#something something one direction night changes lyrics

[red-dyed-sarumane]

i asked about kugutsu ashura & showed him the lyrics and he started reading them in chinese & i was like. oh no its a japanese song & hes like WHAT. & read it again & went "im sorry these words like this dont make any sense to me. i think this person is just playing with words to make a cool... like a rap or something" so i mentioned its a series about the world ending & hes like "no it really just seems like playing with sounds"

[sevikasfemme]

my hands are shaking from holding back from you —

— baby's first fic 🥺👉👈 !! i'm a poet and this is my first time writing a full fic for a character so of course it's about our wife, Sevika ❤️

💋you and sevika broke up a month ago; you taunt her to the point of lightly embarrassing you on a phone call with makeup sex 🤭

💋title is just direct lyrics of Dress by Taylor Swift ; fic has loose inspo/association— middle photo tile is a crop from a piece i commissioned by danacrowart❤️

content tags: lesbian sex, reader has a vagina, femme!reader, bottom!reader, top!sevika, jealousy, possessiveness, dom/sub undertones, strap-on use, impact play, implied/referenced drug use, breakup/makeup, some fluff, semi-public sex

word count: 4.6k | read on ao3 | bluesky

You and Sevika had broken up nearly a month ago. She had given you some bullshit excuse about fearing for your wellbeing because of her line of work—fucking self-sabotaging martyr that she was. You called her out on it; told her it was a stupid reason to end the relationship, and she didn’t even argue. Instead, she had the nerve to attempt to reassure you that, despite your shared social circles, things wouldn’t be awkward because the two of you would still be “best friends.” 

You later found out from Ran that there had been some threat made by a disgruntled enforcer involving you, and knowing Sevika, that was probably the impetus that led to her even considering ending things with you. Your safety being at risk. It didn’t change that you were heartbroken, angry, and tear-stained on the best of the days after she left. Not to say that she was doing much better; she’d started chain smoking between glasses of whiskey in the mornings, losing terribly in her games at the last drop; hell, she’d been too dysregulated to work the first three days following the breakup. Silco had never seen her so emotionally volatile.

Despite your heartache, you spent the weeks apart trying to forget Sevika, while all she did was mope in the memory of you—wrestling with her decision that led to her own misery. Inevitably, your friends encouraged you to ‘get back out there,’ to which you, a bit too eagerly, agreed. Were you almost solely motivated by the thrill of potentially seeing Sevika at a location she was known to frequent? Maybe. Still, you let them preen over you, hyping you up as they fawn over how pretty you look; hair and makeup done in the way you knew Sevika liked. The dress you slipped into was not one she had personally seen or had the opportunity to praise. Still, it was her favorite color— something you’d intentionally noted when you bought it out of spite, vying for the opportunity to flaunt it in her direction. It had become the catalyst in your daydreams of getting back together with her— daydreams that were borderline maladaptive, at this point... Still, if she was going to insist on remaining apart, you were going to make her regret it.

The Last Drop never changed— buzzing and neon; alive with shimmer-filled patrons whose pupils were too wide. Arms linked with your friends, letting them move you, you enter the familiar space—your eyes were trained on Sevika’s regular spots; searching for her. You hoped to see her brooding at the end of the stairwell, peacocking while she plays poker in one of the round booths, or smoking near the exit door in the back. Alas, to your disappointment, your eyes don’t find hers, and you are suddenly less interested in being out at all. 

For most of the evening, you mindlessly swipe on one of your dating apps, barely engaged in the conversation amongst your friends. You match with several mildly interesting people—you even set up a date for later that night—but you’re bored; and your eyes keep flitting around the space, hoping for a glimpse of Sevika. The hours tick by, and you’re almost ready to make your friends take you home—but then you hear her voice behind you, saying your name, her tone riddled with confusion, inquisition, and something else you can’t place. 

For a moment, everything around you seems to just stop. Your eyes lock with hers and it’s as if the last month apart never happened. 

“Why are you here?” she continues��� and her tone; it doesn’t sit right with you. Your features settle into a glare, as the prior month of yearning to be with her slams to the forefront of your mind. You were pissed. You open your mouth to give her a smart-ass reply when her voice cuts you off.

“C’mere. We need to talk,” she grunts, her prosthetic fingers curling around your arm unexpectedly, drawing a noise of protest from you. You roll your eyes before letting her drag you upstairs to her office, shooting your friends a look that says, ‘I’m fine’ before she pushes you into the room and kicks the door closed. 

Now she’s scowling down at you, and you’re giving it right back to her, crossing your arms.

“A ‘hello’ would have been preferable.” you snap. Sevika doesn’t flinch or react, sighing before leaning against the door. 

