#so like. the only options are for people to think I’m a man dressing like a woman or a woman who’s manly

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

assigned he/him at work now 😔

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

THE THINGS YOU DO FOR LOVE... ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.

word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, entirely sfw!! (i feel like i have to specify that…), reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3

a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress

”— no.”

the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.

but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.

”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”

”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”

”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”

”not happening.”

”but —”

”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”

it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him. 

but giving in just isn’t an option, this time. 

under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.

(his happiness is your priority, after all.)

but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.

he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.

”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”

a sharp scoff flows from your lips. 

he can’t be serious. 

you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.

— it’s so frilly. 

you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice. 

it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week. 

every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.

from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.

(this made me think of you. i want you to have it. 

i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)

a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him. 

buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could. 

(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)

which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package — 

to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.

— and then your mind screeched to a halt. 

the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —

you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit. 

if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards. 

but no — he wanted you to wear it. 

and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.

”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”

”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.

”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?” 

sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.

the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.

a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too. 

”— because you love me?” 

satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.

and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly. 

valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”

”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?” 

(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)

”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”

satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble — 

until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.

”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.

”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.

and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak — 

but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.

satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.

and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer. 

”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?” 

attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly. 

it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows. 

”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”

”an hour? no way!” you scoff.

and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.

”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”

”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”

”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”

oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t. 

not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love. 

another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”

satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”

a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”

”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”

another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”

satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”

a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.

”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”

”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”

the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.

”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”

he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.

(even if you don’t.)

and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all. 

and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.

— a sigh. 

you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant. 

… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this… 

and if it’s just for a short while…

silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.

”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”

”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate. 

and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.

”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry. 

he looks so earnestly giddy.

eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.

(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)

”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.

”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.

a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…

”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.

”really? i think it’s cute, though.” 

”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”

satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.

you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”

”— i’m taking pictures.”

…

the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.

”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”

”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”

stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.

”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”

you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”

”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.

(what have you gotten yourself into?)

with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”

”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”

”yeah, yeah…”

the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.

(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)

and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings. 

it’s a perfect fit. 

a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.

after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit. 

and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.

it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves. 

and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute. 

still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.

(what the hell are you even doing?)

a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?

(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?) 

”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.

”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”

satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.

(all he can think of is you, you, you.)

curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.

you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.

when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.

 ”… i don’t want to.”

satoru pauses. 

he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.

”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”

you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”

a moment passes.

”… do i have to?”

the corners of his lips curl up.

ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”

a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.

until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.

it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.

(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)

there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together. 

and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.

after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”

— but satoru doesn’t answer. 

he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.

the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear. 

(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected. 

still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.) 

”… why aren’t you saying anything?” 

the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet. 

he’s completely stunned. 

no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck. 

and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.

crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.

”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy. 

upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.

— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.

it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.

god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.

crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal. 

even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.

and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears. 

yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.

he’s so cute.

(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)

so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.

and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.

”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”

satoru stiffens. 

(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)

slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle. 

with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration. 

satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.

a moment passes. then two.

then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.

”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”

a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look. 

a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.

all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.

evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression. 

”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.” 

squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear. 

a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”

”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.

”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”

a huff, lighthearted. 

suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.

your heart flutters. 

satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet. 

”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”

a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”

”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”

before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.

”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”

a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”

satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.

(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)

”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all. 

it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.

”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips. 

”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins. 

then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.

his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin. 

(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)

then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.

his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin. 

”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.

he’s so annoying. 

(but you’re far too in love to say no.)

so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.

satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.

when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.

”cutie.”

you blink. 

averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.

”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”

suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”

”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”

”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.

”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile. 

”and then we’re burning it.”

”noooo!” 

”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.

”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”

”that’s kinda the point, toru.”

”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”

he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.

”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”

a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”

”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”

”at lil’ old me? really?”

”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”

satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”

a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.

”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”

”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”

”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”

and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible. 

satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.

in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there. 

eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.

satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful — 

and yours, wholly and thoroughly.

(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…

what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)

[lucysarah-c]

"Those are my fries, and those are yours,"

"Come on! Does it really make a difference if I take just one?" You retorted.

"Settled accounts keep old friends," he mumbled, mouth half full of food.

You giggled as he took off the top bun from his burger, piled on a bunch of fries, and took a huge bite. The scene was downright chaotic, and you burst out laughing. Levi, who normally cared about appearances, was wolfing down the McDonald's meal with an intensity that didn’t quite match the polished image he’d shown earlier, even though that suit probably cost a fortune.

Ketchup stuck to the corner of his mouth as he raised an eyebrow, silently questioning what was so funny. Once he'd swallowed, he muttered, "Eat before the fries get cold. They taste horrible like that."

You couldn't help but reflect on how the night had gone. The House of CB dress you'd bought and saved for a special occasion, the hair you had done at the salon, the makeup you practiced to mimic the subtle but lovely glam of the latest Bridgerton season—none of that had been planned for you to end up in your boyfriend's car, surrounded by a ridiculous amount of fast food from a drive-thru at 11 p.m.

The empty parking lot outside, with snow accumulating, could have been eerie if you weren’t sitting next to Levi. Fries slathered in extra cheddar sauce were scattered everywhere, and Levi shoveled them into his mouth without a care. No lights, no music, but it didn't matter—you felt safe with him, though neither of you was keen on tempting fate by keeping the car lights on in the middle of nowhere.

Taking a bite of your own burger, you chuckled again. "I don't think I've ever seen you this hungry."

Levi paused mid-chew to take a swig of his Coke. "Tch, those posh assholes. They dragged me around for hours—hours! Examples of this, representation of that, and handshakes with whoever. From 3 p.m.! They didn’t even let me grab a sandwich at the reception. Finally, they serve dinner at 10—TEN!" he grumbled, the delay clearly having been the final straw. "And what did they serve? One shrimp, a tiny cube of cheese, and some grass they picked from outside and called a gourmet dinner."

"Rich people don’t eat much; that’s why," you teased. "It’s fancy to have tiny portions on huge plates."

"That’s because they’re all on Ozempic, buying up medicine that people actually need. Fuck them," he muttered.

On any other occasion, Levi would’ve cursed you for eating in his car, but tonight he made an exception. "How are my ice creams?"

Levi glanced outside where the ice creams were stored in the cold air to keep from melting. Processing your words, he turned back to you. "My ice creams? You mean ours."

"Oh, Levi, aren’t you going to gift me one? What kind of gentleman are you?" you teased.

"Right now, I’d bite your arm off if it weren’t for the fact that McDonald’s is still open," he replied with a smirk.

You laughed again. It had been the government holiday party, and you’d been so excited to attend, ready to rub elbows with high society. One of the older women had even told you, "You should've asked for a brand to sponsor your dress, coming as Levi’s plus-one!" Erwin had insisted that Levi attend as a representative of the Ackerman family, much to your boyfriend's dismay. Uri had agreed, probably because any option was better than Kenny for a formal event.

"Erwin will kill you when he finds out," you said, remembering how Levi had messaged you to sneak out. You’d never imagined he’d drag you through a bathroom window, across the estate grounds, and into his car for a McDonald’s run. "What about Uri? I ran into him during dinner. He was so nice!"

Levi hummed in approval, acknowledging that the old man had always been a saint in his eyes. The only one capable of dealing with Kenny for so many years.

Suddenly, Levi's phone lit up, its ringtone breaking the quiet. "Fuck!" you panicked.

"Don’t answer. If we do, they’ll know I’m reachable," Levi said, ignoring the calls.

Message after message flooded his phone—texts from Uri, Traute, and Erwin: Where are you? Levi, answer the phone ASAP. Come back here this instant.

The calls came in one after another.

"They won’t stop," you muttered. "Maybe we should just tell them—"

"No. They’d send the national guard to drag me back to that snob-filled hell," Levi spat. Despite not picking up, both of you whispered as if the unanswered calls could somehow hear.

At some point, the whole situation became hilarious. You found yourself resting your head on his shoulder, chuckling as the phone buzzed incessantly. Levi kept refusing to answer, and in the midst of it all, you shared sloppy kisses in the darkened car.

"I’ve got an idea…" you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. Levi looked at you, confused, the noise from the phone distracting from the moment you were building.

Casually, you swiped up on the screen and answered. "Levi? Where are—"

With a fake gasp and an exaggerated tone, you moaned, "Ah, Lev—Yes!"

Levi had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as he realized what you were doing. "Play along," you whispered. And before you knew it, he began thumping the side door, mimicking the sound of… well, thrusts.

"Harder!" you managed between giggles before the call abruptly ended, leaving both of you in hysterics.

"Well, they’re definitely not calling anymore," Levi shook his head, still grinning, knowing full well this prank wouldn’t go unpunished.

"You can always say we were busy working on the Ackerman heir they keep asking for," you teased.

Levi grimaced, entertained by the thought. "I mean…" His hand slid up your thigh, the mood shifting as his touch grew more insistent. "We could actually be doing that."

Your hips began to move slightly over his lap. A quick glance at the clock—the only light inside the car—showed 12:05 a.m. Finally past midnight. "Whatever the birthday boy wants," you purred.

—

"He picked up? What did he say, sir?" Traute asked irritably in the event staff area, where they were waiting to bring out the enormous, decorated cake for the final part of the evening.

Uri chuckled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "I think he’s already celebrating. Let’s just carry on."

(No idea what this is, the idea just pop up in my mind)

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[manikas-whims]

LADS men + Halloween Costumes

Now with Sylus solo banner upcoming, the possibility of getting a Halloween quad banner is nil. And i’m happy for it cuz this has saved me from making a really bad financial decision 😆

anyways here's some mulling over the LIs costume choices..

SYLUS

Option 1: Vampire

If we consider Sylus’s overall aesthetic, then Vampire is the most obvious choice for him. He can't go out in the daylight for some inexplicable reason; definitely a creature of the night. He has red eyes that glow in the dark. And even during Destiny Café interactions, he playfully sinks his teeth into your palm. No doubt he'd enjoy sinking them more into your neck 🤭

Also like imagine a 5 star Sylus Halloween card where MC begins suspecting Sylus to be a vampire. And the whole card revolves around her trying to collect evidence. Even Luke and Keiran begin to suspect Sylus thanks to MC and the 3 join forces. The card ends with Sylus playfully scolding all of them 😆 and laughing in disbelief, in that deep cadence that he has 😊

Option 2: Demon

Another obvious choice. If not a vampire, then the red eyes and dark aesthetic are also quite befitting for a Demon attire. A very charming demon who lures you into sinning by offering his black card 🤭 and ofcourse you willingly sell your soul to him.

Option 3: Bounty Hunter

You know those charming sorts of outlaws that everyone loves and roots for? Yeah, that would fit so well with Sylus. Especially the steampunk aesthetic. So yeah..a steampunk style, bounty hunter Sylus with an array of weapons strapped all over. He only works solo but will definitely make an exception for you 😌

Option 4: Crow

Unlike the other two, this option involves a big, poofy bird suit. A crow outfit to be specific. And he looks simply adorable in it 🥺 Imagine yourself trying not to laugh as you sneakily take millions of photos of him in this outfit 🤭 while he sneers at you but there's no actual anger behind his gaze.

XAVIER

Option 1: Werewolf

It may sound unusual upon first thought but this will play so well into his overall persona of the “wolf in sheep's clothing” or “wolf in bunny clothing”. He did nibble on your finger and sniffed your scent in the No Restraint card. And I'm damn sure he has a thing for biting and marking. So just imagine him putting on the wolf ears, claws and fangs, and he starts acting more sly than ever, saying he's only playing the part 😉

Option 2: Royalty

Another obvious choice. Xavier is pretty used to this cause he is royalty afterall. So assuming a position of power comes easy to him (remember Floral Blessing?). Maybe some sort of chivalrous and gallant prince because he can easily add his swordplay skills to it. Seeing him regard you as his queen will be a treat sweeter than all the candies 😌

Option 3: Lumiere

You think it's the most hilarious inside joke— Lumiere hiding in plain sight amidst the crowd of Linkon on one night where a large majority would be dressed as their legend. Their hero. Xavier absolutely hates it! And he hates the amount of people he spots in Lumiere costumes. But he'll put it on upon your insistence. Just be ready for the consequences later on cause this man is jealous of his own superhero alter-ego 😭

Option 4: Angel

Xavier with large white wings protruding from his back would be another fitting sight with his overall white/silver aesthetic. Imagine him as your guardian angel, always watching over you, protecting you and trying his best to guide you on the right path, despite his own desires for you.

Option 5: Bunny/Alien

If not the above choices, then some cute/sexy bunny costume (though we've already got our bunny butler). Or a really silly alien costume that somewhat resembles his sticker set. We know he'll look squisher than ever in those 🥺

ZAYNE

Option 1: Mad Scientist

Something similar to Dr. Faustus or Dr. Frankenstein (yeah Frankenstein was NOT the monster but the name of the guy who created the monster..in case some people still don't know 😭). Zayne’s personal goal– his obsession and drive– to keep MC alive is somewhat similar to Dr. Frankenstein’s obsession with unraveling the secrets of life and well..ultimately beating death by bringing someone to life. And Zayne's hunger for knowledge is also similar to that of Dr. Faustus’s who readily sells his soul to the devil in exchange for knowledge.

So yeah..Zayne as a mad scientist, obsessed with knowledge and the drive to keep you alive would be intense 💯/💯

Option 2: Tutor

He'll sigh, take off his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance, like he always does. But you'll somehow convince him to do it because he's incapable of saying no to you.

It starts as a silly costume idea but the moment you see his legs clad in those unusually tight-fitting slacks and the pointer stick in his hand, you realize you might have a tutor kink and that you wouldn't mind misbehaving cause you'd actually enjoy getting punished by him 🫣

Option 3: Snowman/Penguin

The cute option! Definitely Dr. Carter, Yvonne and his other co-workers coaxed him to put it on for the little kids visiting Akso hospital throughout the week. When you stop by for a scheduled check-up and stumble upon him, you can't help but take loads of pictures of him with the kids 😊

RAFAYEL

Option 1: Merman/Siren

Just like Xavier as Lumiere, Rafayel as a merman on halloween would be such a spectacular inside joke.

At first he'd be offended because the fake tail you bought for him would feel like an insult to the real thing. He would pout and narrow his brows but after your constant cajoling and sweet-talking he'll agree to indulge you. And it's all fun and games until you realize why all those sailors in fiction are so terrified yet turned on at the mere sight of a merman/siren. He'll entice you so easily with his velvety voice 😵‍💫

Option 2: Assassin

Don't fall for his pretty face. Rafayel can be cunning, deceptive and deadly when he wants to be. (in the main story and also as Abysswalker). As such, putting on the attire of an assassin would come easy to him. His charm is as lethal as the numerous daggers he conceals within his clothes. He’ll strike you right in the heart. Can totally imagine him doing finger guns at you 😉

Option 3: Chick

Pouty babie in an adorable chick costume with a beret and paintbrush, like his sticker pack. Imagine him struggling with the bulky costume, trying to waddle towards you in annoyance, demanding you to immediately help him take off the costume. Despite it all, he'd let you hug him and take selfies. He'll hate every minute of it but still pose properly when you take pics 😆

these are just some silly thoughts..what are your costume ideas for each LI 🤔

» MASTERLIST «

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: told myself to slow down, didn't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s your first time wearing that skirt. You’ve had it in your closet for two years. At least. You’re not really a skirt person but it’s cute. The floral on black with the zipper up the front. It drapes nicely enough though you’re not used to wearing anything so short. You have a trusty pair of shorts on just in case. 

You don’t go out either. Definitely not to places like this. You keep an arm across your middle, gripping your other as the hordes of people make you dizzy. The shining gold accoutrement of the decor along with the waft of low music over the noise of tables and voices add to your vertigo. 

The casino is busy and bright and loud. You stay close to your sister as she leads you across the carpet; ivory with golden curliques patterned across them. You’re no gambler either but you’re not there to play cards.  

“I think it’s upstairs,” Roxie says as she looks at the tickets in her hand. “Gala Room B.” 

“Oh, right,” you murmur and smile at her, “what’s the band again?” 

“Don’t worry about it the tickets were free,” she chirps as you look up at her. You feel even more a child beside her; your height often adds to your inferiority complex. Historically, you think, those characteristics have been often intertwined. 

“No, but--” 

“You need to get out of mom’s place more,” she chides, “I could’ve brought Katie instead, but I chose you, sis.” 

“I know, er, thanks,” you run your hand up to your shoulder and rub it nervously. 

“Show doesn’t start for another hour. Let’s get a drink,” she insists and turns, strutting towards the long bar at the other side of the grand space. You trail after her, shrinking down even further. She turns back to you as she leans on a tall stool, “what d’ya want?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t really...” 

“I know, it’s one drink, how about a vodka-cran?” She suggests, “you love cranberry.” 

“Um, sure, if you think that’s good.” 

She sighs and rolls her eyes. She’s the wild one, not you. You know you bore her and since your parents’ divorce, years ago, you haven’t really hung out together. She went with your dad and you with your mom, since then, it’s all been a bit fuzzy. 

She orders as you stand back, not wanting to get in the way of the people all around you. You lean back, rocking nervously as you glance around. You feel underdressed as you see women in cocktail dresses and men in suits. Even your sister is a stark contrast to your overly casual attire; your favourite purple cardigan and the skirt you’ve never worn. 

Your eyes scan the room, admiring the golden sconces of bulbs that resemble candelabras and the gilt trim all along the wall. The more you look around, the less you belong. You don’t even know why you said yes. Well, your mom pushed you into it. Just like your sister, she keeps saying you need to get out more. 

You rub your lips together and feel around your small tassled purse. It’s used, like most of your things. The thrift store is as much as your mom can afford and you still haven’t found a solid job. You worked at the grocery for a summer before they laid off half of you then did a one-day stint at a polling centre for the last municipal election. Even if you wanted to go out, you don’t have the money for it. 

You pull out your chapstick and smear it around your chafed lips as you sway back the other direction. You stop short as you nearly slam into another body and you stumble out of the way of the man in his black-and-white suit. Embarrassment creeps hotly up your cheeks and you cap your lip balm and stand out of his path. 

He’s taller than you. Well, everyone is. But to you, he seems huge. His suit is finely tailored to his figure though his hair seems to clash with the refined style. It’s almost to his collar but neatly parted, a shank falling forward to frame his sharp cheekbone. His square jaw is trimmed thickly with a dark beard, peppered with strands of silver and patch along the dimple of his chin. You’ve never seen anything as blue as his eyes, they are almost inhumanly vivid. 

“Sorry, doll,” he touches your arm as he passes and smirks, swiftly turning his sights ahead of him. 

You gulp as your shoulder hits someone else. You spin to face your sister as she offers you a glass. You take the red concoction with the short black straw sticking out over the ice cubes. You thank her as the chill seeps into your hand. 

“Oof, look at him,” she leans to watch after the man in his dark suit, “damn.” You frown and look in the other direction. She scoffs and nudges you, “come on. That guy is totally stunning. Even you can see that.” 

“I don’t wanna gawk at him,” you mutter, “he’s a stranger.” 

“Oh, whatever, not like he’d notice,” she snips. 

You scrunch up your lip and tuck your chapstick away as you peer toward the man. He goes up to a table, sliding in next to a taller woman with honey-blond hair and a shimmery dress. He rests his hand along her lower back as he chatters to her and the rest of the players around the leather trim. 

“Sheesh, he’s fine,” she puts a twang on the last word, “mmph. If I wasn’t with Tom...” 

“Right,” you look down at the drink and sip from the straw. You make a face and cough. 

“It’s not that strong,” she slaps your back, “don’t be dramatic.” 

“I know,” you clear your throat, “I just wasn’t expecting the taste.” 

“Let’s go upstairs,” she points above. 

“Uh, okay,” you agree to her sudden diversion. You suppose you really are boring. 

You follow her up the curved stairs and along the railing that overlooks the lower casino room. Arched windows let in the night and the glow of the facade. You lean on the polished wood and peer down at the first floor; it looks even more resplendent from there. You sister puts her elbow on the railing as she looks around. 

“We could stick around after, lose some money,” she says. 

“I don’t... mom only gave me a twenty and I owe you for the drink.” 

“Pfft, whatever, I’ll spot ya. Tom gave me some extra with the tickets,” she trills, “it’ll be fun. Play some black jack. It’ll be an experience. You could say you’ve actually done something.” 

You smile, closed-lipped and tight. She isn’t wrong. It’s your first concert, for some cover band, and your first time at a casino. It’s not an exaggeration to say this is the height of your life experience. 

Your eyes wander down and meet another pair. You wince. It’s that same man. He walks towards you, a certain swagger in his stride. As he peers up at you, his cheeks dimple and he winks. You wrinkle your brow and look behind you. When you turn back, he’s gone. Right, you’re imagining things. 

Roxie slurps as her straw turns hollow. She’s already drained her cocktail, meanwhile you’ve barely taken a sip. She stirs the ice and hums. 

“Wait here, I’m gonna get a refill,” she raises her glass. 

“Oh, I can come with you--” 

“Nah, just stand here,” she insists. “You’ll just slow me down.” 

“Sure, uh, okay.” 

You curl your shoulders inward as she walks away. Great. All alone. You avoid looking anywhere but your glass. You face the railing again and balance your drink on it. It’s not bad, tarter than you’re used to and a little burny.  

You play with the black bracelet around your wrist, the band they stuck around it when they scanned your ID at the door. You suppose it’s a good idea but they wouldn’t be letting kids in here, would they? Oh yeah, the hotel is attached. 

As a kid, you never went on vacations like that. No hotels, no casinos, no shows. It seems like Roxie is catching up on all of that and you’re just there. The world is so much scarier when it’s all a mystery to you. 

“Excuse me,” a deep voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking it’s merely a passerby, “miss?” 

There’s a tap on your shoulder and you barely save your cocktail from spilling over the edge. You clutch the glass with both hands and face the stranger. It’s that same man, with the suit and the long hair and the oceanic eyes. Something about him is familiar beyond your few earlier glances. 

“I think you dropped this?” He holds up a chip with a golden 100 on it. You blink and shake your head. 

“No,” you scrape out of your throat, “I don’t-- I didn’t--” 

“I swear I saw it fall out of your bag,” he looks down at your purse. 

“Really, I’m not... I don’t gamble.” 

“Ah, well, if it’s just hanging around, might as well use it, huh?” He keeps his hand out, “maybe it’s your lucky day.” 

“I couldn’t. If someone lost it...” your voice doesn’t want to go and he leans in to hear you, adding to the heat spreading through your chest. Is it the alcohol or him? 

“You’re sweet, keep it,” he shoves the chip toward you. 

“Please, I... I... can’t...” you wipe a hand on your skirt and clutch the fabric. 

“Doll, I can’t hear you,” he says as he grabs your hand and dislodges it from your skirt, “here.” 

He presses the chip into your palm. You stare at his tie then look down at the white chip with gold detailing. His hand brushes yours before he rescinds his touch. 

“Erm...” you murmur dumbly and shake your head. 

“My treat,” he growls. 

“But...” 

“Like the skirt, by the way,” he surprises you as he pinches a fold, “cute on you.” 

Just as quickly as he appeared, he strides away, leaving you blankly staring after him. His broad shoulders move beyond a thick marble pillar as you hold up your drink and the chip. You just look between them. 

“Hey,” Roxie approaches again, “oh, what’s that?” 

“A chip...” you state plainly. 

“Duh, I know. Where’d you get it?” 

You look at the floor. Would she even believe you? “The floor.” 

“Ooo,” she plucks it from your fingers, “awesome, “now we’re definitely having some fun tonight.” 

“Rox,” you swallow and look up at her, “we should hand it in. It’s a lot of money. If someone lost it--” 

“If they lost it, they can afford it,” she bobs her neck as she speaks, “live a little,” she sneers and taps your glass, “and finish your drink. Maybe that’ll loosen you up.” 

You nod and recede into yourself, cradling the glass again with both hands. You put your lips to the straw and drink until you can’t anymore. She gulps straight from the brim of her glass and sighs, wiggling as she peers around. 

“I almost don’t even want to see these old men play music,” she snickers as she takes in the expanse of tables flashing lights. 

“Oh?” 

“Relax, we’re going to see the show. You’re a horrible liar and mom will see right through you,” she sneers, “besides, I told her I wouldn’t get you in too much trouble.” 

[pdflayn]

Tip-Toe (1.8k)

Lando Norris x Reader !

summary : you and lando had lunch at lando's family house

tags: smut !! p in v, unprotected sex, f receiving, fingering, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, degradation & praise kink, a bit of slapping.

note: AFTER A LONG TIME FINALLY HAD THE CHANCE TO WRITE AGAINN

It was a normal Sunday morning inside Lando’s condo as the both of you are snuggled up under his sheets. Another race week is approaching and he will be flying to Canada on Tuesday so you really want to spend most of your waking days in Lando’s arms while he’s still here in the UK.

“Good morning, baby.” You hear your boyfriend mumble with his morning voice which is often very cute to hear. You leaned in to his side to give him a quick kiss on the cheek in which he returned in the form of a hug, making you his little spoon like you always were. “What do you want for breakfast?” You asked as you melted into his embrace. Moments like this made Lando’s head spin, it feels unreal that he’s beside a literal angel.

“Can you be one of the choices?” You immediately turned around and slapped him lightly in the chest and gave him your irritated stare which he only laughed at. “God, Lan, it’s too early.”

“Eggs and toast then, is that an option?” You nodded as a response and kissed him one last time before standing up and fixing your side of the bed. You went out of the bedroom and straight to the kitchen to cook breakfast for the both of you. Soon enough you heard footsteps coming closer to you along with hands wrapping around you from behind.

“Mom wants to have lunch with us later, do you feel like going?” he whispers as he rests his head on your shoulder, hiding his head to the crook of your neck leaving a little kiss. “Sure, why not? I miss your mom, we don’t get to talk much anymore.”

