suite. You giggle, the music blaring as people party and the music is muffled as Dieter shuts the door when you’re inside his bedroom.

“Fuck, you’re sexy.” He groans, turning towards you and pulling off the hat of his costume. “Are you wearing lace under there? I thought I felt lace. Who cares? You’re gonna be wearing my face. Or maybe my face will be wearing you? I don’t care, but I want to lick your pussy.”

You smirk, “you wanna find out?” You ask, working on the flimsy buttons of the dress and Dieter stands there, almost hypnotized as he watches you strip off the cheap costume, exposing the lace you are wearing underneath. You know he’s clean, having organized his health checks for filming, so you are comfortable with him touching you. Even though the drug haze, you consider him to be comfortable.

“Fuck.” Dieter groans, eyeing your breasts and your curves. Licking his lips and imaging all the fucking places he could snort or lick drugs off you. “Okay. Yeah. Get undressed.” He quickly yanks his costume shirt over his head and starts to kick off his crocs. “Fuck, you make my dick rock hard, baby.”

You clench around nothing, imagining him naked far too many times to be professional as his assistant but you’ve been curious. “Show me.” You order, slipping out of your heels and he nods, shoving his baggy pants down his legs to display the bulge in his briefs - a rare clothing item he wears but needed for the party. You are glad he likes what he sees and you reach behind you to unclasp your bra, letting him see your tits for the first time.

“Goddamn.” Dieter groans, twitching again at the sight of your breasts, nipples hard and begging for his lips wrapped around them. “I can’t wait to suck on those while you bounce on my cock.” He palms himself and then hooks his fingers into his briefs to strip them down, letting his cock spring free and start to curl up as he kicks them off. He reaches for the pills and pops one in his mouth to swallow and then smirks. “Come here, sexy. Wanna make you feel good.”

Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock. You've seen him naked before. Unavoidable when you are trying to wake him up for an early call time and he sleeps naked, but you have never seen him hard. Not like this. Your mouth drops and he chuckles, gesturing for you to come over to him and you do, "fuck Dieter. I didn't - you're so thick." You reach down to take him into your hand.

Dieter’s grin quickly slides into a moan. “You- fuck, that had is so soft around me.” He pants, moaning again when you squeeze him as if to prove him wrong. His hands reach up to cup your tits and he swipes his thumbs over your nipples.

You moan as he pinches your nipples and he surges forward to press his lips to yours. Your tongue slides against his and you squeeze his cock a little harder as his hands fondle your tits.

He’s never had someone that is so unabashedly sexy and isn’t even trying. You are naturally sexy and he slides his hands down to squeeze your hips. “Fuck baby, get on my face.” He pants, excited to taste you.

You pull back, biting your lip, “are you sure? I- I’m not light.” You feel the self consciousness creep in as Dieter asks you to sit on his face. Even the booze and the drugs can’t stop it. “You want me to suck your cock?” You offer, wanting him to be distracted by another option.

Dieter grunts, shaking his head. “Only if you suck my cock while those thick thighs frame my head.” He grins, reaching one hand down and slapping a thigh.

You nod, knowing that Dieter doesn’t do what he doesn’t want to do. You let go of his cock and he pulls you over to the bed, laying down and patting his cheeks. “Take a seat, baby girl.” He orders and you hesitate as you kneel on the bed but he doesn’t give you a chance to say no as he tugs you over to straddle his face. It’s a little awkward as you hover over him until his tongue darts out to flick your clit and you moan.

​​He moans at the first taste of your cunt. Immediately falling in love with the musky, tangy taste, he pulls you down onto his lips firmly and groans into you as he starts to eat you out. Dieter might be selfish in a lot of ways, but he wants to give you pleasure, make you shake above him and his cock spurts some pre-cum from how excited he is.

You see his cock leaking and you can’t resist bending over to take him into your hand and within seconds, into your mouth. You moan around him, unable to believe how thick he is as he twitches inside your mouth. His tongue slides into your cunt and you relax, letting your weight drop more onto his face.

He groans like you are giving him the best gift when you shift onto him more. Enjoying the weight of you, the feeling of being smothered by you. His hands hold onto your hips, licking desperately into your wet little hole and wishing he could see how fucking sexy this looks. Your mouth around his cock feels amazing, like you are sucking his soul out, making him gasp into your folds.

You grip the base of his cock, pumping what doesn’t fit into your mouth and you moan when he sucks on your clit. His fingers are digging into your hips and you know you could smother him but he seems to be enjoying it.

He rocks his hips up, pulling your own back onto him more as you pull off his cock. Groaning at how sexy this is. Your split slides down into the hair at the base of his cock and he curls his tongue and pushes deeper before pulling it out, starting to fuck you with it and burying it as deep as he can, his nose pressed against your puckered hole.

You rest your cheek on his thigh after letting his cock drop from your mouth and you moan his name, “fuck. You - you’re so good.” You pant, his mouth working you up as his nose presses into your flesh. “You’re gonna make me cum.” You tell him breathlessly, your fingers wrapping around his cock and you take him back into your mouth, moaning around him again and again until he sends you over the edge. His cock falling from your mouth again as you cum, your cry echoing off of the walls of his bedroom.

Groaning happily, Dieter lets your arousal coat his face, smothering himself in your juices and he wonders if it's been a long time since you've cum or if you always cum that much. The frantic tongue fucking turns to languid, indulgent licks until you pull away from his mouth and make him whine at the loss of his new favorite treat.

You lift your hips off of his face and he whines in protest. “Baby. Baby. Baby.” You whimper, shifting off of him and you move to lay down beside him, reaching for him to cup his cheek so you can press your lips to see, tasting yourself on his tongue. “God, I see why they say your tongue is magic now.” You confess, reaching down to take his cock in your hand again.

"You need to see on my cock and see why they call it magical." He whines, rocking his hips up into your grip. "Fuck me, my pretty nurse. Or let me fuck you, I just know I'm gonna die if I don't slide into that perfect pussy."

“Fuck. I- you wanna - you wanna fuck me from behind?” You ask him, curious how he wants you and you don’t want to ride him, knowing he’d see you in an unflattering angle. “Then you can do coke off of my tits.” You offer, the drugs making you chattier than you’d normally be during sex.

"Fuck, you're perfect." He groans, reaching up and grabbing the back of your neck to drag you to him for another kiss. "Get to watch my dick plow into your pussy and making your ass jiggled and I get to snort coke off your tits? You're the fucking best."

You kiss for a few moments before he’s pulling back to tell you to get onto your knees. You obey, shifting onto your hands and knees, ass jiggling as you wiggle your hips while he kneels behind you. “Fuck me. I- I have an IUD. You can cum inside me if you want. Or use a condom. I don’t care. Just fuck me.”

Dieter giggles, slapping your ass before he caresses it. "You want my cock, baby?" He coos as he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it as he shuffles up to press the head against your entrance.

You grind back against him, trying to push him inside but he teases you, making you hiss in frustration. You whimper and he takes pity, pushing deep inside of you in one thrust and you cry out loud enough for anyone passing in the hall to hear you. “Fuck!” You shriek, loving how it feels as he pushes deep and your ass jiggles as he smacks it.

"Oh fuck, you naughty, naughty, nurse." He groans out, grinding his hips and throbbing inside you. His hands caress your ass as he waits for you to adjust to him. He knows he's thick, that it can be a lot, so he just strokes from your tits down to your thighs.

Your head hangs between your shoulders as he lets you adjust to him and fuck, he’s thick. It’s enough to make you want to tap out but you ain’t a quitter. You take a deep breath and relax, giving yourself a moment until the burn fades. “You can move.” You tell him, looking over your shoulder.

"Fuck, baby." Dieter grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your ample flesh. Loving how he can be rougher with you and it doesn't feel like he's grinding against your bones. "I'm going to enjoy this so much. Touch yourself. Rub your pretty clit while I fuck you."

"Okay. Okay." You can't disobey him, reaching down to rub your clit, and your walls flutter around his cock as he starts to move inside of you. "So good." You choke, feeling more than anything you've felt in years.

Starting to rock into you, Dieter loves how your cunt flutters around him. "Oh fuck baby, best cunt I've ever been inside." He grunts, eyes rolling back before looking down at the way your ass shakes and you take his cock. "Jesus, you feel so good."

"You - you're just pussy drunk." You snort playfully as he rocks into you and you moan his name as he punches deep enough to hit your cervix. 

"Drunk on the best pussy I've ever had." He pants and you chuckle breathlessly, "bet you say that to all the nurses."

He groans, thrusting into you harder as he feels like his entire body is on fire. Leaning over you, he cups your tits and bites your shoulder as he fills you again and again. "Tight and warm." He groans. "So fuckin' wet, baby. This pussy is so fuckin' wet. So good."

"And - and you're so thick. God, is it the drugs or does this - this is the best sex I've ever had and I haven't even cum yet." You confess, rocking back onto him and he pinches your nipples.

"The best sex you've ever had." Dieter grunts, huffing out an amused laugh that you would think of anything else. "Because it's sex with me. God, you're so goddamn pretty. I could fuck you all the time."

"Do it. Fu- fuck me every day." You moan, rubbing your clit a little harder. You always thought your boss got laid and had people fawning over him because he was an Oscar winning actor but it turns out it's because he's a fucking sex god.

"Fuck." He groans at the thought of it. "Get you other nurse outfits, have you wear them all the time and sit on my cock. Let me finger you. Tongue fuck you. Have you suck my cock."

“Yessss.” You hiss, rocking back onto him as you get closer to your orgasm. “I can - I can be your - your sex doll. Wanna - wanna just have you fuck me all day. Have you lick my clit all day making me cum over and over until - until I let you fuck me. You’d have to be a good boy.” You ramble, lost in the pleasure as you imagined dominating Dieter a little.

His cock twitches deep inside you, moaning at the thought of that. "I'll be a good boy." He promises. "Fuck, no one wants to take care of me. It's always getting fucked by the movie star. No one just wants to take charge and fuck me."

You moan, wanting to take charge of him, to have him putty in your hands. “I can take charge. Ride you. Keep you from cumming until I’m satisfied.” You tell him, clenching around him to make your point as he pushes deep. “I’d make you beg me to cum.” You promise him, “you want me to make you beg now?” You ask breathlessly, wanting to hear him beg you for once after he orders you around all day.

"Fuck yes." He pulls out of you and flops down onto the bed. "Ride me, make me beg, baby." He urges you, eyes wide with desire as he looks over at you. "Please."

You should feel self conscious but the drugs and booze have you feeling confident as you shift to straddle him. Reaching down to grip his cock, you position him at your entrance and slowly start to sink down on him, your eyes meeting his as his gaze flicks between your pussy and your face.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck baby." He whimpers, toes curling and his hands hold onto your hips like a lifeline. "Jesus." his eyes roll back. "You're so gorgeous. You are so sexy, so fucking thick and beautiful."

His words spur you on and you start to rock your hips, grabbing onto the headboard behind him for leverage. “You are gonna make me cum. You can’t cum until I tell you to. Do you understand?” You ask and he nods. You let go of the headboard to grip his chin, making his eyes meet yours, “do you understand? Use your words.”

"Yessss baby." Your eyes are so fucking familiar but he can't help to stare into them. Watching you start to take your pleasure from him. "Anything you want. I'll make you cum, I want to make you cum."

You let go of his chin, gripping the headboard again. You rock your hips, grinding on him and your clit rubs against his pelvis and you pant out. “So close.” You announce and Dieter looks at you in awe, “cum for me baby.” He orders and you rock faster, chest heaving until you shake above him, clamping down on his cock as you cum around him.

He groans, twitching in your walls as you soak him. Loving how you moan and shake for him. Watching every move you make as you cum. He whimpers, wanting to cum, but you had told him that he couldn't cum until you told him that he could.

You come to a stop, thighs shaking and you look at him once you open your eyes. “Don’t cum.” You remind him, staying still on top of him. “I want to cum again.” He whines and you gently slap his cheek, “don’t whine. You’re gonna wait to cum.” You demand, loving the look in his eyes as you take control.

His pupils are blown wide, nearly making his eyes black as he looks up at you. "Yes, n-nurse." He pants out, letting go of your hips to reach up and grab hold of the headboard. Needing it to ground himself so he doesn't cum. "I'll be good. Want you to cum."

You smirk, “such a good boy for me.” You coo, caressing his cheek and you start to move again. You feel powerful and in control, something you’ve never felt when dealing with Dieter. “You’re - you’re so good.” You moan, starting to move a little faster and you bounce in his cock, spurred on by the power over him as he lays beneath you.

“All for you, baby.” He groans, closing his eyes for a moment so he doesn’t blow. Especially because your tits are in his face. “God, you ride my dick so well. It’s - fuck- you’re a dick riding artist.”

You moan, loving the praise, and you rock a little faster, your clit rubbing against his pelvis and you’re getting closer to another orgasm. “Shit. I- It’s - Shit. Shit. Cum with me. Cum for me.” You plead, wanting him to fall over the edge with you.

Dieter shudders, whining and immediately rocking his hips up to thrust up into you. “Yes baby, fuck, yes.” He moans, feeling his toes curling and his body starting to shake as he gets close to cumming. “Gonna cum.” He cries, thrusting up to bury his cock deep in your pussy as he paints your walls with his cum.

You cry out, shaking above him again and you love how it feels to have him fill you up, his cock twitching inside of you. You bounce on him until you come to a stop and his hips thrust up to ride his high as you clamp down on him. “Oh my God.” You pant, collapsing forward to rest on his chest. “Such - so good for me.” You exhale shakily.

“Ohhh that was so good.” He preens under the praise, his arms wrapping around you and he kisses whatever part of you he can reach, “so good. Don’t, fuck- we need another drink, right?” He asks, thirsty after the sex and he knows you have to be.

“Another drink.” You agree and he kisses along your neck as he rolls you onto your side, his softening cock slipping out of you. “You want - I can get your drink.” You slip into old habits as you look at your boss while he relaxes on his expensive sheets.

“That was good.” He shoves his hand behind his head and watches you. Frowning slightly when you seem to know exactly how the bar is laid out.

You work fast to prepare his favorite drink…tequila and soda with a lime and a salted rim. He loves to order it. You set it down on the nightstand and pick up your own vodka and cran, shifting awkwardly after you wiped his cum from between your legs with some cocktail napkins.

“Do you want to go back to the party or have our own party up here for the rest of the night?” Dieter asks, rolling over slightly to grab his drink and grinning lecherously at you. Normally he would be itching to join the party, but not tonight. He’s being greedy, wanting more time with you.

You know you should leave but you’ll only have Dieter for tonight before he passes out and likely forgets you even existed. Especially since he doesn’t recognize you. You sip your drink and smirk, “I thought you were gonna snort coke off of my tits first?”

"Oooooh yeah, that's right." He lights up and sets the tequila down to open the drawer of the nightstand to pull a small baggie out. "Can I? Maybe off your pussy too?" He groans. "The fucking taste of your cum, my cum and coke would be amazing, baby."

You nod, wanting to see this unhinged side of Dieter you’ve heard so much about and the drugs you’ve taken have made you loose and relaxed enough to enjoy yourself. “Whatever you want. I’m yours for tonight.”