“Why are you here?” she says again, although this time she almost sounds sad. 

Your expression falters only slightly before you reply harshly, “Am I not allowed to be?”

Sevika scoffs, shaking her head, her short hair falling in her face. “You never come to The Last Drop unless I’m with you. You have no interest otherwise—”

You snort, interrupting her. “That was when we were dating,” you clarify, stepping forward and tilting your head slightly to glare up at her. Her eyebrows pull into a concerned arch, her expression softening. She’s looking at you like she’s worried about you, almost making you ease up. Almost. You step closer, examining her. You still cared about her…still loved her, so of course, seeing the subtle bags under her eyes made you wonder if she was taking care of herself. 

“Are you…mad that I’m here?” you ask hesitantly, trying not to fidget with your nails. You were worried; feeling guilty for being so desperate to see her, considering your appearance at The Last Drop had made her look at you like you as if you were a ghost. Now, of course, you were ridiculing yourself for potentially hurting her more by being here. Nevertheless, you were also grappling with the fact that she broke up with you; so did she really have any right to look so distraught at your presence alone? 

She seems surprised at your question, glancing down at your almost-fidgeting fingers, and then it clicks for her; your aloof, irritable demeanor is disingenuous.  A smirk crept onto her face, and you picked up on the upward turn of her mouth. 

You scoff, stepping back away and shaking your head, “Forget I asked—” Now she’s grabbing your arm again. 

“Sweet of you to care, but m’not mad,” she mumbles, “just surprised. Thought I broke your heart,” she clicks her tongue, shaking her head and looking you over. “But clearly you’re doing just fine,” she notes, her eyes lingering on your curves too long. 

“You did break my heart– you insufferable––” You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath and rolling your eyes. You let her circle you before raising your eyebrow at her. “You don’t own the place, you know…” you protest, wanting to know what she’s thinking–what her intentions were, trying to coax it out of her. 

Sevika runs her prosthetic fingers over the strap of your dress, tugging it lightly to bring you closer to her, humming, “Interesting choice of words…” She moves to touch your face, and you swat her hand away. 

“Stop flirting; why did you drag me up here? I’m not leaving just because you’re pissed off that I’m —” 

She huffs at you, snapping the strap of your dress back to your skin, “I’m not pissed off, you brat,” she snaps, pushing you back into the door, her prosthetic arm caging you in as she leans against you, her flesh hand gripping your waist to move you slightly, then reaching behind your hip to lock the door. 

You huff back at her action, “and why are you doing that?” you ask, your eyes flicking down to her hand. Sevika laughs mockingly and runs her hand back up your side. 

“Do you want to be interrupted?” she asks, grinning at you. You look at her in disbelief, a laugh escaping you. 

“Oh no, we are not having sex,” you shake your head, “you have lost your mind if you think—” Your words die on your tongue as her hand shoots up to grip your hair, tugging your head back to look at her. 

“Say that again,” she demands lowly “Tell me, ‘we aren’t having sex’ again, and I’ll stop. I’ll stop coming to The Last Drop altogether,” she smirks, watching your eyes flicker, glazing over–briefly–before sharpening back into a glare. 'Stubborn', she thinks to herself. She chuckles at your lack of response, dropping her head to kiss at your throat. Under normal circumstances, this would be enough to make you cave, to let her throw you on her desk and submit to her like she wanted—but now? You were livid, shocked at her audacity— she broke up with you.

“You have lost it.” You hiss, pushing at her with your fists on her chest. Her gray eyes look hurt before she narrows them at you again, grabbing your chin with her prosthetic hand to make you look up at her. 

“Are you truly trying to pretend that you didn’t come here, dolled up how I like you,” she wets her lips as she eyes your dress “in this new little number, hoping to see me?” she goads, challenging you. You push at her again, and she laughs. “Admit it—you’re dressed up for me, you want me back,” she smirks. 

You turn around to try and leave through the door, fed up with her attitude as you fumble with the lock. Then you feel her grab your wrists, pinning you to the door once again, her front now pressed to your back.

“Admit it” she repeats. You shake your head, rolling your eyes, deciding to poke the bear… 

“I have a date tonight,” you snap, looking at her over your shoulder, watching her face fall into anger. It was as if you had knocked the wind out of her; she could not stand hearing that you had a date planned. The thought of someone else, the sheer potential of someone else, looking at you, touching you, kissing you, hearing you moan their name the way you moaned hers— she wanted to choke you for even suggesting that as a possibility; wanted to hold you down and remind you who you belonged to. 

“Cancel it.” She hissed. 

“No—” you snipe back immediately, your eyes flicking to your phone in your bag. 