“I’m pretty sure she misses her favorite daughter too.” Lando jokes before placing a kiss on your cheek. He removed himself from you and sat himself down at the kitchen table as you served breakfast. The both of you ate in complete chaos because there’s never a dull day with Lando Norris, never.

“What do you think? Do I look good?” You said as you stepped out of his walk-in closet with a cute orange sundress. “Or does the skim dress look better?” Lando looked at you in awe, he always does. “You look great in both, even better without it.” You shook your head with Lando’s response, you couldn’t help but smile with it as well.

You decided to go with the sundress and a cute little purse to match with your outfit and flat sandals. The drive was quite short since there was no traffic and his parent’s house wasn't far away as well. To be honest, their house is somewhat your home now, since you were a child you would always go there as your mother arranged playdates with Lando and some other kids. As a teenager you would always come around to help Lando with his studies to make it less of a burden for his career and in return he would give you tickets to your favorite concerts. And then there goes the dating phase, their family would always invite yours for dinner and even during events and holidays. You were all just one big family and nothing makes you even happier than that.

“There you are! We’ve been waiting for the both of you to show up. Come sit!” Lando’s mom said as she opened the door for us. Turns out we were the ones left to arrive and the food was already served. “I hope the both of you are hungry, I accidentally cooked a whole feast.”

The lunch was going smoothly but knowing Lando, he would always have something that screams trouble. It’s imprinted to his whole existence. You can’t look at this man and tell yourself he’s not going to cause trouble because one way or another, he always will.

He took off his shoe on one foot and was aiming for your thigh since the both of you sat on opposite sides facing each other. But instead of your thigh, he touched something else which made the both of you surprised. Making you choke on your food and making people stare at you, so you reply with an “I’m okay.”

As soon as everyone finished eating, you stood up and went straight to Lando’s room, still a bit flushed with what happened and a bit hilarious because Lando never really pulls up things like what he did just a moment ago. Soon enough, Lando appears inside the room, smiling from ear to ear like a kid. You lightly slapped him in the cheek, “So what, are we toe-fucking now?” You asked and the both of you bursted out laughing.

“We can if you want to?” Lando giggled as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. “I think I prefer your tip rather than your toe.” Lando smiled at your response, “Good answer, love.”

With his hands still on your waist, he guided you to his bed, laying you down as he crawled on top of you. He kissed you feverishly, the both of you fighting for dominance waiting for someone to give in. and that someone was you as you felt pressure caused by his knee on your pussy. Your mouth went wide open as a low moan was heard from you making Lando grin. He knows how much he affects you. “You need to be quiet, baby, or mom will hear us. Wouldn’t want her to think her favorite daughter-in-law is such a slut don’t we?” You squirmed at his words.

You arched your back from all the overstimulating sensations caused by Lando. Your chest touching his, it pushed Lando to his edge. He held your hips tightly making you wince as he switched your position. You were now straddling his lap as he sat down. He guided you at his erection, making you grind your hips slowly as you feel him with your aching pussy.

His hands roamed around your body, tracing every part of you as he slowly took off your sundress. His hands went in to cup your cheek, you were all flushed, feeling all hot and needy. “God, you look so perfect.” he said before diving to your lips, kissing you roughly, biting each other’s lips until the taste of blood is evident. You felt his hand sneak inside your panties, playing with your wet folds. “You’re so wet, so wet for me.” He groaned at the feeling of you clenching at his fingers inside of you.

“Lan..” before you could even say anything, Lando leaned to you and shushed you. He added another finger, stretching you wider. You bit your lip as an attempt to be quiet but failed as he fastened his pace with his fingers inside of you. You gripped on the headrest of the bed for dear life as you started to tremble. You were almost at your peak until you felt emptiness as Lando pulled out his fingers.

You whined at the loss of touch from Lando. “Put it back, please.” You pleaded but Lando was playing deaf, only smiling at your request. He unclasped your bra, revealing your tits in which he delved on. His tongue flicking your nipple while his other hand playing with your other tit.

Lando switched your places once again, he's now on top of you. Kissing you from your lips down to your neck, leaving marks you will definitely struggle to hide soon enough. His kisses traced all the way down to your torso as he finally reached the hem of your panties. He looked at you like he was asking for permission and it made you giggle. This man literally just denied you of your first orgasm and had the guts to ask permission to take off your panties.

You nodded as a response to his request. And as soon as he did, he started kissing you from your inner thigh up to your slit. He blows cold air making you shiver from anticipation.

He started to give kitten licks on your folds, teasing your entrance with his tongue. Your hands locked in his curls as you try to shove his head down on you. Each flick of his tounge made you crazy, writhing in pleasure, not knowing what to hold and where to put yourself. “Fuck, you taste so fucking good.” Lando hummed as he continued to devour you. Hearing Lando eat you out with all the sensual noises the both of you makes you haywire. You can feel the build up of pleasure inside of you, your legs trembling once again.

“Damn it Lando!-” You hissed at him as he abruptly stopped, denying you of your orgasm which stressed you out. “You're such a dick-” You said to him as soon as he leveled with you but you were replied with a slap which made you form tears in your eyes. “Talk more like that and you won't be getting this dick, you hear me?” Lando said as he kissed the cheek he slapped.

He kneeled on top of you and removed every piece of fabric left on him and kissed you roughly. “Oh fuck, I wanna be inside you, baby. I wanna make you feel so good.” You moaned at his words as you felt him slowly entering inside you.

“Fuck- Lan-” He placed a hand on your mouth, covering your moans not because he doesn't want to hear them, oh god how he wanted to hear thos beautiful screams of yours, but this is a different situation. A more thrilling situation.

“Look at you taking me so well. It's such a shame I can't hear your pretty moans.” He said as he applied pressure on your lower abdomen, doubling the pleasure you felt. It was a surprise to you how you could hold your screams from everything that Lando has been doing to you.

“Lan- Fuck! Please, I wanna-”

“You wanna cum? Go on baby, let it out, make a fucking mess.” And so you did. Clenching around him as you reach your peak makes him groan. He didn't stop, not even for a bit. He kept ramming inside of you, you felt him so deep inside of you.

You started trembling, sensitive all over your body, overstimulated. You started to cry which somehow made Lando more eager. “Lan- stop-” you whimpered but you didn't really mean it. You can feel another build up inside of you. “Come on, baby, one more. Cum with me?”

Heavy groans and low moans along with the sound of skin slapping against each other were the only things heard inside his room as both reached their highs. “I love you.” Lando whispers in your ear in which you replied with a hug as you felt all his weight on top of yours but still enough for you to not have trouble breathing.

“Let's go get you cleaned up.”

[beomiracles]

⌞ 𝐒𝟐 𝐄𝐏 𝟒 ⌝

DREAM RECALL ⸝⸝ His fingers grasp your chin and reality slowly seeps back into your clouded mind. He was a complete stranger, you didn’t even know his name. It somehow excited you. It was the thrill your mundane life lacked, it was what your husband failed to provide you with. But this man, this stranger, he was ready to give you everything and more as his eyes hungirly roam your body, hands moving along your sides before sliding down your thighs to push your dress up. ⸝⸝

wc: 3.2k

pairings taehyun x fem!reader warnings infidelity, age-gap, strangers to ???, Taehyun is 22 & reader is referred to be around her mid-thirties, reader is slightly insecure, semi-public sex, unprotected + creampie, vaginal fingering, marking, kissing, hm hm hm let me know if I missed something !!

#serene speaks ✎... hii hii !! this is heavily inspired by one scene from the show 'Good Girls' eheh, because I'm rewatching it right now !! like I love Rio and Beth you don't get it. anyway, I'm not claiming this plot/idea as my own in any way shape or form, but you do not have to have seen the show to read this :3 this is horribly proofread on my part but my dear Izzy looked through it for me so fear not !!

The glass is cold beneath your fingers, the rim resting against your lips, waiting on you to take another sip. You do. The liquor burns your throat, it adds to the light buzz, the tingle of your body. — Chatter surrounds you, it’s everywhere but you can’t seem to pick up on it. The bar is beyond crowded, and so is your small table, placed in an ocean of others. Some guests are merely tipsy, others are on the verge of passing out. 

Your gaze shifts to the man in front of you, your husband. He keeps on talking and talking, somehow overpowering the murmur around you. His monotone voice makes you tick, the small wedge between his bushy eyebrows, the insistent moving of his lips, the pools of nothing swirling behind his eyes. Not a single comprehensive thought roamed that brain of his. 

You knew that he was cheating. You’d be a fool not to. The lipstick on his fingers, some smudging on the collar of his white shirt. His uneven hair and flushed cheeks, not to mention the constant talking, a distraction, as if he was still trying to cover for himself. — He must think you’re stupid. But you’re not. You’ve known for a while now. You just haven’t decided on how to pursue, decided on a suitable approach. 

Divorce was always an option, but what about your kids? They love their daddy. — You take another sip, swishing the alcohol on your tongue before swallowing. Perhaps you’d guilt trip him... — “Babe, are you listening?” He still called you that, it was despicable, you weren’t in high school anymore. You blink, painting on a small smile, the same smile you’d been wearing for the past ten years. 

“Sorry, you said something about your upcoming sales?” 

His face lights up, like a kid on Christmas, eager to tell you about things he thought you had no clue of, things he didn’t think you’d understand. He belittled you, almost everyday, and you were sick of it. — He begins rambling once more, he’s bound to be occupied for another five minutes, so you let your eyes wander. They scan the crowded bar, people leaning over the countertop to get their order across. 

Then suddenly, he leans back, easily parting himself from the rest, if only for a split second. The black shirt clung to his chest, sleeves rolled up to expose his near delectable forearms. He was young, at least ten years your junior. But he’d caught your eye the whole night. His gaze meets yours, dark eyes twinkling under the dim lights as he sends you a near unnoticeable smirk, just the faint tug of his lips, nothing else. His attention momentarily shifts over to your obnoxious man of a husband, but you don’t stray from him. 

“..And so if we put the Honda for sale, I’m sure it’ll attract far more…Babe?” Your husband leans forward, blocking the view of the stranger before you. Internally groaning, your wide eyes quickly snap back to him, “sorry darling, my mind’s all over the place.” Your husband nods, and his hand reaches for yours, you notice that he isn’t wearing his wedding ring. “Should we go home?” He asks the question like any other in the world, but it lacks any kind of sincerity. 

Brushing past him, your attention returns to the guy by the bar, he was talking to someone, but his eyes would shift to your table ever so often, an almost knowing look on his face. “Yes”, you bring the cold glass to your lips once more, downing the beverage in one go, “I’ll just go freshen up.” 

Without waiting for a response, you rise, swinging your small bag over your shoulder as you push your chair in. Your husband looks confused, though he quickly nods, murmuring something about waiting out in the car. But you pay the man you’d devoted fifteen years of your life to, little mind, instead you head for the bathrooms with long and determined strides. 

The room is small, cramped, and as the door shuts behind you with an awkward squeak, you lean onto the sink, gripping its edges tightly as you regard your reflection in the dirty mirror. With a shaky exhale you place your bag down on the cool surface, unzipping it as you reach for your lipstick, carefully reapplying the gloss across your lips. Resisting the urge to splash cold water all over your heated face, you run a hand through your hair. 

You think about your husband, and for a moment guilt gnaws at the corners of your mind. But the longer you picture his face, the lies, the betrayal. — The better you feel about yourself. 

You swallow, your throat suddenly feels dry, and a small bead of sweat forms on your forehead. Fingers drumming against the white porcelain, you count the seconds in your head, your mouth moving silently. — Thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven..

Click. 

The door glides open, and a tall shadow slinks inside. He closes the door behind him, hands digging into the pockets of his black jeans as he watches you expectantly. Through the reflection of the mirror, everything is okay, but as you turn around, coming face to face with him for the first time tonight, your breath gets stuck in your throat. Fuck, he was really young, 21? 22? 

You bite the inside of your cheek, briefly hesitating. But he didn’t. He watches you with the same expression he had been all night, unmoving to the untrained eye, but you could clearly catch the glint in his gaze, the desire radiating off of him. You wouldn’t back down now. — So you take a step forward, one is enough to put you against him, chests brushing one another. 

He doesn’t say anything when you reach a hand out, fingers clasping around the lock of the door behind him as you seal the two of you away from the rest of the world. — Your soft exhale fans across his face, the smirk on his lips spreading, exposing sharp teeth. Part of you wants to break the silence, another part of you wants it to go on forever. 

You’re frozen, because in truth, you hadn’t planned for anything further than this. But he doesn’t seem to mind, an almost gentle look playing on his features as he draws closer, large hands finding their way to the back of your thighs as he runs them along your clothed skin. — Your dress is long, reaching all the way to your knees, certainly not what the twenty-something girls wore, but he didn’t seem to mind that either as he carefully bunches the fabric up. 

He takes a step forward and you take one back, you don’t even realize how far you’ve gotten until your now exposed skin hits the cold porcelain and you emit a small gasp. The sound rings out in the silent room, echoing off its walls almost melodically. — He huffs, and in one swift move, he hikes you up onto the cool sink. 

The determination of his movements make your panties dampen in a way they hadn’t for years. In all honesty you couldn’t even remember the last time you and your husband had sex, it might have been sometime before your youngest was born.. You tried to shake the uncomfortable thoughts away but it seemed impossible. Your hands roam his shoulders and the fine outline of his toned chest, he was everything your husband wasn’t. 

And you…You were everything they weren’t, the twenty-something girls. Would he even like you? — Sure beauty was subjective but would he hesitate when he saw the stretch marks on your belly? The dip of your hips, the plush of your thighs, your body worn out after birthing four children. Would he be disgusted? Would he back out? 

His fingers grasp your chin and reality slowly seeps back into your clouded mind. He was a complete stranger, you didn’t even know his name. It somehow excited you. It was the thrill your mundane life lacked, it was what your husband failed to provide you with. But this man, this stranger, he was ready to give you everything and more as his eyes hungirly roam your body, hands moving along your sides before sliding down your thighs to push your dress up. 

You shiver. Whether that was from the fresh air hitting your now naked skin or the anticipation swirling in the pits of your stomach, you didn’t know. His gaze searches yours as his fingers brush the lining of your panties, as if looking for doubt, but he only finds lust, and he smirks. — Your husband rarely touches you, and especially not like this, not intimately. You often thought that you might have been the problem, but as the man before you leans in to press a tender kiss to the skin of your shoulder, you find that it’s not. 

A small part of you wants to ask his name, his age, anything, even the slightest bit of information about him. But the unknown felt good, ignorance really was bliss. It was better this way, you tell yourself. Less strings attached, and it wasn’t like you were ever going to see this man again. You were doing something for yourself, for you. 

He dips a tentative hand beneath the soft cotton of your underwear, fingers experimentally swiping across your soaked cunt as he parts your folds. He has yet to pull away, to change his mind, and you internally sigh out in relief. — Your head falls forward, hands gripping his broad shoulders as you exhale against his neck. 

You catch him softly humming and mere moments later, the pad of his thumb presses against your throbbing clit and a small moan rolls off your tongue. You could barely remember the last time you’d even touched yourself. With four children and a cheating husband who stayed out late, alone time was near sacred. You were pretty damn sure it showed. 

The way he was touching you felt good, way too good, and you resist the urge to squeeze your thighs around his arm. — Just as his lips trace the shell of your ear does he push a finger deep into your core, drawing a breathless gasp from you as he curls said finger, almost immediately brushing past a part of you that had been kept stowed away for so long. 

The buzzing sensation the alcohol had left you with was nothing compared to the fire currently taking to life within you. And all you could think was: why hadn’t you done this sooner? Why had you denied yourself of the pleasure your husband has so liberally been granting himself for the past year. 

Your husband…

He was waiting for you in the car. Time was not on your side, and any other day, you would have been freaked out. Not today. Today your mind is set on one thing alone. — Feverish hands claw at his shirt as you urge him on, the second finger he’d added wasn’t enough, you needed more, and a lot of it. He complies almost immediately, a small grin splayed across his face as he yanks your panties down your legs. You wondered if he let the twenty-something girls boss him around like this too. 

Your neck feels damp, covered in his wet kisses, rough enough to where they’d surely discolor your skin. The idea of your husband seeing it was thrilling. But before you get to ponder said scenario further, he’s got you on your feet once more, spinning your around to face the mirror. Immediately you shy away from your reflection in the glass. The thought of seeing yourself like this, bent over the sink of a public bathroom in a random bar like some cheap fuck.. The idea was far from enticing. 

His hand is on your lower back as he guides you down, the other one trailing along your arm before reaching your neck. Fingers splayed across your throat, he encourages your head back up and your eyes flutter at the action. — And when they open, you find him already watching you through the reflection, lips pulled into the same smirk he’d been wearing the whole night. 

Suddenly, it felt okay again. 

The sound of his zipper being undone sends a small spark of excitement through your already anticipating body. — Leaning forward, he presses a warm kiss to your shoulder blade, firm chest meeting the slight arch of your back and the head of his cock nudges your nearly pleading cunt. 

Your fingers grip the porcelain tight, knuckles fading to match its pale color, making the wedding ring on your hand a stark contrast. You exhale, gaze flickering up to meet his through the reflection. Dark hair falls down onto his forehead, shielding his face from view until he looks up. — With a soft grunt, the hand previously on your back now resting against the curve of your waist, he pushes himself inside with one swift thrust. 

The feeling is familiar yet completely foreign and you gasp at the stretch, your cunt clenching around him almost immediately. He gives a small sigh, head falling to the crook of your neck once more as his hand travels from your throat and down your chest, getting a handful of your tits as he squeezes them through the light blouse you wore. 

He moves slowly at first, taking his time as he gauges your every reaction. From the twitch of your lips to the sickeningly sweet moans that he managed to draw. — But you both quickly realize that it’s far from enough. And it’s not long until his hips are snapping against yours with a force strong enough to make your eyes roll back. 

To be touched like this. To be craved like this. It was like a part of you, once long forgotten, had been awakened all over again. Your life before your scumbag of a husband, your life before the lies, the cheating, the must’s and the do’s. — It was your life before soccer practice with the kids every tuesday, it was life before turning in at 10pm each night, it was life before slaving away in the kitchen as you scrambled to feed your family. 

This. This was your life. Only you and this mere stranger, a mere stranger who made you feel like yourself again. — His cock buried deep within your throbbing cunt, twitching with your every persistent clench of arousal. Biting down on your bottom lip, you try to muffle the noises of pleasure waiting on your tongue, the thin walls of the small bathroom would surely give you away. 

Your knees feel weak, legs wobbling with each thrust of his, and if it hadn't been for his arm snaked around your waist, you would’ve been on the floor moments ago. — Your eyes get caught on him, his large frame towering over you from behind, broad shoulders spreading out above yours; biceps flexing through the material of his dark shirt. His breath is hot against your neck, coming out in heavy pants and faint grunts as his lips nip at your sweaty skin.  

You didn’t know his name. But he still made you feel things you hadn’t felt in forever. He made you feel sexy. Desirable. Like there was more to you than the sad house-wife who obliviously lets her husband cheat on her. 

When you finish on his cock, it doesn’t feel at all like it had with your husband, with the man you had devoted your life to. No, it felt better. Like this was how it was supposed to have been all along. It feels euphoric, like you’re floating, nothing was real and nothing mattered. Then suddenly, you want to kiss him. — Craning your neck slightly, a trembling hand unlatching from the sink as your fingers entangle in his dark hair, you pull his face to meet yours. 

Was this a bad idea? Was kissing taking it too far? Were you about to cross a boundary you couldn’t revert back from. It didn’t matter, you didn’t care, and neither did he. 

His lips are soft as they move eagerly against your own. It’s not like the quick pecks you and your husband shares before he leaves for work, before he leaves for someone else. Your kisses with your husband are solemn, melancholy, and almost chore-like. This was anything but. It felt like your first kiss all over. Hot but tentative, clumsy but absolutely perfect. 

He groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating on your tongue and you resist a small moan. Then he tries to pull back, but you don’t want him to, he can’t. Your fingers in his hair keeps him close, and with a soft hum he complies. Hips jerking forward one last time before his warm release shot up into your spent cunt. It felt like something you definitely shouldn’t be doing. Perhaps that was why you did it. 

You finally felt in control. 

As he pulls out, tucking himself back into his dark jeans, you realize that you had yet to speak a word to each other. The silence had been a minimal obstacle just moments prior but now…You wonder if you should break it. But what would you say to him? “Thank you?” You almost scoffed. 

His large hands on your legs startle you from your thoughts and it takes you a second to realize that he’s pulling your panties back on. The garment is beyond drenched as it sticks to you uncomfortably. — He’s close, so close that you can feel his warm breath caress your flushed cheeks. He exhales, eyes finding yours in the dim light of the small bathroom. Then he smiles, it’s not the previous smirk that had originally drawn you in, but a genuine smile. 

“Taehyun.” 

His voice is low, the name effortlessly rolling off his tongue and you blink dumbfoundedly at him before realizing that he’d just introduced himself. Feeling your face redden even further, you clear your throat before following his lead and doing the same. — Taehyun leads you out of the restrooms, ignoring the glances sent by the multiple people in line as his hand rests on your lower back. 

The cold air causes goosebumps to ripple across your skin the moment you step out onto the parking lot. Taking a small step back, Taehyun’s eyes roam the multitude of cars lined up, you do the same, eventually finding the familiar one amongst the crowd. After glancing back and forth awkwardly, you finally bid farewell to him, barely managing to catch the subtle wink he shot you. 

The car door slams shut and with a heavy sigh you slump against the leather seat, finally feeling the evening’s events catch up to you. — “What took you so long?” The annoyingly monotone voice of your husband rings out into the thick air and you’re thankful for the darkness of the night as you roll your eyes. “Long line”, you mumble. 

Your husband hums as the engine comes to life. “And who was that?” He adds, sending a small nod in the direction of Taehyun’s figure, leaning against the brick wall of the bar as he takes slow drags from a cigarette. — You shrug, feigning ignorance as you rub your thighs together, the dampness between them an evident memory of what had taken place just minutes earlier. 

“A friend of a friend”, you sigh, letting your gaze wander out the window as you pull out of the parking lot. “Yeah?” Your husband mutters, “what’s his name?” — You smile, shrugging the question off as you settle back into your seat. 

“I haven't got a clue.” 

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[musedeluce]

Protection Detail

Rafayel x Reader – (He didn’t actually hire you to protect him as a bodyguard, but you don’t know that, and of course you take your job seriously.)

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Slight Violence, Hospitalization, Blood and Injury.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It was dusk, and the heady, but ultimately pleasant scent of different perfumes swirled through the air as people moved throughout the exhibit. Floral,citrus, earthy, fresh, there was such a variety of scents. Inhaling, you did your best to identify the specific notes. It was something you did for fun, and also to hone your senses, as keen senses could save your life, and others one day. An ornate chandelier twinkled, illuminating the grand exhibition hall. People dressed in beautiful, high quality clothes milled about, moving from painting to painting. From your vantage point on a balcony overlooking the exhibit, everything seemed to be going quite well. As Rafayel’s hired bodyguard, you were never that far from him, but you took care to be as unobtrusive as possible. Right now, you had just finished a security check and were on your way to relieve the security guard you had asked to watch him while you were gone, for 10 minutes at most.

“Thank you.” Taking your post, you make sure you can see Rafayel clearly and keep an eye on the environment around him. As if he knew you were looking at him, he turned his head, his vibrant, swirling indigo eyes meeting yours for a moment, as it to make sure you were still there, before he turned away to speak with a guest.

“No problem. Nothing really happened while you were gone. Mainly, Thomas has been introducing people to him to briefly talk and then whisking them away again while he stands there looking austere.” That’s so like him, you think, amused at him purposely being the minimum amount of sociable he could be. You were lucky in this regard, as you didn’t have to socialize with anyone at all. The security guard walked off and you remained, alert to any trouble. Slowly, Rafayel circled throughout the room with you following discreetly, and he would sometimes glance back at you before he moved. For a few hours, that’s how the exhibition continued. Everything was calm, people mingled, delicious food and drink was consumed, and honestly it was a great time.

While surveying the grand hall, something slightly out of place caught your eye. A lone figure stood gazing up that the pinnacle of the exhibit, close enough to touch the masterpiece painting.. too close. His posture was stiff, his back ramrod straight and his hands, his hand were clenched at his sides. You couldn’t here anything from where you were but the man seemed to be talking to himself, mouthing words, probably bitter, ugly words if his body language was any indication. It reminded you of someone you had met before. Abruptly, the man whipped around and stalked through the crowd...straight towards Rafayel. Naturally, you started moving towards Rafayel as well, maneuvering to intercept the man before he reached the artist.

Physically dealing with a person is always supposed to be the last resort, with de-escalation being the main goal of any bodyguard. The response should always be proportionate, and the goal should always be the protection of your mark. Security people do not exist to punch people out, they’re only supposed to do that if that’s the only option. Hence, why you positioned yourself in between the man and your employer, who also happened to be someone you considered dear.

“Why should he get all the attention? Just him? My work is just as good, but I’m paid dust!” His voice was tinged with a sickly green, the tone bitter and rotten. “All his work is boring and generic. Inspiring? Unique? Don’t make me laugh. “ His noxious laughter seemed to echo throughout the hall, the sour smell of alcohol on his breath shed more light on the situation.

“Sir, are you feeling alright?” You kept your voice neutral, changing your expression to one of concern despite your annoyance. It was a better approach to ask this question and questions like it instead of immediately asking them to leave, or what they were doing as that was much more confrontational. It had the added benefit of often confusing them, and actually making them consider their actions. Unfortunately, this time it failed.

“I’ll feel perfectly fine when you get out of my way.” The man tries to get all up in your face, but you remain unruffled.