"My little cum doll." He trills in delight and then grins, opening the packet and standing up to dip the tip of his cock in the cocaine. "Lay down and spread those gorgeously thick thighs, nurse. I have to apply the medicine to your pussy lips."

You inhale sharply at the way he kneels between your thighs and you spread them, watching as his eyes darken when he sees the remnants of his cum on your folds. "Dieter." You whimper when the head of his cock traces your cunt.

"It's okay, pretty nurse." He teases, knowing that he's switched to be more dominant right now. He goes that frequently. "Dieter’s gonna take care of you.” While he's tracing his coke laced cock through your folds, he uses his other hand to pour a line of the white powder out over your soft tits. "Fuck, you look like a fucking meal."

Your chest heaves as you watch him, almost animalistic in his gaze, and you whimper when he lets go of his cock to grab your tit, lifting it up so he can lean down to snort some coke off of your skin.

Your skin is damp with sweat and it makes him groan at the smell of you and the powder. Snorting up the line quickly, and following it up with his tongue to make sure he gets every spec of the coke off your body before he drags his tongue over to your nipple to start sucking on it hungrily again. You are letting him indulge and he wants to make sure he does everything he can think of to make this fun.

You whimper, running your fingers through his hair as he sucks on your nipple. “That - that feel good, baby?” You ask him, wondering if he feels as good as you do. “Fuck. I- I want you to suck it off my pussy.” You tell him, wanting to feel his tongue again.

“Fuck yes.” Dieter groans, popping off your nipple and immediately diving down below. “Look at that.” He huffs, pulling your lips apart to see his cum gathered in your folds and specks of the Coke mixed with it and your own juices. “Like a perfect, creamy dessert.” He dives in eagerly, burying his tongue into your cunt, headless of his own taste.

“Oh shit!” You gasp as he laps at your cunt, cocaine intermingled with your combined cum and he is ravenous, lapping at you like a man starved. You tangle your fingers in his hair and moan, your thighs pressed against his cheeks.

Dieter moans, continuously lapping at your clit and making sure that he cleans up every flake of the cocaine off your pussy. Addicted to this filth of the action and how much you are enjoying it as well. He groans, sliding his hands up to squeeze your breasts as he tries to drown himself in your cunt.

“Holy shit.” You moan loud and proud as his tongue works magic again. Your hands cover his over your tits and you rock your hips up to meet his mouth. “Fuck baby. Your mouth- so good. Not just for acting.” You tease breathlessly.

He looks up at you and winks, lifting his mouth up off your clit for a split second. "Knew you recognized me." He crows before he descends on your cunt again. Eager to make you cum.

You chuckle, “everyone knows you. I just liked pulling your leg.” You lift your leg onto his shoulder so he can push his tongue deeper inside of your pussy, “fuckkk. That’s - right there.” You pant as he sucks on your clit like it’s a hard candy.

He huffs into your folds, squeezing your tits again and if he's offended, he doesn't show it. Determine to prove that he can make you cum harder than before.

Your thighs shake as he works you up until you are squealing as you cum again. Your thighs threaten to smother him and your walls clamp down around nothing as he makes you cum harder than before. “Oh God.” You pant, your fingers tugging on his hair to keep him there.

He chuckles, lightening up on the pressure of his tongue and he slowly laps on your clit. Enjoying the feeling of your fingers tugging on his hair. He loves when he makes someone feel good so they lavish praises on him.

You try to catch your breath as he laps at your skin, trailing from your belly to your tits. “God. Are you - are you hard?” You ask, reaching down to wrap your fingers around him when you get your answer. “You want to fuck me again? Or me to suck you off?”

Dieter groans, rocking his hips up into your hand. "Fuck baby, I want whatever you want." He starts to babble. "I just want you to touch me. Be with me."

“Let me suck you off.” You order and push on his chest. He lays down and you shuffle down his body, taking his cock into your mouth without hesitation, wanting to taste him. To hear him whine.

"Oh fuck, oh shit baby." Dieter's moans are loud, his eyes clenching tight. "Your mouth is so fucking good. Oh God, holy shit.' He pants out, reaching down to cup your cheek. "You're so good to me."

He’s thick but you won’t quit as you take him deeper, pushing him down your throat and you breathe harshly through your nose as you try to stop gagging. Your eyes meet his and you slide your hand up to fondle his balls.

“Oh fuck, yess.” He moans. “Okay, with my balls, just like that.” He’s falling in love. A filthy girl who loves sex and drugs? Absolutely in love. “You’re perfect, so fucking perfect, baby.”

His praises spur you on and you roll his balls between your fingers until you slide your hand lower to caress the skin between his balls and his ass. His cock twitches inside of you and you move your finger further back, caressing his puckered hole until you gently push your finger inside, his cock still down your throat.

“Oh shiiiiiiiiiit.” Dieter chokes out, surprised by the finger but clamping down around it as you press against his prostate. “Gonna cum!” He whines, the combination of your mouth and fingering his ass has him over the edge quicker than before.

You swallow around him, his cum spurting down your throat and you work him through it, enjoying the wrecked look on his face and the way he sounds like you’ve just swallowed his soul.

“Oh god. Oh fuck. You’re so- I fuckin’ love your mouth.” Dieter pulls you up, wanting to kiss you, snuggle into you. “You’re gonna stay, right?” He asks, suddenly exhausted from the sex.

You nod, the high fading along with the pleasure and you shift to lay down on his pillows after gently withdrawing from his body. His arms wrap around you and you can’t resist curling into his chest, kissing the space above his heart. “I’ll stay.”

**** 

Dieter always wakes up slowly. Especially after a night of partying. He snorts, coughing and starts to peel his eyes open. Wrapped around a pillow, he turns over and expects to see the goddess that had graced his bed, changed his fucking world last night. Frowning when he sees empty, rumpled sheets. “Nurse?” He calls out, sitting up and looking towards the bathroom. It’s crazy he didn’t get a name, but he’s going to change that this morning. “Baby? Are you taking a piss?”

**** 

You freak out when you get home, not even bothering to shower at Dieter’s and you can’t believe you slept with your boss. Your head aches from the hangover and you just want to get in the shower and pass out for a few hours. Thankfully, Dieter likely won’t surface until noon so you have some time before you have to be at his house with his post party McDonald’s that he always denies. You get in the shower, washing him off you and you pray he doesn’t recognize you in the light of day.

Walking through the house reveals plenty of people who passed out, a lamp that’s been destroyed, but no nurse. He’s upset, confused as to why she didn’t stay when she promised she would and trudges back upstairs to climb back in the bed again. Depressed that the woman who had made him feel amazing had just left without a word. He knows how Cinderella's prince feels now.

You make your way over to Dieter’s to find the normal clean up crew sorting out his home and you carry his McDonalds meal through the house to see what he is up to. You find him sitting in bed with his glasses on, looking through his notebook. “How are you feeling, boss?” You ask him, wondering if he will realize it’s you and praying he doesn’t. Dieter might’ve wanted you last night but you know he’d hate to find out it’s you in the cold light of day.

“Do you have a list of all the guests invited?” Dieter asks you, frowning as he looks up at you. He almost asks if you had come, but then he realizes that would be ridiculous, you hate spending time with him unless it’s to do your job. “No, she said she was party crashing.” He sighs. “Do we have cameras here? I don’t know.” It’s crazy, but he doesn’t know what his security system entails. 

“Who- who are you looking for?” You ask after clearing your throat and you set the food down on the nightstand as he sits there, naked under the sheets most likely with his glasses perched on his nose.

"I met someone." Dieter tells you. "She's perfect and I need to find her, find out why she left this morning and convince her to - to date me." He huffs. "She's my Cinderella and I have wig that's her glass slipper." He reaches over and holds up the wig that she had worn for you to see. "Except I think that's a ‘one size fits all’ kind of thing."

You are shocked he wants to see "you/her" again after you figured he'd move on to his next conquest. The mystery nurse might be the topic of conversation for today but you know Dieter will forget come tomorrow. "Yeah. Those are one size fits all." You confirm, biting your lip as he checks the wig for any clues. "What was so special about this one?"

“She was amazing.” Dieter gushes, sighing and smiling as he remembers the night. “Sexy, bold enough to keep me on my toes.” His cock twitches under the sheets. “Sat on my face and rode my cock like a fucking goddess. I’ve got to find her. Wanted to take her out.”

You are shocked at the lovestruck look on his face but you know he’s just pussy drunk. “Oh, uh, wow. She was that good?” You can’t deny that you’re a little pleased that you’ve gotten Dieter in this state. You snort when he nods rapidly. “Wow. You can’t have a lot of people finger your ass.” You murmur.

"What did you say?" Dieter eyes widen drastically and he lurches forward to grab your hand. "Do you know her? Did she say something? You have to give me her number." The only way you know about that detail is if she told you.

You curse your slip up, letting him squeeze your hand. “I- I don’t know her. I haven’t spoken to anyone. I don’t have her number.” You answer his questions, “besides, I thought you were in love with that model you fucked a couple of weeks ago.”

"I didn't fuck her." Dieter admits, letting go of your hand and shaking his head. 

"Bullshit Dee, I was there when you two were getting out of bed." 

He winces and groans. "I- I was too fucked up. I couldn't- it doesn't matter. I don't give a shit about her. I want the woman from last night." He huffs.

You huff, “doesn’t matter. I’m gonna have to get tested now. Fucking drugs making me forget to be serious and I - i shouldn’t have come to the party last night. Not when you want someone like that model. You want an actress or a model. Someone who can understand your job and who is gorgeous and thin and perfect.”

Dieter frowns, trying to understand and then it hits him. "You?" He gasps out, his jaw dropping. "It was you? Why would you- why didn't you?" He frowns again. "You lied to me." Dieter murmurs. "Why would you lie to me?"

You wince, stepping away from him. “I had to. I- I crashed your party because you didn’t invite me. You’re just- you want your models and your actors here to party with you and I wanted a night off to pretend to be someone else and I ended up being myself with you…just in costume. I’m sorry I lied. I- I’ll hand my resignation in to your manager this afternoon.”

You turn around to start walking out of his bedroom and Dieter jumps out of the bed. Not giving a damn if he's still naked, he rushes forward to stop you. "No! Don't, you can't resign. Please." He begs, grabbing your hand and tugging you to a stop.

You turn to look at him in shock. “I- I don’t understand. You slept with me last night. Me. The woman who gets your coffee. That sees the worst parts of you when you’re high and you still want me here after you fucked me? Are you sure? I- I’m surprised you’re not grossed out.”

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He frowns, angry that someone would say something like that about you. "Who would be grossed out? You're my sexy, naughty nurse? I can't- it's amazing. I've never felt as good as I have with you. Last night was - you let me snort and lick coke off your body. You- you made me cum so fucking hard that I swear I saw stars. Why wouldn't I want you here? I wanted you here when I woke up."

“You say that now but I know you’ll get tired of me. You’ll move on to the next best thing when they come along and I- shit - I know you will get bored of me. I’m the new shiny toy. The shine will wear it off and you’ll fire me.” You sigh, “let’s just skip to the firing part, okay? I misled you. I- I tricked you. You should be mad at me.”

"Why? Why would I get bored of you?" Dieter feels like you are rejecting him and he doesn't like it. "Was it- was it just bragging rights?" He asks quietly. "To say you fucked your boss? A conquest?"

Your eyes widen, “no. No. I- trust me, Dieter. The last thing I expected when I came to the party was to sleep with you. I thought you were messing with me at first when you told me to sit on your face. When you didn’t recognize me…I guess I just wanted to be on the receiving end of your flirting…to feel wanted for once.” You confess softly, avoiding his gaze. “I know I was a one time thing. We had a good time and now…well, my fate is in your hands.”

Dieter frowns, trying to understand why you hadn’t stayed. Why you had run away and left him wondering what the hell he had done wrong. “Why is it a one time thing?” He asks, confused. 

You snort and toss up your hands. “You hit on everyone. Anyone with a pulse. Anyone but me. I know I’m not your type. I’m too- too not a model.” 

Dieter stares at you for a moment before he starts to laugh. “Not my type! You think you’re not my type?” He doubles over laughing and you huff. 

“You’ve never once even looked my way.” You remind him. 

“That’s because Tina threaten to cut my dick off if I hit on you and drove you away!” He tells you, having run off too many assistants before he had found you. “Threatened my dick!”

You chuckle, knowing Tina has been a massive part of controlling him when he threatens to go off the rails. “I must admit I’ve thought about doing that a lot too.” You reveal, “let’s just - just call this what it is. A mistake. You want me now because I’m unattainable but as soon as you take me out and we sleep together a few times, you’ll get bored and move on to the next pretty thing. That’s what you do. I don’t want to risk my job…our working relationship.”

Dieter sighs, knowing he can’t convince you to give him a chance. “That’s not what I want, but okay.” He turns around and walks back to the bed slowly. Wanting to crawl in and just pretend he had never woken up. “Just- I don’t care, I guess I had an amazing dream last night.”

You nod, knowing this is for the best, so you clear your throat. “I’ll - I’ll head home. Your food is getting cold. Text me if you need anything else.” You tell him and shuffle awkwardly when he doesn’t respond so you exit his bedroom and make your way out of his house, tears in your eyes because your boss will never feel the same way you do, even if he doesn’t know how you feel.

Dieter considers getting high. He considers calling up someone to come over and fuck him. Ignoring the food you had left, he wallows in bed, listening to the cleaning service the party planner had hired to clean up today. Wondering why he had not recognized you when it’s so fucking obvious now. Feeling alone and miserable and hating that his hopeful plans had been crushed. You don’t want him and it’s killing him because you should be throwing yourself at him.

You head home, not sure how you even get there as you grip the steering wheel and wonder how he didn’t recognize you. You wish you could turn around, go and see him, but you can’t. He’d just break your heart. When you get home, your roommate is lounging on the sofa and she says she’s heading out tonight too, going to this new bar if you wanna join her. Usually, you’d have to say no in case you need to be sober and on call for Dieter but you decide to say fuck it and tell her you’ll go. You get ready, dressing in a cute dress to try and make yourself feel better and you head out to the bar. “What’s got you down?” Your roommate asks as she leans against her boyfriend and you shake your head, picking up your drink to down it. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You confess and she scoffs, “is it your asshole boss again? Seriously, he’s a fucking jackass. I don’t know why you don’t quit.” She says and you shake your head, needing another drink. 

“You don’t know what it’s like…I- I can’t quit because I - shit. It doesn’t matter.” You huff and stand up to get another drink. You’re set on getting drunk tonight to try and forget all about your boss. You need to forget about him.

Dieter sighs as he flips through the channels. Hating how he has the biggest cable package and there isn’t shit to watch. He is bored and the idea of partying just sours on his stomach, so he’s sitting at home like an asshole, pining over his assistant. His phone buzzes and he almost ignores it, but he looks over and sees that it’s you. Scrambling to answer it. “Hello? Hello? I’m here. Hey.”

You lean against the bar, "you - you bastard." You slur slightly and Dieter pulls back to look at the phone in shock. 

"Excuse me?" He asks and you chuckle. 

"You he-heard me. You fucking bastard. You sexy...funny...talented, asshole. So - so fucking handsome and God, now I know how good you are in bed and I - you bastard." You repeat, the phone pressed against your ear.

“You’re drunk.” He chuckles, realizing that you have apparently had a little too much to drink after leaving here. 

