#I RECOGNIZE THAT LANYARD ….

[roki-roki-roll]

Diversity win! The museum staff is nonbinary!

[daftpatience]

check out all my boys

[pastafossa]

CON BADGE: ACQUIRED

I AM NOW LESS THAN 2 WEEKS FROM MEETING CHARLIE COX AT THE PHILLY FANEXPO

THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL, WHO ELSE IS GOING, SCREAM WITH ME

[furballfaggot]

ok its not entirely done yet (still need to put info on the back + color in the name) BUT the perlers purpose has been purposed

materials: perler/fuse beads (paw, face) - kandi/pony beads + stretch cord (thing attaching paw to head -- fun fact: i made the way the paw faces match my dominant hand when viewed from the front) - old sterilite brand container lid (badge backing, wings)

[worm-in-a-trenchcoat]

I had two gay panics today at two different places, but because of the same person 😭

[bibleofficial]

literally being an insane stalker on the Fraudulent Instagram i made … teehee

[stupidcowboykid]

shoutout to weirdo college trannies for being the only fucking people i can recognize rn.

[jabba-theslutt]

I spent a solid minute looking at my classmate's Obi-Wan and Anakin pins trying to figure out if he ships obikin or just likes star wars

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer!Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 1]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism] Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 2.6k

Authors Note: I have this listed as "part one", because I may want to continue it in the future! This is just an idea that I've had floating around in my head, and I really haven't been inspired to write more of my other story lately, so why not put this out? If you'd like more of this story, please let me know and I can possibly continue it, if it's something y'all are interested in!

(It got another part)

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

New York City is always bustling on a Monday morning. Crowds of people piling onto the sprawling connection of subway, buses and sidewalks on their way for another week of hard work. Jung Kook was among them, wearing a discounted, freshly pressed suit, and a fresh cup of Starbucks coffee in his hand. AirPods in his ear, he let the newest pop playlist cover up the sound of the crowded street on his way to his new office. There was a little, barely noticeable pep in his step, hinting at his excitement for his first day. 

His office building was rather large, even by his own metrics. Coming from Seoul, Jung Kook was no stranger to towering buildings, but this fresh law office had something glistening about its structure. As he entered through the front rotating tour, scanning the pass in his lanyard to be let in, any seasoned attorney would quickly recognize the wide-eyed young man as an ambitious rookie. 

“Jung Kook!” A voice called out from across the lobby. Jung Kook stopped walking and looked up, scanning the room to see Mr. Kim Namjoon, one of the best defense attorneys he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, greeting him with a dimpled smile. 

“Good morning, Mr. Kim!” Jung Kook responded, quickly making his way over to greet him. 

“Aish, Jung Kook. Call me Namjoon.” He smiled shyly. “We’ll be working together as partners, I won’t be just a mentor to you anymore. I want you to feel comfortable around me.” 

“Right, of course.” Jung Kook grinned. “Thank you for bringing me here, I’m really excited.” 

“That’s great to hear.” Namjoon’s voice was warm and sincere. “I wasn’t sure how’d willing you’d be to leave Korea, but I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Yeah, it um…” Jung Kook pauses, thinking to himself for a moment for the right words to say. “It was a move that was for the best.” 

Namjoon kept a smile on his face, but furrowed his brows just briefly as he read into the younger man’s explanation. Not wanting to press too much, he motioned Jung Kook to follow him to the elevator. They walked together with comfortable conversation, questions about Jung Kook’s move to the city and his commute. As the elevator took them high above the rest of the city, Jung Kook’s finger absentmindedly tapped on the coffee cup he held, jitters taking over. 

“We had a case come in that I think you’ll be perfect to help me with.” Namjoon said, leading Jung Kook to his new office overlooking the city. There was an unorganized set of case files already on the desk. “You can put your stuff here, please make this space your own. The case is centering a Korean family, actually, so I thought maybe the two of us could connect with them on that level. Wealthy family, they’ve been doing business in the States a long time. But the son of the founder just recently inherited the company, and he’s being accused of defrauding investors. I need you to look over the case, and tell me what you think.” 

Jung Kook nodded as he took his seat at his desk, opening up the file to read the defendant’s name, Park Jimin. The name sounded oddly familiar to him, but he brushed it aside as he read the details of the case. 

“…Coaxed into investments using fraudulent and misleading data and projections…” Jung Kook read out loud, under his breath, before looking up at Namjoon. “So, he allegedly massaged the numbers into looking bigger than they are, leading to an increase of investments.” 

“Hm.” Namjoon hummed, leaning against the door frame. “Then when the actual numbers came in, and they were nowhere close to what he had projected, he didn’t have the money to pay out. Now it’s our problem.” 

“Yeah, ok.” Jung Kook nodded. “I have some ideas but I’d like to ask him some questions.” 

“Perfect. I’ll give you his contact info, but he should be flying into the city tomorrow. He wants to meet with us anyways, he just needed a little time.” 

“For what?” 

“He recently got engaged.” Namjoon responded nonchalantly, scrolling through the contacts in his iPhone. “She comes from a wealthy family from Busan, apparently. Their fathers knew each other, since they’re both from the city..” 

“Oh, they’re both from my city, I knew his name sounded familiar.” Jung Kook acknowledged. “Since her family is wealthy, maybe I’ve heard of them, too. What’s her name?” 

“Aish, I can’t remember…” Namjoon thought for a moment. “Mr. Park mentioned her, and now my mind is blanking.” 

The two startled when Namjoon’s phone rang. Namjoon apologized before stepping out to take the client’s call, leaving Jung Kook with his case files to further review. The rest of the day passed for the new, young lawyer, buried in a mountain of papers and taking notes. Namjoon peeked into his office on occasion to bring him coffee, or chat, or ask him about the case. But it was a slow, calm first day. 

As was the next day, and the day after that. Jung Kook got into a routine as the weeks passed, feeling a growing sense of familiarity with the way that he was able to bury himself in his work. It was a nice way to briefly consume himself and chase away the loneliness of the last two years of his life. 

He slowly made friends at his new firm. Never the extrovert, he was shy at first and afraid to open up. But knowing Namjoon for several years gave him a foot in the door, and allowed him an entry way into conversations that he wouldn’t have had otherwise. They asked about his life back home, and never dug too deep when he gave vague answers. He appreciated that, and his colleagues grew to like the handsome young lawyer. 

Finally, on a Friday, as the week was winding down and Jung Kook was thinking of possible weekend plans, Namjoon quickly walked into his office after a brief warning knock to his door. 

“We have a surprise meeting with Mr. Park.” Namjoon explained. “He just flew in from Seoul with his fiancé, and called me to say they want to meet with us. They’ll be here in a few minutes, so grab your notes and meet me in the conference room.” 

Jung Kook’s eyes widened and he responded with a quick “ok”, before gathering up his collection of papers into a manila folder, and walking to meet Namjoon, stopping momentarily only to grab another quick cup of coffee to make sure he was alert. Being his first client meeting since joining the firm, he wanted to make sure he was at his best. 

Settling into the conference room, Jung Kook looked over his notes, and made sure to have a pen to write down anything he may need later. He could see a light reflection of himself in the wall of windows facing the rest of the office, which he used to make sure his hair and suit looked presentable. He was hoping that with the money he made off of this case, he could buy a new, nicer suit like the one he saw in a shop window that he passed by not long ago. 

His thoughts of a modest suit however were quieted by the presence of what he knew immediately to be his client walking down the office halls, nearing the conference room. Dressed in a luxurious, designer black suit and Louboutin loafers, Park Jimin was striking at first glance. He hid his eyes behind black sunglasses despite being indoors, and his dyed blonde hair complimented his glowing complexion and lush, pink lips. He looked expensive, the textbook definition of an heir. 

The woman by his side looked gorgeous, Jung Kook thought. She was also beautifully dressed, in a sharp, maroon pencil dress and heels, with sunglasses also covering her eyes. Her Chanel bag dangled off her shoulder, her head was down, and her hand was intertwined with Mr. Park’s as they walked.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Park.” Namjoon greeted with a bow as he opened the door for the couple. “How was the flight in?” 

“It was excellent, thank you. Please, call me Jimin.” Jimin responded, taking off his sunglasses, before turning his attention to Jung Kook. “Hello, I’m not sure we’ve met.” 

“Jeon Jung Kook. I’ve just recently been added to look over the case.” Jung Kook smiled, standing up from his chair to bow. “It’s a pleasure.” 

“Park Jimin.” Jimin introduced himself. “And this is my fiancé, Y/N.” 

Y/N. Jung Kook repeated in his head, his eyes widening. It’s not possible. 

You took off your glasses before bowing to Namjoon, and raised to meet Jung Kook’s eyes. Your expression matched his own, recognizing the man instantly. 

“Jung Kook?” You smiled warmly. “Jeon Jung Kook? Oh my God, what a small world!” 

“You two know each other?” Namjoon asked with a raised brow. He looked over at the young lawyer, who was staring at you with large eyes and parted lips. 

“Jung Kook is an old classmate of mine.” You explained to Namjoon and your fiancé. “We went to the same university ages ago, when we were still living in Busan.” 

This was Jung Kook’s worst nightmare unfolding right before his eyes. Here you were. You. Just as warm, beautiful, and personable as ever. Just as clueless as ever. It was amazing how you could be such an angel, but put him through so much pain, and not even know it. 

“How have you been?” You asked with an innocent, bright grin. “I haven’t seen you in so long!” 

“I-I’ve… been good.” Jung Kook stuttered, causing the other men in the room to look at him with growing suspicion. 

“Honey, I don’t know that you’ve ever mentioned a Jung Kook.” Jimin said in a sweet tone directed at you, while his eyes judgmentally looked Jung Kook up and down. Namjoon nervously watched the interaction, waiting to bud in at any opportune time. 

“We just had a couple classes together.” You explained. “Jung Kook, wasn’t it um…” 

“History.” He finished your sentence, quicker and more deadpan in his tone than what he meant to. “And our political science class.” 

“That’s right!” You nodded. “I remember you were always so smart, I guess it makes perfect sense you practice law now.” 

“We’re happy to have him on the team.” Namjoon interjected, walking over to Jung Kook’s side of the table. He noted how Jimin still seemed unsure of Jung Kook’s mannerisms, and wanted to press on with the meeting. “Let’s get started, I’m sure the two of you have plans for the evening.” 

Everyone took their seat, and Jung Kook stared at the blank notepad in front of him. He could feel Jimin’s eyes on him, but pretended not to be bothered. He scribbled down the date on the paper, desperate to not meet the client’s gaze. 

“So, we reviewed the case.” Namjoon began, seeing how Jimin’s death stare didn’t shake from Jung Kook as he spoke. “We think that we have an excellent shot at winning, and to be completely honest, we’re expecting the judge to throw the case out.” 

“That’s great news!” You said excitedly. “Honey, you’ve been so worried about this.” 

Jimin looked at you, his eyes softening and a soft smile appearing. He rested a hand on your thigh, and looked over towards Namjoon. 

“That is great news. Thank you, Mr. Kim.” 

“Jung Kook has been reviewing the case for several days now, and he put together a couple arguments that we’ll present to the court, and have this ordeal finished, so you can move on.” 

