#they had like one really good date and tried ti keep in contact

[codemonki]

I don't care if this trend was from last year

[babydollmarauders]

BALLAD OF A HOMESCHOOLED GIRL — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n goes on a date with Jack and thinks she made a complete fool of herself

notes: obviously inspired by Ballad of a Homeschooled Girl by Olivia Rodrigo, not proofread and written on extreme sleepiness. (3.6k words)

third dates.

my mother always told me to have them in group settings.

she said the first date is to get to know each other; the second is to learn how he’d treat you in private; the third date is to learn how he’d treat you in front of his friends.

most guys seem to get intimidated when i ask about joining a hang out with his friends for the third date, but Jack was different. i had told Jack on our first about my rules.

first date in a public setting, but alone.

second date in private, his apartment or mine.

third date with a group of friends.

i hadn’t expected him to take it so well, nodding along as though even without context, it made sense. he didn’t ask for clarification, which was good because i had learned after my last relationship not to give any; lest they’ll act like a gentlemen in front of their friends until we start dating.

i honestly didn’t expect Jack to contact me again, fully awaiting the discovery that he’d ghosted me, possibly even blocked me to keep me from talking to him again. but then he texted me tonight.

“i know it’s last minute, but third date tonight? me and some guys from the team are going for drinks, would you wanna come?”

and now here i am, walking into a pretty secluded bar to meet Jack and about half a dozen other professional hockey players. to say i’m nervous would be a massive understatement.

i spent at least half an hour trying on various outfits, but nothing felt right. every article of clothing i tried on had something wrong with it; whether it be that it didn’t fit quite right, or it didn’t match the occasion, or i just deemed it didn’t look good on me, something was always wrong. so i finally settled on a nice sundress, despite the chilled air of the evening.

“y/n!” my head turns in search of the voice that called my name, locking eyes with Jack, where he sits at a high top table with five other guys. “i was starting to think you’d stood me up!”

my eyebrows furrow as i walk over to him, stopping at the end of the table. my stomach ties in knots at all of the eyes on me. i hate attention.

“why would i do that?” a few of the guys chuckle at my question, but i’m not sure i understand what’s so funny.

“i was joking.” Jack clarifies.

oh.

embarrassment washes over me and i can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, but Jack just smiles sweetly, rising to his feet and pulling out the chair beside him.

“oh, thank you.” i take a seat and he returns to his, his hand settling on my knee as one of the guys begin to speak.

“so, you’re y/n?” my eyes go wide, and i glance over at Jack but he’s looking over at the other guy. “i’m Luke.”

“nice to meet you, Luke.” i give the curly headed boy a tight smile, “so, you play with Jack?”

the boy grins, nodding his head, “i guess you could say that.”

everyone snickers, and i fear i’ve made a mistake of some sort. my blood runs cold; i hate feeling like i’m on the outside of some giant inside joke.

maybe this was a mistake.

Jack squeezes my knee, and i look over at him with subtly pleading eyes, silently begging for him to save me.

“Luke is my younger brother, but he does play on the team with me.” there it is. that’s where i messed up.

“oh, i’m sorry.” i’m not sure what i’m apologizing for, but it seems like the right thing to do. i glance back at Luke, “i knew Jack had mentioned your name before but, he’s mentioned so many names that at this point they all jumble together in my head.”

Luke just shakes his head, waving it off. “nah, don’t worry, it’s okay.”

after that, i decide it’s better to go quiet; only really speaking when spoken to. i can’t embarrass myself if i’m not saying anything.

“hey.” Jack’s voice is soft, and at first, i don’t even realize he’s talking to me, until i tear my eyes from who i now know as Dawson, who’s telling a story with wildly gesturing hands. “do you wanna go get a drink?”

he nods his head over towards the bar, and i nod, desperately in need of something to ease my nerves, “yes, please.”

Jack and i rise from our seats, his hand going to my lower back to stabilize me as i stumble. my cheeks go red, but i decide it’s better not to acknowledge my clumsiness.

“and i— where are you guys going?” Dawson cuts himself off, drawing attention to Jack and i’s retreating pair. “did i bore you, y/n?”

i stop in my tracks, freezing up as guilt takes over me.

“i- what? n-no! Jack-” i stumble over my words in a panic, attempting to reassure him, but apparently i didn’t help my case.

“see, Merc! poor y/n even finds your story stupid.” John laughs and i shake my head wildly.

“no! i found it interesting!” Nico snickers at my words, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“interesting. that’s one way of putting it.”

oh god, i made it worse.

“guys, leave her alone.” Jack speaks up, rolling his eyes at his friends before he turns back to me. “c’mon, ignore them, they’re just raggin’ on you.”

my brows thread together in confusion, but i nod nonetheless, allowing him to use his hand that still rests on my back to guide me over to the bar.

“i’m sorry about them.” he sighs as we reach the counter, waiting for a bartender. “they have a stupid sense of humor.”

“no! no, it’s fine!” i assure him.

it’s not them, it’s me.

i’ve never been great at picking up on social cues, perhaps due to my odd lifestyle as a child.

when the bartender reaches us, Jack orders another beer before looking over at me, “oh, can i just get an aperol spritz, please?”

Jack hands over his card and when he gets it back he turns to me.

“i gotta run to the bathroom, are you okay waiting for the drinks? i’ll be back in a second.” i nod and he takes off towards the restroom, leaving me alone.

“so, you like him?” apparently not alone for long.

i turn my head in surprise, only to find Luke standing beside me. he asks the bartender who arrives back with Jack and i’s drinks for another beer and the man nods.

“hmm? Jack?” Luke nods and i smile looking down into my glass. “yeah, i really like him.”

“see, i said so!” my face scrunched in confusion as i look back at him.

“you said so?” i question.

“yeah! Johnny was trying to say you must not like him because you aren’t being very flirty, but i told him- i said you obviously like him if you’re on a third date.”

flirting.

i’ve never been great at that. and i haven’t needed to be, Jack is the one who approached me first, he’s the one who asked me out and he hasn’t given any indication that i have any reason to have to flirt to keep his attention.

“oh.”

Luke pays for his beer before retreating back to the table with a low “see you in a few.”

i’m quick to tear my phone out of my pocket, glancing over towards the restrooms for a moment to make sure my date isn’t coming back before making a quick google search.

this seems impossible.

“hey.” Jack reappears beside me and i hastily lock my phone, looking up at him as i go to slide it back into my pocket. but the combination of my fidgety hands, quick movements, and not paying attention to my surroundings doesn’t end well.

before i can even blink, my hand is knocking into my glass, the drink sliding off the bar top and onto the floor, shattering upon impact.

“oh my god!” i squeal, jumping back from the broken shards. i glance down at the mess before looking back up at Jack. “i am so sorry!”

i turn to the waitress who comes rushing towards us with a broom and towels, apologizing profusely and offering to clean it up myself.

“it’s no problem, happens all the time.” she tells me with a smile, but i still bury my face in my hands.

i’m making a fool of myself.

“can we get another aperol spritz?” i peek through my eyes at the sound of Jack’s voice, watching as he hands the bartender his card again.

“i am so sorry, Jack.” my voice is low and whimpered, my shoulders rising as though to protect myself. “i just wasted your money and made a huge mess.”

Jack smiles softly, shaking his head as he chuckles, “don’t worry about it. it’s seriously okay, y/n. accidents happen, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

i nod, but i truly feel horrible now.

this was a mistake. i should’ve just stayed home; watched a cheesy romance or read a true crime novel and gone to bed early.

the bartender hands me the new drink, and i thank him before Jack leads me back to the table.

“everything okay?” Timo questions as we return and Jack just nods as we settle back in our seats.

“yeah, just a little accident. it’s all good.” the guys chuckle but all turn back to their previous conversation, somehow now on the topic of the wildest things they did in school.

i stay silent, hoping and praying to any higher power that they don’t involve me in this conversation, but my luck runs out pretty quickly. although i’m not sure i’ve had any tonight in the first place.

“what about you, y/n?” Nico is the one to rope me in, “what’s the wildest thing you did in school?”

“i- uh-” i internally cringe, mentally preparing myself for their jokes, “i was homeschooled. so, i didn’t really get to do anything crazy like you guys.”

“ohh, you’re a homeschool kid.” Luke nods as if it makes sense.

“did you know that statistically speaking, homeschoolers are more likely to graduate than public schoolers?” John pipes up, and i shake my head.

“really?” Jack questions, his nose scrunched cutely in disbelief.

“no, i- uh, i didn’t know that.” John nods at my words.

“yeah, look it up!” he points to my phone, which never actually made it to my pocket after the broken glass fiasco and now resides face down on the table.

i pick it up and Jack and Dawson, who both reside on either respective side of me, lean in to see my phone screen, eager to find out whether their teammate is correct.

but when i unlock my phone, my eyes grow wide and i’m eagerly attempting to swipe out of the current window, but it’s as if the world is against me because this is the exact moment that my phone screen decides to freeze.

“does that say ‘how to flirt?’” Dawson chuckles and i bite my lip, giving up and slamming my phone face down onto my lap as the table bursts into laughter.

i’m blushing like a mad woman, squeezing my eyes shut as i bury my face into my hands for the second time that night.

“aww y/n, you really let John get to you, huh?” Luke teases, and i feel like i could cry of embarrassment.

everything i do is tragic.

suddenly my seat is moving, scooting further to my right, before an arm is spindling around my waist. i let my hands lower just slightly to peer up at Jack, who wears a happy grin, his cheeks tinged pink.

he glances down at me, smiling even wider when he sees that i’m already looking at him.

it’s like a cat’s got my tongue, too stunned by the overwhelming mortification of the situation to even get a word out to explain or defend myself.

but Jack doesn’t seem to mind, pulling me into his body until my head is against his collarbone as he changes the subject; bringing up a story about he and his older brother trying to free an infant Luke from his crib when they were younger.

i’m quiet as the group speaks, most of them speaking over each other, which in turn makes others get louder to try and be heard. my head aches and i need a break.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” i whisper, freeing myself from Jack’s hold as he nods in understanding.

“okay. are you okay?” i give him a small smile, reassuring him that i’m fine before i leave.

my hands rest upon the bathroom sink, my eyes glaring into my reflection in the wonky bar mirror.

“get it together.” i try and tell myself, but it comes out in more of a whine.

why am i like this?

i run my hands through my hair, making sure it’s volumized, and heave out a sigh before i make my way back out of the restroom to join the table again.

on my way back, i can’t help but smile at the sight of Jack laughing with his friends.

he seems so carefree.

but i should’ve been watching where i was going, because halfway to the table, i’m tripping over someone’s heeled foot, landing on my knee on the hard ground.

“oh shit!” Jack’s voice echoes over the loudness of the music and bar-goers, and i can hear multiple chairs screech across the floor. “y/n, are you okay?”

oh god, i wanna curl up and die.

“yeah, i’m fine.” my voice is wavering and weak, so over making an idiot of myself tonight.

Jack appears in front of me, holding his hands out to help me up. his skin is soft as i slide my hands into his, allowing him to pull me up to my feet.

his friends stand behind him, a couple biting back laughs, but the others wide eyed in concern.

i let Jack guide me back to the table, and when i sit down, he’s kneeling in front of me, inspecting my knee for any immediate bruising or marks.

i sigh and he looks up at me, worry settled into his expression.

“that was a hell of a tumble.” Timo snickers, but he sobers up quickly as his eyes meet Jack’s, “you’re okay though, right?”

“physically? yes. mentally? questionable.” the table laughs, but i didn’t mean to joke, which only makes me press my lips together.

Jack finally deems my knee okay, settling back into his seat and letting his arm rest over the back of my chair.

“what were we talking about?” Jack asks, effectively diverting the attention away from my fall and back to the conversation from while i was gone.

“cheating.” John states, taking a sip from his beer.

i let out a little laugh, thinking he was just joking, but i sober up as i realize nobody else is.

“oh, you were serious.” i bite my lip as he nods.

“right!” Luke exclaims, “so people are saying he cheated on her?”

“yeah,” Dawson nods, and i’m a bit lost, “which i don’t understand, because all he did was hold hands with the other girl. we don’t know anything other than that. holding hands could have so many different meanings.”

i take a big gulp of my drink, listening intently as the guys debate cheating and what counts as cheating.

“i think, if one of you guys cheated on your girlfriend, i might ‘accidentally’ knock your teeth out on the ice.” Nico tells them, making the guys and i laugh. “i’m serious, you’d be bag skating until you physically drop from exhaustion.”

and like word vomit, before i can stop myself, i’m speaking, “my friend recently cheated on her boyfriend, and i can’t tell if i should tell him or let him find out on his own.”

their heads turn to me and i shrink in my seat as i realize what just escaped my lips.

“oh my god, i’m not supposed to be telling that to anyone.” my hand covers my mouth, and a few of the guys laugh at my actions.

“you should definitely tell him.” John shrugs, “he deserves to know.”

“i thought so too, but if i do tell him, does that make me a horrible friend?” the guys all start shouting different things along the same lines.

some telling me it doesn’t make me a bad friend, while others telling me that i shouldn’t be friends with her anymore anyways.

“has she done anything else?” Luke asks, and i scrunch my nose.

“cheating wise, no: just one drunken kiss with some guy.” i start. “but she told him she was sick to get out of meeting his parents.”

i clap my hand over my mouth again, shocked that these secrets are just tumbling out of me.

“fuck, i shouldn’t be telling you guys these things.”

the guys cackle and Dawson changes the subject, apparently just remembering a story of something that happened to him back home over the summer.

i remain quiet for the next fifteen or so minutes, just listening as the guys go back and forth, telling stories of their summers, until i feel Jack’s hand on my shoulder.

“hey, i’m heading home, do you want me to drop you off at your house?”

i eagerly accept his offer, happily willing to leave now and avoid paying for an uber during surge pricing. the both of us bid goodbye to his teammates and his brother, who says he’ll hitch a ride back to the apartment with Dawson, before we head out to his car.

i smile as he opens the car door for me, allowing me to climb in before he shuts the door again and jogs around the front of the car, slipping into the drivers side.

i don’t need to give him my address, our second date having been at my apartment, so i just clasp my hands tightly together in my lap, both of his on his steering wheel.

“i had fun tonight.” he tells me as we pull up to my apartment building.

“yeah, your friends are nice.”

not a complete lie. they are nice, i’m just not sure i got along with them, or more so, that they liked me.

“can i walk you up?” i accept his request and he exits the car, running around it to open my door before i get the chance to.

i mentally prepare myself on the silent elevator up to my apartment, readying myself to have him tell me that he doesn’t think we fit.

i was awkward tonight, breaking a glass, stumbling over my words, tripping, googling things that should be common knowledge, and telling secrets i had no business telling.

i couldn’t think of any worse ways to ruin a potential relationship.

when we reach my apartment, Jack stops me in front of my door, and before he gets the chance to belittle my dignity any further than i, myself, already have, i’m speaking up.

“i completely understand if you don’t wanna continue this.” i sigh, finding sudden interest in my shoes. “i made a complete fool of myself tonight.”

“why would you think i don’t wanna see you again?” he sounds hurt, his finger hooking under my chin and pulling my head up to look at him.

i chuckle lowly, “you can’t take me anywhere. every time i go out, it’s social suicide.”

“so you’re a bit clumsy and you need time to click with my friends and their humor, so what?” he shrugs, “i think you’re cute. and i’m incredibly honored that you wanted to flirt with me.”

i groan, my face flushing, and i tip my head back to look up at the ceiling.

“oh god, that was so embarrassing.” i whine.

“it was sweet.” Jack chuckles, pulling me into his chest. his arms wrap around me and i melt into his embrace, his chin resting on top of my head.

“i really like you, y/n. and tonight may not have gone the way you would’ve liked, and i can respect that, you’re allowed to feel that way, but i really liked it. i got a chance to figure out more about you and what you’re like, and it only solidified that i’d really like to keep getting to know you, see where this could lead.”

my head snaps up to look him in the eyes, “you would?”

he giggles at my actions, nodding his head. “yeah, i would.”

his head dips down and i suck in a breath as his lips near mine.

“can i kiss you?” he questions, and i nod.

“yes, please.”

his lips slot against mine, moving in sync and pulling me even closer to him if it’s possible. his hands slide up to cup the back of my neck, his tongue tracing my bottom lip and i part my lips to allow him entrance.

what starts slow and passionate, turns into something hot and heavy. i huff as he pulls away, my lips chasing after his and making him smile.

“do you wanna come inside?” i ask him, my voice low and sultry, and his eyes darken almost instantly.

he smirks, answering only by taking my keys from my hands and unlocking my door, leading me into my own apartment.

“ya know, i don’t think you needed that google search. you’re pretty good at luring me in all on your own.”