“Sir. I can’t do that, but I might be able to help you in some other way. Do you want a glass of water?” He sneers, and spews spit in your direction as he snarls at you.

“Bitch, get the fuck out of my way. I don’t need a fucking glass of water.” He attempts to push you aside. Annoyed, but not surprised, you effortlessly grab him and flip him around, locking his arms behind his back and start to escort him in the direction of the exit. Hearing some soft footsteps approaching, you knew Rafayel had seen what was going on. Hopefully you could get him out before Rafayel made it to you.

“Okay, sir. I’m going to have to escort you out for getting physical.”

“How dare you put your hands on me!” The idiot was starting to make a scene, but it’s not like you cared. You were doing your job, and he was making himself look bad, a scene wouldn’t affect you. “Rafayel is the one who deserves to be humiliated! He’s got you all eating out of the palm of his hand because of some pathetic art that has no soul!” Other security guards approached, and you made the decision to hand him off to them so you could get back to Rafayel, and so that this person wasn’t with you when Rafayel got close, he was about 2/3rds of the way to you. After the initial outburst, people, seeing it was just someone being drunk and poorly behaved, returned to what they were doing as soon as they saw it was being handled.

“Escort him out, please. And call him a cab or something, he’s drunk, on both jealousy and alcohol.” You push him into the custody of the same man you had asked to watch Rafayel for a while. Turning on your heel, you stride in Rafayel’s direction and meet up with him quickly.

“What’s up?” He asks, tone casual and almost playful, but not quite.

“Just some drunk idiot.” You shrug, and fill Rafayel on what happened, leaving out the specific insults upon his art.

“HEY!” The sharp yell behind you was followed by the footsteps of someone directly sprinting towards Rafayel, and you. Instinctually, you whip around, pushing Rafayel behind you. Icy pain exploded through your head, which had snapped back with the impact of the man’s punch. Itaking the punch was something you knew you were capable of, and since he had now punched you, you could now take more actions. Also, there was no way in Hell you were gonna let some drunken, pathetic sod even touch Rafayel, let alone punch him. The sod in question could now also be booked for assault. All of these were reasons you took the punch, and also because the man had acted quite quickly, and you spent any extra time you had to react to him getting Rafayel out of the way, so you also took the punch because it was one of the only actions you could take at the time.

Unimpressed, you look back at the man, who was apparently sobering up as realization of what he had done dawned in his eyes. You punched him in the stomach as hard as you could, for the purposes of subduing him and possibly, a little bit, for your own satisfaction. Writhing on the ground, event security surrounded him and finally he was kicked out.

“What a mess.” Muttering to yourself, you turn to Rafayel, making sure he was alright. “My apologies, Boss.” You gently touch your nose, your hand coming away with crimson blood on the tips of your fingers. It wasn’t broken but that wasn’t the only thing you had to worry about, whenever you took a blow to the head it was always possible to get a concussion, and bleeding from your nose wasn’t a great sign, especially since you hadn’t actually been punched directly in the nose. “Are you okay?” You eye him, examining his body up and down. “You seem to be, but I’d like your verbal confirmation.” Rafayel grabs your bloodied hand, making a show of examining it, and your face, closely.

“Your devotion is astounding.” His tone is playful, teasing. “I should reward you with a trip to the hospital, the most magical location in the world.” Gasping, you play along, a smile twitching at the corners of your lips.

“The hospital? I’ve always wanted to go there, what a great reward!” The two of you make your way to one of the exits, walking side by side which is unusual as you were either in front of him or behind him depending on the situation. Everyone lets you go, even Thomas.

“Your chariot awaits.” Rafayel opens the passenger door for you, deciding that he would be the one to drive - quite honestly, a good thing because you felt a headache developing, and you couldn’t tell if it was a concussion headache, or just one from being punched.

“Your powers of perception are most impressive! What tipped you off about that pathetic knave?” Rafayel continued his teasing, which you were grateful for. It would serve a dual purpose of keeping you engaged, important if you had a concussion, and honestly just making you feel better.

“Alas, it’s nothing so impressive as you may think. The knave reminded me of someone creepy I had met before.”

“Oh?” Rafayel arches an eyebrow. “Do enlighten me, noble knight.”

“Hush.” You giggle, and then become more serious. “Remember how our second meeting was because I needed to investigate one of your paintings? The man tonight reminded me of Raymond, the collector who bought your painting. They both had the same...creepy and obsessive vibes. I honestly suspect that what happened to Raymond was orchestrated somehow, and that he brought it upon himself. This man today, also brought what happened upon himself.”

“Interesting!” Rafayel’s playful voice adapted a silken tone.”You don’t talk a lot about your other job! I feel left out, and this topic is much less boring than some jealous drunk. Who do you think orchestrated what happened to Raymond?”

“Well, the most likely suspect is you, as the artist. You have the most control over the painting itself.” Equally as playful as he was, you continue to speak. “But, who cares? I trust your judgment, given what I know of you, though I suspect I don’t know that much. I also trust my own judgment, and there was something seriously off about Raymond. Hence why when this guy reminded me of him, I was on alert.”

“How flattering! To think, the best hunter in Linkon trusts my judgment as much as their own.” A genuine, soft smile graces Rafayel’s pretty face. A minute later, you’re at Akso hospital, making your way to the emergency room. Luckily for you, it wasn’t very busy and the wait was short. Unluckily, you were admitted overnight for observation, because even though you seemed to be fine, they wanted to know for sure, and there was the extra factor of your protocore syndrome to consider.

“Honestly Rafayel, it’s okay if you leave.” He had been allowed to go with you once you told them you wanted to see him, so you could inform him of what was going on. “I’ve spent a lot of nights in this hospital alone. I just wanted to make sure you knew what was up.”

“What? And leave you alone after you so valiantly protected me? Not a chance.” Rafayel takes a seat on the hospital cot he had set up. “Besides, we apparently need to discuss your rather worrying tendency for self-sacrifice. I’m a bit mad, you know.”

“Mad? Why would you be mad when I was protecting you, a job you explicitly hired me to do?” He gasped in mock outrage.

“You only protected me because I pay you? In that case -” His tone softens. “If I stop paying you will you stop trying to protect me?”

“Rude! I didn’t just protect you because you pay me, I genuinely wanted to protect you. I don’t want you to get hurt, especially not if there’s anything I can do about it.” You were earnest, and frankly Rafayel was scared to hear it, but so impossibly happy. “So, I guess the answer to that question is no.” Your laugh was invigorating.

“Humans are all so selfish. Always acting how they want with no regard for anyone else.” The cot creaked as he leaned backwards, the fresh, energetic smell of his cologne wafting through the air, and his voice was quiet, enough so that you suspect he was talking to himself. You responded anyway.

“That’s not true. Humans are too varied to make blanket statements like that and “Humans are inherently evil and horrible.” Rafayel hums in response, studying you, the pause in the conversation growing heavy.

“I’ve decided. No protecting me if it hurts you.” He gets up off the cot, and spreads his arms, wordlessly asking for a hug. You open your arms in response, and he envelops you in a soft, strong and comfortable hug. “Your life is precious and important. I’d much rather experience life with you, not be a reason you got hurt.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A/N: He's my favorite!! I think a lot of people do not actually understand his character, and portray him as simple, immature, clingy, and whiny. He's playful and fun, yes but also quite patient and calculating, among other things. His character is quite complex and he's very, very smart. For instance, during the car ride he's trying to get more information, not just flirt with the MC. XD I have THOUGHTS

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 11

WC 1326, Masterpost CW: anxiety

“Hey, kid,” Flash the older said as he raced up beside Danny.

“Still not a kid, old man,” Danny replied. It was already a well worn argument by this point after several dinners or weekend meals over at the Flash’s household. Sure it was used before that, but once Danny had started seeing Barry out of the mask, he’d only been worse about it. Danny guessed it was their thing now. It was weird to have ‘things’ again with people, but a good sort of weird.

“Still not an old man, kid. I’m not even a grandpa yet!”

Danny almost dropped the tablet he was working on. Barry didn’t have any kids, not aside from Wally who might as well count. Did that mean…?

“I’d tell you to watch your sass in your new position,” Barry continued, unaware or uncaring of Danny’s sudden crisis about the idea of children, “but one, I’d be a hypocrite and two, it’s a solid third of the reason I recommended you.”

“Well, that’s good because the sass isn’t going awa— wait, what new position?”

Barry grinned under his mask in a way that just felt dangerous. Not, like, dangerous in general, but dangerous for Danny who was the focus of that smile. “You’ll see. Flash Two will pick you up Monday at nine am. Don’t worry, you’re cleared off work already.”

“Fla— and he’s gone. That’s great. What the fuck,” Danny said to himself. It was a struggle to focus on finishing up the post event check in and then his reports and then going over his team’s report and then some more paperwork, but Danny managed. As soon as he got home he was immediately was texting Wally.

After the Reveal, Danny had gotten Wally’s civilian number too, but there were strict rules for using that number. Danny understood the caution. Apparently the first number he had been given was encrypted by Batman’s crew, which was crazy to think about, even when he was dating a Flash, so there were less rules other than no civilian names. Just for the ease of it, Danny mostly stuck to the old number unless they were planning a purely civilian date. Or if Danny wanted to say things that he knew would make Wally blush. Things Danny would very much never want anyone else to read. They may have mostly kept to kissing in person, but teasing Wally was just too much fun.

Danny: Why is Big!Flash having you pick me up on Monday??? What did he mean about a ‘new position’?????? I like my job! FLASH!

Quick Boy: You’ve got to give me a second to answer, dude!

Danny: You’re supposed to be fast. 😑

Quick Boy: Who’s always telling me electrical signals can only move so fast?

Danny: FLASH 🤬

Quick Boy: Sorry, babe, I’m not allowed to tell! But you’ll love it! Promise!

Danny: 🥺

Quick Boy: Don’t make those eyes at me! Trust me, babe, just wait until Monday.

Danny: Fine. But know I’m pouting.

Quick Boy: 😭

Danny behaved. He didn’t bother for updates. He sent more cats dressed as Justice League members and finished off the last Percy Jackson book, sending Wally updates along the way. But the whole weekend the fact that he apparently had a new job he knew nothing about and would be taken to Monday churned in the back of his mind.

It made him anxious in a way that he hadn’t been since he left Amity Park for Central city.

He didn’t much like it.

-

“Please at least tell me that I’m dressed fine for this new job?” Danny asked when he opened the door to Wally’s knock.

He didn’t really have many other options if Wally said no, he already had on his best dark jeans, cleanest boots, and his new cross body bag. He might have a button up shirt he could change into instead of the long sleeve one he was in, but that was as good as it was going to get. He just didn’t have business casual clothes with the jobs he had.

“You look fine,” Wally said.

“Not exactly a supersuit,” Danny said with a sigh, taking in Wally’s uniform.

Wally pressed a quick kiss to Danny’s cheek. “Not the kind of hero you are.”

That was something Wally had been doing, insisting that Danny was a hero. Whenever he protested, it only seemed to make Wally more insistent so Danny mostly let it be. Plus, the cute smile Wally got for ‘winning’ was nice to see.

It was gracing Wally’s lips now as Danny stepped out of his apartment, locked the door, and shoved the keys securely in his bag. One lost set of keys due to super speed was enough to make sure they were safely clipped in from then on.

“Okay. Right, let’s get this over with.”

“It’s a good thing,” Wally insisted as he squatted down for Danny to climb onto his back, “not your execution or anything.”

“I just don’t like not knowing,” Danny said.

“You love surprises.”

“Little surprises like picnics and presents, not life changing ones.”

“You’ll love it,” Wally insisted and then they were off.

-

“I’ll love an abandoned warehouse?”

“Apparently abandoned warehouse,” Wally stressed with a wave of his hands, like he was a two-bit magician.

“Convincing appearance. Once again, Flash, it’s a good thing you’re a hero because this as serial killer vibes.”

The windows were blacked out. There was a heavy layer of dust on most surfaces. The stairs to the foreman office were long rusted away. It was a mess.

But there was that feeling of being watched that crawled up Danny’s spine. None of the dust actually moved as they crossed the floor over to Barry. And the doors were either welded shut or solidly reinforced.

“Ready kids?” Barry asked.

“Still not kids,” Danny replied almost absently.

“Still don’t care!” Barry pressed one of the bricks on the wall and the whole thing shuddered and pulled back like some massive pocket door to reveal a… a portal behind the wall.

“Ta-da!” Wally said, complete with jazz hands.

Danny couldn’t tear his eyes away from the portal to look at him.

Did they know? Was this…?

“Danny?”

“What?” Danny started, forcing himself to look over at Wally who was beside him again.

“You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Danny winced. He just couldn’t hold back the twitch of his body at that word. “Sorry. Um, so what is that?”

“A Zeta tube, it’s how we travel to the Justice League. It’s like a transporter,” Barry explained.

Okay, right, not a portal to the Ghost Zone. No one knew. He was safe. Danny closed his eyes. It was just a transporter that looked a lot like a portal.

Wally rested his hand on Danny’s arm and Danny almost jumped from the light touch. “Babe?”

“Um, remember how I told you there was an accident in my parent’s lab when I was a kid? Yeah, um, sorta similar look, is all. It just freaked me out for a moment.”

"Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” Wally said. He squeezed Danny’s arm gently.

“No way you could have known. Who has a phobia over portals, right?” Danny said as he summoned his best attempt at a smile for Wally.

“Are you okay to…” Wally glanced from Danny to the portal nervously.

“I, yes? Can you just explain to me how it will go?” Danny asked. He pressed himself close to Wally, doing what he could to scrape together his frayed nerves. It wasn’t like he hadn’t gone through the actual portal that had killed him all the time. It was just that now all that felt like a lifetime ago, a lifetime no one remembered but him.

“Of course, babe,” Wally said, twining their arms together before he launched into a passionate explanation of the Zeta tubes.

It would be alright.

He could do this.

He had Wally.

-----

AN: Wally and Barry: We have something so cool to show you! Danny: *has portal based ptsd* ._.

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the masterpost!

[puck-luck]

just visiting | trevor zegras

warnings: one (1!) use of "y/n", semi-public sex, hair pulling, unprotected p on v sex (& creampie), fingering, use of pet names (baby <3), praise, slightly? dom!trevor, cussing (<3), light spanking, uhhh eating come i guess? underuse of the name Trevor and overuse of the pronoun "he" as i am known to do in my writing. pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader summary: the one when reader meets trevor zegras in a bar and has a satisfying one night stand with him in the bathroom <3 wc: 2,554

You’d been dancing with a rotating door of men all night, but your eyes had stayed fixed on one man. He’s sitting at the end of the bar opposite of the dancing floor. In the time since you’d caught his eye, you’d seen him down two beers. He drank them so slow, so lazily that you thought he might’ve been doing it just so you could see the way his lips wrapped around the bottle. He’d come with friends, but they’d all left him a while ago. At this point, it’s well past 2am and you were still waiting for him to get the balls to come over to you. The men who danced with you all thought they had a chance, but you knew and this man at the bar knew that at the end of the night, it would be you two, in a bed, all over each others’ bodies.

The man behind you now is certainly feeling the effects of your rolling hips. His attraction to you is pressing against the small of your back and his hands clutch at your hips, bunching the fabric of your dress. The hem of the dress, a sexy little red number that you only wear when you want to pull someone, is riding up more than you are wholly comfortable with, but the exposed skin has drawn the eye of the man at the bar. In the low light, you can’t tell what color they are, but you know that they’re shining with a challenge. He likes what he sees, but here he is, waiting for the chase. You pointedly roll your eyes at him and turn around to face the guy you’re already with. You’ll make do with what you already have. The guy at the bar isn’t going anywhere.

The guy you’re dancing with is cute, but not turn-your-head cute. He’s got some height on you, just enough that you have to lean up on your tiptoes to rest your arms on his shoulders. He’s got a five o’clock shadow of a beard that rubs nicely against your jaw when he leans down to whisper an invitation back to his place in your ear, but before you can answer, two new hands round your waist and pull you away from him.

“Sorry, but she’s already spoken for,” says the voice from behind you. You glance behind you to find the man from the bar, and you have to choke back a grin. 

The man you were dancing with looks confused for a second, but drops the issue with a raise of his hands. “Sorry, man. Didn’t know.” He walks off, probably in search of a new target for the night. There are only so many people left, considering the bar closes at 4 and it’s nearly 3.

“Finally,” you sigh, reaching up to lace your fingers in the man’s hair. He makes it easier for you, coming down to give the curve of your neck a ghost of a kiss. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry,” he repeats, but it sounds like he’s got a smile on his lips. “Wasn’t sure if you were ready for me.”

“Been ready for you.” You turn towards him and take his hand, guiding it down between your legs so he can steal a touch. You pull it back after just one pass and he groans. 

He leans into your space and captures your lips with his. His tongue traces your bottom lip after only a moment and you open, letting him in. He invades your mouth with his tongue and it’s hot, and passionate, and says everything that you need to know better than he could have put it into words. You break apart and he presses his hips into yours, sneaking one of his hands up to graze over the swell of your breasts. “Bathroom?” He asks.

“Not your place?” You reply.

“I’m visiting,” he says. “And I’m sharing a hotel room with someone.”

You hum, thinking about your options. He’s hot and you’ve been playing this game all night, waiting for this moment. Any of the other guys would have sufficed, but you knew from the first moment you locked eyes with this guy that he would make this a night to remember. Your place wasn’t far, but you tried not to go back to your apartment with strange men, especially since you live alone and your apartment building isn’t the securest– something you learned from an experience with the last guy you brought home… who couldn’t quite understand that it was a one-and-done thing. If this guy wasn’t willing to take you back to his hotel room and kick his roommate out, the bathroom might just be your only option.

“Bathroom works,” you agree and take his hand. You lead him through the crowd of people. You reach the bathroom and knock on the door of the single-stall one, hoping that there’s no one in it. When you don’t hear anything, you test the handle, and it swings open easily. You let out the breath you were holding and smile to yourself, dragging this guy in behind you. He turns you so your back is against the door and traps you there, reaching around to press the lock. He leans down and kisses you again, licking into your mouth right off the bat.

“I’m Trevor,” he says between kisses. 

“Cute,” you reply, sounding a little breathless already. “I’m Y/N.” 

“Nice to meet you.” His hands find their way to the back of your thighs and he lifts you up. You let out an embarrassing squeal out of surprise and automatically wrap your legs around his waist. He chuckles against your lips at your reaction. Still kissing you, he carries you over to the sink and sets you down. Trevor’s deft fingers trace their way to your pussy from your thighs and rub you deliciously.

You let out a breathy moan as he applies just the right amount of pressure to your clit with his thumb before taking it away. He rubs his knuckle up and down your panty-covered folds. “So wet already?” He teases, sounding proud of himself. “All we did was kiss a little.” 

You slide your fingers through his hair and grab on, pulling him back in so your lips reconnect. “I bet you’re no better,” you reply. You mirror his actions, reaching your hand down to feel him. He’s hard, just like you expected, but you didn’t expect him to feel so big. You make a content noise as you continue to palm him through his pants, imagining him inside you.

“Found something you like?” He asks, rolling his hips into your hand as he moves your panties to the side and swipes a finger through your wetness. “I did.” He brings the finger up to his mouth and sucks your juices off of it. “Hmm. Sweet.”

You sigh at his comment and your hands fumble with the zipper on his jeans. He reaches down to help you out, sliding the zipper down himself after batting your hands away. He pushes his pants and boxers down just enough to reveal himself to you. “Trevor,” you breathe out when you catch sight of his cock. It’s pretty and hard and it’s positively leaking. You want to put your mouth on it and go to hop down from the sink, but Trevor stops you.

“Wanna get my fingers in you first, baby,” he says. He delicately slides your panties down your legs and kisses your cheek sweetly before taking them all the way off. He stuffs them in his back pocket and gives you a wink before sliding one of his long fingers inside you. He pumps the digit in and out of you slowly, relishing in the way your walls suck him in and clench around him. 

Your fingers clutch at the bicep that’s holding you in place and moan as his finger speeds up. He adds another, curling them in a way that makes you crave him even more. You grind down on his hand, chasing the orgasm that’s building inside of you. When he starts to press sloppy kisses on your neck, it’s over. He’s leaving a hickey on your pulse point when you clench down on him and drop your head back, seeing stars with every continued curl and pump of his fingers.

“That’s it,” he soothes. “Good girl. Look so pretty coming for me, baby. Want to see it again.” 

He guides you down so your feet are touching the ground and turns you, bending you over the sink. You can see him in the mirror, brown hair messy from when you were running your fingers through it. You drink him in– the flush on his cheeks, the concentration in his eyes as he begins to rub the tip of his cock over your folds. You clench down on nothing and you smile to yourself as his pupils dilate. His eyes flicker up and meet yours in the mirror. You give him a shit-eating smile and he returns it after thrusting inside you. Your mouth drops open and his smile broadens, although you don’t get the chance to see it, considering your eyes are rolling into the back of your head as you adjust to his length.

“Oh my God,” you moan as he fucks into you, rolling his hips slowly just to tease you. You begin to push back against him, trying to meet his hips so his tip reaches that point inside you. His hand reaches up and makes a ponytail out of your hair, pulling it harshly. “Oh my God,” you repeat.

“Stop trying to fuck yourself on my cock,” Trevor admonishes. “Let me do the work, pretty girl. Let me make you feel good.” He lets go of your hair and his hand slides down to hold onto your hip, his other hand resting there already. He speeds up, bucking his hips into you hard and fast, making you shift forward with every thrust. If you thought about it too long, you’d feel the dull pain of the counter pressing against your skin, but right now, all you can focus on is the pleasure of his cock meeting your g-spot with every thrust.

“Trevor,” you whine, dropping your head and reaching down to try and get a hand on your clit. “Please,” you beg, needing just a bit more. 

He raises a hand and spanks you hard enough to leave a pink handprint. He steps back and pulls you with him, so you can reach a hand between your legs and rub furious circles on your swollen bud. Trevor soothes the handprint on your ass with a rub before bringing it down again just to watch the way your ass jiggles. His hips jump when you clench down on him after the impact and Trevor suddenly realizes just how close he is to coming.

“Fuck,” he hisses, bending over and plastering his chest against your back. He reaches around you with both hands, his right battering your hand away to rub your clit for you and his left coming up to your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

The added stimulation sends shivers up your spine and you can’t help the noises that spill out of you.

“Close, baby?” Trevor asks, eyes boring into yours in the mirror.

“So close,” you reply. “Please, Trevor.” You’re not even sure what you’re begging for, what more he could even do for you since his cock is thrusting inside you and hitting all the right spots and his hands feel like they’re everywhere all at once. 

Trevor moans in your ear, thrusting somehow harder into you. “Been thinking about you like this all night,” he groans, then presses a kiss to your shoulderblade. “Show me again how gorgeous you look when you come, baby?”

Maybe it’s the tilt of his head and the way his eyes soften as they meet yours in the mirror, or maybe it’s the way he sounds like he’s pleading with you, like it’s a privilege to see you come undone on his cock. Maybe it’s the fact that you can feel him pulsing inside of you, his thrusts becoming more and more stuttered as he gets closer, but holds off because he wants you to reach that point first. 

No matter the reason, within a split second of Trevor asking you to show him what you look like when you come, your legs begin to shake and you can’t even manage to keep your head up as you let go. Trevor grabs your hair and lifts your head again, and you clench down on him as your vision goes white and your climax overcomes you. 

You hear a strangled moan behind you and feel him let go, painting your walls white as he releases inside you and continues to fuck you through your release. You’re breathless and when your vision returns, you think he’s beautiful behind you, eyes closed and mouth open. Your heart clenches at the sight and you wonder if, in another life, you’d have him like this every night.

“Fuck,” he whispers into the silence after you both have come down from your orgasms. 

“Yeah,” you reply, and you almost frown at the loss when he pulls out of you. You jump when he swipes a finger over your folds and collects some of the fluid that’s leaking out of you.

Trevor turns you around and brings his wet fingers to your lips, staring into your eyes with a silent question. You open your mouth as an answer and suck the come off his fingers, a mixture of both of your pleasure that almost makes you want him again. 

His mouth parts slightly as he stares at your lips around his fingers. He’s lost in the moment as you swirl your tongue around his digits, the same way you would if it were his cock. “You’re so hot,” he mumbles, sounding almost disappointed. “But you know that I’m–”

“Just visiting,” you interrupt, letting his fingers fall from your mouth. You give him a soft smile, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “I know.”

“You were amazing,” he tells you. “Just…” he trails off, then sighs. “Amazing.”

“You weren’t too bad yourself, hotshot,” you reply, leaning up to give him a brief peck on the lips. His hands find their way around your waist and his lips follow yours when you pull away. “But you wouldn’t want to worry your roommate in the hotel, would you? Out so late, they might be scared that you got lost or…”

Trevor lets out a little huff of laughter and bites your lip playfully. “I don’t think he missed me.” He pulls back. 

You pull your dress down so you’re completely covered again. “Well, Trevor, if you’re ever back in town,” you offer, knowing that it’s probably never going to happen again and that this was a spur of the moment thing. “I’ll be here.”

He nods, leaning down to kiss you one more time. You turn around to fix your hair in the mirror, watching him as he retreats, opening the bathroom door and exiting through it. You’ll probably never see him again, but hey, a girl can always hope.

notes: happy first "posted on tumblr & shared in a way that will impact my digital footprint"! this fic comes at the encouragement of my friend hannah (@johncena2020) & trevor was chosen by the one and only wheelofnames.com. let me know your thoughts/comments/concerns/quibbles/questions & reach out if you want!! i'm looking to write as much as i can to get over the bit of writer's block i have had since, like, forever... and smut seems like the perfect way to do it since i'm a huge consumer of the nhl smut genre. xoxoxoxo hugs and kisses always, andy girl <3

[cinnaleaf]

ESSENCE OF US - CH 9: RED CARD* [ft. Jude & Jules]

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 8 | MASTERLIST | READ CH 10

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: ANGST, SMUT, unprotected sex, language, mentions of anxiety, alcohol use genre: angst, fluff, slow(ish) burn romance, brief smau wc: ~12.6k 💌: gala fits were made up in this dizzying head of mine so no links sry. also finally made visuals lol

“Why are you packed like you’re going on tour with Adele?” Trent teased, sitting on the edge of your bed as you tossed multiple outfits into your already overflowing suitcase. You pulled a face at him, glaring playfully. “I have to have options! I can’t have people one upping me at an event like this. Camille will never let me live it down. I need backup fits for my backup fits. I have to plan for any and every thing.”