“Y-Yeah, so um…” Jung Kook started, the weight of everyone’s stare feeling heavy and thick in the air. He was careful to avoid your eyes in particular, sure that his reaction would be less than professional. “First of all, the numbers allegedly presented to investors were never your numbers, Mr. Park, they were the numbers that your father had supposedly projected. The suit is filed against you, not the company, so we can argue that you cannot be held personably liable for any losses. A-Also, there’s no um… There’s no physical evidence of these exact projections being shown that the plaintiffs presented so um… We could argue insufficient evidence.” 

If Jung Kook were brave, he’d look up from his notes to see the way you grinned at him with the same, beautiful smile he used to see walking across campus every day. If he were brave, he’d tell you how beautiful that smile, and the rest of you, have always been to him. 

If he were brave, he would’ve told you that a long time ago. But Jung Kook has never been brave. Not then, and definitely not now. Not when his client is shooting daggers at him from across the table, and a sparkling 24k gold and diamond on your finger reminds him of the thing he’s always known; you’re too good for someone like him. You deserve more. 

“I think that sounds like an excellent plan.” Jimin said calmly, eyeing the young lawyer up and down, before turning his attention to you. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “I think Mr. Jeon has this whole thing figured out. What do you think, darling?”

“I agree.” You blushed at your fiancé’s uncharacteristic public affection. “He’s always been so smart.” 

“It seems so.” Jimin responded. “In that case, I believe we can wrap up this check-in meeting. I’d like to take my love out to dinner tonight. It’s her first time in New York City.” 

“Is it?” Namjoon’s voice was pleasant but quick as he spoke. “Well, let’s not keep you two waiting. Thank you for coming in, and we’ll be in touch. Please, Mr. Park, don’t be afraid to reach out to either of us if you need anything.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jimin said, getting up from his chair and helping you out of yours before bowing to the lawyers. 

“Jung Kook, it was so nice to see you.” You said, waving at him while Jimin placed a hand on your back to lead you from the room. “Thank you for working on this for us.” 

“O-Of course.” He bowed. “You two have a nice night.” 

With that, Jimin led you away from the room and down the office, and Jung Kook watched as he took your hand in his and caressed your skin with his thumb. It amazed him how even after all this time, seeing you with another man makes his chest ache. 

“So….” Namjoon’s irritable voice said, leaning against the table. “You want to tell me what the fuck that was about?” 

“It’s nothing.” Jung Kook responded quietly, cleaning up his papers to avoid making eye contact. “Just an old classmate.” 

“Nothing?” Namjoon asked with a scoff. “Our client just burned a hole through you with his glare the entire meeting, and you want to call that nothing?” 

“I want to go home.” Jung Kook said with growing frustration. “I promise, it’s nothing. It’s just been a hard first few weeks, ok?” 

Jung Kook was headed out the door quickly, when Namjoon grabbed his arm to make him stop for a moment.

“If something is going on with our client’s fiancé… if there’s a history there or whatever, you need to let me know so we can manage this. We can’t lose Jimin as a client, we’d both be out of a job. He brings in too much money.” 

“What, does he get into this type of shit a lot or something?” 

“What do you think?” Namjoon asks. “It’s part of the job, dealing with rich clients that have more money than sense. They didn’t teach you that in class? Or were you too busy ogling her?” 

“It’s really nothing.” Jung Kook said, this time more calmly through gritted teeth. “I just need to go home.” 

Namjoon sighed as Jung Kook left the room, and cursed his luck with the obvious situation under his breath. 

[riaki]

guys pls consider… lifeguard!gojo bit inspired by a post i saw a long time ago from @/shotorus, thank u sel + inez !

lifeguard!gojo, who signs you in for a pool session and gives you the wrong time-slot wristband because he’s too busy gawking at you with hearts in his blue eyes to notice he registered you to swim for 12pm-2pm. when, in reality, it’s 4pm in the afternoon and the hot sun is slowly sinking in the sky.

lifeguard!gojo, who mistakes your polite attempts to correct him as signs of disinterest; he sees things through romance-tinted glasses. of course he can't keep a wounded pride, and so he makes it his saturday afternoon goal to win your heart. after all, who in their right mind would reject him in all his dashing chlorine scented glory?

lifeguard!gojo, who reintroduces himself all suave and cool and he thinks it's working mid-hair slick-back— until he gets smacked in the face by a stray rubber ball, and his sunglasses go flying. it leaves a red spot of hashmarks on his nose, like the ball was a cookie cutter and he was the dough. but he doesn't mind, because he got to hear your pretty laugh as you pick up his shades and hand them back to him, albeit at his own expense. you even say a cute thing or two about the chipped popsicle sticker on the frame.

lifeguard!gojo, who's unreasonably (and immaturely) upset over the fact he can't seductively rub sunscreen into your back because you already have beforehand. but he's not complaining; it smells good when he's forced a little closer to you to avoid a rampaging train of kids running across the pool deck. he should yell at them, but the smell of summery citrus and sea salt wafting on the humid breeze distracts him.

lifeguard!gojo, who pours every ounce of his remaining energy into gettin your attention the entire time you're there— with loud whistle blows from the scribble-adorned plastic whistle hanging from his neck, grabbing your attention, only to just offer a charming wink in your direction. or, squeezing idle small talk between every lap you swim, teasing you with a lazy grin on his lips from under his shaded lifeguard stand when you complain about the heat of the blazing sun.

lifeguard!gojo, who ropes his poor, exhausted snack stand friend with the blonde hair and dark shadows beneath his eyes into helping him— when you give up on swimming laps and begrudgingly let him convince you into going down the waterslides as if you’re a nine year old with neon pink inflatable buoy rings around your arms.

lifeguard!gojo, who forces nanami (snack stand man) to ‘accidentally’ send you down the slide early— you’re caught up in the surprise, the sound of rushing water and kids shouting and a cicada’s buzz filling your ears— and before you know it you’re tossed into the bottom of the pool by the stream of water, disoriented and panicking until two steady arms fish you out of the pool.

lifeguard!gojo, who ‘rescues you from drowning’ holding you bridal style to his chest with his sunglasses balanced on the edge of his nose, letting you catch a glimpse of his uncanny blue eyes hidden beneath his dripping white hair. his whistle lanyard hangs loosely around his neck, drawing a line down the center of his toned chest.

lifeguard!gojo, who can’t help but double over as he laughs obnoxiously— boyishly when he gets to watch your face flush cherry as you scramble to get out of his arms and fall straight back into the refreshing water with a splash.

lifeguard!gojo, who’s forced to reconcile with what he thinks is defeat when he gets you kicked out of the pool early because of his earnest registering mistake— and in doing so, you forget your ring on the pool deck. it's just your luck— you don't even realize it until the sun's almost set and you’re halfway home.

lifeguard!gojo, who’s cleaning up and getting ready to close for the night when he spots a gleam of silver reflecting the hazy purple sunset, and he recognizes it as your jewelry (even though that was the first time he ever met you). of course he'd remember it— he'd been absentmindedly staring at your fingers, burning them into his mind; imagining how they'd feel in his damp hair.

lifeguard!gojo, who slips your ring into his pocket after trying it on and marveling at how small your hands must be in comparison to his.

lifeguard!gojo, who’s cleaning out the gutters, waist deep in the pool, when he hears your voice again— pretty like birdsong in the spring, dew gathering on the fragile petals of blooming petals.

lifeguard!gojo, who waits for you to come in— the gate was unlocked— and watches as you kneel on the concrete deck, elbows on your knees as you smile down at him. you look really cute, with your hair falling over your face like that, framed by the dying sunlight.

lifeguard!gojo, who’s a little disheartened when you tell him all you came back for was your ring, and not him. or his phone number.

lifeguard!gojo, who disappears beneath the water for a moment— then resurfaces from the pool dripping wet, hair clinging to his face while he acts as though he'd found your ring at the bottom of the pool. "it's stainless steel, yeah? don't worry about rust." he reassures you with a chuckle when you panic; he thinks it's cute.

lifeguard!gojo, who holds the ring just out of your grasp when you make a grab for it, laughing as you almost fall right into the pool.

lifeguard!gojo, who tells you he'll only give it back if you give him your phone number in exchange as he climbs out of the pool and sits next to you, on the gutters, the sound of rushing water filling his ear.

lifeguard!gojo, who, sitting by your side, focuses on the way the pool looks with the lights turned on, an ethereal underwater dreamscape distorted by the incessant moving water. a way of distracting himself from how beautiful you look in the painted sunset.

lifeguard!gojo, who gets his first taste of you when you ask him to face you; you muffle his yelp of surprise, but it doesn’t matter because you taste even better than you smell, a sweetness like crystal rock candy and blueberries on his tongue when his lips meet yours.

lifeguard!gojo, who takes the opportunity to catch your wrist and slide your ring back onto your finger with a quick lingering kiss to your cheek; his lips are a little wet from his earlier pool dip, but the dreamy look in your eyes tells him you don’t mind.

lifeguard!gojo, who sees you out, still riding on the thrill of your lips; the pride in his chest now that he's got your contact saved on his phone with an excessive amount of heart emojis and a (˘ڡ˘ς) next to your name.

lifeguard!gojo, who can't wait for the next time you come back to the pool, and who ignores the angry slew of texts from his boss scolding him for leaving the gate unlocked in favor of the selfie you send him.

you: [ one image attached ]

lifeguard boy 🛟🤍 : GAYATTTTT LET ME HIT PLSPLSPLSS 🙈🙈😝😝😝😋😋🤞🔥🔥🔥⁉️‼️🔞💯💯😼😻💺💺🗽

bonus: nanami gets u two popsicles to share tagging @sugumimi NAOMI I HOPE THIS IS WHAT U WERE TALKING AB my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

[girlokwhatever]

ʚɞ✧˖ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- end of beginning,, pt.2

part one

emily engstler x fem!ex!reader

you got ready in record time. the combination of your nerves and excitement together spurred you into a frenzy, encouraging you to bounce around your hotel room like you were being rushed.

emily said she’d pick you up soon, causing you to hurriedly make the finishing touches on your look tonight. there was that feeling still, deep down, that you wanted desperately to impress her.

the shared conversation you had echoed in your mind the moment the two of you departed. she asked you out to dinner. your mind teetered on the line between two ideas: she wanted closure so you two could be teammates without your history getting in the way, or, maybe she hasn’t moved on.

you think in some ways you have, but was that even true? if emily came to you with a confession of love that she never let go of, what would you do?

there wasn’t time to ponder the thought because your phone dinged. it was a simple message from emily telling you she’s here. ‘waiting for you outside’ she said, simple but enough to make your heart beat faster. you gathered your essentials and left the ghost-like hotel room to meet emily outside.

when you caught sight of her, leaning against her car, hands buried deep in her pockets and ankles crossed, you knew you were done for. she looked so beautiful, no less than you remember.

“hey, sorry, i know i’m a bit early.”

“it’s all good, i was ready anyway.”

she eyes you up and down, smiling to herself because she recognizes the bracelet you’re wearing. it’s one of the many she bought for you during your relationship. a token of her love for you.

“i was thinking we could get some hibachi, your hotel is kinda close.”

you nod, affirming it’s a pleasant choice. the car ride there is filled with simple conversation. you realize it’s the kind of conversation you’d have with someone you barely know, but then again, it’s been two years since you’ve seen emily.

she is different. but so are you.

“okay i’m gonna warn you, i’ve heard mixed reviews about this place.”

the two of you had been seated almost ten minutes ago and still haven’t been given drinks. you didn’t mind much but you could tell by her bouncing leg that emily was losing patience.