[nohoney]

imagine: you just had a nasty breakup and you decide to take a break from serious dating and have a hot girl summer for yourself. just sex zero commitments fuck as many people as you want. the problem arises when the first guy you end up fucking, bakugou, is so good so you decide to keep him on as a fuck buddy while you continue looking for future conquests.

little do you know that bakugou fell head over heels for you after that first night together and now he’s doing everything within his power to get you to fall in love with him, that is everything short of actually telling you his feelings because he’s so emotionally constipated and damn near bites your head off when you playfully joke that he might have a crush on you.

oh my god oh my god (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄)

bakugou tries to keep his cool so bad, doesn’t ask questions or doesn’t want to think about how you’re still out there seeing other people aside from him. he feels a little ridiculous that it seems to be a one sided thing—he’s got your contact pinned to the top of his text inbox, he keeps toiletries of your preference in his home, and hell he gave you his passwords for two of the streaming services he pays for!

it’s all shit that he thinks screams i fucking like you!

and yet he can’t muster up the actual words to say it out loud. because you don’t want to be tied down, you want to experience being single after your shit break up, and you don’t trust any person right now to handle your heart after what you’ve been through.

bakugou respects all that, but he really really wants you and you’re the only one he wants to be seeing. he’s so damn stupid though because you joked one time about him having some feels for you and he was too quick to snap at you.

“this is only for fun, that’s it.” he reacts instinctively even though he knew he should have said otherwise in that moment. and there was no awkward silence or weird look with how fast he reacted to your joke. only a laugh and an agreeing nod as you dipped a strawberry into a little bowl of nutella he had ready for you as a post sex snack.

“yeah, i’m sooo grateful that you’re my number one right now. can’t believe how lucky i was to get you on the first try!”

number one on your roster, it’s a title that bakugou is happy to have and also hates it at the same time. there’s others after him, numbers two to four or maybe you’ve got eight people on your list—fuck!!!

it drives him crazy!

he doesn’t want to drive you off with these stupid feelings, and he’s especially smug when you text him about some date that had pissed you off beforehand and that you’re heading over to his place. he hopes that the sex he gives you is so good that it’s enough for you to reconsider just making him your only fuck buddy. he quite literally prays on the downfall of your dating life so that he’s the only one around.

so for now he settles with letting you sleep in his bed when he fucks you too hard, hoping that the breakfast he makes you in the morning screams the message i can be your boyfriend.

[hyewka]

warnings; (sort of bratty) sub!beomgyu, idol!au, grinding, handjob, uncommitted reader, angsty fwb, use of pet names, non proofread + drabble length

…fucking with trainee!beomgyu in a practice room as an established idol because you’re bored, just a little bit of teasing, a bit of touching over his pants, a squeeze to his thighs and he’s all of a sudden following you everywhere. attached to your hips, on your heels like a lovesick puppy…making everyone in the company misunderstand your relationship with the boy. you even get a talk with your manager about being careful with dabbling in the trainee circle, and you have to continuously explain that no, you are not dating beomgyu! hell, you didn’t even know his name before that one conversation in the practice room. whispers about you goes around the artists and staff like its the gossip of town—you know it’d pass but it was such a headache.

yet as you much as you denied anything further than a friendship with beomgyu, and tried to keep it that way, you can’t help but creak open the smaller practice room reserved mainly for trainees. coming in late as you informed him prior that it’d be too difficult and all too risky to do anything in daylight, finding him laying on his back on the cold wooden floor, staring up the ceiling blowing his lips, he’s too cute for you to pass up due to dumb rumors. coming in and he immedietley sits up at the bang of the shut door that echoes the empty room—puppy eyes glimmering despite the pout that rests his lips. “you didn’t get food?”

you snort, “no, are you hungry? there’s a vending machine down the hall.”

“yeah but i want real food. plus all the good snacks are hogged by eric.” he grumbles the last part, yet still leans to the affectionate, yet sudden hand on his cheek, your thumb soothing over his skin. god, he was such a cute guy.

“mm, really? i’ll get some takeout for you tomorrow then, promise.”

maybe it was because he was hungry now, and the promise of tomorrow dissatisfied him, but you still note that you catch a glimpse of a displeased look on his face. and as you lean down to catch him into a frenzied kiss, you wipe it away as fast as it appeared—he’s already losing control pulling you down by your wrist to sit, having you situated on top of his lap. when you pull away to see a swell of his pretty lips, glistening, you smirk. he looks down to avoid eye contact, “geez, take a guy out on a date first.”

you immediately find his lips again, lightly biting down on his bottom lip, to which sends out a jolt to his body, make him whimper into your mouth and god you love it so much, the slightest of things you do and he reacts. his hands once hovering over your ass pushed down, to say that yes, he can touch you, and he squeezes, kneeds your cheeks. you almost let yourself smile into the kiss at just how dumb and adorable he is, but then you remember why you pounced on him like that.

take a guy out on a date first? it’s a common joke, and you know that, but it still sets off an uneasy feeling, alarm bells if you will. because beomgyu has said those exact words two times now in the past week, and hes hinted at going out (which sounded way too identical to a date) more than a dozen times. you’re beginning to think he might feel more than surface level attraction…something that has ties with commitment and oh lord, you feel like you might just ruin the mood for yourself.

and so your hips find themselves rolling into him, you breaking the kiss and him chasing blindly, completely breathless, chest heaving, groaning as you press down your weight directly on his crotch, which is by now a full tent, poking between your ass. “don’t cum too fast gyu.” you put on a demanding voice. he had a tendency to do it anyway, but you found that when you told him not to, he held out for a little longer.

eyes squeezed shut, he quickly nods, feeling out the grind of your pussy folds through the skimpy excuse of your grey shorts, thin fabric he could feel your wetness dripping into his pants as you move yourself forward and back. “you must’ve been practicing a lot, you look so tired baby.” you coo, not exactly feigning the concern slipping through your tone.

he lets out a sigh of pleasure, and you know it’s because of your choice of using a petname on him. “don’t overwork yourself,”

“or i wouldn’t have anyone else to fuck around with.”

you’re startled at the way his eyes fly open, and his brows change to a deep furrow, but he stays silent, despite looking like he had something to say. you shrug it off subconsciously, still rolling your hips. you lean to capture his lips again, but he backs away a bit, and you blink confused. “can we get food after this?”

okay, so the mention of food while you’re quite literally grinding sort of pisses you off but you respond anyway. “you’re hungry, i get it baby.” you try to kiss him again and this time he lets you for a bit…before he whines again, signaling you to stop.

what now?

“no, like seriously.” your hands drop from cupping his cheeks, shooting a puzzled look.

“beomgyu, do you want me to pull out my phone and order right now or something?”

he groans rolling his eyes, “i don’t want you to order takeout and i don’t want to eat in this small stupid practice room. i want to go out with you, like, outside of these walls. at a restaurant and eat. is that so bad?”

okay, now the alarm bells are going off in your head. your breathing feels like it just cut itself off and you’re dizzy. immedietely you reach for your bag, and try to get off his lap but his eyes widen, and his hands fly from the floor to your arms, “no wait, no i didn’t mean to freak you out i’m sorry, forget i said that.”

you hesitate, looking into his eyes, the way it panics, his iris moving back and forth like he’s afraid, afraid you’d pull out your arm from his hold and never talk to him again. but you’re not that strong. “don’t say stuff like that, i told you i don’t like it. we agreed on keeping it in here.”

he sulks, his bottom lip sticking up, “yeah, i know, i’m sorry. please stay.”

you hum, tilting your head to leave wet kisses down his neck and beomgyu’s breath hitches, then it picks up as he gets lost in the pleasure, fanning against your exposed skin. “i just want you so much.”

you pond on that and almost freeze again but he immeditely backtracks, “like in a getting my dick wet way. not in the—f-fuck.”

“you talk too much. we’re usually way past foreplay by now.”

he doesn’t respond, starting to hump and chase your heat as if you’re not already basically bouncing on him. you don’t mind it, it’s endearing actually. you just wish he could shut up like he usually does. “i thought you didn’t want me to overwork myself because you cared.”

you grip the base of his cock through his pants and he lets out a hiss, turning into a puddle when you rub it out. beomgyu was so easy to please. “look in the mirror puppy. i do care.”

beomgyu’s eyes are glossy with tears, clouded as he shifts them to look at himself in the mirror where both of you are sprawled on the floor, the exact same floor that could either break or make his dream, the exact one that granted you your dream. the reason you can’t even bare to be seen with him anymore.

“no, you care about me being your little bitch toy.”

you tut at him, pulling out his dick, you admire the way it’s leaking so much already, he’s basically about to cum and you haven’t messed with him enough just yet.

“does that matter? i still care regardless.” he whips his head to look at you, but his body fails him when you drag your hand down, then back up to rub your thumb over his slit, spreading dribbles of the liquid over the head. his eyes flutter and his defensive walls put up almost immediately begin to crumble, “look at the mirror, not me.”

“it does matter.” he retorts sharply, though it comes out rather wobbly, ignoring you completely.

you roll your eyes, taking it upon yourself to move his head forcefully to the mirror like he was a misbehaving child, “you’re such a brat, you know that? look at the way you spread your legs for me puppy, you are my little bitch toy.”

though his lips are pressed into a tight thin line, your ears could still pick up little whimpers. you stop your speed, holding your hand in one spot and he immediately panics. “i was close!” he whines, trying to fuck into your fist.

“too bad, i’m not gonna move my hand until you admit it.” you tease, beomgyu in fact not successful in getting any friction from your tight hand.

“admit what?” he finally asks, exasperated.

“that you’re my bitch toy.”

he shoots you a dirty look, clearly not up for it. which you’re okay with, edging him was always a favorite.

“i-i’m your bitch toy.” your brows raise, surprised that he was so quick to obey with how bratty hes been so far. “i’m your bitch toy, please touch me— m’ close…”

you watch the way he had the tendency to squeeze his eyes shut but he resists it and looks directly in the mirror again, keeping them firm on himself. you’re satisfied, humming.

“gooood boy.” you coo, noticing the shudder that sends him, half the mind to not giggle. he was way too adorable for your own good.

as you promised, you move your hand, dragging it up and down in long strokes before switching your pace, pumping his length at a faster speed.

“shit, i’m g-gonna—“ he mewls, brows furrowed, tensing up before his own spurts of semen cuts him off—white ropes to his embarrassment making a mess on the floor. you watch with amusement as he spills a bit more, before concluding you were done here.

when you stand up, you immedietely feel a hand grab your ankle. you look down with a brow raised.

he still looks dazed, the post nut clarity not hitting yet you assume. “where’re you going? we haven’t fucked yet.”

“i’m ending it, beomgyu. whatever ‘it’ is. i don’t think i’d be able to let you go if we fucked again.”

the boy huffs out an incredulous laugh, not thinking you were actually serious with this. but when your facial expression leaves no room for the assumption you were teasing him, the panic from earlier settles in. “what, are you like, breaking up with me?”

this was the exact issue; beomgyu was too deluded and attached, everything you’re not risking to deal with as someone with an actual career. if you let it continue he’d ask for more, and you can’t grant him more. “we were never together.”

[suddencolds]

Fool Me Twice | [1/?]

Original fic ft. my OCs! To be honest, l’m a little nervous about posting this—I’ve never posted anything with my OCs on here before—but I had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope it’s interesting to someone :’)

I envision this to be the first (chronologically) in their series, so no context needed!

Summary: Yves needs a date to the party, and Vincent seems happy to play the part, for better or for worse. But a last-minute cold throws a wrench in their plans. - (ft. fake dating, heartbreak, a New Year’s party, and a cold)

—

Yves tries to be the bigger person about it, really.

He has every intention of never contacting Erika again. He thinks he never wants to speak to her again, and he certainly has no intention of doing anything in retaliation. Not that she would care if he tried. He tells himself he’ll take all of it in stride—the cheating, the breakup, her immediate engagement with Brendon—and never speak to her again.

The problem is that he and Erika were friends before they dated. The problem, really, is that they both know Margot, who’s throwing an end-of-the-year party—an annual occasion, and one which he promised her months back he would attend—and Erika is, without a doubt, going to be there with the very person she left him for.

The problem is, Margot knows he’s in town. He could take the easy way out—say he’s been called away last minute for some cousin’s wedding in Europe—and tell her he isn’t attending, and he’s half considering it when Erika texts him.

E: what are you thinking of getting for margot?

Yves thinks of ten responses to that, which do not exclude please do not ever contact me again and I’m definitely not going to the party if you are. Instead, he shuts his phone off, takes a run around the neighborhood, showers, makes breakfast. Then, against all better judgment, he texts her back.

Y: nice try. can’t have you stealing my idea

And he knows he should leave it. He knows that if he doesn’t show up to the party, everything will be fine, even if it means that Erika will get to tell her side of the story—frame her own infidelity in such skewed, oversimplifying terms that it will seem perfectly reasonable, and maybe even shift some of the blame to Yves in the process—to practically everyone he’d spoken to in university. It will be for the better.

But part of him is bitter. Part of him wants to show up to the party and show her just how fine he is, just how little he needs her. Part of him wants to show her that he hasn’t thought about her at all since the breakup. That he’s doing perfectly fine without her—or, better yet, that he’s better off now; even more ludicrously, that their breakup was one of the best things that’s ever happened to him. 

It wasn’t. It isn’t. He misses her more than he’d like to admit. But he can’t help but think it would be nice to even out the score, for once, after everything she’s put him through.

It’s that train of thought that leads him to… well, drastic measures.

“I can’t believe the year’s almost over,” he says, at work, to Vincent Gates, in the break room. “It really felt like it dragged at the start.” this, he thinks, is probably not a relatable sentiment to Vincent Gates, who probably keeps impeccable track of time, but at least it’s a half-decent setup to the next question he’s planning to ask: “are you going anywhere for the holidays?”

Vincent has been his coworker for almost a year now—ever since Yves started working with Evertech Solutions. 

And Vincent is good at his job, as far as Yves can see. He minds his own business, and—as Yves had told Erika when they were still dating—he “looks like the kind of person they hire for photoshoots.” He’s attractive in a natural, boyish sort of way—he has soft, feathery dark hair that hangs just short of his eyes; high, angular cheekbones, and a decent jawline. He wears glasses with wiry red frames, and he almost always wears ties, and he brings the same laptop bag to work every morning.

All in all, he carries himself like someone who takes himself all too seriously. And, most importantly, Erika has heard of him.

“I don’t have anything planned,” Vincent says.

“Great,” Yves says. Here goes nothing. “One of my friends is throwing a New Year’s party, and I was wondering if you’d—”

“I’m not interested.”

Really, it’s not as though Yves hadn’t expected this.

“Okay,” he says evenly. “Not a fan of parties?”

“Not exactly,” Vincent says, which is Yves’s cue to take his coffee and get out of here before this gets any more awkward. Except, then he adds, “I mean, if your friend was desperate enough to have you soliciting your coworkers…”  

Yves blinks. “I’m not allowed to invite my coworkers?”

Vincent shrugs. “We don’t know each other very well. If you’re asking me, I assume you’ve already asked half the office.”

“I haven’t.” he hadn’t intended to explain himself—or any part of this situation, really—unless Vincent had said yes. But now, he thinks, leaving things on this note would probably come across as some sort of clumsy proposition. Better to clarify while he still can. “It’s not really that sizeable of a party.”

“So,” Vincent says.

“So,” Yves clears his throat. “If i’m being really honest here, my ex is going to be there. At the party, I mean, with the guy she cheated on me with like, half a year ago, whom she’s currently dating. So I wanted to find someone to go with too. And you’re right—this is probably the worst place in the world to be looking for a plus one. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“And you’re asking me because?”

She knows you, he doesn’t say. “You didn’t seem like the type of person who would make a big deal out of it,” he reasons instead, with a shrug, which isn’t untrue. “That’s all. Forget I asked.” he swipes his coffee mug from the counter, turns to leave.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Vincent says.

Yves doesn’t turn around. Swallows down the faintest semblance of hope that those words stir in his chest. “What?”

“Like I said, parties aren’t my scene. But if one of us is getting something out of this, I would be fine with it.”

“Oh.” This is better news than expected. He doesn’t manage to hide his surprise. “Great. You’re a lifesaver, Vincent. I’ll give you my number so we can coordinate?”

—

Vincent texts him later that night.

V: Do you think your ex will ask me about you?

It’s not out of the question: if they’re going to pretend to be dating, Vincent is going to need much more context than what he’s presumably picked up from their limited interactions in the office. So Yves spends the weekend getting Vincent up to speed:

His ex’s name is Erika, they dated for two years before he caught her making out with a colleague at a party he wasn’t invited to, she hadn’t had the courtesy to pretend to be remorseful when he confronted her about it. (“It wouldn’t have been any more forgivable if she were remorseful about it,” Vincent says over lunch, which Yves guesses is technically true, even if it doesn’t feel that way). When they’d broken up, he’d never wanted to talk to her again. But they were friends before they ever dated, and half of his close friends are her friends, too. So naturally, she has her way of showing up in his life when he least wants to see her.