Trent shook his head, laughing under his breath. “I’m just saying.. we’re only going to be there for a day or two max and you’ve prepared for a month long holiday.” You threw a dress at him, laughing as it landed on top of his head. “Shut up! You just don’t get it. I’m stressed enough just thinking about what to wear to the after party.” You paused, biting your lip, knowing Trent would be a little jealous with your next remark.

“Camille invited Jules Koundé..he’s such a fashionable man. Honestly, he’s gonna be the best dressed at the gala, I know it.”

Trent scoffed, his face displaying a vexed expression. “Nah. It’s going to be me. Jules won’t have shit on my outfit.” You burst out laughing at his confidence, doubling over in giggles. Trent did okay when it came to popping out with different fits, but it wasn’t anything remotely compared to Jules level of execution. “Baby..I’m so sorry to say this but...no one is outdressing Jules. I’ll let you believe you are if it makes you feel better though.” You smirked at Trent, egging him on more in a playful manner. “He literally wore cream on his body as a top and looked good wearing it..if you can top that, then you need to be modelling off the pitch.” 

Trent kissed his teeth, muttering something about how your hype for Jules’ outfit was a little too much. You chuckled as you shifted your attention back to your suitcase, carefully arranging the pile of clothes scattered around the bedroom. “Anyway, Camille’s after parties are legendary. Once all the uppity people go to bed, the real fun begins. Open bar, great music..it’s my favorite part.”

Trent leaned back on the bed, placing his arms behind his head as he relaxed, his gaze landing on your ass while you were leaned over. “Yeah? You gonna outdress everyone there too so I can rip it off you later?” You shot a look at him as you glanced over your shoulder, trying to hide your smile. “See, this is exactly why I need multiple outfits. You’re a menace.”

Trent got up from the bed to make his way over to you, slipping his arms around your waist from behind. “You haven’t had any complaints yet..” His lips brushed your soft skin as his hands moved to caress the curve of your hips. “Baby….” you breathed out shakily, feeling your pulse increase when his lips gently sucked the skin beneath your ear.

“Hmm?”

You turned around quickly, pulling him in for a proper kiss. Well, it was supposed to be a  ‘proper kiss’, but things definitely escalated from there. His mouth moved against yours with pure passion as his tongue slid past your lips, dancing magnetically with yours. You ran your hands over his curls, pulling him closer. His hands roamed to your ass to grip it firmly. Your lips parted slightly to let out a soft moan; Trent tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth before slipping his tongue back in your mouth. Both of you were absolutely intoxicated from the passion of it all. You slid your hands down to his torso, reaching up under his shirt to graze your fingers over the peaks of his abs, feeling the way his heated muscles tensed under your fingertips. You smiled into the kiss, loving the way his body was reacting to your touch. Trent bit back a groan and tightened his grip on you. He slipped a hand into your hair, tugging your head back gently to splay a trail of kisses down your throat which made your entire body feel hot against his lips.

“T-Trent..we need to leave soon,” you pant, making no move to push him away at all.

“Yeah, I know..” he whispered against your neck, making absolutely no effort to pull away either. “We still have time though..” He pushed you against your makeup vanity as you continued to makeout, neither of you noticing your perfume notebook teetering on the upper edge as it slid between the back of the vanity and wall. You moaned against his lips when you felt his hands reach up to massage your chest. “We don’t have that much time,” you said breathlessly, finally pulling away from him. He let out a frustrated sigh but stepped back, his eyes gazing at you while you tried to gather yourself. “Finish packing then, you tease” he grumbled, though you could tell he was joking.

“Thank you,” you said, mind still spinning from your mini makeout sesh. You were still testing out the vanilla and amber perfume you created, which seemed to have an insatiable effect on him.

What the fuck did I put in that perfume? Oh my god..

Once you returned to your suitcases to finish packing, something felt off. You were forgetting something and you couldn’t figure out what. You stood there for a minute, furrowing your brows as you looked around the room until you realized you couldn’t find your perfume diary.

“Wait..where’s my notebook? The lavender one?”

“You probably packed it already,” Trent assured you. “You packed a lot of shit baby. It’s probably in one of these suitcases somewhere.”

“I don’t remember packing it though..” you said, tearing through your luggage as your frustration built. “I can’t leave without it..it’s got all the formulas for the collection I was working on. Fuck.. Where is it?” Trent came up behind you again, resting his chin on your shoulder as he lazily eyed the open suitcases, attempting to help you look. “Relax. You’ll find it.” You sighed, feeling panic rise. “I hope so..I really need that or else I’m going to have to start over. I only have the Rêveur formula on the sticky note. I can’t remember them all.” 

You still hadn’t seen the love note he left you on the random page in your notebook. Little did you know, during the steamy makeout sesh, your precious notebook fell between the wall, out of sight, but not out of mind. You huffed and puffed, frantically searching for the notebook before eventually giving up.

“I’m telling you, I bet it’s in your luggage baby.”

You pouted, crossing your arms as Trent kissed the top of your forehead. “We’ll find it later..but we need to leave before Camille jets off without us. You know how she is.”

“Ugh. I know,” you sighed, still visibly anxious about your missing notebook. You zipped up the last suitcase, taking one last look before heading towards the door. “I really hope this gala goes smoothly. No drama, pleaseee.”

“With Jude there? Debatable.” Trent snickered, heading to the car with your bags to go to the airport.

After your arrival at the airport, you and Trent stood in front of the plane, finally uploading the ‘Tea with T ’ video across all your socials. Your heart started racing when you hit the post button on Instagram. Your hands were shaking slightly, you didn’t know why you were so nervous about a silly little video, it really shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. It was your idea after all. Next to you, an unphased Trent was already sliding his phone back into his pocket.

Seriously? How is he so unbothered with this? He’s so annoying.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t resist the urge to refresh the app multiple times, hoping to glance at any initial reactions. Trent looked over at you, nudging you with his elbow. “Chill. You’ll turn into a mad woman looking at those comments.” He reached for your phone, tucking it away in his pocket next to his phone. “Just enjoy the flight baby.”

“I knowww. I just want everything to be perfect.. but I also kinda want to know what everyone’s thinking right now.”

Trent leaned into you, placing a quick peck on your cheek as you walked toward the steps of the plane. “It will be perfect. Just go with the flow, we’ll look later if you really want to.” You bit your lip slightly, nodding as you walked up the steps to meet the crew.

“Welcome aboard, Mr. and Mrs. Alexander-Arnold,” the greeter said as you stepped on the plane.

“Huh?! Wh-Wait. that’s not.. Uh, we’re not—” your pathetic attempt to let the crew know you were not Mrs. TAA went unheard as Trent laughed, shaking his head. “Got a nice ring to it, yeah? Y/N Alexander-Arnold?”

“T, don’t start..”

The flight to Switzerland was surely going to be interesting. Trent was already getting on your nerves with his antics, and there surely was more to come with to all the different personalities on the flight—Camille, the twins, and Jude. Once the twins saw you walk down the aisle, Ezzie darted over to you, wrapping her arms around you and Trent. “Finally! I was starting to think we’d never meet!” She pulled back, furrowing her brow in deep thought as she eyed Trent, and then you. “Very aesthetically pleasing couple. I ship it.”

“Nice to meet you Ezzie. Hope I’m not hogging her too much.”

Ezzie rolled her eyes playfully, plopping back into her seat. “You kinda are..but it’s whatever. I’ll allow it for now since she looks happy.” She pulled out her phone, scrolling through social media before glancing up at Trent again, speaking in a deadpan tone. “I will drag you if you hurt her. I have a lot of followers y’know..”

Ziggy hung back, crossing his arms while he eyed you and Trent. In his mind, he thought he looked so scary, but the boy had the softest baby face ever. Nevertheless, he persisted, giving Trent a head nod without nearly the amount of excitement Ezzie showed. “You good?” he mumbled, shifting his gaze to Trent’s hand resting on your waist. Trent was unphased though, and offered Ziggy a smile. “Yeah, mate. I’m good. You?”

Ziggy shrugged, eyeing Trent up and down like he was trying to decide if he approved of him or not. “I guess we’ll have to see,” he muttered, slumping back in his seat with an agitated look. You shot him a squinty glance, mouthing at him to stop, but Ziggy smirked as he pulled the strings of his hoodie into a bow. “Just keeping shit real. I don’t know him like that” he retorted.

“Z..stop. Seriously” you huffed, fighting a grin. It was kind of adorable watching your brother act so protective over you. Him and Trent had similar interests, yet Ziggy couldn’t be bothered to strike up a conversation about any of that; He only wanted to size Trent up to see if he was good enough for you. His protective big-little brother act was endearing, yet hilarious.

“Just looking out for you,” Ziggy said, peering out the window as a different plane made its way down the runway.

“He’s fine, Ziggy. You’re worse than me,” Ezzie cut in. Ziggy rolled his eyes, shoving her in the seat next to him as they started mocking each other, marking the start of an incredibly dumb argument, making you and Trent laugh.

“For fuck’s sake, please shut up. Buy 1..Get 1 Free – you two are annoying me already and we aren’t even in the sky yet,” Camille rang out, entering the plane fashionably late with a wine bottle in hand, looking every part of a diva. Jude walked in behind her, flopping into one of the seats to stretch out his long legs. “Damn Camille, do you even know what economy is? This jet is fucking insane.” Camille cut her eyes at him, leaning against the seat—quick with a witty comeback, “Jude, babe, you can’t even drive without your mummy there, so is there really a huge difference between us?” She peered out the window, continuing to mock him, “Maybe I should’ve invited her instead. She’s a bit more stylish than you anyway..”

Camille and Jude were equally as annoying as Ezzie and Ziggy, arguing back and forth about who was more spoiled than the other. Truth be told, they were both extremely spoiled, but neither of them would ever admit it. Ezzie was excited about the gala, scrolling through Pinterest as she began gushing about the heels she was going to wear. “Mum finally let me order René Caovilla, I got the ones with the butterflies that wrap around! Also…a boy at school may have asked me on a date for next week,” Camille overheard the conversation, chiming in to dish out some girl talk. “Oooh, is he cute? Don’t let Z scare him away.” “Camille.. Do I look like a girl who would go on a date with someone ugly? C’mon..you know me.”

You laughed at Ezzie and Camille’s antics, knowing neither of them were girls who would hold back on their opinions. “So, does that mean you said yes? What are you going to wear on the date? And what’s his name?” you asked, continuing the conversation, wanting to know every little detail as the plane took off.

Ziggy was glued to his phone the entire time, until he finally looked up and bluntly switched his attention back to Trent. “Don’t fuck things up with my sister Trent. Or else..”

Jude chimed in, wanting to instigate the situation as he rummaged through the snacks. “I told him the same thing bro. Y/N can do better, huh?”

“Ziggy. Jude. Fuck off” you exclaimed, shooting daggers at both of them. Jude cackled, throwing a snack over to Camille. Ziggy shrugged, not bothered by your reaction at all. “Everyone’s thinking it.” 

You shook your head, turning to Trent to place a kiss on his cheek. “Well, unfortunately for you.. I don’t think he’s going anywhere anytime soon. So, you need to get over it.”

--

The rest of the flight was full of laughter and conversation as the plane cruised to a higher altitude. Jude and Ezzie got into a competitive game of mancala, though neither of them seemed to know what the hell they were doing, which made it even funnier.

“How the fuck do we play this? I’m so confused,” Jude scrunched up his face, looking over at Trent for some help. “Mate, I know you know how to play this. Are we supposed to count them or what?”

“Wait..where am I supposed to put the marbles again? How do we know who’s winning?” Ezzie said, looking just as confused as Jude. 

Trent laughed at both of them, slinking out of his seat to join them and show them how it was supposed to be done. You sat in your seat, wine glass in hand, starting to wonder what people were saying about the ‘Tea with T’ video you uploaded before the flight. Your phone was in airplane mode somewhere in one of Trent’s pockets, but the feeling of not knowing what people were saying was eating you alive. It probably wasn’t healthy to feast off social media like that, but you wanted to know. You could only imagine the reactions from the various accounts online. 

Somewhere below the plane, people were enjoying seeing you and Trent in a new light:

MamaTAA: Proud of you both! Can’t wait for Rêveur to launch!

LFC4lyfe_: This was hilarious! But we all know Y/N was behind this video. Trent could never think of this himself and neither could Tyler. 😂

VirgilFans: Y/N saying Ibou and Virgil are funnier than Trent! WE STAN A QUEEN WITH TASTE!

JudeBellingham: I want my own too Y/N. Call it Bellingoal  👀

EzzieBee: This is so cute 😍

ZiggyYLN: nah cool it with the gobble up comment..

footygirl2003: omg i defo thought this was a pregnancy announcement i almost passed away 😂

TeaWithT_stan: Can we make Tea with T a regular thing? This is gold✨

SpillTheBeansUK: Anything else you want to share with us Y/N & T? 👀

PerfumeBabe: Y/N really created Rêveur while getting swept off her feet. Need that energy for me

footiefan_66: I don’t care that something good happened to you, it should’ve happened to me instead!!

yntrent_stans: They literally spent the whole video yapping and giggling. Relationship goals frfr

ReveurRebel: The way everyone in this video is cracking up..this cured my depression

66_luvclub: saving this chat...

SpillTheRooibos: Hold onn.. where’s the tarot reader now? lmao she was WRONG this time 👀

IbouK: Where’s my Rêveur bottle? Thought we were brothers

miumiuofficial: Love with the look Y/N! Check your DM, we sent you something special✨💌

fanacct_taa: WAITTTT they finally follow each other now? Took long enough

bodylanguagexpert21: i watch a lot of videos on tiktok and the way his hand is on her knee? primal instinct. knee touch? he’s saying ‘she’s mine respectfully’. also they keep finishing each other’s sentences soo...they’re in deep

66DreamerCrew: She said ‘my man is my fav’ and I FELT THAT

From the looks of it, the video was a hit. People were loving the banter, the laughs, and the reveal of Rêveur, but you had no idea. You took in the view of the private jet. Being in the clouds made it feel like a world that was far removed from reality, but you were all sitting there chatting it up like it was just an ordinary day; the Swiss Alps blanketed the windows of the plane.

You and Ezzie were in deep conversation about fashion, she was showing you the various dresses she packed, asking for your opinion on each one. “What do you think about this one? Or..maybe this one?” she said, swiping through her phone. “What should I wear to the after party? Ugh. I really can’t decide.” Camille laughed, critiquing every piece like she was Anna Wintour. “That one is cute…but you’re definitely not going to the after party babe. You two talk way too much and it’s adults only.” Ezzie sighed, leaning back in the seat as she scrolled through her phone. “Just three more years..”

Meanwhile, Ziggy glanced up when he noticed you in Trent’s lap, he gave you a tender kiss with his arm around your waist.

“So you’re just going to do all that for everyone to see?”

You immediately rolled your eyes, pulling Trent’s arm away to sit back in your seat so Ziggy would shut up. “Will you stop? He’s my boyfriend. You have to get over it, my god.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to look at it.” 

Trent glanced over at Ziggy before turning back towards you, smiling. “I think he’s warming up..”

--

When the plane started its descent to St. Moritz, you stared out the window, taking in the breathtaking view. Switzerland was so beautiful that is almost felt fake. The Alps stretched beneath the plane, its peaks powdered with snow. No picture could ever do this place justice, you had to see it to believe it. It was so breathtaking, it almost made you forget about the event that was waiting for you tomorrow.

Badrutt’s Palace Hotel stood on a hill, overlooking Lake St. Moritz like a scene straight out of a storybook. The peaks of the Swiss Alps framed the horizon with golden hued powdered tips from the sunset. This place was unbelievable and felt like something you would see in a movie. You were high altitude, yet the air was crisp and refreshing, every breath making you become one with nature. It smelled faintly of cedarwood and pine, like nature's own perfume wafting around you with every breath.

Right outside the hotel, streets were filled with a parade of the most expensive cars, each one more expensive than the last. The International Concours of Elegance event was also happening during the gala. You weren’t a huge car person, but you could tell these cars were out of the ordinary–cars that belonged to millionaires, maybe even billionaires. There was a Maserati with glossy paint that looked like it could tear through the mountain clad snowy roads with ease. Next to it was a classic Aston Martin oozing in luxury. A few spaces down was a bright red Ferrari Testarossa; it was the kind of car that would turn anyone’s head. The car that caught your eye the most was the Shelby Cobra parked at the end of the line, its candy red paint glistened under the reflection of light with intricate chrome detailing.

“Camille..you said this was going to be more demure this year,” you giggled, not believing what you were seeing. Her parents bought out the entire hotel for a couple of nights; They were extra as hell, but you knew their definition of luxury was a lot different from yours. You didn’t mind it though, they were generous and made sure all kinds of people got to experience the luxury they often basked in, this was what the charity gala was all about after all. “We did tone it down this year..we have half of St. Moritz to ourselves. That’s still pretty intimate” she chirped, entering the hotel.

Badrutt’s Palace was cream of the crop. It resembled a castle, the stone tapering points stretched towards the sky. Inside, the decor was posh with sweeping views of the mountain from every corner. You could hear the strumming of a harp playing from the lobby, where the staff greeted guests with trays of champagne and fondue. This was world class hospitality at its finest. You felt like you were stepping into a snow globe, feeling isolated in the best way possible. The spa was supposed to have the best view, and you knew you were going to have to take advantage of that during your short stay. This place was something you had to see to believe, no description did it justice.

“What do your parents do again?” Jude asked, intrigued by his surroundings as he double fisted two glasses of champagne. “This is the craziest shit I’ve ever experienced.”

“My dad works in private equity..my mum was a fashion mogul back in the ’90s..but now she just lives life,” her voice was flat, not really impressed by his question. She didn’t love talking about her parents’ careers because everyone always came to the worst assumptions, which she hated, being a nepo baby and all.

“Lives life?”

Camille shot him a glance, rolling her eyes as she shook her head. “She spends my dad’s money and I help with that..occasionally.” Ziggy perked up, not missing a beat in the banter. “Me and Ezzie spend Y/N’s money too.” You laughed, shoving your brother playfully. “No..it’s more like the both of you are robbing me. But I’ll get my lick back when you’re signed..don’t worry.”

After a few more minutes of conversation, the group headed to their rooms to relax. Everyone else had rooms on the opposite end of the hall, while you and Trent were furthest away in a suite–it was obvious why. Camille eyed both of you as you walked towards your respective rooms. “I’m guessing I won’t be seeing you two the rest of the night?” she joked, giving you a knowing look. “Honestly, I’m so tired. I’m probably just going to rest,” you replied, yawning.

When you entered the suite, you paused for a moment, looking around the room with your mouth agape. The room was huge and had sweeping views of the mountains, it also featured a balcony that floated above the frozen lake. Trent dropped your bags on the floor, coming up behind you to smack your ass playfully. “Trent!” you yelped, glaring at him while trying to hide your smile.

“Sorry, couldn’t stop myself,” he said with a smirk, wrapping his arms around you as he walked you outside to the balcony. You could feel his heartbeat thumping softly against your back while you took in the breathtaking view. “So beautiful, just like you baby,” he murmured against your ear, brushing his lips against your skin. “We need to come back when it’s not so cold so we can take full advantage of this balcony.” You giggled as his lips travelled down to your neck. “Mmm..I need to unpack..can you chill for a second” you tried to protest, but your voice became weak when he started nibbling on a spot on your neck that drove you wild. Trent turned you around, gently wedging you between the balcony and himself. He trailed soft kisses from your neck to your lips, his lips glistening. He licked your lower lip, grazing his teeth over them lightly.

“You’re sooo…” you breathed out, letting out a shaky laugh. You didn’t want him to stop, but you really did need to unpack. You had to figure out what to wear tomorrow, and possibly find the notebook that had seemingly disappeared out of thin air.

“Hmm? I’m what? Talk to me baby” he whispered between kisses, littering your skin with the softness of his lips. “We have plenty of time to unpack y’know,” He punctuated his words with the sweetest love bites down your neck, just enough to make you debate whether you really cared as much as you were letting on. He brought his lips back to yours and you could taste the sweetness of the champagne from earlier when he deepened the kiss. Eventually, you managed to pull away, taking a deep breath as you smiled at him. “If you let me unpack now, I promise it will be worth it later.” Trent smirked, giving you one last kiss before releasing you. “Oh yeah? C’mon then.” 

You both sorted through your luggage, but you still couldn’t find the notebook. You frowned, crossing your arms. “Ughhh, I really don’t think I packed it.” Trent glanced over at you, getting up to search through one of your bags to help. After a couple of minutes of searching, he stopped, holding onto something with an amused look splattered across his face. It wasn’t your notebook, but he was surely intrigued.

“Y/N, what’s this?” he asked, holding up a vibrator. “You remembered to pack this but not your notebook?”

You tried to hold in your laughter but burst into a fit of giggles. “I pack that every time I travel” you said, trying to snatch it from his hands while he played with the settings. “Put it back!”

Trent held it up above his head, enjoying your slight embarrassment. “Why do you need this when you have me? I’m not satisfying you enough?” You put your hands on your hips, shrugging as you bit your lip. “Think of it as a teammate, not an enemy” you teased, winking at him.

“Oh yeah? I don’t think I need any help but we’ll see..”

You shivered at his comment, knowing full well tonight would be anything but productive. Camille and everyone else would definitely not be seeing you the rest of the night. 

After a while, you and Trent decided to take a bubble bath together to enjoy your mini holiday. Lavender scented bubbles enveloped both of you as you leaned against the edge, closing your eyes to relax and enjoy the warmth of the water. Trent was across from you, his large hands massaging the arches of your feet. “You good over there?” Trent asked, smiling at you with a playful glint in his eye.

“Yesss, feels like I’m in heaven right now” you sang softly with your eyes still closed. “How are you so good at everything?” He gripped your foot tighter, laughing at your reaction. “Just trying to help you relax, my love.” You opened your eyes, smiling at the sight of the bubbles clinging to his skin under the low light. “I feel like I don’t deserve you sometimes..” you admitted quietly, but he heard you.

“What? Why would you say that?” He paused the massage, looking at you directly. You pulled your legs back, shifting slightly to sit up. “You’re just too sweet to me. I feel like I don’t do enough for you in return..I don’t know..”

“Nah, if anything I feel like I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. I’m always scared I’m going to fuck something up and lose you.” You pouted your lips at his words, shifting in the tub to crawl across the water and sit on his lap; He wrapped his arms around your hips, and you draped your arms over his shoulders, kissing him softly to savour the taste of his lips. “Well..if fate is on our side, that won’t happen, right?”

“Right. Nothing could ever keep us apart” he murmured back, brushing his hands against your spine as his lips connected to yours again. Your tongues danced with each other as you shifted against his body, you felt him harden against you, which caused him to let out a strained groan. “Baby, we gotta get out now. You’ve been killing me all day with this. I need you.”

You shifted back, biting your lip, “Oh? Then take me.”

“Famous last words..”

Trent stood up, bubbles and water cascading down his body when he stepped out of the bath. He lifted you out and carried you back to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed. By the look on his face, he was about to put you to bed. Literally and figuratively.

His fingers brushed the droplets of water on your body as slid his hand down to thumb over your clit in a teasing way; just enough to get the sparks going inside of you. “So wet for me already,” he whispered. Trent was stroking himself with his other hand, watching the sight of you damp and crumbling against him. He reached for the vibrator on the bed from earlier, turning it on and placing it against your clit with a buzz that made you arch off the bed moaning loudly.

“You like that? You’re soaking me already,” he groaned, pushing his dick into you as he began to thrust into your pussy rhythmically. “Not going to last long with you squeezing me like that,” he said, thrusting into you harder and faster. He was determined to make you cum first, always. 

“Babyy! Oh my god, don’t stop. Feels so good.”

Each stroke was perfectly timed with the vibrator pressing into your clit. When he turned the setting up higher, your body tensed up as your orgasm ravaged through you, making you moan his name over and over again in a song of praise. His thrusts became erratic as he watched you cum, completely intoxicated by the view of you writhing and pleading for more. You knew he wasn’t going to last much longer once you felt the rhythm of his strokes weaken, so you gently pushed him off you to put his dick in your mouth. Trent’s hands immediately gripped your hair, groaning your name as he spilled his cum into your mouth. When you pulled back, both of you collapsed on the plush bed in a lust filled haze mixed with drowsiness as sleep pulled you into a state of unconsciousness. Trent watched you sleep for a while, gently stroking your hair and taking the sight of you in before he fell asleep too.

--

The evening of the gala arrived way faster than you wanted it to. You, Camille, and Ezzie were getting dressed in one dressing room, while Trent, Jude, and Ziggy were getting dressed in another.

“You’re kinda giving moon goddess, Y/N. Very on brand for you.” Camille teased from across the room as she lounged in a chair to get her hair done. You eyed yourself in the mirror, looking at the dress you chose for the night. It was one of the many custom pieces you ordered from Elie Saab – made of soft lavender chiffon that shimmered under the light. The gown was backless, faint hints of glitter trailed down your spine to mirror the stars. The stylist added soft waves to your hair to compliment the ethereal moon look you were going for. “You look so dreamy!” Ezzie chimed in, her eyes glued to your dress.