“and you didn’t feel like that was worth mentioning earlier?”

“well i remember you like hibachi and this is the only place i know of that serves it.”

she’s giving you a playful shrug as her fingers toy with the lanyard attached to her keys. you can’t help but let your eyes linger, watching her facial features shift slightly when she breaks eye contact or noticing the almost invisible shake in her hands. she seems much more reserved, a lot quieter than you know her to be.

“hey do you remember that time,” she smiles as she pauses to collect her thoughts, “when we got hibachi and the guy accidentally burnt you with the shrimp?”

“oh my god- yes. i still, to this day, have no clue how he managed to flip it on me instead of the stove.”

“dude that was classic. i mean, unfortunate for you but definitely funny.”

emily leans back against the wooden chair, relaxing into the seat. she was looking at you again and still smiling at the contagious happy memory. it was a popular story to tell during your relationship.

“yeah okay, but when i mention that time in the park when you fell on your face it’s not funny?”

“no. you threw the ball way too high. i don’t even know how you threw the football like that.”

“from practicing when we went to the beach that one time, remember? we’d throw the ball on the beach at night.”

all the recounts of priceless stories never to be forgotten makes your chest swell with fondness. to see the way emily smiles when talking about them warms your heart even more because she’s genuinely happy and you sense no resentment in her tone. she’s appreciative of the time she got to spend with you, even if it was short-lived.

“i don’t think i could ever forget that. it was the best vacation of my life for sure. it was so good, school had kinda been stressing me out and all so i was just happy to get away with you. i remember our first night there you wore that really pretty dress, the white one, and you asked me to take pictures of you at sunset but it was so windy and you kept getting mad. oh my gosh you were so mad. i still have the one picture where you’re pulling that piece of hair out of your mouth and you got so upset because i took the picture and sent it to myself. but you looked so beautiful anyway, it was good.”

you don’t say anything, too shocked to properly collect yourself. though you knew ex’s could be friends, you weren’t aware it was like this. you’re in awe of her really, feeling your cheeks grow warm at her compliments of your beauty.

your eyes stay trained on emily but she’s looking straight ahead at the wall, rummaging through all her memories containing you. you’re all she can think about in this moment and she’s not aware how obvious that simple fact is. she was too lost in thought, too busy missing her past to realize her word vomit.

“i remember too how an ocean wave knocked you over and you got a bunch of sand in your hair,” she leans back further, trying to submerge herself in the memory. “and i had to help you wash it out that night cause your arms were tired. then for the rest of the week you made me go in the ocean with you every time so i could help hold you up, i think i can still feel how tight you’d grip me when a wave came. and we’d always get burnt cause we’d float together for ages. but i didn’t even care because i was just happy to be there with you. nothing else mattered to me.”

the intensity of her words finally dawn on emily, immediately stiffening and clearing her throat. the air between you is thick and her confession weighs in the space between. you have no idea how to react or what you could possibly say to her, but you don’t have to because someone is finally asking what you want to drink.

the rest of dinner was tense with very few shared words. every now and then emily would comment on the quality of the food and you’d say nothing in return.

what could you say?

the ride back to your hotel was even worse. the soft hum of the radio and an occasional road bump was the only noise to fill your space. your eyes stayed glued on the sunset out the window the entire time, trying to remember how you ended up in this situation.

you thought back on everything. from the moment emily asked you to be her girlfriend, the moment you broke up with her, to earlier in the night when she asked you out to dinner. anecdotes of your shared past with her flooded your mind and refused to leave. it wasn’t until she parked at your hotel that they drained, leaving you with a teary waterline and regrets of past decisions. and current ones.

“thanks for taking me out tonight.”

“yeah, no problem.” silence lingered as you climbed out of her passenger seat but once you were about to shut the door she spoke up again, “i’m sorry.”

but it was too late and she wasn’t even sure if you heard her because you just kept walking. shaky breaths and silence consumed the walk back to your room, nothing in your mind but blame on yourself.

you should’ve said something, acknowledged her admission and reciprocated it. instead you sat there silently and visibly watched her shrink in on herself.

you were a coward.

you were a coward back then when you broke up with her, not able to face the uncertainty change would bring. it had only gotten worse. you realized that maybe some things don’t ever change.

the harsh opinion you harbored for yourself only made you feel worse. once you reached your room the tears began to fall one by one down your face, a pent-up sob escaping you from your spot on the bed.

emily was still parked outside, watching the time pass by. with each minute she debated on going inside, straight to your room. she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d do or say when she got there, but she just wanted to see you again.

it had been thirteen minutes since you left. thirteen minutes since she saw you. thirteen minutes since the opportunity to win you over again had passed. thirteen minutes sitting in silence waiting for you to text her something, anything. but you never did.

she couldn’t leave knowing she didn’t try.

so she didn’t. she remembered seeing your key card, your floor and room written across it in bold lettering. that’s where she found herself now, standing on your floor gathering the courage to just knock.

finally she did, hearing you shuffle on the other side of the door. she could swear a drop of sweat was dripping down her forehead, bringing the back of her hand up to wipe at it.

“emily?”

“can i talk to you?” she was going to throw up, she was going to throw up, “please?”

“yeah.. are you okay?”

“are you?” emily looks at your face, makeup disrupted by wet streaks and eyes slightly red, red enough to be noticed. her tone came out harsher than she meant it to, pushing her way into the cold room. you don’t answer, instead busying yourself with shutting the door and turning the lights on.

“can i sit down?”

“go for it.”

she props herself up on the end of your bed, hands resting on her bouncing knees as you approach. you lean against the wall a few feet away as she begins to speak.

“i’m sorry for dinner, if it made you feel weird or anything. i think i should tell you, just get it out of the way, that i still think about you. all the time. and, like, i miss you. i know we’ve both probably changed and we’re different people now, i get it. but nothing, nothing, amounts to the way i felt with you. when i saw you today i felt like old me again. i want nothing more than to be like that again.” emily catches her breath, the jumbled confession coming so suddenly. “i went back to louisville last summer, just to see jeff and stuff. being there reminded me of you. i felt better there because i felt like part of you was there with me.”

she looks at you expectantly, waiting for some type of reaction. you just stare at her with an unreadable expression, tears dipping at the corners of your mouth and you bring a gentle hand up to wipe them away.

“do you ever..” she buries her head in her hands, dragging them down her face, “do you ever feel that way? tell me you don’t and i’ll leave if you want me to. i just have to know so that i can move on with my life.”

“emily..”

“it’s okay” she whispers, “it’ll be fine.”

she stands, tucking her flyaways behind her ear. your eyes connect with a silent message as you try to find the right words. you turn your head away from her direction because you feel like she’s peering into you, dissecting every thought and tearing you apart to find what she wants.

“i think about you all the time.”

it’s short but effective. emily’s heart skips a beat and so does yours, the gap between your bodies lessening.

“getting on the court with you again was so amazing and for that reason alone i’m happy to be here. i left louisville because i couldn’t do it without you. and i spent, oh my god, so many nights regretting my decision. i miss you emily. i’ve missed you for two years.”

neither of you have any words left as she surges toward you, pulling your body into hers. your lips meet in a passionate kiss to make up for lost time, finding peace within one another. emily holds the back of your head to press you as close as possible because she fears you’ll slip away again if she doesn’t. she finally has you back, nothing is taking that away from her.

you’re the first to pull away, placing your forehead against her own. your noses rest side by side, lips touching and fingers tangled in hair as you both pant from loss of breath. you’re so relieved that you’re almost convinced it can’t be real.

there’s no negative feelings plaguing either of you anymore, finally feeling complete.

the rest of the night is spent with tangled limbs and gentle kisses to pass the time. she never leaves your embrace and you don’t leave hers, feeling content right where you are.

you can finally wave goodbye to the end of your beginning with emily, ready to move into the next chapter with her.

ʚɞ✧˖ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

thank you @astroph1les for literally giving me all the motivation to do this

i hope no one forgot about pt.1 i know it’s been a minute 😬😬😬🤗

not spell checked yet but it will be later!!

pls enjoy!!!!!!!

[1800titz]

HI BESTIES. This is the first part of Shibari man/Shibari Asshole/Rigger!Harry x Rope bunny!Reader ((the one I teased here))

The one where Harry runs shibari classes and you think he should smile more

WC: 2.4K

This is part one of a patreon exclusive series; the rest will only be accessible through my patreon. You can already find part 2 up on my patreon (✿◠‿◠) 

When you were a little kid, your brother had an ant farm. 

An acrylic formicarium that’d started out as two boxes with a set of tubes. Over time, it morphed into a staggering, caged cityscape of twisting, pellucid hoses and burrows that spanned the entire length of the desk in his bedroom. 

You'd watch them scatter the tunnels as a little girl, lugging cracker crumbs and bits of fruit off your sticky fingers, weaving along the chutes connecting the boroughs of their curated city.

Your brother did what any nasty, older brother would do— those harvester ants were the torment of your childhood. You'd bicker, and he’d threaten to spill them into your bed when you were sleeping. Told you that the colony would eat her toes, that you'd wake up to wiggle nothing but grisly, little, ichor-soaked stumps.  

The gory intimidation tactic never really did much.

You'd still press your nose to the screen barring the insects and smudge your fingerprints over, fascinated as they congregated to the wet cotton ball in the depths of their home. 

You think it's a little like that now, wandering the swarming alcoves in the underbelly of New York. You're a little harvester ant (all exoskeleton to sheathe the pulpy anguish of a long day— ball it inside, keeping your face even and your mouth in a line), plodding through a network of crystalline, vinyl tubing. Swimming against the swathing current of the colony seeping past you in their beanies and their coats, deadpanned on their dog-eat-dog pursuit of errands. 

During the evening rush hour, it’s teeming under the city that never sleeps. It’s a stunning exhibit, maybe, for a tourist whose hometown flickers every porch light off by nine and has one tributary of a road that seeps away from the community, but it doesn’t help the headache thrumming behind your temples. Instead, it kindles the narked throb in your limbs until it feels like an itch in your bloodstream.

The day’s chewed you up with its sharp, ivory incisors and spit you out. Left something tired and empty. The dregs are grounds of a mucky ire, ready to be shed under the scalding spew of a showerhead. 

You mingle through the horde, slinking the gaps you can manage to squeeze past. Your nose burns. Anti-seize lubricant. Cherry cleaners and old concrete. Musk and brake dust. Ground up, heated steel from the wheels burning — metal on metal. Grease. It smells like asphalt and strife. 

The car is packed. A lumbering throng that weaves and scatters, either casting indignant looks over their shoulders when they’re nudged as you politely shoulder your way through, or soul-sucked into their phones altogether, scrolling in detachment. 

There’s one tawny seat, empty and tucked against the back wall. You inch for it on aching ankles, burning knees; the bits of a long day left sewn into your joints. It gnaws into your marrow, and nothing sounds better than hot water on naked skin. You twist—

Marimba blares from you bag. Someone casts an irrationally exasperated side-eye over their shoulder. You straighten out, and rummage through the contents. Find a battered lanyard. A spare stick of deodorant. A hair tie coated in lint and a sparse handful of change—

Drink water. You thumb the alarm off. 

When you sit back, it’s rigid. Firm and uneven. Warm, like a breathing furnace. It takes you all of a split second to recognize that you've managed to perch on a splayed thigh, clad in denim that’s shredded at the knees, rather than the grooved, ochre plastic of a hovering seat.  