“And? What of it?” You huff. “I’m a -a adult. I can drink if I want to.” 

Dieter grins, enjoying the slightly belligerent attitude and the sass. “Yes you can, and you licked Coke off my dick if I remember right.” He hums, leaning back against the pillows. “Where are you?”

You ramble off the bar name without thinking, lost in your thoughts, and you continue, "yes. Yes I did. And you fucking loved it. I can't - I can't get your face out of my mind. You looked - God, so sexy. Wish I could've taken a photo. Only chance I'm gonna have to see it."

“That’s not true.” Dieter decides he’s going to get you, getting out of the bed and putting pants on. They are sweats, in better condition than his normal outfits. “You saw my face today.” You huff, blowing a raspberry through the phone. “You know what I mean.” That makes Dieter chuckle as he bounds down the stairs and grabs his car keys. “You looked sexy on my face.” He tells you. “Fucking tasted even better.”

You groan, “see? It’s shit like that that has me in this trouble. You can’t - you can’t just say that and not expect people to fall in love with you.” You rub your eye, smudging your mascara. “You - you’re a horny bastard and you will fuck anyone. I’m not special. Just the flavor of the week.”

Dieter knows you won’t believe him if he says that’s not true. He would have to prove it to you. “So you fell in love with me?” He hones in on that line as he speeds down the road towards the bar you named. It’s one he knows pretty damn well and he wonders if you chose it for that reason. “Because I fucked you? Because of the tongue thing?”

“Nooooo.” You whine, “it’s not - I mean, the tongue thing was fucking amazing but no. It’s - it’s you. I see a side of you that no one else sees and you are a good man. You don’t think you are because you think you have to have this fucking persona, but you’re sweet and kind when you want to be. God, you just - you need someone to ground you.” You sigh, leaning against the bar. “And that person- you need someone incredible.”

“I found someone incredible.” In that, Dieter is completely honest. He realized he doesn’t care about how famous his partner is or what drugs they take. He wants someone who makes him feel like you did last night. “Someone I want to be with.” He hopes you realize he’s talking about you. You should. “I’m going to pick her up right now.”

You don’t pick up what he’s saying too busy moping as you nurse your drink and you sigh down the phone. “Of course you are. I bet she’s perfect for you.” You huff and he chuckles as he pulls into the parking lot. 

“She is.” He says and you groan, “of course. Fuck. I- I hope she makes you happy.” You say and you don’t see him standing in the doorway to the bar.

“She does.” He answers and your roommate’s eyes widen when she sees Dieter walking towards you. “I - I want you to be happy. You deserve it.”

“Just have to convince her to go home with me.” He tells you, walking up and pulling his phone away from his ear. “Hey baby.” He grins when your head snaps up and you stare at him with a shocked expression. “What are you doing- I’m here?” You ask and he snorts. 

“I’m trying to convince the woman I love to come home with me. She’s drunk right now, so I’m hoping she’s crazy enough to believe me when I tell her I want to be with her. Spend all my nights with her. Pleasure her. Because I love her.”

You stare at him in shock, glancing behind you to make sure he wasn’t talking to someone else. “Me?” You ask, pointing to yourself and he nods, chuckling at you. You stumble as you surge forward, cupping his cheeks as you lean in to kiss him.

Dieter laughs as you kiss him, wrapping his arms around you and holds you close. “I love you, baby.” He promises, pressing his lips to yours again and again while your roommate watches on in shock.

“Take me home.” You plead, suddenly desperate for him and your roommate stands up to come over and ask if you’re okay. “Okay? I’m - I’m on top of the world.” You promise her, slurring slightly. “Dieter is gonna take me home.”

She frowns and turns to Dieter. “She’s drunk.” She huffs, poking him in the chest. “She can’t do anything.” Dieter rolls his eyes and grabs your roommate's hand and pats it, “I’m going to take her home and put her to bed.” He promises her quietly. “I don’t want to take advantage of her. I just want to sleep beside her and wake up with her like I should have this morning.”

Your roommates eyes widen, “wait - you- you slept together last night?” She asks and you answer before Dieter does. “Yesss and he was incredible. Made me cum so many times and his tongue…talented for more than just acting, I’ll tell you that.”

He smirks proudly and looks back at your roommate. “I’m going to take her home with me. But don’t worry.” He tells her seriously. “I’m not that kind of man. I like complete and enthusiastic consent and if she’s drunk and I’m sober? That shit doesn’t work for me.”

You lean against him, kissing his neck. “You better look after her.” Your roommate narrows her eyes at him. “I will.” He promises her, wrapping his arm around your waist to steady you. “Come on baby, let’s get you home to bed. To sleep.” He adds and you pout, saying goodbye to your roommate with “bye babe. I’m gonna go ride this gorgeous face.” You say, squeezing Dieter’s chin as he guides you to his car.

Dieter chuckles as he opens the door for you and you don’t want to let him go. It’s strange to be the one taking care of you, but he kind of likes it. “The sooner we get home, the sooner you can climb into bed with me.” He tells you, using the same tactics you use on him. Bribery.

You get in his car and when he’s inside and driving to your place, you reach over to squeeze his cock through his pants. “God. Your cock is so beautiful. Should’ve been a porn star. You would’ve made double the money you’ve made.” You giggle, wanting to suck his cock again.

“Fuck, you’re so horny when you’re drunk.” He groans, hating that you’re drunk and he’s sober. He reaches for your hand and takes it off his cock, squeezing it and putting it on his thigh so he can back out of the parking space. “What changed your mind baby?” He asks. “You were convinced I wouldn’t want you.”

You sigh, lifting your hand off of his thigh to lean your head against the cool glass of the passenger window. “I just want you to fuck me one last time before you lose interest and get distracted to go with someone else.”

“Why do you think I’ll lose interest?” He asks seriously. “Have I ever run after someone? Chased them?”

You close your eyes, suddenly exhausted, “no. You - you never chase. You want people to come to you. To make you feel special. You want validation and - and you get it. From whoever you want. I’m not enough for you.” You confess, knowing you’re spilling your guts again.

“Didn’t I just come to you?” He asks, reaching over and taking your hand. “I just chased you down and I’m dragging you back to my bed.” He snorts. “And I’m not even going to fuck you tonight. I just want to wrap my arms around you and sleep. Give you water and aspirin so you aren’t hung over. Hold your hair if you need to puke.”

He is soon putting the car in park and you are nearly asleep against the window, enjoying the coolness of the glass and you smile against it. “Just tonight. Let me have tonight.” You plead softly.

“You’ll have tonight.” He promises, getting out of the car to walk around and help you out. Not rushing you into the house to fuck you, he grins as you nearly stumble. “You’re so fucking cute.”

You lean against him, desperately wanting to strip off and get into bed, and his arm wraps around your waist. “I got you, baby.” He promises, “gonna get you some water and aspirin.” He assures you and you turn your head to kiss his neck, “thank you.”

He hums, enjoying the kiss but he can’t kiss you, not when you are like this. He guides you into the house and upstairs. “Let me get that water, baby.” He murmurs softly. “You get in the bed.”

You don’t argue, stripping down to your underwear and you slide under the covers. “Come here baby. I want you to fuck me.” You order, wanting him to touch you while you know he still wants you.

Dieter grabs a water and the aspirin, thankful for the little fridge you keep stocked for him. “I can’t fuck you, baby.” He groans, walking over to the bed. “You’re drunk.”

You huff, pulling the covers over your head and you close your eyes. “Knew it was too good to be true.” You murmur, feeling yourself starting to drift off to sleep even though you want Dieter.

Dieter sighs, setting the water down on the nightstand next to you and shuts off the light. He strips back down and climbs under the covers next to you, cuddling against your huddled body. “It’s not too good to be true.” He murmurs, sliding his arm around you. “I’ll show you when you wake up sober.”

When you wake up, your head is throbbing. Worse than your hangover from the day before, and you wince as the sunlight peaks through the blinds. A warm body is pressed against you and you gasp, remembering that you called Dieter last night. “Fuck.” You curse yourself for giving in to your damn feelings.

Dieter tightens his hold on you and grunts when he feels you shift. “Gonna throw up, baby?” He mumbles, lifting his head and cracking one eye open to look over at you. “Trash can is right by the table.”

You weren’t but now that he’s mentioned it, you scramble to grab the trash can, just barely making it before you throw up. Two nights of drinking when you rarely drink has fucked you up and you gag as you throw up the bile and booze from your stomach.

“’s okay.” He pets your hair and holds it back, rubbing your back sympathetically just like you always do for him. Wanting to take care of you, “water and aspirin is on the table.” He reminds you.

You set the trash can down, wiping your face with the back of your hand as you reach for the water, downing half of the bottle before you swallow the aspirin. “Sorry. I know you hate people being gross around you.” You murmur, swallowing some more water.

“You were drunk.” He hums, rubbing your back. “It happens. Fuck knows I’ve been sick enough around you.” He chuckles quietly. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”

You shake your head, “I need to go to the bathroom and I need to brush my teeth.” You smack your lips, hating the feeling after throwing up and you know Dieter keeps new brushes in there for his guests. He nods and you make your way into the bathroom to pee and wash your face before you brush your teeth. You come back into his room to find him still in bed and you sit on the edge. “I, uh, I’m sorry about last night. Calling you while I was drunk…wasn’t very professional of me.”

Dieter shakes his head, sitting up. “I’m glad you called me. Come lay back down.” He urges, holding up the covers but you shake your head and he sighs. “Great.” He huffs. “You’re going to leave again. Because you don’t think that I want you.” He frowns, upset that you continuously think he’s lying. “Fine, go, fuck.” He spits, lurching out of the bed to stomp into the bathroom. “For someone who claims that I would get bored and find someone else, all you’re fucking doing is driving me away.”

“Because I’m trying to protect myself. You aren’t exactly Mr. Commitment and I know - I fucking know that you will want someone who won’t embarrass you at events…pap photos…the life you lead means someone like you shouldn’t be with someone like me. I’m trying to protect myself and you- you’re just - fuck. I wish I was still drunk and believe that you could feel the same way I do.”

“What a fucking bunch of horseshit.” Dieter pokes his head out from the bathroom and shoots you a glare. “I don’t give a goddamn what people think of me. And I would never be embarrassed that a sexy woman want me. Who gives a fuck if you’re not everyone’s ideal woman? You’re mine. But that doesn’t fucking matter because you’ve got it stuck in your head that I’m some kind of monster.” He growls, slapping his hand against the frame. “I am trying to - fuck it, it doesn’t matter. Just get out.” He demands. “Get out if you don’t believe me.” He repeats quietly, closing his eyes. “I’m tired of being rejected by the woman I love.” He disappears back into the bathroom and sighs.

“Wait…” You stand up on shaky legs, “you- you love me? Like in love or just love me as a person or a friend?” You ask for clarity, confused and hopeful as your heart flutters in your chest, the bathroom door still open so you walk towards it.

Dieter is naked, standing in front of the mirror and loading up his tooth brush to clean his teeth when you walk in and stand in the doorway, watching him with an almost hopeful look on your face. “Like in love with a gorgeous, sexy, kind, wonderful woman who I had the most amazing fucking night with, even if I didn’t know it was her, and I want to repeat it. Every night, for as long as she’s not tired of my shit. And, you know, take you out and shit. Show you off on the red carpet.”

You stand frozen, watching him brush his teeth, and you see yourself in the mirror and you feel his words settle over you. He loves you. He’s in love with you. You walk over to the counter, standing next to him. “When did you - when did you fall in love with me?” You wonder if it was that night or if he’s felt like this for a while.

Spitting out the tooth paste, he looks at you and sighs, turning back to the mirror. “Year and a half ago?” He admits. “After …. After the Anika thing went south and you stayed over and let me be a pathetic asshole and mope around.” He shrugs. “I thought it was rebound shit, but I wasn’t fucking you and the feelings never went away.”

You’re surprised. He’s never indicated that he felt that way. He had been nicer after that time, more considerate to you. Didn’t call you randomly at 3 am for you to grab a script or some stupid shit like that. “I, uh, I’ve been in love with you since before we went to England for you to fall in love with Anika. You, uh, you were doing a script read for that movie and you looked so into your work, so passionate. I saw you in a new light and uh, yeah. It wasn’t fun to watch you wanna be with Anika but I never imagined you’d want me. So, uh, yeah…I’m in love with you too.” You confess, keeping your gaze on his in the mirror.

"Why wouldn't I want you?" That is what keeps upsetting him. "You don't think you're beautiful? You're not sexy?" He asks you seriously. "Since when does your size, your weight, make you unattractive?" He asks seriously. "You've got a gorgeous face, a wonderful personality. Amazing tits, killer ass, thick- luscious thighs and a pussy that had me jerking off like four times today." He huffs. "So don't tell me that you can't believe that I'm not wanting you."

You sigh, “honestly? My mom - she put me on a diet when I was ten. I went to weight watchers by thirteen. She told me I’d never get a boyfriend if I didn’t lose weight. No one would want to marry a fat girl. I never got asked out in high school or college. Never got asked to prom. I was always the funny one…the friend…never the one that guys wanted. My friends? They’d ask them out but never me. I’ve never seen myself as - as a leading lady so to speak and that’s why I’m like this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I keep pushing my insecurities on you but you’re so handsome and funny and I hear my mother’s voice telling me this is too good to be true. That I’m not good enough for this.”

"Fuck your mom." Dieter huffs, pushing away from the sink and tossing his tooth brush down on the counter before he reaches for your hand. "You're hungover, just threw up and you're doing this to me." He takes your hand and pulls it to his hard cock. "I'm a jerk. I'm shallow, I'm fucking horny and you think I will fuck anything with a pulse. That used to be true. But I don't want to fuck just anyone. I want to fuck you. I want that sexy fucking girl who sat on my face and rode my dick like she was a cowgirl and let me just - fuck baby." He twitches in your hand at the thought. "You don't judge me for being myself. I love that and I love you."

You stare at him, processing his words and your fingers flex around his cock. “God, Dee.” You murmur, stepping closer to him and you let go of his cock to wrap your arms around his neck. “I love you. I love you. Please don’t hurt me.” You plead softly, clinging to him.

Dieter turns his head, kissing you gently despite you getting sick earlier. “I don’t want to, baby.” He promises. “I want- I want to take care of you.” It’s surprising, since he’s the one who is normally cared for, but he wants to try something different with you. “You want to go back to bed?” He offers quietly, “to rest. I know you have a killer headache. You drank a lot apparently.”

You nod, ready to lay down again. “Come on. I want to cuddle, Bravo.” You smile as he nods and you slide under his covers again, sighing in relief as you get to close your eyes and you feel him behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “You maybe want to fuck the hangover away?” You ask, tracing the freckles on his forearm.

“Do you want to?” Dieter asks, smirking as he presses his face into the back of your neck. His cock is poking against your ass. “I can keep it slow. Not jar you too much.” He hums. “Fuck you just like this while I rub your clit? Or you want to lay under me?”

“Like this. Want you to fuck me like this. Lazy and slow. We aren’t in a rush.” You grind back against him, “I just want to feel connected to you. I want to feel you.” You murmur, reaching back to run your fingers through his hair.

Dieter hums and closes his eyes at the feeling of your fingers through his hair. Sliding his hand between you so he can grip his cock and shuffles forward. “I can do that. I can make it good for you, baby.”

