#Rihanna ff

[banzonism]

WE FOUND LOVE (In a Hopeless Place)

one-shot

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: romance, fluff, drama, comedy

tags: ceo jk! rich jk! fashion model reader! cute jk! jjk x jjk crossover! slight enemies to lover! friends to lovers!

synopsis: In a string of chance encounters, two people from wildly different worlds, find themselves inexplicably drawn to one another. Maybe the universe has been orchestrating something all along. In a swirl of laughter, longing, and love, they begin to wonder if they have finally found what they didn’t even know they were searching for. The beauty of emerging from brokenness, love blossoming in the least expected circumstances, proving that sometimes, even in the most hopeless places, love has a way of finding you.

words count: 8.6k

notes: this is my first one shot jjk ff ahhh i've been thinking about this plot for a while bc of that one jungkook pic above hehe anyway enjoy reading <3

Las Vegas.

Being a fashion model is a balancing act. It’s not just about walking runways or posing for editorial spreads. It’s late nights rehearsing a flawless walk, early mornings enduring hours of hair and makeup, and constant flights between fashion capitals. You are not a household name like some models, you have made your mark. Campaigns for high-end brands, covers on major fashion magazines, and being a regular on exclusive runways have earned you recognition. Your career is steady—not overwhelming but enough to keep you in rooms where champagne flows freely and the conversation sparkles.

Tonight was one of those nights.

You had been invited by Jung Hoseok, a longtime friend and one of the most talented designers you know, to celebrate his latest collection's success. The show had been a triumph, and you were one of the faces of his collection, walking the Vegas runway in his stunning designs. His exclusive afterparty was being held at a swanky bar one of those places where entry was practically currency itself.

You smoothed the fabric of your dress, a slinky black piece by Versace, clinging to you in all the right places. Its thigh-high slit revealed just enough leg to make heads turn without screaming trying too hard. Your hair fell effortlessly in soft waves, and your Louboutin heels clicked against the pavement as you arrived.

The air was electric when you walked in. Crystal chandeliers hung like jewels from the ceiling, the bar gleamed under dim lights, and the room buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses. Hoseok, in his signature vibrant suit, caught sight of you and immediately waved you over.

“Y/N!” he beamed, pulling you into a hug. “You look stunning as always.”

“Thank you! And congratulations, Hobi. The show was incredible,” you said genuinely. “Every single piece was a masterpiece. You have outdone yourself.”

His grin widened. “You’re too kind, but coming from you, it means the world.”

You settled into easy conversation, sipping on champagne as the night unfolded. Hoseok glowed with pride—not just from the success of his show, but also from something more personal. You raised an eyebrow when he let slip he had been in a healthy relationship.

“Six months, huh?” you teased. “That’s practically married in fashion industry terms!”

He laughed, his grin wide. “I know, right? But she’s amazing. Keeps me grounded, calls me out when I’m being too extra—which is all the time, obviously.”

You smirked, leaning back in your chair. “That’s got to be the longest relationship you have ever had, right? Should we celebrate that too?”

Hoseok gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like you had just wounded him. “Excuse me! I’ll have you know I have had plenty of long relationships!”

“Oh, really? Name one.” you raised an eyebrow, thoroughly enjoying his flustered expression.

“Well…” He paused, clearly scrambling. “There was… uh…”

“That’s what I thought.” you laughed, shaking your head. “It’s okay, Hobi. We’re all proud of you for finally breaking your three-month streak.”

“You’re impossible,” he grumbled, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Maybe I should start giving you relationship advice now, since I’m apparently the expert.”

“Oh, please,” you snorted. “You’re one more text away from being whipped, and we both know it.”

“Fine, fine,” he conceded, holding his hands up. “When are you going to get yourself a man? I’m going to find you someone tonight.”

“Good luck with that,” you muttered, taking another sip of champagne.

“No, I’m serious!” Hoseok leaned in conspiratorially. “You’re gorgeous, successful, and you have taste. What’s the holdup?”

“It’s not that simple,” you replied, sipping your champagne.

“Then let’s make it simple. Tonight’s mission: find Y/N a man,” he declared, clapping his hands together.

“Absolutely not,” you said, laughing.

“Too late. It’s happening.”

He scanned the crowd dramatically, his finger wagging like a radar. “Alright, what about him?”

You followed his gaze to a tall guy nursing a whiskey at the bar. “Probably taken.”

Hoseok squinted. “How can you possibly tell?”

“Look at his hand,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

His eyes zeroed in, and then he groaned. “Oh a ring? Seriously? Why do the good ones always come pre-owned?”

Shaking your head. “Because they’ve been snatched up by people who don’t need their friend matchmaking at parties.”

“Rude,” Hoseok shot back, feigning offense. “I’m doing God’s work here.”

“That guy in the navy suit?”

“Too old.”

“Alright, what about tall and brooding over there?”

“Not my type.”

Hoseok sighed theatrically. “You’re impossible.”

Before you could retort, a shift in the room’s energy caught your attention. The chatter quieted for a moment, heads turned, and the air thickened with a sense of presence. That’s when you saw him.

He stood at the entrance, effortlessly commanding attention in a tailored black suit that hugged his frame perfectly. His dark hair was slicked back, a single strand rebelliously falling onto his forehead. His sharp jawline and piercing gaze were enough to make anyone look twice or three times.

“Wow,” Hoseok whispered beside you, fanning himself. “Now that’s a head-turner.”

You couldn’t disagree. The man was magnetic in a way few people were.

“Oh, you’re blushing,” Hoseok teased, nudging you.

“I am not!” you protested, though your cheeks betrayed you.

“You are. And you know what this means,” he said, grinning mischievously.

“What?”

“You’re going to talk to him.”

You laughed nervously. “Absolutely not.”

“Y/N, come on! Look at him. This is fate handing you a golden opportunity,” Hoseok insisted.

“I don’t even know him!”

“That’s the point. Go introduce yourself. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You hesitated, and Hoseok seized his chance. “I bet you can’t do it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re betting on this now?”

“Absolutely. If you don’t talk to him, I’m telling everyone here that you chickened out.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair, darling. Now, go,” he said, practically pushing you out of your seat.

You took a deep breath, heart pounding as you glanced at the man again. His gaze swept the room, sharp and assessing, before landing briefly on you. Both of your eyes met, and you feel a spark of something unspoken passed between the both of you.

Fine. You could do this. For the sake of your pride—and to shut Hoseok up, you adjusted your dress, squared your shoulders, and took a step forward.

You took a deep breath as you made your way to him. He was seated near the bar, his profile sharp under the dim lighting, exuding an aura that screamed untouchable. His drink sat touched on the counter, his focus distant, like he was counting down the seconds until he could leave.

Alright, Y/N, you got this. Just be charming. Flirty. Casual. How hard can it be?

Clearing your throat softly, you slid onto the barstool beside him. “You know,” you started with a smirk, “it’s dangerous sitting here all alone. Someone might think you’re waiting for company.”

He slowly turned his head to look at you, his brow arching in what could only be described as mild annoyance. “Excuse me?”

You faltered but quickly recovered. “I mean, you’re sitting here like you own the place, but you don’t really strike me as the social butterfly type.”

His eyes narrowed. “And you don’t strike me as someone who knows how to mind their own business.”

You mouth opened and closed like a fish. “I—what? I was just trying to make conversation!”

“By assuming I’m some antisocial loner?” His tone was flat, but the words stung.

“That’s not—” you sputtered, now feeling defensive. “Okay, you know what? Never mind. Clearly, I misread the vibe. Enjoy your night, asshole.”

You turned on your heel, heart racing with a mix of embarrassment and fury as you stormed back to Hoseok.

“You’re back already?” he asked, smirking as he handed you a fresh glass of champagne. “What happened?”

“Oh, nothing,” you said sarcastically, collapsing onto the couch beside him. “Just got verbally smacked by the guy you insisted I talk to.”

Hoseok burst out laughing. “What did he say?”

“That I don’t know how to mind my own business!”

Hoseok clutched his stomach, tears forming in his eyes. “Oh, my God, Y/N, what did you say to him?”

“Nothing bad! I was just trying to be friendly. He’s the one with the stick up his—”

Before you could finish, you noticed the man leaving the bar. He walked toward the exit with the same quiet, commanding air he had when he entered. No goodbyes, no lingering. Just a clean getaway.

“Whatever,” you muttered. “He’s clearly not a fan of parties—or people.”

“Fair,” Hoseok said, still chuckling as two familiar faces joined you. Jihyo and Sana, fellow models and the unofficial queens of industry gossip, flopped onto the couch with the kind of grace only models could manage.

“What’s so funny?” Sana asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder as if she were still mid-photo shoot.

“Y/N just got spectacularly shut down by the Jeon Jungkook,” Hoseok declared, barely containing his laughter.

You turned to him sharply. “Wait, you know him?”

Jihyo’s jaw dropped, her eyes darting between Hoseok and you. “Hold on, that Jungkook? CEO of Resorts International?”

“Oh, that’s his name,” you muttered, sinking further into your seat. “Explains a lot. The guy’s got all the charm of a brick wall.”

“More like a brick wall covered in barbed wire,” Sana quipped, her brows raising dramatically. “I’ve heard he’s impossible to approach—unless you’re an accountant or a cocktail waitress.”

Sana chimed in, leaning forward like she was about to spill state secrets. “You’ve heard the rumors, right? Cold-hearted, doesn’t talk to anyone unless he has to, and supposedly—” she lowered her voice dramatically, “—he’s got a different girl in his bed every week.”

Jihyo nodded sagely. “I’ve heard the same. He’s all business, no warmth. Probably because he grew up as an only child with more money than he knew what to do with.”

Hoseok snorted. “To be fair, you did call him a loner to his face.”

“I didn’t call him a loner! I implied it,” you defended. “Big difference.”

The three of them burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but join in despite your bruised ego.

“Well,” you sighed dramatically, raising your glass, “here’s to tonight. Not exactly my lucky night in the romance department.”

“Hey, it’s Vegas,” Hoseok said, clinking his glass against to yours. “Plenty of fish in the sea. Just… maybe avoid the sharks next time.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you took a sip. If nothing else, at least you had good company to cushion your failed attempts at flirting.

Jeon Jungkook had lived his entire life under a spotlight, but it wasn’t the kind that most people would envy. As the only son of the founder of Resorts International, one of the world’s leading gaming and hospitality empires, he was groomed for success before he could even spell the word. He had grown up surrounded by glitzy hotel openings, exclusive business meetings, and lavish galas where every handshake could seal a deal worth millions.

When his father announced his retirement three months ago, handing over the CEO reins to Jungkook, the world collectively held its breath. The media speculated endlessly: Would the golden boy live up to his father’s legacy? Was he ready for the challenge?

Jungkook had proven them all wrong. In just three months, he already started modernizing the company’s operations, implementing eco-friendly initiatives, and streamlining inefficiencies. But despite his achievements, his reputation among those outside the boardroom was less favorable.

“Cold-hearted.”

“Unapproachable.”

“Stone-faced heir.”

The whispers followed him everywhere, branding him as someone impossible to know, let alone love. In reality, Jungkook wasn’t cold—just guarded. Growing up without siblings or close confidants had shaped him into someone who found comfort in solitude. His reserved nature wasn’t a symptom of arrogance, but rather a quiet reflection of how overwhelming his life had become.

Beneath the sharp suits and calculated demeanor was a man who loved simple pleasures: sketching in his notebook, playing the piano, or indulging in late-night gaming sessions. But no one saw that side of him not his colleagues, not the socialites clamoring for his attention, and certainly not the father who believed his son’s life wasn’t complete without a wife.

Jungkook’s friend Kim Taehyung, the eccentric owner of one of the hottest luxury fashion brands, had practically dragged him to this afterparty. Taehyung had a knack for throwing events that were equal parts exclusive and chaotic, and tonight was no exception.

“You need to loosen up,” Taehyung had said earlier, handing Jungkook a glass of champagne. “You’ve been running that empire of yours like a man possessed. It’s a party, not a shareholders’ meeting.”

“I’m not really in the mood, Tae,” Jungkook replied, scanning the room full of strangers.

“Of course, you’re not,” Taehyung said with a knowing smirk. “But you’re staying. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone interesting tonight.”

Jungkook sighed. Taehyung was relentless.

The truth was, he wasn’t just tired from work. His father had been on his case again earlier that day, pressing him to start dating.

“You’re the face of this company now, Jungkook. People look up to you. It’s time you settled down.”

“Dad, I’ve been CEO for three months. I’m focusing on stabilizing the company,” Jungkook had argued.

“Excuses. You’re hiding behind work because you’re afraid of commitment,” his father shot back.

The argument had left a sour taste in Jungkook’s mouth. Relationships weren’t on his radar right now. He wasn’t against the idea entirely, but the thought of being with someone when he could barely keep his own life in order felt irresponsible.

Jungkook slipped away from the main floor and into the restroom, taking a moment to breathe. The thrum of the party dulled behind the heavy door, and for a few minutes, he could pretend he wasn’t Jungkook Jeon, CEO of Resorts International.

He leaned against the counter, staring at his reflection. You don’t have to stay long. Just make an appearance, then leave. It’s fine.

When he returned to the party, Taehyung intercepted him immediately.

“Where were you hiding?” Taehyung teased, clinking his glass against Jungkook’s.

“Just needed a break,” Jungkook replied. “I was actually about to head out.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Taehyung’s grin widened mischievously. “You can’t leave without at least trying to have some fun. Find someone to talk to. Flirt, even. You’re single, man. Enjoy it!”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Guilty as charged. Now, promise me you’ll stay for at least thirty more minutes.”

“Fine. Thirty minutes,” Jungkook muttered, already regretting it.

He found himself at the bar, sipping whiskey and counting down the seconds until he could make his escape. That’s when you appeared.

“You know,” you said, sliding onto the stool beside him, “it’s dangerous sitting here all alone. Someone might think you’re waiting for company.”

Your tone was playful, your smile confident, but Jungkook could only muster a blank stare. Who starts a conversation like that?

“Excuse me?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

“I mean, you’re sitting here like you own the place, but you don’t really strike me as the social butterfly type,” you continued.

The comment rubbed him the wrong way—not because it was offensive, but because it hit too close to home.

“And you don’t strike me as someone who knows how to mind their own business,” he replied flatly.

Your expression faltered, but only for a moment. “I—what? I was just trying to make conversation!”

“By assuming I’m some antisocial loner?” he shot back.

You stood abruptly, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “You know what? Never mind. Enjoy your night, asshole.”

As you walked away, Jungkook felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t meant to come off so harsh. He was just… out of his depth.

Deciding he’d had enough, Jungkook downed the rest of his whiskey and left the bar. As he walked through the crowd, he couldn’t help but glance back at you. You were sitting with a group of friends, laughing animatedly despite their earlier exchange.

For a brief moment, Jungkook wondered if he’d made a mistake. But then, the weight of his father’s words pressed down on him again. And yet, as he walked away, your voice lingered in his mind.

The warm, familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee hit you as you stepped into your favorite café, the one you always visit whenever you're in Vegas. Normally, this place feels like a sanctuary a calm start to your day with a comforting latte in hand. But not today. Today, the universe seemed to have woken up and decided to toy with you.

First, you received some ridiculous news about your upcoming campaign shoot being delayed, throwing your entire schedule into chaos. Then, in you rush to storm out of the hotel, you had forgotten your purse. Great.

Still, you weren't about to let that stop you from grabbing your usual coffee. A caffeine fix was non-negotiable.

“Medium latte, please,” you said to the barista, already picturing the soothing warmth of the cup in your hands.

“That will be $5.50, ma'am,” he replied.

You instinctively reached into your pocket, only to come up empty. Your stomach dropped. “Uh…” you glanced up sheepishly. “Okay, so funny thing—I left my wallet at my hotel. But I am a regular here. Can I just—”

“Sorry, ma’am,” the barista interrupted, his tone clipped. “We can’t process an order without payment. Policy.”

You blinked, thrown by his sharpness. “I’m not asking for free coffee. I’ll come back and pay, I swear. You can even ask the manager—I’m here all the time.”

“I really can’t do that,” he said, looking uncomfortable but firm. “We’ve had issues before with people trying to…”

You froze. “Are you accusing me of being a scammer?”

“No, no! That’s not what I meant,” he stammered, his face flushing. “It’s just…we have to be careful—”

“Careful about what?” your voice rose as irritation crept in. “About someone who forgot their wallet? I’m not exactly trying to rob you!”

The barista looked ready to melt into the floor when a low, calm voice broke through.

“I’ll pay for it.”

You turned to the source of the voice, and your breath caught.

Standing a few feet away was none other than him—Jungkook. The same man who had practically shut you down a week ago at Hoseok’s party. He looked just as composed and intimidating as before, dressed in a sleek black coat over a crisp white turtleneck, his hair perfectly tousled like he had just stepped out of a photoshoot.

He slid a bill onto the counter without a second glance in your direction. “For her latte,” he said to the barista, who nodded nervously and rushed to complete the order.

You stood there, dumbfounded.

“Wait—what are you doing?” you finally managed to ask as Jungkook turned and headed for the door.

“Paying for your coffee,” he said over his shoulder, his voice casual, like it was no big deal.

“Why?” you demanded, hurrying after him.