Sevika followed your eyes, and rage struck through her as she realized you were planning to keep your date. She wasn’t thinking straight at this point, her possessiveness and jealousy pushing her over the edge. She released one of your wrists, whipping you around to face her and reaching to snatch your phone with the other. Her body was trembling from anger as she loomed above you, her dark gaze locking on yours, her expression cold. 

“Cancel your date.” She said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument, but it just eggs you on, and now you’re fully committed to pissing her off. 

“Why would I do that?” You ask innocently, your teeth dripping with saliva as you smirk at her. “You’re my ex, Sevika, I don’t have to listen to anything you say,” you sneer. Sevika blinks, shocked at your disobedience, something she was not used to in her relationship with you. 

You take it further, grinning, “What? Are you not used to hearing me tell you no?” you taunt, “maybe you should have thought about that before you—” 

SLAP.

The sound of her flesh hand connecting with your cheek is followed by buzzing silence, and you’re acutely aware of the heat pooling in your tummy. You blink back tears, your widened eyes finding hers again. She’s glaring. 'Oh fuck', you think, your face flushing pink from the sting of her slap. 

“You know better.” she says, rubbing softly at the spot on your cheek she’d smacked. You open your mouth to say something, but she’s shaking her head. Sevika grabs a fistful of your hair in her metal hand and drags you across the room, sweeping your legs up and from under you onto the couch before pushing your face into the worn linen of the cushion. 

“If you won’t cancel your date on your own–” she mumbles, lifting your ass and angrily shoving your dress up around your waist, your dampened panties now on display for her, “I’m going to help you,” she snaps, smirking down at your arousal seeping through the cotton of your underwear. You move to sit up, and she splays her fingers across your back, keeping you down. Sevika sucks her teeth, shaking her head as you hear her move her other hand to un-do her pants. That’s a sound you’re familiar with… 

“Sevika–” you protest with warning before your breath catches at the feel of her tugging your panties to the side; familiar silicone slipping up to nudge your clit. You jolt, your back arching further under her hand on your back. Sevika could not believe you had so casually refused her. She may have been the one to end things, but that was for your own safety; how could you be so oblivious to that rationale? 

It didn’t matter now, though. As far as Sevika was concerned, you were hers, and you apparently needed a reminder that no one else could give you what she could; that no one else was allowed to touch you. Her expression softens as she leans over you, nudging your ear with her nose. 

“Tell me,” she starts, a gentleness in her tone that was agonizingly familiar, “do you want me to stop?” she asks, earning a quick shake of your head as you look back up over your shoulder to meet her gaze. She smirks. “Atta girl,” she murmurs, pecking your cheek.

 “And your pretty face? you okay?” she soothes, letting her lips linger on your cheek until you nod again. Then she’s moving back up and positioning herself behind you. She bites her lip, pleased at the way your thighs spread for her as she begins prodding at you with the tip of her strap. She grunts, her hand on your back moving to dig its nails into the soft flesh of your ass.

“Fuck…” she curses under her breath, squeezing your rear before shifting her grip, opening you more for her as she slowly leans her weight into you, her eyes glued to how your pussy swallows her cock, inch by inch. Sevika’s too mesmerized to register you groaning at first, but when she hears you, she stills, rubbing her thumb over the soft skin of your ass, like she’s contemplating something. Then, suddenly, Sevika leans over you, snapping her hips so that she’s hilted inside of you completely. 

You yelp; panting as your fingers grasp onto the throw pillow your head was propped on. 'Mine', Sevika thinks to herself, pleased with your lack of protest. Sevika was fully convinced that she was the only one allowed to have you, and thinking about the reality that you had actually planned to go on a date—planned on letting someone else even look at you; it was more than she could damn well take. She was angry, jealous, desperate to remind you that you were hers; she slammed her hips into you repeatedly, not giving you an opportunity to adjust to her properly; she couldn’t. She needed you now. 

You whimper, eyes hazy and half-lidded as you look back over your shoulder at her. Sevika smirked, digging her fingers into your hips. Her breathing was becoming more and more dysregulated as she picked your phone back up, thumbing through your messages. She looks at you smugly.

“Do you still want to go on that date?” she asked; a syrupy, taunting sweetness in her tone as she pushed her hips against you in a hard and possessive thrust. You whine, shaking your head, unable to form words. Sevika laughs, leaning down over you again, her body covering your own as her hand tugged at your hair. 

“No?” she growls against your ear, her lips trailing against the side of your jaw “Why the change of heart, hm?” she mocks. 

A breathy, “Just want you, Sev–” leaves your parted lips; your cheeks flush with embarrassment at how easy you were for her. Your gasped confession, combined with the fact that you used her nickname, made her heart rate elevate. She knew exactly how to break you; how to make you submit. 