You pull your panties aside for him and he notches himself at your entrance and pushes into you. “Shit.” You moan, eyes closing as he slowly stretches you out. “God, I love you.” You murmur, leaning against his body as his hand slides up to cup your breast.

“Fuck, I love you.” He hums. “I can’t believe that was you and I didn’t recognize you.” He admits breathlessly. “I should have. I think about you all the time.”

You chuckle breathily, “to be fair…I was wearing a wig and I- I was dressed in something I would never wear except it was one of the costumes my roommate has.” You tell him with a smirk as he rocks into you and you squeeze over his hand on your breast.

“Love your roommate.” He grunts. “Need her to give you more outfits to wear.” He jokes. “But you need to, fuck, tell her that I didn’t touch you last night.” He pants out. “Think she might cut my balls off.”

You snort as his hips press against your ass. “I’ll tell her. She - she isn’t your biggest fan because she’s been there during all the 3am calls and late night runs to get you what you want.” You confess, grabbing his hand and sliding it down into your panties until his fingers find your clit.

Dieter groans when you clench down around him, rubbing your clit just to hear you moan his name quietly. “Yeah but I’m good.” He protests. “I’m gonna make you feel so good baby.”

Whimpering, you relax against him and let him rut into you, his fingers on your clit and he rubs a little faster as you get closer to your orgasm, spurred on by the feelings shared between you. “Dee. I’m - I’m gonna cum.” You warn him, your head on his shoulder.

“That’s good, baby, you cum on my fingers and my cock.” He groans, kissing along your shoulder. “Want you to soak me like you did last night. Fuck, you were so sweet.”

You gasp, clamping down on his cock as he pushes into you while rubbing your clit. The orgasm flows through you slowly and your mouth opens in a silent cry as you soak him, your nails digging into his forearm.

“God that’s it. Soak me, baby. Fuck you’re so pretty when you cum.” He groans in your ear. Rubbing your clit to work you through it.

Panting, your walls flutter around him and you reach back to pull on his hair, "cum for me, Dee. Cum. Wanna feel it." You plead, feeling his thrusts get sloppy.

Dieter groans out your name, hisses at the flash of pain from having his hair pulled. “Oh fuck baby.” He groans, kissing along your neck, “gonna cum. Gonna fill you up.”

His hips push against your ass, his cock twitching and you moan when he starts to cum, filling you up with his hot seed and you turn your head to kiss his jaw. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” You ramble, loving how he feels, how he sounds, how he makes you feel.

His eyes slip closed and he whines your name again, holding you tight. Fucking blown away and amazed that you love him. That you want to be with him. He doesn’t want to fuck this up, doesn’t want to lose you. “I love you baby.” He groans. “Want to snort Coke off your tits forever.”

You giggle as he relaxes behind you, still inside of you, and you close your eyes. “You can. As long as you want me, I’m yours. We just gotta talk about me being your assistant and finding the balance between work and personal. We can talk about that later when you’re not inside of me.” You tease him.

“I don’t know if I can.” Dieter grunts. “I’m gonna be inside you all the time. You can be my ‘on the cock’ assistant.” He jokes, kissing your shoulder. “I want this to work. I know you have to be professional. I don’t want anyone talking bad about you.”

You hum, squeezing his hand as he kisses your shoulder again. “We will figure it out baby. We will. As long as we communicate and we love each other, we can face it all.” You promise and he smiles against your skin, “and you’ll get those costumes from your roommate?” He asks, “and the wigs.” You tease and he hisses in victory. “Fuck yes.” You giggle and snuggle into his expensive mattress, exhausted but excited. Crashing Dieter’s Halloween party turned out to be the best decision you’ve ever made.

[azastr]

Intoxicated Love

Cardan Greenbriar

Description : Drunk Cardan flirting with his wife

Warning : Drunk Cardan 🍷

Cardan stumbled through the grand halls of the Elfhame palace, his steps unsteady and his laughter ringing out. He had consumed more than his fair share of the potent faerie wine, and it had taken a toll on his balance. Despite his intoxication, however, his mischievous dark eyes glinted with amusement as he spotted his wife, Y/n, coming towards him. 

"Daaaaaarling~" Cardan slurred, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He sauntered to her, his tail swaying lazily behind him. "Come to rescue me from my own debauchery, have you?" 

Y/n's eyes sparkled with mirth as she approached him, her footsteps purposeful and confident. "Rescue is a strong word, Cardan," she retorted, her voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. "More like keeping an eye on you to ensure you don't embarrass yourself too much." 

Cardan feigned offense, a hand clutching his chest dramatically. "Embarrass myself? Never!" he exclaimed, his words accompanied by an unsteady sway. "I am the High King of Elfhame, after all. Embarrassment is beneath me." 

Y/n raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Beneath you, huh? Just like the wine you've been drinking tonight, I suppose." She reached out a hand to steady him, her touch firm but gentle. 

"Careful there, love," she said, her voice tinged with a mix of concern and a hint of sarcasm. "Don't want you stumbling and breaking that pretty face of yours." 

Cardan's eyes flickered with amusement as he leaned into her touch, his tail swaying lazily behind him. "Oh, but my dear Y/n, even if I were to break my face, I trust you'd still find me irresistible," he slurred, a playful smile tugging at his lips. 

Y/n raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk dancing on her own lips. "Irresistible might be a stretch, my love," she countered, her tone laced with feigned indifference. "But I suppose there's a certain charm to your drunken state." 

Cardan chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through the room. "You wound me, my love. Here I am, pouring my heart out, and you mock me." 

She chuckled, unable to hide her own amusement at his antics. "Well, pour your heart out more soberly next time, and maybe I'll take you seriously." 

Leaning closer to her, Cardan's voice dropped to a husky whisper, his breath warm against her ear. "But where's the fun in that, Y/n? You know I can't resist teasing you, especially when you react so delightfully." 

"You know," he slurred, his words whispered into her ear, "you're quite lovely tonight. Always lovely, of course, but tonight, especially so." 

Y/n rolled her eyes, but a faint blush tinged her cheeks. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Cardan," she replied, a hint of teasing in her voice. "Especially when you're inebriated."  

Y/n crossed her arms, studying him with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. "You never cease to amaze me, Cardan Greenbriar. How is it that a king can stumble around drunk in his own palace?" 

Cardan grinned mischievously. "Because, my love, being a king can be rather dull at times. And what better way to bring some excitement to my kingdom than by being a charmingly tipsy ruler?" 

Y/n's lips twitched into a playful smile. "Is this your way of suggesting a dance, my intoxicated king?" 

Cardan bowed dramatically, offering his hand. "Would you honor me with a dance, my cunning and beautiful wife?"  

Y/n took his hand, her fingers intertwining with his. "Only if you promise not to step on my toes, Your Majesty."  

Cardan laughed, his eyes alight with affection. "I make no such promises, my love. But I will do my best to keep up with your graceful steps." 

They moved to the center of the hall, the music of the fae filling the air. Cardan's steps were unsteady, but Y/n guided him with practiced ease. They twirled and spun, their laughter echoing through the grand chamber. 

In that moment, they were not a king and a human girl hated by the fae. They were simply Cardan and Y/n, two souls entwined in a dance that defied the odds. And as they laughed and teased each other under the moonlit sky, their love shone brightly, casting a light that even the darkest shadows of Elfhame couldn't extinguish. 

______________________________________________________________

Not me drowning in the imagines of this beautiful fae

[wooahaeproductions]

You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright)

Lee Jihoon (Woozi) x Female Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, fake dating au, 90s au, ex-best friends au, and heavily based off the movie You Drive Me Crazy

Word Count: 15.2k (IM SO SORRY🙃 )

Warnings: language, mentions of terminal illness and death, bullying, drinking, drunken bad ideas, mentions of medicine, cheating, breakups, general college debauchery, making fun of furs in the fashion industry (used only to go with the 90s vibes), lots of feelings and oppressing them, jokes and conversations about sex, making out and kissing, and mentions of vomiting.

Smut Warnings: a little dry humping, semi public sex in a backyard treehouse? and protected sex (honestly the smut in this is pretty vanilla)

Rating: 18+

A/N: After forever, I’m excited to present this fic to you. I have never written anything this long before so once again I am sorry. Thank you to @beomcoups and @mingsolo for hosting the Now That’s 90’s! collab, as a 90s kid myself it was my pleasure to participate. Please go check out all the other amazing writers who joined as well!

Special thanks to Indi @playmetheclassics and Sammie @slightlymore for beta reading this monster for me. You guys are the best and I love you 💕 ~Bee

Network tags: @kbookshelf

With one last glance at your appearance in the mirror, you grabbed your bookbag from the chair in the corner of your room. You headed down the long curved staircase before opening the front door of the sorority house. 

You were almost going to be late, and to make matters worse, you came face-to-face with your enemy at the end of the driveway. Which wasn’t that unusual since he walked this way too, despite living further away, but you tried your best to avoid him anyway.

“Ew, what are you doing here?” Jihoon asks, walking past you at the driveway and lifting his lip in disgust.

“I live at the sorority, remember, asshole?” you spat, hating the fact that you had to walk in the same direction to get to campus. You two had been this way for a long time now, and it had become a habit to be prickly toward him. 

It hadn’t always been like that, though. In fact, you guys used to be best friends, completely inseparable. At least until his mom got sick when you were in junior high, and he started hanging out with some different people and getting into trouble. You then got in with the popular kids, and you and Jihoon have become enemies ever since. 

You two walked stiffly beside each other as you reached the edge of campus, and Jihoon’s friends appeared. Seokmin put him in a small headlock, and Seungkwan gave you a small smile while Wonwoo just shook his head. You actually knew his three best friends as well. You all used to hang out way back when. You smiled meekly back before arms wrapped around your shoulders, and your boyfriend, Johnny, had found you as well. 

“Hey, babe,” Johnny said, smacking a kiss near your ear. You resisted the urge to cringe. He was in the popular crowd too, a football player. While he wasn’t that bad and was easy on the eyes, he was boring, only caring about football and whatever party was next to attend. You missed having someone with a level of intelligence, someone you could debate things with like you used to do with Jihoon. It didn’t matter, though. You were enemies now, and nothing would change that. 

You made it through your first few classes, and you were having lunch in the courtyard with Johnny along with what you considered the entire popular crew, including your best friend, Jennie. You sat at a long table, eating a sandwich while everyone talked about the next football game and a party at Mingyu’s that was happening later. 

Across the courtyard, you spotted Jihoon in your line of vision, his girlfriend pushing him against the concrete wall, practically sucking his face off. You swallowed a bite of your sandwich, trying not to gag. Just as you turned away from the sight, Seungkwan was walking past. Before you could stop him, Johnny pretended to accidentally put his foot out in front of him. Seungkwan tripped over it, dropping the food he was carrying all over the ground and falling forward. The entire table erupted in laughter as Johnny retracted his foot like it had never been there. “Having trouble walking, Kwannie?” Johnny’s best friend, Mark heckled.

Seungkwan looked at Mark and Johnny with loathing. You got up, giving Johnny and Mark a glare. “What? We were only having some fun,” Johnny said innocently. You threw what was left of your food in the trash and walked over to Seungkwan. You stuck your hand out, letting him grab it and helped him up from the ground. 

“Thanks, Y/N. You know you didn’t have to,” he said.

“I know, Seungkwan, but it’s not like I hate you too,” you said softly.

“See you around,” he said, a sad smile on his face before he walked out of the courtyard.

Later that evening, you were getting ready for Mingyu’s party with Jennie because both she and Johnny insisted you had to appear. “So, our sorority ball is coming up…do you think Johnny is going to ask you soon?” Jennie asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s going to. I mean, who else would I go with?” you said, brushing off her question. You were helping plan the entire thing, and he knew it was important, so there wasn’t any reason why he wouldn’t be asking you. 

She nodded, but her face said she was skeptical. “What about you? Has anyone asked you yet?” You turned the question around on her.

“No, but I’m sure Mingyu or Taeyong will ask. It’s not like I don’t have options,” she bragged, and you struggled to hide your contempt. While you were part of the popular crowd, Jennie had always been the most popular. Others were more drawn to her than you.

You escaped the rest of the conversation with Jennie when it was interrupted by a honking sound, indicating Johnny was there to pick the two of you up to go to the party. You both walked outside and as you approached his truck, you heard music blasting out of the open windows. Mark was in the front passenger seat while you and Jennie slipped in the back with Mark’s girlfriend, Miyeon.

Miyeon waved at you and you barely got your seatbelt on before the truck lurched forward, making its way down the road towards Mingyu’s house. “Who’s ready to dominate at pong tonight?” Mark bragged.

“Yeahhhhh,” Johnny enthused, reaching over to bump Mark’s fist with his. You rolled your eyes and looked over at Jennie. She just shrugged at you like it wasn’t as big of an annoyance as you were making it out to be.

The truck swung into the driveway of Mingyu’s house, and as Johnny cut the engine, it was replaced by the louder sounds of the house party. More music blasted from the back of the house where the pool was, and you could hear the sounds of splashing along with the hum of many people conversing at once. 

You followed behind Johnny as you weaved through the house, making your way to the kitchen for a drink. The large island was littered with many types of alcohol and random snacks. The signature punch bowl filled with some sort of pink liquid had also made its usual appearance, but you had made that mistake enough times and knew better enough to stay far away from it. 

You grabbed a red solo cup from the stack on the counter, making a mixed drink out of some random soda and liquor that sounded decent. It looked like Johnny had done the same and was pulling you by the hand to go out in the backyard where Mingyu and the rest of their buddies were. Jennie was already cozying up and dancing with some guy you didn’t recognize, likely from another university.

Meanwhile, Jihoon was on a date with his girlfriend, Shayla at a weird little bar across ton. Well, it was supposed to be a date, but all Jihoon had done was down beers while Shayla listened to some guy on the stage in front drone on about how real furs were being used in the fashion industry.

Jihoon hated how Shayla was looking at this guy, like he was the one single-handedly stopping the usage of real furs. Never mind the fact that she was on a date with Jihoon, her boyfriend. Jihoon scowled as he chugged beer after beer. 

He didn’t even notice how drunk he was until he got up and the room started spinning slightly. Stumbling over his chair, he looked over to find that Shayla had gone to the edge of the stage and was actively flirting with the fur guy. Jihoon needed to go to the bathroom and then he needed to get out of there. 

As he was washing his hands in the bathroom, he stared at his reflection in the mirror and realized he had started to sober up rather quickly, but he had ridden here with Shayla. Jihoon found the pay phone near the door of the bar. The opening and closing of the door created cold rushes of air, sobering him even more. He called one of his best friends, who also happened to be a designated driver for when the popular kids had parties. 

After feeding the pay phone the correct amount of coins and dialing the number, Wonwoo’s voice picked up after a few rings. “Jihoooonnnn, what’s up?” Wonwoo asked.

“Can you come get me from that stupid bar Shayla likes? I drank, and Shayla drove here,” Jihoon explained. 

“And you aren’t coming back with her?” Wonwoo questioned. Jihoon looked back toward the table he had been at with Shayla, only to find her making out with the fur dude.

“No, we broke up,” he said, bitterly. 

Wonwoo sighed. “Alright, I’ll come get you before we head to pick someone up at Mingyu’s party,” he said before hanging up. 