He paused at the entrance, looking at you with an expression that was equal parts bored and amused. “Because you looked like you needed it.”

You blinked, caught between annoyance and gratitude. “You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t have to,” he replied simply.

You crossed your arms, planting myself in his path. “Okay, but why? What’s the catch? Last time we talked, you made it pretty clear you don’t exactly like strangers.”

He raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, you thought he was going to ignore you. Instead, he said, “And last time we talked, you called me a loner. So maybe I’m just returning the favor.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. “Wow, you really have a way with people, don’t you?”

He shrugged, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “Look, if it bothers you that much, don’t think of it as charity. Think of it as me doing something nice.”

“Nicer than calling me pitiful,” you muttered under your breath, but he caught it.

His ears turned pink. “You looked like you were having a bad day,” he mumbled, suddenly avoiding your gaze.

For a moment, you just stared at him. There was something unexpectedly, endearing about how awkward he seemed. Like he wasn’t used to small talk or acts of kindness but was trying anyway.

“Well, I don’t like owing people,” you said finally. “So the next time we meet, I’ll treat you. Deal?”

Jungkook looked at you, his dark eyes unreadable. Then, to your surprise, the corners of his mouth lifted into a barely-there smile.

“Sure. If we would meet again.”

He slipped out the door before you could respond, leaving you standing there with your coffee and a strange flutter in your chest.

As you took a sip of your latte, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he wasn’t the cold, untouchable man everyone made him out to be. Maybe… he was just a little awkward. And kind of sweet.

A rare break from your job was the perfect excuse to finally try something new and for some reason, the idea of working out seemed appealing. Maybe it was the influencers you had been scrolling past on Instagram with their perfectly toned abs, or maybe you just needed a distraction. Either way, you grabbed your phone and searched for gyms nearby.

After a few minutes of scrolling, you found a fancy spot that looked promising. The problem? You didn’t have a car. Public transportation in Vegas wasn’t exactly convenient, and walking there in this heat wasn’t an option either.

Then it hit you—You had the solution. You immediately dialed your rich friend, Park Jimin.

Jimin picked up on the second ring, his voice as cheerful as ever. “Y/N! What’s up?”

“Hey, Jimin,” you said, getting straight to the point. “Can I borrow one of your cars? I found this gym I want to check out, but, you know…”

“Oh, absolutely,” he replied without missing a beat. “Which one? The Lamborghini, the Porsche, or—”

“Something normal, please,” you cut in, laughing. “I just need to get there, not cause a scene.”

“Normal? What does that even mean?” Jimin teased. “Alright, I’ll send one over. Consider it done.”

You chatted for a bit longer, mostly about his upcoming projects and his love for the Vegas nightlife, until the conversation took a surprising turn.

“By the way,” Jimin said casually, like he was talking about ordering coffee, “I’m throwing a yacht party this weekend for my birthday. You have to come.”

You blinked. “A yacht party? Like... on an actual yacht?”

“Yes, Y/N,” he said, laughing. “A boat, water, champagne, music—the whole deal. Don’t tell me you’re thinking of skipping it.”

“I mean... no,” you admitted, feeling a little overwhelmed. “It’s just... I don’t think that’s really my scene. You know I’m not exactly—”

“Not exactly what?” he pressed, his tone growing curious.

You hesitated, then sighed. “Well... out of your league?”

“Out of your league?” Jimin repeated, his voice turning sharp, almost offended. “Don’t be ridiculous. I invited you because you’re one of my closest friends. You and Hoseok.”

Jung Hoseok the reason you had met Jimin in the first place. Back when you started in the fashion industry, Hoseok had introduced you to his best friend, and Jimin had been an instant ally: warm, funny, and, despite his wealth, incredibly down-to-earth.

“You’re sure I won’t be awkwardly out of place?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

Jimin snorted. “Awkward? You? This is coming from someone who had zero shame asking to borrow one of my cars five minutes ago.”

You burst out laughing. “Okay, you got me there.”

“Exactly,” he said, his tone softening now. “Listen, I only invited people I trust people I actually like. You’ll have Hoseok there too. It’s going to be fun, I promise.”

And just like that, you could feel the tension melting away. “Alright,” you said, smiling. “Count me in. But if I trip and fall into the ocean, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

Jimin’s laughter rang out like a promise. “Deal. But I’m making you wear a life jacket just in case. The car should be pulling up any minute.”

As if on cue, you heard the unmistakable sound of a sleek engine pulling into the driveway. You peeked out the window and shook your head, smiling. Jimin’s idea of “normal” turned out to be a shiny black Tesla.

“Your chariot awaits,” Jimin said playfully before hanging up.

Grabbing my bag, you headed out the door and slid into the luxurious interior. You had to admit, the excitement was starting to build not just for the workout but for the yacht party. Maybe this was exactly the kind of escape you needed. After all, life had a way of surprising you when you least expected it.

The gym was buzzing with energy as you powered through your workout routine. The rhythmic thud of weights dropping and faint music filled the air, and you were in the zone completely focused. By the time as you finished and moved to cool down, your muscles felt like jelly, but the satisfying kind.

You reached for your water bottle and lowered the volume of your earbuds, the background hum of the gym suddenly sharper. That’s when you heard it—a loud, frustrated, “Shit, what the hell just happened?”

Intrigued, you glanced over. There was a broad-shouldered, standing by a bench, holding a phone that looked like it had lost a fight with a sledgehammer.

It took you a second to process, but when you did, the recognition hit.

“Oh, it’s you again!” you blurted out, your mouth moving faster than your brain.

He looked up, his expression a mix of disbelief and resignation. “Yeah, it’s me again,” he said flatly, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke by orchestrating our third meeting.

“What happened?” you asked, biting back a grin as you nodded toward the carnage in his hand. “I heard something break.”

He sighed, holding up the mangled device. “My phone. It fell while I was working out, and I didn’t see it. Then the dumbbell… well, the dumbbell saw it.”

That was all it took for you to lose it. You laughed, clutching your stomach as his expression shifted from annoyed to downright offended.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked sharply, narrowing his eyes.

“Sorry, sorry!” you managed to say between giggles. “But how do you not notice your phone on the floor? Were you that focused?”

“It was an accident!” he shot back, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t exactly planning to obliterate my phone today.”

“Alright, alright,” you said, holding up your hands in surrender, though the grin stayed firmly in place. “What’s your plan now? Or are you stuck in this gym forever?”

He looked at his watch. “I’ll figure it out. I can call my secretary through this,” he said, tapping the screen.

“Wait,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “I’ll help you out.”

He blinked, clearly taken aback. “You’ll what?”

“I’ll drive you,” you offered, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I still owe you one from the café incident, remember?”

For a moment, he looked skeptical. “You? Drive me?”

“Yes, me. I’m perfectly capable of driving, thank you very much,” you shot back, dramatically rolling your eyes. “Unless, of course, you would d rather sit here like a helpless damsel waiting for your secretary to swoop in and save you.”

He let out a reluctant sigh, finally both of you stepping toward the black Tesla.

“Nice ride,” he remarked casually. You snorted. If only he knew.

As you unlocked the doors, your eyes betrayed you for a moment, flickering toward him. He was the epitome of effortless cool—lean but undeniably sculpted, the kind of build that spoke of hours at the gym but never looked overdone. His plain black tank top clung to his shoulders, revealing toned arms and just a teasing glimpse of a tattoo curling around his bicep. The joggers he wore hung low on his hips, paired with sneakers that looked both practical and trendy. His hair was tousled in that perfect I woke up like this way, and the faint glint of a lip piercing added an edge that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was.

“You know, if you’re going to stare, at least make it subtle,” his voice broke through your thoughts, his lips tugging into an amused smirk.

You blinked, heat creeping up your neck. “I wasn’t—” I started, but his raised eyebrow silenced me.

“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly enjoying himself. “So, do I pass your inspection?”

“Inspection?” you scoffed, regaining your composure. “Please. Don’t flatter yourself.”

He chuckled as he slid into the passenger seat, leaving you muttering under your breath as you got behind the wheel. Why did he have to be so infuriatingly smug and good-looking?

Desperate to change the subject, you asked, “Anyway, do you want breakfast? My treat.”

He blinked, clearly taken aback. “Breakfast? With you?”

“Relax,” you said with a laugh. “I’m not proposing or anything. It’s just food. You eat, don’t you?”

He hesitated, his expression a mix of skepticism and mild intrigue. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. But only because I don’t have a better option.”

By the time you pulled up to the restaurant, he still seemed wary, like he couldn’t quite figure out if you were serious or setting him up for something. But as you both stepped inside, you noticed him sneaking a glance at you, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t as bad as he would thought it would be.

The restaurant was warm and inviting, with a soft golden glow from the lights and a gentle hum of chatter in the background. You both sat across from each other, separated by what felt like an ocean of awkward silence. You buried your nose in the menu, pretending to deliberate over your choices, but really just trying to distract yourself from his presence, which seemed to take up way more space than it should.

Once the waiter took our orders, the quiet felt unbearable. You swirled the straw in your glass like it was the most fascinating thing in the world and finally broke the silence. “So… are you, like, the CEO of your company or something?”

He raised an eyebrow, a sly smirk forming on his lips. “Yeah, I am. Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” you said a little too quickly, feeling my cheeks heat. “Just making conversation.”

He let out a soft laugh, the kind that’s almost more of an exhale. “Not very subtle, are you?”

Both of you started eating then he suddenly leaned forward, eyes narrowing at your phone case. “Wait a minute… is that Gojo?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah, why?”

He tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “You watch that anime?

“Do I not look like someone who would watch anime?”

“Well, you don’t exactly give off weeb vibes.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Excuse me, I’m a proud fan of Gojo Satoru. Who wouldn’t be?”

His face lit up. “No way. Gojo’s my favorite too.”

“Of course, he’s everyone’s favorite,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “But don’t even start about his… you know…”

“Death?” he finished, wincing. “Yeah, that wrecked me. Don’t remind me.”

You spent a solid ten minutes geeking out over our shared love for the character, bouncing theories off each other like you both known each other for years. It was so ridiculous, but for once, the awkward tension melted away.

“See?” you said, grinning. “I’m not that bad.”

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I never said you were bad. Just… unexpected.”

“Unexpected? Like when I tried to flirt with you that night?” you teased him. “And you took it the wrong way?”

His eyes widened, caught off guard. For a moment, it felt like the air between shifted, but before you could process it, he cleared his throat.

“Hey, about that night…” His tone softened, and his gaze dropped to the table. “I wanted to apologize. I wasn’t exactly… polite.”

You blinked. “Wait, you’re apologizing? Like, a real apology?”

He shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “Yeah, I was having a bad day.”

Curiosity got the better of you. “What kind of bad day makes you snap at random strangers?”

He hesitated, fidgeting with his fork.

Sensing his discomfort, you leaned back, trying to ease the tension. “You don’t have to answer. I mean, we’re not exactly close or anything.”

For a moment, you thought he might dodge the question, but then he sighed. “My dad’s been pressuring me to settle down. You know, get serious, date someone, think about marriage.”

That threw you for a loop. “Wait, what? You’re Jungkook—the Jeon Jungkook. Aren’t you supposed to be, like, the king of eligible bachelors or something? I mean… don’t you have a line of people falling at your feet?”

He laughed, a low, self-deprecating sound. “You think, so? But the truth is, I do… mess around, sure, but nothing serious. It’s not exactly what my dad wants to hear.”

"You're bluffing," you stared at him, genuinely surprised. “So… you’re telling me all those rumors about you sleeping around are true?”

“Somewhat true,” he admitted, a small smile playing on his lips. “But they’re exaggerated. Not that it matters, though. My dad doesn’t care about the details—he just wants results.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. “Wow. And here I was thinking you were out there breaking hearts left and right. Turns out, you’re just another guy dealing with family drama.”

“Guess we all have our struggles,” he said.

You leaned back in your chair, letting out a small sigh. “You know, I get it. All my friends are pairing up, getting engaged, or having babies, and here I am... still single. Sometimes, it makes me wonder if there’s something wrong with me.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening in a way that made my heart skip just a little. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “You’re just waiting for the right person. Life isn’t a race, you know? Everyone’s clock is different.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his tone. “Wow, that’s... surprisingly profound coming from you.”

He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I have layers, you know. Like an onion.”

You snorted. “Well, thanks. But really, I appreciate it.”

“I think you’re doing just fine. No one has it all figured out—not even me.”

“Oh, trust me, that part was obvious,” you teased, earning a laugh from him.

You swirled your nearly-empty glass of water, feeling a bit more comfortable now.

“You know, I think we might have potentially be friends if our first impressions of each other weren’t so... well, awful.”

He tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “Yeah, maybe. But then again, where’s the fun in starting off on good terms?”

“Touché,” you said, rolling your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile.

You didn’t realize how much time had passed until the waiter cleared his throat, his third time checking in on us.

“Oh wow,” you said, glancing at the time. “We’ve been here for over an hour. That’s, uh, new.”

He looked just as surprised. “Guess we’re better at this talking thing than I thought.”

As both of you left the restaurant, the crisp morning air hit you, and he glanced at his watch. “My secretary’s on the way. Thanks for the ride and breakfast, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” you said, waving it off. “Consider it payback for the café incident, you know”

As his car pulled up, he paused and glanced back at you. “This was... nice. Surprisingly nice, actually.”

“Agreed,” you said with a grin. “You’re not as big of a jerk as I thought.”

“And you’re not as... well, annoying as I first assumed,” he shot back, his lips curling into a teasing smile.

“Oh, I’m absolutely annoying. Just not to you. Yet.”

He chuckled, opening the car door. “See you when I see you.”

“Or see you never,” you teased, crossing your arms.

He smirked before stepping inside. You watched as his car disappeared down the street, feeling an odd mix of amusement and curiosity swirling in your chest. Whatever this was, it wasn’t what you expected—but something told you it wouldn’t be the last time your paths crossed.

It was the weekend, and Jimin’s birthday had finally arrived. You had spent all morning preparing, carefully selecting the perfect dress a chic yet comfortable outfit that struck just the right balance between effortless and elegant. Jimin had assured you that one of his drivers would pick you up, so you didn’t have to worry about transportation. Classic Jimin, always taking care of everything.

The car pulled up to the dock where you were all supposed to gather before boarding the yacht. The venue was buzzing with an understated elegance soft lights twinkling above, the gentle murmur of waves against the pier, and a cluster of well-dressed guests milling about. Among them, you spotted Hoseok chatting animatedly with his girlfriend. As always, Hoseok radiated charm, while his girlfriend was effortlessly stunning, perfectly complementing his energy.

You also noticed Taehyung, one of Jimin’s close friends. You weren’t exactly close, but you had met a few times at events. With his striking features and magnetic aura, Taehyung always managed to make his presence known without even trying.

You decided to find Jimin to wish him a happy birthday. However, as you approached, you noticed him pacing near the edge of the dock, phone pressed to his ear, his expression a mix of frustration and exasperation. His voice carried easily over the sound of the water.

"Dude, where are you? You’re the only one not here!” Jimin said, his tone sharp but laced with concern. There was a pause, presumably while the person on the other end responded, and then Jimin huffed.

“I swear, I’m gonna tell your mom about this, and she’ll whoop your ass for bailing on my party,” he threatened, though there was an amused edge to his voice. “You’re such a workaholic. Dude, you need to relax for once in your life.”

With that, he ended the call, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair before noticing you standing nearby.

“Oh, hey! Happy birthday Jimin!” you greeted, you stepped closer to hug him. His frustration melted away into his signature warm smile.

“Just an old friend giving me little trouble, something like that,” he said with a sigh, before flashing a grin. “But enough about that. You look amazing. Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” you replied. “Now, you better enjoy your night—it’s your birthday, after all.”

“Working on it,” he said with a laugh before you parted ways.

You wandered back toward Hoseok and his girlfriend, joining their lively conversation about the upcoming festivities. Taehyung had drifted into another group, his dry wit adding a humorous edge to the chatter. The minutes passed quickly, and before you knew it, the yacht began to move. The gentle rocking of the boat, paired with the sparkling city lights fading into the distance, set the perfect tone for what promised to be an unforgettable night.

Jungkook leaned back in his office chair, running a hand through his already-messy hair. His desk was cluttered with files, reports, and his laptop—remnants of a day that seemed to stretch forever. He felt a pang of guilt knowing he would be late to Jimin’s party. Jimin wasn’t just any friend; their bond went way back to childhood, forged through their parents’ business ties and countless summers spent together. Yet here he was, always caught up in work, unable to prioritize his personal life. His mother’s nagging voice echoed in his head: "You should spend more time with your friends. Life isn’t all about work, Jungkook."

The guilt doubled when Jimin called earlier, threatening to tattle to his mom if he didn’t show up. Jungkook could almost hear the smirk in Jimin’s voice. With a resigned sigh, Jungkook finally wrapped up his work and rummaged through his closet. He settled on a crisp white shirt, black slacks, and a sleek blazer that gave off an effortless yet polished vibe. After all, he couldn’t turn up to a yacht party looking like he just crawled out of a spreadsheet.

Thirty minutes later, Jungkook arrived at the dock just as the yacht began to drift away. The warm glow of lights from the boat reflected off the water, and the sound of laughter and music carried across the night air. He stepped on board, quickly spotting Jimin near the bar.