They’d been friends ever since their first year in university—they’d gotten close over sleepless nights at the library and pre-sunrise mornings with the rowing team (“Somehow you rowing crew doesn’t really surprise me,” Vincent says. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Yves says, and Vincent laughs.)—and when she asked him out it had only felt like a natural progression, like something that had felt so right he had barely thought to question it. The worst part of all of it is that he would’ve been more than happy to give her the benefit of the doubt. He would’ve been ready to forgive her, to dismiss the entire incident as a decision she’d been too drunk to think clearly about, and move on from it. (To this admission, Vincent frowns in a manner which Yves thinks can only be disapproving, but he keeps his mouth shut.) But Erika left no room for doubt.

Then they discuss logistics: on New Year’s Eve, Yves will pick Vincent up at seven and drive them both to the party. They’ll tell everyone that they met at work and that they’ve been together since august. They’ll say that they’re keeping the relationship an open secret between themselves and their friends, so that it doesn’t complicate things unnecessarily at work. Yves won’t drink, in part because he’s driving and in part because drunk Yves can be a little too honest for his own good, but Vincent can. Yves cares about catching up with Margot. Yves does not care about catching up with Erika. There will be maybe thirty people there, and there will probably be fireworks. They’ll stay for dinner, but they can both leave before midnight if Vincent has family or friends he wants to call. 

All in all, by the time Yves goes home for winter break, it seems like things are all set to go smoothly.

That is, until he wakes up three days before the party with a twinge in his throat.

It’s nothing he can’t sleep off, he tells himself. He’s just tired—he’s been busy getting everyone gifts for Christmas and New Year’s and getting them delivered; having dinner with Leon, his younger brother, and Victoire, his younger sister; helping his neighbors set up their Christmas tree; running errands for the Miss Elodie, the old lady who lives across the street; helping Mikhail, his roommate from college, with moving in. He just needs a proper night’s rest, or maybe two. No need to text Vincent about it if this turns out to be nothing.

But the twinge in his throat turns into a terrible sore throat, which gets worse, not better, until it hurts to swallow anything aside from hot tea. He wakes up on the second day congested, with a tickle in his nose so intense that he has barely any warning before he’s jerking forward with a loud, miserable sneeze. 

He texts Margot first:

Y: think i’m coming down with a cold. do you still want me to go?

—to which she responds,

M: PLEASE COME 

M: (if you’re feeling up to it?)

Y: i feel fine

Y: just don’t want to pass it on if i’m contagious 🤧 

M: it’s about to be 2017, live a little

M: would rather have you here and catch your cold personally then have you skip

Y: haha okay, i’ll take some dayquil

Then he texts Vincent:

Y: i think i have a cold

Y: i’m sorry, i know it’s shitty timing. i totally get it if you’d rather not go w me

Y: just let me know

Vincent doesn’t respond immediately. Yves takes a seat on the couch, sets the tissue box down beside him, and tries to mentally prepare himself for showing up alone. On second thought, maybe he’ll have to drink, within reason, to get through the night. To put up a convincing enough act that he’s doing fine. To see Erika again—with Brendon, probably—and pretend he doesn’t miss her at all. To—

V: Do you need anything?

Yves blinks down at the screen. It’s not the response he expects.

Y: thanks for asking :) i’m good Y: just don’t want to get you sick

V: I’m not worried about that at all

V: I have a pretty good immune system

That seems like it could be true. Yves doesn’t think he’s ever seen Vincent take a sick day, much less show up to work looking anything less than healthy.

V: Just tell me if you’re not feeling up to it?

Y: okay

Y: i’m definitely going to go

Y: are you sure you’re okay w this? i would feel really bad if you caught my cold

V: Not going to happen. See you tomorrow at 7

Yves sets his phone down beside him, tilts his head back onto the couch, and shuts his eyes. They’re really doing this.

[ Part 2 ]

[haruhar-u]

I’m Tired Of Always Chasin’, Chasin’ After You

-1117 words

Xiyao modern au, hurt no comfort

AO3 upload

TWS: breakups, overall angst, cursing

A/N: they may be out of character as this is my first time writing for this fandom

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･

Lan Xichen was always slow to anger. He always had control over his temper. Whenever pissed, he always would remove himself from the situation; making sure to take a breath of fresh air. The only time he remembers actually losing it was at his brother’s husband but those two are happily married now and recently adopted a son. However, his boyfriend, Jin Guangyao, was close to pushing him over. He slept in his office instead of coming back to their shared apartment at night. The actions he took in his plot to climb the ranks at his company hurt everyone Jin Guangyao Yao was close to. His brother, father, mentor, and friends all cut ties with him. The only one who didn’t was Lan Xichen. 

Xichen wanted to give his A-Yao a chance, really he really did. However, the trust that was the glue between the two was weakening to the point where it might as well have fully dissolved into nothing. Was there really nothing between the two left? Xichen didn’t want to believe that. Surely the blossoms of his love for A-Yao were still in full bloom and hadn't withered and expired yet. 

He invited A-Yao out to their favourite cafe. It was where they had their first date and where A-Yao asked him out before that. It was a high tea place with exquisite china cups and teapots. On the platter placed in the middle of the table, there was an assortment of different cakes, macaroons, and other small baked goods. 

Xichen was surprised that this date could even happen. A-Yao was so concerned with his job that they had to reschedule multiple times because he worked too late or took on another project, pushing their date further and further back. Sometimes he even forgot to show up, leaving Xichen at the place alone. They were only able to go out today because Xichen quite literally chased after him to remind him. Xichen had this thought that occasionally popped into his mind. What if A-Yao didn’t give a fuck about their relationship anymore. Xichen knew this was an intrusive thought and tried to push it away. 

“What’s been keeping you busy?” Xichen asked him.

“I’ve received an anonymous letter detailing Qin Su.” A-Yao replied, cutting a piece of cake on his plate.

“A letter? About your assistant?”

“Former assistant, and no, not completely ” A-Yao corrected. Former? He fired her? A-Yao loved his assistant and would always sing praise about her over text, phone, and in person to Xichen. Why would he fire her?

“Not completely?” Xichen asks, confused. 

Complete and utter silence from A-Yao.

“Please answer me.”

“They threatened me. They told me that all my secrets would be released unless I fired A-su.” He muttered, avoiding eye contact with Xichen. “They wanted her fired because they felt I only hired her because of nepotism.” 

Xichen let out a sigh of disappointment. “A-Yao, what if they didn’t even have your secrets? Then, you just hurt your sister for nothing.” 

“Babe, I had no choice! What if they did know? Then what would I have done if they were released?”

“Did you want to fire her?” 

“No! Like I said, I didn't really have a choice. Maybe they were right, maybe it was nepotism.” 

“How could you not have a choice. She was your assistant, a part of your branch at work. Besides, if you felt it was nepotism, why would you hire her in the first place?” Xichen scolded 

“I-I was pressured into it by my father a few years ago.”

Xichen settled down. “I see.” 

“I was just scared this person would just reveal the fact that I got my father and brother fired just last year..” 

“You what?” 

A-Yao looks him dead in the eye, pleadingly his voice shaking. “I-I felt I had to. But, babe, you don’t have to worry. You know I’d never hurt you, right?” 

Xichen snaps at him, standing up and putting his hands down on the table, gaining attention from everyone else around. “You said you loved her. You say you love me, but how do I know that? How do I know you’re not just using me?! I just wish you’d thought things through before I you know, fell in love with you?” Fuck. Xichen can’t take that back. He does admit that he wanted to confront him about that. Not like that, though. He wanted to ask him about his worries, have A-Yao comfort him, and then tell him it’s okay and he won’t have to worry. Xichen fucked that up. That won’t ever happen. Especially considering Meng Yao’s reaction. His eyes widen, he mumbles something that looks somewhat like an apology, rummages through his wallet, leaves money to pay, and then he runs. Xichen felt he should chase after him and say he’s sorry, so he’s not the one who got away. But he can’t. He feels glued to his seat. 

After a while and a very concerned waiter who went by the name Wen Ning from his name tag asking if he’s okay, Xichen decides he’ll go home, apologize to Meng Yao, and maybe they can move past this like nothing happened? He leaves money to pay for his portion of the bill and spends what feels like forever on public transit. 

Once he unlocks the door, His apartment looks more desolate, as if something were missing. The grey colour palette looks more hostile. It reminded him of when he and A-Yao discussed painting the walls and agreed their landlord would have their heads. He walks into their bedroom when he finally notices it:All of A-Yao’s stuff is just gone, as if it were reduced to nothing by ashes. He found a note tied to a bouquet of hyacinths and rue...hyacinths and rue? Xichen wasn’t very well versed in flower language; that’s something he’d have to ask his brother-in-law about. He decided to read the note.

To my dearest Xichen,

I really cherished every moment we spent together. However, I realized I really treated you like shit. As if I didn’t give a fuck about you and as if I was only using you for protection against my father and for your status as a Lan. Towards the end of our relationship, I couldn’t give you what you deserved, and I didn’t communicate well enough with you. I want you to know I really give a fuck about you. I love you, and for that reason, I’m killing our relationship. Despite you telling me you’d die for me at one point, I feel you’re better off without me. I bid you well, my love. 

With regret,

Jin Guangyao

[silentexplosive-diary]

5/7

Hey. Just a quick little thing here to try and get me writing on here again, I guess.

So yesterday I was watching House, the medical drama series that I keep forgetting is a medical drama series. Then drama happens and I'm shocked and heartbroken because how dare they put drama in a drama.

Anyway, I was watching this episode that was basically about daddy issues as a subplot to the main plot of the episode, and this character said a line that instantly got me thinking. He said, "If you could hear one thing from your dad, what would you want him to say?" Or something along those lines.

House answers with, "You were right. What you did was right." I believe he worded it that way. And I fully paused the episode and I had to think for a minute.

My father was an addict who beat my mom and neglected me any chance he got. He bankrupted us before he left when I was three, and only kept in contact to ask for money from my mom when he was in trouble. I didn't realize this until I was twelve, and I was bitter and heartbroken over it until the day he died when I was fourteen.

Now, with close friends, I like to make jokes about having a literal deadbeat father. As I've gotten older, I've just accepted whatever happened isn't on me, and there's nothing I could've done about any of it at my age. There's plenty my dad could've done better, but he didn't, and so the consequences caught up to him. Simply put, that's it. There's not really any bitter feelings towards him anymore other than, "yeah he was an asshole and he died alone, what do you expect?"

But every so often I'm reminded of my own substance abuse issues and I go to my therapist with fears that I'm turning out just like my father did, which is the last thing I want. My therapist says I'm nowhere near doing the damage to myself that my father did to himself. They also say that I like to punish myself before I actually do anything, which I have to admit is true. I punish myself for simply thinking about doing something I shouldn't, which is a whole other thing to unpack at a later date.

But as this character asked this question, I tried to think of what my answer would be, naturally. I don't want to hear that he loves/loved me, it just sounds like a lie to me. I don't want to hear that he wishes he'd done better, wishes don't do anything for me. I don't want to hear that he's sorry, I just wouldn't believe him no matter what he said.

There's nothing he could possibly say that could satisfy or comfort me, and as soon as I realized that, it felt kind of freeing. It felt like I wasn't so worried about his existence in my life now that I realize there's nothing he can give me, not even words. There's truly nothing I want to hear from him, whereas I felt years ago that an apology might've done something. Maybe not fix things, but do something. It feels like ten years after his death, I've finally cut ties with him.

You have no idea how great it feels. Feels like I'm not as fucked up as I've imagined myself to be. Everybody who's ever even had a conversation with me knows I talk about my mom often and I love my mom, but I don't say a word about my dad unless someone asks. I know people know I just don't have a dad, and I'm fine with it. I've lived almost my entire life without him, it's not like he's something I miss. I'm used to his absence. I've even had people assume I'm a test tube baby and tell me that to my face since they only ever see me with my mom.

Anyway, it's a long-winded way of me saying I feel some closure now, which I don't think I've ever really felt before. And it feels good.

[lukemiller]

BASICS

name: lucas “luke” miller

age: thirty-six

gender: cis male

occupation: intellectual property lawyer

residential area: iron hill

time in heartsdale: returned for 1 month ( dec, 2022 )

sexual orientation: heterosexual

relationship status: married

children: unnamed son (5)

father: george miller, 66

mother: helena miller, 64

siblings: two younger siblings ( npc for now)

face claim: theo james

TRIGGER WARNINGS ; none? i don’t think ...

luke was born and raised in iron river, on a small farm on the outskirts of outpost. his parents were never wealthy, but they raised their kids in a healthy and loving environment. honestly, this part of his life is boring — he had a good childhood, his parents love each other and there’s no big, awful family secret.

anyway, he was a good kid and a good teenager. never got himself into too much trouble, focussed instead on playing soccer and studying in school. during this time he fell in love with a childhood friend, they became high school sweethearts and then separated in order to pursue their future career paths.

somehow, he ended up at yale. he doesn’t really understand how, it just happened and even today he kicks himself because........ how did farm boy end up in yale? it’s a thing. he did very well and moved to new york, beginning a career that would see him working for tech companies, artists and writers. 

it’s also here that he bumped into the old high school sweetheart. she too had been in college, then moved to the city and like it had never happened, they got back together. they had a really good, healthy relationship and planned their future, but made a promise to each other: they would never hold the other one back in their careers. 

luke proposed to her a year after they got back together and they remained engaged for seven years. during this time both of them excelled in their careers, they travelled, did great things together, stupid things together, but the most important thing was: they always loved each other. 

which is why, when they were both offered promotions that split them on opposite coasts, luke and her let each other go. they fulfilled their promises to each other, they split up and separated their lives entirely. initially they tried to stay in contact, but mutually they decided it was too hard to do that and eventually, cut all ties to focus on their careers.

WELL ..... that’s all well and good, but after moving to california, luke met another woman. they were very casual, but they worked. casual became dating, dating became exclusive and slowly, he learned that he could love another person. this woman would eventually fall pregnant and give birth to their son, who is now six years old. 

as was expected, they got married and have had all the troubles of any married couple. unfortunately the past couple of years have been difficult, they hit a rocky patch in their relationship and after her father passed away, they decided it was time for a fresh start and moved to iron river in 2022.

OTHER STUFF ;

luke and his wife (wanted connection - hence no solid name) have been in couples therapy for about a year, trying to build on their marriage and understand each other a little more. they bicker a lot, which leads to fights and while they always make up, it leaves a lot of questions about their future. 

turns out, his ex-fiancée is also back in iron river. he didn’t know this before coming back.

his wife knows about his prior engagement and the struggles he had coming out of that relationship. luke hasn’t ever kept that from her because it’s a big thing to keep a secret and my dude is a good guy.

lives for being the greatest dad alive. wants his son to look up to him, like he does with his own father. really, they’ve moved to iron river so that he can coach his son’s soccer team eventually. but also because his parents are getting on and his siblings have been keeping an eye on them for so long, it’s his turn.

luke is licensed to practice in georgia, new york, california and oregon. most of his clients are artists, writers and musicians. he’s also had some tech clients in the past, but he enjoys the perks of the more arty-based ones.

they have a cat. the cat does not like him. he does not like the cat. the cat is an inconvenience and if it wasn’t for his wife and son, the cat would have been re-homed already.

[lovergirlp]

The Triangle Chronicles

Spin of The Night: Memory Lane - Minnie Riperton

11:48 p.m. 12/15

One thing I can say about being in my early twenties is that, emotionally, it feels pretty unrewarding so far. I don’t know why, but I thought I would be in a fantasy… well I hate to say fantasy… but yeahhh, fantasy kind of love right now. I can honestly say that I’m stuck. Men are very unique, very difficult, sources of pleasure & yet I keep finding myself sorting delights into different boxes!

Tell me, is it selfish to desire deep emotional connection or “am I too young” still? Well I’ll tell you one thing, I think I’m out of time. I feel like I’m on a great path, I'm working on my career, I’m working on being a better mom, just working on getting my whole life together really. All the while, I keep finding myself in the position where I think I can change another’s reality.

⤁⤀⤀

“Love was the loneliest corner in the room. Everyone was afraid of the thorns that surrounded her flowers.”

⤁⤀⤀

I’m out of time because I’ve reserved it. I flirt, I date, and I can appreciate some genuine conversations about interesting worldly & otherworldly topics. The only issue is I seem to attach myself rather quickly, and it’s a bitch to let go. I’ve been out of a 3-year relationship for 6, almost 7 months now, and I can honestly say that I think I made a very hard, but good decision. So far in that time, my ex has found his way back into my life, oh and as an extra twist he is across a few states. Still, I dream of a future & most days he’s in it. With all of that I am also engrossed in an affair with a man that I know little of logically, but deeply of emotionally. What started off as a rebound from the heartbreak of my breakup from my daughter’s father, turned into an erotic, intuitively transformative, real-life, emotional-rollercoaster. However, that’s another story, for another time.