Ezzie was extremely excited about tonight, dawning a Giambattista Valli dress – soft pink tulle with butterfly embroidery. She looked like she stepped out of one of those whimsical tales where the main character is a fairy, leaving a trail of pixie dust everywhere she goes. Her René Caovilla butterfly heels had wings that wrapped around her ankles, sparkling with every step. Ezzie twirled around in the mirror, taking pictures of her outfit from every angle. “Do you think someone from Vogue will be here? Do I look like I’m ready for a modelling contract? That’s the look I’m going for.” You smiled, posing for a picture in the mirror with your younger sister. “You’re killing it babe. They’ll love it!” You both took a glance at Camille as her personal stylist walked around the room, putting the final touches together.

Camille’s outfit was an expected showstopper. She stunned in an over the top Alexander McQueen gown – deep shades of blue and purple, reminiscent of a twilight sky. There were tiny stars hand sewn into the top of the dress and the sleeves cascaded down her arms like shooting stars. Her heels featured twinkling crystals that glittered just like the night sky.

“You’re so fucking extra but I’m here for it,” you giggled, catching Camille’s gaze. She smirked, looking very Mariah Carey-ish. “To be honest, I was going to tone it down..but,” she bit her lip, showing her phone filled with recent text messages from Jules Koundé. “We’ve been chatting a little. Nothing serious but girl..I need him. Gotta pull out all the stops tonight.” You shook your head as you read the messages, fingers grazing over the cloud shaped clutch in your hand to pull out the vanilla and amber fragrance that was becoming your signature scent. “Ooh, I know Jules is going to eat everybody up with his outfit..like there won’t even be any competition.”

--

In the boys suite, the vibe was much more relaxed. Trent stood in the mirror, adjusting the lapel of a custom Tom Ford suit – deep navy that subtly shimmered under the light, with silver threads woven into the jacket to resemble constellations in the sky. The buttons to the jacket were gold and mimicked miniature suns as a nod to the ethereal theme of the night. His gold Audemars Piguet watch settled on his wrist, peeking through the sleeve of his suit. The smell of Rêveur filled the air as he sprayed his wrist and neck.

“Mate..do you think Y/N will like this?” he asked, turning to Jude who was lounging on a couch on the other side of the room. Jude glanced up from his phone and shrugged, “It looks fine, but what about mine? It’s different..”

Jude’s suit was a custom Louis Vuitton piece from a Virgil Abloh collection, a true work of art – an impossibly gorgeous purple fabric, featuring soft satin lapels embroidered with a cloud design. His lavender dress shoes were bold and intricate, making his outfit look sharp and well executed.

“Nah, it’s good. It’s supposed to be different I think. It’s like the Met Gala or something.”

Ziggy was silently fixating on his suit in the corner. He wore a Tom Ford suit, similar to Trent’s – a lighter shade of navy, with subtle golden embroidery around the cuffs to hint at rays of sunshine peeking through a cloud, emphasizing his dreams on the horizon. He wasn’t going to admit it, but Ziggy chose his suit specifically to mirror Trent’s. He secretly admired him, but wouldn’t let anyone know because he was still protective over you. He took a glance at Trent’s Rêveur bottle on the counter, reaching over to secretly spray himself with the scent. Wrists, then neck – just like Trent.

Back at the girls suite, everyone was finally ready. You slipped on your translucent heels that were oddly reminiscent of Cinderella’s glass slippers.

“Okayyy” Camille grinned, clasping her hands together. “Everyone ready?”

The theme for the gala was Elysian Reverie: A Night in the Clouds. Soft fabric flowed from the ceiling to create an illusion that the room was floating in a sea of clouds. There were pastel roses, orchids and wisteria cascading from the ceiling to add to the surreal atmosphere. The walls of the venue shimmered with varying hues of lavender, blush, and pale pink – to make you really feel like you were sitting up above the clouds in a daydreamer’s paradise. Glittering lights were scattered around to make it feel like you were walking through a starlit sky. There was a pianist playing the chords to Halo, soft and melodic to add to the dreamscape.

You and the group made your way to the VIP table, taking in everything around you. Camille’s parents were over the top, and every time you thought they couldn’t outdo the previous year’s gala..they always did. Trent’s hand brushed against yours as you sat down, and he leaned in with a grin, “Kind of feels like we’re in a dream.” You smiled back, placing a kiss on his cheek, “Right? I don’t understand how they do it. It’s insane.” A waiter handed you a menu, and your eyes quickly glanced over it before darting to the dessert section:

~

Wings of Dreams: A Celestial Feast

Starlit Prelude: - Oysters with Champagne Mignonette - Brie en Croûte with Cranberry Compote

Cloud Kissed Whispers: - Black Truffle and Ricotta Ravioli - Creamy Cauliflower Velouté Elysian Reverie: - Roast Quail with Madeira Jus - Charcoal Grilled Wagyu Beef with Miso Glaze - Lemon Sole Meunière with Brown Butter - Vegetable Wellington with Spinach and Goat Cheese

Heavenly Indulgence: - Vanilla Bean Panna Cotta with Raspberry Coulis - Swiss Chocolate Soufflé with Salted Caramel Crème Anglaise - Lavender Honey Crème Brûlée

~

“T..look at this,” you nudged him with your elbow, pointing to the dessert section. “Chocolate soufflé..and we don’t have to make it this time.” Trent laughed, shaking his head as he recalled the memory of the chaotic date that led you to where you were now. “I still can’t believe we burned it.”

Jude was sitting across from you, chatting up a girl from Gran Canaria at the next table. She was very clearly feeding his ego, giggling at everything he said and playing with her hair. Jude was soaking it all in, feeling like he was on top of the world, he even threw in some Spanish to impress her.

“Me encanta tu traje, eres muy guapo” she said with a flirty smile. (i love your suit, you look handsome)

“Gracias! Tu también te ves increíble.” (thank you, you look great too)

She leaned in closer, enjoying the attention he was giving her. “You play for Real Madrid, right? I’d love to go to a game…”

Jude, on cloud nine from drinks and an ego, flashed the girl a sly grin and reached for her phone. “Text me whenever. I’ll make sure it’s sorted.” He entered his number into her phone with ease, handing it back to her with a smile. She was still giggling, enjoying all the attention when he dropped one last line.

“Nos vemos en el Bernabéu, guapa.” (see you at the Bernabéu)

Camille was mid conversation, casually sipping on champagne when her eyes suddenly locked onto Jules making his entrance. Everyone was looking at him, he was wearing something that made every head in the venue turn. “Y/N. Oh my godddd. LOOK. AT. HIM.” she squealed, grabbing your arm to redirect your attention from Trent.

Jules Koundé? He was a visionary – a jewel. He wore a Balmain suit – deep blue fabric nearly radiating from the shimmering lights above. The jacket featured handwritten dreams of French children from the Wings of Dreams charity embroidered in silver and gold thread along the lapel and vest:

Voyager le monde (travel the world) ~ Liberté (freedom) ~ Devenir footballeur (become a footballer) ~ Rencontrer ma maman au ciel (meet my mum in heaven) ~ Avoir un lit à moi (have a bed of my own) ~ Pouvoir acheter des fleurs à ma maman tous les jours (buy flowers for my mum everyday) ~ Faire du cinéma et devenir un grand acteur (become a famous actor) ~ Je souhaite la paix dans le monde (I wish for world peace). His suit had an asymmetrical avant-garde edge to it which made him stand out amongst the crowd. His entire look was the embodiment of a daydream, and Camille was definitely lost in a daydream of her own.

“Oooh! He’s taking it!!! He looks so good. I knew he was going to turn heads,” you said excitedly, giggling with Camille. “Best dressed hands down. He’s so wrong for coming in here and clearing everybody like that.” Camille was staring..well fawning at this point. “Tomorrow is not promised. I need him tonight..and I’m being so serious right now.” she said in a dreamy, dazed voice.

Trent kissed his teeth, leaning back in the chair with an annoyed look. “You both gas him too much.” He was noticeably jealous at the attention Jules was receiving. “That’s a regular suit. Mine’s better.” 

“Nah, man. He’s got us beat,” Jude chimed in, double fisting multiple glasses of champagne again. “I’ll admit it.” He took a long swig, unbothered by his ‘competition’. You glanced at Trent, raising a brow. “Aww baby, are you jealous?? You look good too, so, so handsome.....but Jules’ look is really creative. Maybe we can think of something next year for you if you’re really up for some competition?” Camille laughed loudly as the servers brought everyone’s food over. “Would love to see that.”

The twins were eying everyone in the room, bored out of their minds but still trying to soak in the environment like your parents wanted them to. Ezzie was moving across the room gracefully, chatting with anyone who looked remotely important, especially if they were fashionable. Ziggy was more calculated, scanning the room to try to figure out who looked the richest so he could convince them to donate more money to the charity. They may have only been 15, but they knew how the game worked..thanks to your parents.

After a while, Camille pushed her chair back, standing up. “Time for my speech,” she announced. As she made her way to the front of the room, it grew quiet. The only thing that could be heard were her heels clicking against the marble, hushed chatter, and a strangled cough here and there. You looked over at Jules from across the room, noticing his gaze fixed on Camille.

Oh I know that look, you thought to yourself.

“Hi everyone,” Camille's voice rang out through the venue. “Thanks for being here to support Wings of Dreams tonight. This charity is really special to me.” Her gaze softened as the light caught the emotion in her eyes. “The goal is to make dreams come true for kids who may otherwise never have the chance. Whether it’s becoming a footballer, or simply having a bed to call their own. Every dream matters.” The audience erupted into applause, nodding along with her words. “And tonight we’re doing something a little special..” Camille smiled, looking over at you and Trent. “My talented best friend Y/N, and her equally amazing boyfriend, Trent Alexander-Arnold created an exceptional new fragrance, ‘Rêveur’ that they want to share with the rest of the world. It’s available now and all proceeds go directly to Wings of Dreams. If any of you walked past Trent tonight then you know just how amazing it smells. It’s a dream!”

You smiled at Trent, leaning in for a kiss as the applause grew louder. This was it. The big moment. You felt excited, but nervous. You could see people pulling out their phones, placing orders. Trent got up to talk to a couple of people, suddenly in a mood to yap about Rêveur. People were talking to you too, but for some reason you were feeling anxious. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the attention, but your intuition just felt off. Eventually, you got up to go to the restroom before dessert was served. It felt strangely calm compared to the lively ambience of the gala. You looked at yourself in the mirror, retouching your makeup when a woman approached you.

“Y/N? Just wanted to say I ordered over 30 bottles of Rêveur to send to family overseas! I was so excited when I heard about the launch! I’ve wanted to smell it ever since Trent mentioned it in that interview. I’m shocked it’s not sold out yet! It’s gone viral!” You blinked, furrowing your brow as you tried to process her words.

“30 bottles?”

There was supposed to be a limit of two due to the limited release batch. Something went wrong, terribly wrong. “Yeah! I wanted to snag some before they were all gone.” She pulled out her phone, showing you her order. Yup, she definitely ordered 30 bottles, no doubt about it. She was unaware of the panic rising within you, but you tried to keep a cool head. “That’s...so nice of you. Thank you so much!” you forced, even though your heart was racing. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You were losing control again. 

You politely ended the conversation and rushed out, pulling out your phone. Your hands were shaking when you tried to log in to the site to see what was happening, but it wouldn’t load properly. “Shittt. C’mon..c’monnn” you muttered under your breath. You were cursing yourself for not double checking everything before the launch. You rang Tara, but it went straight to voicemail; When you tried Ember’s there was no answer. You could feel an anxiety attack creeping in – your vision tunnelled, your brain felt scrambled, voices echoed around you, and you felt like you were walking on unsteady ground. In a hurry to get some fresh air, you bumped into someone. “Oops, so sorry!” you apologized, looking up.

“Hey! Y/N right?” Jules stood next to you, smiling. “You’re Camille’s friend?”

You steadied your breathing, smiling even though you were internally in a tizzy. “Yup. That’s me.” Jules leaned in slightly to hear you better since the gala was too loud for a proper conversation. He could smell the vanilla and amber scent that saturated your pulse points. “Damn. Which perfume of yours is that? It smells amazing.” Whatever you put in that perfume was giving femme fatale – enticing all types of men the entire night. You had much more to worry about though.

“Um..thanks. I’m still working on it.” you smiled again, but your voice was a bit strained. Every word felt like a struggle and you honestly just wanted to get out of there; Jules didn’t seem to notice at all.

“T’as dead ça (you ate that/did good), it smells really good. But..uh, I wanted to ask..how’s Camille?” Jules leaned in closer. He was so close that if someone were to take a glance your way, it wouldn’t look exactly innocent. “She still single? I’ve been thinking about asking her on a date. Think she’d be down?” His tone was casual, but he was unmistakably interested in Camille. The conversation continued a lot longer than you wanted it to, but you couldn’t break down here. That would be embarrassing.

“Oh she’d definitely be down. Why wait, though? I think you should.......”

Across the room, Trent was seated with Ziggy, who finally decided to open up to him. He was sharing stories about growing up with you.

“And that’s why I’m protective over her. She always supports me in everything,” Ziggy said in a vulnerable tone. “If it weren’t for Y/N..I wouldn’t even be playing footie. She made it all happen. Mum and Dad weren’t for it until she convinced them.” Ziggy was pouring his sweet little heart out, but Trent was barely listening. His focus was locked on you and Jules across the room. He saw the way Jules leaned into you, how you laughed at something he said, how your fingers lightly brushed against his suit jacket while you read the written dreams from the children. To him it looked like you were genuinely flirting, and he didn’t like that. Was it the locs that had you so interested? His smile? His voice? The accent? What was it?

The more he watched, the more it made him feel suddenly possessive over you. His jaw clenched while your brother’s words went in one ear, and out the other. Trent stood up, cutting Ziggy off mid sentence to storm over to where you were talking to Jules.

“Right in front of my face, Y/N? You're serious? Class act you are,” Trent’s voice cut through the conversation, demanding and overly confident. You turned, frowning your face. “Wh–what? Trent, what are you talking about? And who are you talking to?” His tone was kind of startling and out of character; you didn’t like it.

“You and Jules..what is this?” he asked, gesturing between the two of you.

“Whoa, man. I was just asking about –”

“Trent, you’re not serious are you?” you snapped, cutting Jules off. “What is wrong with you? We were just talking about–”

“Talking? It looked like you were flirting. I saw you touch–”

You frowned, waving your hands around while the words tumbled out of your mouth. “You’re not even listening to me! What the fuck is your problem?”

“I am listening,” he shot back coldly. “My problem is you.”

Tears pooled in your eyes, your hands were shaking, but you were far from sad. You were pissed. You couldn’t believe he said that. “Me?! Are you stupid or are you dumb? I’ve been nothing but good to you. Why would you even think I’d do something like that? He was asking me about Camille!” Trent’s jaw tightened and his hands instinctively reached for your waist when he stepped closer, like they always did. Except this time it didn’t feel comfortable at all, it felt suffocating. “People are watching, Y/N..” he hissed quietly, his voice commanding, as if you should’ve known better. Suddenly, your vision tunnelled, memories flashed of your ex reprimanding you at a similar event for not being up to par to his future ‘trophy wife’ standards.

~ “You’re embarrassing me. Put that pretty face to good use and lose the attitude” ~ “You wouldn’t have made it through the door without me.” ~ “You’re the problem.”

His words were so vile and wrapped around your heart far longer than they ever should have. They were embedded within you like thorns from roses; he wanted you to fit into the mould of his little world just like your parents did. His hands were constantly on you too, but only to parade you around, never out of affection. He only did it to remind you he was the one with power. Trent wasn’t aware of the way those words made you feel. How could he? You only ever told him enough info for him to have a general idea, but Trent’s words still made you angry. You vowed to never let a man speak to you in that way again.

Rage boiled over you like a volcano, words tumbled out quicker than you could control – fueled by a cocktail of anxiety, frustration, and anger.  “Oh?? Are you afraid I’m going to make you look bad? We can’t have that can we? Always on your best behaviour for the media, huh?” You tore into him because right now, he represented everything cornering you. The pressure was too much. “I’m not the one making a scene Trent, you are. Read the fucking room..maybe you’re the problem.” You tore yourself from his grip, your body shaking from anxiety and anger. “And don’t fucking touch me. I can’t do this. I really can’t.”

One of your heels caught on the floor with you pulled away from him, but you couldn’t care less. You needed to get out, away from his suffocating presence, and away from prying eyes. Trent watched you go, and a part of him wanted to call out to you, but his pride wouldn’t let him. He glanced at your heel and bent down to pick it up. Both of your worlds felt like they were spinning off course.

Fate brought you together, but right now it felt like you were being pulled apart thread by thread. He followed behind you slowly, his anger turning into regret. Trent knew he fucked up the moment the words left his mouth. He wasn’t stupid, but it stung watching you talk to Jules. He had no right to be jealous, you never gave him a reason not to trust you, but seeing you and Jules talking set something off in him. Something irrational, but still there. He was competitive in everything and watching you talk to another man, triggered something in him that he wasn’t proud of. The fear of losing you scared him, making him react in ways he could’ve handled a lot better.

Somewhere else in the venue, Jules had made his way over to Camille after walking away from you and Trent, the gold and silver threads from his jacket shimmered beneath the light. “Ah, look who it is. The Queen of the night! So….this afterparty..you need a ride? Kefa ce soir? (wyd tonight)” Camille’s gaze flicked over to you and Trent across the room before she settled back on Jules. “Bah..en fait.. ouai! (slang for well actually yes)” she replied, pushing her concern for you out of her mind. She figured the two of you were probably arguing over something dumb. Probably some stupid disagreement that would be sorted within the next hour or two. There were much better things to focus on, like the absolute stunner in front of her. She meant it when she said she needed him tonight.

Jules leaned in to Camille, his locs shifted and brushed up lightly against her face. “Or,” he began, voice smooth like the finest silk, “we could take a detour?” The words hung around the air, leaving just enough room for intention with unspoken words that made Camille’s mind race. A detour? What could that possibly mean? Maybe a late night ride driving around St. Moritz in an expensive car before heading to the club? Was it something more private? Did he want sex?? What could they possibly do on this little detour? 

Who knows, but Jules left it open ended on purpose to keep her guessing. He wanted to draw her in. “Vasy.” (ok, lets go)

--

Jude on the other hand, was completely oblivious to everything going on with everyone else; he was having the time of his life chatting with people, dancing, and taking random videos in a buzzed haze before finally settling into a conversation with Camille’s mum. “That car out there..the Maserati? That yours?” 

Camille’s mum laughed, charmed by Jude’s boyish interest in cars. “No.. much too fast for me. My husband’s driving his Cielo for the Concours of Elegance event on the lake tomorrow..but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you borrowing it for a joyride if you’re interested?” 

“The ICE?! With all the ultra rare cars? That man must be a legend!”Jude exclaimed in shock. 

Camille’s mum nodded, enjoying the excitement radiating off of him. “It is quite an event, isn’t it?”

“Yeah..I’d love a joyride but umm..” Jude trailed off, reality hitting him immediately. He scratched the back of his head, making a face. “I uhh..I can’t drive. I usually just get people to drive me around.”

Camille’s mum stifled a laugh, eyeing him with a motherly glint in her eyes. “A young footballer like you can’t drive? Are you only useful on the pitch? Tragic.”

Jude paused, thinking for a solution. He wasn’t giving up the chance to ride passenger in an absolute rocket of a car. “Uh, maybe I can get Trent or Y/N to drive me?”

Camille’s mum set her drink down, pulling out a stylish business card out of her clutch. “You have a face for more than football sweetheart. If you ever have any extended time off the pitch, give me a call. I know some people.” she said, handing him the card with a motherly smile.

“Me??” Jude blinked, staring at the card. “I mean..I did hear you’re an expert so..”

“I am,” she replied confidently, patting him on the shoulder before turning to the valet counter. “You should really get that surgery, dear. But don’t worry, I’ll let them know there’s a passenger prince waiting for his ride.”

--

Back at the table, Ezzie and Ziggy were quietly taking in the scene with curiosity and concern. “I hope it’s nothing serious” Ezzie muttered, glancing at her twin with a worried expression. “They were happy earlier.” Her fingers fidgeted with a napkin, the vibe making her feel anxious. Ziggy shrugged but his face told a different story. He wasn’t as indifferent as he was pretending to be, something in the back of his mind was being pieced together the more he eyed Trent. “Dunno. Could be nothing, could be bad. Hard to tell..”

Ezzie paused, biting her lip as she glanced back in you and Trent’s direction. “But they look like they’re made for each other, right?” Her words trailed into awkward silence, a feeling of teenage angst and telepathic thoughts only twins could have. They just wanted you to be happy.

The twins got up to leave shortly after, grabbing the untouched chocolate soufflé from the table. They didn’t realize it was meant for you and Trent. Not that it mattered anymore, it wasn’t like you were in the mood for dessert after everything. Ezzie and Ziggy made their way to the exit, muffled sounds of the argument filtered through their ears. Neither you nor Trent noticed the twins leaving in the heat of your argument.

Ezzie glanced back once more, catching the moment you pulled away from Trent. “I hope they figure it out. You remember what happened last time…”

“Yeah..I do.” Ziggy said, protective anger laced in his voice. “Trent’s not like him. He won’t treat her like that..he’s kinda cool.” 

A childhood memory resurfaced in Ziggy’s mind when he took one last look at Trent. Ziggy was maybe 5 or 6 years old, not really old enough to fully understand anything but old enough to remember things to form a memory. You were fidgety and on edge being at home, so you took them to the park. Ziggy and Ezzie thought you wanted to escape from being bored, but they had no idea you just hated being at home.

Thinking back on it, Ziggy realized why: your parents. 

You were trying to escape in any way you could. It wasn’t until recently that he figured out those outdoor adventures you took them on were more for you, than them. You were just a teenager, trying to survive your parents unreasonable expectations.

One of those days stuck with him specifically, years before Trent entered your lives in the way he had now. Ziggy had a eureka moment, and could picture the memory play by play. The sun was shining, the air was fresh. You took them to the park like you always did when you wanted to get away from home. To Ziggy, it was just another day of kicking a ball around. That day, you were somewhere else, lost in your thoughts, lazily picking at the grass while you sat on the ground.

An older boy with a football under his arm came up to Ziggy, maybe a little older than you. He was playing with a group of friends and noticed Ziggy struggling to keep up with the ball. He jogged over with a smile, the same one you grew to love a decade later. Ziggy didn’t know who this boy was at the time, neither did you. He passed the ball to Ziggy, joining him in an impromptu drill. It was a moment that stuck with your brother forever, it was the reason he wanted to play footie at all. The memory of the older boy stuck with him when he stepped onto the pitch at every match. Your parents didn’t want Ziggy playing football, but you convinced them because he never shut up about it.

“Mate, wait a minute..” the boy said, bringing the ball back to his feet. “Do it like this. Don’t let the ball control you.”

Ziggy looked at the older boy, mesmerised by his footwork. “Like this?” he asked, trying to mimic Trent’s movements and failing. He had the coordination of a 5-6 year old, paired with short bowed legs, but he tried anyway. Trent laughed, amused with Ziggy’s determination. “Nah, but that’s close. Watch me” He took the ball, demonstrating the right movements. “Try it again. You got this bro.” Ziggy’s little legs worked so hard to keep up with the ball, but he finally managed to get the hang of it after a while. “I did it!” Ziggy glanced over at you, pure excitement in his voice. “Y/N, look what I can do!”

Looking up from where you were sitting, your tired eyes met Ziggy’s and you smiled softly. “Good job, Z” you said with just enough excitement to satisfy a small child. You glanced over at the boy helping Ziggy – it was Trent. You saw him around the park before, but never really paid any attention, your mind was usually elsewhere on the days you came to the park. He gave you a small wave, grinning casually. You waved back, thankful he was keeping your brother entertained while you hid in your thoughts. It was so nice of him to help a little boy who was just learning his way around the ball. 

Ezzie was off to the side, squatting down in the dirt with a stick in her hand; probably drawing stick figures with little dresses and bows on them. She loved fashion even at this age – she was always doodling something. Ezzie was in her own world humming songs, unless someone said something that made her want to share her opinion.

Trent gave Ziggy a pat on the back, pulling him into a playful hug. “See? You got it, I told you! You’re a natural.”

Ziggy looked up at Trent with wide, childlike eyes – like he was his personal superhero. “Umm..can you play with me again next time? I wanna learn more!” he asked shyly, with puppy dog eyes. Trent shrugged, a heartfelt smile on his face. “Yeah lil bro, sure! Keep staying consistent and you’ll be better than me. We’ve got the same legs!” Ziggy giggled at the idea, it was too big for his little brain to grasp at the time, but the words eventually became ingrained in his memory. 

From that point forward, Ziggy started talking about football nonstop. It was a growing obsession. He was always talking about the older boy at the park while he kicked the ugliest ball you’d ever seen around the house. You never told Ziggy the real reason you convinced your parents wasn’t just because of supporting his newfound passion. He kept talking about the boy; he was so relentless and determined about football and whoever this older boy was; it annoyed the absolute hell out of you. Your parents didn’t think football was a good choice for their only baby boy, but you convinced them because you couldn’t stand the endless whines from him begging to play football, you had enough of it. 

One day, Trent gave Ziggy a new ball, a pair of boots that were way too big, and told him to never stop improving; he was actually getting really good at playing. Ziggy only saw him a few more times after that day – until now; he stopped going to the park after joining a youth football club. He kept the ball all these years like it was a sacred relic. At 15, he could fit the boots now; they were his favorite despite having many others. That ball and those boots meant everything to him, he carried the worn things nearly everywhere just in case there was a field to play in. Every time your brother stepped onto a pitch, the memories of the older boy from the park fueled him to be better. Now, Ziggy realized Trent was the one who gave him the ball. He unknowingly inspired him so many years ago, and now Trent was a part of his life again.

The story you were writing together had been drafted long before, without you ever knowing. But that’s the thing about serendipity – you never know where it begins until you trace the threads. Maybe it started with a smile on the train? Or maybe a random day at the park?? Maybe somewhere else entirely.