“What was that?” she whispered against your neck, her breath hot against your skin as she continued to softly pound into you. You groan in embarrassed frustration, struggling to form words. In your blissed-out state, you fail to notice her tabbing over to the contact of the date you had set up, and pressing down on the call button. 

Sevika couldn’t help but smirk as she did so, hearing the line start to ring. It was such a petty thing to do, but she couldn’t deny the feeling of satisfaction she got at the idea of cutting your date short before it even started. She wanted to hear you try to tell your date that you were no longer available. 

The butch remained over you, still thrusting, and held the phone to your ear. Your eyes widen and you try to silence yourself, tucking your head into the throw pillow to muffle your moans. She grinned as she saw your head turn. 

“No,” she said firmly, yanking back on your hair to pull your face out of the pillow. “Don’t you dare hold your voice back, baby.” You freeze when you hear your date’s voice on the other line as they pick up.

“Hello?” they greet, and you bite down on your lip to quiet yourself. Sevika’s smug expression remained plastered on her face as she heard them pick up. She nipped at your opposite ear, whispering to you as your date repeated their greeting, trying to get a response from you. 

“Tell them you can’t go on your date tonight,” she instructs, no longer thrusting into you, only grinding continuously, the tip of her strap rubbing deep inside you, bumping your cervix lewdly. You hesitate, and Sevika tuts, moving the hand that was gripping your hair to wrap around your throat.

“Don’t make me repeat myself—” she hissed, pulling almost entirely out of your cunt before quickly shoving herself back into you, causing you to squeak. You try, you truly try, to keep your tone even as you speak.

“H-hey—” you start, clearing your throat, “I—” 

Sevika is laughing against your ear, her hips slowly picking up pace, wanting to hear you struggle to tell them you couldn’t go. Needing to hear it. She squeezed your throat a little, encouraging you to continue. You swallow thickly, eyes rolling softly before you try to speak again.

“I’m so – ah– M’so sorry—” you stammer out. “I need to raincheck our—our—” 

Sevika chuckles at you struggling, licking the shell of your ear. “What was that, doll? I don’t think your date heard you properly.” She teased, letting go of your throat and running her hand down to palm at your breast. Your cheeks are burning pink, and you struggle to stop yourself from moaning out her name. 

“I’m just— n-not able to go tonight—” you pant through suppressed whimpers. Sevika felt a wave of possessive satisfaction rush through her, her pupils dilating. She was greedy, though, and found herself needing to drive the point home harder. She nibbles at your ear again.

“Who are you canceling this date for?” she demands. You whimper, cheeks hot as you try to avoid her question; you knew what she was doing. She hums, nipping at your earlobe and neck, her lips sloppily sucking at you. “Who? Hm?” she repeats. You couldn’t contain yourself any longer. 

“Sevika—” you moan sweetly, head dropping on the pillow again and eyes fluttering closed as you succumbed to the pleasure she was giving you, knowing your, now canceled-on date had definitely heard your erotic declaration. 

Sevika kissed your ear as she heard the moan you finally let slip after trying desperately to keep your voice in check. She moved her hand to tease at your now swollen clit, causing you to yelp. She put the phone up to her ear, ego-tripping on the way your back was arching to meet her thrusts as she spoke.

“Sorry,” she practically purred into the mic of the cellphone, her tone sardonic. “She won’t be able to make it on that date tonight. Something…came up,” she said as she imagined the confusion on your date’s face at the sound of her voice, but it was all the more satisfying when you whimpered again. She continued to speak, her fingers rubbing tight, slow circles over your twitching bundle nerves. 

“Yeah,” Sevika breathes, her own eyes half-lidded now, squeezing harshly on your clit and moaning when you jerk back on her in response, “yeah, she’s quite busy.” 

You’re keening, looking over your shoulder again to pout up at her, your cheeks rosy—embarrassed by the pornographic squelching of your cunt wrapped around her cock.​​ She caught your gaze, her eyes softening at yours as she pressed firmly on your clit again, chiding as she shook her head, her mouth pulling away from the receiver of the phone to direct her words to you. 

“Aww, baby, what’s that pout for, hm?” she coos. “Blushing because they can hear you taking it like the good girl I know you are?” 

Your lip wobbles, overstimulated and flustered; a strained cry passes your lips –“Please—no more—” 

Sevika takes pity on you, and her touch becomes gentle as she puts the phone in front of your face, her thumb hovering over the button to switch to a video call. You shriek and duck your head back into the pillow.

“Ohmygod Sev!” you protest, causing her to laugh and press a kiss to your shoulder before ending the call, tossing the phone aside. 