Jihoon hung up the line on his end and made a beeline back to where Shayla was. He tapped on her shoulder, breaking her from the make-out session, and immediately her face turned into one of someone who had been caught.

“We’re done, Shayla,” Jihoon said, rather dryly. He turned on his heel, not waiting for a reaction from her and walked out of the bar to wait for Wonwoo outside in the parking lot. 

When Jihoon was busy drowning in beers at the bar, you were also having an unfortunate turn of events. The party started out fine, you were having a good time dancing with Johnny and it progressed into being his partner for beer pong against Mark and Miyeon. 

Unfortunately, you and Johnny were losing. It started out okay, Johnny was being a bit of a gentleman and was drinking for you, but that was leaving him pretty smashed. It was Mark’s turn and he had gotten the ball in another cup, making Johnny drink yet another cup of beer. 

Johnny stumbled backward, spilling most of the contents of his cup on a girl who was walking behind him. It was like a scene from a movie, you watched as Johnny apologized to her and their eyes met each other’s. Anyone around could have seen the immediate connection. 

You originally tried to brush it off but with Johnny being as drunk as he was, it was apparent that something was bound to happen. Later, when you had come inside to use the bathroom, you would find Johnny and that girl sucking face right next to the bathroom door.

A screamed breakup and way too many drinks later, Jennie had called a designated driver to take you home. You sat on Mingyu’s front porch, sulking and watching the world spin when Wonwoo’s car pulled up. 

“Hey there, Y/N,” Wonwoo said, getting out of the driver's seat and approaching you on the porch. You gave him a nonchalant peace sign before noticing he had another passenger in the car. 

“Oh, great. That’s just the thing to top off my night, being stuck in a car with Jihoon while I’m drunk,” you said sarcastically, letting Wonwoo lead you down the steps and toward the car.

“I know, Y/N, but he called me too, and he is my friend as well. Try to bear with it, and you’ll be home soon enough,” Wonwoo said, knowing full well the relationship, or rather hate-ship, between you and Jihoon.

You rolled your eyes but slid into the seat next to Jihoon as Wonwoo shut the door after you. “Seriously, Wonwoo? This is who you needed to pick up from Mingyu’s party?” Jihoon’s annoyance was evident. Already tired from your rant, Wonwoo just gave him a hard stare in the rearview mirror. 

Leaving the party, the car was silent until Wonwoo brought up the reason for picking you up. “Y/N, you aren’t one to get that drunk at these parties. Jennie may have mentioned something happened..” 

You pulled your sweater around you and grumbled. “Johnny got too drunk, and after some weird drama connection shit, I found him and a girl from another university making out. He claims they ‘fell in love’,” you explained, using air quotes at the end. 

“So you broke up?” Jihoon’s question surprised you, but you were too tired and drunk to actively be rude to him

“Yeah, we broke up,” you confirmed.

“Seems to be the theme tonight,” Wonwoo mused from the front seat.

Confused, you looked over at Jihoon who was picking at his hands and looking at something particularly enthralling on the floor of the automobile. So, he and Shayla must have broken up as well. You felt that was interesting since they seemed attached at the hip, attached at the mouth too. Jihoon looked out the window now, and you saw a hurt in his eyes that he so seldom showed, but it was a familiar vulnerability that you remember from when you were kids. 

“We’re here, Y/N,” Wonwoo announced, and you realized he had pulled up in front of your sorority house. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or being in an enclosed space with Jihoon that messed with your perception of time, but you were home quicker than you expected.

“Oh. Um, thanks, Wonwoo,” you mumbled, pushing the passenger door of the car open.

“Are you good? Can you get to the door okay?” Wonwoo asked.

“Yeah,” you responded, swinging your heavy-feeling feet out of the car before shutting the door a little harder than you meant to.

Jihoon watched as you stumbled down the walkway and nearly smacked yourself in the knee when you opened the front door of the sorority, a chuckle escaping him. “Was that a laugh I heard?” Wonwoo asked, turning around in his seat to scrutinize Jihoon’s expression.

“No…” Jihoon mumbled and cleared his throat. Wonwoo just shook his head, turned back to the front and pulled away from the sorority house to drop off his friend. 

“So, are you really that broken up about Shayla?” Wonwoo inquired, filling the five-minute drive with conversation.

“Honestly? Not really. I’m more upset about the way we broke up rather than the actual break up,” Jihoon explained, his hand running at his bangs in annoyance.

“Seriously. Out of everyone she could have kissed, it was some dumb activist guy at the bar. Now that you guys are over, I can say this, but Seok, Seungkwan, and I didn’t really think she fit with you. You deserve so much better,” Wonwoo ranted on Jihoon’s behalf.

The car had pulled up in Jihoon’s driveway while they were talking, and Jihoon slapped a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder as he got up from the backseat. “Thanks, Woo. I know you guys didn’t care for her much, so now it’s ancient history,” Jihoon said, leaving Wonwoo alone in the car and making his way up his front porch steps.

He had barely gotten into the house and gone up the stairs to his room to flop onto his bed when the phone rang. “No, Seokmin. For the final time, we are not adding dancing suns to the music video edit,” Jihoon said into the phone automatically, not even bothering to say a greeting first.

“Uh, what?” you asked, confused.

Hearing your voice on the other line caused Jihoon to sit upright immediately. “Y/N? How did you get this number?” he questioned, surprised. 

“I remembered it..” you said, softly. As much as you hated Jihoon, your memories of your childhood remained, and that included his phone number. 

“Oh. So..why are you calling?” he asked, falling back onto his bed.

“I had an idea. What if...we dated each other?” You stated your idea, twirling the phone cord around your finger.

“What if we what? Y/N, you’re drunk,” Jihoon exclaimed.

“I'm not anymore, just hear me out. Not really dating but just pretending so that we could get what we wanted. I’d get to go to the sorority dance that I worked hard to plan and maintain my status while making Johnny jealous, and you’d get to show Shayla that she made a big mistake,” you blurted out your crazy idea.

“I don't know where you got this insane idea, but you should drink some water and take an ibuprofen for the nasty headache you’ll have in the morning,” he said, sighing.

“I’m serious, just think about it okay? Goodnight, Ji,” you said, his old nickname rolling off your tongue easily. 

Jihoon sighed again, “Good night, Y/N,” and he hung up the phone before falling asleep.

Your sleep was invaded by the sunlight shining in through your window, and as you opened your eyes, the splitting headache that resulted from last night's events made itself known. You sat up in bed slowly, pressing the palm of your hand against your eyes as if that would help when you remembered your phone call last night with Jihoon. He told you to drink water and take an ibuprofen.

You got up sluggishly and made your way to the bathroom, grabbing the cup that you left on the counter for when you got thirsty in the middle of the night. You filled it with water from the sink and found the ibuprofen bottle that was kept in the cabinet, spilling two pills into your palm. You popped them in your mouth and knocked them back, taking a drink of the water to swallow them. 

As you took a second drink of water for good measure, the rest of your conversation with Jihoon passed through your memories, and you spit water all over the mirror in front of you. You knew that you had been thinking how pretending to date each other would be an option, but you didn’t think you would actually ask him to do it. Apparently, drunken Y/N thought otherwise and had straight up called him and asked him to do it.

You smacked yourself in the forehead, making your head feel worse. “Well, it’s been said. And he didn’t agree to it yet, so let’s see what happens,” you murmured to yourself, resigned to the fact that it had indeed been said and maybe he wouldn’t go for it. No sense in being embarrassed about something you barely remember saying.

Which is why you didn’t expect to have Jihoon standing in front of you in the campus cafe on Monday morning saying, “I’ll do it,” causing you to spit your drink out for the second time in three days.

“You’ll what?” you asked, incredulous, as you wiped the coffee you sprayed all over the table in front of you. 

Jihoon sighed, not wanting to repeat himself. “I said, I’ll do it. Let’s fake date,” he repeated anyway, slowly to make his words heard. You blinked and just stared at him, absorbing what he just said. He stared back, his eyes boring into yours, and you saw no sign of his usual pettiness or jokes.

“Okay,” you finally breathed out, “but we should have some rules.”

“Agreed,” he said, sitting down next to you now.

“Okay….” you said, mulling over what those rules would actually be. “Alright, you’ll need a makeover. No one would believe we are together looking like…this,” you continued, gesturing at his overall self.

“Like what, Y/N?” Jihoon asked, even though he knew full well what you meant.

“We need to make it seem like you are someone I’d go for,” you said, trying to make your case.

“Fine, but I will not like it,” he replied with a glare, and you let out a little triumphant smile. “So then the other rule is that we have an easy out clause,” he said, offering a rule of his own.

“An easy out clause?” you questioned. 

“Yeah. So we can end the fake relationship at any time for any reason, and there won’t be any hard feelings. Other than the ones we already have for each other, of course,” Jihoon continued.

“Alright, an easy out clause,” you agreed. You let the awkward silence stew between the two of you for a bit before you spoke once more. “We both have classes until 4 pm today and then I have some work for the ball to do…are you free tomorrow night?”

“I think so, but why?” he asked, skeptically.

“So we can take care of the first rule, your makeover,” you replied.

Jihoon grimaced. “Okay, meet me in front of my house at 6 pm tomorrow,” he said, getting up and stuffing his hands in his pockets before leaving for his class. You attempted to finish what was left of your coffee and head off to your next class as well.

The next day at 6 pm, like promised, you were standing in front of a very familiar house from your childhood-Jihoon’s house. While you joined a sorority and lived on campus, Jihoon still lived here with his dad. Not only was it close to the university, but you figured some part of him didn’t want to leave his dad alone. 

You took a deep breath and walked up the front steps, ringing the doorbell. The door swung open, revealing Jihoon’s dad. “Well hello, Y/N. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you,” he said, opening the door further to let you step inside. 

“Hi Mr. Lee,” you said, standing in the foyer rather awkwardly. Honestly, the last time you stepped foot in this house was the day of Mrs. Lee’s funeral. It was also the last time you and Jihoon acted like friends.

“Ji should be down in a minute,” Mr Lee said, leaving you and going back into the kitchen. You looked down at your feet, rocking back and forth on your heels until you heard the creaking of the stairs. Jihoon looked like his usual self, wearing jeans and a band tee. You couldn’t help but smile. However, if the two of you dating were to seem real then he needed to fit in with the popular crowd. And that started with a look that aligned with that.

Jihoon cleared his throat, suddenly standing in front of you, and you realized you must have spaced out. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah, we should get going,” you said. He grabbed his car keys from the small table near the door before ushering you back through the front door and closing it behind him. He also opened the passenger door of the car for you, making you quirk an eyebrow at his actions. His only response was a shrug of the shoulders. 

After you were both settled in the car he asked, “So where to?”

“The mall,” you responded with an excited smile.

Jihoon groaned, “Are you trying to kill my reputation as a geek?” You blinked, surprised at his joking tone before letting out a giggle.

“Precisely,” you answered, laughing once more. Jihoon started the car, driving toward the demise of his geekdom, or at least the image of it.

After about fifteen minutes had passed, he pulled into the parking lot of the city mall, also known as the place where all the popular kids shopped and hung out. 

You walked into the large, store-filled building with Jihoon trailing behind you. Pausing at the entrance, you thought about what you needed to do first. “New outfits,” you pondered out loud. You looked over at Jihoon who was mashing his lips together and you grabbed the edge of his shirt, pulling him with you to the first clothing store.

You deposited him in the middle of the store, near the dressing rooms. Jihoon stood there almost in awe as you swirled around the store, picking up different combinations of pants and shirts to create outfits for him to try on. He was already exhausted, and he hadn’t even tried anything on yet.

After what felt like forever, you returned, holding up multiple outfits for him. He sighed, something he was doing a lot when he was with you. “The sooner you try them on, the sooner we can be done,” you said, trying to sound motivating. Lucky for you, he knew you were right and took the hangers of clothes from you. He trudged into the dressing room and shut the door behind him.

You made him come out after every outfit, much to his annoyance. You rather enjoyed it, clapping and smiling for most of the outfits. You were proud of yourself for picking things out that made him look the perfect mix of sophisticated and casual. You gathered all the outfits that worked and brought them up to the checkout counter, once again with Jihoon trailing behind you. 

Coming to stand next to you, Jihoon went to take his wallet out of his pocket, but you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Don’t worry about it. It was my idea for the makeover,” you said, handing money to the cashier as she placed his new clothes in a bag. She handed the bag to you.

“Are you sure?” Jihoon asked.

“I’m sure,” you confirmed, handing the bag of clothes over to him. As you pulled your hand away, your stomach let out a few grumbles. 

He let out an amused snort and said, “This place has a food court, right?” You nodded, and your stomach grumbled some more. “Let’s get some food then.” 

You led the way toward the center of the mall, where all the food smells were coming from and a few minutes later, the two of you sat across from each other at a table with pieces of pizza in front of you. Another memory with Jihoon crossed your mind as you chewed a piece of the cheesy slice. “You remember the time Seungkwan’s mom specially bought that only cheese pizza for him at your birthday party and when he fell asleep early, we ate it all?” you asked, a smirk gracing your face as you remembered your childhood antics.

“He was so mad. He didn’t talk to us for like a week and then hid his pizza the next time there was a party,” Jihoon laughed. It grew silent again after that, not exactly an awkward silence but not a comfortable one either. You were nearly done with your pizza when Jihoon asked another question. “This makeover doesn’t include other things, like cutting my hair or something?” 

You looked up at him. You looked at his slightly shaggy black hair and his bangs that lightly brushed over his forehead. You didn’t know what possessed you, but you reached forward and grazed you fingered through the ends of his hair. Your eyes locked and instead of the growling it had done earlier, your stomach did flip flops. You panicked slightly and abruptly pulled your hand away.  “No, I don’t think we need to change anything else..” you said, looking down at the table.

Before things could get weirder, you two finished eating and left the mall with your mission accomplished. 

The car was quiet as it sat in the driveway of your sorority and Jihoon wondered why you hadn’t taken your seatbelt off to get out of the car yet. You were struggling, debating whether you wanted to tell him something that you had thought about telling him for ages. What better time than to say it now, a day when you spent the most time with him than you had in years? 

“Listen, Jihoon…” you started in a bit of a solemn tone. He turned to look at you. “When your mom got sick, I just didn’t know what to do or how to feel. Then at her funeral, I wasn’t sure how to comfort you or even if I could. And then you started getting in trouble at school and hanging out with other people. I’m just…I’m sorry.” 

Jihoon gave a wry smile after listening to your whole blurted speech. “It’s okay, I get it,” he said. “I didn’t know what to do or how to feel either, and then eventually we became…enemies sorta?” 

You nodded. “How about we be, uh, frenemies now, I guess?”

He snorted at that. “Frenemies,” he agreed.

Eventually, you took off your seatbelt and opened the car door. Before you fully shut it, you peeked your head in to remind Jihoon of your next plans. “Remember, we should be seen together at the football game tomorrow and then at the diner with my friends after.” 

He cringed but said, “Okay, see you tomorrow then,” and you shut the car door before watching him pull out of the driveway.

A few hours before the football game you mentioned to Jihoon that you were in the journalism room with Jennie, Miyeon, and a few other girls who were part of the ball planning committee. You were trying to finalize the theme so that you could get started on getting the decorations. The ball was held at the same place every year, so you didn’t have to worry about that, at least. Everyone was set on their own idea for the theme, and no one could come to a decision, making you massage your temples in frustration. 