Moments always seem so ordinary..until they’re not. 

--

When you got back to the suite, you slammed the door behind you, your chest heaving from the tears spilling. You looked in the mirror at your reflection, stopping dead in your tracks – makeup smudged, tears freefalling, stressed beyond belief.

I look so pathetic. Definitely not a cute look. 

You choked back a sob and a strangled laugh, gripping the marbled edge of the sink.

What can I fix tonight? Nothing. What can I do??

Thoughts stirred around your head, but there was only one solution that seemed logical in your mind, for now anyway: get drunk.

Fuck this. I’ll worry about it tomorrow, there’s nothing I can do right now and I’m not letting an open bar go to waste.

You exhaled, wiping away your tears and reached for your makeup bag. It was damage control time. You turned on a playlist from your phone, Pink + White by Frank Ocean playing softly in the distance.

‘It’s all downhill from here.’ ... ‘And make it out when the sun is ruined’

After washing your face, you redid your eyeliner, relined your lips, applied a gorgeous lip combo, and took a long deep breath. The anxiety and anger was still there, but at least you didn’t look like you were on the verge of breaking down anymore. You looked hot.

You eyed the Mugler dress laying on the bed – short, red, very femme fatale. It was the kind of dress you could wear to let your boyfriend know what he would be missing tonight. If he wanted to be an asshole, fine. Two could play that game. You wanted to make a point. Seeing you in red was Trent’s weakness. Whenever you wore red, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from you. It made him feel like you were his, in each and every way. You smirked as you slipped into the dress. The red contrasted beautifully against your glowing complexion. He was going to feel your wrath tonight, you weren’t backing down. He questioned your loyalty, he acted like you did something wrong. But tonight? He was going to see exactly what that mistake cost him. This wasn’t just an afterparty anymore – it was his red card moment.

You grabbed your Loewe sunglasses from a nearby table, sliding them on top of your forehead. Was it dark outside? Yes. But you wanted to give off the look of being unbothered, even though you were far from it. Just as you were spraying your perfume, you felt the tension you always felt when Trent was nearby. You froze for a second, but you knew it was him. You didn’t have time for his shit. Trent stepped in slowly, eyeing your dress. He looked conflicted, with maybe a mix of regret, frustration..and even admiration. You cared but you also didn’t, he was being dumb and you wanted him to feel it, so you gave him the cold shoulder.

“Y/N..” he started, his voice low.

“Don’t.” you snap, cutting him off before he had the chance to get any other words out. You weren’t in the mood for any explanations, and you definitely didn’t need any half assed apologies after his little tantrum. You slid your sunglasses down to your eyes, strutting past Trent and out the door, the scent of your perfume encased him and pulled him in, even though you were walking away. You knew that scent made him feral, left him craving you. But tonight? It would be a cruel reminder that he fucked up; leaving him in the clouds with you just out of reach.

Trent’s gaze followed your every step, every sway of your hips. He shook his head as the door shut behind you, your heel from earlier still in his hand. “Fuck..she looks so sexy right now,” he muttered under his breath, looking around the room. He wasn’t used to this, usually he was the one doing this to others. He sighed deeply, looking over his clothing options. If you were going out like that, he needed to step his game up too. He needed to match your energy, and he knew exactly how to. Trent knew you loved him in white and cream – he picked a crisp white tee, paired with a Prada co-ord of trousers, a jacket, and Prada Cloudburst Thunder trainers. He looked himself over in the mirror after getting dressed, spraying Rêveur on his pulse points again.

It was like the two of you were doing a mating call, trying to get each other’s attention without backing down. But who would win?

--

Downstairs, Jude was waiting for you, leaning against the Maserati Cielo with keys in hand. His smirk turned into a bright smile when he saw you storm out in your red revenge dress. He really didn’t need to ask what happened, he could feel your fury from afar, but he still asked anyway.

“You alright?” he said, handing you the keys as he approached the driver’s side to open the door for you. “If looks could kill…”

“Shut up Jude. Let’s just go.” you command, sliding into the driver’s seat as he closed the door. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.. Guess an angry chariot awaits me.” he said, snickering.

“Oh my goddd, just get in the fucking car Jude.”

You were getting increasingly irritated by the fact that you were the one driving. Jude slipped into the passenger seat while you tapped your nails impatiently against the wheel. Driving was not something you wanted to be doing right now, especially while being anxious and beyond irritated. You didn’t even drive, being a passenger princess was the lifestyle you were living. But of course, so was Jude, except he didn’t have a licence – and you did. You didn’t want to go with Trent, and Camille was busy with Jules doing who knows what. So.. it was down to you tonight. There was no way you were driving back though, the mission was to forget this night even happened. Jude settled in the seat next to you, sprawling his long legs out in a manspread while playing music from a playlist on his phone. You deadpanned on him, scowling. “You really need to get a licence,” you mutter. “This is so fucking stupid Jude! YOU should be driving ME.”

Jude laughed, shaking his head. “Why am I catching strays? What’d I do? You know I can’t drive. Lay off me, yeah?” You rolled your eyes, slamming the car into gear, pulling out into the road with more speed than necessary. This car was fast. Jude leaned in his seat, jamming to the music, very unbothered by your irritation with him.

“I should’ve made you walk,” you say, glaring at him. “You and your friend, I swear..”

After pulling up to the afterparty, the valet took the car and you strutted inside, Jude lazily strolling behind you with his hands in his pocket. All eyes were on you, people whispering as you walked past:

“Mate, that dress… she’s fucking killing it.”

“She’s with Jude? Where’s Trent?? I saw them arguing earlier..”

“Nah, they’re fine. Jude just can’t drive himself.”

“She could step on me in those heels and I would thank her.”

“Bro, if my girl came out looking like that we’d never make it inside.”

“I like her energy, she’s giving unbothered diva.”

“Trent’s in for it tonight…”

You heard every comment, every whisper, but you weren’t fazed by any of it. If anything, it fueled you into having the night you were determined to have. Let them speculate and talk all they want, who cares? Not you..or did you?

The heavy bass of the music reverberated through the floor, a relentless beat kicked in with precision, making the entire room pulse to command all attention. Each step you took toward the bar was synced with the thumping rhythm, every head turning as you passed by. The beat was sharp, almost downright arrogant. Jude looked around, dapping people up as he trailed behind you.

“Lemon drop shots for me, please. Make ’em strong.” you say to the bartender before jerking your head in Jude’s direction. “Get him....something. I really don’t give a fuck what it is.” The bartender nodded, laughing to himself while preparing the drinks. As soon as the lemon drop shots were placed in front of you, you downed two immediately and surveyed the crowd.

Where the hell is Camille? Jules??

Your head turned to the door, seeing Trent walk in. He was on point. The white caught your eye immediately and you scoffed in disbelief. He knew you were down bad for him in those colors.

OH? That’s what we’re doing?

He wanted your attention, but you weren’t willing to give it to him, not after the way he reacted at the gala. No. Don’t be that easy, even if he does look good.

Both of you locked eyes from across the bar while the beat pounded in the background. Trent’s gaze never broke from yours; you both were playing a game without saying a word. Jude was watching the whole thing unfold, downing whatever shot the bartender gave him while he silently clocked the situation like a spectator with front row seats.

You turned back to your last shot, picking it up for another round. While Trent and Jude’s eyes were on you, you dragged your tongue slowly along the sugared rim before tossing the shot back, a sweet burn hit your throat and travelled down to warm your stomach. You licked the remaining sugar from your finger, feeling Trent’s gaze sear into you while you made your way to the dance floor without giving him a second glance. You knew he was watching. That’s exactly what you wanted. Your hips swayed to the beat as you danced with other friends, knowing he was observing every move. He lost control of this little match the minute you slipped into that red dress. You gave him his red card. Now he was stuck watching from the touchline.

Jude strolled over to Trent, more drinks in hand. He was trying to hide the enjoyment emitting from his face while watching his friend's predicament. Neither of them had ever seen you like this, but Jude knew how this was going to play out. He knew Trent wasn’t going to win this time. He handed Trent a drink, unable to hide the smile on his face any longer. 

“Mate..you fucked up, didn’t you?”

honestly, if you made it this far you're a real one and i tysm. lmk what you think, and where you think Camille and Jules went bc i haven't decided 👀 song inspo:

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Series Masterlist

Tag List: @a-beaverhausen @ranisingsnew @ronswhoree @susannahmikaelson @skulliecadaver-blog @yeaiamme2 @nataliewalker93

Compelling Tony Stark to plan the party was surprisingly easy.

Klaus had found that Tony was an exuberant, spirited and animated person who was much too into over indulgence so when he announced a birthday party for his dog, no one was shocked. His dog was old and a loved member of their family so it worked out and the irony was not lost on Klaus, knowing that James forcing his daughter to go to a birthday party for a dog after what he had just done to her dog was a cruel and painful thing that her father wouldn’t think twice about but that she definitely would.

Waiting was the only painful part of his plan and so he distracted himself by focusing on getting Y/n away from New York. Just from listening to her talk and watching her for the last few days he knew she loved rainy/cloudy weather, preferred having privacy, and wanted to be around nature. He had found a perfect house in Washington state that he knew she would love (and knew her father would have trouble finding) that was in the woods away from other people, in a rainy place with plenty of privacy and a maid and chef already hired to work the house. Not to mention he will have an army of Hybrids to help protect his mate as soon as he finds a wolf pack to turn (which in Washington won’t be hard). He bought everything she could possibly want and everything he thought she would like, especially as his Princess had absolutely no experience in sexual situations and he would be able to teach her everything he wanted. An inexperienced Princess with Daddy issues? She would be so eager to please she would give him anything he wants.

The party came about a week after him getting shot and he stayed off to the side away from as many people as possible unless Tony was “introducing him” to one of James’ friends, thinking it would be beneficial to have them compelled to like him at the very least.

From the moment she walked in, Klaus couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. He wanted to rip that dress off of her, she was gorgeous and he found himself mesmerized, even as he felt the glare James Barnes had set on him as Klaus wasn’t exactly being subtle about him ogling his mate. James directed Y/n into one of the rooms with himself and his wife while he went to schmooze with the assholes and Klaus waited, watching his girl and watching James as both himself and his wife began drinking with Tony (as Klaus had compelled Tony to do to excess) before approaching Y/n.

She was sitting in the corner alone with the long forgotten “Birthday Boy” who was a white XL Pitbull named Ghost.

‘Mind if I join you?’ Klaus asked and her head jerked up in surprise.

‘Oh, sure, if you want. Though I’m sure you would be much more comfortable over there.’ She nodded her head over to a group of women by the bar. Parties for people like these men always have the option of women to take home, many of the men never getting married and staying “terminal bachelors” as if it makes them attractive. Klaus believes it just makes them stupid. You have everything except someone to love you and give you a family but you’re content with whores for the rest of your short life? At least Klaus had eternity to find Y/n, when you don’t have that kind of time and you waste it you are just stupid.

Y/n had noticed the girls that had been watching him for the better part of an hour with flirty faces, twirling their hair but he never gave them a second glance which Y/n noticed immediately. Growing up here, every man, even the married ones, stared at those sort of girls at every party but this attractive seemingly single guy isn’t…it struck her as odd but she brushed it off until now.

‘No, here is perfectly comfortable, thank you…I’m Klaus. It’s nice to meet you.’ He held out his hand and when Y/n moved to take it Klaus pulled her hand close and leaned down, pressing his lips to her knuckles, never taking his eyes off of hers.

‘It’s lovely to meet you Klaus. I’m Y/n Barnes, though I’m sure you knew that.’ He could instantly see that she had issue with her name when it came to meeting people.

‘I did know that, Tony told me earlier when you arrived, why are you so sure though?’

Her eyes widened and she stammered a moment. ‘B-because-Well because everyone does. People want to get on my fathers good side and they act like getting to know me first will achieve it. A little advice, just so you don’t fuck yourself on this one. My father hates men talking to me, so getting to know me first is a terrible plan, he’s going to hate you before he even meets you so you should probably just go introduce yourself to him.’

Klaus found the sad look in her eyes to be heart breaking. Her entire life she wasn’t allowed friends, boyfriends, interaction with anyone who didn’t work for her father and even at these parties, something she should enjoy if not just for the human interaction, all anyone and everyone wanted was to get to her father. Men flirted with her and made her feel desirable just to pull the rug from under her by wanting to get on her fathers good side.

‘Thank you, that was very kind advice. However I have no interest in your father, I was just hoping to sit with a lovely girl and have a drink…can I get you a drink?’ She looked stunned but shook it off before nodding her head.

‘Sure Klaus, that sounds nice.’ He moved to the bar and got her a glass of wine and him a bourbon before returning to the couch, sitting on the opposite side of the dog, wanting her to move closer at her own pace knowing it will make her feel more comfortable. ‘Thank you. Are you a new friend of Tony’s? I’ve never seen you here before, the faces here are always the same so it’s easy to spot a new one.’

‘Yes, we met a few weeks ago and he invited me to this, said he wanted me to meet some of his friends. I’m a painter you see, and Tony has bought some of my work, he knows some other men here who love art and might like my paintings.’ Y/n smiled at that, loving that he wasn’t another asshole just trying to use her.

‘Oh wow, I would love to see your work sometime. I admit I’m not much of a great judge but I enjoy seeing how people’s interpretations of art differs from others.’ Klaus couldn’t keep the smile from his face, loving her honest and intelligent answer before standing and holding out his hand for her to take and she did, following him out of the room and into the den to see the paintings that Tony had bought from Klaus as an explanation as to why he’s here. ‘My God, Klaus! These are amazing…I like seeing artwork that makes you feel something…they feel angry but in a sad way, like…like a grasping for control sort of way.’ He watched her face as she looked at his work and he loved that he could make something that could make her smile. ‘Oh God, I’ve offended you, I didn’t-‘

‘Not at all gorgeous, you’re quite right actually. Painting is a metaphor for control. Every choice is mine, the canvas, the color. As a child I had neither a sense of the world nor my place in it but art taught me that one’s vision can be achieved by sheer force of will…you have no control in your life either, do you?’ She looked back at him away from the painting and he instantly reached out to brush away the tears in her eyes, hesitating only a moment as she flinched before gently brushing her tears.

‘How long did it take? Finding your place in the world?’ She asked and he wished he could give her an answer.

‘I have no place in the world…however finding people that you love and being with them makes it all worth living with the little control that you can have-‘

‘Why can’t I have all of it? My father gets to have complete control of everything in his life, and I’m just…’ Klaus took Y/n’s hand and pulled her to sit on the desk, looking at her firmly.

‘Listen to me Princess, your fathers control is an illusion, it’s called money and it’s not real. It’s a social construct that we put way too much worth on and pretend it means we rule the world. Your father is a billionaire, right?’ She nodded. ‘And with that he has men with guns to enforce his rules and push his sense of control on everyone, but if that money was gone that control wouldn’t exist. It’s not real. I mean look at me, I have billions of dollars in money, artifacts, paintings, jewelry, but I don’t try and rule the world. I control my life and what’s important to me, that should be enough…you should be enough and if you’re not then…then he doesn’t deserve you Princess.’

Klaus was sure to leave out the part about him planning to have an army and control much like that of her father but it didn’t matter, because he would do that and still take care of and love her the way her father didn’t.

The next thing he knew Y/n had grabbed ahold of his jacket and pulled him down to press her lips against his. He couldn’t say he was surprised, or displeased, resting his hands on her waist and taking control of the needy kiss. For having no experience she was actually quite good at it and she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her against his chest.

Just as Klaus was about to trail his hands down to her skirt they both jumped, hearing her name being shouted. ‘Hide!’ She whispered harshly.

‘Y/n-‘

‘No time for arguments, I’m not letting you get shot! Hide! Now!’ Y/n pushed him behind the desk and he sighed, crawling under it after pulling her in to kiss him one final time.

‘This isn’t over Princess, you’re mine now.’ He warned, enjoying the blush on her cheeks before she moved back around the desk to the wall where she looked back up at the painting before the door opened and Klaus could hear Steve’s voice.

‘Did you not hear me calling you?’ He questioned, exasperated.

‘No, I heard you, I just didn’t care.’ It took everything in Klaus in that moment not to laugh.

‘Y/n-‘

‘I would appreciate it if we kept all speaking to a minimum of what is absolutely necessary. Why did you come looking for me?’

‘Your parents are leaving, time to go home.’

‘Fine. Let’s go then, I want a shower and my bed.’ The door shut a moment later and Klaus moved quickly, crawling out and returning to the party before anyone suspected anything, watching the family leave.

He was happy to finally know what her lips tasted like on his own but it wasn’t enough. He would have her.

Tonight.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 12

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: I'm tryna rotate as much as possible.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Her name is Margot. She’s talkative but kind. She guides you through everything with patience. Tells you when to close your eyes and look up, how to hold your head, when to pucker your lips. She even explains exactly what she’s doing and why she’s doing it. Despite her demeanour, you still feel utterly stupid. Rather, you feel inadequate. 

Another woman shows up shortly after, as a brush traces the line of your cheek. She introduces herself as Darla, she has a whole rack of dresses lined up for you. Another inward cringe threatens to compress your lungs. 

As Darla presents you with options, you find it hard to breathe. It’s all so overwhelming, especially as a third woman, Erica, appears to do your hair, and a fourth, Nia, to tend to your nails. You could faint as you’re pushed, pulled, and prodded from all sides. 

“I like the red,” Margot suggests as you hem and haw.  

The dresses are all nice but you don’t even know what you’re picking it for. Honestly, none of them suit you. Too much skin for your liking. Not that that stays much; your comfort is jeans and baggy tees.  

Erika hums, “what about the teal, lovey? I do think you’d look marvelous with those cutouts.” 

“Yes, it is a pretty colour. You have the complexion for it,” Darla remarks. 

They’re all so nice but there’s something pitying in their voices. You feel like a child. You don’t belong here. You especially don’t belong with Bucky, apparently, he knows that too. Why else would he have these women plucking and picking at you? 

Margot finishes and brings you a mirror. As you see yourself, you blanch. It’s not bad. In fact, she’s done better than you could ever manage but you don’t look like yourself. You don’t feel like yourself. If he wants you to be someone else, you don’t think you can do that. 

You feel yourself shrinking. Your shoulders slump and you wilt, stuttering but unable to say a word. Margot touches your shoulder. 

“What is it? Hon, have I done something wrong?” 

“No, no,” you croak and bring your hands to your throat, “it’s nice. Really nice but... I need some air.” 

“Of course, Darl, Nia,” she shoos away the stylist pinning your hair, “let her up.” 

The women back off and the fourth watches you from the rack, still holding a sparkly black get-up. You search the room and swiftly head for the door. You let yourself into the hall, fanning yourself with your half-done acrylics. You’re happy at least they aren’t long. 

You pace back and forth, watching your feet pass over the pattern of the hotel carpet. You can run. You could just leave right now. The thought only makes your stomach hurt. No, you can’t. Not after he’s gone to all this trouble. You’d hate to seem ungrateful. 

You continue your incessant laps back and forth outside the door. You hear footfalls from around the corner and pause. You should go back in before someone sees you. You grab the handle. Shoot, it’s locked. You wiggle it as a shadow appears at the end of the hall. You gulp and peer down. 

It’s him. You lean on the door and face Bucky. He wears a dark blue jacket over a black shirt and black pants. There’s patterning sewn into his jacket, subtle spirals all around. His dark hair his combed back to the ends flip out behind his ears and his dark beard glints with silver strands, a patch more obvious on his chin. He’s strikingly handsome. So much so, you can’t understand why you’re there. 

His brows form a vee as he nears and he tilts his head, a tick in his cheek, “what’s going on, doll?” 

“Um, just... locked out,” you turn the handle again to emphasize your point. 

“No, what’s....” he looks at you and gestures up and down with his hand, “no, this won’t do.” 

You blink and pout. After all that and you’re not good enough. He raps on the door with his knuckles and there’s some scuffing from inside before Margot opens it. She steps back to let you in and greets Bucky by name. 

“This isn’t what I wanted,” he urges you ahead of him, his hand firmly around your arm, “it’s too much. She doesn’t need all this. I told you, just a little enhancement. I don’t want her looking like a Barbie.” 

“Sorry, sir, it’s... standard.” 

“Doll,” he stops you with him as he plants himself near the racks of dresses. The women watch him anxiously. “What do you think? The make up; you like it?” 

You peer around and stare at Margot. She worked so hard and it isn’t that it’s bad work. She made you look gorgeous but you just don’t like all the layers. You slant your mouth one way then the other. 

“Be honest,” he insists. 

“I... It’s pretty but a bit... heavy?” You eke out. 

“I agree,” he lets you go, “I appreciate the hard work, Marg, but I want to see her natural beauty shining. And these dresses...” he turns, “these aren’t right. I said light. I said... Mm, no. Doll, what’s your favourite colour?” 

He faces you as you stand in shock. You feel horrible that he’s reproaching them like this. They’ve done all this for you and he’s just going down a list of everything wrong. 

“Erm, purple, I guess but--” 

“Darla, get her something purple. Lavender? Lilac?” He looks at you for confirmation and you just nod. You won’t correct him. “Erica, finish her hair, something a bit less... stuffy. Margot, clean her face up. Nia, the nails are looking good.” He turns to you and takes you by the shoulders, “and you, all you gotta do is be your cute little self, alright?” 

You gulp and nod. You don’t know what to say. He saves you from a response as he brings his hand up under your chin. He leans in to kiss you and your cheeks flame at the awareness of your audience. He pulls back and caresses your cheek before parts completely. 

He checks his watch, “don’t got all night.” 

He marches off, leaving you dumbfounded. He’s like a hurricane, coming in and blowing everything out of sorts. You look around guiltily. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Margot assures with a smile, “come, let’s get you fixed up, dahling.” 

She beckons you over and sits you back down. You give your hand back to Nia to finish the manicure as Erica once more goes to work on your hair. You stare at the wall and let out a nervous sigh. 

“That’s cute,” Margot says, “the way he looks at you.” 

“Hm, yeah,” Erica agrees, “he definitely has the eyes for ya.” 

You close your eyes as Margot gently wipes away the make up with a cool cloth from a package. You shrug, trying not to move too much, “he’s nice. He... did all this. Just for me. I... I didn’t ask for it. I’m sorry he didn’t like it.” 

“No, baby,” Nia says, “this isn’t about us. It’s about you. What do you like?” 

You open your eyes again and frown. That’s a good question. You lower your gaze to your lap and exhale heavily. 

“I’m figuring it out,” you murmur, “I don’t... I don’t get out much.” 

“Oh, this must be so exciting for you,” Erica trills, “oh, how fun.” 

“I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time,” Nia adds, “don’t be nervous. Just enjoy yourself.” 

“Can’t be that hard,” Margot clucks, “on a handsome man’s arm, pretty as a bow,” she cleans her brushes as she talks, “it’ll be a great night. I’m thinking...” she peruses her chest of makeup, “natural tones. A dewy look. Natural, subtle.” 

“Okay, uh, yeah,” you agree, “that sounds nice.” 

“Hmmph,” Erica hums, “she’s a sweetie, isn’t she, ladies?” 

“Nicer than the last one,” Nia cackles. 

You stiffen and shift in the chair. You look at the nail tech then Margot as she compares a tube to your face and shakes her head. You push your lip against your teeth and let it flick out. 

“Last one?” You whisper. 

The women share a look and smile, “well, Mr. Barnes is notorious. Surely, you know.” 

“Oh,” you think of the headlines you scrolled through online, “well, yes, I know. I guess... I didn’t catch what you meant.” 

“Enjoy it. I’m sure you’ll get a few pretty baubles out of it,” Nia says, “and some memories to long for when you’re old like us.” 

“Old,” Margot scoffs, “speak for yourself.” 

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I know. I’m just... another girl.” 

“Oh, dahling,” Margot intones, “but he seems really fond of you, doesn’t he? Maybe he’ll keep ya around a bit longer, eh?” 

You just sit there. You knew better than to believe it was anything but the obvious but it’s still a hard pill to swallow. You stare blindly ahead as Margot remoisturizes your skin. 

“Didn’t mean to upset you,” Margot says. 

“I’m not, I just...” you swallow, “I’m nervous.” 

“Mm, nervous? Well, I think that’s what the bar is for. Erica, fetch some of that rose. She needs a glass, Stat.” 

Your mouth opens to protest but you think better of it. You’ve already caused them enough trouble. You thank them instead and try not to let your shame burn through. They know why you’re there and they’ve left no doubt in you of the same. 

“Make sure to pour me some too,” Margot chirps. 

🃏

You stop after one glass. It makes your inside bubbly and eases the tension just enough that you’re not jittering. You feel better but still not certain. 

The women confirm your fears. This isn’t going to last. It’s not like you didn’t expect as much but hearing it is all the more real. You’re going to have to come up with yet another lie to tell. This one will hurt the most because it will be at least halfway true; you’re still a loser. 

You’ll try to take their advice. You’ll enjoy this night; this once in a lifetime experience. You don’t think you’ll ever be in a casino again in your life. They’re not for you. All of this is just above you. It’s better suited to someone like your sister. You can’t help but wonder why it isn’t Roxie here. 

The clock ticks. Well, not truly. The digital numbers count down the minutes as you linger in the suite alone. The gaggle of women left only a few minutes ago but not without a promise that you’re happy. You are, at least with all they did for you. 

You approach the mirror, almost shying away from your own reflection. You look nice. You might even call yourself pretty. Your eyes look more brilliant with the subtle lining and the precisely coated lashes; not too heavy. And your lips, shiny but natural, your cheeks dewy with a hint of colour to them.  

And the dress. Lavender satin with crystals embedded in the fabric, lines of smaller ones interconnecting the larger stones. You turn and check your figure. You look grown up. It’s ridiculous to think but you do. The heels help, not too high but enough to define your legs. 