“Finally!” Jimin exclaimed, pulling Jungkook into a brief hug. “I was about to call your mom again.”

“Don’t start,” Jungkook replied, smirking. “Work ran late.”

Jimin rolled his eyes but grinned. “Well, you’re here now. That’s what matters. Come on, let's have fun.”

The two talked for a while, catching up on life and sharing stories. Despite Jimin’s attempts to nudge him toward mingling, Jungkook remained firmly rooted in the comfort of familiarity, sticking close to Jimin and occasionally chatting with Taehyung.

Meanwhile, you found yourself in a different dilemma. After spending most of the evening with Hoseok and his girlfriend, the couple’s dynamic started to feel a bit suffocating. As much as you adored Hoseok, third-wheeling wasn’t exactly your idea of fun. Deciding you needed some air, you excused yourself and wandered toward the deck, the cool breeze a welcome escape from the noise and chatter.

The yacht had stopped, its anchor dropped in a calm, picturesque spot surrounded by glittering city lights on the horizon. The music from inside was still audible but muffled, creating an oddly serene atmosphere.

As you leaned against the railing, staring out at the water, you heard footsteps approaching. You turned your head slightly and froze.

There he was—Jungkook.

The man who had somehow become a recurring character in your life. His presence was almost magnetic, his sharp features softened by the moonlight. He caught sight of you and hesitated for a moment before walking closer.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, his voice low but carrying easily over the quiet.

You raised an eyebrow. “I could say the same about you. Late to the party?”

He let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, work. As usual.”

You nodded, not entirely surprised. “Let me guess—you’re one of Jimin’s childhood friends?”

“Guilty,” he admitted, leaning on the railing beside you. “And you? How do you know him?”

“Hoseok introduced us,” you replied. “He’s the reason I’m here tonight. Well, that and Jimin being very convincing.”

He smirked. “Sounds about right. Jimin’s good at getting what he wants.”

A comfortable silence settled between you for a moment, the distant hum of music blending with the gentle lapping of waves. The two of you weren’t exactly friends, but there was something strangely natural about standing there together.

He turned his head, his gaze meeting yours. “You’re not exactly blending into the crowd yourself. What are you doing out here?”

You hesitated, then smiled sheepishly. “Third-wheeling gets old fast. Thought I would escape for a bit.”

“Fair enough,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Guess we’re both out of place here.”

The night air was cool and crisp as you both leaned against the railings on the quieter side of the yacht. The party was still in full swing on the other side, music and laughter drifting faintly in the background, but here, it felt like you had the world to yourselves. The stars above shimmered in the dark sky, reflected perfectly in the calm water below.

“I just realized,” you said, breaking the peaceful silence, “this is the fourth time we’ve bumped into each other. Is the universe trying to tell us something?”

Jungkook glanced at you, one eyebrow raised in amusement. “Like what?”

You grinned, the words tumbling out before you could stop yourself. “That maybe I’m the girl you’ve been waiting for.”

His eyes widened slightly, clearly caught off guard. “Wow, you don’t hold back, do you?”

You shrugged, laughing softly. “Why should I? Life’s too short for games.” You hesitated for a moment, then confessed, “Besides, I’ve been thinking about you. A lot more than I probably should.”

Jungkook blinked, clearly trying to process what you’d just said. “You’re… straightforward.”

You smirked, playfully nudging his arm. “And you’re stating the obvious. Look, all I’m saying is, I don’t mind hanging out with you. You’re nice to be around.”

What you didn’t know was that Jungkook’s mind was a swirl of thoughts. He wasn’t going to admit it outright, but you’d been on his mind too. Something about you had stayed with him—the way you spoke your mind, the easy banter, and the way you didn’t seem fazed by who he was.

But before he could respond, you straightened up abruptly, suddenly aware of how vulnerable you had just been. “Okay, wow, that was a lot. I’m blaming the alcohol I had earlier,” you muttered, your cheeks warm with embarrassment.

You took a step back, trying to shake off the awkwardness, but the slight sway of the yacht threw you off balance. Your foot slipped, and for a heart-stopping moment, you teetered on the edge.

“Whoa!” Jungkook reacted instantly, grabbing your arm and pulling you back just in time.

“Thanks,” you managed, breathless and slightly shaken.

But before either of you could regain your footing, the yacht gave a sudden, unexpected lurch. It all happened in slow motion.

One moment, you were staring at him, his hand still gripping your arm; the next, both of you were tumbling over the railing. The cold water hit like a slap, stealing the breath from your lungs as you splashed into the dark ocean.

The cold, salty water surrounded you as you struggled to catch your breath, disoriented from the fall. But before panic could fully set in, you felt a strong, reassuring presence beside you. Jungkook's hand reached out, and his voice was calm but urgent.

"Are you okay?" His eyes searched yours, his face just inches from yours, his brows furrowed in concern.

You blinked, feeling a sudden rush of warmth in your chest despite the chill of the water. "I-uh, I am not really a good swimmer," you confessed, your voice shaky.

Jungkook didn't miss a beat. His hand gripped your arm, his touch firm but gentle. "It's okay. Just stay calm. Hold on to me," he instructed, his tone steady, like he had done this a hundred times before. You felt safe.

And for the first time, you were so close to him- closer than you ever thought possible. His face was so... beautiful. The rainwater trickled down his sharp jawline, the moonlight making his features look even more defined. His dark hair, now wet and tousled, framed his face perfectly.

You couldn't help but stare, the way his piercing glinted in the dim light making him look even more striking. How could someone look so perfect, so effortlessly attractive? With a body that was both strong and lean, and that face-it was hard to believe he was actually single. You couldn't stop yourself from admiring how impossibly hot he looked, even with water dripping from his face.

You found yourself almost mesmerized by his lips- those full, kissable lips. Your thoughts started to wander, and before you could stop yourself, you asked the question that had been swirling in your mind.

"Can I kiss you?"

There was a brief pause, a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he gave you a small, playful smile. But before you could process it, his lips were on yours. The kiss was gentle at first, testing the waters, so to speak. But then, something shifted. The chemistry that had been building between you two since the first moment you met exploded in an instant.

The kiss deepened, and neither of you hesitated. The sound of the waves lapping against the yacht, the cool water surrounding you, all faded into the background. All that mattered was the heat of his lips against yours, the way he pulled you closer, your bodies pressed together in the water.

And it wasn't just you who had been thinking about this. He had been wanting this, too. The way you smiled at him, the way you weren't afraid to speak your mind-it had kept him awake at night, wondering what it would be like to kiss you.

Now that you were here, tangled in the water, neither of you wanted to pull away. Time seemed to stand still as you kissed him, the connection between you both undeniable, magnetic. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt completely in sync.

It was messy, it was raw, but it was perfect. Just the two of you, lost in the moment.

He pulled back slightly, both of you still floating in the water. His eyes held a certain intensity, the kind of look that could make your heart race.

"You know," he began, his voice surprisingly soft despite the wild rush of emotions, "I've been thinking about you a lot too. More than I care to admit."

Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart fluttering. The confession was unexpected, yet somehow not. Maybe you’d both been feeling this pull, this magnetic force drawing you closer, even without saying it out loud.

"So, what now?" You smirked, the water now lapping against your skin as you held onto him. "I'm waiting."

He blinked, his brows furrowing slightly. "Waiting for what?" he asked, a playful glint dancing in his eyes.

"Duh," you laughed softly, your voice teasing. "Waiting for you to ask me out."

Jungkook’s lips curved into a smirk, his laughter warm and unguarded. “I don’t even know your full name,” he shot back, tilting his head slightly.

"You don’t need to know my entire life story to ask me out, Mr. Jeon," you quipped, your tone light but daring. “For the record, I’m Y/N L/N.”

He let out a low chuckle, the kind that sent warmth rushing through you despite the chilly water. “Oh, is that how it works?” he said, his voice dipping, playful yet sincere. “Alright then, Ms. Y/N L/N—can I take you out?”

Your heart stuttered, though you covered it with a grin, you said with exaggerated relief. "Yes, you can.”

You both chuckled, the sound echoing into the night air. It felt so natural, this banter, this undeniable chemistry between you.

“I can’t believe this. Of all the things that could happen…”

“You had to save me, and then we both fell into the ocean,” you finished, chuckling despite yourself.

“Well, if the universe really is giving us signs, it’s not being subtle,” he teased, his dark eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

“Yeah, no kidding,” you said, grinning.

Before the moment could stretch any further, you both heard a loud shout from above.

"Y/N! Jungkook! Are you two alright?!"

It was Jimin's voice, and it snapped you both back to reality. Jungkook rolled his eyes but chuckled under his breath.

"Looks like we’ve got an audience," he muttered, before holding onto you tighter.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

As the yacht crew rushed to rescue you, the gravity of the moment settled in.

You had no idea where this unexpected connection might take you, but for the first time in what felt like forever, it seemed like you would stumbled upon something genuine. Something real. Maybe—just maybe—it was love. Against all odds, in the unlikeliest of circumstances, you both found love in a hopeless place.

end.

[forge7menot]

In The Air (Tonight)

Summary: Between MySpace selfies, messy rooms, nights filled with neon lights and thumping music, things get intense. In a blur of dancing, charged glances and a kiss that changes everything, you realize this night might be unforgettable.

Pairings: Patrick x Reader, Tashi x Reader, Tashi x Art

Word count: 2.7k

Content warnings: Alcohol use, suggestive content

Notes: Hi everyone! This is my first time writing a ff but I love Challengers with all my heart so I thought I'd give it a try. English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes don't pay too much attention to them!! Also, I despise the use of “Y/N”, that's why I tried to make it as neutral as I could.

Summer 2006, New York: 10:45 PM

Your room was a mess. Not only were there piles of dresses, colorful crop tops and jeans scattered across the floor like confetti, but you still couldn’t decide what to wear. And it was getting pretty late —at least, too late for your liking一 as the faint sound of “SOS” by Rihanna drifting from nearby bars hinted at the start of another sleepless Saturday night.

“Where’s the mascara?”

“Right in there,” you said, pointing at your makeup bag while your head was still buried deep in your closet. This bra isn't even mine, you thought, picking it up before tossing it on the ground. Tashi was too busy curling her eyelashes to hear the cellphone that had been buzzing for the past five minutes.

"Tash, could you please get it?" you grabbed a pair of low-rise, medium-wash bootcut jeans and looked at them with a satisfied grin before sneaking your legs in them as Tashi’s manicured nail pressed the green button to accept the call.

"We're still not ready," you heard her say and Art groaned on the other end.

"Are you serious? You said that an hour ago!"

"I am, unfortunately. I'll text you when we're finished.” Tashi ended the call before he could say a word.

She's been your closest friend since middle school. It was around that time that she started to invite you to watch her tennis matches on Sunday afternoons, just to hang out later. You've been incredibly supportive of her love for tennis ever since.

She even tried to teach you how to play, which led to you spraining your ankle once—after that, she didn't push you to try again.

However, you were always there at her matches: front rows, holding a big sign with her name on it, rooting for her.

That's also how you met Patrick and Art, Fire and Ice: the two of them were also tennis players, which is why they already knew Tashi very well. The four of you quickly became close after your first encounter at a party, which ended with smoking cigarettes by the beach and engaging in random conversations.

It was quite obvious that Art, the blond one, had a thing for her from the first night you all spent together. You still remember how he was staring at her in awe as she explained to Patrick, the brunet one, how “you can actually build something out of ice while fire just tends to burn shit down”—it was obviously an innuendo to his technique. Art could hardly hide his grin as she tore into it, watching her like he’d just discovered something rare. You wondered if she noticed—or if she was just used to his attention by now.

As for you, you weren’t really looking for a relationship and you’d come to peace with the fact that being single was probably the chillest you’d ever been. At the same time, you couldn’t deny that Patrick was a really cool guy—not just for his confidence and personality, but because he was fucking hot. Sure, he was flirtier with you than with most people and maybe that got under your skin a little. But you often asked yourself if it was real interest or just his way of being; you hadn’t quite decided yet.

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The clock on the dresser blinked 11:10 PM, the glowing digits reminding you both that Art and Patrick were probably rolling their eyes somewhere across town. They’d waited this long, but you knew they’d wait a little longer.

Tashi was finally dressed, wearing a dark blue one-shoulder mini dress and a wide black belt with a large buckle that you’d gladly lent her. She was already pretty tall, but that didn’t stop her from slipping on the black peep-toe heels you two had bought together just a few hours ago. “One thing I like about my height is that ugly short boys can’t even try with me. I can’t hear them at all!” she’d joked in the shoe aisle.

As she carefully helped you curl your hair, you slipped on a white vest-style top with a V-neck. “Do you think I should add a necklace or something?” you asked, gesturing to the empty space just above your collarbones.

“How about that black beaded necklace with the heart pendant your grandma got you for your birthday?” she suggested, turning off the curling iron. “It contrasts perfectly with white.”

“You’re a genius!”

You fastened the necklace, running a finger over the heart pendant, feeling a hint of comfort.

There was just one last thing left to do before leaving the house: post a photo of Tashi and you on MySpace - where, of course, she was placed first in your TOP 8 and you were placed first in hers.

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The two boys had been leaning against the stone ledge outside the club for a solid twenty minutes, watching people trickle in. Art had insisted on getting there early—“in case there’s a line.”

Patrick had rolled his eyes at the time, knowing you and Tashi weren’t even close to ready yet. They’d both checked their phones multiple times, refreshing messages and waiting for a sign. Then, Patrick’s phone buzzed.

He glanced down and let out a low laugh, nudging Art with his elbow. “Look at this,” he said, tilting the screen toward him: a freshly uploaded photo on Tashi’s MySpace page, clearly taken in your room. The two of you were posing in front of a mirror flashing playful peace signs with the caption “NYC nightlife, here we come!”

Art squinted at the screen, his smile widening. “Well, at least we know they’re coming,” he said with a chuckle. “Though judging by that post, they’re not exactly in a rush.”

Patrick shook his head, amused. He put his phone back in his pocket, feigning indifference but sneaking glances at the entrance.

Another ten minutes passed, during which Art fiddled with his phone, checking Tashi’s page and refreshing it as if a new post might appear any second.

Patrick caught him doing it and snickered. “Dude, you’re practically stalking her page. Can you look any more desperate?”

Art shrugged, unfazed. “It’s called keeping informed, man.”

Just then, his phone buzzed again—a new notification. But this time, it was a message from Tashi: “Almost there. Keep your shirts on, boys. ;-)”

Finally, Art spotted you and Tashi across the street, walking toward the club entrance, laughing and leaning on each other as you navigated the crowded sidewalk.

He elbowed Patrick, who looked up just in time to see you both smiling, looking effortlessly glamorous under the city lights.

“There they are,” Art said, relief mixed with excitement in his voice.

Patrick’s exasperation faded, replaced by a grin. “About time,” he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone.

As the both of you got closer to them Tashi smirked, flipping her long brown hair over one shoulder with a dramatic flair.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, boys,” she said with mock sincerity. “Had to make sure the MySpace crowd knew we were out tonight.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Oh, trust me, we saw. Next time, maybe just send us a smoke signal instead.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you shot back with a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the whole situation.

Tashi turned to Art, who was still smiling as he took her in. “You think we look worth the wait?”

Art nodded, a bit too enthusiastically. “Absolutely. I mean, you posted a teaser and everything—how could we not stick around?”

As the two of them were already flirting, you turned your face towards Patrick.

“Hello, sweetness,” he greeted, slipping an arm around your shoulders with a familiarity that felt both bold and strangely comforting. He always called you that—sweetness—ever since you’d mentioned your obsession with the song “Bigmouth Strikes Again” by The Smiths. You weren’t sure if he was teasing you or if he actually liked the nickname, but you didn’t mind it, even if you’d never admit that out loud.

“I hope you still would not like to smash every tooth in my head,” he continued, his grin widening as he quoted the song. His gaze lingered on you, mischievous and a little too pleased with himself.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “I’m not that violent, you know. I’m more of a pacifist.”

Patrick chuckled, giving your shoulder a little squeeze as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Oh yeah? I don’t know. I think you’ve got a bit of a fire in you. A little spark.”

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. “A spark, huh? Guess I’m playing for your team then,” you hinted at the nickname people would always give to him on the tennis court.

“That’s the best decision you could ever make,” he shot back, flashing you a grin that was just this side of cocky. His hand lingered on your shoulder for a moment longer before he finally let it drop, but not before brushing his fingers lightly down your arm. It was a subtle touch, but enough to send a small, pleasant shiver down your spine.

As the four of you finally stepped into the club, you were hit by a wall of sound, the bass vibrating through the floor and up into your bones. The music was loud—really loud—the kind of beat that left no room for conversation, only dancing and shouted exchanges.

Strobe lights and neon beams cut through the darkness, casting fleeting shades of blue, purple and red across the crowd, turning everyone into silhouettes and glimmers. The air was thick with the scent of spilled cocktails (that’s what almost made you gag), mingling with a faint haze of cigarette smoke and the sharp tang of cologne and perfume. People were laughing, shouting, swaying in sync, some raising their arms in time with the music.

On one side there was a raised platform where a few braver dancers were showing off their moves, illuminated by a set of blinding white lights that flickered on and off. On the opposite end, a long bar stretched out under soft, glowing light, bartenders moving swiftly as they mixed colorful cocktails, sliding them to customers.