You were really regretting not grabbing that coffee before this meeting when the very thing you wanted appeared in front of you. A iced coffee was sat in front of you and you looked up to find Jihoon, looking nonchalant with his hands in his pockets like always. “Thanks. How did you know I was here?” you asked, surprised.

He shrugged. “I was here working in the editing room on something with Seungkwan and Wonwoo and saw you were still here. I thought you could probably use the caffeine.” You squinted at him before slowly taking a drink of the coffee, wondering if he had some sort of other motive. Then he leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “I’m just trying to make it look like we didn’t, you know, suddenly go from hating each other to dating. So, just go with it.”

Of course, there it was. He couldn’t have really just thought to bring it to you for no reason at all other than just because. You were supposed to be fake dating starting today, so he needed to make it look true. 

Arguing between Jennie and Miyeon brought you back to reality, and you sighed. “Guys!” you snapped, making them both stop midargument. “Look, it’s almost time for the game and we should be there. Let’s try and come to an agreement by next week. If that’s not possible, then I’ll be making the final decision, by myself,” you said. Miyeon looked surprised at your unusual forcefulness while Jennie just looked, well annoyed. 

You grabbed what was left of the coffee Jihoon brought you and him by the arm. “We should get over to the stadium,” you said and left the room with the others, wondering what was up with you, or more importantly you and him. 

“Okay, chill,” Jihoon said, pulling his arm back from you once you were in the hall.

“Sorry,” you said, letting him pull his arm back. You looked up at him, finally noticing that he was also wearing one of the outfits you had picked out the day before. You smiled at him.

“What?” he asked, wondering why the heck you were smiling at him like a weirdo in the middle of the hallway.

“I didn’t think you would be wearing the clothes yet,” you responded.

“I thought that was the deal? Now come on, let’s watch some stupid game and start this dating thing in front of your friends.” Jihoon grabbed your hand, leading you down the hall and out the door to head to the football stadium. Why was your heart feeling funny?

An hour later, Jihoon was sitting next to you in the bleachers complaining in your ear about how “all a football game is, is an excuse for dudes to touch other dudes' butts.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Go, Fight, Win!” A chant had started in the stadium and was gaining more people with it. After about the third round of the chant, you joined, smirking at Jihoon. He looked at you chanting with your other friends that sat nearby and shook his head. You nudged him, smiling like a maniac. 

Rolling his eyes, he finally joined with a monotone, “Go, Fight, Win!” and a half-hazard fist pump in the air. Then something happened. Watching the game, feeling the excitement of the crowd, and seeing you sitting next to him, enjoying yourself; he thought maybe this wasn’t so bad, fun even. Next thing he knew, as the chant ended he was taking turns shouting insults at the refs with Mark and high-fiving him. 

You looked at him. It was peculiar. All that fuss and now he was fitting in like he had been a part of the group from the beginning. You couldn’t help but think that it could have been this way all along, as if you and Jihoon never had been enemies. 

After the game, you and Jihoon made an official new couple appearance at the diner your friends often frequented after games. You had barely sat down in the group booth with your food when Jennie pounced. “So after seeing you two together twice today, I need to ask. Are you two like a thing now?” she asked, pointing between the two of you. You nodded. Jennie gave a look of distaste. “How on earth did that happen?” 

“So, remember the night at Mingyu’s party when Johnny and I broke up and I got drunk, you called me a designated driver? Well, Jihoon had also called Wonwoo and was in the car too. It just sort of happened?” you explained. None of that was technically wrong at all, that was what happened. You just left out the part about the drunken phone call later and you know, the fact that it was fake. 

Jennie looked over at Jihoon, who had his mouth full of fries. “Yeah, pretty much,” Jihoon confirmed with his mouth full and Jennie gave a slightly disgusted look. Seeming satisfied with that answer, Jennie left it alone and conversation flowed around the table. Mark, Mingyu, and Jihoon were debating things about a video game and you found yourself smiling once again at the fact that they seemed to be getting along well.

Yet, your smile fell when you looked at the other side of the table to see Johnny and his new girlfriend making out. You didn’t know why, but tears were gathering at the corners of your eyes. “I’ll be right back, bathroom,” you mumbled. Jihoon heard the tone in your voice and the sheen in your eyes and was pulled from his video game conversation. He immediately saw what likely upset you, and decided he needed to do something about it when you came back.

In the bathroom, you splashed water on your face and hoped that would help regain your composure. You took a few deep breaths and made sure there was no trace of your sudden tear-up before heading back out to the table. As you sat back down next to Jihoon, he asked “Everything okay, babe?” He wrapped an arm over your shoulders pulling you close to him and placed a peck on your forehead. 

Babe? Your brain malfunctioned and you were frozen at Jihoon’s side. “Y/N….” he hissed in your ear and you broke from your stupor. “Oh, sorry. Yes, I’m good,” you answered. He must be doing this for show, to make it really look like you were dating and to make Johnny jealous, right? It had to be that, of course.

“So, you’re friends with DD Wonwoo, right?” Mark was asking Jihoon now.

“Yeah, we are friends. And it’s Wonwoo, not DD Wonwoo. Just Wonwoo,” he answered and you could hear irritation starting in his voice.

“Cool, you think he’d be down to be the designated driver for all our parties? We’ll pay.” Jihoon’s body tensed at the question.

“Okayyyyy,” you said the minute Mark finished his sentence, getting up and pulling Jihoon out of the booth with you. “It’s getting late and I’m tired. We’ll see you guys later,” you rushed out before dragging Jihoon out of the diner with you and leaving what was left of your food on the table.

“What the hell was that? Wonwoo has probably saved the lives of half those people in there and what? They just want to continue getting drunk off their rockers and think throwing money at him is compensation for that?” Jihoon was fuming. He was pacing back and forth in the parking lot, tugging his hand through his hair. 

“Jihoon…” you started. 

“Who do they think they are? Do they have no integrity? Did they trade their brains for being popular?” He continued to rant.

“Jihoon!” you said again, sharper this time.

“What?!” he shouted and you flinched slightly.

You didn’t know why, but you felt the urge to comfort him and calm him down. And to apologize even. You came up next to him, brushing his hand with yours, and said, “I’m sorry.” Jihoon’s breathing calmed down and his eyes met yours. “Endure it for me, please? I promise you and Wonwoo can do something mean to him the next time he’s drunk, okay?” you said. 

Jihoon cracked a smile at that. “Fine…” he responded and stalked over to the car so he could get the two of you back home.

You and Jihoon had made appearances at a few other things during the week, but as Friday approached there was actually one you were looking forward to the most. It was starting to get warmer, which meant some days were spent soaking up the sun at the river.

The ball’s committee had also taken your previous threat about choosing the theme on your own seriously and had finally come to a consensus. The theme was Moments in Time and you were looking forward to downtime with your friends before having to plan more for the ball. Maybe you were looking forward to downtime with Jihoon too. 

This time you were all riding with Mingyu in his jeep, floats and picnic supplies strapped to the utility bar on top of the vehicle. He had come to pick you up with everyone else in the car but Jihoon and he would be picked up last. Which meant that when Mingyu honked at Jihoon’s house, the only seat left in the car was in the backseat, squished in the middle next to you.

Squeezing in next to you, you became immediately aware of his bare legs pressing against your own. He was in the swim trunks you had picked out for him and a t-shirt, already prepared for the day's activities. “Ouch,” you said as he accidentally pinched your arm between him and the seat. 

“I’m sorry, is this better?” Jihoon asked, moving his arm over your shoulders so that you could settle next to him. 

You swallowed down the butterflies that were now becoming a common occurrence when you were with him. You were still doing everything you could to ignore them. It was just the proximity and situation making you feel that way. You didn’t actually like him. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. 

You didn’t dare speak words out loud, afraid it would come out garbled or as a squeak. You just nodded in response, the warming of your cheeks still threatening to give you away. Throughout the entire drive to the river, you were painfully aware of how much his body was touching yours.

When Mingyu pulled into the parking lot of the River Park, you nearly flung yourself out of the car causing both Jihoon and Jennie to look at you like you were insane. As the others got out of the car, you moved your attention to retrieving your things from the back. You grabbed your bag, which held a swim towel, sunscreen, and a few snacks.

More bags were grabbed, leaving the trunk area empty while Mark and Mingyu worked on getting the other things down from the rack on the roof. You waited until everything had been taken before walking down the path that led to the larger bank of the river. The area was a little rocky but many of the rocks were big enough to lay blankets and towels on. 

You spotted one big enough for multiple people to spread out on and it was also close enough to the river itself, which would make it easy to get in and out of the water. It was decided the girls would take the spot you found and the boys would hang out on the next one over. You spread your towel out, setting your bag near the front and slipping your sandals off on the other end to weigh it down before settling down on it in a cross-legged position.

Jennie and Miyeon put their things out next to you, while Jihoon was helping Mark and Mingyu set their chairs out on the other rock. You leaned backward on your hands, enjoying the sun on your face while chatting about things every once in a while with Jennie and Miyeon. You had tuned them out a little when Miyeon started talking about Mark’s sexual habits, comparing them with things Jennie’s many partners had done. Not only did you not want to know those things about Mark, but you didn’t really have anything to contribute since you and Jihoon obviously weren't on that level.

“Y/N? What about you and Jihoon?” Miyeon asked, bringing your attention back to the conversation. 

“Well….it’s a secret,” you answered, trying to be as elusive as possible so you didn’t have to try and come up with more lies than needed.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Jennie goaded. “You cleaned Jihoon up so nicely, I'm sure you’ve had a piece of that.”

You looked at your best friend in annoyance. “Jihoon is a private person, I’d rather not discuss our sex life,” you responded. Miyeon seemed to understand but the look on Jennie’s face was like she took your response as a challenge.

The boys were having a similar conversation over at their rock, with Mingyu bragging about his latest endeavors. Jihoon didn’t really understand the need to boast about the subject as if it were a competition. “But what about Y/N, though?” Mingyu asked, looking over at Jihoon.

“What about her?” Jihoon questioned.

“She’s hot. You’d be stupid not to get a little ‘something, something’ while dating her,” Mingyu continued.

Jihoon narrowed his eyes, “Even if I have, Y/N has feelings too and I’m not going to divulge her sex life without her permission.” 

“Okay, dude. I was just trying to make conversation,” Mingyu surrendered, putting his hands up as a white flag. 

Mark took that as a sign for him and Mingyu to grab some floaties and go hang out in the river. Jihoon had brought his walkman and slipped on the headphones, going into his own little music world. Miyeon and Jennie had grown quiet now and were tanning behind you.

After scooting forward on your towel, you stuck your feet in the cool river water and let yourself relax a bit. You looked over to find Mark and Mingyu having a war on the floaties, both trying to push the other off and into the water. You shook your head at their antics and moved your feet back and forth in the water, creating a calming effect for yourself.

You weren’t sure how long you were all hanging out there but eventually Mingyu mentioned that you should all get home and you started packing things up. You looked over to find Jihoon gone from his previous spot.

Your eyes wandered around the river bank area and you finally spotted him, playing with two younger kids. “Oh noooo, you got me,” you heard him exclaim in mock upset. The two kids were squirting him with water from the super soakers they each had, both giggling the more exaggerated Jihoon sounded. 

He moved, chasing them around and getting revenge with his own super soaker. You couldn’t help but smile at the pure joy you saw on his face as he played with them. He looked so at ease with them. You thought that maybe you really were starting to fall for him, but if you were then you couldn’t keep up this fake dating ruse. You promptly shook the thoughts from your head. 

“Come on Captain Kangaroo, our ride is leaving,” you shouted across the bank. He looked up at your voice and shot you a devastatingly adorable smile that showed off his dimples. He gave the water gun back to the kids and he ruffled their hair, telling them he had fun. 

He jogged to where you were, saying “Okay, let’s get going.” He picked up his things from the rock he and the boys were on earlier and the two of you headed back up the path to Mingyu’s jeep. All the items you had brought had been put back in the trunk and everyone was just waiting for you and Jihoon so you could head back home. You two were squished against each other again, in a similar position as on the way there. However, you weren’t paying attention to that part as much now that the scene of him playing with the kids earlier kept replaying in your head. Before you knew it, you all had been dropped off at your respective residences and it was time to settle down for the evening. 

Jihoon had just walked in the door when his dad appeared holding the house phone. “Ah, good timing. Jihoon just came in, Seungkwan. Here,” he said, holding the phone out for Jihoon to take. 

“Hey, Kwan. What’s up?” Jihoon said into the phone, bringing it up the stairs to his room with him. 

“The Pixies are playing at the bar tomorrow night. Come with Seokmin, Wonwoo, and I,” Seungkwan said.

“I don’t know. I think one of Y/N’s friends is having a party that we are supposed to go to.”

Seungkwan sighed heavily. “I wasn’t going to bring this up, but you’ve changed. You used to hang out with us, you know, your best friends, all the time and now you're always with Y/N and her group of populars. Are we not good enough for you anymore, Jihoon?” 

“Jesus, Seungkwan. No, I haven’t changed. I don’t like hanging out with them, I’m just there to make Y/N happy and somewhat get along with them.” Jihoon explained, annoyance tingeing his voice. 

“Whatever you say,” Seungkwan gave a flippant response.

“Tell you what, I’ll talk to Y/N and see if we can come with you guys to the concert instead. Okay?” Jihoon compromised.

“Fine, let me know later,” Seungkwan conceded.

“Okay, bye.” Jihoon hung up the phone and rubbed his hands over his face. He didn’t think he was changing at all. He wasn’t fitting in with that crowd, was he? He was only pretending so that you two could fake date, right? 

Jihoon picked the cordless phone back up from the bed where he flung it after saying goodbye to Seungwan and dialed your number.

“Hello?” your voice sounded from the other end.

“Hey,” Jihoon said.

“Jihoon? You usually don’t call me first,” you mentioned.

“I know, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay…” you responded, a little confused.

“I know we are supposed to go to another party tomorrow but do you think we could do something with my friends instead? I feel like we only do things with your friends,” he complained.

You let out a rush of air. “Okay,” you agreed.

“Okay?” Jihoon asked, surprised you agreed that easily.

“Yeah, you’re right. And it seems weird for a couple to hang out with only one group of friends. Plus, they used to be my friends too…” you trailed off.

“Alright, then there’s a band we follow playing at a bar we go to. Seungkwan invited us and both Wonwoo and Seokmin will be there too. I can come get you at 5 pm tomorrow,” he told you.

“Sounds good. Hey, today was kind of nice wasn’t it?” you asked, a smile on your face as you remembered.

“Yeah, it was kind of nice,” Jihoon admitted and you both hung up the phone.

Even though it was a Saturday afternoon, Jihoon found himself on campus in the broadcasting room. Seungkwan and Wonwoo were there earlier too but Jihoon wanted to finish editing the music video they had been working on. They had gone to get lunch and would be back later. 

It wasn’t that he was in a real hurry to finish it exactly, but he tended to immerse himself in his projects when he felt unsettled about something. He wasn’t even sure what he was specifically feeling weird about. Was it the fact that he really seemed to be getting along with your friends? Or was it that his heart seemed to speed up every time he caught your eyes yesterday?