You turn and tear your gaze away from the mirror. You don’t want to be vain. Besides, you probably don’t look that good. You just look better than usual. The comparison is enough to skew your perception. 

As you teeter on the heels, waiting, for what, you don’t exactly know. You can surmise what it will all lead to. What he intends. You can’t deny it any longer. A man doesn’t do all this for altruistic mean and even you aren’t that pitiful. Well, you hope not. 

A knock at the door trips you up. Your heart lurches. You’re not ready. But it’s getting late and you know it’s inevitable. You can’t move or speak. You just stare towards the door. 

You hear it open. You blink a Bucky’s shadow appears on the carpet and he strides into your sight. Your eyes meet his and his blue irises sparkle as he sees you. He stops and put his hand to his chest. His forehead lines and he bites his lip. 

“Wow, doll,” he rasps breathily and slowly steps forward, “you look...” 

You press your hands to your sides and give a toothy expression, not quite a smile, not quite a grimace. Sweat speckles along your neck as his gaze bores into you. You’re even more self-conscious as he closes in. 

“I don’t know,” you murmur. 

“What don’t you know?” He asks as he reaches for you and takes your hand. He draws you near, “huh? Look at you, doll.” He purrs, “you look spectacular.” His other hand grazes down your side and he squeezes your hip as he holds you at arm’s length and ogles you, “mm, damn. You wanna know what I know?” 

You peer up at him from beneath your lashes, “what?” 

“That you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. I’m a lucky man to have you walking the floor with me tonight,” he drops your hand and frames your other hip, drawing you to him, “I have half a mind to keep you up in this room.” 

You choke. Your lower lip trembles and you shake your head, “that’s nice but...” you look away. 

“But? You don’t believe me, doll? You think I’d lie?” He challenges. 

“N-no, I didn’t say—but--- before---” you sputter and put your hands on his forearms, “there were others and they were prettier.” 

“Doll, don’t worry about before. This is now. You aren’t them and I’m telling you, you are beautiful,” he trails his hand up and nudges your chin. You look at him again, your cheeks shaking as you try to smile. “Here.” 

He takes your hand, his eyes clinging to yours as he watches you. You can’t look away. Not this time. He leads your hand up his jacket and slips it beneath. He presses it to his chest. You feel the taut muscle beneath and something else. 

“You got my heart racing, doll,” he growls. “That ain’t a lie.” 

[leonw4nter]

Hi🌸

I saw that you were accepting requests so I have one for you. How about bringing husband Leon to the reader's high school reunion? The reader is kind of happy to bring Leon to his old classmates but Leon is so handsome and all that your old acquaintances are wondering why your marriage happened in the first place.

I was thinking about Leon re4r or id, but you can choose anyone!🌸

A Playlist for My Dream High School Romance

Husband!ID!Leon x GN!Reader

Plain Jane: this is what you were in high school, though you didn’t really mind since there was more to being the most beautiful or the most outgoing in school. You always thought you dressed well; not the most fashionable but enough to look decent for school. You also looked fine, not too ugly or too beautiful with the round red framed glasses on your face. The lack of romantic experiences in high school sometimes bothered you but you didn’t mind it overall; you’ve seen the drama of high school romance in your classmates and ultimately decided that staying single is the best option for now… though sometimes you envied it when girls received flowers from their boyfriends or when you saw couples fill out the dance floor and slow danced during the prom. As a dramatic teen, you wailed to your pillow about how you’d never find the love of your life because you were too boring and how you’d always be the third wheel for every couple you’ll meet– hell, you were even confessed to because the boy was double-dog-dared to! You swore that you were destined to only daydream about falling in love with the man of your dreams, dancing under the rain or receiving carnival prices only scenarios that unfolded while you’re fast asleep.

Little did they know, they’d have the maker of their dreams to wake up to in the future; scenes ripped out of a romance novel were no longer bound within the confines of dreams. Leon was more than you’d asked for in the best way possible; he is more than just the beautiful combination of blond and blue, no. The first time you saw him, you thought he looked perfect, the epitome of beauty and charm. As you two got closer and he let you into his life and laid bare his scars for you, you saw that he is not a perfect man– far from it actually– yet you still loved him, maybe even more and much fiercely. You understood and listened to all his stories, accepted him for how he is, the same way he did with you.

Leon’s wedding ring momentarily flashed a bright gold as sunlight reflected from the band, his hands on the wheel as he drove you to your high school. A little nervous was an understatement for how antsy you’re feeling, though you found it stupid to feel this way since these people somewhat remember you and you’re just visiting the school– you literally went to this school for four years and managed to survive each time. Leon stopped the car at a red light, upbeat pop music playing faintly on the radio. He turned to look at you and saw you bouncing your leg, eyes focused and brows furrowed as you stared out on the road. You snapped out of the negative flurry of thoughts troubling you, jerking slightly as you felt Leon’s large hand on your shoulder.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Leon says as he sees you mentally pop back into the car with him. “You okay?”

You nod, giving him a half-smile as you place a hand on top of his that was perched on your shoulder.

“Yeah, just a little nervous,” you say. Just before you could let Leon say another word, you decide to speak up about whatever was bugging you.

“It’s a little stupid, I know. I mean– I went to school with most of these people for about 4 years and managed to do just fine. God, it’s silly of me to be nervous–”

“Hey,” Leon softly interrupts. “It’s only natural for you to be nervous about this. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen them and you’re expecting change in how they act and look and you’re not sure in what way they’ve changed.”

“Yeah that too but… you know, what if I’m like– too boring again?”

“Too boring?” Leon says in a confused yet gentle tone. “Honey, you’re not ‘too boring’ and if they think so then they can buzz off.”

Leon’s words caused some confidence to stir within you, feeling a little better about yourself. This isn’t like high school anymore. You got this! You got this!

Since the red light switched to green, Leon had to withdraw his hand from your shoulder and put it on the brake handle for the car to start moving again.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. If someone’s bothering you, just yelp and I’ll beat them up.” Leon joked.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After a few minutes of Leon driving and hyping yourself up some more, he finally arrives at the school and pulls up into the parking lot. After a few moments of choosing the perfect spot to park, he gets out of the car first in order to open the door for you, which you thanked him for.

You two walked into the entrance and you looked around. Not a lot has changed, not even the color of the paint on the walls though you realized that they probably gave it a fresh coat since it looked much more vibrant than what your memory told you to expect. The lockers were still where they were when you still went to this school but they no longer had the scratched paint and rusting locks, along with the residue of glue from stickers that had been forcefully peeled off.

“Silverlake High School’s Silver Archers,” Leon quietly mutters to himself. “Your school’s mascot is an archer?”

“Yeah. Though we didn’t have an archery club, which I found kinda silly,” you respond.

Leon hums and continues to look at the trophy case, occasionally reading some things out loud.

“Honey look,” Leon says. “I found you!”

He points to a small picture in the case; it was you with your ratty old glasses and a silver medal around your neck, a small trophy on your hands along with some flowers. You lit up as you looked at that image, the memory clear as day; you had won second place in the inter-school extemporaneous speech competition with other neighboring high schools. You shared this fact with Leon, whose eyebrows flew to his hairline as he looked at you and then the case and back to you again, thoroughly impressed.

“I wifed up a genius,” Leon exclaims. “So you managed to win a competition where they asked the world’s most pressing questions and only gave you a minute to compose your answer in front of everybody? And you had to make sure that your answer would fit in 6 minutes? God you’re so cool.”

You giggled a little bit at that, suddenly feeling like the coolest person in this entire Earth. You thought that this win is truly a feat but these facts coming from Leon’s mouth? Your husband saying it? It was as if you were doing his job, saving the world and fighting off the stuff of nightmares with a pistol; it sounded even more impressive coming from him. Now, he was taking his phone out to take pictures of the other awards you’ve won that were displayed on the case.

“Leon, we gotta hurry. The reunion might’ve started already!”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Luckily, you two made it on time. Like magic, you were less anxious compared to earlier and managed to find the courage to even greet some of your classmates. Leon was proud that you were breaking out of your shell to greet them, really feeling it with each laugh and conversation shared with some old acquaintances.

“Oh? Who’s that? He’s hot,” your classmate asks. “Never seen him around before. I wonder if he’s single.”

You turn around to where she’s pointing, only to see that she was pointing at Leon. Your husband. Oh he sure as hell isn’t single.

“Oh him? He’s Leon. My husband,” you say. You weren’t one to get jealous but to hear your classmate call Leon ‘hot’ and wonder if he’s single triggered a reaction out of you.

She looked surprised, looking back at you and then him and back at you again like a deer in headlights.

“Wait… really? Like you’re really married?” she asked and it didn’t sound like she was ready to ask how you two met; she sounded like she wanted to know how someone like him could marry someone like you.

“Yeah, I can make a quick run to the court right now for a copy of our marriage certificate,” you half-joke in order to hide the growing feeling of hurt.

“Uh, haha…,” she mumbles. “He’s everything actually- like he’s really good eye-candy. You’re lucky he chose you, you know.”

“I’m lucky he chose me? What do you mean by that.” you say.

“What do you mean?” She asks, oblivious to the fact on how mean that sounded. Or maybe she was just playing oblivious.

“Nevermind.”

You retreat from the group walking up to Leon and watch people socialize. Before he can even ask, the emcee for the reunion calls everyone’s attention and says some words but even the volume of that loud-ass mic was not enough to drown out the doubt swirling on your mind. You’re only pulled out of your thoughts when you hear her voice again, this time talking to other people about how shocked she is that you’re married to him, out of all people. The plain Jane married to the absolute 10 she’s ever seen and how it’s a little comical to look at when there could’ve been much hotter women. You also hate how she keeps glancing back at him and giggling, not even sparing a glance at you.

“That woman cannot stop looking at me,” Leon whispers to you as he subtly motions to her.

“Her? Yeah, she called you ‘hot’ and ‘eye-candy’. She’s a little surprised to find out that you’re married to me,” you moodily mumble.

“Why is she surprised?,” he asks.

“Well, look at me and then look at you. You’re good-looking. Really good looking and I’m just here. To them, it would be more believable if you married some model or something. It’s like an ‘oh my god how did this marriage even happen’ moment.”

Leon looks at them, trained eyes staring them down for a solid few moments before turning his gaze back to you. “Well I kind of looked at me and then now I’m looking at you and I think you’re good-looking. Like really good-looking. I have a strong, intelligent, and independent person in front of me and I don’t think they need me but they still let me into their life. Yeah, I’m also having a ‘how did this marriage even happen’ moment’ because how did I get so lucky that out of all the people in this world, you fell in love with me and trusted the rest of your life and the lives after this to be spent with someone like me?”, he finishes. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in this world; he probably doesn’t need to look at the night sky in order to admire the stars when you have them in your eyes. The world just melted away into background noise, witness to the genuine love and loyalty Leon yields for you.

NOTE - Finally got to finish another request, a few more to go so just wait for that :)) I love being on break, can't wait for the summer break so I get to write some more (currently on a week-long break after exams, hopefully i passed with high scores on all exams!!). ALSO IT'S RE4R'S 1ST YEAR ANNIVERSARY WHERE I'M FROM LETS GOOOOO RAAAHHHHH 💪💪🔥🔥 I also got resident evil and dmc shirts I begged my mom for (she had no choice but to say yes /hj). Also I'm starting an AO3 account for devil may cry fics, if anyone's interested ;) That's all and thank you for reading my fics, esp to the anon who requested this- I hope you I lived up to your expectations <33 I <33333 UUUUUUUU

The dividers are from @plutism , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[seungrem]

Huening Kai x m!reader

‘Finishing What We Started’ ~*+

summary: After male!reader gets promoted to work for an idol group, he catches a particular boy’s eye. As no-one seems to suspect the two, they spend some time alone while on a retreat.

( idol!kai x intern!reader, smut kinda, top!kai x bttm!reader, mutual feelings )

emoji code:

🧸 ( lil bit of fluff )

🌱 ( oneshot / short story - around 4.5k words )

❄️ ( smut, +18, minors DNI )

☁️ ( stands for y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

A long breath emitted from the mouth of a young man. Holding a small stack of tan files, he looked himself up and down in front of an office of frosted windows. His gray dress pants were neat, his sneakers pristine, and his white button-up complimented his gray ‘B.H.’ vest nicely. After deeming himself ready to enter, he took a step forward and used his free hand to knock, him then pushing his boss’s door open.

“Ah, ☁️. Right on time, per usual.” The boss stood up and greeted ☁️, who greeted back and very carefully placed the small stack of files onto the boss’s desk.

“Hello sir, this was requested yesterday. I thought I would take care of it for you.”

As the boss sat down in his gray suit, ☁️ stepped back to stand between two very nice chairs with green cushions. The office was somewhat large with dark blue carpeting, glass walls, and many desks that held achievements and framed papers.

“I admire how hard you work, ☁️. And because of that, I have a gift for you.”

The boss smiled and pulled a tan file from under his dark brown desk, pieces of paper inside of it. The boss took the papers out and turned the top one around to face ☁️. The boy leaned in to read it.

‘Personal assistant? For a boy group? .. This was supposed to be a gift?’

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t quite understand.. You want me to be a personal assistant?” ☁️ frowned at the sight of the paper, him looking back up to his boss.

“Oh don’t give me that look, this is a great opportunity for you! This is a relatively new group, and they have been climbing the charts for the past year and a half. It’ll be great for you! I promise.”

“Well.. are you going to find a new intern then?” ☁️ felt as though he was being demoted. Who would want to be a personal assistant?”

“I don’t think so, with your help our department has been ahead of schedule and paperwork. If I ever need you back here with me, I’ll just call you over.”

“Do I have an option?”

“☁️, you’re going to be getting paid well! You’ll be making more than some of the people working in this office.” The boss held the weight of his chin on the back of his right hand, as if he was thinking hard.

“Here, I’ll give you a deal. If you last a week helping this boy group, and still don’t like it by then, I’ll talk to our department ‘heads about a different promotion opportunity. The last personal assistant for this group got promoted too quickly, which made things hard for the group’s current staff.. though, now she works alongside me.”

☁️ nodded in understanding- the boss’s tangent was slightly convincing. He liked the idea of going from an overworked, unpaid intern, to a simple assistant who got paid well. Seemed easy enough.

“I understand, I think that I’ll take your deal. Thank you for.. this opportunity.” ☁️ smiled awkwardly.

“Great! I’m so happy that you’re agreeing to this, ☁️. You’re going to do so well, and not only for yourself. You’ll be of tremendous help to this group and their manager. I know it.”

The boss put the papers back into the tan file and handed it to ☁️. Unsure that he made the right decision, ☁️ thanked his boss and placed the file under his arm.

“I expect great things! I’ll see you soon, take care.” The boss nodded his head and ☁️ said his goodbyes. Taking his leave, he wondered how a personal assistant would be so significant in this group’s success. Slowly closing the glass door, ☁️ walked toward the elevator. After working for four months as an intern, he was now “promoted” to a personal assistant. At least now he’d be earning a salary.

After taking the elevator down to the ground floor, he stepped out into the majestic lobby and walked to the reception desk. With floors and walls of marble, there was lots of tapping from people going about their business. Walking toward a large, dark brown desk., he waved to farthest left secretary. She was a tall young woman with dark black hair, a person who had quickly befriended ☁️ during his first few days as an intern. The two spoke often, but ☁️ would always forget her name.

After chatting for a few minutes about ☁️’s meeting with the boss, the secretary became ecstatic.

“You should be happy, you’re spending time around a big idol group! That’s great!”

“Yes, I hope I’ll grow to like it. Do you end your shift soon?” ☁️ looked around to make sure there was nobody waiting in line to speak to his friend.

“I do, would you like me to check you out of work for the day? I was going to do the same in a moment.”

“That would be great, thank you! I’ll hopefully see you soon.” ☁️ took a step away from the counter he was leaning on.

“Of course, see you later.” The secretary smiled brightly and the two waved to each other.

☁️ approached the large, glass doors as beautiful oranges and pinks faded into each other over the sky. He stepped out into the city engulfed in warm tones, bustling streets ahead of him.

“You do know you’re an hour and a half early , right?”

☁️ stepped onto the stone staircase of a large cottage, located in the middle of the countryside. A large, wooden fence overgrown with pink flowers and tall grass surrounded the property. ☁️ looked around at the bight yellow sky, the sunrise illuminating birds and pink clouds. Turning around, ☁️ clutched his small bag and began up the stairs. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light inside the stone house.

A man in all black, including a black mask and hat, stood in front of the doorframe. He took off his hat and placed a hand on the door.

“Hello, yes, I know I’m early. I figured it would be best to come at this time.” Behind the man in black he saw other people in black running around. Many were carrying things such as equipment, dishes of sorts, and cloth materials.

“You figured correctly. I’m the staff director here and it’s a pleasure to have you join us.” He led ☁️ through the small building, the two dodging other staff members setting up skinny poles and cameras. “I heard many things about you, so i’m glad to have you join us.”

☁️ mentally rolled his eyes at the comment.

“It’s a pleasure.” The boy said as the two stopped at a table in what seemed like a dining room. The table had even more equipment scattered over it. The director called a name out and two women turned their attention from the table to the director and ☁️. The director introduced the two to him. The morning quickly began with many introductions, though ☁️ only could recall about half of them.

After a half hour of introductions and explanations, the director sat ☁️ down at the small dining room table. He explained that there wasn’t much that he needed ☁️ to do other than provide personal assistance to the idol group. Thus, the director instructed ☁️ to simply wait outside for a black van.

With a sigh, Cat sat on a small ledge of the house, waiting for what he assumed to be the arrival of the group. The sky was now clear and bright blue, the sounds of leaves and tall grass rustling filling the silence. After a few minutes, a large black van pulled into the dirt road. ☁️ watched from the steps as two older men dragged suitcases out of the vehicle, five younger men climbing out and stretching. Unsure of what to do, ☁️ walked over to the two older men.

“Hello, I’m the personal assistant for the group. Did you need help with the suitcases?” ☁️ held his hand out, prepared to grab a bag or two.

“Hello, I’m their manager, and we will take care of this. The boys have been complaining about being tired, though. Can you take them to their rooms? Make sure that they know all but one of them are sharing. We will decide where they sleep after filming.”

It was then and there that ☁️ realized that he didn’t know why it is that he was there.

‘Is this a music video set? Or maybe this is just for a retreat?’ the boy wondered to himself. His boss at the company building had informed him of who the group was, but of course he had forgotten their name.

He nervously walked over to the 5 tall boys, them all carrying a backpack. One of the boys had two backpacks, both of which seemed heavy.

“Oh, are you from another group? I thought we were filming a ‘To-Do’ here..” A tall boy tilted his head to the side, visibly confused. ☁️ was confused by his confusion, him furrowing his eyebrows unintentionally.

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you an idol?” The tall boy asked again.

“Oh, no. I’m here as a worker. I’m supposed to be your personal assistant.. or something like that.”

“Oh, okay.” The boy was tired, and ☁️ could sense the same feeling from the four behind him.

“I was instructed to take you to your rooms, so please follow me.” ☁️ felt awkward about their conversation, feeling that it was going to be a long day. The boys were ready to follow him, but ☁️ walked up to the one with two bags, him taking one of them and throwing it around his shoulder.

“I’m ☁️, by the way.” He said, beginning down the dirt path to the cottage. The five followed behind, slowly walking up the stone steps as if their energy was being spent with each step.

The staff weren’t running around at this point, most of them sitting around or talking to each other. Everyone stopped what they were doing as the six boys stepped inside. ☁️ smiled awkwardly, the boys behind him quickly greeting everyone. The room began to fill with ‘hello’s and ‘welcome’s as ☁️ led the group to the other side of the house. They arrived to a dimly lit, narrow hallway. There were three frosted glass doors, natural light emitting from the inside. ☁️ thought about the director’s quick tour, him pretty sure this was where their rooms were.

“The manager said that there are three bedrooms, so only one of you will get your own room. He also said that I’m not allowed to let you pick where you’re sleeping.”

The boys all grunted, clearly annoyed with the staff. They all looked at each other, and then back at ☁️.

“They said it was fine if you rest, though. So you can pick them now, just understand that it’s temporary.” ☁️ spoke formally to them, watching as they looked to each other again.

“How do you want to split up?” A boy with big eyes asked, looking around.

“I’m getting my own room, you guys can figure it out.” One of them stated, walking past ☁️ toward the room directly down the hall. Another one of the boys gripped his shoulder, pulling him back.

“No, you and Taehyun can share.”

The group began bickering about the room toward the end of the hall, though one of them stood behind and looked at ☁️. It was the boy who had two backpacks, him seemingly about to fall asleep standing up. ☁️ looked back at him, both mesmerized by his beauty and a bit worried.

“Uh, all of the rooms have two beds. Why don’t you get some rest.” ☁️ opened the door behind him, holding it for the tired boy to walk through. The room was a decent size for such a small cottage- the beds were a few feet apart with a nightstand in between. Wooden floors held beige walls with a few small paintings. Above the bed on the other side of room sat a large window with see-through lavender curtains. A beautiful view of a large garden with flowers of pink and purple added to the scenery of the blue sky. On the other side of the room, a large wooden dresser sat against the wall.

The boy muttered a ‘thank you’ and threw his bag onto the floor. He fell onto the bed, resting his head opposite from the window and toward the door. ☁️ softly placed the heavy bag from around his shoulder next to the bed, then dragging the dropped one beside the nightstand.

“Are you really our personal assistant? We haven’t had one in a while..” The boy mumbled as he laid on the bed, eyes closed. ☁️ walked to the bed on the other side, which was only a few feet from the boy’s.

“What makes you think that I’m not?” ☁️ asked jokingly. A cool breeze flew into the room, brushing against ☁️’s cheeks and neck.

“You’re attractive. And not wearing a mask like a lot of the other staff.” The boy paused. “That’s why Soobin thought you were in a group. I think.”

☁️ was taken aback by the idol’s comment, it making him blush and become nervous at the same time. Analyzing the boy’s soft features, ☁️ realized that he still didn’t know their names.

“Thank you, you’re attractive too. What’s your name?”

The boy opened his eyes and lifted his head. He looked at ☁️ sleepily. “You don’t know our names?”

☁️ choked on his words, a bit embarrassed. “I do.. I’m just bad with remembering them. I’ll know when you remind me.”

The boy laid his head down on his arm, looking at ☁️. “You can call me Hyuka. That’s what they call me.”

Two of the other members busted into the room, Hyuka immediately pretending to have fallen asleep.

“He’s already sleeping?”

☁️ recalled that the tall one was Soobin, but didn’t know who the one with the middle part was. He looked over to Hyuka, who continued to “sleep.”

“Yes, he just fell asleep.” ☁️ stood up, walking away from the bed so that Soobin could place his bag down.

“I’ll just room with Taehyun, then.” The other said, ☁️ following him out of the room and shutting the door softly. The other boy walked into Taehyun’s room across from Hyuka’s, and shut the door.

Now that ☁️ was warming up to the group, he felt better about the time he was going to spend with them. He walked down a few halls to the living room, where the staff director watched a tiny camera being installed into a corner of the ceiling.

“Excuse me.” ☁️ said, standing behind him.

“Ah yes, are the boys resting?”

“Yes, they are. Is there anything you need me to do now?”

“You should rest for a while too. You were here super early. Take the extra bed in one of the rooms and I’ll grab you when we film tonight.”

☁️ felt as though this ‘personal assistant’ job was unproductive. He sighed and nodded, grabbing his bag from a chair on the dining room table. The director followed behind him.

“☁️,” The director tapped the boy’s shoulder as he picked up his bag. He turned around quickly.

“This job.. it may seem fruitless at first. These ‘To-Do’ projects are mostly just a break for the immediate staff, which you are considered. Enjoy your leisure time with the boys before you become a lot more occupied during the promotion projects.”

☁️ understood his position now, him thanking the director for the explanation. The two parted ways, as ☁️ returned to the narrow hallway. He walked all the way down, opening the door very slowly as to not wake the boy sleeping. To his surprise, one of the boys and Soobin slept peacefully across from each other. Retracing his steps, he lightly shut the door and walked over to Hyuka’s room.

Hyuka snored loudly, causing ☁️ to assume that it bothered Soobin. ☁️ walked over to his bed and placed his bag down. He then grabbed a pillow, and walked to Hyuka’s bed. He placed the pillow beside Hyuka. Gently lifting the boy’s heavy head and shoulders, he quickly slid the pillow under. Hyuka’s snoring stopped, and he repositioned himself in his sleep.

Relieved, ☁️ walked over to his bed, passing out as soon as he climbed into it.

A pair of hands lightly shook ☁️’s shoulder. Slowly opening his eyes, Hyuka was on one knee in front of the bed. Behind him, the curtains blew a soft breeze into the room. White clouds flew across the bright blue sky as ☁️’s upper body rose from the bed.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Wanna go for a walk?” Hyuka stared into the boy’s eyes, almost without emotion.

“I’m not sure..” ☁️ rubbed his eyes and threw the blanket off of his legs. He looked over to the window, the bright atmosphere meaning that there was still time before they filmed.

“..let me make sure it’s okay with the staff director.”

Hyuka nodded and stood up, him then walking over to his bed and sitting. ☁️ stood up, grabbed his phone, and opened the door.

“I’ll come with, so we can just leave after.”

Hyuka stood up immediately and walked over to the door, holding it open as the two talked.

“What if he says no?” ☁️ raised an eyebrow. Hyuka smiled at the action.

“You’re our assistant, I command you to go on a walk with me.” Hyuka smiled flippantly, ☁️ rolling his eyes as he walked out of the room.

“That’s not how this works.”

-

Hyuka looked over to ☁️, grabbing his arm. Since the film director had left to his hotel, the manager had given them permission to leave for a bit.

“Be back in a half hour, please.”

Hyuka dragged ☁️ by his arm out of the cottage door, him only letting go when the door was closed behind them.

“Why did you want to go on a walk again?” ☁️ looked around at the nature surrounding the two.