⤁⤀⤀

I met my ex (not my child's father), when I was around 16 years old, and we had a few sort of stable, unstable, iwasstrynamakesomebodyjealouswhodidntloveme, ass months! Then he moved away, so did I, we tried, but I messed it up. Fast forward a couple more years, I meet my child’s father & after pretty much no contact, I let it all go. So I thought. He congratulated me on my daughter on Snapchat, (which I was surprised, anxious, nervous and excited to see) and then nothing, for almost 2 years. Then, about a year ago we reconnected via social media & I can’t disconnect. The way he responds tells me he feels the same. Although, from day to day , it’s difficult to read his emotions, I imagine he feels the same way about me. Even with all that we have been through, this man has always been here. We’ll call him.. “Loverman.” Right now even though I am intertwined in a pretty tumultuous love affair with another man, we’ll call him “Max”, that has still never affected the love I have for Loverman, he’s never made love with my body, only my mind and yet I’m the most attached I’ve ever been to another man, to him, in this lifetime. He is the only man that has never asked for one thing from me, lover or friend, emotionally or physically, monetarily or of my time and yet I would give it all. Sex with Max is amazing and emotionally tied but my body is in a completely different space with LM. I don’t regret the steps that have made me the woman I am today, but I do regret how easily I disregarded the feelings of the men I love(d) over time. I can be so selfish, I’m finding my balance. 

⤁⤀⤀

I'm scared that our time will run out. At 23, almost 24 years old, I feel I’ve found an absolute love. Does Loverman feel the same? IDK, but the fact that we’ve both been holding on, and now we both find ourselves in a predicament where we are single and we can’t leave one another alone, it does make the mind wonder. He’s an older man so I like to think that he really doesn’t want to waste his time. All I know is that when the time comes, I’m going to get my love. I can’t wait any more, our love is the kind I would love to sit in front of a fire and tell our kids about. 

Best Regards,

LovergurlP ❣️

[bleakfated-a]

smol bio for new oc natalia sinclair 

       Natalia Sinclair was born to a long line of sirens that have ran the wealth and prosperity of Chicago since the city’s inception. A powerful female family, they own most of the manufacturing companies, primarily those of metals, plastics, and medical equipment. She was born in 1920 and quickly proved herself valuable to the line, ready to use her powers to continue to launch the family into continued prosperity. She has always been good at putting on a brave face and keeping things tautly civil between her family and the four other families of monsters that run Chicago. As it comes to humans, however, she has proven herself to be a little more reckless due to her intrigue.

          Don’t get it twisted, she loves the rush of watching humanity scramble to please her and often has to get pulled away from targeting bratty human socialites, which her family tries to target out of necessity to keep themselves among the top in the city but also to never draw any suspicion of hunters due to strange killings throughout any particular neighborhood or social circle. They are calculated in whom they target and often go outside of the city limits to continue expansion of their wealth and influence outside of the city to keep a stronger hold on the same within. Her family has paused reproduction at her grandmother’s behest due to having twenty powerful sirens and a couple of snuffed out liabilities in her lineage. Natalia herself has yet to have a child, but without a real childhood due to the nature of her species she really has no interest in being a mother. She does, however, have interest in genuine connection outside of her sporadic friendships with other supernaturals and her family ties. 

             This curiosity and yearning first got her in trouble with her grandmother in the 1940s as she had gained a control over her powers and witnessed human courtship and friendship practices from afar before trying to join in herself. She tried to have a committed relationship with a young man named Douglas, careful of her venom gland to not make him crazy with the need to please her. Despite her best efforts to keep her dirty little secret, her cousin saw her on a simple date with Doug and reported her to her grandmother. When she went to meet him one night for a late night rendezvous, she instead found him slain with her disappointed grandmother standing above his body.

              While heartbroken, or as close as a siren can truly get when not treating humans like playthings, this incident did not sever Natalia’s loyalty to her family. She played along with continued persona changes to keep up appearances of the family lineage evolving rather than staying stagnant as well as changing up her appearance in the public eye to avoid any doppelgänger rumors. The family rotates humans through fake marriages and quiet divorces to keep up the façade of whoever currently holds the face of the companies as well as general appearances, though Natalia has grown quite fond of her appearance change after the Douglas incident and has kept it as her primary visage all of these years.

            Despite the slight tension between the families of monsters, Natalia has never really seen the need to toe the line of enemies with them... as supporting each other would ultimately be beneficial due to differing powers and sheer numbers. As a result, she has a soft spot for Violet Duval, a werewolf, as a close friend and a few others from the various monster families in town. She is fiercely loyal to her family, but has still kept up more contact with humans than she has let on to her family. She is a powerful business woman as all are in the family to fully understand how to keep their companies afloat and is not afraid to use her powers to drive any potential competitors into madness. 

[specialagentsergio]

let you down

summary: After kissing Cat, Spencer tries to salvage his relationship.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: angst

content warnings: swearing, cheating, mentions of sex, mention of maeve

a/n: date night sucks and so does max so i wrote this instead

word count: .9k

song: let you down by nf

masterlist

Spencer can hear his own heartbeat as he climbs the stairs to the apartment of the girl he’s been seeing. The cellophane encasing the bouquet he’s carrying crinkles in his hand.

White tulips for forgiveness. Pink roses for affection. White orchids for sincerity.

In other words, a bouquet that says, “I fucked up, and I’m sorry.”

And fuck up he had. The look of betrayal and heartbreak on her face when the door swung open and she saw him kissing Cat has been in the forefront of his mind for days.

He straightens his collar in an effort to look as presentable as possible, then knocks on her door.

He seems to have taken her by surprise, because as soon as the door opens, she inhales sharply and looks away. “I thought you were the food I ordered,” she mutters.

“Oh. Sorry,” he replies just as quietly.

She doesn’t look good, he observes with a pang of guilt. She’s in her pajamas and her hair is tied back into a messy bun that looks liable to tumble down at any moment. And if her red-rimmed eyes and nose are anything to go by, she’s been crying. A lot.

She pulls the blanket around her shoulders in tighter. She still doesn’t look at him as she asks, “What are you doing here, Spencer?”

“Well, you… you weren’t answering my calls, so…” he trails off, sliding his free hand into his back pocket.

“A big fancy profiler like you couldn’t figure out what that meant?”

The bitterness in her voice makes him wince. “I understand that typically dodging phone calls and ignoring text messages means the person wants to be left alone, or even means the end of a relationship.” His voice cracks and he clears his throat before continuing. “But since what happened was a… unique situation, I really think we should talk about it.”

She finally looks at him and her expression is blank as she says, “And what exactly was unique about it, the part where you cheated on me, or the part where the woman you did it with is a serial killer who had my family kidnapped?”

Spencer is the one who can’t keep eye contact now. “When you put it like that…” he says sheepishly. “It… both, I guess? I wanted to talk about both, I mean. Oh, and these are for you.” He holds out the bouquet to her.

She doesn’t take them. “Well, unfortunately for you and that rather bizarre arrangement of flowers, I don’t have much to say.”

“Yeah, I know they look weird together,” he agrees. “But there’s a reason for each one, see? White tulips symbolize forgiveness, the white orchid means sincerity, and pink roses mean affection.”

“I prefer succulents,” she deadpans.

His shoulders slump. “Okay. Well, um… I just… I’m sorry, okay? For what happened. It was a complicated situation, and I should have done things differently.”

“Differently? Like not cheating on me by kissing her? But maybe that was a good thing, because that kiss told me all I needed to know about you!” she exclaims, her voice trembling slightly. “You can’t fake something like that. Sorry doesn’t cut it!”

“You’re right,” he admits, immediately. To argue would be more than foolish. She keeps going, and he lets her.

“You know, when I met you, after that first real date we had—you remember how we hit it off so good, I practically dragged you up here to my apartment. And after we slept together, I lay there next to you and I thought, this might finally be him. This could be the person I spend the rest of my life with. But clearly, you didn’t feel the same way at all!” She swipes away a rogue tear that he pretends not to notice.

“That’s not true,” he says quietly. “I don’t have sex with just anyone. I have to feel a connection first.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.” The blanket slides off her shoulders as she gestures around. “Because you obviously have a connection with that woman, and you sure as hell have never kissed me like you kissed her!”

“My… I hate to use the word relationship,” he sighs. “But, my relationship with Cat is… complicated, and hard to explain. That doesn’t mean I don’t like you, too.”

“I’m not interested in being your rebound girl, or—or your “get over it” girl,” she replies. “I’m not some pawn in that fucking… game the two of you play.”

Spencer reaches out to take her hand on instinct, but she leans back away from him. He lets her. “That’s not how I see you, I promise,” he says, trying to pour as much sincerity into his voice as he can.

“I don’t know if I can believe that,” she replies, and sniffles, looking down in an attempt to hide more tears. “You’ve already broken my trust once. I can’t build something with someone I don’t trust.”

Unexpectedly, Spencer thinks of Maeve. He trusted her. She didn’t quite trust him back. He’ll never forget how that ended. There’s no argument here that he can make in good conscious. Looking into her watery eyes, his feelings of guilt intensify.

“Well, I do care about you, even if you can’t believe it,” he says, voice gentle. “And I am genuinely, very sorry. So, if you find it in yourself to give me… us… a second chance… you have my number.”

She dries her eyes on her sleeve. “Just take your flowers and go,” she says quietly.

Spencer does what she asks, giving her a nod and keeping the flowers in hand. She shuts the door but he pauses before he leaves, an idea coming to mind. He gently places the bouquet on her doormat. Whatever happens to them is up to her.

---

Her neighbors don’t see any flowers in the morning.

-------

tell me what you think of my work here!

please do not ask for a part 2 for this. i left it ambiguous on purpose.

[teasty]

hold on tight || b.c (m)

"hi! can you write something about streetracer!chan x f reader where things got heated up 🥺🥺 i really like your works by the way, kiss yourself really is one of my jisung’s fav fic !!" - anon

a/n: holyashjdljzhldsa just the thought of streetracer!chan makes me... omg i don’t even KNOW, i'd actually go crazy... and omg tysm! that means so much to me :,( and you're gonna have to excuse me since there's so many things heated could mean i'm just gonna make it angsty and smutty,, also kinda went off for a fluffy ending because it's bang chan, the christiano bangnaldo, how can i not???

● pairing: bang chan x (fem) reader

● genre: a lil bit of fluff at the beginning | angst | smut (mdi!)

● warnings: chan acts like a dick but he really isn't | illegal gambling/street racing | established relationship | angry sex | (of course) car sex | hair pulling | degradation + praise | dom!chan, sub!reader | fighting :( | semi - public sex | profanity | suggestive dialogue | reader slaps chan once :( | unprotected sex (please be safe!) | choking | kind of a quickie???? | super happy ending because i'm sappy like that

● requested? yes!

● words: 8.7k

→ summary:

You’ve never known about your boyfriend’s secret and very illegal job, if you could even call it that.

"Shut up, buckle up and hold on tight 'cause it's gonna be one hell of a night for us, darling."

It’s a cold, rainy night. You’re waiting comfortably on the couch, sitting there wrapped up in one of Chan’s blankets, waiting ever so patiently for his return. He’s not usually out this late, neither did his job usually end this late. Your mind was getting the worst kinds of ideas as you held your phone in your hand, more worry than anger coming over you. You couldn’t be mad at him, really, you were just worried something happened to him, since he wasn’t picking up your calls or even looking at your texts.

It’s around midnight, and you swore you wouldn’t sleep until you watched Chan, in all his glory, walk through the front door of your guys’s shared apartment. You’ve been dating Chan for years, ever since high school. And, now, even after graduating college and finding a stable job and apartment, Chan still tended to keep things from you. It was a bad habit of his, yes, but you couldn’t really be too mad at him for it. Besides, you’ll be able to help him out of that habit. Once he comes back, at least.

To wait, you decided to watch a bit of television to let your mind wander from the thought of something bad happening to Chan. Of course, the subtle thought of him cheating crossed your mind a few times, but Chan’s only ever been the most loyal and dedicated boyfriend, even past his pretty hard shell. He acts pretty tough sometimes, but you know that he’s just a little bit insecure about himself on the inside. Which, to you, is completely normal. Everyone’s at least a little bit insecure. You couldn’t blame him for that.

Getting with Chan was actually very difficult at first. You both had a rocky start before you started dating, since Chan was kind of like the cliche popular bad boy, and you were the snarky book nerd. You both started off arguing and bickering about everything. But, when you both got closer and closer, you began to see a softer, kinder side to him. And, like magic, you two started dating. You don’t really remember how it happened. It might’ve been just Chan saying, “Wanna date me?” or something like that just ‘cause it’s simple. However, getting it past your parents about your relationship with Chan was the most difficult in the world. They did not approve of him whatsoever. Even today, they’re still cautious of him even though Chan’s already proven his loyalty to you and swore to your parents that he’d never lay an aggressive finger on you.

You’re parents didn’t really like him because of his choice of outfits and friends, which was a stupid way to judge somebody in your opinion. So, no matter how many times they tried to break things off or distance you from Chan, you two always found your way back to each other. Though it was fun, all the sneaking out at three in the morning, saying you’re going over to a friends house when you’re really going to go see Chan and all the late night calls in a hushed tone, you’re glad you can finally relax about it and live peacefully with Chan without the need to sneak around.

But, your mind hasn’t been so peaceful these last few hours. There’s still no sign of Chan and no opened messages. You gave up on calling him after the fifth call had gone unanswered, and just decided to wait. Clutching your phone to your chest in case he were to call or text. Your eyes switch between the screen and the front door (which led into the living room).

You nearly jumped out of your blanket when your phone started ringing obnoxiously loud. Your heart beat loudly as you scrambled to look at the caller’s I.D. And, thankfully, it’s Chan. You’ve never answered so quickly.

“Chan?” Your excited voice squeaked out when you brought the phone close to your ear, a bright smile etching over your lips. Just happy that he’s in contact with you.

“Hey, darling,” Chan’s voice was husky and tired, and a little deeper than you remember. He must be exhausted, and you wondered if he had to stay late at work, “I’m so sorry for being out late. I’ll be home soon.”

“Alright… Is everything okay? What were you doing out so late?” You ask carefully, wrapping the blanket tightly around you.

“Work. My boss had me work over time. I would have texted you, but I was pretty busy,” in the distance, you can hear the sound of his car’s engine. He must be driving pretty fast. Chan also has a really nice car he saved up for and worked really hard for. It’s a smaller, good looking and really, really fast car. You could recognize that engine anywhere.

“Oh… I’m sorry about that,” You respond after a moment.

“It’s alright. Nothing to worry too much over,” you can hear Chan’s smile even through the phone, “And, by the way, could you do something for me before I get home?”

“Sure.”

“Could you make me something small to eat? I didn’t have the chance to eat dinner at work. If you could do that, that’d be so great, baby.” Chan says, and you get up off of the couch. Already heading for the kitchen.

“I could make you some jjajangmyeon? We have all the ingredients,” you say, surfing through your pantry.

“That’d be great, (Y/N). Thank you,” Chan sighs through the phone, and you pull out the ingredients.

“Of course. When will you be home?” You ask before he could hang up.

“I’ll be home in the next ten to fifteen minutes, at the least.” He says, and you can hear the engine get a little bit louder behind him, “I have to focus on the road. I’ll be home soon. I love you, baby.”

“Love you, too, Chan.” You respond, and hang up. Now with the satisfaction and the relief of knowing Chan’s coming home, you separate the ingredients out and start cooking (thank god you took that home economics class back in high school. You couldn’t cook for shit before that). Since Jjajangmyeon is a pretty slow cooked dish, you try your best with temperature control to fit it into the timeframe for when Chan gets home, wanting it to be ready for him.

You had your hair tied back as you cooked, occasionally looking up to watch the television, which was still on the random news channel from before. It talked about things you weren’t too interested in, so you only kept it on for background noise.

You were so immersed in cooking, you didn’t even notice the door slamming open and closed and a pair of heavy footsteps walking up to the kitchen. You jumped when Chan’s arms wrapped around your waist, his chin planting itself on your shoulder. He laughs tiredly at your reaction, and you turn to give him a subtle glare, but your smile deceived you.

“Hey, baby. I’m sorry for coming home so late. I promise it wasn’t my intention,” Chan grumbles out, his words low and slightly slurred, mostly because he’s tired.

“It’s alright, don’t apologize,” you chuckle softly as you arrange two portions of the jjajangmyeon into two different bowls. Chan watches silently over your shoulder, “I’m just glad you’re home. You worried me. Please text me next time, before you stay overtime and don’t bother texting me. I worry a lot, you know?”

“I know, (Y/N). I know you worry too much for your own good,” Chan smiles softly, chuckling tiredly, “It’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”

You smile, flustered, and raise a warm hand to press against Chan’s cheek, turning your head to press a loving kiss to his temple, which is cold, even in the warm kitchen. “Dinner’s ready. Do you want to eat in bed?”

“Not if you’ll make me do the dishes directly afterwards,” Chan lets go of you to take his dish, and you take yours.

You cock a brow at him, “I was going to make you do them anyways. You’re not getting out of it that easily.” You giggle and tap his nose with the tip of your finger. “Come on. Take mine, too. I’ll shut everything down.” You hand your bowl to Chan, who takes it quickly as you scurry around, turning off the television. Turning off lights and putting the dishes in the sink.