“Just messin’ with you, princess,” she hums, rubbing her hand soothingly through your hair before gripping at the roots, tugging your face up. “Now,” she sighs, slipping out of you and using her grip on your hair to guide you onto your back. You whimper in protest, feeling painfully empty as you pout up at her.

“What did I say about pouting, hm?” she scolds, tracing your bottom lip with her thumb. You blush under her stare, suddenly self-conscious without the distraction of the phone call. Her lip twitches into a grin as she slips her copper claws under your dress, scratching lightly at the soft fat of your torso. Your eyebrows turn upward, and your eyes close, mouth agape as you try to find words again. Sevika kisses at your jaw.

“Flattered you wore this just for me,” she coos, “but I wanna see you, honey,” she says softly, rubbing her hands up and down your sides before tugging up the hem of your dress. “Arms up, babygirl,” she instructs, slipping it up and off, immediately groaning at the sight of you, bra-less, left only in your underwear before her. Her lips are instantaneously on your neck, hands cupping your chest eagerly. 

“Missed you, baby—” she mutters into your throat. You wanted to deny her, to punish her in some way for ever leaving you in the first place, but you were too far gone, you just wanted to be close to her. Sevika slips your panties off before hiking your legs up around her hips, pressing her forehead to yours as she thrust back into you, moaning softly. Your arms come to wrap around her neck, burying your face into the dip of her shoulder. Sevika hums lowly at you clinging to her.

“M’sorry, angel,” she mumbles into your hair, kissing at your head as she fucks into you. You knew what she meant. She had clearly missed you too. 

“You– better be—” you choke out, your lower lip still puffed out slightly. Sevika moves to hold your throat, rubbing her thumb over your pulse before reaching down to roll one of your peaked nipples between her fingers, her hips snapping to you rhythmically.

“Fuck, baby—” she moans, “taking me so good— so good, angel,” she praises, moving to press two of her organic fingers against your plush lips.

“Open,” she commands. You don’t argue— your mouth parts and she slips her fingers into your mouth. “Suck,” she orders, pinching your other nipple before trailing her hand down between your legs, tapping on your clit several times as she watches you jerk from the stimulation from her prosthetic, the cold metal sending streams of isolated pleasure through you. 

She chuckles, bringing her lips to kiss at your neck—her hips were grinding into you, her thumb was on your clit, her flesh fingers were pumping in and out of your mouth, and you were seeing stars. Sevika sucks on the sensitive skin at the base of your throat, biting harshly, earning a muffled yelp from your full mouth, before laving at the spot with her tongue; soothing you. 

You paw at her shoulders, feeling overstimulated and too close to orgasm to speak, your eyes rolling as you mewl on her fingers. Sevika’s biting turns to kissing on your neck. 

“Close, hm?” she mutters against you, panting as she withdraws her fingers from your mouth, moving her right hand to work at your clit, pinching it suddenly when she pulls her metal digits up to hold you by the back of your head, tilting you so that you’re looking at her.

“You’re mine, understand me, angel?” she says firmly, drinking in the sight of you; disheveled hair, pink cheeks, mouth agape, and dilated pupils. You nod weakly, your back arching sporadically as you feel your orgasm cresting. 

She kisses your lips briefly before letting her head fall to your neck “Come for me, princess,” she encourages. “Need to feel my girl’s pretty pussy come for me,” she coos. 

Her words send you over, a strangled cry leaving your throat as you cling to her, legs trembling as your cunt clenches around her cock, your climax crashing over you; clit throbbing from Sevika’s attention. 

Sevika moans, biting down on your neck to ground herself as she continues to softly rut into you, letting you ride out your release. Her eyes flick up to stare in awe at how your lip trembles as you try to regulate your breathing. Her hips eventually still, and she releases your neck from her teeth, beginning to pepper kisses over your face, bringing both her hands to cup your cheeks. 

“My girl,” she mutters into your skin. You melt into her touch, mind still reeling from the fact that she had canceled your date in such an inflammatory way. She seems to pick up on your thoughts, and she laughs, nuzzling into your neck and sighing. 

“I’m not dumb enough to let you go twice… if you’ll still have me…” she murmurs, sounding much more vulnerable and much less cocky now. You smile, smirking softly as you scratch softly at her scalp. 

“I’ll always have you, Sev,” you reassure her, kissing her forehead. “And for the record…” you start, slyly, as she looks up at you, eyebrows raised.“I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” you say matter-of-factly. She lets out a breathy laugh, shaking her head affectionately as she pulls you into another kiss.