All that could be heard in the room was the clicking of the mouse as he edited, thoughts swirling in his head. He was so distracted that he didn’t even realize that Wonwoo and Seungkwan had come back and that it was three hours later. He was brought back to reality as Seungkwan snapped his fingers in front of his face, literally snapping him out of whatever trance he was in. “Hellooooo, Jihoon,” Seungwan said, trying to get his attention. 

“Oh, sorry, Kwan,” Jihoon responded and turned around in the computer chair he was sitting in. 

“We should probably leave so we can all get ready for the concert tonight with Seok,” Wonwoo mentioned.

“Did you ask your girlfriend? Are you coming?” Seungkwan asked with a hint of bitterness.

“Actually, yeah. Y/N was kind of excited about it, so we’ll be there,” Jihoon said, ignoring Seungkwan’s tone.

Rather than getting into another heated discussion about whether Jihoon was acting like himself or not, Seungkwan and Wonwoo left and so did Jihoon after finishing the last bit of video editing. He went back home to get ready in another outfit you had chosen that day at the mall before going to pick you up. A few hours later, he was waiting in the car outside your dorm like he had multiple times before.

Jihoon drummed his fingers on the steering wheel along with the beat of the song that was on the radio as he waited for you. He was pretty into it and didn’t see when you had come out of the house. You grinned as you slowly approached the car. Jihoon had been into music when you were younger and it was nice to know he truly hadn’t changed much despite everything that happened. “Okay drummer boy, I’m here. We should leave,” you said, making him jump slightly at your voice before he unlocked the passenger side for you to get in.

“So what band are we going to see?” you asked when Jihoon had pulled out onto the road that would take you to the bar.

“The Pixies. Wonwoo found them one time when he was DD’ing and went to pick Seokmin up at the bar one time. They showed Seungkwan and me the next time they played and we liked them too, so we try to catch them every time they play there.” Jihoon explained and you could tell how much he liked the band.

“Hmm, okay. Well I’m excited to hang out with you guys, to see Seungkwan, and to get to know Wonwoo and Seokmin even more,” you said and you really were. You wanted to catch a glimpse of what Jihoon had been like for the period of time you didn’t know him. He hummed in acknowledgment. It was quiet for a few minutes before you spoke again. “Hey, do I..look okay? I’ve actually never been to this kind of thing before..” you asked, feeling a little nervous.

Jihoon looked a little surprised, but then again seeing a girl punk rock band at a hole-in-the-wall bar was not exactly your scene. Eventually, he scanned your outfit, taking in the dark jeans and nice shirt you were wearing. “Yeah, you look nice,” he responded. He was probably just being polite but you noticed he was also wearing something similar, making you wonder why you spent so much time trying to find the right outfit in the first place. 

He pulled into the parking lot of the bar and parked next to a car that was familiar to you at this point, Wonwoo’s. You followed behind him as he walked into the bar and scanned the area for his friends. “Jihoon! Y/N!” you heard someone shout over the band that was already playing. You walked with Jihoon to where Seungkwan had shouted from, in the middle of a crowd standing somewhat near the stage. It got louder the closer you got to where Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Wonwoo were.

“Hey, boys!” you greeted them over the music. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Seungkwan said when you got closer. Wonwoo gave a small wave and Seokmin flashed a smile.

“I’m going to grab some drinks from the bar. Want anything?” Jihoon asked you all.

“Martini for me, please,” Seungkwan said.

“Suprise me,” came Seokmin’s response.

“I’m driving, of course, so just club soda?” Wonwoo asked.

Jihoon looked over at you, waiting for your order. “Rum and coke?” you asked. Jihoon did not expect that from you. He figured you’d want something more fancy like Seungkwan wanted.

“Okay, be back soon then,” Jihoon said and he disappeared into the crowd.

You turned your attention to the stage in front of you that had since grown quiet, guessing that the band that was playing when you walked in was the opener for who you were really here to see. You were making small talk with the three boys while waiting for the main event and for Jihoon to come back. As you had noticed before, Wonwoo was quiet but funny and had quite a knack for video editing. Seokmin was bright, adding a lightness to their group. You talked with Seungkwan about your junior high days when you, Jihoon, and he made up a trio. You remembered those days fondly and definitely noticed how wary Seungkwan was when talking about that part of your shared past.

Before you could address that, the crowd started cheering and colored lights were starting to shine on the stage as a group of girls came on stage with their instruments. They looked amazing. The girl in front had her hair teased in a high pony and wore silver pants that matched the glittering tank top of the girl drummer behind her. She picked up a guitar and started playing a riff that must have been from one of their well-known songs, judging by the howling in the crowd. As the song continued to play, you realized you liked it. The punk aspect was not something you would not have normally picked, but it made you feel something.

Jihoon was still waiting for your drinks over at the bar and was turned around to watch the stage. His eyes were automatically drawn to where you were, finding you with your eyes glued to the stage and complete joy written on your face. He watched as you got closer to the stage, starting to jump up and down with the music. He honestly couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “Here you go,” the bartender said from behind him, setting the drinks on the bar top. Jihoon grabbed them all, balancing them in his hands and set off back into the crowd with an amused smile on his lips.

He wove back through all the people, stopping to give his friends their drinks before moving forward in the crowd to where you were standing. The song was finishing as he reached you and you screamed and clapped for the band, making Jihoon laugh at how much you were actually enjoying this. He tapped you on the shoulder and you turned, the look on your face probably the happiest he had seen recently.

“Your drink,” Jihoon said, passing the glass to you.

“Thank you,” you said, taking it from him and giving it a light sip before turning your attention to the next song. You began bouncing up and down to the beat of the new song, as much as you could without spilling your drink. Jihoon thought you were cute like this. 

He stood there enjoying the music with you, his own drink in hand until you heard Wonwoo let out an “Ah, shit,” somewhere behind you. 

“What’s wrong?” Jihoon questioned. 

“She’s here,” Wonwoo responded.

“Who?” you asked, confused. 

You followed Jihoon’s line of sight before you spotted who and he spoke her name. “Shayla.” She had a guy hanging off her, which you could only assume was the one she cheated on Jihoon with. You watched as they acted all lovey-dovey, making Jihoon look positively miserable. Her eyes crossed paths with Jihoon and you could only think of one thing to do, you kissed him. 

You made out with him to be exact, tongue and all. You couldn’t bear how hurt he looked, couldn’t stand the fact that Shayla was looking at him like she still cared. Jihoon didn’t know how he should respond other than to let you continue kissing him. You kept sneaking peeks at Shayla out of the corner of your eye as you kept making out with him. Eventually, Shayla looked away with a bit of a sneer and pulled her boy toy to another area of the bar. 

You pulled away from Jihoon and said, “Sorry, I was just returning the favor.” He had rescued you in a similar way, albeit a tamer way, that night at the dinner when your ex was there. You took it a little further than intended but you were just making it even, weren’t you? 

“Uh, thanks?” Jihoon responded, a light blush warming his cheeks and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. This was not a reaction you expected from him or even one you thought he could have. It was actually pretty adorable. You tried not to think about it. You didn’t see it because you were too focused on the boy you weren’t supposed to like, but Wonwoo and Seungwan shared a look. 

“They are about to play the next song,” you said, trying to redirect attention back to the band and the stage. Jihoon only nodded, not knowing what else to say after that. You let the music take away thoughts of whatever feelings you might be starting to have for your fake boyfriend and by the time the concert was over, you had buried them deep in your mind once again.

In the parking lot of the bar, you said goodbye to Seungkwan, Wonwoo, and Seokmin before you got in the car with Jihoon to go home. It was a little awkward again before Jihoon turned the radio on. (You Drive Me) Crazy by Britney Spears came on and he groaned before he reached over to change the station. “Aw come on, Ji. Leave it there,” you whined before starting to sing along to the song. He grimaced at you but pulled his hand away from the dash, leaving the song on. “You drive me craaaazzzyyy, I just can’t sleep!” you sang loudly and badly on purpose. You poked your elbow into Jihoon’s side, trying to get him to sing with you as you continued with the lyrics.

After a few harder nudges Jihoon belted out, “Baby, thinking of you keeps me up all night”. You gasped, putting your hand over your mouth. You didn’t think you’d actually get him to sing it with you. He continued driving with the two of you singing the rest of the song and giggling like maniacs, Jihoon showing a smile genuine enough that the dimples you only saw one other time appeared. You found yourself having fun more often with Jihoon and spending time with him was beginning to feel more and more natural, like you never parted ways to begin with.

Once again, you found yourself in the journalism room working on things for the ball. More specifically, the decorations. This time you were by yourself, there was yet another party happening tonight and the others left you so they could get Jennie’s house ready since she was hosting this time. Honestly, you didn’t mind and felt like you could get more things done without Jennie’s constant nitpicking. 

You were looking at a few different options for string lights when someone you didn’t expect to see walked in. Shayla. “Um, Mrs. Rathburn asked me to bring you the posters you had printed from the big office printer,” she said, showing the large posters she held in her arms.

“Oh, thanks for bringing them. You can set them over there,” you responded, gesturing toward the bigger table next to you. Shayla set them where you indicated and started toward the door but hesitated, turning back around. She looked like she wanted to say something to you. “Was there anything else?” you prompted.

She pondered for a moment before saying,” He seems happier with you.” You were sure what to say when she continued. “He never wanted to go places with me, never wanted to stop by the lab to see me, not the way he does with you.” 

The way she said it struck a chord with you. You knew she was a medical science major and worked in the chem lab a lot but it didn’t occur to you before and obviously, she didn’t know either. “He didn’t tell you about his mother, did he?” you asked. The confused look on Shayla’s face confirmed your suspicions. “His mother died when we were younger…of cancer. So you can imagine why he wouldn’t want to be around medicine and labs.”

Now she had a shocked look on her face, mixed with something like pity. “I didn’t know. Well, I hope he continues to be happy with you,” she said as she turned back around and walked out of the room. For once, you felt a little sorry for Shayla but fake or not, Jihoon was with you now. You sighed and got up from the chair you were sitting in, pulling the posters closer to you so you could examine them to make sure they had been printed properly. They looked good and you were glad that nothing was wrong with them. 

A few minutes later, Jihoon walked through the same classroom door that Shayla walked out of. “Hey, how's it going in here?” he asked casually. 

You shrugged, “It’s going. But, what are you doing here? You didn’t bring me coffee this time.” You grinned, enjoying being able to give him a hard time now without it turning into a big deal. 

“Wow, see if I ever bring you coffee again..” he teased back. “Anyway, I was working with Seungkwan on some AV stuff for the school news show and thought I’d stop by. It was strange though, I passed by Shayla in the hall and she was acting oddly nice to me.” 

“Huh, weird,” you said. There was no way you were going to tell him that you told her about his mother. He must have had a reason for not telling her, although some part of you was relieved he hadn’t.

“So, how do you feel about having dinner at my house before we go to Jennie’s party? My dad invited you. I think he’s noticed how close we’ve gotten again,” he asked, looking a little sheepish.

“I’d like that,” you responded, the corners of your lips turning up at the thought of Mr. Lee making Jihoon ask you over. You gathered all the things you were working on, organizing them so they made sense when you went to work on them again and left the room to go home with Jihoon.

You had really only been just inside of the door of Jihoon’s house since you reconnected. It felt weird going past the dining room threshold as you followed him into the kitchen, even though as a child you had been in every room in the house. It was a reminder of how things truly had changed after his mom died. 

Yet, the sight of Mr. Lee in the kitchen and the familiar smell of his famous Yangnyeom chicken transported you right back to those times when you and Jihoon would get called in for dinner when you had been playing outside or doing homework together. Mr. Lee turned around after plating the chicken. “Glad you could join us, Y/N! I had to practically beg Jihoon to ask you,” he beamed, walking into the dining room to set the large plate on the table.

“Thank you for inviting me Mr. Lee,” you said, politely as you took a seat in one of the chairs at the dining table. 

“At least I didn’t have to drag you two inside from the treehouse,” he said with a laugh and you found it ironic that he remembered that as well. 

Your eyes shifted to sliding doors on the other side of the dining room, looking out into the backyard to see if the treehouse still existed. “It’s still there..” you murmured as you made out the familiar wood walls poking out the only large tree still in the yard.

“Of course it is! Jihoon kept it up all these years and made sure no nail or board came out of place,” Mr. Lee exclaimed rather proudly. You looked over at Jihoon who was doing his best not to look at you. You thought it would have been destroyed by now. Jihoon’s actions lately were already confusing, but the fact that he had preserved the treehouse all this time confused you even more. 

The rest of dinner went well, it was comforting that it felt almost the same as it did when you were young. Well, minus a major person, but you tried your best not to think about that. You and Jihoon were helping Mr. Lee clean up when he glanced at the clock on the wall. “We should think about heading to the party now,” he said.

“I got the rest of this. You crazy kids go have fun at the party,” Mr. Lee said, basically telling the two of you to skedaddle already.

“Don’t wait up,” Jihoon joked, following you out of the kitchen and back into the front room.

Since you were busy enough today, you chose an outfit when you got ready this morning that would translate well from everyday to party. It’s not like you were the host or like it was that special of an event, plus you were willing to bet something would be spilled on it by the end of the night anyway. 

“Let me change into something more suitable and I’ll be right back,” Jihoon said to you. You nodded and sat on the bottom of the stairs to wait for him. Five minutes later, he came down the stairs looking effortless and amazing at the same time. Once again, making it hard for you to ignore the ever-annoying butterflies that filled your stomach. 

“Let’s get going, we don’t want to be late,” you mumbled, turning your attention back to the front door.

The party was already in full swing when you arrived and you narrowly avoided being mowed over by Mingyu and Mark playing some sort of drunk game involving a soccer ball the minute you and Jihoon walked into Jennie’s house. You took Jihoon’s hand in yours as you wove through people, telling yourself it was so that you didn’t lose him in the crowd but you couldn’t help but feel like they fit together.

You made your way into the center of the house where more things seemed to be going on when you caught the sound of the familiar voices of your friends in the backyard. Jennie was already drunk, laughing loudly as she swayed her hips to the music blasting from speakers on either side of the yard. “There you guys areeeeeeee,” Jennie exclaimed, her words sounding slightly slurred which gave a bit of an indication of how much alcohol she’d had so far. 

You stifled a laugh as Miyeon gave you a look that essentially said “help me” as she lightly sipped on the drink she had while keeping an eye on Jennie. Mark suddenly appeared, without Mingyu this time. “Yoooo, Jihoon. Come be my partner, Mingyu got too drunk and I need someone who actually has hand-eye coordination,” he said, trying to rope Jihoon into whatever hair-brained game they had been playing. 

Mark dragged him off before he could protest, leaving you with just the girls. “You know, I wasn’t sure about Jihoon in the beginning, but the makeover he had really suits him well. If you weren’t dating him, I would be all over that,” Jennie babbled, the multiple drinks in her system acting like an unwanted truth serum. You felt a hint of animosity toward her, and you had to keep telling yourself that you shouldn’t be. You weren’t dating for real, but in principle, it was since nobody else knew that. 

To make it easier to resist the urge to strangle Jennie, you excused yourself and went to get a drink from the bar on the other side of the patio that you assumed Jennie paid to be there. Walking up to the bartender, you ordered something that tasted good but wouldn’t get you blasted immediately. A few seconds wait and you thanked the bartender, taking your drink from him. You turned around, maybe to go find where Mark dragged Jihoon off to when you found yourself face to face with your ex.