Once Chan’s changed into more comfortable wear and you’re both comfortable in bed, watching some show on the TV while eating. Time at home was usually like this; relaxing. You’re cuddled up to Chan while he ate slowly. Once you both finished, you placed them on the nightstands for the time being.

Chan was asleep instantly. You were up a bit longer, still a bit run on adrenaline from worrying so much earlier, despite knowing you have to be up early for work. Chan didn’t have to work till the afternoon, but you had to be up early since you’re a librarian at the local public high school. Chan’s an assistant producer and works under a decently big entertainment company. It’s quite the drastic difference, but you being a pretty big book worm yourself, you decided it would be fun to be a librarian (mostly using your literature degree), even if it’s stressful at times. Chan’s work, however, is much more tedious than your own. Where you can usually go at your own pace, he has more strict deadlines and sometimes more difficult work.

So, you let Chan sleep on your stomach. His arms wrapped around you securely as his face nuzzled into the soft fabric of the oversized shirt you were wearing. You were up a bit longer, watching the TV while running your hands through Chan’s soft hair. Enjoying the moment for the time being before you, yourself, drifted off into a deep sleep.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You were the first one to wake up the next morning, per usual. You woke up to your alarm that Chan thankfully slept through. You got ready as quickly and quietly as you could. Since you work in a pretty professional environment, you wear something modest, but fits well with the fall weather and your fashion style. You wore a white long sleeved shirt and a pair of black slacks under a jacket with your university’s logo on it and a pair of sneakers. They weren’t too big on dress code for the teachers at the school, but the students still had to wear uniforms.

Before you left, you made Chan lunch for the day and yourself a lunch. You even bothered to wake him up briefly to give him a kiss goodbye and that you’ll be back early afternoon, although he’ll probably be at work, then. Chan, although three fourths asleep, gave you a tight hug and a kiss with a slurred ‘Love you’ before plopping back onto the bed and instantly falling back asleep.

Although Chan had quite the expensive car, he wasn’t quite fond of you driving it. You have your own car, and it’s fine. Mostly used to drive to and from work and nothing more, since most other things you were with Chan, so you both usually took his car. It’s not so much a matter of richer and poorer, his car just had more little trinkets and things that are just more convenient. You’re not completely sure what model his car is, all you know is that it’s expensive.

The school isn’t too far. It’s actually a ten minute drive from your apartment. You have to make it there pretty early, so the roads aren’t jam packed like they would be when Chan has to drive to work. So, you have a bit of an advantage there. When you get there, you’re met with the people in the front office, who bow respectfully to you, and you make your way to the library.

You set up at the large, round desk. You especially like being a librarian, because it’s quiet. You don’t think you’d do too well as a teacher, so you settled for a librarian since it was a good and easy way to use your literature degree and put it to good use, other than the fact you’re writing a novel, but that’s a whole other story (hehet).

It’s about half an hour before some students pile in, bidding you good morning and sitting down at the tables to study for whatever assignment or test they have, or to finish homework. Some of them go around to look at books, but most just sit by their lonesome and work on whatever while blasting profane music into their poor ears.

You were busying yourself going through overdue books, and emailing parents about student’s overdue books. You were immersed in your work, so you were somewhat shocked when someone tapped your shoulder. When you turned, you were met with the smiling face of your coworker. A middle aged, pretty woman named Jung Migyeong, who gave you the permission to call her ‘unnie’. She’s considerably your work - best friend. She’s the only person who really delved into conversation with you, unlike most of the other teachers who only talked to you about whatever book they’re class reading or for book suggestions (and you just choose the first book in the library that comes to mind).

“Oh, you scared me!” You giggle in a hushed tone, and Eunmi smiled brightly, her motherly aura giving you a sense of calmness.

“Sorry, sorry!” Eunmi sits on your desk, more leaning against it. Eunmi is really a pretty lady. Her hair is cut short to her shoulders, and she never wears makeup. Her natural tone is without blemishes or acne. She always wears pretty dresses to work, and she always carries around her purse for some odd reason. “I wanted to catch up with you. I didn’t realize you were so immersed in your work. I should’ve known, you’re more responsible than half the teachers here.”

“I try, I really do,” You respond, leaning back in the chair and smiling up at her, “Do you have a free period for the first hour?”

Eunmi nods, “Yes, I do. They switched it up just ‘cause of something wrong in the student's schedules. But, that’s past the point. How have things been going? In the home life?”

You shrug a shoulder, your smile dropping, “It’s… going. My boyfriend didn’t come home until, like, twelve - thirty last night. He said he had to stay late for work, but I don’t get it, Eunmi. He wouldn’t answer my calls or texts, and I don’t think his job prevents him from at least opening a text until he gets off, you know?”

“You said he’s a producer, right?” Eunmi asks, her head tilting down to look at you more clearly. You nod, “Well, he might’ve been busy with the idol. It’s pretty difficult work, I’m surprised he’s been able to keep up with it well.”

“Well, he came home hungry and tired,” you sigh again, “Which is weird because if he stays late he usually grabs something from the kitchen at the company building or fast food and eats it before he comes home. But, he was hungry… not super hungry, but I made him jjajangmyeon.”

"Jajangmyeon?" Eunmi’s head tilts, and one brow lifts and she scoffs, “That’s like a fifty minute dinner.”

“Not if you toy around with the temperatures, no,” you smile, and Eunmi shrugs a shoulder, “Eh, I was the one who suggested it to him. It’s one of his favorites, and he sounded exhausted and overworked so I though, you know, might as well. But, after eating, he was out like a light. You wouldn’t think that producing would make someone so tired.”

“You never know,” Eunmi reassures, “You seem to be really worried about this. You don’t think he’s cheating, do you?”

You quickly shake your head, “No, no! I know him, and I know that he would never do that to me. I think he’s just trying to hide something from me. I’m not mad at him, I just don’t want him to keep anything from me.”

“You’re not mad… yet!” Eunmi corrects, and your lips purse, “If he’s really hiding something from you, it must be pretty big. I would personally be surprised if you were able to keep your temper if you found out whatever it is he’s hiding. Cheating or not.”

You’ve never really been one to get extremely mad or even start arguments. As said before, you and Chan did have petty arguments back in high school, but since then, you’ve both matured. Chan always shut down a fight if you were getting too agitated, and you were usually never the first one to start up an argument, since your patience isn’t as thin as before. You will admit, though, you’d be decently upset if you found out Chan really was hiding something from you. You trust him so much, you thought there should’ve been nothing to hide.

“I suppose you’re right,” you lean your head against your hand, resting your elbow on the desk, “If there’s a good chance, I’ll talk to him about it tonight. If I want things to really work out with him, then there has to be complete trust and honesty with each other.”

“That’s the spirit,” Eunmi proudly says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with him, unnie,” you admit shamelessly, and Eunmi smiles wistfully, “I want to grow old with him. But I don’t want to live waking up every day at four in the morning and coming home to no one for hours on end. And, sometimes he won't come till midnight or morning.”

“Well, my husband and I used to have a lot of secrets, too. That we kept from each other,” Eunmi admits, reassuring you that you’re not the only one going through something like this, “The only way we were able to sort things through was by sitting down and talking to each other. Just telling all of our secrets to each other, even if they’re embarrassing or stupid. Just knowing the fact that we can trust each other with everything gives us that reassurance that we’re meant to be. Honesty is everything.”

You look down, thinking about the advice Eunmi had just given you, and you swallow down the growing lump of frustration in your throat, “Thank you for the advice, unnie. It means a lot to me.”

“Of course. I’m always free to talk, and you have my number if anything happens,” Eunmi smiles fondly, “And my doors are always open to you. I’ve spoken to my husband about you and he said that he’s always willing to keep our doors open. Just in case anything happens. You can’t be too careful, right?”

“Right,” you smile, flustered by Eunmi’s kindness, “Thank you so much. I’m… you’re right. If the worst of the worst happens and I’m booted out of my own apartment, then I’m at least glad to know that there’s some place I can go to that’s not three cities over.”

Eunmi laughs softly, and you laugh along with her, “I’m glad. Anyways, it’s about that time. I’m going to start heading back to my classroom. Let Chan know that I said hello, and that I wish you both well. Good luck, (Y/N).”

“Thanks, unnie. I’ll call you later,” you wave briefly as Eunmi makes her way out of the library, students bowing briefly to her as she passes.

You’re glad to have a friend like Eunmi. You’re lucky to have someone open their doors to you. Sometimes, you wonder if Eunmi views you as a younger sister, since she constantly rambles on and on about how she loves being called unnie or noona by her younger coworkers, even if she’s among the younger teachers. She’s like the sister you’ve never had. Sure, things had to be professional, but you’d like to spend more time with her out of the workplace. That would be fun.

The rest of the day is pretty slow. You had a few classes come in to pick up literature books, math books and to check out some books, but that was really it. You didn’t see Eunmi again, and left a few hours after the school closed. There was a bit of traffic on the way home, but it was mostly cleared up.

When you got home, you weren’t surprised to be met with an empty house. No sign of Chan, except the lunch you made him was gone, meaning he took it with him, thankfully, and he left a cute little note on a sticky note saying his thanks to you for making it for him. Which he usually did for you (you never bothered to throw them away. You actually kept them all in a little cigar box for safekeeping. Why? You didn’t know. You just felt like it.)

Like every day when you come home, you change into a pair of more comfortable clothing, which was just one of Chan’s hoodies you took out of his side of the closet, and a pair of ripped jeans. Since Chan didn’t do the dishes before he left, like you thought he would, you decided to do them to pass the time. In doing so, you turned on the TV for some background noise as you rolled up your sleeves to start scrubbing the dishes.

However, your attention was soon caught by the TV when the regular news anchor started talking about crime. At first, it was just about a robbery that took place in uptown, and that didn’t really suit your interest. What did catch your attention, enough to turn off the faucet and ignore the dishes to watch the TV, was when an all - too familiar black car with tinted windows and no license plate appeared on the screen, and there was a red car, too, but you didn’t recognize that one.

You turned up the volume, “Today, police are trying to look for these cars with no license plates caught on camera last night. They were suspected to be illegally street racing and gambling last night at around eleven o’ clock at night before being caught on security footage of a hotel nearby. If you can identify these cars, please contact the police immediately. One has been identified as a black Ferrari SF90 Stradale. The other has yet to be identified. If you see anything suspicious on the streets, please contact authorities. Here’s a clearer picture of both cars.”

And, that’s when it sparked you. One of the pictures of the black Ferrari was of the front. Despite the tinted window, you could clearly see a black ice Little Tree air freshener hanging from the mirror and a familiar hand gripping the wheel tightly. How could you recognize it? Despite the low quality, you can see a familiar ring on the middle finger. A celtic design Chan loved so much.

“Oh… my fucking god,” your mouth drops open as realization hits, and you immediately dash to the bedroom to yank open Chan’s dresser drawer, one left vacant for paperwork to “keep things safe”, and you pull out his insurance for his car. And, there it is, in plain sight. Ferrari SF90 Stradale. Color; black. Windows; tinted. At first, shock pools through you. Doubt climbing up. There’s no way Chan’s a criminal. There’s no way that he’s the one in the Ferrari. It has to be someone else.

But, there was only one way to find out. You had to be sure it was him.

So, you grabbed your purse and your keys and threw on a pair of slip - on vans. The sun was already setting, and you nearly forgot to lock up before running to your car. Barely unlocking it before you throw yourself into it, not even bothering to buckle your seatbelt before driving off to god knows where. Your gut leading you, immediately driving towards the area shown on the news. You pull out your phone, trusting the wheel in one hand as you pull up Chan’s profile and call him, pressing the phone to your ear.

The ringing carries on and on until the familiar voice of Chan speaks up, telling you that he’s not available and to leave a message after the beep.

“Oh, fuck off!” You scream at your phone before trying to call him again. Again and again it led to voicemail. Voicemail after voicemail. You couldn’t text him, not with you driving.

After the tenth call, you let out a frustrated yell, hitting your wheel with your palm and trying your best not to cry. You might be overreacting, since there’s a large chance that it isn’t Chan. But, for some reason, you believed it. You believed, at least somewhat, that it was Chan’s car. That it was Chan in the car. You didn’t want to believe it, but you did.

And your questions coursing through your mind were soon answered when you pulled up to the spot from the news, it now twilight, the sun just being set over the city’s horizon. You pulled onto an empty freeway, and parked in an alley between two buildings. There’s a group of people and a ton of expensive cars around the freeway. There were people crowded around a table. Some girls sat on top of cars, talking and laughing to each other while wearing vulgar and revealing clothes. Your brows furrow, deciding to stay low for a while. You turn off the engine to your car and watch carefully, gripping your phone in your hand. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, popping beer bottles, laughing and talking amongst themselves.

But, it’s when the sound of a loud engine came into earshot, and everyone, including you, turned to see the source of the sound. The moment the crowd of people see who it is, they start to cheer loudly. Throwing up their hands. However, your mouth falls open once more as the black Ferrari SF90 Stradale with tinted windows and a black ice Little Tree air freshener hanging from the rear - view mirror. It pulls up to the crowd, and they all part to make way for it.

Instead of shock or sadness, anger and rage begins to boil inside of you, and you grip your steering wheel tightly as you watch Chan, Christopher Bang, step out of the car. People pat his shoulder, and he smiles widely at them. Giving a few people hugs and even smiling to some of the women, who tried to steal a hug from him, too. He’s wearing clothes you don’t ever remember seeing. He wears a black leather jacket over a white button up and black skinny jeans. You’d be impressed by how good he looks if you weren’t so upset.

You didn’t even have to look at your phone as you pulled up Chan’s profile and called him, pressing the phone roughly to your ear.

“Pick up… Pick the fuck up,” you grumble under your breath as you watch Chan. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and looks at it briefly.

Not even hesitating to hang up.

As you heard the familiar sound of Chan’s sweet voice telling you he’s not available at the moment and to leave a message after the beep, you finally have enough courage to get out of your car. Slamming the door shut and making your way out of the alley. They’re not too far, but it's a long enough walk for you to catch the eye of some people. You don’t even pause to rethink your decisions when a girl taps the chest of one of the guys, who glares at you with a raised brow.

The man that glared at you stepped away from the crowd, and you could barely see Chan over the people. He walks over to you, and you stop when the man is right in front of you, peering down you. The smell of cheap beer oozing off of him.

“And who the fuck are you?”

“Chan’s girlfriend, now get the fuck out of my way,” you try to push past him, but he grabs you by the arm. Tightly, too. Probably tight enough to leave a bruise after a while. “Hey! Let go of me.”

“No can do, princess,” the man says, smirking mercilessly down at you, his grip not loosening one bit, “Whether or not you’re Chan’s bitch doesn’t matter to me. It’s either you leave or I take you home and we have a good time. Well, I will, at least.” So, you tried to yank your arm from his, trying your best not to use your free hand to punch him in the face.

“Where’s Chan? Bring him to me.” You demand, and the man scoffs, chuckling.

“Fine, have it your way,” the man turns his head towards the crowd, a few people watch, and he says, “Grab Chan. This chick says she’s his girlfriend.” A few of them laugh at him, thinking it’s a joke. But, you stand your ground, glaring through the crowd. One of the people that laughed pushed through a few people. It takes a minute, and there’s a tense silence between you and the man as you try to pry his hand off.

But, as you suspected, a smiling Chan pushes through, but his smile instantly drops when he sees you.

“Hey, Chan. This chick’s babbling on about being your girl. Should I kick-”

“Get your hands off her right now before I shoot you in the face.” Chan interrupts, anger lacing his dark, deep voice. The man holding your arm instantly lets go and steps away, his hands rising in defense. Mumbling something about just ‘trying to keep things safe’. Once the man is away, Chan walks up to you, now being the one tightly gripping your arms. Leaning down so his face is close to yours.

“Why are you here, (Y/N)? Why the hell are you here?” He asks harshly, his voice full of surprise and desperation. He even shakes you slightly.

“You seriously thought I wouldn’t find out?” You snap, ignoring his question all together, “You thought I was dumb enough to let this go under? Well, I’ve been dumb for too long, Christopher. I’m not going to be like that anymore.” You know he’s not too big a fan of being called by his real name, but you do it anyway.

“Go home (Y/N). I’ll explain everything to you afterwards.” Chan says, placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to turn you away.

“No!” You yell, pushing his arms off you, “I am not going home, Chan! I am staying with you. I need to know what the hell all of this is. Right. Now.” You demand, and Chan shakes his head.

“No. You’re going home, (Y/N),” Chan tries to push you away again, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly and trying to turn you from the curious crowd. However, you weren’t going to be let off so easily. You swiftly turned around, letting your flying hand come in contact with Chan’s cheek. Smacking him. You made sure not to backhand him, knowing how much that could hurt. Besides, you don’t want to hurt him too much, you just want to get your point across, and he wasn’t listening to your words. He lets go of you again, his head flinging to the side because of the impact.