You had thought there was little emotion you could have summoned beyond something drained and miffed. The day surprises you, yet, in its dying breaths. Like a mortified buoy, embarrassment bobs from the cesspool when you startle up and twist.

There’s a man in your seat. 

He looks oddly comfortable, almost as if he’d been there all along. As if you had just conjured a mirage of an empty seat. The only acknowledgement he gives you, blinking up from the phone cradled in his enormous, right hand, is a stoically disgruntled glance from behind the squared, pitch-framed lenses resting on the bridge of his nose. 

“Um. Excuse me—” you blink. Your brows crease, “I was sitting there.” 

He spares you a glance. There’s gems in his sockets. Emeralds. Dewy and dulled from the same, shitty day of skyscraper-morphed incisors gnawing. He looks away, and they coruscate in the near blinding glare of his LED, cast in a faint echo over his glasses.

“No, you weren’t.”

You blink again. He doesn’t even spare you a glance as he denies it. You're forced to stare at the part in his hair; the way a burnt umber curl sweeps over his temple. He scrolls over his screen, instead, with a neatly saffron-lacquered thumb. 

You swallow a flattering epithet that (his obvious disinterest) nearly wrests from your mouth. A flimsy facsimile of a smile sculpts over. Appalled. Nearly seeping into the beginnings of borderline deranged as your threadbare composure gets toyed at by a prick with a clandestine pair of scissors. Almost, almost, almost. 

“Well. I was going to.” 

“That’s unfortunate,” he murmurs, brows kinked, “because this seat is taken.”

A little noise clambers from the back of your throat. You swallow it down and scoff. “Are you serious?” 

“Deadly.” 

It’s dry, derisive, disinterested. The three D’s that are going to get his glasses plucked off and tossed to the floor to be crushed under someone’s heel. 

“Unbelievable.”

His eyes— mossy, reminiscent of the woods— sweep up. He’s quiet. Stony. For the first time, you really get a good look, and decide, instantly, that if he weren’t such an apparent dickhead, maybe his specs and his voguish jumper would make him look sophisticated. Handsome, with his even slope of a nose, full, pink lips, and the dusting of stubble along his cheeks and jawline. 

There’s a sharp contrast to him, like inverted colors. Patchwork of sutures that don’t fit. It’s off, his cozy sweater and his soft hair. He looks like a warm, barbed hug. 

Prickly— saguaro, in a Marc Jacobs pullover, with stinging spines sticking through the stitching. 

“What’s the matter with you?” It’s softer that you'd intended. 

You quiver— everything, all over. Your bottom lip wobbles, your mandible sets, your fingers wring at the strap of your tote. They twitch and stretch at your side with this provoked, goopy slurry of cortisol and adrenaline. It permeates your pericardium. Snakes the tubing with an incensed warmth— embers kindled.

“Do you realize how rude that is?” 

Asphalt and strife. Someone to your side glances over their shoulder and then turns back. The stranger blinks up at you from his phone with soft features chiseled apathetic. Vetiver and musk. 

“M’not sure what you mean.” 

“Are you joking? You stole my seat, dude,” you wave out with your hand. 

He blinks again. 

“I don’t think it ever belonged to you, to be fair—“ then, “Is your name on it?” 

It’s a childish retort to spall your argument into flinders. Your eyes narrow into anticipatory slits. 

“No—“

“Then I suppose it’s not your seat, is it?” he responds sharply— chiaroscuro to the lax, impassive shape that molds his face, “S’first come, first serve …dude.”

A stranger grazes your shoulder blade in passing— something you've become accustomed to. People finding walkways in strait gaps on a train that’s packed like a can of sardines. 

“Oh my God. You are such an asshole— I could be pregnant.” 

He raises his eyebrows. His eyes trail. A slow once-over, wry and disbelieving. Sage and owlish. A stray curl stemming from the forefront of his crown meddles to coil over his forehead. The corner of his otherwise indurated mouth twitches.

“Are you pregnant?” 

No.

“Yes,” you glower. 

It slinks from the back of your throat, unbidden— this lie. Rides up the back up of your tongue and slips through the cracks of your teeth. It’s curdled and twisted, miasmic pulp in tar— who the fuck lies about being pregnant for a subway seat?

You're never going to see him again. 

You're never, ever going to see him again. 

You cup your hand over the underside of your tummy. Sell it, now that you have to. All soft flesh under the button of your jeggings, shrouded under the boxy shaping of your fleece turtleneck— where a baby (that definitely doesn’t exist, last you checked), the size of a citrus limon, would curl up. You tuck your palm over the phantom at your underbelly. 

You've had a shitty day, and now you've been backed into a corner, offering the universe shitty manifestations with your hands cupped out. 

The seat stealer ogles. Meanders from your strategic hand placement to your ireful scowl. Back. His mouth purses. 

“So, it’s not that you could be,” he clarifies, slowly, “It’s that you are.”

Languid. Unrushed, like an overflowing, murky lake lapping at a berm. Someone brushes the back of your arm. 

“Yes.” 

“Are you lying?” 

You scoff. He’s fully transfixed on you now, the glow from his smartphone dimmed on its pending shut-off timer. 

“Are you kidding? Who—“ you hike your tote up, “lies about being pregnant for a subway seat?” 

He purses his lips again, ruddy pillows bordering the sharp chasm of his mouth where the tools to dissect her claims are stowed. Bobs his head. 

“How far along are you, then?” 

You grit out, teeth bared, “Thirteen weeks—“

And a stranger prods past with enough force to nudge you forward. Enough for your shin to brush against the bespectacled stranger's own. Enough to step into his space, nearly between his parted thighs. He frowns. 

He does another slow sweep with his gaze. Furrowed brows, glimmering viridian dancing from behind limped lenses. Gleaning pieces like cattail and twine for a nest. Deciding; are they worthy? A grip over your underbelly, the little frown on your lips that mirrors his own, the way you suddenly crowd his atoms. He’s unconvinced, almost. Apathetic. 

You fully expect him to tell you to fuck off, but then he nudges with his stubbly chin. You shuffle back as much as you can with about three, broad strangers at all sides. 

He bleeds out into you, for a moment, all heat, when he clambers up and steps in to make your cycle — this game of musical chairs to the tune of white noise, flitting on a screeching rail through a tunnel— smoother. He’s broad. Tapered. Thick in the shoulders, a carnegiea of a man towering when he nearly presses his firm chest to you, wrapped in french terry. He’s much softer to the touch than the spikes bristling from his mien implicate. Woodsy and clean, like smoke, and cedarwood, and soap. It flushes the miasmic undertone of grease the subway always has. 

He cocks his head. Sit down. 

“Congratulations,” he tells you when you slot into the nook, splaying your tote over your lap. 

He’s kept your seat warm. 

Whether the statement is in reference to your unborn pseudo-baby or your victory, you're unsure. 

-

-

-

-

KNOTS resembles a yoga studio, with its clean, tall walls, its french oak flooring, and its bone-white bulbs, linearly tiled into the ceiling. It smells like an amalgam of grapefruit cleaning products and spritzes of an air freshener that vaguely echoes the lapping sea. 

Salt, an airy ozone, muguet. Something pretentious that doesn’t fit into the city. 

If it weren’t for the myriad of ropes, lubricants, and toy cleaners stacking the shelving units by the front, you would have felt as if you were here to attend a pilates class. Cycling, maybe. Something sweaty and less …abrasive.

You're late for your seven-to-nine open level, beginner’s course— two soporific hours of staring at rope and tying knots that you'll never get back.

(Slaphappy and fecklessly inept at knot-tying are two traits that don’t work well to take up shibari as a hobby.

“Please— she’s been begging for months and none of those online tutorials make any fucking sense.” 

“So— why don’t you take her with you?” 

“Because I want it to be a surprise,” Niall had opposed. Puffed his chest, “I wanna surprise her. Like a proper ropes guy, you know. And she’s so flexible, too, I could tie her in loads of positions—“

You'd raised your hand. “Spare me.” 

Niall’s always been a glass half-full. Crystalline, effervescent. A bright color.

You couldn’t bear to ruffle his plume when, two autumns ago, he spent a Wednesday afternoon standing outside a women’s handicapped stall in an auto shop for pure, courageous moral support as you took an actual pregnancy test— not even by his doing, and he still was a very good sport. Even if he’s absolute shit at knots beyond tying his own shoes.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that if he struggled with twine and a palomar, it wasn’t going to matter how bendy his girlfriend was.)

You're fourteen minutes late. Eight-hundred-forty seconds and change for every two steps, by the time you find the right door in the balmy corridor of boundless doorways. The portly, alder ingress squeals on its hinges when you shuffle, as quietly as you can manage, into what vaguely resembles a dance studio. 

The attendees look the part, too, perched over their yoga mats in contemporary dancer garb, turning their chins over their shoulders at the disturbance. Dress casual and comfortable. There’s only about eight of them, and they coil in a piqued coterie ahead of the instructor, who has about six varying ropes, diverse in their tint and structure, and then he peers up—

It’s him. Saguaro, with the frames and the eyes like beds of flinty malachite. 

He’s holding a furled, plaited cord, the head of the class, and he pauses, blinking up. Briefly. He clears his throat—

”—Jute, on the other hand, has great knot stability. You can see here, the braided texture— that makes it less slippery.”

Compunction crinkles the valley of skin between your eyebrows as you trudge in alongside Niall— he’s much more amicable about it, mouthing apologies and raising his hand in friendly hello’s that don’t receive much beyond awkwardly indifferent glances. You sink to your knees toward the back, which isn’t all that far from the front, all things considered. It’s a small class. The wood burrows into your tailbone— were the yoga mats a complementary piece? Were you supposed to bring a yoga mat?

“It’s great for floor bondage, but it’s water sensitive. So if you want to work it into suspension, don’t wash it too often. Otherwise, you’re losing carrying capacity.”

The city of New York is a metaphorical hayrick. It’s a paradox, since the big apple is the furthest thing from watery mud, fir-constructed barns, and scythes sweeping through crops. 

Theoretically, though, you should have never seen this man again. 

He should have become swept into the mound of straw— got lost in it. Mortification strums at your muscles, tensing every sinew. It scars deep— scrapes at your cartilage. If you'd known this needle would prick your thumb again, maybe you wouldn’t have waged war for the seat on the subway. 

And yet, here he is.

[lynk-zee]

Idk if you take request or not, I saw through your pfp and didn't saw anything so I'm going to give it a shot at least and if it's not possible it's okay I still love your content anyways :3 a sfw of course of what kind of fans would be the LaD boys if instead of being a hunter (or we just simply decided to switch careers and it goes well for us because the plot said so) we were a popular idol, (I feel like zayne would be a closet fan 100% with the argument that nobody asked) and how they would be in the handshake events

Idol!MC

Authors Note: Hi! Love the request! I was planning on waiting until I have 100 followers before I drafted up a request/asks page but as my first request, there’s no time like the present! So ask page to be determined. Thanks for the request!

Let’s say that your heart condition prohibited you from ever entering the Hunters field, but was stable enough for you to dance and sing…

Zayne would have been a long time fan, even before you were famous. When you were children, he would always hear you sing with the prettiest voice and see you dance like you were floating on air… When you did end up becoming an idol, Josephine made sure he was one of the first people to know, sending him a pamphlet of your first performance. So you can say he’s an OG stan. His desk at home would be littered with merch from keychains to pins even to a framed autograph with your kiss stain (he flushes all the time when he sees it and he will take that secret to his GRAVE). He has one of your keychains on his lanyard, but it’s small enough that no one would recognize it unless they squint hard enough. When it comes to your meet and greet, you’re surprised to see your childhood friend standing there, wearing your tee-shirt, all blank-faced and stoic, waiting for a handshake.