You felt Patrick’s hand on your back, guiding you gently through the crowd as Tashi and Art led the way, squeezing past groups of people until you found a good spot by the bar.

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You didn’t even know what time it was as you sipped on your Cosmopolitan, comfortably nestled into the soft cushions of the booth, when suddenly you felt Tashi’s hand on your shoulder.

“Everything alright?” she asked, sliding in next to you, nearly out of breath as she tried to recover from the last half hour of nonstop dancing: her cheeks were flushed and you could tell she was enjoying the break just as much as you were.

“Yeah, absolutely. This drink is bomb,” you said, pointing at your glass before downing the last sip. “So, what did I miss while I was out here living my best life?” you asked, giving her a playful look.

“Patrick and Art are still out there trying to one-up each other’s dance moves. It’s… something else. You’re missing quite the show.”

As the two of you were talking, a girl dressed in a bold, sparkly top and a low ponytail approached your booth, her arms loaded with a tangle of neon bracelets. She flashed a wide grin as she held them out.

"Hey, ladies! Care for a little light?" she offered, her voice barely cutting through the music.

Tashi’s face lit up as she leaned forward, picking out a few.

“Oh, these are perfect! Thank you!” She slipped a neon pink one onto her wrist, watching it glow under the lights. You took a couple yourself—a bright blue and green.

“Y’all look amazing, by the way!” the girl shouted with a wink before slipping back into the crowd, leaving you both with your new accessories.

Tashi tilted her wrist, admiring the soft glow. “Okay, this is exactly what I needed to get back out there.” She shot you a playful look, her neon-pink bracelet gleaming as she offered you a hand. “Coming with me?”

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The thump of the bass vibrated through the soles of your heels as you and Tashi weaved your way through the crowd.

You found the two boys near the center of the floor, bouncing with the beat of the music.

The brunet spotted you and Tashi first, his eyes lighting up when he saw the bracelets glowing on your wrists. He flashed you a knowing grin and moved fluidly through the crowd towards you. Art followed his lead and came over too.

“Didn’t think you’d make it out here,” Patrick said with a sly grin, his voice cutting through the bass of the song.

Tashi turned to Art and gave him a wink.

“We couldn’t resist, could we?” she laughed as Art pulled her into the rhythm of the music, his hands gently guiding her into the groove.

You stood next to Patrick, feeling his energy just as strongly as he could feel yours and for a moment the connection was undeniable. The way his body moved with the music was drawing you in: he extended a hand towards you, his fingers brushing against your wrist as he gestured for you to join him.

“Don’t be shy,” he said, a teasing smile curling at the corners of his mouth. Without hesitation you placed your hand in his, allowing him to pull you deeper into the rhythm of the dance.

Patrick was a master of subtlety—his touch, his movements, everything about him felt so deliberate. The music wrapped around you and, for a moment, there was no one else in the room but the two of you.

As you spun into the next move, Patrick’s hand landed on your lower back, the contact warm and possessive as he gently guided you.

In response, you placed your palms on his clothed shoulders. The alcohol in your system gradually made you bolder than usual.

The proximity was intoxicating.

His gaze never wavered from you, his lips curving into that playful, knowing smile. When he leaned in closer the tension was thick and almost overwhelming.

“You’re a natural,” he whispered, his hand now resting at your side, fingertips grazing the skin of your hip. You couldn’t help but shiver at the contact.

“Probably because I’ve got such a good teacher,” you teased him.

Whatever was happening felt more than just a casual connection: the closeness, the unspoken tension, the way you moved together—it all felt too real to ignore.

The air between you felt charged, each beat of the music syncing your heartbeats closer together.

As the song transitioned into something slower, the change in tempo didn’t break the tension—it only amplified it. His breath was warm against your cheek and his lips hovered just near your ear. Your heartbeat was so loud, you thought it might drown out his voice.

“You feel that?” Patrick’s breath was warm against your ear, the words almost like a challenge. You swallowed hard. The music still pounded, but it felt like it was coming from miles away.

“Feel what?” you asked, trying to hold onto control but knowing you were losing it.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your gazes locked. You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words caught in your throat.

Patrick’s lips were so close to yours at that moment.

Your breath hitched as both his hands found the softness and warmth of your cheeks, holding the flesh.

You tilted your head, just enough to close the gap and in a move that felt almost inevitable. His lips brushed yours—soft at first, like a question. You feel that?

When you didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss, one of his hands moving to your neck.

In that moment, everything else ceased to exist: the world outside of the dancefloor—the crowd, the flashing lights, the music—faded away.

The kiss was heady, slow, a direct answer to the question that had been hanging in the air between you two.

When you finally broke away, breathless, your forehead rested against his, both of you struggling to regain some semblance of control.

Needless to say, that night you didn’t fall asleep alone. And you certainly didn’t fall asleep in your bed.

[madelynraemunson]

CALL OUT MY NAME ♛

(Book #2 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Series)

CEO!bachelor!steve × fem!college grad!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 • 18+ | BOOK #1 (e.m.)

Chapter 003: Conflict of Interest

Sure, Vegas is pretty small. But little did you know a town called Hawkins, Indiana is a heck of a lot smaller.

↳ 001 (PROLOGUE) // 002 // 003 // 004 // 005 // 006 // 007 EPILOGUE

CW: slight age gap (steve is 31, sweets is 23) , tension both sexual and emotional, mentions of seggs tr@ff!ck!ng, dark past, profanities, manipulation, that's all i can think of for this chapter; mutual pining

card suits divider by @cafekitsune 🃏🧡

“WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO DO?”

word count: 1.3k words

Chapter 002 recap:

"And the guy next to him?" Isabelle grimaces. "The erratic one with the stripper around his arm?"

Isabelle's lips tighten bitterly.

"That's Eddie Munson... my ex-husband."

♛

CHAPTER 003

“Your WHO?!”

You should've known.

You should've fucking KNOWN. The answers were right in front of you, clear as day.

But how could you have possibly had any inkling?! Eddie is such a common name.

And who's to say Eddie wasn't short for Edwin? Or Edward. Edgar, maybe. And the fact that the man owned a strip club? Isabelle never told you that.

But there were signs for that as well. You think back to earlier.

<< If I had a stripper in my life, I would treat her like a queen. >>

"THAT'S EDDIE?" you speak again. "Steve's buddy Eddie is your Eddie?!"

"Was my Eddie," Isabelle sharply corrects you. "Clearly he's someone else's now."

And without any further thought, Isabelle struts towards the group with her hands at her hips. You storm after her, curious as to where the strong need for confrontation came from.

"My, my..." Isabelle tsks, kissing her teeth. "Just how I left ya, Eddie. In the arms of some raunchy stripper."

<< If I had a stripper in my life, I would treat her like a queen. >>

When the group registers Isabelle, the atmosphere flips.

And it’s as if your whole world is jerked upside down too, watching your best friend’s past unfold before you—a past you thought you knew all about… but clearly didn’t.

"You have some damn nerve coming up to us," Shy Girl is the first to speak up. "After everything you've done."

"You have some damn nerve saying that to me," Isabelle counters with a satisfied smirk. "Wearing my set."

When the epiphany hits her, it's evident that Shy Girl goes through a whirlwind of emotions—denial, annoyance, anger, and perhaps a touch of embarrassment. Slowly, she pulls back, and Steve, ever-so-protectively, steps in, guiding her behind him as he offers his take on the situation.

“You really thought you did something walking up here, huh?” he hisses, a glare fixed on his face that is eerily similar to Isabelle’s. “The last four years mean nothing to you?”

“I can imagine they wouldn’t,” Eddie shrugs. “After all, she thinks of no one but herself.”

“ALL OF YOU put me through hell four years ago," Isabelle counters. "Must be absolute torment seeing a woman win for once in her life, huh?"

"You still with Terry?" Eddie chokes. "Or did you find some other man to use and manipulate? Or did you meet your match this time around and land yourself back in square one? Hence why you're here."

“Elle is doing just fine without you," you gather up the courage to say. "We're here to promote her lingerie line, actually. So you can pipe down."

“Elle?!” Eddie shrieks in disbelief. “ELLE. THAT'S the name you’re going by now?”

“What’s it to you?” you scoff, bitterly crossing your arms.

Your bestie’s ex-husband suddenly backs down. You can tell there’s a lot he wanted to say about the name but couldn’t figure out what.

“Nothin’,” he shrugs, tongue rolling around in his cheek. It certainly is something. “I just think it’s funny.”

“You think everything is funny, Eddie and that’s the problem," Isabelle scorns. "Putting your precious Hellfire Girls before me as they ran me out the club? Setting me up with your 'friend' who legit tried to traffic me? Screwing Chrissy Cunningham because you couldn't resist the idea that your High School Wet Dream finally wanted you after all these years? Putting me in physical and psychological turmoil that took me AGES to heal from?! Yeah...but I'm the devil."

"I never screwed Chrissy Cunningham, okay?" Eddie snaps. "By God, when are you going to let that rest?"

Your eyes trail over to Eddie's friends — and even his wife — all of them having an indecipherable gloss over their eyes. They squirm uneasily, noticeably more uncomfortable now, but still keeping their defensive stances.

BUT WAIT.

"Hold the fuck up," you raise your hand. "We're not going to gloss over what we just glossed over. You mean to tell me you almost got my best friend trafficked?!"

What WAS this life that your best friend lived before meeting you?! And why, after four years, are you just finding out about this now? In a random strip club in Vegas. An environment that now seems way too close for comfort. Could it be...?

"She left out the part where she pressed charges against MY husband and not Terry," Shy Girl barks. "Because she knew Eddie being in jail would entitle her to most of his assets. Makes her look like a goodie-two shoes."

"TERRY TRIED TO TRAFFIC YOU?"

"You know Terry?" Steve questions.

There's an alarm in his gaze, but it begins to illicit a softness the moment your eyes meet his. He raises a tender brow, eager for your input, but it seems you don't play a prominent role in this narrative.

"I know of him," you correct him. "Didn't know he tried to traffic Elle."

"So how'd you fund this business of yours?" Shy Girl questions Isabelle. "Daddy's money? Your leftover stripper money? Eddie's money that your lying ass wrongfully took?"

Your ears quirk up, and suddenly the environment is heavier.

"Leftover stripper money?" you can't help but echo.

"Wait a minute..." Shy Girl smirks. It's a memorable one.

An epiphany clicks as a dark laugh escapes her lips.

"Ohhh, it seems like your little friend didn't know you stripped, huh?What a surprise. You're in for quite the story time, girly."

You watch from the corner of your eye as Steve takes a cigarette break, a jitter in his hands so angry that it's practically seeping from his bones. Everyone else around begins to spew on about a phase in life that seemed so alien to you — all the while Steve's strong hands and delicious occupied lips were at the forefront of your attention.

A part of you feels bad that this is what you chose to hyper-fixate on. But can you really be blamed? Not when he looks like that.

"The courts are undoubtedly a just system," Isabelle snaps you back. "I deserved every penny in that settlement. I told nothing but the truth about my experience. Sorry if that taints the image you have of your husband."

"Funny how you're the one talking about telling the truth," Eddie chuckles. His gaze lands on you. "Wonder what else she doesn't know. Mind sharing with the class? Elle?”

"Even if she didn't know I was a dancer, she wouldn't have cared," Isabelle spits, speaking for you. "Women aren't objects Eddie. Kinda low of you to bag on the women who work for you."

"Who said I was bagging?" Eddie smirks. "What I'm getting at is that you're living a lie. And it's gonna catch up to you eventually, one way or another."

He steps towards his ex-wife with a seemingly newfound confidence, a rehearsed, amateur stance that still bothered Isabelle more than her exterior wanted to admit. You watch as she furrows her brows in retaliation, shaky fists clasped at her sides in rebellion.

"In fact, it looks like the day is here."

"We're leaving," Isabelle announces firmly. "Sweets and I are above this shit. This is the last thing we need."

<< If I had a stripper in my life, I would treat her like a queen. >>

Nothing made sense. Who knew the small, conservative, midwestern town that raised your best friend housed so many dark secrets? It makes you wonder if Isabelle would've even eventually told you this secret if the circumstances were better. It also makes you wonder what else she could be hiding.

You're drowning in your thoughts as Isabelle takes it upon herself to drag you out of the club. As an attempt to ground yourself to this —very odd — new reality, you turn around to get one last look at Steve and his friends.

And much to your surprise, before you can even sneak a glance at him, you notice that Steve was already looking your way too.

🏷️ taglist: @xblueriddlex @angietherose @winchester-angel @aactuaaltraash @hugdealer @hazydespair @frostandflamesfanfic @mediocredreams @bl0ssomanddie @corkadymu @eddiesguitarskills @mrsjellymunson @cadence73 @m-chmcl-rmnc @n-slayaaaaa @corrodedcoffincumslut @kennedy-brooke @micheledawn1975 @maisiepotatobeans @1deverland

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

It started out with a kiss, how did it ended like this?

Pairing/Au: Young!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Rating: +18, NSFW

Summary: You meet Joel at a party, everything is fine, he's beautiful... will it end well?

Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, the story is set in 2004 but there is no Sarah so Joel is a 24 year old guy (calculated on Game!Joel's age) who went to university and has no child, smut, angst, a lot of kissing, meet cute?, sex in public places, risk of being caught, reader has breasts and vagina, she wears shorts, a tank top, heels and a dress, no other description is given of her except that she smokes (it happens only once in the ff though), fingering (f receiving), dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (wrap it up irl!), reader is on the pill, cream pie, alcohol consumption, smoking, infidelity, plot twist, dubcon (I’m putting that here because reader is drunk but not so drunk, she gives explicit consent but you know, just to be sure.), brief Tommy appearance (is that a warning? LOL poor Tommy, love him), pussy pronouns, pet names (mostly baby) a lot of swearing, very small age gap but I'm pointing it out anyway, reader is 21 and Joel is 24, some insert of reader’s thoughts, no happy ending (sorry 💀). This story is inspired by something that happened to me personally so please please be particularly gentle with it (you always are tbh, thanks a lot❤️).

The places are places that really exist, they are in Italy but I still tried to leave them neutral so that you can imagine the setting in several places in the world where there is the sea, at least I hope. Where I live it is legal for beach resorts to organize beach parties at certain times established by law, as for music, the songs mentioned are songs that I personally love, I think that more or less everyone knows them, right? Hashtag Millennials music lol

English is not my first language, no beta or proofreading, apologies for any mistake! 🙇🏻‍♀️

Header and dividers by me, sorry if they look like sh*t, I tried my best 🥲

Archive tags: @pedrostories

“Are you a dream or are you real?”

You roll your eyes, while this guy who has approached you and has been dancing next to you for 15 minutes has grabbed you by the waist and whispered these words to you.

Are men really convinced they can seduce with this bullshit?

You turn around thinking you’ll find the usual maniac face who reaches out with shameless hands.

You’re absolutely ready to tell him to go to hell.

Oh.

He’s a tall guy, probably slightly older than you, messy black curls, scruffy beard and mustache and big, gorgeous brown eyes.

Not bad at all.

But it doesn’t mean you can go by your mother’s favorite way of thinking “he’s handsome so he can’t be evil”, it’s fucking stupid and you know it. She used to allow you to ride in your male friend’s car only because he was so hot and wealthy and his family was well known and respected.

If only she had known… but anyway, he belongs to the past, to a group of toxic people you don't hang out with anymore.

Your eyebrow raises and your mouth tug into the most ironic smile you could possibly pull out.

“I’m not Rihanna, you know? So cut off your bullshit”

He’s surprised and he stands there for a second with his mouth open looking dumb.

And then he’s at it again “You’re gorgeous” he whispers in your ear while the music is pumping hard from the disco speakers you are in and he still holds your waist, pushing you towards him “you are the most beautiful girl in this place”

“Yeah, sure” you reply, with a mixture of irritation and pity. He is visibly a little drunk, he moves awkwardly near you trying to appear sensual when in reality he’s as graceful as a brown bear.

You laugh, shaking your head, at least he’s funny.

You lean in close to his ear to make him hear you better “please leave me, I’m with my friends”

Friends who are giggling behind his back giving you the thumbs up.

You look into his alcohol-blurred pleading eyes and damn, this guy definitely knows how to get something. You feel sorry for him, and he’s cute. If he wasn’t so cute you would already left, no point in beating around the bush. You decide to give him a chance, after all it will be a one night stand at most and you’re single, there’s nothing wrong with it.

He has very large hands that wrap around your hips in just the right way and you love hands, it’s one of the first things you notice in a guy. You’re a sucker for a nice beard too and his beard is just the right length to make you want to feel it rub against your skin.

His lips look great too, plumped and perfectly designed, and his nose… big nose. Oh, yes, another box to tick. Big noses are the best.

You put your hands around his neck, you’re reaching him because you’re wearing the highest heels you’ve ever had. His body feels nice against yours, giving you shiver of pleasure down your back.

He towers over you even like this.

Your hips rub together as you dance and his hands end up on your ass. He grabs your cheeks through your skimpy shorts and give them a nice squeeze.

Wow. Audacious. You like this. It looks like this guy knows what he’s doing, horrible opening line aside.

He asks in your ear if you want something to drink and you accept, he takes your hand and escorts you through the crowd to the bar. You appreciate how he made his way through making sure not to lose you.