“I said no. I’m staying here,” You repeat yourself, and Chan’s eyes no longer lace with aggression, but worry. He doesn’t seem upset that you hit him. In fact, he seems to gloss over it. “I need to know what’s going on-”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence until Chan grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into the crowd. They part to make way for him, and you aren’t able to muster out a sentence before Chan unlocked his car and shoves you forcefully into the passenger seat.

“Chan, what -”

“Shut up, buckle up and hold on tight ‘cause it’s gonna be one hell of a night for us, darling,” Chan snaps, and your lips clamp close at his harsh words. You didn’t expect that out of him. You could nearly cry right there. Chan backs away and slams the door shut, and you quickly scramble to put the seatbelt on as Chan yells something at the crowd, and they erupt in cheers. A few people scramble to get into different cars, and the rest stay back, keeping their distance. However, Chan didn’t seem too pleased as he walked around the car and into the passenger’s seat, locking the doors.

“Chan…”

“Quiet,” Chan snaps, revving the engine of the car. You can faintly hear the cheer of the onlookers behind as Chan pulls alongside the other three cars. A young woman wearing small shorts and an exposed shirt too small for fall walks ahead, and pulls a red cloth out of her back pocket. Her red lips smile bright as she lifts her red cloth. She holds up one finger, and Chan’s engine growls from behind, the car shaking along with it. Your hands go to grip the first thing, which is the cup holder in the center console and the door. Bracing yourself for what’s about to happen.

“Chan!”

“I said quiet!” Chan yells, sparing you a glance and your brows creased with worry as the woman holds up a second finger, and Chan’s hand grips the wheel as the other rests over the buttons.

She doesn’t hold up a third finger. Instead, she throws down the red cloth, and the moment she does so, Chan is off on the road. His foot slammed against the gas as he pushed his back against the seat and used one hand to effortlessly steer. You feel so impossibly scared in the car. A small part of you was debating whether or not you should have gone home, but you knew that it was the right decision to stay. To truly understand what’s been going on and what this is all about.

You try your best not to scream as the loud engine nearly bursts your eardrums.

“Chan… Chan, stop the car!” You scream, the need to vomit creeping up, even though you try to gulp it down.

“I can’t, (Y/N). I really can’t right now.” He says loudly over the engine.

“Please, Chan, just stop the car…!” You yell out again, and Chan finally glances at you, seeing your distressed look before his head snaps ahead again.

His hand swiftly reaches over to grip your thigh, as if trying to prove that you’re secure, “Calm down, (Y/N). You’ll be fine. We’re fine. I’m not stopping the car. Sorry, but I just can’t.”

“I should hate you for this, Chan!” You say, and you can see the way his knuckles turn white from gripping the wheel. “But I can’t… I just… Goddamn it, why!?”

“I can’t tell you that right now!” He yells back, looking over briefly before making a sharp turn, making you clutch onto the seat belt for protection, his hand now back over the buttons, “You just need to sit there until this is over, got it? I don’t care how scared you are, you’re gonna get through it like the strong woman you are, (Y/N), and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You look over to Chan, and his lips are downturned, his brows furrowed and his eyes glossed over, as if he could cry right there.

“But why didn’t you just tell me?! We wouldn’t be like this right now if you just told me, Chan, and that’s the truth.” You yell over the engine, and Chan bitterly and breathily chuckles, shaking his head as an angry smile casts over his lips.

“You wouldn’t have stayed with me if I told you, (Y/N), you know that.” His voice is a little softer. If any softer, you wouldn’t have heard him. “You would’ve left me.”

Your mouth falls open, and you shake your head, “Never… Never! Never, ever, accuse me of that. I would never leave you even if you killed a man, Chan, and that’s the truth!” He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look at you as he turns another sharp corner, and you can see the other cars following behind, closing in. He sees it, too, and he presses some buttons you didn’t bother reading and slams his foot on the gas again. You let out a deep breath, still clutching the seat belt, “I just want to know why, Chan. Why are you resulting to this even though you have a stable job at the entertainment company, I-... I just want you to be honest with me.”

“I’ll tell you later, (Y/N). Just sit tight and keep your mouth shut. I need to focus or we’ll fucking crash, you got it!” He yells, and you flinch at his harsh tone. Finally keeping quiet.

The race seems like it lasts forever, when it was probably only five minutes. With sharp twists and turns and screeching of the engine in wheels, it feels like torture. You hate this, but there’s no backing out yet.

Chan doesn’t utter a word. Only cursing at the other cars when they do something that they weren’t supposed to do, or somehow start catching up to him. You let a few tears slip as you watch his hands and Chan as he focuses solely on the road. The lump in your throat is growing bigger and bigger, and swallowing it down seems to get more and more difficult.

But, it’s over at some point. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and Chan finally slowed down after reaching a pathetic excuse of a finish line. Your trembling hands grip the hem of the hoodie you were wearing as Chan comes to a steady stop. People come cheering as the other three cars pull up behind, being careful not to bump into anyone from the crowd. You breath heavily, and look over to Chan, who rolls down his window, plastering a triumphant smile on his lips.

“I don’t even get why I race against you, mate. You always win. Just take the money and get outta here,” says one of the racers playfully, tossing Chan a briefcase through the window.

“Thanks man. Good race,” Chan says, “Now, I have business to attend to. If you’ll excuse me.”

He rolls up the window, and the man who handed Chan the briefcase smacks the window playfully as Chan rushes off, his smile instantly vanishing as he goes through backgrounds to try and get to a main road without drawing too much attention. Chan’s smile drops, and he hands you the briefcase.

“You want to know so badly? Open it and be careful. It’ll be hell to clean up if you drop it,” Chan grumbles, looking over as you look to him for reassurance. He only gives you a cocked brow as you look back to the case in your lap before unlocking it and opening it. Your jaw falls as you look at the thousands of bills stacked on top of each other, rubber bands holding equal stacks together, and you gawk at just how much money Chan won from one race.

After a minute of you staring at the money, Chan slams the case closed in your lap, locking it with one hand and tossing it in the backseat making you jump at how hasty he is.

You both sit there, Chan driving to god knows where in tense silence. You're holding your head in your hands as Chan shifted his gaze between you and the road.

It’s about fifteen minutes until you look up, surprised that he’s still driving and nowhere near home. It’s an emptier city, but Chan seems to know the area well.

“Chan, where are we?” You ask, but Chan gives no answer. Only driving a bit further before pulling into an alley between two old buildings. “Chan, I said -”

You were quickly by Chan yanking off his seatbelt and leaning over the center console to firmly grab your face and pull you into a rough kiss. It isn’t too rushed, but it’s not at all gentle. You’re caught by surprise at first, but couldn’t help melting into it. It’s almost instinct at this point to kiss him back, but you push him away after a moment. “What… What the fuck are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” Chan answers briefly before grabbing locks of your hair at the back of your head and pulling you into another kiss, his other hand creeping down to unbuckle your seatbelt, and you let it slam against the car as it flies off you.

“No, Chan… We need to talk,” You grumble out as you try to pull away, and he presses wet, sloppy kisses to the side of your mouth. His eyes are fluttered shut, and your’s are half lidded. You will admit, you love this. The kisses and how unnaturally aggressive Chan is being. But, you knew that you have to talk things out, or you’d never get to figure out how the hell things turned out like this, “Chan, I’m serious right now.”

“Then relax, baby,” Chan breathily whispers out, and your thighs squeeze together, “Let me make things up to you, okay? I’ll fuck you so good, baby.” He pulls away for a moment, and he stares at you with a teasing smirk, “Think of it as my apology, alright?”

“Chan, I’m… I’m - ah! Chan!” You gasp when Chan’s lips come in contact with the side of your neck. Your neck is already tilting to give him more room, despite trying pathetically to push him away. There’s no getting through to him anymore. You’ve passed the point of no return, and there’s not much you could get past him without slapping him again. And that didn’t seem like a very good idea to you. Your hand flies up to grip the back of his neck, the other loosely clutching the hem of his button up.

“You know that… ah… that we are going to talk about this at some point…” you groan out, and Chan only groans against your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. “You can’t get out of it like this…”

“Shut it, (Y/N),” Chan snaps, and your head falls back. Chan leans his seat back, aggressively grabbing you by the thighs to pull you over and sit on top of him. Straddling his waist despite it being such a tight environment. He pulls you down by the hoodie, into another kiss. You could feel how frustrated Chan is by the way he grips you tightly, as if you’re going to magically vanish, and by how he talks to you.

It’s rushed, too. Chan is impossibly quick to pull up your hoodie, his hot, sweaty hands creeping up your warm back, caressing it with a different, quick sense of gentleness. His lips connect with yours once again. His tongue already pressing against your lips. The quick, sloppy kiss all too lust filled. The erotic sounds coming from the both of you almost making you gloss over the fact that you should still be very mad at Chan. But, you just can’t find the need to pull away from him. You need to let off the steam, too.

You flush your body firm against him, one hand on his chest and the other by his head, holding onto the head of the seat for support. Breathing as slowly as you can through your nose to savor the air Chan so selfishly takes from you from the heated kiss. Your thoughts begin to vanish and your worry and concern for Chan’s life choices begin to falter for the time being. So immersed in the heated kiss to forget about it entirely. All your focus is now on Chan. You can tell how stressed he is, and the loving part of you wants to help him let off that steam. But, now, you’re in the same boat. So, he’s going to have to do so much for you as you’ve been doing for him.

Chan’s hands don’t bother to hesitate before they loop underneath your jeans, not caring to unbutton them as he tries his best to pull them off by himself. Because of how restricted you both are because of the size of the car, you had to do it yourself. You parted from the kiss and pressed your head against his shoulder to unbutton your jeans and pull them down as quickly as you could before throwing them in the back (along with your shoes and socks. You can already see how hard Chan’s gotten as his rough hands massage and knead your ass, only covered by the thin, black cloth keeping you at least somewhat covered. But, if this was like any other time, they’d be gone quicker than you’d imagine.

Your hands fly up again once your pants are thrown to the back, resting on either side of Chan’s head as he grips your hips, grinding your womanhood against his clothed hardon (you’re also clothed, but it’s so wet from your juices that it basically attaches itself to your skin). His head throws itself back, his eyes closing and a pleasure filled smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. You press yourself against him, now propped up to be looming over him, sitting on him.

When you do press against him, his head snaps forward again, and his dark eyes glare up at you, “Don’t start getting proud, (Y/N). I’m gonna fucking break you.” His hand crawls up to grip your face in his hand. One of your hands weakly comes up to grip his wrist. His hand moving down to grip your throat, and your lips part blissfully as his fingers press into the sides of your neck, still allowing airflow through you. “Oh, fuck. You like being choked, huh? You like being choked like a slut don’t you?” You don’t answer, too nervous to and too caught up in the pleasure to actually let something other than a moan escape your lips.

“Talk to me, (Y/N). Use your fucking words,” Chan growls, and you swallow. The lump in your throat pressing painfully, yet blissfully against Chan’s hand.

“Fuck me, Chris. Fuck me…” You utter out his name, and Chan’s brow raises. But, he smirks nonetheless and lets go of your neck, and you let out a breath as he undoes his jeans and pulls them down to his feet. His hand palming his clothed cock briefly before pulling it out. His hard dick already leaking with precum.

“Condom…” You mutter, and Chan shakes his head. You look up to him with worry.

“Trust me, baby,” he mutters, and you sigh, leaning against him, pressing your body against his as Chan moves your panties out of the way before he aligns your throbbing cunt with his dick, and slowly pushing himself into you, raw. As his raw cock slowly becomes engulfed by your heat, Chan lets out low groans. Your face nuzzles into the side of his neck as Chan slowly guides you down until you’re sitting on his cock.

At first, he stays there like that. Not moving. You suspect it’s because the sane part of him wants you to get used to the feeling of his cock so deep in you without a condom, but Chan seems to keep you there for a few moments just for the sake of how good it feels without a condom. The way his head is leaned back, his lips slightly ajar and his eyes fluttered shut.

But, it doesn’t last long before Chan’s strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you up and starts ramming into you. His hips move so quickly, yet so efficiently as he burns your wet walls. You erupt in a series of loud moans, mixtures of Chan’s name and curses spilling out, too. Chan groans sometimes, right next to your ear. The sound of skin slapping against the fabric of Chan’s boxers echoing through the air tight car.

Your pussy burns from how fast Chan thrusts into you, keeping you at a steady position so he could have an easier time ramming himself into you without the difficulty of it being such a confined and restrictive place in the car (especially in the driver’s seat). The burn is so good for you, though. It’s such a numbing, euphoric feeling that you’ll crave later. A type of burn you could never provide yourself, only Chan.

Chan’s hands go from gripping your body to sliding up your side to gripping your hair and yanking your head back so he could look at you. A judgemental, sexy smirk adorning his lips as he sees how fucked out you are. Your mouth open as you moan, and your half lidded eyes occasionally closing from the bliss.

“Fucking hell… you’re so good for me, (Y/N). You take my cock so fucking well, don’t you?” You let out a choked moan as Chan’s hand grips harder on your hair, craning your neck. “Mmm… Baby girl can’t even talk to me… I know I said to shut it…” he laughs darkly through his moans, and your moans get louder when Chan lets go of your hair, letting your face fall back onto his shoulder as his hands grip your ass. Kneading them as he fucks himself into you. You clench helplessly around his cock.

“Oh… fuck, you’re gonna cum, aren’t you? You wanna cum around my cock, baby girl?” You nod frantically, your climax climbing up as you push your body back to meet with Chan’s aggressive thrusts. Your overstimulated cunt only being destroyed by Chan’s cock as he thrusts harder into you, his hips staggering slightly as you clench around him. “Mmm! - Cum for me, baby. Cum for me.” Chan growls out as his hand grips your face again, forcing your head up as your eyes roll into the back of your head, a loud string of moans escaping your lips as you cum all over Chan’s cock, and he pulls out just quick enough to spurt out a string of cum along your ass.

He lets go of your face, and you breath heavily as you rest your head on Chan’s chest, closing your eyes to catch your breath. A burning sensation still resting in your core as you relax, your womanhood’s muscles contracting every now and then from the orgasm.

Chan cleans you both up with a napkin he had in the center console and helped you put your jeans back on (deciding to toss your soiled panties) and he slipped his jeans back on silently. It’s not until you’re sitting on his lap, resting your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat when he speaks.

“You know I love you so much, right?” Chan mumbles out, and you look up to him. “I was so mean to you today… when you must’ve been so confused.” His head falls back, and he looks out the window with a longing look in his eyes, “I’m the worst boyfriend in the world, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not. Don’t even think things like that. Yes, I am still a bit upset, but you know what? We’re going to get past this because I love you, too, Channie.” You stare at him with an adoring expression adorning your sparkling eyes (trying to ignore the burning in your core).

“You… You want to know the real reason I’m a street racer, (Y/N)? Why the fuck I'm doing this?” Chan asks softly, his hand stroking your hair.

“If you could… I’ve been asking all day,” you chuckle softly, and Chan smiles bitterly.

“Well… I… I’m doing this all for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“No job will pay for the things I want to give you, (Y/N).” He turns over, reaching into the center console to pull out a black box, and your eyes widen as he opens it. You can’t see it, but you can barely see the sparkle of a something reflective. “I… I couldn’t pay for this myself. I knew I couldn’t. I hate how this is how I’m asking you… but, (Y/N), will you-”

“Oh my god, yes!”

[darkmulti]

-> 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞

-> 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝.

-> 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

-> releasing this a bit early because we reached 4K+!! Thank you guys so much! I love you all<3

-> THIS PROFILE CONTAINS DUB-CON AND NON-CON THEMES! PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was a Saturday night — the busiest day of the week. You worked at the strip club, not as an exotic dancer but as a waiter. The money you were making was just enough for you to survive on your own.

Tonight, you wanted to ask your boss if you could start working as a dancer. You packed your new dancewear and everything you might need in case the boss says yes. It was around 4 pm when you arrived. You walked to your boss’s office and gently knocked on the door.

“Come in”

You grab the door handle and push the door open, revealing your boss Taehyung with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“Hello, little one. What can I help you with?”

You thought the nickname was creepy at first, and when you politely asked him to stop calling you that, he said that he had a nickname for every employee. Over time, you’ve grown used to it. And you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t give you butterflies in your stomach.

“I know this is sudden, but can I start dancing?”

Taehyung squeezed the glass cup tightly, almost shattering it with his bare hand.

“But why? You’re just a little angel. Angels don’t sin, little one.”

“Sir, I really need money. I want to go back to school and get a degree so I can have a permanent job.”

There was a pause of silence before you spoke up again.

“I-I can show you my skills. I’ve been practicing. I even brought my dancewear.”

Taehyung shoots you a glare. It was intense and almost threatening. He sighs as he puts the glass of whiskey on his desk and walks to the couch, where he sat down with his muscular thighs spread apart.

“Go wear your little outfit and come back here.”

You innerly smile and leave to the dressing room to change. Once the door closed, Taehyung let out a chuckle. He’s never going to allow you to be a dancer, he just wants to watch you for his pleasure.

After adjusting your straps and fixing up your hair, you sprayed some perfume around your neck and walk back to his office.

“Sir, I’m ready.”