MC: Zayne? I didn’t know you were a fan…

Zayne: …You never asked.

In his head, you and Rafayel are already dating. Sure, you haven’t formally met yet, but it would make sense, no? He, who expresses himself through his paint. You, who touches the hearts of fans through your voice. An inspired duo indeed. You would make beautiful art together. Rafayel would download all your albums, playing your music when he hits an art block, harnessing the feelings he gets when he watches your performances on his phone to make art about a soft flame kindling warmth amongst the cold. Meeting you was nerve-wracking. For all the pomp and circumstance he puts out, he’s shy to meet person of his dreams. But today was the day— no going back now! He bought backstage passes to meet you one on one, no distractions whatsoever. When you came in after the show, his cheeks flushed with fire and his ears turned red at how beautiful you were in person. After wiping the sweat off your face from such an intense performance, you gave him the prettiest smile he’d ever seen.

MC: It’s nice to meet you, Rafayel! I’m a huge fan of your art!

Rafayel: O-Oh, really? *ahem* I’m glad your as big a fan of my art as I am yours. I could give you a personal tour at the gallery if you’d like…?

Xavier didn’t exactly understand what it meant to be obsessed with an idol. Yes, he loves your music and thinks you’re very pretty, and sure, he’s indulged in buying some merch a few times, but spending three hours at a claw machine to get your limited addition plushie was normal right? Xavier is a pretty lowkey fan to be fair. He wears your tee-shirts to bed and works out to your music, but all of that stays within the house anyways. Him meeting you was by chance or fate, who knows. He couldn’t sleep at night, a rare occurrence, when he decided to take a walk to clear his head. All of a sudden, his hunters watch goes off and a shrill scream fills the air, calling him to action. As he swiftly takes care of the Wanderer, he turns to make sure the pedestrian was safe when he realizes it’s you. His very favorite idol. Xavier’s face goes blank as he processes the whole situation and you scramble to your feet to thank him.

MC: Thank you so much, Mr. Hunter! You’re my hero…

When you lean up to give him a kiss on the cheek, leaving a lipstick stain on his skin, he almost fainted.

[alisonsfics]

roommate’s best friend part two

pairing: calum hood x ashton’sroommate!reader

summary: after your make out session with calum was interrupted by ashton, you were both very excited to spend more time together at a 5sos gig. (part one)

word count: 2.7k

warnings: unprotected sex, public-ish sex (it’s backstage), tiny praise kink, minors DNI

You were planning to see Calum tonight for the first time after your little make out that was interrupted by Ashton.

You both had planned to have a little date night at Calum’s apartment, where you couldn’t be interrupted by Ashton. Before you could leave, you and Ashton had a plumbing emergency that kept you both at your apartment.

When you called to tell Calum that you couldn’t make it, he practically begged you to let him sneak over just to be with you for a little bit. You knew it would just end with Ashton accidentally seeing something he shouldn’t, and you couldn’t handle that embarrassment again.

Calum and Ashton had both invited you to a gig that the band was having tonight, so you would finally get to see Calum.

You were in the middle of picking out your outfit, obviously wanting to look nice to impress Calum.

“Oh, is somebody getting ready to see her boyfriend tonight?” Ashton teased you from your open doorway. You turned to face him and saw the smirk on his face. “C’mon, Ash, we can’t just be adults?” You pleaded. He chuckled and shook his head. “I caught you hooking up with my best friend. It’s a perfect opportunity for teasing, I can’t waste it.” He told you.

Ashton stepped towards you and held out a lanyard. “Wear this and security will let you in tonight. I’m about to head out, I’ll see you later.” He told you. You took the lanyard from him and said goodbye to him.

A few hours later, you were on your way to the concert, and you had butterflies in your stomach as you thought about seeing Calum.

You had picked out some leather pants and a red lace top that you were hoping Calum would like.

You got to the venue and security let you in quickly after seeing your badge. A security guard led you back to where the guys were hanging out. “They were in the lounge last time I checked, but if they’re not there, I’ll bring you to their dressing rooms.” The security guard told you.

You approached the room and saw a few couches sprawled around the room and a minibar against the wall.

You saw someone sitting on the couch on their phone. You recognized him as Luke from Ashton’s Instagram posts. “Here you go,” the security guard said, gesturing towards the room and then leaving.

“Hi, I’m Luke,” he said, jumping up to greet you. You quickly shook his hand and introduced yourself to him.

“Ashton just ran to the bathroom, he’ll be back soon.” Luke informed you. You nodded your head. “I’m really excited to see the show tonight. I got to go to one of your shows before, and I had a great time.” You told him.

“Oh thank you, yeah tonight should be good.” He agreed. You both heard footsteps and turned to see Calum walk into the room.

His eyes scanned over your outfit slowly, taking it all in. “Hi, there,” he said, softly. You gave him a smile as he walked over to you. “C’mon, Cal, give her a hug.” Luke said, teasing Calum for how stunned and speechless he was.

You giggled at Calum’s flustered expression. “Wait, but how do you—” Calum started to ask Luke.

“You really think Ashton was able to keep you guys and your thing a secret?” Luke said, chuckling.

Luke made sure not to stare so he wouldn’t make you both uncomfortable. “Hi,” you said, softly. He stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “You look beautiful.” He whispered as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly. The scent of his cologne filled your lungs. You both pulled away, not knowing what to say to each other with Luke in the room.

“So, you two met already?” Calum asked, gesturing towards you and Luke. You both nodded. Then, Ashton and Michael walked in the room.

“Hey,” Ashton said, smiling once he saw you. He walked over and gave you a hug. He turned around to gesture towards Michael and introduced the two of you.

You noticed Ashton walking over to Calum, probably to tease him in some way, so you started talking to Luke and Michael. You were telling them about the first show of theirs you had gone to.

You were trying your best to make a good first impression, considering you’d probably be spending a lot more time with them.

You felt Calum’s hand slip around your waist, and he brought his lips to your ear. “Can I get you a drink?” He whispered in your ear, keeping his tight grip on your hip. You nodded your head, “yes please,” you said.

He walked away to get you a drink. Ashton joined your group and was smirking at you. “Don’t you even,” you said, stopping him before he could make a comment.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Ashton lied through his teeth. Luke and Michael chuckled at his horrible poker face. “I’m trying to make a nice first impression with your friends, and you just can’t stop yourself.” You said.

“You made a pretty good first impression with Calum,” Michael muttered under his breath, trying not to laugh. You were too stunned to speak. You sat there with your mouth open as the three of them started cracking up. “All three of you now?” You asked.

Calum appeared at your side with two drinks, handing one to you. “Yeah, she did make a pretty good impression, y’know until Ashton ruined it.” Calum said, winking at you.

You slipped your arm around Calum’s back and leaned into him. “You both are pretty cute together actually” Ashton said, making your cheeks heat up.

“Hey guys, you got like five minutes til you need to be on stage.” Someone said, as they walked in the room. You looked over your shoulder and saw someone who looked like their manager.

“C’mon,” Calum said, interlacing your fingers and pulling you behind him. You followed him to the side of the stage. You both set down your drinks and one of the crew members handed Calum his bass.

You gave Calum a kiss on the cheek. “Have a good show,” you told him. He thanked you and gave your hand a quick squeeze. The other three guys started to walk on stage, but Calum stopped.

He held up two fingers and beckoned you closer to him. He quickly cupped your face and kissed you. You were surprised by the kiss, but kissed him back.

“Gotta get my good luck kiss,” he said, before running out on stage.

You got to watch the whole show from the side of stage and had the best time. Calum even looked over at you a few times and winked at you once.

As the show ended, you cheered for the guys, and they took their bow. The guys filed off the stage past you, giving you high-fives as they went by.

Calum came off the stage last with a giant smile on his face. He handed off his bass and then grabbed your hand. He started pulling you down the hallway.

“Calum, where are we going?” You asked him. He didn’t answer your question, but continued pulling you behind him. You both got to his dressing room door and he pushed the door open.

Before you knew it, he had pulled you both inside and closed the door. He pinned you to the back of the door. “You remember when we talked about you fucking that bassist in his dressing room?” He asked you, his mouth almost pressed up to your ear.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, I remember,” you said, breathlessly. Calum’s entire chest was pressed up against you, and you were finding it hard to focus.

“Well that bassist really likes your outfit and got really turned on seeing you on the side of the stage, so if you were still okay with that plan,” he said, practically growling.

“Yes, yes, just touch me, Cal,” you begged him. As soon as the words left your mouth, Calum’s lips were on yours. His lips moved quickly against yours.

He grabbed at the back of your thighs and picked you up against the door. “No one to interrupt us this time,” he said, smirking against your lips.

You raked your fingers through his hair, causing him to groan. He planted his lips on the side of your neck and started slowly sucking on your skin.

You tried to silence the moan that fell from your lips. “Don’t hold back, let me hear you.” He coached you.

He pulled you away from the door and laid you down on the couch. “You look so gorgeous,” he said, in awe as he looked at you.

You pulled him towards you and tugged at the bottom of his shirt. He quickly pulled it over his head and threw it to the side. “C’mere, rockstar, can’t wait,” you said, pulling Calum on top of you. Hearing you call him “rockstar” turned Calum on more than he would ever admit.

His hands slipped under your shirt and traced your sides, caressing your skin. “Help me take it off,” you said, putting your hands up and allowing Calum to pull your shirt up over your head.

“So gorgeous,” he mumbled as he quickly got rid of both of your pants. He grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist. You cupped his face and kissed him hard.

Having Calum’s hands on you made you feel like your skin was on fire in the best way. A moan slipped out of you as Calum rocked his hips against yours. “Please, Cal,” you begged.

“Please what, sweetheart?” He asked, placing kisses along your jaw. You groaned, twisting his hair around your fingers.

“Please, fuck me,” you told him.

He pulled down your panties and carelessly threw them to the side. “You know that when Ashton showed us a picture of his roommate, I think I fell in love with you right then, most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.” He told you, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“You look so hot on top of me, like this.” You said, as he slipped out of his boxers.

He grabbed your hips with his large hands to steady himself. “You ready?” He asked, meeting your gaze. You nodded your head quickly.

He slowly pushed his length into you. You clawed at his back as you adjusted to his size. He stayed still, buried inside you, for a while. He peppered soft kisses on your shoulder as he waited for you.

“Keep going, I’m okay,” you assured him. With one final kiss on your lips, he pulled himself out and started thrusting into you.

Calum’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as his hips hit against yours. You let your eyes roll back as you grabbed at the couch, desperate to find something to hold on to.

“Here,” Calum said, grabbing both your hands and pinning them above your head. You let out a whimper as you felt the strong grip of his hand on your wrists.

“Let me do all the work, just focus on feeling good,” he instructed you. He placed sloppy, wet kisses down your chest, using his free hand to caress your breast.

“So good, Cal. Just like I imagined,” you mumbled, your eyes still shut. You noticed a break in Calum’s rhythm. You opened your eyes and noticed he was just looking at you as he continued to push his hips into yours.