“There’s a path over here. The others were still sleeping, and I really wanted to go.” Hyuka looked from the sky to ☁️, his eyes asking permission to begin walking down the steps and toward the path.

“Lead the way.” ☁️ said with a light smile. The two quickly made their way down the stone steps, and through the grass to the other side of the house. There was a wooden gate blocking the entrance to the garden, which Hyuka power walked over to. ☁️ assumed this was so that he could open the door for him, which he did.

☁️ laughed at the action and thanked him, Hyuka just nodding shyly. The two walked through the bushes and large patches of flowers, ☁️ pretty much following Hyuka as he wandered around. Eventually the two found a bench next to a small bird fountain. ☁️ sat after Hyuka, with their backs now to the cottage.

“We can see our room’s window from over here.” Hyuka turned around to look back at the cottage, ☁️ following his action. The boys gasped as they saw two heads looking at them through the window. Once spotted, those two heads jumped out of view.

“Who’s in our room?” ☁️ asked, somewhat annoyed.

“I think it’s Beomgyu and Yeonjun. They’re nosey.” Hyuka got up and took a few steps to the left. He turned around, motioning for ☁️ to follow. The two walked toward the end of the garden, where the path that Hyuka was talking about was located. It was a narrow dirt path surrounded by tall trees. Sunlight broke through branches above, illuminating small parts of the path. Hyuka once again opened the gate for ☁️, the two then walking side by side.

☁️ would occasionally look over to Hyuka as the two walked in silence, Hyuka occasionally catching his gaze. Hyuka’s face didn’t display an ounce of expression. His lips were sealed, and he was faced forward, aside from when he looked at ☁️.

After a minute or two of walking aimlessly down the path, ☁️ thought to himself out loud.

“I didn’t think idols were this.. nonchalant.” He looked over to Hyuka, who immediately glanced back to him, furrowing his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” Hyuka responded, ☁️ noticing that he seemed almost offended by the comment.

“I just meant that you’re so.. nice. That’s the impression you gave me, anyway.” ☁️ stopped as the two arrived at the end of the path. A large opening in the trees displayed large green fields and mountains. The two were very high up, though it didn’t seem like their elevation was increasing as they walked. A brightly lit bench sat in a dirt area directly in the middle of this opening, large rocks surrounding the ledge.

Hyuka stood next to ☁️, visibly choking on his words. ☁️ felt bad for almost laughing at him, so he grabbed Hyuka’s arm and led him to the bench a few feet in the distance. The two sat facing each other, with ☁️ to the left and Hyuka to the right. ☁️ watched as the sun’s golden rays stretched across Hyuka’s soft skin, the boy finally finding his words.

“You’re nice, too. Idols.. I guess they get a bad reputation. You should get to know me more.” Hyuka looked from the beautiful view to ☁️. “I wanna get to know you more, anyway.”

☁️ was now the one at a loss for words. He wasn’t sure if Hyuka was just being nice or flirting with him. The two boys now staring at each other, Hyuka became embarrassed.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be..”

“No, no, no. It’s fine, you’re fine.” ☁️ didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, and it was clear that Hyuka thought that he made things awkward.

“I’d like to get to know you more, too. You’re sweet.” ☁️ placed a leg on the bench seat and turned his entire body to face Hyuka. The two smiled playfully, leaning into each other.

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Hyuka placed his left arm behind ☁️, as he leaned closer. ☁️ now understood what Hyuka was trying to say. After a few seconds of him processing, Hyuka’s face was only inches away from ☁️’s.

☁️ used his pointer finger and thumb to hold Hyuka’s chin, directing the boy’s lips over to his own. Surprised by his own actions, ☁️ titled his head and placed an arm around Hyuka’s neck. Hyuka responded by placing his left hand under ☁️’s thigh and lifting the boy onto him. With ☁️ now brushing against Hyuka’s torso, the two made out passionately, Hyuka kissing sloppily. Hyuka slowly slid his tongue into ☁️’s mouth, him then doing the same. Their tongues softly brushed against each other as ☁️ ran his hand through Hyuka’s hair, Hyuka gripping his ass.

After a minute, ☁️ lifted his mouth away from Hyuka’s to catch his breath. Hyuka furrowed his eyebrows at the action, placing his lips on ☁️’s neck and kissing gently as a substitute. ☁️ rubbed his hands up and down Hyuka’s chest, panting as he felt the boy’s kisses turn into bites.

☁️ pushed Hyuka’s head away softly, the two looking into each other’s eyes for a moment. Hyuka’s straight hair swayed as the breeze began to pick up.

“Don’t leave marks. If they find out th-”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Hyuka lifted the boy again, adjusting so that ☁️ sat on his hard bulge. ☁️ began rotating his hips on Hyuka as they quickly returned to each other’s lips. Hyuka roughly anchored ☁️’s waist to his hips as he thrusted into him.

Hyuka was bulkier than he looked, and his chest was a fondled through his black shirt multiple times as ☁️ couldn’t get enough of it. As Hyuka’s thrusts became more aggressive, ☁️’s kisses got sloppier.

☁️ occasionally opened his eyes while they made out, the boy noticing that Hyuka’s skin became a bright orange color. ☁️ pulled away from the boy, removing his arm from his around neck and turning to face the sky. It had turned bright orange, the low, pink clouds lingering as the sun was beginning to set. Hyuka wrapped his arms around ☁️’s waist, continuing to feel down the boy on top of him. He looked up expectantly with soft eyes, but ☁️ only let out a troubled sigh.

“We should start heading back.”

☁️ gave Hyuka one last and sudden kiss as he lifted a leg off of the boy. The two now sat on the bench again, in silence.

“Did you know this was over here?” ☁️ looked over to Hyuka, who glanced back as he wiped his face.

“No, it’s our first time in this side of the city.”

☁️ wiped his face and nodded in understanding, him then standing up. Hyuka followed his actions, though he had to readjust the bump in his crotch area. ☁️ smiled at the boy as he shifted his pants around, Hyuka smiling back in embarrassment. His print wasn’t super noticeable in his jeans, anyway.

The two hurried out of the dirt area, and down the path as the forest began to get darker. Hyuka broke the silence after a few minutes.

“Why did you ask if I knew that the bench was there earlier?” He looked over to ☁️, though the dimness of the forest made it hard to see his facial expressions.

“No reason.”

“My intention wasn’t to.. you know, do that. With you.” Hyuka kept his gaze on the boy next to him until he responded.

“I believe you. Though, I think you wanted to do a little more than get to know me.” ☁️ smiled, knowing Hyuka wouldn’t be able to see it. Hyuka grabbed ☁️’s arm firmly as they continued walking.

“No, I want to get to know you. Seriously, I like you.” Hyuka’s voice became whiny, as through he was once again offended by ☁️’s words.

“I’m kidding, don’t worry.” ☁️ removed Hyuka’s grasp from his arm, and instead interlocked hands with the boy. “This won’t be able to go anywhere, though, you know that right?”

Hyuka remained silent for a few seconds, ☁️ sensing that he was unsatisfied with the comment.

“Why not?”

“You’re an international popstar and idol. Did you forget that?”

The two noticed the light from the cottage ahead. By this point, the sky was bright purple, only a few orange clouds still remaining.

“I can make it work. I’ll just hide you.”

☁️ rolled his eyes, though he thought it was cute how seriously Hyuka was taking their conversation.

“Okay Mr. Idol.”

Hyuka let go of ☁️’s hand to walk ahead and open the wooden gate’s door for him.

“Where have you two been?”

The boy with the middle part walked into the living room just as Hyuka and ☁️ did.

“Which one’s this, again?” ☁️ asked jokingly, though he didn’t actually know the boys name.

“You work for us and don’t even know our names?” He exclaimed, his ego visibly hurt.

“That’s what I said.” Hyuka smiled at the face the boy was making- his mouth was open ajar and his eyes were practically squinting. “Fix your face Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun glared at Hyuka, then looking over to ☁️ expectantly. “Well, where were you?”

“We went for a walk down a dirt trail.” Hyuka responded.

“And what’s on your neck?” Yeonjun lazily pointed to ☁️. The boy froze and looked at Yeonjun, then to Hyuka.

“A branch.. fell on him. On our way back.” Hyuka said with a perfect poker face. He broke the facade when he smiled awkwardly to ☁️, almost as to ask for help.

“Yea, the winds were really, well, rough. It didn’t hurt.. but I bruise easily. I guess.” ☁️ held a hand over the bruise and brushed his fingers over it.

“Right..” Yeonjun turned his gaze to Hyuka, who smiled innocently at him. Another boy entered the room, ☁️ not knowing this one either.

“What took you guys so long?” He said, walking into the open kitchen area.

“☁️ has a bruise on his neck.” Yeonjun yelled to him. Huening muttered the word ‘asshole’ under his breath as the boy in the kitchen looked at ☁️.

“Come check it out, Taehyun.” Yeonjun yelled again, trying not to smirk. Taehyun walked over to ☁️, Yeonjun motioning toward his neck. ☁️ hesitantly pulled down his top’s neckline so Taehyun could see it clearly.

“How’d that happen?” Taehyun looked to Hyuka, concerned.

“He got hit by something flying in the wind. We couldn’t see well because it got dark.” Hyuka responded, his voice monotone.

“You said it was a tree branch.” Yeonjun snarled.

“I never said that.”

“You just said that?!” Yeonjun furrowed his eyebrows in both anger and confusion.

“No I didn’t.”

☁️ decided to play Hyuka’s game by teasing the boy. “Yeonjun, are you okay?”

Taehyun looked at Yeonjun and sighed. “The staff will be here soon. Maybe you should rest some more before they come.”

“I should beat you.” Yeonjun grabbed Hyuka’s shirt as Hyuka laughed at him, Taehyun grabbing Yeonjun’s arm and dragging him away.

“☁️, follow me so I can put some ointment on the bruise.” Taehyun said as he and Yeonjun walked away. Yeonjun grilled ☁️ about whether or not Hyuka talked about a branch. ☁️ just shrugged, which made the boy go feral and walk away from him and Taehyun.

-

Taehyun knelt on the bathroom tiles as ☁️ sat on the toilet. The idol carefully applied a cream over the bruise as they sat in silence.

“Alright, all done.”

“Thank you.” ☁️ said as the two stood up. Taehyun placed the cream tube in a small bag. He didn’t turn away from the bag, though he opened his mouth, hesitating to speak. ☁️ noticed and waited for him to do so.

“You should be careful, ☁️. Please, no more branches falling on you. Or Huening Kai.” Taehyun must’ve understood what was going on, ☁️ catching on quickly.

“It won’t happen again.” ☁️ muttered feeling embarrassed. Taehyun also sensed his embarrassment.

“At least don’t make it obvious.”

☁️ nodded, Taehyun finally turning to him and smiling. The two left the bathroom and walked down the hall just as the staff arrived with large duffle bags.

“We’re filming in 10!” The staff director yelled.

-

The filming lasted around 2 hours. The concept of the video was simple, and ☁️ sat behind the camera alongside the director, manager, and other staff. Simply watching the boys in silence, ☁️ occasionally adjusted his hoodie to cover the bruise, or played with the black mask around his face.

The five idols were each given a mission on a piece of paper. They had to find a specific object, though their papers only contained riddles and hints to the other boy’s objects. Soobin and Taehyun quickly shared the hints to each other, leaving out the other three. Beomgyu and Yeonjun teamed up against Hyuka, leaving the boy without any hints. Hyuka wandered around the house, not sure what it was he was loookign for.

Irritated, he gave up and walked over to his room, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. There was a camera hidden in the room, the staff laughing at Hyuka’s behavior.

The staff director snapped his fingers at ☁️, who immediately turned his attention to him.

“Deliver these papers to Huening Kai, please.” He whispered as Beomgyu and Yeonjun had walked into the living room. ☁️ looked at the papers and stood up, them all containing a hint to Hyuka’s item. ☁️ walked over to the room, knocking before entering.

Hyuka was surprised to see ☁️ walk in while they were filming, him lifting his body up to sit and face the boy. Hyuka’s face was red and his eyebrows were arched, making him look mean. ☁️ simply handed the papers to Hyuka, and tiptoed back to where the manager sat on the floor.

Eventually, Hyuka found his item before the others, his prize being that he got to have a room to himself. He knew he was temporarily sharing that room with ☁️, which made him express less agitation towards everyone.

-

The team began to pack the cameras and equipment away to head back home. The five idols were staying behind as the next few days were their mini-vacation.

As ☁️ grabbed his bag from Hyuka’s room, the group’s manager approached him. It was just them two, as Hyuka was still in the living room helping the staff. Standing in the doorway, the manager knocked on the door to catch ☁️’s attention.

“Hello, ☁️. Please feel free to decline the offer, but one of the boys asked if you could stay with them for the retreat. It’s only a few days, and the entire week will be paid. It’s up to you.”

☁️ recalled that his boss gave him a week to work with the group before he could be considered for another position. A week working while also on a retreat sounded great.

“I’ll accept. I just need a ride to the hotel to grab my other bags.”

“I’ll have someone drive you, please come with me.” The manager nodded, motioning ☁️ to follow him. On his way out behind the other staff, Hyuka grabbed ☁️’s arm and squeezed.

“You’re going to stay, right?” Hyuka asked in a low-pitched voice. He was clearly still upset.

“Yes, I’m just grabbing my stuff.”

Hyuka let go of his arm, watching motionlessly as the staff made their way outside. The sky was now pitch black, and light drizzle filling the air.

“☁️.”

“Yes, Hyuka?”

“What’re you doing.”

“I’m just scrolling through social media. Why?” ☁️ turned to face Hyuka as the two boys laid in silence.

“Can you come over here?” Hyuka was lying on his back, once again staring at the ceiling above. Rain droplets lightly tapped against the window beside him. ☁️ rolled his eyes and continued scrolling.

“Why, Hyuka?”

☁️ waited for a response, only to hear Hyuka sigh heavily. He looked over, seeing the boy turn to his side to face the wall. ☁️ turned his phone off and placed it on the nightstand, him then walking over to Hyuka’s bed. He placed his body down behind the boy, wrapping an arm around his torso. Hyuka turned to face ☁️, their bodies only inches apart.

“You still upset?” ☁️ removed his arm from around Hyuka, placing his hand on Hyuka’s chest instead. Hyuka pressed his hand on top of ☁️’s, guiding it along his pecs.

“I’m not.”

“Good.”

Hyuka placed a hand on ☁️’s waist, slowly moving that hand down to his ass. ☁️ felt his body heat up, which resulted in him once again grabbing Hyuka’s chin.

“Wanna finish what we started?” ☁️ asked, Hyuka then pulling the boy’s body into to him. Without saying a word, Hyuka climbed on top of ☁️ and placed himself in between his legs. The two locked lips and let their tongues run loose into each other. It didn’t take long for Hyuka to thrust into ☁️ again, though the thrusts were much more aggressive than earlier.

After another minute or two, Hyuka removed his shirt, revealing his muscular pecs. He smiled at ☁️’s reaction, him then tugging lightly at the boy’s pants. ☁️ was quick to kick the pajama pants and underwear off, watching as Hyuka’s mouth came closer and closer to his cock. Hyuka stroked it for a few seconds before shoving it into his mouth, quickly bobbing up and down. ☁️ couldn’t help but occasionally moan at the sensation. Grabbing Hyuka’s hair, he thrusted upwards into his mouth.

After a while, Hyuka pinned ☁️’s body down to the bed with one hand. He lifted his mouth off of ☁️’s cock, a trail or two of saliva following it. Hyuka then climbed off of the bed to take off his own pants and underwear. Hyuka’s legs were muscular and well defined, surprising ☁️.

He watched as Hyuka climbed on top of him, sitting directly above his chest. He stroked his flaccid cock for a few seconds before placing it right in front of ☁️’s mouth. ☁️ opening slowly, Hyuka waisted no time to thrust into it, making him choke almost immediately. ☁️ pushed the boy away to catch his breath, though Hyuka put it right back in. ☁️ was now the one bobbing his head on Hyuka’s length, which grew much longer as he began using his tongue. Hyuka ran a hand through ☁️’s hair, gripping the boy’s head to make him suck faster. Hyuka softly moaned, clearly enjoying the boy’s mouth.

He pulled his dick out and moved to ☁️’s side, Hyuka then flipping the boy onto his stomach. ☁️ got on his hands and knees, arching his back slightly as Hyuka positioned himself behind his ass. He grabbed ☁️’s shoulders and lifted them upwards so that the boy’s back was against his chest. ☁️ could feel Hyuka’s chest brush against his back as the idol’s big dick twitched in between ☁️’s ass cheeks. Hyuka leaned into the boy, turning his head and locking their lips together. The two rubbed their hips against each other as ☁️’s body became even hotter. ☁️ removed his lips from Hyuka’s and placed the boy’s hands on his waist. Hyuka placed his lips on ☁️’s neck, kissing on it once more. He grabbed his dick, smacking it against ☁️’s ass a few times.

“Ready?”

BONUS

“I thought idols weren’t supposed to get any action.” ☁️ laid on his back with only a tee shirt and underwear. Hyuka rested his head on ☁️’s chest with an arm around the boy’s body, wearing only sweatpants.

“We don’t.”

“Then how’re you so good?” ☁️ slowly ran a finger through Hyuka’s hair. He felt the boy shrug against his body, Hyuka clearly becoming sleepy. ☁️ rolled his eyes as Hyuka closed his, with the company the two provided each other easing them both to rest.

“Goodnight, ☁️.”

☁️ smiled as he continued playing with the boy’s hair.

“Goodnight, Hyuka.”

- 🫂

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

a/n: kai fic woooooo

[silly4seojun]

one kiss is all it takes

content tags: han seo-jun x reader, female reader, characters are aged up to mid 20s, drinking, lightweight best friend that plays matchmaker, tipsy reader, flirting, kissing at midnight, all lowercase intended

author’s note: sorry it’s very late & all over the place heh btw f/n = friend name

———

the new year’s eve party was in full swing by the time you’re ushered past the threshold and into the overcrowded venue; you note how everyone was dressed up to the nines for the occasion, with the men in tuxedos and the women in a variety of gowns and cocktail dresses.

in a bout of anxiousness, you adjust the material of your plunging neckline in an effort to cover your dignity— i should’ve gone with the safe option— but f/n turns to you with a knowing look etched on her face, “relax, tonight’s all about having fun.”

the expression that forms on your face is enough to make her bark out a laugh, “you need a drink.” she didn’t even need to attempt a trip to the booming bar with a waiter walking past with a tray full of flutes of, what you figured to be, champagne— your favourite.

f/n takes two easily, smiling a sweet smile at the not-so-bad-looking waiter before turning back to you, handing you a flute.

“to a good night and an even better 2024!” you toast, clinking glasses and then swallowing back a significant amount of the bubbly alcohol before giving a sound of pleasant surprise and bringing the glass down from your lips.

“remind me again, how did you get us on the guest list?” you couldn’t help feeling like you were out of place, but the sweet taste of alcohol on your tongue soothes your discomfort.

f/n shrugs halfheartedly, “oh y’know, a favor from a friend that owes me.”

you hum in acknowledgment as you scan the sea of people only for your gaze to settle on a man that steals the attention of the room. your eyes couldn’t help the way they followed the man in complete awe as he moved around the room. the low lighting catches the pretty glittering of the embellished pinstripes that ran down the length of his black tuxedo, it makes you think— how can someone be so good looking?

your attention is pulled away from the alluring man to find f/n grinning, in the i know exactly what you were just doing kind of way. “i did say tonight’s all about having fun,” she laughs loudly when you smack her arm, “shut up!” although that doesn’t seem to stop her teasing.

“maybe he can be your new year’s kiss?” she wiggles her eyebrows, swiftly evading your expected smack and swapping your two empty glasses for two full flutes of champagne.

at the mention of the impeding new year, you check the time on the live countdown broadcast situated on the wall beside the bar— 11:13 p.m., forty seven minutes and twelve seconds remaining of 2023. playfully rolling your eyes, you turn away from the man in question, dismissing her taunts with a simple, “as if.”

the dance music gets louder the further you move into the venue, you sip on your new flute of bubbly as you eye the decor that littered the room. the decorations were in traditional nye colours, black and gold; matching the over-the-top dress code.

you’re interrupted by a loud, “i love this song! let’s dance.” f/n skulls the rest of her champagne before you get the chance to remind her she’s a lightweight, “please, y/n!” she adopts her adaptation of puppy dog eyes, pouting when you respond with a quick, and embarrassed, “no way!”

“come on, get in the spirit! dance with me.” f/n doesn’t wait for your answer this time, clumsily grabbing ahold of your hand and pulling you in the direction of the dance floor. you easily down the remaining alcohol and send an apologetic smile to the waiter who you hand the empty glass to.

“i’m definitely not drunk enough for this.” you cringe when you’re finally in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by other, drunk, party goers. although, that doesn’t seem to prevent f/n from dancing to a familiar beat.

you start to dance along with the song, deciding to let loose a little, it’s new year’s eve! somehow in the midst of the chaos, you find yourself enjoying the moment. f/n has a wild grin on her face— one that you can credit the alcohol for— as she dances in a way you can only laugh at, it’s how she normally dances and it’s silly, but you love it.

after a dance battle and encore, you’re short of breath and in need of a drink. in her warped vision, f/n looks back to find you gladly grabbing your third glass of bubbly from another passing waitress, settling at one of the nearby cocktail bar tables. the air was full of the stench of alcohol and hum of 2023’s greatest hit songs, it was practically impossible to ignore, though the sweetness of champagne allows you a moment of bliss as it coats your throat.

you struggle to restrain the corner of your lips from quirking up when f/n staggers over to the table, she clutches the edge to keep her balance.

“oh, look!” a hiccup interrupts her, but she shamelessly points to something behind you. “it’s that guy you were totally checking out earlier.” as if on cue, the champagne you were just sipping on suddenly goes down the wrong pipe, causing you to sputter into a napkin.

you look at her incredulously but she seems to ignore the expression. “why don’t you go over there and introduce yourself?” it doesn’t sound too bad, in theory, until she adds, “it’s almost midnight and you need a new year’s kiss, stat!”

f/n ungracefully stumbles into your side, clutching onto your arm, “i don’t think so.” you attempt to pry your arm out of her grasp but she only clings onto you tighter as she moves towards the stranger.

nerves start to bubble in your chest as you get closer and closer and closer. “oh! i need to go to the bathroo—,” you try your luck with a lame excuse, and for a split second relief floods your system as f/n comes to a stop in her pursuit, but it just as quickly disappears as she shoves you forward, “go get ‘em, tiger!”

“shit, i’m so sorry!” your apology rolls of your tongue— this can’t be happening— when you’re knocked right into him, spilling his drink all over his hand. “my friend is annoyingly… enthusiastic.”

“thank her for me.” his lips stretch into a boyish smile, a tinge of amusement playing on his features as he takes in your frazzled state.

“let me help you clean this up,” you go to find a nearby waiter when he reassures you he can do it himself, setting down the now empty glass and taking out a napkin with one hand and wiping away the stray liquid from the other.

“there. now, as i was sayin’…” he grins a cute smile, you could almost mistake it as being… flirty. “i’ve been wantin’ to talk to you all night.”

you flush at his frankness, “is that so?” you feel hot under his gaze, concluding the champagne that you had been drinking all evening had finally hit you. you giggle to yourself, “well, lucky me then.”

“can i get your name, pretty?” his cheeks seem to mirror yours— pink and warm.

the buzz makes you bolder than usual, allowing you to bite your lip when you smoothly respond with, “only if i get yours, handsome.”

at that, he laughs and it makes your heart jump in your chest. there’s a little smile playing at your lips, when he finally folds, impressed with your flirting.

“seo-jun.” he extends a hand, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“well, hi seo-jun,” you test his name on your tongue, “i���m y/n.” you take his much larger hand in, what you thought was a handshake, but he surprises you with a quick kiss to the top of your knuckles.

the action pulls a shy laugh from you, “that was pretty smooth.”

seo-jun is just as sheepish when he pulls away, “well, y/n, i’ve got a lot more from where that came from.” despite his bashfulness, that doesn’t stop him from closing his left eye to form a wink.

he’s closer now, so close you can smell his cologne and notice the pretty way his eyes crinkle when he smiles and your heart thumps against your rib cage because of it.

f/n and what she said earlier comes to the forefront of your mind, and it seems more like a possibility now but it doesn’t stop the flush from spreading across your cheeks; she was right. ignoring the way your breath catches in your throat when seo-jun watches you, you force the words out of you before you can chicken out. “i don’t normally do this but, uh, did you wanna be my new year’s kiss?”

it’s almost embarrassing how quickly you feel the bud of hope in your chest blooming, and seo-jun doesn’t let you down. “i can’t think of a better way to start the new year off.”

the chanting of the guests is what pulls you back to reality and you don’t believe what’s in motion, it’s too good to be true. you try to look to the crowd to confirm for yourself what’s really happening but seo-jun catches you, his hand cupping your jaw as he guides your gaze back to him. “focus on me, pretty.”

he makes the way he draws you closer to his chest seem so natural and it’s dizzying how handsome he is upon closer inspection. all you can do is dumbly nod as your eyes look up into his, drinking in his appearance. the curves of his lips look so soft and supple at this angle, too tempting not to want to kiss.

four! three!

he bends his neck to minimise the distance between you, now millimetres only separating you. at this reach your lips brush against his a few times, his breath fanning across your face as you patiently wait; waiting for the countdown to, at long last, reach its completion.

two!

you don't take notice of the final cheer as seo-jun finally slots his lips against yours. your hands instinctively move to hold the nape of his neck as your lips become familiar with his. you melt into his warmth, his lips buttery soft and sweet. the way he presses himself further into you, it’s sweet and gentle, it makes your stomach twist into a knot.

when you pull away, starstruck and breathless, seo-jun cheekily grins. “we should definitely do this again.” you can’t help but agree with him; the suggestion doesn’t sound so bad after all.