He leans over the counter to get the bartender's attention and you take the opportunity to take a peek at his butt. Really nice.

You are at a beach resort’s party that you always go to, it was supposed to be held on the beach but the weather didn't allow it so they moved it to this club a few km away.

You know the dj and the bartenders by name but let him make his moves and order drinks, while you nod at your favorite bartender girl and she gives you a wink and her lip reading says "nice catch”.

He looks all proud while he gives you your glass, his big brown eyes are crinkled at the edges along with his lips curved into a grin. He’s so damn cute when he smiles, you tell to yourself.

He takes a sip and he asks you your name and obviously compliments it. “I’m Joel” he tells you in your ear and he reach out to shake your hand.

You smile back profusely and your eyes glare at his biceps hugged perfectly his white t-shirt.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and you let it out, your friends are still in the middle of the dance floor but you get a text on your phone saying “He’s really handsome, go girl! If you need anything call us, ok? Have fun!”

You roll your eyes grinning, everybody apparently approves.

Within minutes you discover that he’s 24, he studies architecture, plays the guitar and he has a little garage band with his friends and then you shout “Oh my god, I love this song!” You grab his arm and drag him back to the center of the dance floor. Joel doesn’t wait to be asked twice. He bounces next to you to the beat of Mr. Brightside as you both sing along at the top of your lungs. Halfway through the second verse when the song says “it was only a kiss” Joel grabs you in his arms and pushes you toward a pillar that lines the dance floor, surprising you. He slams into you and kisses you, deeply, hungrily, knocking out what little air you have left after dancing.

His tongue enters your mouth forcefully, licking greedily. A little rough and his beard and mustache are lightly scratching your skin but you don’t mind. In fact, the rush of adrenaline as he pushed you made your heart speed at an insane race and the way he slammed you against the wall made you instantly wet. You feel your panties sticking as you kiss him back just as frantically. The best kiss you’ve ever had, you have to be honest, he’s really good.

You’re panting in his mouth, moaning as he insistently rub his hips on yours, you can feel his erection pushing against you.

Fuck, who would have expected it from the clumsy boy who tried to hook you up so awkwardly before?

You can taste the rum and cola he ordered on his tongue and a faint hint of cigarette mixed with the smell of clean laundry and something else, animalistic and sexy, probably his slightly sweaty skin.

His hands are roaming at your body, on your neck, over your shoulders, on your back as you arch into him searching for more friction, and then on your ass again giving another really nice squeeze.

It’s not the first time you’ve kissed someone on the dance floor and it probably won’t be the last but no one has ever made you this feral unless you were completely drunk. You can’t blame the alcohol tonight because you only had one drink, it’s him. He makes you dizzy.

“Wanna talk a little bit outside?” you ask him panting when he pulls away from you to catch his breath.

“Yeah, talk” he says mischievously “of course, let’s go talk”

You laugh, releasing yourself from his grip and tugging at his shirt as you move towards the exit.

He follows you immediately, putting his hand on your back as you walk out. Several people are smoking near the entrance, you pass by a couple of girls who are looking Joel up and down.

You turn the corner and find a fairly isolated spot. You can still hear the music, even if it’s muffled.

You're in the back of the place, he sits on a large wooden crate which likely contained alcohol or equipment and pulls you towards him, between his legs. You take his lips back into yours, lightly nibbling his lower lip and filling your hands with his broad back, caressing it, moving up to his neck.

There is nothing you want more than to feel his tongue dance with yours again, you push gently and he lets you in. You start kissing him greedily, just as much as he did before. His giggle vibrates on your lips “hey, weren’t we supposed to talk?” You laugh looking into his chocolate eyes “oh of course, let me explain better” and you kiss him again, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours.

He’s so damn good.

It's not very often that you instantly feel this good around a guy, much less feel as confident as you do now, but the adoring way he looks at you and his big strong arms wrapped around your body are comforting, they make you feel at ease.

The September air is cool and the place is surrounded by pine trees, you would almost be cold if it weren’t for Joel.

His hand moves to the front of your shorts, sliding it over the zipper and pressing into your crotch. You let out a moan.

“Can I?”

“Yes” you breathe, nodding.

You’re craving this.

He undoes the button and slides a hand inside, making room for himself past your underwear, sliding a finger between your folds.

“Soaked wet, huh?” he murmurs “fucking amazing”

His index and middle fingers move over your clit, rubbing and applying pressure as you bury your face in his neck, sinking your teeth into his flesh, gently, and then licking the part as you feel him twitch beneath you.

You whimper “Fuck, please don’t stop”

“I won’t baby, I’m going to make your little pussy screaming for me” He slides his two fingers into your opening while his thumb continues to work rapidly on your bundle of nerves.

He begins to pump into you, relentless and precise, curling into you, hitting your special spot, his fingers are thick and long and dig into you like they always have.

“You’re squeezing my fingers so good, keep going babe, keep going for me”

You’re bucking your hips into his palm, riding on the edge of your pleasure, trying desperately to not completely lose it because you would want that to last longer but you can’t, you’re literally gushing over his hand after a couple of minutes, he’s too good at it.

He lets you work off your orgasm as he holds you close and softly kisses the skin just below your ear.

“God, Joel…” you whisper.

“It’s okay baby, just let it washes over you… and by the way if we weren't out here right now I would have made you come on my tongue”

“Mmmm i would love to try sometimes” you smile softly at him, eyes still faded by your orgasm. And the thing is, you want more. You’re on his neck again, sucking and licking and you whisper on his skin. Things are heating up so much you feel like you have to tell him so you look into his eyes and just spit that out of your mouth “I’m not doing sex with strangers that I just met, I’m sorry”

For a moment, just a moment, losing yourself into his gaze, you think about reconsider your position.

“I swear to God, this damn dude” you think.

You feel your integrity wavering, just a little.

“Well, it’s not a problem, we can do other things” he says.

You raise an eyebrow, looking at him with a smirk “What would you have in mind, let's hear”

He kisses you again, licking into your mouth, holding you close to his body as he moves his hips against yours, he unzips his pants and awkwardly pulls them down with one hand, pulling his cock out of his boxers.

He takes your hand and puts it on top of it “could you uhm… touch it a little, maybe… if you like”

You feel your edges getting smoothed out, he just made you cry out of pleasure with his fingers and the least you can do is do something for him.

“Why not” you answer lasciviously “it can be done”

It’s big, much bigger than you expected, and it's rock hard. You wrap your hand around it and can barely hold it all. This guy also has one of the most beautiful cocks you've ever seen, it’s unbelievable. You run your thumb over the tip, spreading the precum that's already dripping down his length, and begin to stroke him.

You go up and down its shaft, stopping at the tip, lingering over it and you feel him twitching underneath your touch. “Yeah, baby, you’re so good at it” his voice is low and hoarse, his eyes darker than before, almost all pupils as you continue to work on his big fat cock.

Someone told you before that you’re pretty good at it and Joel seems to agree “Fuck, your hand feels amazing” you smirk feeling proud.

“I have an idea…” Joel whispers, “you could… uh fuck… maybe… use it” he stammers, and you look at him confused not understanding what he means “we already talked about this Joel and I have to admit you have a really magnificent cock but I'm not going to put it in”

“No of course…but you can uhm…wait I'll show you” he opens your shorts again and you get nervous

“What?” what is this guy going to do?

He pulls them down just enough to leave you in your underwear but holding them up for you so they don’t end up on the ground.

He gently takes your hand off his cock and takes it himself, holds it straight and brings you closer “you can keep your panties on, I swear nothing will happen that you don't want” and starts rubbing it on you, on your crack covered by the fabric of your underwear.

You whine “oh fuck” you’re seeing the point of it now and it’s unbelievably hot.

“Use it, babe. Use it to play with yourself” You don't wait long to take the lead, you pick it up again and rub it all over yourself to your heart's content, using its length all over you. Like a big dildo, but better, you can feel every vein throbbing, its heat and wetness through the thin fabric.

It’s almost overwhelming, using his hard shaft to get you off, you squirm as you insist on you clit, letting out moans that sound outrageously pornografic. And he’s getting on the edge too, you can feel it under your fingers and in his deep rasping whimpers that rise from the bottom of his throat.

How did you not think of that? It feels like the most satisfying dry humping you’ve ever done, and you’re a master at it. Your pillow and stuffy animals at home can confirm.

Reaching your peak you clench your jaw and try to stifle the sound of your orgasm, but a long slow moan still makes its way out of you.

“I’m almost there,” Joel whispers to you, his face flushed, his eyes glazed over, you sink a hand into his curls and pull away from him to make him come between your fingers.

His whole body is tense, his mouth agape, he squints his eyes, sticky white streams smear your palm and he comes, throwing his head back.

“Fuck, this was…God” he takes you back in his arms, still shaking as his pleasure run through his entire body.

As soon as he regain the ability to speak you hear his tempting voice whispering in your ear “you liked that, huh?”

“I…more than like it, I loved it” and his laugh vibrates on your neck.

One of your hands is wrapped around his neck while the other is suspended in the air with the mess he just made dripping between your fingers.

You shake it a little and lick the rest, slowly sliding your fingers into your mouth one at a time, running your tongue carefully over each one. He looks at you, mesmerized, “Oh shit, if you keep going like this I’m going to get hard again.”

You giggle and shrug “What am I supposed to do? Wet wipes are in my bag that remained inside”

He laugh “Well, You don't have sex with strangers but you're still cheeky, huh? Good, so uhm… My friends will probably be looking for me to go back home but…can I have your number?” He plead and you say yes, obviously yes.

He takes his phone out of his back pocket waving at you and you grab it, after you’ve fixed your fingers and your shorts, typing down your number. “You know I live 3 hours from here unfortunately but we can manage that I think” he says huskily and you nod.

Yes, you think, I can manage that for you.

It was all so good it felt unreal.

And you know something is actually off when he asks you “do you have a boyfriend?”

Why this question? And why now?

Of course not, you don't have a boyfriend otherwise you wouldn't be here.

It seemed more than obvious to you.

“No, I’m single” you reply, starting to feel really stupid.

And you know something unpleasant is about to materialize between you, a big elephant in a china shop.

You move away from him, scrutinizing his face, feeling a lump in your throat as you ask him with a shaking voice, “Why, you?”

“Oh yes, yes I have a girlfriend” he answers you candidly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world after having done those things with you. Maybe he is even convinced that he did not cheat on her because there was no penetration.

“Are you kidding me? Do you think it’s a brilliant idea to tell me now?” You are speechless.

It’s not like you promised each other something so this confession is unwanted, unnecessary and almost cruel because you were here to have fun and now you feel bad.

And there he stands, puppy dog ​​eyes wide open, like the most innocent person. You would love to slap him.

“It's nothing serious” he dares to say “and we have problems, I want to leave her” blablabla, the usual repertoire of excuses that you have heard a thousand times and that have been passed on to any of your friends.

“Yeah, like I’ve never heard it before… Whatever” You hiss.

“But it’s true, baby!” He whines. He fucking whines, trying to grab your arm “Come here”

“No, we’re done” you take steps back while telling him “go back to your girlfriend”

You can't even look him in the eye anymore "don't text me, okay? I can’t do this”

You feel so dumb and frustrated.

It could have ended there and you would have been fine, it would have been a nice memory.

A guy who made you come twice in a row, great. But then he asked for your number so you thought he could have been something more, like a friend with benefits? A date? Maybe even a boyfriend one day? You’re not one to commit with the first guy you meet but things between the two of you were so hot and steamy and maybe in a little space in your brain you got somehow hopeful about him, that he was someone you could trust.

You don't even understand why he told you that now, to make you feel like a bitch? He ruined everything.

“Yeah…ok” he murmur looking at the ground. He seems really sad, but fuck, too bad for him, you don’t give a damn.

You turn and stride back into the club, looking for your friends.

He follows you inside saying at your back “I’m sorry”

Oh no, you think, you’re not.

You find your friends who immediately notice that you are visibly upset “What happened” asks one of them, taking you to a corner. You look at her and say “Guess what?”

Your friend shrugs and lets out a sigh full of disdain “he has a girlfriend?”

“Fuck yes” you cuss.

Your friend hug you “honey, I’m sorry. Let’s go home, come on” You grab your things from behind the DJ booth and walk out of there. You don’t see Joel on the way out and at this point you don’t want to know where he is.

A couple of days later, you’re at the café having a coffee with your friends. It’s afternoon, it’s hot, and you’re sitting at the tables outside, under white big umbrellas, chatting. There’s a beautiful sun and a pleasant breeze, one of your friend is telling you about a very strange dream she had, and you’re all laughing when your phone vibrates on the table.

It's Joel. What a nerve this guy has.

“Fuck” you hiss and your friends immediately get nervous “what’s going on?”

You roll your eyes and reply “it’s Joel”

“Oh my god” your friend says “and what did he write?”

You click on the notification and read “Hi, I’m sorry about Saturday but I promise my girlfriend and I are over. Can I come visit you so we can talk?”

And you think, “Who can guarantee that? Who can tell me that you don’t have a foot in both camps? I don’t like that. I don’t want that”

Your friends tell you the exact same thing, you live in two different cities, you’ll never know if he really left her, this guy wants to play a double game. It’s always like this.

Fuck Joel.

“There’s nothing to talk about, don’t text me again, please”

Forget about him, you tell to yourself.

Yes, he’s handsome and he made you feel good but no guy will make you his lover. You deserve better and the other girl deserves better too. You don’t even know her but you feel sorry for her.

It’s that time of year again, you’re at the beach with your friends at one of your favorite resort’s beach parties.

You move through the hot, dancing crowd to reach the bar while the dj plays Rock & Roll Queen by the Subways.

You order shots of tequila, salt and lemon, take the salt holder and sprinkle some on the back of your hand just under your thumb along with your friends, you carefully take the lemon slice without dropping the salt and hold the glass in the other hand.

You lick the salt, down the shots in one gulp and pop the lemon in your mouth.

The tequila burns your throat but the lemon gives immediate relief and freshness.

It’s good, it’s all good, it’s your number 4 shots and at this point you’re starting to feel pleasantly drunk, your head is spinning a little and the pounding sound of the speakers makes you feel high but you're still fine, having fun as usual.

6 is your limit, after 6 you’re fucked up.Just another one, you think, and then I’ll stop.

You go back to the middle of the dance floor and hear the beginning of Killing in the name of by Rage Against the Machine. There’s something about this song that makes you feel like you can conquer the whole world, it’s inexplicable but it works every time.

You run to the DJ booth where there are two large, heavy wooden boxes on the sides and you climb onto one of them to dance.

It's kind of like a disco cube, but you're on the beach and if you look ahead you see a stretch of sand and the sea. The dance floor during the day is a basketball court.

A friend of yours climbs up with you while the others watch you from below laughing and dancing.

You sing at the top of your lungs as you dance on the cube and smile at your friends. They are always there for you and they are the closest friends you have.

Your girls are great, the best you could ask for.

You turn to the DJ making a heart with your hands laughing when he does it back to you. You never get bored at these parties and it's certainly also thanks to him and his playlists.

You get off the cube at the end of the song and approach the bar with the girls again.

The last shot is rum and it burns even more than tequila. They serve it with a small glass of pear juice on the side.

You dance some more until you tell your friends you're going away for a smoke.

You stand on the side of the dance floor sitting on a wall, feeling really tipsy but not completely drunk.

You love this place, you always did. It’s like a comforting ritual, coming here every friday night, dancing with your friends, having some drinks, sometimes even hooking up.

You can dress like the hell you want, you can avoid painful heels and stuff, no one has a bad thing to say, you can go dance on the sand barefoot, you can leave your stuff behind the DJ booth without fear of someone stealing it.

You really like dancing, it’s liberating and it’s so much fun.

You throw your cigarette on the ground and put it out under your shoe, then throw the butt in the bin near the entrance.

You head towards the bathrooms, greeting a girl you know, and get in line.

A couple next to you is making out and you think you'd like to do the same with someone.

Damn alcohol, it makes you stupid and horny.

You go into the bathroom and pee, wash your hands, fix your hair and go out. You're trying to get back to your friends when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn around and see a guy who reminds you of someone but you're tipsy, your vision feels a little blurry, maybe you're wrong.

“Hey pretty, would you like a drink?”

You know this voice, you've talked to this dude before. And suddenly you recognize him.

Oh shit.

It’s Joel.

You haven't seen him in a year, he hasn't written to you since you rejected him. You had him relegated to the corner of your brain where you never look, the one where you put unpleasant things to move on.

He’s still gorgeous, with slightly longer hair. He looks at you with a puzzled face because you haven’t said a word yet, probably he doesn’t remember you.

“Are you okay?” he asks. And you answer “yes. yes I’m fine. It’s just… My hair was a different color last year but…don’t you recognize me?”

He raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down. “No…and honestly I feel like a real idiot right now, you’re gorgeous”

It's unbelievable. He didn’t recognize you but he just tried to hit up on you again.

You tell him your name and his eyes widen and his mouth agape: “oh fuck. Oh fuck, it’s you”

“Yeah, here we go again”

He scratches the beard on his jaw “oh well… you’re always stunning” he says, and shrugs his shoulders, raising his arms as if to say “it’s not my fault”.

You don’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted. After all, if he tried again even without knowing it was you, you must really be his type.