“You were imagining this, baby?” He asked you, curiously. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, both from the pet name he’d just used and what you had just admitted.

“Don’t be embarrassed, what were you thinking about?” He asked, turned on by the possibility of your fantasies. You hid your face in the crook of his neck. He peppered kisses all around your face, hoping to get you to open up.

It was ironic. His cock was deep inside you, but you could barely bring yourself to meet his gaze.

“I saw pictures you posted from tour, and I thought about what it’d be like to go on tour with you. We’d travel around together, and I’d know all the fans you met were imagining you the way that only I would get to see you. And I thought about what it’d be like to ride you.” You confessed.

A groan fell from Calum’s lips after hearing the words leave your mouth. “That’s really hot, gorgeous.” He told you, moving his grip to your hips.

He reached deeper inside of you and hit your g-spot. “Oh, fuck, Calum,” you moaned.

“Y’know, we could make those fantasies happen if you want. We could at least do that last one tonight.” He told you, making your cheeks heat up even more.

“C’mere, honey,” he said, holding onto you and sitting up so you were straddling him.

He kissed you to make you more comfortable. “I’ll help you,” he mumbled against your lips. He grabbed your hips and lifted you up. You started rolling your hips against his.

“Oh, fuck, baby. You look so good on top of me.” He moaned, throwing his head back. He pushed his hips forward, meeting yours halfway.

Your thrusts started to become more rushed as you got closer to your high. “I’m almost there, Cal,” you mumbled, grabbing his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Me too, baby,” he told you. You both quickened your pace. You arched your back as you started to feel it approaching. You both were breathing heavily.

You were mesmerized watching how quickly Calum’s chest was rising and falling.

“Oh, fuck, Calum,” you called out, as your orgasm hit you. He wasn’t far behind you. “Oh, shit,” he mumbled, his thrusts beginning to falter.

He slowed down his pace, slowly thrusting up into you to help you both come down from your highs.

You collapsed against his chest, resting your head on his shoulder. “That was amazing,” you mumbled against his skin. He chuckled at your exhaustion. “You did amazing, baby,” he said, kissing the side of your neck.

He ran his fingers up and down your back as you caught your breath.

Once you finally got up, you both got dressed again and headed to Ashton’s dressing room, where Calum was told the guys were hanging out.

“Look who finally decided to join us,” Michael said, smirking at Calum as you both entered the room. All three guys were in the room, along with their significant others. Luke handed both you and Calum a drink.

“You both finally sort out that sexual tension?” Ashton asked, causing you to choke on your drink. Your eyes darted to Calum for help.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “I may have left you a little present on accident,” referencing the hickey on your neck.

“Calum,” you whined, dragging out his name and trying to cover your neck with your hand. This earned a chuckle from the group.

“C’mere,” he said, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“I’m going to have so much fun teasing the two of you,” Ashton said, chuckling to himself.

“Don’t worry, we won’t all be teasing you. Not yet, at least” Luke promised you both. You let out a small giggle. “That felt a lot less comforting than I think it was intended to be.” You replied, earning a laugh from Calum.

He slipped his hand in the back pocket of your pants, keeping you next to him.

“So, Ashton mentioned that you guys were planning to set us up anyway. How was that going to go down?” You asked, curiously.

“Well the girls had to talk down Ashton because he was ready to steal Calum’s phone and send you some raunchy messages, and Calum would have killed him. Michael and I suggested a blind date, but Ashton wasn’t going to settle for that. He suggested that we lock you both in a room together and just wait it out.” Luke explained to you.

“Your great matchmaking plan was to hold us hostage?” Calum asked Ashton, exasperated.

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me it wouldn’t work, neither of you can keep your hands off each other.” Ashton argued.

“That’s true.” Calum said, smiling down at you.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @azghedaheda @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @bookwormchick91 @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @multitargaryen @stephv213 @impossibleapricotlampbat @lickmymelaninn @holding-on-to-my-youth @spiderstyles04 @ahoodgirl

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[shirozora-draws]

I am so late but I am finally done with the first round of merch that I am satisfied with. I am satisfied and we are rolling forward with this set. Now to send off all of my final sample orders so that I know these are absolutely working and are worth posting to a shop site as pre-orders.

Clan of Three lanyards. I recognize that I could easily turn these into washi tapes if I wanted to. We'll see.

Grogu Baby Crimes. Sticker & acrylic shaker charm. Completely revamped after carrying around the old version as an acrylic shaker charm and deciding it was too unwieldy and, more importantly, not cute enough. This will be a sticker option and an acrylic shaker charm option.

Keldabe kiss - Interstellar version. Matte & holographic sticker.

Keldabe kiss - Tatooine version. Matte & holographic sticker.

Live Cheen Reaction. Sticker. For all the fans of Cheen Yofree, the unluckiest third-wheeling Rodian OC.

Need A Hero. Sticker & acrylic charm. The only thing I'm putting forward with Din's face for now. I wanted something cute.

Clan of Two. Sticker. A straightforward general sticker.

The Battle Couple. Sticker (for now). This was actually designed to be an embroidered patch, but I'm not really there yet. The sticker shape is odd so I might present this as a kiss cut sticker.

Luke on Ossus - no scars. Sticker. For people who don't want scars?

Luke on Ossus - scars. Sticker. I just wanted to doodle a thirst trap, thassit.

The Storm. Sticker (for now). I wanted to make more merch for my fics and might use this template for the other fics in the Dangerous Dreams series.

The Clan of Three. Sticker. This motherfucker held me up for MONTHS. I didn't like the previous full-body version especially after getting several sample stickers so I started over... and then got stuck. For months. But here we are. The final piece of the puzzle.

Limited - Tron. Sticker & acrylic charm. I wanted to make a little Tron merch. The acrylic charm will be double-sided with Tron on one side and Rinzler on the other. Thank god this guy is more or less symmetrical.

Limited - Rinzler. Sticker & acrylic charm. For people who like Rinzler. This will be double-sided with Rinzler on one side and Tron on the other side.

I'm sending off a final round of sample sticker and charm orders so that I can get a feel for the revamped and new designs, and once I'm happy I'll get the pop-up shop up and running.

Round 2, I'm looking at small prints, possibly the embroidered patch, and maybe a Tron|Rinzler standee. Also a sticker for The Suns maybe, possibly also The Stars. What if I did a WarGreymon|BlackWarGreymon charm?????

And now.... we write.

[casablancarossa]

Please Amore.

<< a taemin x reader story>>

asdfghjkl; I'm fine seriously. Totally have recovered(?) No I have not been sitting on this fic for a while.

Pairings : Taemin x female!reader Genre: Smut. Content Warning : 18+, Minors DNI, Yeah it is smut okay?! Synopsis: You missed a side of Taemin. The non-gentle side of Taemin. And you are hellbent in seeing it. Authors Note: Seem I am incapable of writing anything short? So here ya go darlings. Another long read of Taemin torturing us.

You relaxed back into your seat of the green room, watching through the monitor of Taemin's performance. He was breathless, sweating and positively oozing with 'fuck me' energy. Something about him performing Strings really stirred something in you where you couldn't control yourself around him. It was like a little drug in your system that craved being held by him, being right under him. A lump in your throat caused you to cough violently which caused the stylists and other stage staff to giggle at you a bit.

It was not a secret, at least to anyone in the industry that Taemin had been seeing someone since before enlisting in the army. Even eagle-eyed fans knew that the very song he was singing was on ode to someone he was seeing. If anything, Taemin was no stranger to releasing music that felt sinful but with such an angelic voice, it offered that duality that piqued the interest of fans.

Such a daring mixture to play Strings after Heaven too. It made you laugh how bold Taemin has been and it's something you needed him to let loose out on you. You wandered out of the green room so you could wander towards the side of the stage, wondering if you can take a peek through the equipment. Staff were running back and forth, making sure the the lighting underneath the tilted stage were still responding when the lights needed to be changed,

Taemin was not even halfway through his set list and he was already annoying you and you had to sit there and witness this man, not only ruin your life but as well as thousands of Shawols' lives too, purely by existing. You try not to even think about the stunt he pulled with Criminal. So early onto the concert too. That's right honey, destroy all our fucking underwear why don't you. Groaning, you ask the stage manager if you could borrow some items that could make you pass as stage staff so you could walk around top up Taemin's water bottle collection.

You were surprised when a stylist noona commented that you could probably fit into Taemin's regular clothes and go out unnoticed if you layer and pad yourself out. While jamming to Taemin singing his pretty little heart out, you rush back to the green room and throwing Taemin's clothes on and layering a thick hoodie on top of it all. His favourite cap laid on the makeup table. If I wear this, would he recognize it's me? You quickly grab the hat and tuck your hair in before the same stylist walked in with a black mask and glasses.

She comments how it might help and shield your face a bit more, understanding how fans might not take a random female stage staff too lightly, but also just in case you might get recognized in the future.

As you walk back to the side stage an ahjussi has prepared a staff lanyard for you and headphones. With this, you truly looked like you have been working as a stage staff the whole time. Euisoo saunters towards you, giving you water bottles to carry outside, commenting to keep your head down and try not to distract Taemin. He warned you knowing fully well, that while you may have no intention or plans or even attempts to distract him, he knows Taemin well enough that the mere sight of you, or your presence amongst the crowd sends the boy on frenzy and ends up distracting himself.

Taemin would finally have a chance to settle, get some water, not wanting to pull away from his adoring fans. He was so grateful for them and you admired how humble he was under the care, love and support Shawols have given him. You make your way out the hidden staff door under the stage so you could hug the walls of the platform, walking to the nearest water station and placing the bottles Euisoo had given to you.

The cold arena felt suddenly warm as Taemin walks towards where you were picking up a water bottle, crouching down. He surely couldn't have noticed you already did he? With your head down, you stand back, stepping beside one of the ground staff who were talking to Taemin through his earpiece. Idle babble of lighting, warning about various pyro and confetti explosions and adjusting sounds were going on. A supposed 15 minute conversation happened in less than a minute in your head, surprised by how efficient Taemin was communicating with the team while his mic was still on, giving hand signals for simple yes and no questions. All the while, he was staring you down every now and then while he conversed with the fans.

Of course he noticed you. He could pick you out from a line-up, while horribly wasted and half blind. Taemin also knew what you were like, how this side of him performing drove you insane. He was so happy to leave you accustomed to his chaotic childlike, puppy behaviour at home, that when he switches during performances or in bed, it felt like a bus had crashed into you from how sudden and unexpected it is.

You did only have yourself to blame, afterall you were the one with the pitiful request to let Taemin spare you from his sinful advances on a very regular and almost too frequent basis. As much as you adored the side of Taemin that you see in stage, with you, it felt like he had set the dial was at 100. Taemin was rough for sure, his dominant streak was what got you hooked and dear gods he was good at it too.

How on one occasion during his trip back home from the military, for a family dinner, Taemin had used the small kitchen to his advantage, brushing his hips against yours with a slight buck, whenever he needed something from the cupboard in front of you. How during a photo-op encouraged by his mom, caused him to delicately trail his fingers up and down your spine, which he knew sent you dizzy and breathless. Yes that is what Taemin loved to do to you, to tease you in public. While he may have enough self composure to not go wild, you however could not and by the wee hours of the night, you are begging, pleading and if it was in an empty house, probably screaming Taemin's praises.