“Oh, Y/N. I was actually looking for you,” Johnny said. He was just passing by but he was clearly looking for someone. You, apparently. 

“Um, okay…didn’t you come with your new girlfriend?” you asked, confused as to why he was looking for you when he seemed so infatuated with the girl the last time you had seen him.

“Well, that’s kind of why I was looking for you. Let’s find a quieter place to talk,” he motioned to some chairs that sat out off the side of the patio where fewer people were milling around. You sat down in one and he sat in the one across from you.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” you questioned, not exactly interested but he did specifically seek you out.

“I know you are with Jihoon now, but I was wondering if I could take you to the dance?” Johnny asked, with what he thought might be a convincing smile on his face. You choked on your drink. He couldn’t be serious. The very thing you had wanted before everything got messy and he was asking you now?

“But what about your girlfriend?” you inquired.

“She broke up with me, said she found someone new,” he shrugged. You snorted. Ironic wasn’t it? She broke up with him for nearly the same reason he broke up with you.

“Once upon a time, all I ever wanted was for you to take me to the ball I planned. But you know what? I’m not the same person as I was all those months ago and I’m with Jihoon now. Go find some other poor sucker to go with you because I won’t,” you responded and you knew it was true. You weren’t the same person anymore. You could care less about being popular. All you cared about was being yourself. And being with Jihoon.

Johnny looked stunned, “Damn, Jihoon is a lucky guy.” You felt that was your cue to leave and you had to go to the bathroom anyway. So you left Johnny there and went inside to search for the restroom. You walked back into the house through the sliding door and were headed down the hall when you saw it, saw them. 

Jennie was talking with Jihoon when suddenly you saw her lips meet his. You didn’t know what was happening and your face crumpled. Immediately, you knew that the feelings you were trying to suppress for Jihoon couldn’t be covered up anymore. Jennie broke free of the kiss with a smirk, turning Jihoon around by his shoulders so that his eyes would meet yours. “Bitch,” you murmured, a sob trying to break free from your chest.

Jihoon’s eyes widened as they met yours. “Y/N, wait!” he shouted, a pleading tone bleeding into it. You didn’t want to hear it. This whole thing was fake anyway. You ignored him and stormed out the front door, not caring where you were going. You just needed out of there. Jennie’s house wasn’t that close to the dorm, but it didn’t matter. You wanted to walk anyway.

You did eventually make it back to the dorm, you didn’t know how long it took you and you didn’t care. Everything was ruined and you felt the most pathetic that you had ever been. You retreated to your room and the warmth of your bed, wanting to never leave it. You should have never come up with this idea if you knew it would turn out this way. You weren’t supposed to fall for your ex-best friend, your enemy.

Jihoon was also miserable, perhaps on a different and newfound level. He thought he was in a bad way when he broke up with Shayla, but it was nothing like the way he felt after Jennie tricked him. Nothing like the way his heart cracked when he saw your face and the way your chin trembled when you saw the kiss and nothing like when he called out to you, only for you to ignore him and walk out the door. 

He thought he might have loved Shayla when they were together, but he was so wrong. He loved you and it took losing you to finally realize it, to admit it to himself. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do now, but the most immediate solution was to numb the pain. He knew Wonwoo would come get him anyway, and so he drank. He drank a lot. Likely more than he ever had.

He drank so much that he didn’t even know how time moved forward and transported him to where he was now, outside, throwing his guts up in Jennie’s front garden. He must have called Wonwoo at some point, he most certainly didn’t remember doing it but Wonwoo was suddenly standing there in the yard, waiting to see if Jihoon’s stomach was done forcing out whatever contents were left. 

Wonwoo didn’t have much sympathy for his friend at this point. “How does it feel Jihoon? Being part of the popular crowd?” he mocked. 

“Shut up, Wonwoo,” Jihoon croaked, slowly getting up from his kneeling position in the grass to slowly tread toward Wonwoo’s car. Jihoon all but melted into the backseat once the two of them were both in the car, his head already starting to pound. 

“You really screwed up, you know,” Wonwoo said, once the car was on the way to Jihoon’s house. 

“How do you know what happened?” Jihoon mumbled the question

“You know how fast news travels around here,” he responded.

“Considering everyone was at the party, I’m not surprised.” Wonwoo slammed on the brakes, making Jihoon fall forward and smack his nose on the seat in front of him. “Ow, what the hell Wonwoo?!” he yelped, hands moving to his face to touch his now tender nose.

“Everybody was NOT there, Jihoon! Seungkwan and I weren’t there, Seokmin wasn’t there, so no, everybody was not at the party,” Wonwoo nearly growled. 

“Okay, sheesh. Everybody was not there,” Jihoon conceded, given his growing headache and the fact that Wonwoo so rarely yelled. 

“Get out,” Wonwoo said and Jihoon was about to protest when he looked out of the window to see that they had actually stopped outside his house. “Call me when you’ve decided to return back to being the friend I know.” 

Jihoon couldn’t respond, he didn’t have a decent answer for that. He just got out of the car, went into the house, and flopped face-first onto his bed. He did know that Wonwoo was right though, he royally fucked up. The only thing he could think about was talking to you, to see if there was a way to convince you of what truly happened with Jennie. 

He rolled back to his side, reaching his arm out to grab the phone from the nightstand. He didn’t know how late it was but prayed you’d still answer the phone. He punched in your number and waited as it rang and rang. He was just about to give up when a tired “hello?” answered. 

“Please let me explain,” Jihoon said, immediately. 

You sighed. “It doesn’t matter. It was crazy to think we could fake it this long, this is our easy out,” you responded, trying to keep your voice from breaking and giving you away. 

“What about the dance? That was the main goal of this whole thing,” he said. Jihoon knew that wasn’t why he wanted to keep this ruse going but it was all he could think to try.

“I’ll figure something out. Or maybe I won’t go at all. Let’s just go back to how things were before.” Tears were starting to slip down your cheeks now and you hung up the phone before Jihoon could hear the sob that left your chest.

After the party, days and weeks continued on but you and Jihoon were not the same. Jihoon spaced out often, going about his days in a trance. He even ignored Shaya’s renewed and constant advances on him. He didn’t want anyone else but you. Wonwoo had seen how depressed Jihoon was and took pity on him, letting everything that happened between the two of them that night go. You threw yourself into ball planning which was ironic considering you likely wouldn’t even be attending anymore and Jihoon spent more time editing in the broadcasting room, only being pulled out by his friends. 

You had all but stopped hanging out with all your “friends”, only working with them for the ball because you had to. Everything felt like a blur. You had confronted Jennie shortly after the night of the party, her only excuse being “I was doing you a favor.” Maybe in some way she really was, just not in the way she intended. Your relationship with Jihoon may have started out as a fake one but now your feelings were real and you needed to stop before they destroyed you both.

When the night of the ball came around, you found yourself in your dorm room with no date and crying once again. The dress you had picked out long ago to match the tux you had helped Jihoon pick out was hung on the back of your door, mocking you. Maybe you should go by yourself, it would be weird if the planner herself didn’t attend. You brushed the tears from your cheeks and shook your head. That was enough of that, crying and feeling sorry for yourself wouldn’t change anything.

Then your phone rang. “Hello?” you answered.

“Y/N? Hi,” spoke a voice that was vaguely familiar but not one you’d heard over the phone.

“Seungkwan?” you questioned.

“Yeah, it’s Seungkwan. Listen, I know you probably don’t have a date to the ball anymore and I think it would be a shame if you couldn’t go. You deserve to see your event finished so, how about I take you?” Seungkwan said.

For the first time since the night of the party, a genuine smile crossed your face. Seungkwan had always been the sweetest person you’d known, even after you all had parted ways as kids. “I’d like that,” you responded.

“Okay, cool. I can come pick you up in an hour. Will that be enough time to get ready?” he asked 

“Sure, see you soon,” you said, hanging up the phone and scrambling to start getting ready. That gave you an answer to your earlier thoughts of just going to the ball by yourself. You were much happier going with Seungkwan, someone you knew you’d have some fun with. You pulled your dress from where you had been glaring at it earlier, glad that it was no longer going to waste. You grabbed shoes that went with it from your closet and got ready as efficiently as you could.

You were smoothing out the bottom of your dress and making sure the last strands of your hair were in place when one of your dorm mates called up the stairs to let you know Seungkwan was there. You picked up the light sweater and small purse you had set out on a chair and walked down the stairs to meet Seungkwan. 

He smiled as he spotted you and said, “You look great.”

“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said back. His simple black tuxedo made him look handsome. You reached the bottom of the stairs and he pulled something out from behind his back, showing it to you.

“It was short notice, but this is for you,” Seungkwan said, holding out a pretty wrist corsage. 

You let out a pleased laugh and held out your wrist so that he could slip it on, the white rose simple but pretty. “Thank you, that was sweet of you.” 

“Of course, I can't let my best girl feel left out,” he said with a chuckle. 

Immediately you were thankful for at least one good thing that came out of all of this. You had a good friend in Seungkwan once again. “Let’s go,” you said and you headed to the dance.

Walking in the doors of the venue you rented, you took in everything. Seungkwan was right, you shouldn’t miss how everything you planned had come together. From the centerpieces on the tables to the twinkle lights winding around the beams in the ceiling, everything you had imagined and planned out. It looked perfect. There was only one thing missing, but there was nothing you could do about that anymore.

You and Seungkwan sat down for a little while at one of the tables, talking about different things and people watching before he asked you to dance. He got up from his seat, holding out his hand for you to take. You took it and he led you to the dance floor. Stopping at an empty spot toward the edge, he placed his hands on your back and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You began swaying to the music the DJ was playing. It was nice and comfortable but of course, it was only platonic with Seungkwan.

“Jihoon really likes you, you know,” he said eventually. You sighed, knowing this topic would come up eventually. Seungkwan cared about both of you. “And I know you like him too.” He continued, recounting how bleak the two of you had been in the past weeks.

“I know Seungkwan, but everything is all messed up now,” you said. 

“Well, now is your chance to fix it,” he suddenly said, looking up at something or rather someone.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“May I cut in?” A voice asked from behind you. You let out a small gasp. Jihoon?

Seungkwan’s hands left your back and he pressed a light kiss to your cheek, leaving you and Jihoon on the dance floor. You looked at Jihoon. He was wearing the tuxedo you picked out to match your dress and looked as handsome as ever. He approached you, gently placing his hands around your waist and you let your hands rest at the nape of his neck. Your fingers lightly brushed at the ends of his shaggy hair that you liked so much.

You danced a bit to the slow song that was on before you broke the tension between the two of you. “Why are you here, Jihoon?” you asked.

“Because I missed you. God, I missed you so much,” he blurted, pulling you closer to him. Your heart panged at his words. You missed him too and you knew that you didn’t want to pretend your feelings for him didn’t exist. 

“I missed you too,” you murmured.

“I’m so sorry about what happened with Jennie. I swear she tricked me but that’s not what matters. I like you, Y/N. I think I’ve always liked you, before everything got so messed up.” He was on a roll now, telling you all that was on his mind and everything he should have told you from the beginning when you both agreed to that stupid fake dating plan.

Your face broke out into a grin. “I like you, too.” Jihoon must have been holding his breath, because he let out a rush of air in relief at your response. “I asked Jennie why she did what she did and she told me she was doing us a favor. I guess in some way, she really did.”

Then Jihoon reached out a hand to cup your cheek, his eyes looking into yours before he leaned forward to press his lips against yours. There were no fireworks, but something much better as you kissed him back. Warmth. A warmth that radiated through your entire body and you couldn’t have imagined anything better. 

You broke away after a few minutes, becoming aware that several eyes were on the two of you. Specifically the eyes of Jennie, Johnny, Mark, Miyeon, and a few of the others. “Who are we making jealous now, Jihoon?” you laughed.

“Everyone,” was his response and he kissed you again, making everything around you disappear. 

“Wanna get out of here?” you asked.

“I have just the place in mind,” he answered, cheekily and the two of you left hand in hand.

After the dance, you came bursting through the gate to Jihoon’s backyard, giggling like you were little kids again. The only difference was now Jihoon kept pausing to kiss you every few minutes as he led you to the treehouse. He pulled you with him up the ladder and into the familiar house. Except that instead of just the pillows and the small table that you remember being there before, there were blankets and lit candles set out in the corners.

“Did you plan this?” you asked, suspicious.

“I had hoped?” he responded, innocently. 

You shook your head, “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I am very lucky.”

“If I knew you were going to be this cheesy-” He cut you off with another kiss and led you over to the blankets that were laid out in the middle of the wooden floor. He sat down, pulling you to sit with him. He initiated a make-out session that began innocently but was now starting to get heated. He leaned backward, laying back against the blankets and making you lay on top of him.

His kisses moved to your jaw and to your collarbone making you let out a gasp and thread your hands through his dark locks. All the pent-up feelings and chemistry that had built up between you was finally reaching a breaking point, in your childhood hangout no less. Your hands made work with his clothes, taking off his jacket and working on the buttons of his shirt. He pulled the straps of your dress down your shoulders when you finally managed to rid him of the annoying button-down.

To make it easier for him, you straightened your back so he could pull the entire thing up and over your head. You were left in just your underwear and Jihoon paused to look at you before taking off his dress pants. “You are gorgeous,” he whispered, pressing light kisses to your shoulders. You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of being loved on by him.

Soon you both had been rid of all remaining garments, leaving you completely naked and hands roaming each other's bodies. Jihoon’s length pressed against your thighs, making you moan at the skin contact and buck against him. He hissed in pleasure and bit his lip, the action increasing the arousal at your core. He moved to grind his head against your sensitive nub and you let out a whine. 

After a few minutes of that, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You needed him inside you. “Jihoon…” you breathed out.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Please,” you whimpered.

He reached over to his discarded pants to get the little foil packet from the pocket. He opened it and slid the condom over his cock with a hiss. He steaded your hips and ran his length through your folds a few times before he slowly slid into you, letting you adjust to his size.

“Fuck,” he let out a groan as your heat engulfed him. He began moving slowly within you. Your sacred childhood treehouse was now filled with lewd slaps of skin against skin and moans filled with pleasure. You established a rhythm that had you both slowly chasing your highs together. Your moans had turned to mewls as the coil in the pit of your stomach was stretching to its limit. 

“I’m close, Ji,” you whimpered. The use of Jihoon’s nickname drove him to the edge as well and he pumped into you that much harder. The coil snapped and you orgasmed, hard enough that your thighs shook. Your walls contracting around him made Jihoon hit his high as well. His hips stilled and he let out a groan, emptying his seed into the condom.

He slowly pulled out of you and you both collapsed next to each other on the blankets with heaving breaths. After a few minutes and your breathing had returned to normal, Jihoon turned to look at you, his head resting on his shoulder. “So, frienemies?” he asked with a chuckle. 

You reached out and smacked him in the chest. “Jihoon!”

“Ouch, I’m kidding. I know we are more than that. So much more than that,” he said, tugging you closer to him and leaving a kiss on your forehead. 

“Yes, absolutely more than that,” you agreed. Jihoon drove you crazy, but you came to the conclusion that you didn’t want it any other way.

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