Or maybe it's just a coincidence, he wanted someone and you just happened to be in his sights at the right time.

“So? Do you still have a girlfriend?” You ask, crossing your arm on your chest.

“Not anymore” he smirk and and you look at him full of suspicion, furrowing your brows “Is it the truth?”

“Yes, it is.” You’re still in doubt, you take a deep breath while he add “I swear!”

You roll your eyes.

You shouldn’t believe him and you know it. But he’s incredibly handsome and he seems to still want you and last year he kissed you in a way…and then you’re half drunk and that doesn’t help.

“So, do you want something to drink?” And you should just say no, I don’t want anything, turn on your heels and go back to your friends. But unexpectedly your mouth decides otherwise. He smiles smugly and you feel your knees weak. His beautiful brown eyes, you don’t even know how to argue with them as you watch him showing off his puppy look.

Damn Joel, and his eyes.

He puts his arm around your waist and leads you to the bar. You feel like you’re floating in a bubble of horniness.

Pathetic.

It’s the second time and you just lose the ability to say no to him. The way his hand grip around your side, so big and warm, the way he smells clean and minty and slightly citrusy, his luscious hair in which you just want to bury your fingers intertwined with his curls, his lips so plumped and soft that make you hungry…he’s too much and you’re too tipsy.

He orders a shot for you and you drink it, you slide it down your throat like it was nothing.

Joel drags you to the dance floor taking you in his arms, his body pressed against yours and his hands on your back, your hips move in sync as if you both had a muscle memory that had been dormant for a whole year and was immediately reawakened as soon as your bodies met again.

“God, baby, I want you so bad” he whispers in your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth and nibbling at it.

You shiver at the sensation, feeling your head empty and you body overflowing with desire.

“Would you like to take a walk on the beach?” He teases and you nod.

You push your way to the crowd and it’s like a deja-vu that hits you and leaves you numb, he holds you close to him as you walk down the wooden plank path lined with umbrellas and sun loungers that leads to the seashore.

You get halfway down the path when he stops and looks you in the eye “I’ve missed this” If you were completely lucid you’d think that was a bit of a stretch considering you’ve only seen each other once but right now you’re blinded and needy and incredibly horny for him.

He kisses you, lacing his lips with yours, insinuating his tongue into your mouth, feverishly searching for yours. He’s ravenous, just like you remembered him.

You both gasp and when you pull away you laugh softly looking at each other. There is indeed an inexplicable chemistry between the two of you, there is no denying it.

“Shall we sit down?” he murmurs and leads you to one of the loungers.

You continue to kiss as if you were drinking from each other's mouths in a desperate attempt to quench your thirst.

His lips are gorgeous, soft as a feather pillow, fiery as hell, they taste deliciously of tequila and strawberry syrup like the shot you just had.

The music and the crowd are far away, everything around is isolated and silent except for the sound of waves in the distance. The sand has crept into your shoes but you don't care. The sea breeze makes you shiver pleasantly in his arms, it’s all so confusing but beautiful. Joel makes you lie down next to him on the lounger.

You feel so good in his arm, all wrapped around you as he explores every inch of your exposed skin, fingertips a little bit calloused, thick just like you remembered.

The sound and the vibration of his groans into your mouth are so addictive and make you wet instantly.

So wet it’s almost embarrassing.

“I want…” he mumbles and you purr “what?”

“I want to eat you out, babe” he says in a breath

“Here?” Your eyes widen and you feel immediately alarmed. “What if someone see us?!”

“There’s not a soul here, they’re all at the party, no one will see us” he reassures you “If you don’t want it though…”

“Oh no, i want it” you nod repeatedly “I want it so bad” you tug at his shirt looking at him in his damn puppy eyes .

“Okay…” you whisper, still unsure but eager at the same time.

The lounger is is reclined, so it allows you to lean up to your back on the backrest, he lies on his stomach at the bottom of it, with his legs dangling out on either side.

He lifts your skirt and stares at your wet panties. “Still soaking wet for me,” he grins.

You should be ashamed of yourself for indulging in with this guy again? Probably, but it’s not like you give a damn right now. You only want to feel his tongue on your cunt. Playing with your clit.

So you smile, you giggle and let yourself sink into this mess.

He lowers on you leaving a kiss on the wet spot on your underwear and suddenly stick out his tongue to lick it. Just a little flick that leaves you needy and hot.

“Are you going to make me beg for it?” You ask impatiently, your arousal deepening your voice.

He laugh and shake his head “Would you like that?” There’s something a little bit too bold about him, a cocky undertone that you’re not bothered to address right now, you’re still yourself though and you’re not one to do so many ceremonies when it comes to sex.

So you reply “Oh shut up, use this tongue of yours to make me scream already”

He smirks and punctuates “Bossy, huh? I love it” and then he lowers over your pussy and licks again at your panties, a long lap this time, grazing lightly at your clit with his teeth. His eyes are still fixed on yours as his tongue moves over his lower lips, savoring the taste of your cunt “so fucking sweet, babe.”

He slides his fingers into the sides of your panties and slowly pulls them down as you lift your hips to help him.

“Fuck, baby, it’s even better than I thought… I can’ stop looking at her”

His fingers run up your thighs, brushing your skin, they get closer to your center without stopping to stare at it “I was right to want to eat you out last time. God, look at her…” and he runs a finger over your folds “perfect..so perfect.”

You can read eagerness and desire in his eyes, and it makes you feel even less inclined to wait, it’s been a while since anyone's done this to you, your toy is very efficient but you reluctantly have to admit that it's not like feeling a man between your thighs.

He finally presses his lips to your clit and you moan, moan loudly and Joel laughs “You horny little thing”

His tongue runs the entire length of your pussy, from bottom to top and stops again on your clit, swirling above it.

“Yes, oh my god YES”

You should try to be quieter but you can't, not when Joel has decided to devour you, opening your folds with two fingers and dipping his tongue inside you, his nose bumping against your clit giving you shocks of pleasure that shake your whole body.

You squirm and you feel his big hand grabbing your hip, holding you in place “be a good girl, let me do my job” he pulls away from you for just a moment and you can barely see him down there but you can feel every single motion so intensely, his scruffy beard deliciously scratching on your skin so clearly, your senses other than sight so incredibly amplified that you almost begin to appreciate being eat out in the dark, you don’t even care about being busted.

You should really stop walking on this dangerous path but the contrast between the fresh air and Joel's warm mouth is driving you crazy, you feel a ringing in your ears, a tingling sensation that envelops you, you want more.

“Mmm baby, I want to drink you all. I want to dig so deep into you you would think that no one will ever make you feel this good again”

There is an underlaying claim in his voice, a need to be praised and recognized, a need to know for sure that he’s doing the best you can ask for so you heap praise on him, burying a hand in his curls, pushing him into your pussy, bucking your hips regardless his large hand digging in your skin, probably leaving bruised that would be your honor badge tomorrow.

“You’re so fucking great, Joel OH. FUCK. Please don’t stop don’t stop dontstop” and your words die a little in your throat as you try to not fall into his rabbit hole, but it’s too late.

You’re there when he makes his way into you with two of his thick fingers, curling them up, reaching for that inner spot that makes you see stars, knuckles deep into you pumping your pleasure up. His lips close on your clit sucking it into his mouth.

His mouth is soft, experienced, licks and sucks on your butterfly wings in purposeful movements, attentive but relentless as a man starved.

You can feel your juice flowing through your folds, dripping on your thighs and Joel’s tongue searching for every drop of it, digging into your hole, flicking on your bud, caressing your outer lip, you feel like he’s everywhere on you and you’re just seconds away from exploding.

“Yeah baby, give it to me, let me see how wild you can be, let me know how gushed you can get”

Your head spins at the sounds of his words and it gets even worse when his hand moves to your breasts over your top and bra searching for your nipple, his fingertips brushing it while he continues to hold his mouth laced with your pussy.

You whine and tug at his hair, calling his name repeatedly like a litany as he circles around your clit again in sync with his fingers filling your hole and you lay down your metaphorical weapons and indulge in a devastating orgasm.

It washes over you like waves of a stormy sea, making you drown completely into that deep part of you that just wants to feel that exquisite filthy hurricane run over you.

He keeps drinking at you until your body calms down and your moans fade away little by little, giving you back the ability to breathe normally.

“Fuck” you gasp “Holy fucking fuck”

Joel laughs “Something tells me you liked it, don’t you?”

He helps you fixing your panties and comes back up next to you and brings his fingers coated in your juice to your lips, smearing it over them “lick them clean, baby, taste how sweet you are”

You welcome his fingers up to the knuckles, wrapping them with your tongue, sucking greedily “such a good girl for me”

When he makes them pop out of your lips, you move closer to him and hide your face in the warmth of his chest while his hand caresses your back.

You're not thinking about anything, not about your friends who will be looking for you nor about how you should have said no to all of this, your head is only full of what he just made you feel.

And you feel the need to return the favor, the burning desire to taste him like you didn't last time.

You move to the bottom of the lounger, sitting on your heels and letting him lean his back against the backrest like you did before.

“Now it’s my turn.” You coo

“Are you sure?”

“I’m 100% sure” you can glimpse a sparkle in his eyes even if it’s dark as you put your hand over the bulge in his denim cargo shorts “someone is going to have a treat tonight, I’m fucking good at it” you murmur as you rub it over the fabric and he gasps at your touch then smirking and saying “yeah? you think you can handle this in your mouth?”

“You bet I can” you reply, your voice playfully offended.

“Then show me how good you are, baby” he order in a hushed tone.

Your fingers play with the button of his shorts, undoing it an instant later and unzipping, putting them down to his knees as he helps you moving his hips hastily.

Your hand is on his bulge again, massaging through the fabric and you see him swallowing and trying to take a long breath and you can see his pearly white teeth in the dark framed by a his mouth tug into a smile. You lower his underwear as well, just enough to pull his cock out, hard and throbbing already. It’s even bigger than you remembered, the most amazing thick, long, straight shaft you’ve ever seen.

His balls are big too, they hang heavy underneath.

It should belong in an erotic museum or something, someone should produce dildos inspired by Joel's cock.

The prominent veins along its length make you salivate and its big, red, swollen tip immediately compels you to lick it, a little kitty lick just to taste his precum that is already dripping from him.

It’s salty and musky as invades your mouth, it makes you even more needy.

He’s silent, just trying not to lose it already you suppose, the anticipation could be cut with a knife right now, it floats in the air like a thick fog between you.

You wrap your lips around his tip, swirling around it with your tongue, and then you go down on him, more and more, taking all you can in your mouth, it’s heavy and hot and intoxicating, you can deny that you’re imagining how good it would be if he also fills your pussy afterwards. Your cunt throb wildly between you legs as it reaches the back of your throat and your nose bumps into his curls.

You feel tears stinging your eyes and you blink them back along with your gag reflex, wrapping your hand at the base and starting working your mouth over his cock a moment after. Your head goes graciously up and down, licking and sucking, focusing on the redden mushroom.

It might be intimidating for someone but not for you, you’re thrilled by the challenge.

He grunts and whines bucking his hips into you hissing “fuck yeah, suck it baby, just like that… you’re doing so good” his voice sounds like it comes from a cave, deep and raspy.

You take it out of your mouth holding it with your hand and go down to lick one of his balls, it’s a little bit too hairy for your liking but you won’t whine about it. You swirl your tongue around it, take it between your lips and suck, feeling him move beneath you. Run your tongue up from the base to the tip, rubbing it with your hand, up and down on his silky skin coated in your saliva.

You pop it out again and you hold it with both of your hands because it’s this long and big and you can rub the entire length this way, he writhes uncontrollably under your touch and you bite your lower lip, you’re loving making him so desperate. You can even hear it in his labored breathing and you can’t resist going down on his tip again, so red and swollen you could swear he’s about to spurt in your face if you’re not fast enough to get out of the way.

His voice is now so broken and distraught that he can pull off only a sequence of “fuck" and “OH MY GOD” and you’re feeling pride rise in your chest. Still fucking good at it, like you said.

You put it in your mouth again, sucking on it like the most amazing lollipop you’ve ever had and little streaks of saliva slip down your chin, pooling at his base.

You’re probably under a spell because no cock has ever felt so tasty in your mouth, you just can’t stop. And you don’t, until you feel him squirting long strings of semen onto the roof of your mouth and down your throat.

His moans fill your ears as his spending is filling your mouth and your clit ache terribly.

You suck him clean and he relaxes between your lips.

“Fuck, you weren't lying.” he whispers and you proudly reply “I told you so”

“Come here, you little slut” and you laugh ‘cause even this slur feels good. Fuck this guy.

You move in his arms again. You hide your face in the crook of his neck inhaling his scent and he says “Just give me a minute, we’re not done yet.”

You look at him, raising an eyebrow “Oh yeah?”

“As long as you let me fuck you” he says simply “it’s your choice, baby” and those words are enough to make you gushing in your panties again.

“Good job, mister, you asked very nicely” you coo and he smiles taking your lips again in a sweet gentle kiss that feels like heaven.

He’s crumbling your beliefs to not have sex with strangers. Well, technically, he’s not a total stranger and you’re never been so horny before.

The two of you kiss for a while until he asks you to straddle him. You pull his shorts down to his ankles so they’re out of the way and you do. You take his cock in your hand and feel it hardening again, his eyes fixed on you.

You smile mischievously at him as you pull your panties aside and begin to move down on him, keeping one hand at the base of his cock.

You're soaked but you still have to proceed slowly, inch by inch his shaft makes his way inside you, he grunts as he feels your walls widen for him, stretching your core.

He's trying hard to let you do it and not move his hips but you can feel his cock throbbing, it burns a little at first but quickly the sensation turns into a pleasant warmth.

“You’re good?” He asks and you instantly reply “Yes, yes, I feel so full”

“Right, so full of me, baby” he says huskily.

You take a deep breath as you begin to move on top of him, your clit rubbing against his bush, his hand squeezes your hip over your dress, his hand squeezes your hip over your dress, accompanying your thrusts “Yes, just like that, baby, keep going” He’s bucking his hips into you, sinking deeper and deeper into your pussy, you’re on the verge of losing your mind and you just lower your dress and bra and reveal your breasts, you grab his arm and put one of his hands on your breast “touch me” you beg him between moans “touch me, please”

“FUCK” he cuss as he grabs your tit and squeezes it, your nipples rubbing against his palm, you continue to ride him and feel your fluids slipping out of you, wetting your thighs and sliding over his skin.

You place your hand on him, moving it in circles with his, seeking more friction and he takes up the invitation, rubbing harder on your bud.

“You feel so good, so fucking good baby” he groans “go ahead, choke my cock”

You whimper, placing your hands on the lounger and leaning your back backwards while you fasten your pace.

He pushes into you relentlessly, you keep moving swinging your hips, you feel him slamming against your cervix just right in this position, again and again in lewd squelching sounds.

“I'm coming, I'm coming Joel,” you stammer.

“I feel it, I feel it baby, come for me, come all over my cock”

Your cunt clench around him, you feel delirious, totally cock drunk, and yet you can't help but place a hand on your clit, jerking it furiously “Oh my God yes- Fuck - yesyesyes” you’re a babbling mess and Joel too, neither of you are thinking anymore about the fact that you are out in the open and someone might see you, you’re loud and frantic and a moment later you’re gushing over his cock, your orgasm dripping all over him.

“Where do you want me?” he asks in a broken voice

“Inside”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes - FUCK - I'm on the pill” It's true, you started this year due to some period problems you had “Fill me up - just - fuck - fill me up, please” you mutter.

A couple more thrusts and he explodes inside you, painting your walls, squeezing your hips tightly, his fingers buried in your flesh.

He keeps thrusting into you until he’s calm and then slips out and takes you in him arm. You abandon your head against his chest, feeling his seed slowly trickling down and it’s a sensation you never experienced before, you’re not used to make guys come inside but Joel it just felt right. You don’t even feel drunk anymore, you’re drunk on him.

“God darling, that was so amazing,” he whispers as he kisses your hair and holds you tight.

And you smile. You smile like an idiot, a totally well pleased idiot though.

And just when you're thinking that nothing could ruin this moment you hear voices approaching from the seashore, you look at Joel with wide eyes and you dress faster than the light and run across the sand to return to the party. Was it someone returning from a night walk? The police? You'll never know. You stop as soon as you reach the end of the walkway, you look at each other and laugh out loud while you feel your heart beating like a drum in your chest.

“Fuck” you hiss under your breath “I hope they didn't see us!”

“Maybe they enjoyed the show” Joel says mischievously.

You are officially sober after the scare, you slap Joel's arm laughing and rolling your eyes "come on, mister exhibitionist, help me find my friends" You take his hand and you make your way towards the DJ console, where luckily you find the girls again. They all open their eyes wide when they see you come back with him but your smile this time tells them a different story.

They don't even ask you where you were and you rush to apologize for leaving without warning.

They look at each other, still suspicious and you can understand why, they love you and don't trust Joel. Joel for his part smiles at everyone and introduces himself, casual and self-confident as if they didn't know what happened last year.

You talk to them for a bit and you think he really knows his stuff because your friends seem a lot less nervous than before, in the meantime you see a boy with dark hair approaching, he has a mustache and a bit of a beard and features that resemble Joel's.

He taps Joel on the arm and exclaims "Hey! Where the fuck were you?"