But after one too many arguments, accusing Taemin that he only wanted you for your body, the quality of sex didn't necessarily die down, but the significant decrease meant that Taemin was more susceptible to being more casual, more tender and loving. It's no surprise to anyone, but Taemin was a cheesy romantic. He was the type to scatter rose petals in the bath tub when you had a long day. He was the type to quietly harass Kai, Jimin and Ravi to go to a spontaneous location he had picked mere minutes ago so he could take you there and by the time you two have arrived, Taemin's friends would be panting, breathless after quickly decorating a very elaborate and stocked picnic set-up.

At it's very core, it was all romantic and yes Taemin had no qualms in ravaging you in public, but nowadays it felt like Taemin no longer fucking you but made love to you instead, which was completely two separate things for you. You loved getting fucked by your boyfriend but you treasured being made love to even more.. It was heated and passionate without the frills and it was just the two of you with Taemin coveting your body like the goddess he deemed you to be. But you weren't an idiot or insensitive either, deep down more than ever you knew, Taemin craved that extra form of control, to have you be a broken mess under him, to have you be at every beck and call to his commands, not because you were scared but because you did enjoy it as much as he did.

Gods, how long have you been staring at him from the bottom of the stage? You were so lost in your thoughts that you had been functioning on auto-pilot for the last few minutes and if it weren't for the explosion during Danger, nothing would have snapped you out of it. From the corners of your eyes. you saw Euisoo gesture for you to rush towards him to the staff door. The manager, mentions something about outfit change and having Taemin upside down again and how your boyfriend might appreciate a comforting face for support.

"Wah, Lee Taemin, you were so cool out the there!", you exclaimed as you walk back into the green room.

There he was, your own personal Adonis, shirtless once more, holding his next outfit in his hands. Shocked that he wasn't dreaming that you were indeed wearing his clothes as you plop his hoodie on a sofa. "Were?" he cocked his brow at your statement.

"Are. Still are" you corrected yourself at his behest, stepping towards him as the stylists carefully take the mic pack away from his trousers, setting it aside. While yes it is their job to get the idol all dressed up and ready, you really did not need to see them get handsy on your man, despite them having literally the most purest of intentions. "Don't worry eonnies, I can dress him from here", you stated out loud, casting your eyes at the women as they remained while Taemin walked towards the changing screen to change in private, had they stayed in the room.

At your words, Taemin cracked a grin, looking back behind him. Is his girlfriend having a stand-off with his stylist noonas? The air was thick with tension and you couldn't have been anymore obvious that you wanted them out of the room. He offers a nod to one of the older stylists that it was okay. It wasn't your first rodeo in getting him ready. For the better part of 'Hard' promotions, Taemin had you chasing after him because he refuses to get his hair and makeup done properly after eating and mainly because he got distracted annoying Key about their 'couple bags'.

As soon as the doors closed and that you two were finally alone, Taemin, resumed getting undressed, hastily putting on the red outfit left behind consisting of some baggy pants and a very convoluted styled sweatshirt with dangling pieces of fabric and an overskirt to wear over his pants. Meanwhile, you had approached him with a puff sponge in one hand, already coated in product as you dab at his face gently, working the product in and trying to apply it evenly, lifting his chin so you could even out his jawline. Your fingers playful trickle down the side of his neck before wrapping them around the base, looking up at him with desires that could burn this room right now.

Taemin quickly grabbed your wrist, pulling them away from his neck, still holding on with a firm grip, his head lowered, just so his lips were mere millimetres away from each other. Before he could lean in to kiss you, your head darted back, avoiding his advances. You stumble backwards to walk towards the vanity. With a slight bend of your back and over the table, you dropped the sponge and picked up a lip tint this time, carefully applying it to yourself with your fingers without contaminating the applicator.

You watched through the mirror as your partner's eyes had darkened, watching you bent over any surface, watching your finger carefully swipe against your plush bottom lip before biting them, as your siren eyes lure him even so slightly. You played coy as you rested both of your hands on the desk to keep yourself up while jutting out your backside for Taemin's viewing pleasure. Your hands carelessly tousled through your hair before hiding a devilish grin behind them as they cascade to frame your face.

How is it, not a word has been uttered between the two of you and yet so much was said. You were trying to play with fire and Taemin was not pleased by your actions. He lets out a little cough to break the silence, making his way towards you. One hand grip at the backrest of a chair that was standing beside you, he carefully lifts to tilt it forward an inch before slamming the back legs down to catch your attention, almost making your jump in your spot.

Your body effortlessly sway and sit down on the seat Taemin had moved, your eyes were more alert, constantly staring at the dark haired boy through the mirror. His tongue clicks, before standing right behind you, his eye were barely peeking through his fringes. You didn't like it when you couldn't see his eyes. Usually they were the first giveaway of what emotions he was feeling at a given moment. "Hands clasped behind the chair", he orders.

You struggle at his words, they sounded a bit darker and lustful. "We don't have much time, amore",

With a nod, your hands finds themselves clasped together, your eyes never leaving the sight of him. You wanted to take it all in, you wanted to see the switch, the dial up past 100. Taemin's hands rest on your shoulders, lightly massaging them as they make they way towards the nape of you neck. Taemin quickly rustled through his pockets taking out a lengthy red fabric, arranging it accordingly before wrapping it around your eyes, doing a loose knot behind your head.

It wasn't long before his fingers thread through your hair, clasping a fistful and pulling your head back. You normally would have let out a pained mewled but Taemin didn't give you a chance as his lips crashed down onto yours, feverishly kissing you while his spare hand roams your chest, carelessly grabbing at your breast, trying to push his digits past the bounds of your bra so he could pinch your nipple through your shirt.

His touch almost scalds you as quivers and squirm in his hands. God you craved his touch so much, you desperately sought out for his fiery skin against yours. You can already imagine how it would feel so nice to feel how soft his skin is, how it is hot to touch, how it smoothly glides against your own, every cell and fibre getting electrocuted at the intensity of it all. Damn clothes. Damn fucking clothes. You mewled more desperately into his kiss, silently pleading more.

As much as Taemin wanted to tease you, he couldn't resist. You could feel the back of your head hit what you assumed is his abdomen. His fistful grip never left your head, occasionally tugging at it, but not his other hand found your knee and with a swipe up towards your heated core, your legs had unconsciously spread open for him, his fingers trailing circles around your thighs. You found it hard to keep the grip on your own hand as you desperately wanted to touch him as well, to guide his hands where it mattered, but if you disobeyed him, he might not even touch you tonight.

The man's hands fumbled against his jeans which you were wearing and until there was enough give, he snaked his hand through the crotch area and began teasing your heated mound through the fabric of your underwear, eliciting a very audible gasp out of you. His lips were suddenly close to your ear, with heavy breathing. "Don't make a sound mi amore, they will hear how slutty you get", he teased.

You bit your lips trying to contain your voice, but it didn't help that Taemin was talented in finding your bundle of nerves, his finger pressing on it rhythmically and circling it around that cased your body to lean forward in pain. Taemin continued his pace before a teasing finger had pressed your underwear a little bit into you.

The sudden intrusion had cause your legs to almost snap shut, trapping Taemin's hands in between your thighs and it weren't for his growl, you would have followed through, but you focused so hard in keeping your legs spread, your thighs slightly convulsing after straining to stay open. Taemin rewarded your efforts by delicately manoeuvring his fingers to set aside your underwear and bury two fingers immediately into you, causing your body to lean forward even more, your lips spread almost silently screaming.

Taemin watched through the mirror as your body jolts here and there as his fingers relentlessly pumps into you, groaning at how your walls clenched around his digits, the only noise filling the room were subdued panting and squelching noises. "Don't you look pretty like this, mi amore", he asks pulling your head up by your hair.

What a stupid question. You were blindfolded, but you knew what he meant. He loved how easy it was for you to fantasize about what was happening to your whenever you were blindfold. As if you seeing yourself come undone by Taemin, helpless and needy, made you so much more wetter. "Amore..", you whimpered. "Please..."

Taemin let's out a sinister chuckle before whispering, "No". With his words, he pulled his fingers out quickly out of you and quickly grabbed the blindfold off you before rushing towards the door. You were so lost in the moment, you had not even realized there had been knocking voices for Taemin to get on the stage to get strapped in for the rotating platform.

Your look at yourself through the mirror wondering how the ever loving fuck did you look so dishevelled. A few baby coughs left your chest as you recollect yourself before standing up, finding it hard as a noticeable pressure has built up between your legs. Fucking Taemin, you are a dick, you thought to yourself before standing up to walk out of the room to see Taemin, already harnessed on and about to flipped for his entrance to 'Door'

As the concert continued, you stayed in the side-lines and watched Taemin perform, cheering quietly from where you were as to not disturb the staff who you already have probably annoyed tonight.

When it was time for another outfit change, Taemin hurried towards the sides, calling your name out repeatedly. The man stated out loud that you would be helping him get dressed again which caused the stylists to back down and giggle as his words caused an annoyed scowl plastered all over your face. His hands have a death grip around your wrists once more, rushing towards the room and giving the door a little slam. "Tae, you need to chill, people will definitely think we are about to fuck", you sighed as you stumble into the dimmed room.

"Fuck them" Taemin lets out a growl, a growl you know to well as his 'I'm horny and I'm angry growl'.

Before you could utter another word, Taemin grabs you by the shoulders, pushing you towards the makeup table, his hand roaming your sides and back as he plants a doozy of a kiss, forcing your lips apart with his tongue. It was like a familiar dance that you have found yourself in. He pushes you onto any surface and your automatic instinct is to sit on it, parting your legs to give room for Taemin to between them, while your arms are hooked on his shoulder, pulling him more into the kiss.

"Mmf--What. Am. I. Going. To. Do. With. You" Taemin groans, enunciating every word with a kiss, starting from your lips that trailed to your jaws then neck.

"Anything please. Everything." the words fell like a lump of nonsense and mumbles, but you were too focused on the fact that Taemin had nipped slightly on your neck.

Your pleading voice arouses him further, his hand snake up your body, tugging harshly onto the shirt you were wearing before lifting them up. You could see his eyes were filled with hunger seeing your breasts practically pooling out of your bra.

His lips began to pepper kisses along your chest before latching onto one of the mounds, sucking and biting on it, while his hands playfully massage them, flicking and pinching your nipples occasionally. "Tae wait.. if you keep doing that.. I can't help being loud" you gasped.

"Well then amore, hopefully you can control yourself" he winks up at you before sliding downwards kissing your stomach and placing tepid kisses on your hips.

His trip back up to kiss your lips was nothing short of sweet as he find the familiarity of stripping his jeans off you, picking up your hips so he could also include your underwear in the mix. The moment he heard the thud of the clothing hit the floor, Taemin spreads your legs once more and knelt in front of you with that darn devilish grin of his.

He makes the gesture of shh, placing a finger on his lips before using the same finger and slowly enter your core, causing you to whimper. Taemin chuckles to himself, knowing fully well that you were too bothered and sensitive to have the capacity of being silent. He pumps the lone finger, his head tilting from side to side so he could observe your face and body.

Your hips were bucking like you needed more, a small movement but it encouraged Taemin to add a second finger in, fully in motion of thrusting inside of you, twisting and spreading you to the best of his abilities. Once his fingers hook at a certain spot, he watches your head throw itself back, letting out a loud cough to cover your whimper.