“Good, now come in and lock the door.”

You did as told then remove your robe. It didn’t take long for Taehyung’s member to harden after seeing your body on full display. Taehyung turned some music on then said “the stage is all yours, little one.”

You’ve been practicing for months, just for this moment. Bending over and whipping your hair back, showing off your beautiful body to him. Taehyung motioned you to come to him, so you can give him a lap dance.

He placed his hands on your hips and made you grind on his bulge. Your face warmed up after feeling his boner that you caused. Taehyung started moving his hips with yours, making you whimper.

His hands moved to your breast and gave it a light squeeze. “Sir, I thought touching is not allowed.”

“I’m the boss. I make the rules. Right now, touching is allowed.” You were too naive to understand that he was manipulating you.

30 minutes pass and you finally stop and take a step back.

“So... what did you think?”

You were expecting a positive response and even a praise but you got the complete opposite.

“I’m sorry, little one. You’re not good enough. I can give you a raise but I’m not letting you become a dancer.”

“But what if I practice more? Could you reconsider?!”

“No is my final answer, little one. I’m a very busy man and I don’t have time to watch you dance just for you to fail.”

Embarrassed. You felt so embarrassed. You genuinely thought Taehyung was enjoying your show. Well, it sure as hell looked like it. A gloomy look took over your face and you walked towards the door to leave.

“Don’t give me that pouty face, little one.”

Taehyung abruptly pulled you on his lap and attached his lips to yours. You didn’t respond until Taehyung’s hand spanked your butt, causing you to moan.

“Grind on me, baby. I know you want it just as much as I do.”

You rubbed your clit harder against his bulge until you released. “Keep moving, little one. Help daddy cum too.” He growled, before grabbing your face and kissing you again. Deep moans left his mouth turning you on even more. His hands all over your body — it felt euphoric.

Taehyung let out one last groan before cumming in his pants. “Fuck! You’re so fucking good.” he kissed your jawline and moved down to your neck.

“How about this, little one. You become my personal dancer and I pay you money. You can stay with me, I’ll buy you everything you need as long as you accompany me and satisfy my sexual needs.”

“Like a sugar daddy?”

“Exactly”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Rules:

No dating

No lying

No revealing clothes

If something is wrong, tell him

No swearing

Don’t be bratty

Obey him

Never reject his kisses

Don’t leave without his permission

Answer his calls and texts immediately

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

How he’s like:

Taehyung’s a charming, gentleman

He treats you like a queen

He never ignores you

You’re his first priority

This man spoils the shit out of you

He buys you luxurious clothes and accessories

For your birthday, he bought you a brand new Porsche convertible

Taehyung’s very possessive, but you honestly don’t mind

You love spending time with him anyways

Anytime another male is too close to you, he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him

If you hug him, his hands will immediately go down to your ass and grab it

He’s very affectionate

Even at important events, Taehyung will always hug you, kiss your lips, cheeks and forehead in front of anyone

Sometimes you forget that you’re his sugar baby because he treats you like his wife

Your opinion matters to him

Whether it’s a big or small decision, he always wants to hear what you think

In the morning, he makes you breakfast

Especially if you had a long night with him (if ykyk)

When he’s doing work, he makes you sit on his lap and do some cock warming

Taehyung loves travelling with you

He’d rent out expensive villas or hotel room

Taehyung loves swimming with you

The man enjoys your company

You’re so lovable, sweet and innocent

It was almost like you were made for him

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Yandere Taehyung:

Taehyung was secretly obsessed with you

After he hired you as a waiter, he wanted to know everything about you

Since the job application required your address, Taehyung knew where you lived

He broke into your apartment and hid tiny cameras in places you’d never see

There were cameras in your kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathroom

He did this to keep an eye on you and make sure that you’re not seeing another man

When you’re at work, Taehyung stops by your apartment and takes some of your underwear to get off

He hacked into all your social media accounts, unfollowed guys he didn’t like and checked your dm’s regularly to make sure nobody was trying to get with you

If you made plans with your friends, Taehyung would show up (in disguise) and watch you from afar

Whenever you had plans or even a date, Taehyung would call you and say that more waiters are needed and he will pay extra because it’s an emergency

So you end up cancelling on your friends/date which angers them

Soon, your friends stopped inviting you to hang out because you always cancel last minute because of work

Taehyung’s plan was too isolated you from your friends which gives him the perfect opportunity to swoop in and be your one and only companion

And what do you know, his plan worked

Not only that but since you have no friends anymore, you’re always with him

So he never has to worry about you fooling around behind his back

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sex Life:

Taehyung was incredible in bed

He never failed to satisfy your sexual needs

You’ve both tried so many kinky things in bed and it was honestly fun

He was addicted to eating you out

Hickeys all over your body. Between your thighs, on your stomach and chest. All over your neck, collar bone and jawline.

Taehyung loves marking what’s his

Traditional rough sex + doggy

But hey, it gets the job done

Three round minimum, 7 rounds maximum

Taehyung will always cum inside of you

He loves watching himself cum into your little hole

He gets more turned on when watches cum his leaking out of your hole and running down your thigh

Dry humping is something he’s into

The idea of both of your coming without having actual sex drives him crazy

Blowjobs for days

He loves watching you suck him off

Make eye contact with him while you suck and he’ll have an orgasm

You must swallow all of his cum

Don’t spit it out

Before Taehyung got you, he used to use your underwear to masturbate

You eventually started to notice that a bunch of your panties disappeared

Therefore, Taehyung returned most of them (except for his favourites), some washed, some not

Taehyung could literally cum to the thought of you wearing panties covered in his dried-up cum

It made him hard just thinking about it

Over time, you notice Taehyung becoming more aggressive in bed

It would get so bad that you’d have to use the safe word to get him to stop

You noticed he started doing things he’s never discussed with you before

Sometimes, you cry under him because he scares you

He’d pin your hands above your head and fuck as hard as he could

You were not used to it nor were you a big fan of it

He was taking everything out on you

Taehyung would start at 21:30 and finish at 04:00

Unknowingly, Taehyung’s yandere side took over him

Some may know him as V

His cruel and sadistic side who felt no remorse whatsoever

V’s kinks are dark and heavy

He choked you until you couldn’t breathe, tied you up so you couldn’t move, and slapped you when you asked him to stop

V enjoyed watching you cry too

Overstimulation was the worst part

Your core was crying for a break but V couldn’t care less

The man fucked you until you passed out

Minimum 7 rounds, maximum... there’s no maximum

In the morning, he’d still be deep in you and depending on his mood, he may or may not fuck you again

At this point, you didn’t care if it was Taehyung or V, you needed to leave him

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Trying to break off the (3 years) contract:

This is when Taehyung goes fucking insane.

After nights of relentless sex, you finally decide to break the contract. You couldn’t handle the abuse anymore. Sex every night to “remind you of your place” was complete bullshit. You stayed with him for two more months, hoping that the old, sweet Taehyung would come back and save you.

Unfortunately, he never did. After you lost all hope, you wanted to get away from Taehyung as soon as possible. He can keep all the gifts and money he’s given you if that means freedom.

You woke up only to see Taehyung missing from the bed. He must’ve gone to work, you thought. You get ready and pack all of the clothes you brought to his mansion. You write a small message on a notepad, saying that it’s over. You didn’t dare to tell him face to face because you knew exactly where it would’ve lead to.

You left his mansion and took the bus back to your apartment. An hour later, Taehyung was blowing up your phone, spamming you with messages.

“Where the fuck are you?!”

“Answer my calls!”

“Explain the message on the notepad!”

“What do you mean that we’re “done” ?”

“The contract’s not over yet! I still fucking own you.”

“Get your ass over here!”

“You’re making your punishment worse for yourself.”

“How can you say goodbye to me like this?! Do I mean nothing to you?!”

“You’re going to regret this!”

“Come back here, now!”

“Stay where you are, I’m on my way!”

You started to tear up because you were petrified. You drop your phone in fear and ran into your closet. You hid in a basket full of your clothes so no one could see you. Not even a minute passed and Taehyung was banging on your apartment door.

“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, Y/N.”

You covered your mouth, stopping the sobs from coming out. You needed to find a weapon. You looked around your closet and that’s when you spotted something.

A camera.

A tiny camera is hidden in plain sight. Your heart dropped to your stomach. How long has that been there? Who placed it there? Your mind immediately went to Taehyung. You were trying to connect the dots but how could he have possibly gotten into your apartment?

You stopped questioning when you heard Taehyung break down the door. He came right to your bedroom and opened the closet door. He pulled out the basket you were hiding. “Get up.”

That’s when you knew the camera belonged to him. He knew your exact location. You couldn’t help but wonder how long he’s been watching you.

You take a deep breath in and stand up. Taehyung’s fierce eyes encountered your terrified ones. He grabbed your jaw and pulled your face close to his.

“What the fuck were you thinking?! You nearly gave me a heart attack! I thought one of my enemies kidnapped you but no! You just left me with a shitty ass note.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?!” Taehyung pinched the bridge of his nose. “SORRY?! THAT’S ALL YOU FUCKING GOT?!”

He picked up your glass jewelry box and threw it on the floor. The whole thing shattered, causing you to burst out in tears. “T- Taehyung! Stop! Stop it! You’re scaring me!”

“Good bitch. Seems like I haven’t scared you enough because you still have the nerve to fucking leave me.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Omg, I finally wrote something after months of being an unproductive piece of shit.

This is bad, but I still hope you enjoyed 😊

Oh and I apologize for any mistakes. Like always, I’m half asleep:)

xoxo,

naina❣️

[violettelueur]

— FUSHIGURO MEGUMI || GIVE YOU ALL MY FIRSTS

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of hickeys + light mention of sex + mention of religious connotation and grammar issues

↳ form : imagine

↳ published : 20 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 1.1k

↳ synopsis : it’s the night and after a long day, you finally have the opportunity to remove the makeup you have placed on your neck to reveal a few things that you wouldn’t want the world to know about...

↳ request : hi!!! Idk if you’ve done this one yet but can I request an imagine with Megumi where he wants to take it a step further into his relationship with his gf and decides to try giving her hickeys. Maybe at first it feels weird but the more he does it the more the gf gets used to it?

↳ barista’s notes : so i tried to do this imagine as like a teenage love experiencing different stages of a relationship/discovering their sexual side kind of imagine, but i’m not really sure if it came out like that ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please come again soon ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ

A soft moonlight was gently shining down through the windows of the sliding door in your dorm room, while another warm glow was coming from the white desk lamp you had brought during a shopping trip with Kugisaki since your old one was on the verge of breaking. However, even though the light was on, you weren’t sitting on your desk chair, reading, studying or even using your laptop to watch something interesting on Youtube or Netflix.

Currently, you had seated yourself on the wooden floor in the corner of your room near the same sliding door, sitting in front of an arch vintage antique mirror that you had amazingly discovered when you went thrift shopping one day by yourself and took the immediate decision to purchase it due to how beautiful it looked.

As your reflection depicted, you had tied your hair back while having a bottle of what seemed to be makeup remover in one hand while the other had a cotton pad where the removal liquid was being placed, before you gently placed the now damp pad on the side of your neck as you slowly wiped down to remove the unnoticeable concealer and foundation that you had applied earlier this morning.

As the product started to remove itself from your skin, there was a sudden reveal of a purplish bruise-like mark shown leading to a light rose blush to appear on your cheek the second your eyes made contact with it. 

From what you could recall, your boyfriend had randomly one day started to have a sudden fixation on your neck and began to start leaving a few kisses here and there at the beginning which was surprising since he wasn’t the physically affectionate type. However, one day when you and him were at his dorm room relishing in each other’s company, you unexpectantly felt a small bite on your neck that caused you to moan softly at the feeling before he looked at you in the eye as a way to convey something to you.

In the beginning, it somewhat gave you a weird sensation since you both never really explored further into your relationship, you both never had been sexually active with each other or anyone else as a matter of fact and like you had mentioned before, he was never the one to be physically affectionate with you. However, as time went on, you allowed him to continuously mark you since you were selfishly and greedily relishing the pleasure that it gave you.

You couldn��t deny yourself that the feeling it gave you was something that felt forbidden but too good to even let go of. Like a forbidden fruit some may say.

Maybe that’s why Eve was so enticed by it.

Suddenly, there was a quiet knock on your door causing you to instantly snap out of your daze before turning to look at the wooden door that was slowly starting to open. You weren’t worried about who was coming in since you had gotten a message from your boyfriend that he was coming to your room soon since you had invited him after the mission you both were on.

After a few seconds, Fushiguro was standing in the doorway with a soft smile - a smile that you were the only one to see - before closing the door behind him.

“Hey, you,” Fushiguro greeted, as he made his way towards you before taking a seat next to you on the floor, allowing the mirror in front of him to get a perfect view for him. 

Smiling back at him, you greeted him back before concentrating back on the remaining makeup that needed to be removed for the day causing Fushiguro to take a look at the markings that were slowly appearing again as the feeling of pride, as well as possessiveness, took over him slowly at the sight of your decorated neck.

Fushiguro couldn’t help but have a dilemma himself. He never had been intimate with someone romantically or sexually yet here you were right in front of him, someone that he really loves and cherished, someone who changed his perspective on the word and feeling ‘love’, someone who he wanted to give all his ‘firsts’ to.

His first lover.

His first girlfriend.

His first date.

His first kiss.

Now he wanted his first time to be with you.

Yet, he felt selfish for wanting you as bad as he did.

“Hey, are you alright?” you asked, leading Fushiguro to look at you with his emerald eyes before he slowly raises his hand and began to leisurely as well as gently trace the marks on your neck causing you to close your eyes and shiver at the feeling of his cold fingers touching your warm skin leading you to place your hand on his wrist as if you wanted him to keep his hands there.

“Do they hurt?” Fushiguro asked as he stayed put to which you answered by shaking your head as the blush that was at first pale now turned into fully bloomed Valentine’s Day roses as the colour of your cheeks have darkened.

“I….actually don’t mind them…...in fact, I really….like it….when...you give me them,” you quietly commented with a stutter, before turning away from your boyfriend to look down onto the ground in complete embarrassment since you didn’t have a single clue how or what to feel at this current moment in time.

Of course, you have read many novels and books that have displayed erotic scenes that told you how the characters felt but never once have you ever experienced the real mature feeling until now. You had to admit to anyone, no book or story could ever prepare you for the real thing no matter the multitude of what you read on paper or online. Nothing can prepare you for the real thing.

Suddenly, your felt Fushiguro’s hand pull away from the grasp of your wrist leading a wave of anxiety to enclose your body before you felt something warm coming from behind leading you to look up slowly, only from the mirror’s reflection to find Fushiguro sitting behind you as he moved your body to fit right between his legs as he then processed to wrap his arms around your shoulders as if to save you the wave that had consumed your earlier.

“You know,” Fushiguro began to state as he hooked his chin on your shoulder while looking eye to eye with you in the mirror. “I really like putting them on you,” Fushiguro bashfully confessed as he then processed to leave a light chaste kiss on the side of your neck causing the rose blush on your cheeks to deepen more if it could.

“I really want to give you all my firsts,” Fushiguro commented, leading you to look at his reflection with widened eyes before a soft smile slowly made its way to your face.

“I want to give you all my firsts as well Mimi”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[the-bau-quinjet]

I've Always Loved the Rain

Summary: Request! Y/N can manipulate the weather, but sometimes her emotions get the best of her. What happens when Bucky brings his girlfriend to Tony's garden party?

Warnings: nothing except some angst!

Word Count: 2086

a/n: I really did have fun writing this! Thank you for sending it my way :)

Masterlist

"Are you ever going to tell him?" Wanda's thoughts appeared in your head causing your head to snap in her direction. "You've been staring at him for the past ten minutes."

"Actually, it's only been 8 minutes. And, no. I do not plan to ever tell him because that would be wildly embarrassing, and he would hate me forever." Your own thoughts were easily heard by the witch.

Before she could try to convince you, you got up and left the living room. You and Bucky have been friends since you joined the team. Everyone, barring Bucky, has told you how you must be special because Bucky has never trusted anyone as quickly as he started trusting you.

There may have even been a point where you thought he could've possibly returned your feelings, but that was before he started dating Perrie.

"Y/N, you can't keep running away from me." Wanda called out as she approached your room.

"I'm not running. I just have get ready for Tony's party." You rolled your eyes. You've never been one for parties, but you'd rather just go than have to deal with Tony complaining about you missing it.

"Oh, you mean the party Perrie is going to?" Wanda questioned from your doorway.

"Shut up! Someone could hear you." You quickly pulled her into the room, glancing down the hall before closing the door. "I don't care that she's coming. It's fine."

"I know you're pouting, even if you refuse to look at me." Wanda obviously saw right through your bullshit.

"Wan, he's my friend. I just want him to be happy, and if Perrie makes him happy then so be it." You resigned yourself to having to watch Bucky and Perrie together. "Just, promise me you won't say anything."

You nearly begged her, knowing she didn't agree with your method of bottling everything up.