Joel immediately turns to him and it's clear that he knows him "Hey Tommy! Um... actually, I was with her"

Tommy shifts his gaze to you and his big dark eyes scrutinize you carefully as he shakes your hand "Nice to meet you, Tommy, this idiot's brother"

Oh.

You didn't know he had a brother, he never told you about him. In your new state of sobriety you realize that you haven't talked about a damn thing.

You were so euphoric that you didn't think about it until now.

Tommy is slightly shorter but just as attractive, you smile warmly at him and he smiles back but then turns back to Joel “me and the others are going home, are you coming?”.

Joel sadly replies “yeah, sure, just give me a minute”.

He takes your hand and you move away from them a little, you look into his eyes and think that maybe you could think of getting lost in that look, despite your lack of faith in relationships and especially in men.

“I have to go” he says squeezing both your hands in his “do you think I can use your number this time?” He has such a sweet look that you can only say “yes, sure” and you kiss him again, feeling like you’re in one of those stupid romantic comedies.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Joel whispers when you break the kiss.

He smiles with his whole face, eyes crinkled at the edges and lips curved into a smirk. He’s so damn beautiful.

You walk back to Tommy and your friends and Joel says “we can go” turning back to you and smiling at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. You feel your knees buckle and a tiny twinge in the corner of your heart at the thought that he lives 3 hours away and you don’t know when you’ll see him again. It doesn’t matter, you think, it’s worth it.

You and your friends grab your stuff behind the DJ booth, say goodbye, and head out to the parking lot. You know they're all waiting until you get to the car to pepper you with questions and giggles.

You feel like you're walking on a cloud.

The parking lot is pretty big and dark at this hour, you hear voices coming from some cars to the left and at first you don’t pay attention, then you clearly hear “Holy shit Joel!” and you stop.

It’s Tommy’s voice and from his tone he doesn’t seem happy.

You stay still without making any noise, hoping that the darkness will come to your aid.

“What do you plan on telling Tess when that girl calls you? Are you going to keep this a secret from her? Are you going to leave her?”

Your heart freezes.

No, not again.

“She’s been your girlfriend for three years, for Christ’s sake.”

You don’t hear Joel’s response, just Tommy screaming.

And you don’t care, he still has a girlfriend. Joel still has a girlfriend, even though he swore he’d dumped her.

You don't need to know anything else. You take your phone out of your bag, scroll through your contacts and block his number.

Your unaware friends have already reached the car and are putting their bags in the back seat. You reach them before they can call you out loud and slide into the back seat next to the bags, while they argue about who should sit in front you close your eyes and pretend to be asleep.

You don't have the strength to admit that you were wrong, you don't have the strength to see them sad for you.

Sometimes life doesn't go the way we want it to, you'll swallow this morsel too in the end. It's just more bitter than you expected.

You're not shaking, it's just a little bit of you that's gone.

[lala-lolly]

Hello! I want to write stories or drabbles. Anything really but I struggle with staying on one 'topic' when I have so much freedom and ideas going through my head.

Feel free to request something that you would want me to write and I'll try my best to deliver and make it good.

I'm very multifaceted/have a wide range of interest that grows every month.

My main interests at the moment:

Kpop- Bangtan Boys (BTS), Stray kids, Tomorrow x Together, Enhypen, Black Pink, and more

Rapper- Icespice, Nicki Minaj, Megan Thee Stallion, Blueface, NLB Choppa, NBA YoungBoy, Kendrick Lamar, And more

Singers- Rihanna, Beyonce, Halsey, Taylor Swift, Katie Perry, Olivia Rodrigo, JVKE, Sabrina Carpenter, and more

Movies/series (kdrama as well)- Too many to mention LMAO

TV shows (kdrama as well)- Same here

If you just ask, I'll let you know if I can write for them. E.g; Q: "Do you write for/about John Wick?" A: Not yet because I haven't watched the movies (don't @ me plz)

Angst, Fluff, Comfort, etc

I'm iffy ab writing smut so that's on hold for a bit maybe suggestive will be the furthest I go. Also for texts ff I'll have to find a good spot that works on this old phone.

POC friendly (I myself am a WOC), I'll try to be as gender neutral as I can unless request to do gender specified. As stated before I am a WOC meaning I am also a (cis)female so it'll be a bit of a challenge to write for other genders but I'll give it a chance.

I'm sorry if this is all over the place, I'm writing this early in the moring. I drunk some coffee to finish up some work so I'm trying to use this energy for something else. If you have any questions lemme know (don't ask anything weird plz)

Also you can call me "Lala" "Lolly" "LaLo" "Lalolly" or whatever (might change my username anyway)

That's all signing out (not really)

-Lala Lolly ☁️🌆🍭

[dabisbratz]

abt me!

sonny, 19, black, aquarius !

likez: nijisanji (oshis: luca kaneshiro, kyo kaneko), cats, sweets, rain, horror/slasher films, dbd, resident evil, COD, silent hill, villains, art, music, purple, sleeping, ice skating, creepypastas, fnaf, analog horror, lip gloss, dolls, teddybears, winter, piercings (6 n counting!), tattoos !

dislikez: people who can’t apply common sense, pickles, fish, summer heat

hobbiez: writing, painting/drawing, singing, daydreaming, editing, gaming (animal crossing, ts4, minecraft, street fighter, mortal kombat, re, ff, twd, kingdom hearts, etc)

fav artistz: the neighborhood, sza, ice spice, BIMBOS, tyler the creator, frank ocean, crystal castles, lana del rey, TV girl, the weeknd, deftones, i monster, megan thee stallion, steve lacey, childish gambino, sonder, aaliyah, korn, doja cat, rihanna, playboi carti, fka twigs, partynextdoor, brockhampton, melanie matrinez, pinkpantheress, beabadoobee, kehlani, lil peep, jazmin bean, the marias, brent faiyaz, nicki minaj, mitski, flo milli, babymetal, nicole dollanganger + more!

lomlz: dabi, tomura shigaraki, satoru gojo, shouta aizawa, katsuki bakugo, hitoshi shinso, eren jeager, konig, simon riley, sephiroth, nanami kento, leon, noctis, reno, luca kaneshiro, suguru geto, uta, rintaro suna, aki hayakawa, vash, nicholas wolfwood, toji fushiguro, draken, genos, light yagami, bucky barnes, steve rogers, isaac foster, jtk, zoro, jake sully, cloud strife, uzui tengen, choso, yuuki anzai + more!

i often use nicknames on other people, if it makes you uncomfortable please let me know!

best way to contact me is through asks n DMS, but i’m a shy person so it might take a while for me to respond to dms! not ignoring you, i promise!

[this-daydream-is-dangerous-13]

Are there going to be any more televised awards or can I go to bed?

Since last year’s VMAs, I have only watched maybe 6 things on live TV (not even this year’s Oscars, which for me is shocking). They were all either for Blondie or H:

AMAs

Jimmy Fallon during the Midnights Manifest week (and a bad livestream of Graham Norton, but no commercials)

Grammys

Brits

I ❤️ awards

GMA announcement of concert movie (for like 10 mins)

And now this. (Also the Rihanna Super Bowl performance but I tuned in just for that with laser-like precision)

And I got a DVR back in like 2004 so I have been able to FF commercials for years but - how did I live like this before? For real: I am so spoiled by streaming. How did we just live like this and watch TV this way?

[nannbeidhh]

About me!

Hi im Nana! Im a 05 liner and I do theatre. Im from Europe, Finland!

I listen to: Stray kids, Aespa, Måneskin, Rihanna, Twice, G-Idle and overall kpop and rap artist!

U can always come yap to me. I do not write any ff or storys (i have tried and belive me, it did not go well)

Love: Nana♡

#yap #europe #kpop #rap #idk what tags to put wtf

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

078 of 2024

Created by dietgrrrl

How many pairs of converse shoes do you own?

None. I just own similar style ones.

Any other names your parents planned to give you?

My dad wanted Joris, but oh well. If I was a girl, I would be named Natalie, Rosalie, Julie or Paulina. Or Mathilda, I heard.

Are you hot?

No, I'm cold.

Which is the most beautiful place you know?

The city in Poland named Slupsk. Very beautiful city and one of my favourites.

What do you work with?

Trains. For real.

Five everyday essentials you never leave the house without?

Phone, keys, wallet, earphones, a small drink bottle.

Have you ever hit an animal with your car?

No, but my dad did.

Favorite ride at the amusement park?

None. I don't like rides.

Favorite beauty essential in your bathroom cabinet?

Shower gel lol. If it smells nice, then yeah.

Do you have many followers on your tumblr?

18 on this one, 80 or something on the main one. I don't really care, I'm too old for that.

Do you tan easily?

No, but I burn easily. Ow.

Are you expecting something in the mail?

Yeah, two packages. All travel essentials.

Do you inspire others?

I don't know, ask them.

Favorite dessert:

Cheesecake, but not American. The European one made of quark is the real cheesecake.

What do you collect?

Pens, notebooks, keyrings, lucky trees, other stationery, memories.

Do you like cats?

I love cats. I have a cat, too.

Are you healthy?

Yea I wish. I have a chronic illness and physical disability.

Have you ever been out of state?

Maybe out of state of mind. I'm European.

Can you always blame your acts on that you were just too drunk?

No. It's the most lame excuse ever. If you cant drink properly, just don't drink, ffs.

Three things you try to avoid as much as possible:

Nuts in food, awful people, wasps.

How many times have you been overseas?

Never. I always stayed in Europe.

Do you use to have someone in mind when shopping for underwear?

No. I don't buy underwear to impress others. Who can see it anyway? My husband and maybe our cat, but she couldn't care less.

Number of jeans in your closet:

I never counted, but much enough.

What accent do you have?

West-Flemish, the whole Netherlands (and the rest of Belgium) make fun of it. But we speak how we speak okay?

Where would you like to live?

I'm fine with where I am.

Do you follow fashion?

No, I don't. What's the point anyway if you want to be just yourself?

Do you have a big butt?

Oh lol. Ask my husband.

Your worst job nightmare is:

Sex work lol. Also retail and cleaning.

Who's the coolest rapper in the world?

Baas B okay :P also Sadistik, he's great and heavily underrated.

Do you count how long you and your gf/bf have been together?

6 years and counting, we're ay past the bf thing.

Have you graduated?

14 years ago.

Should you go to a dance class or a charm class?

What's charm class?

Rihanna or Lady GaGa?

Gaga, she proved she actually can sing.

Do you use fake eyelashes?

Lol no. Maybe I'd do it for lolz.

What's your worst interior design nightmare:

Overloading with colours, styles and unnecessary things.

Which was the last book that really captivated you?

Oh my, how can I choose. Probably Nala's World by Dean Nicholson, a beautiful story of a man who adopted a stray kitten and travelled around the world with her.

What are you wearing today?

Not much. It's Sunday and I don't have to do much outside.

Have you ever been so drunk that the police had to take care of you?

No, but I had my friends do it.

Are you one of those people that often feel sorry for yourself?

No. I just keep going.

Do you have a MySpace? And actually use it?

Does Myspace still exist?

What make up brands do you use?

I don't wear makeup.

What's the last vacation spot?

Poland, coming this year as well.

What's the worst kind of rejection you could give someone?

Any rejection is bad, but being rude is the worst.

Do you have a crush on someone right now?

No. I only have squishes at most.

When are one guaranteed to NOT get laid?

Me not wanting it.

Is there anyone that many people think is hot, but you don't?

Yeah, a lot of people. Mostly celebrities.

How often do you wash your hair?

Two times a week.

Who's your free pass?

I don't understand this question.

Do you sort and organize your clothes in some kind of way?

I do, once in a while. Too rarely, though.

Three persons you would like to thank:

My dad, my sister, my husband.

[musickool]

thank you for the tag @moonshapedbox <3

january: kiss it better - rihanna (dang what a sombre way to start this year.... how most very accurate)

february: magnolia - playboi carti (standing on bidness wbk 💯)

march: super freaky girl - nicki minaj (slutty cunt month, we popping pussy ladies. happy women's month)

april: my love mine all mine - mitski (oh ffs, dont you start)

may: see you again - tyler the creator, kali uchis

june: bad girls - M.I.A (villian era GRRAHHHH)

july: go/xytayalive 2 - kanii, 9lives (what a full circle, this song was literally on repeat last year july lol)

august: who's that chick - david guetta, rihanna

september: telephone - lady gaga, beyonce (starting academic year with a corporate cunty era! how most delightful)

october: xtayalive - jnhygs, 9lives

november: body party - ciara (goddamn how many months am i being a whore???? 2024 aint playin lmfao)

december: drunk in love - beyonce, jay-z (im dead, this whole year is ending with me being a slut, goodfuckingnight-)

i'm tagging @hannatox @chloebff @worldsgreatestsinner @tedsbogusworld @gea-chan96 @sunnythebunny7 @himbosexuality and anyone who wants to join <3

i wanna start a tag game so: let your spotify predict your 2024!

shuffle your on repeat playlist, and the first twelve songs represent your 2024

january- guns and ships- hamilton (idek what this could represent but okay)

february- we fell in love in october- girl in red (PLEASE)

march- say no to this- hamilton (…i have nothing to say about this)

april- castles crumbling- taylor swift ft hayley williams (damnit sad month then?)

may- you’re losing me- taylor swift (FUCK TWO SAD MONTHS?? breakup songs are even worse now that im actually in a relationship. please. better not be accurate)

june- astronomy- conan gray (please stop why am i having so many sad songs)

july- stoned- ed sheeran (oh fuck this)

august- new year’s day- taylor swift (hm okay. idk what to say about this)

september- heather- conan gray (i consider heather to be a happy song AND it’s mine and my partners song so i’m taking this as a good one)

october- 18- one direction (yessss we’re going okay now)

november- king of my heart- taylor swift (YESSS)

december- all too well (ten minute version)- taylor swift (i take it back ugh)

no pressure tags!!- @autumnleavesforwinter @weeping-in-the-willows @swiftieannah @felizusnavidad @jittyjames @anixknowsnothin (please help me get this off the ground, but also if this flops you saw nothing)

[frostythefrostedfox]

REEEEEEE

Liberty, bro, broski, friend, amigo, comrade; stop, sincerely, fucking stop, it was funny the first time, actually it wasn’t that funny, it was midly amusing (actually no, because I was there and I felt like I paid a lot of money to take a 2 hour nap except for that SC that RUS called out with his clarivoyance powers), so you can stop now.

That has to be the most boring snoozefest I’ve had the displeasure to watch.

The crowd was dead, no flags, no signs, no smoke, no anything; HAM over LEC on the 11-12-13 and literally only 3 people standing up, nobody cheering, nobody making noise, I don’t wanna sound like a boomer but I clearly saw everyone (not literally) on their phones, why do you even go to a race if you are not even gonna watch it, now I can see why the tickets were basically pushed on everyone’s faces 2 DAYS before Friday, I can see why they are cheaper than the Gilles Villeneuve tickets, all the invitees were the most “Who?” people to the F1 world, why you keep inviting influencers that aren’t even old enough to have a driver’s license of their own, fashion brands and zoomer tiktok celebrities nobody ever in the racing community has ever heard of.

FFS, the whole weekend felt like a skit from Top Gear.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x7TLt8IYAFc

This is literally how the crowd was acting like, I wish I was joking like they were.

Liberty seems to have forgotten that an F1 race is the main spectacle of the weekend with some stuff that happens around it, not a huge convention/festival for the weekend that happens to have fast cars going zoom zoom around you, this certainly aint the Horizon Festival from Forza Horizon.

Why do we need cheerleaders in the main straight with a (I assume) rapper announcing the drivers as they come out (Who BTW botched some of the names, and I’m not blaming him on that, he just got hired to do a thing and he did it, he seemed like a cool and chill dude, its just that maybe they should’ve given him the cards before and given some directives and instructions to... you know... do a good job and not improvise the whole thing, really, it probably was the first time seeing those cards and reading those names, whose idea was this again?)? Who felt that the thing F1 needs of a parade in cars all the way to the podium? I’m actually surprised they didn’t had “tiktokzoomer#38193″, dream (the youtuber), Rihanna and Chris Pratt handing out the trophies at the podium, really, that would’ve been funnier because at least they would actually show that they don’t care and just want some free clout instead of pretending they do.

I get it, I’ve mentioned it before, peak “Western” business culture of trying to appeal to as many people as you can to make as much money as fast as possible, not caring for the soul of your own product because money will make you happier but damn bro, stop, really, it’s time to stop.

Don’t even get me started on those uncultured swines that stepped up and tried to block and push away none other than Sir Jackie Steward himself like he was just a random attendee and not a living legend, really, why do you keep getting people on board that has absolutely no idea where are they standing and who are the people around them, like fr fr on god no cap bussin on god on god, if you unironically tried to keep Jackie and Brundle from a “VIP” zone in an F1 Paddock, get off there mate, this is not your place, you’re just a tourist

They keep hyping up a really boring track layout filled with no real challenge to it, it only has one slow chicane that doesn’t even penalizes you for not taking it, the whole lap is just waiting for the straights else you’ll be stuck behind for half of the lap, yes the track is wide enough for 4 cars to fit sideways at the same time, but that never happens because absolutely nobody will willingly destroy their tires going on the dirty side of the track, maybe you can try and use them in the first 10 laps, but after that its just dumb, stay behind, save tire by coasting with the aid of the reduced drag and use the DRS on the straights... And to the surprise of absolutely nobody, that’s what everyone does; F1 is not NASCAR, is not even close to IndyCar, you can’t just pull a Lighting McQueen on other drivers because of the high technicality and perfectionism of the sport itself.