[demusewriter]

Change Your Ticket

Summary: Jungwon has been missing you ever since the tour kicked off, the distance stretching across months like an endless road. Every late-night call, every fleeting messages, makes Jungwon longs for you more than words can say. So why not change your ticket home to surprise him? Pairing: Idol!Jungwon x Non-idol!reader Genre: Tooth rotting fluff! A Short drabble Warning: Still unedited because of jetlag (_　_)。゜zｚＺ Word Count: 2.5k Author's Note: I randomly wrote this while on a business trip, waiting to board my flight, when my favorite One Direction song started playing. (yass, I’m an og directioner!) That’s when the idea for this story hit me. (￣︶￣）↗　 After that, all I could think about was changing my ticket and flying to the next wtl tour stop. ＞︿＜ (I’m still having pcd from wtl bulacan (┬┬﹏┬┬) I miss them so much, please). So yeah, this is inspired by my favorite song that made me delulu during my teenage years—Change Your Ticket by One Direction. Enjoy! ♪(´▽｀)

Jungwon loved performing. There was no hesitation, no doubt, this was what he was born to do. Under the dazzling stage lights, with crowd's cheers echoing in his ears, he felt alive. Every move was second nature, every note resonated through his veins, and every glance into the sea of fans felt electric.

The stage was his home and the music is his heartbeat. From the moment he stepped into the spotlight, the rest of the world faded away. It was just him and the rhythm, the pulse of the bass guiding his body, the lyrics slipping from is lips like a secret shared between him and the thousands of strangers.

There was no fear, no weight on his shoulders. Even in the chaos of rehearsals, the endless flights, and the night with barely any sleep, he never questioned it.

This is life, the lights, the screams, the rush, it wasn't a burden.

It was a dream he chased with everything he had. The hours of training, the sacrifices, the pressure... it had all been worth it the moment he felt the heat of the stage lights and heard the first chords of the opening song.

And he wasn't alone. His members were right there with him, their presence steady anchor through the whirlwind. They understood the unspoken pressure came with the dream, the nerves before a performance, the exhaustion after long days, the quiet moments backstage where they'd catch their breath and share soft smiles.

They were his brothers, his family.

The playful teasing during practice, the shared excitement when they nailed a difficult routine, the late-night talks after shows... those moments kept him grounded.

On stage, they moved as one, each member feeding off the other's energy, every glance, and subtle nod speaking volumes. Off stage, they were his comfort.

Every member brought a piece of home to to his life. No matter where they went, no matter how far the tour took them, they always had each other.

But even with that comfort, there was still a part of him that longed for something more.

Because as mush as he loved the stage, the adrenaline, and the bond with his members, the silence that followed was deafening.

When the light dimmed and the music stopped, when he stepped offstage and into the solitude of his hotel room, the emptiness settled in

And lately, that emptiness felt heavier.

Because he missed you.

The hotel room was quiet, almost too quiet. The only sound came from the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional distant honk from the streets below. Jungwon lay on the massive king-sized, the blanket pooling around his waist, his phone resting on the pillow beside him.

The screen glowed faintly, casting a soft light across his face as your voice filled the space.

"...and then I spilled coffee all over my papers. It was a total disaster," you said with a laugh, your face lighting up the screen. "I hade to redo everything."

Jungwon smiled softly, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He listened, hanging onto every word, but his mind kept drifting, not because he wasn't interested, but because he missed you so much it hurt. He missed hearing your stories in person, missed the way you'd curl up beside him, your head resting on his shoulder while you talked about your day.

"You're pouting again" you teased, tilting your head slightly.

Jungwon blinked, lips pressing into a thin line before sighing. "Am not" he mumbled, turning onto his side to face the screen properly. His voice was quiet, almost sulky, making the corners of your lips tugged up into a soft smile.

"You totally are." You giggled, and his heart clenched at the sound.

God, he missed that.

Jungwon buried his face into the pillow for a moment before peeking at you again, his beautiful bobba eyes soft with longing. "I just... miss you, baby" he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Your face softened, eyes flickering with understanding. "I miss you too, wonnie."

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "It's just...after the shows, when I come back to the hotel, it feels so empty. The hyungs are around, but it's not the same. I keep wishing you were here. I got used to you being by my side, y'know?" He bit his lip, hesitating.

"I didn't realize how much I needed your constant presence until now."

You heart ached at his words. You could see it in his eyes, the quiet loneliness, the weight of the distance between you.

He tried to respect the fact that you had work, that you also have life and couldn't always be with him on tour, and you never heard him asked you to drop everything just to be by his side.

He love you so much to ask something selfishly.

But you knew, you knew him too well.

With every call, every soft "I miss you," he was one step away from asking you to pack you bags and join him.

And you missed him too.