You were seeing stars and your breathing had become so audible, you were convinced floor staff had heard you. You try to look down at your boyfriend pump his fingers into you unforgivingly but seeing the sight of him part his lips and envelop your clit was a sight to behold indeed.

Such sheepish licks, caused a shockwave through your body and all you could think of was trapping Taemin's head in your thighs as you grab his hair, trying to keep him down there until he finished you off.

You could feel the peak approaching as Taemin made good work of his mouth and fingers, making sure he savoured the taste of you while he was down there. But truly nothing could prepare you for Taemin immediately pulling away when you stated how close you were to bliss. Your body barely knew how to react as you let out a little cry, the sudden missing feeling of Taemin on you, made you tremble.

"Please Amore... that was mean.. " you panted, your vision settling to see he was in the midst of changing into the final lilac suit.

"Mean? What's mean is you not using your pretty little mouth"

You look up to see that Taemin had left the blazer and trousers unbuttoned and through his black boxers, perfectly outlined his erection. His body slumped back onto the sofa in the room, beckoning you to move towards him. He chuckles darkly as he watches you naked from the waist down and your shirt rolled upwards, resting on the slope of your breasts. "Here, just in case", he laughs once more, chucking a blanket scarf your direction.

You catch the item, roughly wrapping it around your waist , enough to cover your privates but thin enough to know you were bare under it. In a fluid motion, you crouch down to crawl towards Taemin, settling yourself between his legs. Your hands roam his thighs before meeting at the band of his boxers, sheepishly tugging it down until his dick had popped out, surprising you. "May I taste it... Sir?" your eyes lift ever so slightly.

As if it wasn't obvious from Taemin's hitched breath and the way his cock twitched, hearing you mewl your last word sent chills through his body. The last time you had called him that was the last time he acted as a dominant and where you finally argued with him about feeling like a sex toy rather than his girlfriend in bed. He doesn't recall being disrespectful but is fully aware that he gets in the zone too hard and would punish you equally as his previous bratty submissive partners.

Taemin carefully reaches forward, brushing your hair and holding it to a ponytail with a firm grip. His other hand cups your cheeks, his thumb tenderly brushes against your lips before using his hold on your hair to guide you closer to his aching member.

Without wasting time, your tongue darts out to lick from base to tip before opening your mouth to take him in. "F..fuck y/n"

You giggle despite having your mouth filled as you proceed to bob your head up and down, twirling your tongue and moaning. The vibrations and sensations overwhelm Taemin as his hips jerk upwards, causing your to gag a little. While it didn't deter you from continuing on, it was enough of a sign for him to use your mouth as he pleases.

Taemin roughens his grip on your hair, pushing you down as his hips thrust up. God he missed this. He missed fucking your face, hearing your stubborn coughs as you allow him to abuse your throat like this. He couldn't help notice how gorgeous you were like this. His obedient girl. Something primal triggered within him as he watches you remain strong willed to not pull away, noticing how strings of saliva had began dripping from the corners off your mouth. How he was fucking your mouth had become so messy with slight tears smudging your own makeup and how the slightest hint of your lipstick has tinted the base of his cock. Taemin lets out as hiss as you fully take him in with a pause letting the tip of his member rest at the back of your mouth.

Just because he denied you your orgasm, doesn't mean he doesn't get to finish. He internally swears he will make it worth it. He tries to shift in his seat, so he could lean forward to give a gratuitous slap on your ass as he keeps your head down on him. "Drink me up Amore.. " he grunts every word with a thrust, picking up the pace.

It didn't take long before he mewls your name, coughing and using whatever articles of clothing to dampen the sound escaping his lips. You could feel string after string as Taemin fills up your mouth with his cum. You lap it all up, making sure not one drop is wasted as you lean back to an upright position sitting on your knees.

Taemin lets out a few more coughs, trying to collect himself, panting heavily as he smirks at you. You daintily wipe the corners of your mouth with your finger and offer him a little smile. "I think the fans have finished singing" you note.

Right on queue, the knock finally at the door came, asking Taemin to come out quickly. "I promise to make it up to you Amore" he whispers, his hands cupping your face to place a kiss on your forehead before standing up to finish getting dressed and heading out.

You sat alone in that room, thinking to yourself how you couldn't wait for him to fulfil his promise. You desperately craved his primal side now.

As if the stylists knew something funky went on in the room, they knock, just to make sure, that you were okay for them to come in to tidy up. You cough and hurriedly scoot to where Taemin had stripped you, grabbing your underwear and rushing towards the changing screen, calling them in.

As soon as you finally had calmed down and made yourself modest, you rushed out back to the side stage, making sure you were there for Taemin as he wraps up his final set. You were in such awe and couldn't wait to drown him in affection and congratulatory praises, but your cheeks were downright flushed thinking about the prospects of what happens next.

You were too lost in your own dirty fantasies that you had not noticed Key and Minho standing in front of you, waving and trying to pull you out of your daydreams. "Yah, Lee Taemin, I think y/n is no longer with us" Key calls out to your boyfriend who had just exited the main stage and rushing to hug Minho and Key.

"H-huh?" you mumbled, finally snapping out of your thoughts to see the three Shinee members standing in front of you, smiling however Taemin's was coated with wickedness.

"Wow. You really love him so much that you are in awe huh" Key jokingly scoffs at your direction.

"I couldn't be more proud of him" you giggled, stepping forward to embrace Taemin and peck his lips. "By the way, I didn't put my underwear back on, but the eonnies left you a spare change of clothes" you whispered into his ear.

Taemin chuckles as he pulls away, pardoning himself so he could get changed. Conversations happened here and there and instead of celebrating immediately with drinks and food close by, Taemin had suggested that he wanted to go home first to let his mom know that he was planning on drinking and might be home late and need her to take care of the cats.

This was obviously a lie, kind of. His mom would need to take care of the cats however, due to Taemin's busy schedule, the cats were at her place instead for the weekend.

As the pair of you began to part ways from everyone after an agonizingly painful debate on where to eat, and one heated argument with Euisoo later, Taemin managed to convince his manager that he would like the chance to be able to drive his his girlfriend to the next location and be able to bond with here in peace.

What a fool they were for thinking how cute that sounded because as far as you were concerned, you and Taemin never really made it further out of the carpark.

After waving everyone off, Taemin had hurriedly thrown you into the backseat of his car, jumping in with you with a hungry kiss. "Mmmf, Taemin.. you sure?? Here?" you gasped in between his barrage of kisses.

"Taemin? What happened to Sir" his tone had shifted once more. "Beside I thought you might appreciate the intimacy of a tight enclosed space. Now what was that again about not having your underwear on"

You giggled as you lean against the passenger door, raising your hips so you could pull out said article of clothing from the back pocket.

"How dirty of you Amore, soiling my clothes like this" Taemin whispers, his hands falling familiar to unbuttoning the jeans once more and tugging at them so they just gathered around your knees.

Taemin pulls you off your position and despite the tight area, he manoeuvred you with ease, placing you in front of him bent over, with your hands in the footwell to keep yourself up and your ass in perfect view from his face.

He daringly bites the plump flesh of your cheeks causing you to wince, with his hands once more, teasing your core. Flick. "Amore, listen to me well.." Flick. "Sir desperately wants to fuck you senseless" Flick. "I want this car to shake and be filled with your screams. Okay?" his words were concise but struggled here and there.

He gave a good smack on your ass once more, enough that it stung but that was a sign to get it moving. He had quickly discarded his trousers and boxers, lost in the void of the front seats. Your body shuffled once more to allow yourself and Taemin to be in position where you could sit on his lap, there was not much headroom, but you found yourself leaning back into him, back flushed against his chest

You spat on your hand enough that when you reach down to hold Taemin's member, it was enough lubrication the guide the tip at your entrance, hesitating for a bit.

Taemin however could not wait as he thrusts up, intruding and spreading your open earning a pleased groan out of you. Finally all the tension in your body caved into the pleasure of having Taemin's cock in you. You absorbed every movement as he makes the best effort of plunging in and out of you in a steady rhythm making your bounce on his lap. "Nngh.. sir.. please" you whimpered.

"Please what?"

"More please.."

Taemin secured his arms around your torso, and slightly sinking into the seat so he had the positional advantage to drive himself up in you in a rapid pace. Your grip shifted to hold onto the backrest of the front seats almost holding yourself in place because if Taemin thrusted any harder and you would be either through the roof of the car or half of your body would be over the centre console.

It didn't matter that you were uncomfortable as the euphoric feeling zaps every nerve in your system, overwhelmed by how rough and aggressive Taemin was getting with his pounding. Delicate fingers sneak under your shirt and what could only be described as the man handling of your breasts.

Taemin's name would be the only word left in your brain as he softly whispers sweet nothings into your ear. His hot breath felt like fire against your skin and hearing his shaky breaths and how he moans your name, it sent you wild. "y/n.. y/n.. y/n.. god you. drive. me. insane" he punctuates his words with long and deep thrusts.

Those thrusts came with a price as it it had tickled just the right spots in you evoking a squeal and your walls clenching down on him. You couldn't tell if it was dark out or had your eyes been squeezed shut and you were beginning to see stars. "Taemin .. I mean.. sir.. please fill me up" you moaned, turning your head to look back at him.

He chuckles, pushing your ass up and off it, giving it a quick slap and kiss. "Turn around, I want to look into your eyes as I flood you y/n".

Obedient as you were, it took a few attempts to get to a comfortable position in the back seat as you straddled Taemin, drinking up the sight of how sweaty he had gotten, how his eyes were half lidded shut, equally lost in his arousal. Unconsciously, you began to grind on his shaft, teasing the both of you as his tip poked at your entrance every now and then.

The hot air surrounded the two of you as streams of panting came from both of you. For a small moment, you manage to catch Taemin's eye, filled love and desire. He offers you a soft smile, hand placed on your cheeks. Without breaking eye contact, his spare hand reaches down so he could align himself so in your next grind, he would finally fill you up again, letting out a shudder. Your walls were gripping around him tight and he knew fully well, you two wouldn't last at this rate.

Taemin leans forward to nibble at your collarbone, slapping your ass once more to get you moving as you now bounce up and down, feeling more intense by the minute. He would make you lose your mind even further as me meets your bounce with the thrust, essentially slamming his self into you. His name fell from your lips like a trance, singing his praises and how you craved him.

Your body could barely hold itself together as your body collapses backwards ignoring the fact that your balance was supported by the front two seats, your shoulder resting on either side. Taemin watch your body arches, eyes ogling as your breasts flail with every buck of his hips. His hands get to work. One hand reaches up at your neck, wrapping his fingers around them and applying pressure while the other hand palms at your lower abdomen, sinking lower until his thumb could reach to stimulate your clit once more.

Taemin was more that happy to comply that he would make it up to you. You were a mewling and moaning mess under his control and he could see that you were on the brink of probably causing a scene as your volume was probably leaking out of the car. "Amore.. wait... wait..", you could barely speak out as a scream teared through your throat as you finally reach your release.

Your whole body contorts and honestly, you would have screamed bloody murder if it weren't for the fact Taemin's hands was on your throat and essentially holding you down. Seeing the sight before him unravel, it didn't take long for Taemin to follow suit, releasing his own into you.

There was moment of silence before you felt Taemin's arms snake around you, pulling you back to him. "I think... we should bail on dinner" he breaths out against your skin making you mewl.

"Amore.. we can't keep disappearing on group dinners"

"Fine... but when we get home we need to discuss some safe words before I break you"