So what do we got? A predictable race where absolutely nothing interesting happened, I’m happy for my boy Magic, he’s back on the podium, PER is not budging to RB’s demands of playing full defense like he did in 2021 and 2022, I would say that I was “shocked” at Ferrari’s lack of everything, but I’ve been a fan of the team for about 20 years now, I am used to the dissapointment and getting happy with crumbles and empty promises, and while I’m at it, yes I was extremely happy to see HAM struggle to get P10, and Mercedes overally behaving like a backmarker team thru the weekend, seeing them use an extra set on Q1 just to have a shot of making the cut was hilarious, from world champions to struggling in the midtable, beautifully ironic.

I honestly don’t have any hopes for the LV GP, but at least that one has some historical significance, being that one race Keke won like an absolute Chad to take a championship and then refusing to elaborate and retiring to never be seen again. The only real American GP there will ever be is the COTA race, a great race on a great track that has had some amazing moments all around.

Also what the fuck is that season planning, why you keep making the season be a Wack-a-mole game instead of an organized calendar like it used to be. Call me old timer but I still remember when the season was AUS-Europe-Asia-America-Middle East (Technically that’s still Asia, but you get what I mean), I don’t mind the BAH-AUS-Middle East-Europe-Asia-America-Abu Dhabi arragement we had, I thought it was great to see a mix of great tracks like Silverstone and Spa mixed alongside Baku and France, or China mixed with Singapore, it gave some excitement to it, but seeing a bunch of identical tracks one after another so I can predict who is gonna win before we change to the other layout that I can also already tell who is gonna win is not fun, the mix of fast, slow, technical and lenient circuits was to keep some of the excitement, stop putting all Fast tracks one after the other, all technical tracks one after the other and so on.

[somaligovernment]

Ffs he said he wanted to be just like Rihanna 😭

[cafehyunji]

About Me!

Welcome to my blog! On here I mostly write, repost ff I like, and just in all post random shit post. I go by the name Hyunjin (hun-jin) you can also call me Hyunji, or Jin. I’m a black (Soulaan), non-binary, who studies digital photography, and film making. I do other things besides writing like editing and art, but like writing I try and find the time, and mindset to do those things.

Dislikes !

Pro-Shippers (Some of y’all niggas are nauseating as hell…. and I mean it), Fatphobia, Racists, Homophobia (a bunch of bitches tbh…), ignorant questions, bananas, and a lot of other things.

likes !

Green and brown colored items, Photography, Photocard collecting, digital journalism, Reading, cooking, kpop ( kinda fell off..), volleyball, soccer, hello kitty and friends items, music, pins, cars, flowers, legos ( I have a bad obsession with their collectible sets), funko pops (own mostly marvel ones), baggy clothes, converse, astrology things, and more

Favorite Things (At the moment)

Artist

Rema, Brent Faiyaz, New jeans, A$AP Rocky, Ambre, Ari Lennox, Ayra Star, beabadoobee, Laufey, Beyomce, Childish Gambino, Chloe, Halle, Chloe x Halle, Daniel Caesar, Cigarettes after sex, Tierra Whack, Dean, Victoria Monet, Don Toliver, Frank Ocean, Giveon, Her, The Internet, Iyla, J cole, Kendrick Lamar, Kehlani, Knxwledge, Koffee, Lw Sserafim, Lucky Daye, Luci4, Mac Ayres, Megan Thee Stallion, Metro Boomin, Nct, odd Future, Ph-1, Pinkpantheress, Red Velvet, Sir, Seventeen, Snoh Aalegra, Sonder, Steve Lacy, Solange, Summer Walker, Tyler The Creator, Syd, Tame Impala, SZA, Rihanna, Flo, and more.

Books

Grown by Tiffany. D. Jackson, Concrete Rose by Angie Tomas, Men who hate women by Laura bates , The Girl With Stars In Her Eyes by Xio Axelrod

Games

The Last of Us : Part II, Fifa 23, Red Dead Redemption 2, Final Fantasy, animal crossing, Genshin Impact (the shit is still mid-way kinda fun…)

[weaselbey]

I just broke my back rushing through dinner and washing up to see Rihanna’s halftime show only to find it’s at 11:30 UK time 😫😫 I thought it was at 11:00 !! Ffs

[officeromance-ff]

0. Warm Welcome..

Robyn

February 18, 2016

My eyes danced around the room taking in the hundreds of people dressed in their finest attire. I gently tugged at my ponytail and ran my hand across my bang to make sure it was still smooth. I got many compliments on my appearance but I knew they didn’t actually mean them. 

Once I heard laughter I averted my attention back to the sea of guests and the conversation I currently found myself stuck in. I smiled kindly at the man talking even though I’d stopped paying attention minutes prior; he was looking for investors and I knew I wouldn’t be one of them. The group laughed, smiled, and seemed completely engrossed in what he was saying, I on the other hand, could care less. 

Charity. These people were supposed to be here to discuss the charity, give back to the children who can’t do for themselves. Yet, they’d managed to make the event about their own projects, looking for buyers, instead of the children. Sure, I could be doing the same thing, trying to gain connections and further my career, but this wasn’t neither the time nor the place for that. Unlike them, I actually cared about the charity and understood the meaning behind it. 

Unlike these selfish ass people.  

This was a charity event for starving children and families across the world yet  the guests weren’t too focused on that problem. They were all rich, self absorbed, and too worried about making themselves look good in the eyes of the media. Just one big PR stunt after another. This ball has been a tradition since the magazine had been established so long ago. It’s been put on every year, but as of recently, they haven’t been doing this for the good of the children. Twenty percent of the proceeds go to the magazine, as it has been for the past three years. 

Limelight. 

Limelight is the name of the magazine I work for. Established in 1962 by Elliot J. Johnson at the young age of twenty. The magazine focused on music of all genres, so many aspects of the music industry. Elliot was a self made millionaire who not only built this magazine from the ground up. He was so inexperienced and in over his head he had no idea what he was doing. Yet, he always made sure to give back to the people who needed it the most once he got the magazine off the ground.

He was a kind man and managed to make everyone around him feel like family; a great man to me in the short time I’d known him. He died about three years ago from heart failure and to say it impacted everyone in the worst way would be an understatement. He was nothing but good to his employees and anyone he met. Hell, hired me with no resume as I was attempting to start over. He was the glue that kept everyone together. Now he left it all to his children, twins, Jared and Richard, who’d turned it around and made it better from a financial standpoint. But, they completely ignored husband vision and what he wanted to achieve with this magazine. 

I snapped out of my trance as soon as a woman passed carrying a tray of champagne. I quickly grabbed one once she offered, replacing it with my empty glass. Excusing myself from the ones chatting around me, I thanked her as I made my way to the table where the finger foods were. I hated coming to these events but being the sole photographer of the magazine gave me many obligations I didn’t sign up for. 

“I hate these damn things,” I mumbled, sipping my champagne. I hated the fancy parties and the fake smiles I was forced to throw out left and right. None of these people actually gave a damn about those kids so why should I pretend that I care about them and what they’re involved in. 

 “I’m guessing you hate these as much as I do?” A voice suddenly spoke beside me. I glanced over at the guy but he’d turned around and grabbed a sandwich off the plate. I figured that was my way out of making small talk so I hurriedly picked up my glass and made my way to my seat.

I reached into my clutch, crossing one leg over the other, to pull my phone out. I was met with notifications from my few social media accounts, and messages from no one important. I decided to open Instagram and scroll, liking a few pictures along the way. I wasn’t big on social media, only posting here and there. I had a big following but I had no idea who most of the people were. As I scrolled down my timeline I felt a presence next to me, instantly I tensed up.

“You know it’s very impolite to walk away when someone is talking,” the voice chuckled. I rolled my eyes, apparently when I didn’t respond he took it upon himself to follow me to my seat. 

I could feel the guy burning a whole in the side of my face, “And I don’t think it’s polite to stare,” I state abruptly. I heard a deep chuckle from the figure beside me and decided to look up. 

 He was so handsome. He had a low cut, nicely lined up with the prettiest brown eyes I’d ever seen. Husband completion was a little lighter than mine, and I could see faint freckles splattered across his cheeks. My gaze dropped to his lips, full and pink, causing me to bite down on mine. He was definitely something to look at. I was snapped out of my trance when he began to smile, and boy was it a great smile. 

“Someone’s not  a big fan of these parties,” he finally spoke, rewording his initial question into more of a statement. He had a slight accent but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “You look like your mom forced you to come.” 

“That obvious?” I retort. He nodded and took a swig of the champagne in his hand, “I just don’t see the reason why I have to be here. I could’ve stayed home.” 

“Same here, yet here we are.” He shrugged. “Can I tell you something? The only reason I’m here is actually because my mom made me.” He smiled. 

I actually laughed, “That’s horrible.” 

He shrugged, “I mean, it would’ve been bad if I didn’t come even if she didn’t force me so I guess I had no choice.” 

“What exactly made you come over here and talk to me,” I stated. I raised an eyebrow watching him shrug and take another swig of his beverage. Something about this man was insanely attractive, but I had to keep my composure. 

He smiled,”You looked like you needed some company. And by the way I wasn’t staring, just wondered why the star photographer wasn’t up socializing, networking with these rich people in this room,” his deep voice  spoke. This time I made eye contact with him. Stalker much? I wasn’t the best at socializing so if this was him attempting to make conversation he was very bad at it. 

“Okay, one, how the hell do you know who I am? And two, I’m not very much of a talker. I let my work speak for itself.” Which was very true. I was never the flashy show-off type. I let my work speak for itself and it’s seemed to work in my favor. I knew how good I was, it was up to others if they decided to acknowledge it.

”I know a lot about you actually Ms. Fenty. And I think you’re very talented, I’m a big fan.” He smiled again. 

Damn, that smile. 

“Okay, are you some crazed fan who snuck in here? Cause that’s il-,” I was stopped mid sentence by the microphone being tapped. I turned to see Richard and Jared at the podium, huge smiles on their faces. 

“I hope everyone if having a good time tonight, but we’re slowly coming to the end of the night.” 

“Thank God,” I whispered and the stranger chuckled. It  almost made me smirk. 

“We’re pleased to announce we’ve raised over one million dollars tonight for the starving children all over the world!” The both of them said at the same time. The room erupted into loud cheers and clapping. 

“Settle down, settle down, we’ve got more announcements,” Richard says.

Jared began to speak, “Of course the reason we’re here tonight is to raise money for those children but we also have one more announcement. As you all know, our head of marketing, Sherry, is stepping down from Limelight.” He motioned toward her and once again the room cheered. 

“Sherry was fantastic at her job and had been there 20 years. It was sad to see her step down,” I spoke,”I bet they get some ass to take her place. They love know-it-all’s,” The stranger next to me chuckled. 

“Is that so?” He smiled, raising an eyebrow. 

“We’re proud to announce that we’ve found someone great to take her place, and he’s actually here tonight!” 

I scrunched up my face and looked around. They hadn’t mentioned this to me or anyone at the office for that matter. Everyone in the room seemed just as confused as I did. 

“He has some big shoes to fill, but I think he’ll be up for the challenge.” Richard smiled, it looked fake in my opinion. “So without further ado, we’d like to introduce everyone to our new head of marketing, our little cousin, Christopher Brown!” The room erupted into a fit of claps and cheers as everyone looked around. No one moved so I continued to scan the room for this person. 

Suddenly, the stranger who’d been keeping me company stood up, adjusted his jacket, and that amazing smile spread across his face. He looked down at me, winked, and made his way towards the stage. I watched in awe as he shook hands with my bosses and took his place at the podium. 

Of course. 

“Hello everyone, my name is Christopher  Brown and I’ll be your new head of marketing.” He shot me a wink as he continued his speak. “But you all can call me Chris.” 

I smiled and shook my head, of course I insult someone I’ll have to work with, and he has a higher position than me. As he spoke I watched him. He spoke with so much confidence as if he knew he’d be great at his job.

I smiled and listened. He kept looking at me throughout the speech but I ignored his looks. I don’t just insulted him but he didn’t look phased. Something about this man intrigued me, and I wasn’t quite sure what it was. I know  I’ll  find out, even though I don’t want to.

His eyes suddenly landed on me again and the two of us made eye contact. I raised my glass, welcome to Limelight Chris.

[familyties-ff-blog]

1

 Jordyn 

Time felt as if it were slowing down on purpose. Working and having a 10 page paper due did not go hand in hand. I just knew I had to leave soon if I wanted to be able to get my paper done in time for my class tomorrow. 

  I know this wouldn't be the situation if I hadn’t procrastinated, but let's be honest. Who does their homework the same day they get it? I know I don’t and for that I am now paying the consequences. 

  “Jo, go clean table 5 before you leave.” My manager said to me. I nodded and went to do as told. 

I picked up the tip they left behind and cleaned up the the table. Luckily the group of people weren’t as messy as other customers I normally had to deal with. I hurried up, and went to split my tips with my team before clocking out.

Looking at the time on my phone, I hurried up seeing as to how late it was. I locked my locker and made my way out of the restaurant. My manager had been kind enough to let me clock out early but I had to close the following day just to make up for it. 

  Before going any further, I decided to stop at the coffee shop and get myself a coffee. I knew I’d need it if I wanted to get my work done in time. As I waited for my order to be ready, I got a text from my neighbor. 

  Tell your roommate to lower the music or I’m calling the cops. 

Rolling my eyes, I huffed knowing there was no way in hell I'd be able finish my paper now. I quickly texted back and said I wasn’t home so I couldn’t do anything at the moment. At this point I was glad the coffee shop stayed open all day and night. 

Luckily I had my laptop and the books I needed for the assignment with me, so I sat down after getting my coffee and began to work. I continued to type up my work, hoping that I could finish before my deadline. 

  “Jordyn?” A familiar voice called. I looked up from the computer screen only to find my uncle standing in front of me. He was still wearing his scrubs from work.

  “Hi. How are you?” I asked him as I stood up from my seat. 

  “Im doing better. How about you?” He gave me a quick hug before taking the seat across from me. 

“Stressing but Im okay.” I smiled. 

“Why?”

“I have this paper due tomorrow, I just got off from work and my roommate has music blasting.” I tried to sound as optimistic as I could but it was harder than I thought.

“Can’t you tell your roommate to turn the music down? Its about to be 1 in the morning.” He said as he looked at the time.

“I can, but she won’t listen.” I shrugged.

“Well, if you want you can spend the night over at my place. Im probably going to knock out after I shower so there won’t be anything interrupting you.” He offered.

“I don’t want to intrude.” I said to him.

“You won’t be. Come on take my offer.” He smiled at me. I looked into his brown eyes and reluctantly agreed. I began to pack my belongings away before I could follow him to his car. He didn’t live too far from the college area, which caused the ride to be a lot shorter than I thought.

“Alright, so the guest rooms are down the hall. The office is there for your use, there's plenty of Keurig coffee in the pantry or you can make your own pot of coffee if you like. Anything else you want, feel free to grab it.” He said to me as we walked into his house.

“Thank you.” I smiled at him.

“You’re welcome. Well I'm off to take a shower, so goodnight.” I thanked him once more before I headed to the office so I could finish my work.

It was nearly 6 am when I finished typing up the last cited source for my paper. As I was beginning to go through the spelling check, I heard someone in the kitchen. I saved my document before making my way to the kitchen.

“Good morning.” My uncle said to me. I felt as if my jaw hit the floor as I looked at him.

He was walking around the kitchen without a shirt on. He looked like a living statue carved by Michael Angelo himself.

What the hell was I thinking?

“Morning.” I regained myself and took a seat on the stool by the island.

“How's your paper going?” He asked me as he poured a cup of coffee.

“I'm done.” I smiled.

“That's good, here.” He handed me the cup along with the sugar and creamer.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Im about to make some pancakes. Want some?” He asked me. I began to fix my coffee. 

"Yes please." I was hungry and tired. I hadn't slept well due to work and my roommate.

"What time is your class today?" He asked me.

"At 8. Then I have another class at 4, and work again from 6-2." I said to him.

"When do you find time to sleep?" He asked me.

"Between classes. Tomorrow I don't have class until 1 and I don't work so there's that." He nodded and began to make the pancakes for us.

He moved around the kitchen effortlessly while he made breakfast. I had to stop myself from staring at him.

"Well if you ever need a quiet space, you're welcome to come over whenever you want." He offered.

"Again thanks. I really appreciate this." I said to him. He handed me a plate with a short stack of pancakes.

"You're welcome, if you need a ride to school or anything let me know." I began to eat breakfast.

As soon as I was done eating, I asked for a ride back to my place. I needed to shower and change before my class began.

"Not to be rude, but couldn't you call your boyfriend and asked to stay at his place?" He asked me as he drove to my apartment.

"I don't have a boyfriend." I said to him. He looked took a quick glance at me but didn't say anything else to me.

"Thank you." I said to him as he pulled up to the apartment complex.

"You're welcome. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you. I'm always here to help you." He said to me.

Oh there is something you can do... Ugh. Stop with the inappropriate thoughts.