Who wouldn't miss this adorable, sweet as strawberry with chocolate that you are lucky to claim as you boyfriend?

You giggled softly, turning onto your side in bed, you phone still in hand as you gazed at him. He looked so pouty and cute, lying there with the blankets pulled up to his chest, blond hair falling into his eyes.

If only he knew.

Because you weren't halfway across the world.

You were in the same country. The same city. The same hotel. Just a few floors away from him.

After you business trip overseas, instead of flying home, you changed you ticket and booked a flight to his next tour stop. With the help of his members, who'd struggled to keep the secret under wraps, given how easily your leader boyfriend could sniff out their lies, you'd managed to sneak in unnoticed.

You kept the conversation light, telling him about your day while Jungwon listened quietly. His eyes stayed on you, soft and heavy with longing. Every now and then, his gaze flickered across the screen, taking in the little details, the way your hair fell over your face, the curve of your lips when you smiled.

But then his eyes shifted past you for a moment, narrowing slightly.

"Wait..." He squinted at the screen. "What's that behind you?"

"Hm?" You tiled your head, trying to keep your voice causal. "What do you mean?"

Jungwon sat up slightly, his brows furrowing. "The wall." He pointed at the screen. "It looks...familiar."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Does it?" you asked innocently, shifting a bit to the side to block more of the background.

But it was too late. Jungwon's eyes darted back to the screen, scanning every corner. The beige walls, the faint texture of the wallpaper, even the soft glow of the bedside lamp, they all matched his room perfectly.

His breath caught.

"Wait...No way." His eyes widened. "Baby... where are you right now?"

You bit your lip, trying to fight the grin threatening to spread across your face. "What do you mean? I'm at my hotel."

Jungwon's brows furrowed deeper. "Which hotel?" His voice barely above a whisper now, his mind racing. He shifted off the bed, glancing around his own room as if expecting you to jump out of the closet.

You giggled, shaking your head as you tried to keep your voice steady. "Baby, you're overthinking too much"

"I'm not" he shot back, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Tell me where you are."

"I told you," you teased. "I'm at my hotel."

"Which. Hotel."

You bit your lip, holding back another laugh. He looked like he was on the verge of losing his mind. His patience was running thin, and you could practically see the gears in his head turning.

Sighing dramatically, you pouted. "Can't you just wait until tomorrow?"

Jungwon frowned. "What? Why tomorrow?"

You shrugged, trying to act casual. "Just... because."

His eyes narrowed further. "Y/n..." He dragged out your name, suspicion lacing every syllable. His gaze flicked past you again, studying the background. And when he saw the same chocolates that the hotel given to them for free on your bedside table. His lips parted slight, and his eyes widened.

"Wait a minute." He sat up straighter. "Are we on the same hotel?"

You heart skipped a beat. "What? No!" you quickly blurted out, but giggles escaping you weren't helping your case.

"You are." He gasped, running a hand through his hair. "You're here. You're literally here."

"Jungwon—"

A sudden shake of the screen made you burst into laughter as Jungwon scrambled out of the bed, the phone slipping from his grasp before he caught it again. You could hear the shuffle of his footsteps, the rustling of blankets being thrown aside, and the soft thud of a door being swung open.

"Oh my god," you laughed, watching his blurry movements. "Won, wait—"

"Nope." His voice was firm, rushed. "Which room you are"

"Come on, wonnie can you just wai—"

"Baby" His voice softened, almost breaking. "I'm this close to going crazy if I don't see you right now. So please, sweetheart, which room are you in? I badly need to see your gorgeous face that I've been missing so much."

You heart pounded breath hitching at the raw emotion on his voice. The way he begged made your chest tighten, and you knew there was no point in hiding anymore.

The plan the members wanted you to do to surprise their leader were thrown out the window when you saw the desperation in your boyfriends face.

With a tenderness in your eyes and softness in your lips, you gave in.

"Room 1009"

Within a minutes, a loud knock echoed through your room. Without hesitation, you flung the door open.

And there he is, you adorable boyfriend that you misses so much, standing there, chest heaving, and eyed wide as they met yours.

For a split second neither of you moved. Then, in a blur, he surged forward, arms wrapping tightly around you. His warmth engulfed you as he buried his face in your neck, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

“You’re really here,” he whispered, voice cracking slightly.

You clung to him, fingers gripping his shirt as you buried yourself in his embrace. “I’m here,” you breathed.

His arms tightened around you, as if making sure you were real. “God, I missed you.”

He continue clung to you like you were his lifeline, his arms trembling slightly as they tightened around you. You felt his heartbeat pounding against your chest, fast and uneven, and when you pulled back just enough to look at him, the sight made you heart ache.