"You're my friend. I want you to be happy too." She tried to avoid your request.

"Wanda, please." You nearly had tears in your eyes. You couldn't make it through this party if Bucky knew about your feelings. "I can't think about it. Tony will kill me if I ruin his perfect weather."

You joined the Avengers after Steve and Nat found you during one of their missions. You saw the two of them trying to sneak into a hydra base, but they had no way of approaching without being spotted.

In a moment of bravery, or stupidity really it could've gone either way, you ran up to them and offered to help. You managed to create enough of a storm that they could get inside without being noticed.

When they came back out, they offered for you to join them figuring someone who could manipulate the weather would be a good teammate to have.

"Oh, Y/N." She pulled you into a hug in an effort to comfort you. "I won't bring it up, I promise." She squeezed you tightly before letting go. "Now, let's pick out an outfit that'll have Barnes regretting not asking you out."

You shook your head at her playful laugh, but agreed with her nonetheless. If this is what it took for her to stay quiet, you'd do it.

-

The sun was still high in the sky when you made it out to join the party. Summer nights always seemed to last forever, the sun not fully setting until nearly 9.

A few clouds dusted the sky, but Tony really did have the perfect weather for his garden party.

You looked around, trying to locate a familiar face. Finally spotting Nat and Wanda, you made your way through the gardens to greet them.

"Y/N, you look incredible!" Nat cheered as you approached.

Wanda convinced you to wear a pale purple two piece set. The classy lace outer layer of your skirt fell to mid calf, the lining ending just above your knee. The top was cropped to end mid stomach. Perfectly matching the skirt, a form fitting lining was covered in a flowy lace layer.

"Thank you. You both look amazing, as usual." Nat wore a black midi dress with a slit. Wanda opted for a flowery yellow dress with buttons up the middle.

You fell into an easy conversation, discussing anything and everything you could think of to keep your mind busy.

"Ladies, looking good!" Sam complimented the three of you as he, Steve, and Vision approached. Vision immediately swept Wanda away to dance.

"You're not so bad yourself, Wilson." You laughed. "Steve, you're very dapper this evening."

"Thank you. Care to dance?" Steve held his hand out for you. Knowing Sam was seconds away from convincing Nat to dance with him, you nodded in agreement.

You couldn't help but smile as he lead you around the dance floor Tony had set up. The party had been going surprisingly well so far.

"You really do look amazing tonight." Steve broke the silence, smiling down at you.

"You're too sweet." You brushed it off, looking over his shoulder as you blushed.

"I mean it." He spun you around, eliciting a surprised chuckle from you.

Your smile fell when you spotted Bucky and Perrie by the bar. He wore khakis and a pink button up, something you were certain Perrie picked out to match her pink chiffon dress.

You were shocked to find his eyes on you. He looked sort of angry, but you hadn't the slightest idea why.

"I don't know what Bucky's doing with her." Steve followed your line of sight, commenting on the couple.

"He's happy." You turned away from Bucky, heart aching just from looking at the two of them together. You tried to mask the pain in your voice, but Steve saw through it.

"He's not. He might think he is, but Perrie... she's not right for him."

"What do you mean?" You shouldn't have asked, but you craved more information about Bucky.

"She just doesn't understand him. Not like you do." Steve's words hurt you more than they helped.

"Steve, he chose her." You could feel the tears brewing. You didn't notice as the sky got darker and darker. "I have to go."

You turned to walk away from Steve and the conversation only to walk directly into Perrie.

"I'm so sorry!' You quickly wiped your eyes, avoiding the concerned look Bucky was giving you. He lightly grabbed your elbow when you tried to walk past them

"Y/N?" The way he said your name had you frozen. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I, um, I have to go." You pulled your arm from his grasp, again trying to get away.

"No, Y/N-" Bucky's plea for you to talk to him was cut off by Perrie.

"James, we're supposed to be dancing." She whined, pulling on his right arm.

"It's fine, Bucky." Your face contorted into a tight smile. "Dance with your girlfriend." Your vision blurred as you tried to push your way through the crowd.

Nat found you first, pulling you off to the side of the party and gesturing for Wanda to join you both.

"Y/N, what happened?" Natasha tried to coax any bit of information out of you. You ignored the question, focusing instead on trying to control your tears.

Your powers, although you could mostly control them, were tied to your emotions. If what you were feeling manifested itself in the weather, it was almost impossible for you to regain control.

One tear finally fell from your eyes, a matching raindrop falling from the sky.

"Y/N? Why don't we go inside?" You managed a nod, breaths coming out shaky as you tried not to completely lose control.

You were only a few steps from the main entrance to the gardens when everything fell apart.

"Y/N?" Bucky called from a few feet behind you.

Just the sound of his voice caused the delicate balance you had achieved to shatter.

Your tears overflowed, thunder cracking in the sky. The thought of ruining Tony's part only made you cry harder.

The rain fell fast and heavy instantly soaking everyone outside. You stayed frozen, listening as everyone shrieked and ran to get out of the rain.

"You guys should go inside." You spoke softly to Nat and Wanda, gesturing for them to go without you.

"Are you sure?" Nat looked past you at Bucky before meeting your eyes again.

You nodded. "I mean, I'm already soaked." The rain continued to fall mixing with the tears on your cheeks.

They each gave you a quick hug before running to get inside.

"Y/N?" Bucky called again when you still hadn't turned around.

You took a deep breath trying to prepare for this conversation before you turned to face him. He was soaked, his hair sticking to his face despite his efforts to push it off.

"I'm sorry." You whispered so softly, you weren't even sure he could hear it over the rain.

"Don't do that." Bucky shook his head.

"What?" You scrunched your face in confusion.

"Apologize for your feelings." He spoke gently as he walked up to you.

You huffed a laugh. "Well, I was more so apologizing for the rain."

"I've always loved the rain." He shrugged, turning his head up to the sky. He stayed like that for a minute just letting the rain wash over him.

"I think I've always loved you." More tears fell as you admitted the truth. You closed your eyes in an effort to hide from his reaction.

"Y/N, look at me." Bucky pleaded, but you squeezed your eyes shut tighter and shook your head.

"Y/N, please." His hand came up to rest on your cheek, the other resting on your waist. He ran his thumb back and forth over your cheek coaxing you to open your eyes.

Your eyes fluttered open despite your best efforts to keep them closed. You had to blink a few times to clear the raindrops from your eyelashes.

"I love you too."

You searched his eyes for any signs that he was lying, but all you could find was sincerity.

"What about Perrie?" You couldn't help but ask, even if you'd rather forget about her entirely.

"I broke up with her the second she whined about me trying to make sure you were okay."

"You broke up with her because of me?" Your mouth fell open, eyes trained on Bucky's. He nodded sheepishly, but maintained eye contact.

"You're the most important person in the world to me. I probably should've realized what that meant sooner." He looked down, a pink tint blossoming on his cheeks. "She was actually the one who pointed out to me that I'm in love with you..."

"She said that?" Your jaw dropped even farther.

"Yeah. It was really Steve agreeing with her that clued me in though."

"You really love me?" You felt the need to verify what you had already heard. The rain lessening to a slight drizzle went unnoticed by both of you.

"I really, really do." He still held your face in his hand, now leaning his forehead against your own.

"Say it again." You whispered.

"I love you." He said the words quietly, but the meaning behind them was deafening.

"I love you too."

Your lips collided in a passionate kiss, years of hidden emotion coming out.

The rain clouds disappeared entirely, the sun set now visible in bright shades of pink and orange.

You finally pulled back when the need for air overcame your need for Bucky.

Your smile faded slightly, eyes showing a slight fear. Bucky noticed immediately, his own nerves growing.

"What's wrong?"

You gestured to the now empty gardens.

Aside from everything being soaked, the wind did a number on the decorations. Tables and chairs were overturned, plates and glasses smashed on the ground. The lanterns that had been hung were now strew across the ground in various states of destruction.

"Tony's going to be so mad at me!"

"He'll forgive you." Bucky stated with confidence.

"How can you be so sure?" You eyed him with furrowed brows, still nervous about facing Tony.

"He's forgiven worse, Doll. Trust me." Bucky eagerly awaited the moment you understood what he was saying.

Your eyes went wide, mind blanking on how to respond. That is, until Bucky smiled brightly at you.

"You've always told me joking about it can help. Figured I'd give it a try."

The two of you burst out laughing before slowly making your way inside, hand in hand and soaking wet.

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@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @madewithsebstan

[youryanderedaddy]

Best Friends Forever

 Summary: Your best friend finally has you back after all these years, tied up on his bed and ready to learn your lesson.

Tw: nsfw, non-con, slight mention of blood, threats, choking, slight degradation, dirty talk, cursing, infantilization, possessive behavior, patronizing behavior, overuse of petnames, slight dom vibezz 

You knew your boyfriend was a lost cause, an addict so gone he would have done anything for a fix, but you never expected him to stoop so fucking low. 

 You had woken up in a suspiciously familiar place, laying on sheets oh so soft, puffy and white you simply couldn’t mistake the bed you were on. The walls were painted in black and blue, a combination so deeply engraved in your mind you couldn’t shake off the feeling you weren’t trully conscious, but dreaming of a happy yet distant memory of the past. It took you less than a second to realize you were in his room - the one where you had spent so many joyfull sleepless nights back in your youth. The relief was short - lived, though, because the moment you tried to move around, you became aware of the tight rope keeping your sore limbs tied to the wooden bed frame. After a while of twisting and thrashing around while screaming at the top of your lungs for help you finally heard the door open. You hoped you would at last be able to go home now, still desperate to believe this was merely a prank, a way for your junkie of a boyfriend to scare you into giving him money.

 “There is no use trying to escape the bonds, my little love.” His voice emited through the small room, low, smooth as butter and softer than ever. You tried to lift your head and catch a glipse of the person talking, just to make sure you weren’t imagining things or going insane. And there he was in all his glory, the boy, no, the man you knew well looking so different from how you remembered him, but still it felt impossible not to see the many similarities - from the unruly dark curls to the warm gray eyes that used to be your only guide during times of misery and pain. This was none other than your childhood best friend and you had absolutely no idea why you were tied to his bed. “Oliver, why on earth am I here?” You asked as soon as the initial shock had worn off, completely forgetting to address the weird petname the student had called you.

 He smirked slightly before crossing the distance keeping him away from you, and carefully sat down by your left side. He reached out to stroke your cheek in an affectionate way, his fingers lingering for a moment too long for it to be considered a mere platonic gesture. You tried to turn your head away from the warm touch since it made you feel uncomfortable and left you with so many new questions. “I missed you so much, precious.” Oliver took a deep breath and smiled at you, gently moving your jawline so you had no choice but to face him once again. “I was so happy when that disgusting piece of shit you call a boyfriend offered you to me.” The man bent to your shoulder-level and whispered in your ear, his tone so full of sick satisfaction you could swear there was honey dripping from his mouth. “I paid a lot of money to have you back, sweetheart.” He licked his lips in an obscene, suggestive way and you had to supress the sudden urge to vomit as you finally remembered exaclty why you had stopped contacting your best friend once you had started college. The boy used to be clingy, obsessive even, but you could have never guessed it was that bad.

 “Oliver, please untie me, you are scaring me.” You pleaded in a tiny voice, hoping to summon what was left of the goodness he had tucked away deep in his heart. In response the male only chuckled and shook his head as he placed a small kiss against your neck, causing you to shiver in discomfort and disgust while you were mentally debating whether you wanted to kill him or your ex boyfriend first. Soon your spiteful thoughts were replaced by panic when your captor brought his hand to your t-shirt and started unclasping the small buttons one by one. You couldn’t help but turn red from embarassment the moment you felt your nipples harden under his palm and you became painfully aware you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. Your former friend had your tender breasts exposed to the cold air in a matter of seconds, his terrible fingers already pinching and pulling at the erect tips. “You have such pretty tits, darling.” He said huskily while squeezing your boobs, licking and biting the stretched skin. You hissed in pain and squirmed in a desperate attempt to move away but the rope was holding you in place, tightening around your sore injured wrists even more. 

 “I have wanted you for so long, angel.” The student admitted quietly, his stormy eyes fixed on yours, his stare so intense it could burn a hole through you. “Tonight I will make you mine.” Oliver declared with a clear sense of confidence and claimed your lips in a quick rough manner, muffling your pitiful whimpers like a man starved and hungry for flesh. The forced kiss and his deranged words made your stomach turn but something in his longing gaze told you there was a lot more in store. The guess, much to your horror, was soon confirmed when the dark - haired male reached down between your parted legs and easily slipped your panties down to your ankles. With your last bit of protection gone you felt awfully vulnerable, literally naked in front of the beast too keen on the past to see how much he was hurting you right now, in the present. You wanted to scream the second his fat grabby fingers pried your folds open, but choking on your desperate sobs proved easier at that moment.

 “Aww, don’t cry, angel.” Oliver growled playfully and slid his index into your tight entrance, quickly adding a second one before you had the time to adjust properly. “I have to prepare you, baby, otherwise my cock may just tear you apart.” He remarked in low sickening voice, the excuse too crude and vulgar to be an act of caring. You whined as your walls clenched down tight now that there were three fingers stretching your hole, and you berely managed to utter “too full” before your friend pulled you for a deep kiss again, his tongue devouring your mouth, leaving you breathless and queit while sucking in the sweet pained moans. “You can take it, babygirl.” The man groaned against your swollen red lips and grabbed your hips in a strong hold - you were sure there would be purple bruises there tomorrow.

  Eventually, after half an hour of pushing his fingers in and out of your channel, lapping at your neck and leaving wet love marks all over your collarbone, the student was satisfied with his work. He had turned you into a whimpering mess and was ready to thoroughly enjoy the fruits of his labor, whether you liked it or not. “I am going to put it in now, precious.” Oliver pecked you on the cheek just to lick the salty trace of tears off your puffy skin. “I will force my whole length in your perfect little pussy.” Your captor bit your sensitive earlobe and you broke down in tears like a kid, the threat ringing in your ears like the gospel. “This might hurt a bit so I advise you to stay still and relax, baby.” The way the man continued casually, almost cheerfully, as if he wasn’t about to brutally rape you, made your skin crawl, but there was nothing you could do. You were all tied up, powerless to stop him. Suddenly, without any warning, his hard thick member entered you, piercing pain spreading through your whole body. The student panted in pleasure as soon as he thrust his manhood into your heat, the way it sucked him in leaving him high and blissful. You let a few miserable whimpers, the ache too much to bear, his moves too harsh, sudden and deep. 

  “Don’t give me such a-agh tormented expression, my love.” Oliver quickly shushed you by putting his hand over your mouth and pressing down to prevent any noise that might have escaped. His gaze was lustful, insane, but also loving in a twisted, perverse way. “Fuck, I love you so much.” He muttered, his voice gentle for a split second before going back to being taunting and mocking. “I used to be so angry each and every time you dated another guy, another asshole who was only after your body.” The man was rambling now, his face turning red at his own vicious thoughts, his growing anger reflecting in his cloudy pupils and his painful thrusts. “You always chose them over me like a stupid little bitch ...” He whispered dangerously and lifted your body towards his own so you could take his hits even deeper, so deep that you could feel the tip of his member kissing your cervix. “Well, now you don’t have a choice, angel. I have claimed you and I will keep you here forever.” You were crying out in agony, your pussy clamping down around the enormous length slapping again and again against your core. It burned so bad you wished you could dissapear somewhere far away just so you could have a moment of relief. “Oh, sweetheart, I know it hurts, but it’s almost over, you can take it for me, right?” The male cooed at you, switching back to that disgusting, infantilizing baby voice you had already grown to despise. When you failed to respond he gripped your throat, squeezing so tightly blood rushed to your cheeks and you inhaled sharply though your mouth only to feel the suffocation cut your breath short. “Answer me.” He barked through gritted teeth and you nodded frantically, desperate to gasp for air and cling onto dear life. 

 “Good girl.” Your former friend purred, pleased with your obedience, and let go of your neck, grabbing your hips instead. You coughed and drooled pathetically until you managed to resume your breathing, but the man, still buried deep inside you, seemed too caught up in chasing his own pleasure to notice how badly he had hurt you. Fortunately for you Oliver was really close, that much was obvious by his furious shoves at your abused cervix and his low growls each time he lowered his head to kiss you. Soon he came with a loud moan, painting your walls white, your ruined hole dripping with his seed and your blood. 

 Your captor seemed satisfied afterwards, peaceful in a way - there was a small smile adorining his cold lips as he wiped the tears off your face and squished your bruised body against his strong frame in a tight hug. You bit your tongue to stop the tears from overflowing once again, but to no avail. He let you sob in his arms until there wasn’t liquid left in your red, puffy eyes. 

 “You did very well, my love. I am really proud of you.” Oliver kissed your temple gently, resisting the temptation to graze you all over again with his lips, tongue and fingers. “I will help you clean up, then I will fix you some nice dinner.” He murmured in your ear, tickling the heirs on the back of your neck with his warm breath. “Doesn’t this sound good, baby?”

 You closed your eyes and nodded slowly.