His eyes were glassy, dark pools shimmering with unshed tears. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. He just stared at you, his gaze flickering across your face like he was trying to memorize every detail, the curve of your lips, the softness of your eyes, the warmth of your touch.

"You're really here..." he whispered again, his voice cracking. "Please, don't make this a dream" he begged as he shook his head.

You reached up, cupping his check gently. He leaned immediately into your touch, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "I'm here, baby. It's real. I'm not going anywhere."

A shaky breath escaped him as he opened his eyes again. One tear slipped free, trailing down his cheek. You wiped it away softly, your thumb lingering on his skin.

"I missed you so much, baby" he confessed, his voice barely holding together. "Every ight, I'd come back to the hotel, and it felt...empty. I'd lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing you were there beside me. Even when we'd call, it wasn't the same. I just wanted to hold you."

Your heart clenched. "I missed you too. Every day."

He swallowed thickly, pulling you closer until there wasn't a silver of space between you. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm and shaku. "You don't know how much this means to me."

You smiled softly, brushing your fingers through his hair. "I think I do."

Jungwon let out a soft, shaky laugh, through it sounded more like a sob. He squeezed his eyes shut, resting his head on your shoulder as his arms wrapped around you again. You felt his tears soak into your shirt, but you didn't mind. You held him tighter, running your fingers up and down his back in slow, soothing strokes.

Jungwon sighed softly, his breath warm against your skin as he nestled deeper into your embrace. The weight of the past month apart melted away, replaced by the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his cheek,

His arms held you close, fingers lazily tracing patterns along your back as the two of you settled onto the bed.

Jungwon buried his face in your hair, breathing you in, his hold tightening as if afraid you might slip away again. You felt his lips press a soft, lingering kiss against the top of your head, his warmth wrapping around you like a protective shield.

Slowly, the hotel room that once so cold and empty, now felt like home.

You shifted slightly, tucking yourself against his chest, and he immediately tightened his hold on you. The warmth of your body, the softness of your touch — it was everything he’d longed for.

It was everything he'd been craving for months.

No cameras, no crowds, no stage lights. Just you.

Jungwon pressed another kiss to your forehead, his eyes fluttering shut. His heart ached at the thought of you leaving again, of coming back to empty hotel rooms and cold beds. No. Not this time.

This time, he was going to be selfish.

As you slept soundly in his arms, Jungwon quietly reached for his phone. With careful fingers, he opened your flight details, scrolling down to the option he’d already decided on the moment he saw you standing in front of him.

Change return flight.

With a soft smile, he tucked the phone away and pulled you even closer, his heart finally at peace. No more waiting. No more distance. From now on, you’d face the world together.

As sleep threatened to pull him under, one final thought lingered in his mind, bringing a small, satisfied smile to his lips.

This time, we’re going home together.

©2025 Demuse Writer. All Right Reserved.

[starlightsreigns]

slow down | the judgment day

summary ⇢ maia looks innocent, that's her trademark, but a certain group of misfits knows an act when they see one. it's time to test their theory, and they've met their match - she's their hardest opponent yet and she's here to win. warnings ⇢ 18+ nsfw! unprotected sex, public (sorta) sex, cursing, drinking. smut x1000, minors please don't interact!! word count ⇢ 3.4k

author's note ⇢ pls this is truly material to call me a sl*t, but here we are with NO shame. one of the only work that I have that's more than two people, so... yeah. part two, maybe???

darling, slow down

Maia’s hips sway to the beat of the loud music blaring in the club. Her hands are in the air, completely in a different headspace, thanks to the immeasurable amount of liquor she’s consumed in the past hour and a half. Her friends surround her, almost as a shield, in their own worlds. Her eyes slowly close, feeling free, not even realizing the eyes that we’re watching her, interested, thirsty, and ready to pounce.

Damian sits at the back of the room, perfectly centered to where Maia is dancing. He crosses his arms, so transfixed on her that he doesn’t even hear what his stablemates are talking about. 

“Uh-oh, look who found Maia.” Dominic slaps his hand on Damian’s shoulder, peering over to watch Maia. “Damn, man, I get it, she’s..” He trails off, almost lost in her movements. 

As the song changes, Maia opens her eyes, perfectly falling on Damian through the crowd. She smiles realizing his gaze on her. For a second, she contemplates her next move, but the fire from his gaze lights something deep inside her and she goes with the action she’d never do on a sober mind because she was way too chicken to ever do it. Her long legs are bare, her skirt is short and her stride is long and sultry as she approaches where The Judgement Day members all sit. She glances at them all, taking a moment to lick her lip. 

“Anyone wanna dance?” She leans over to ask, her breast slightly on display and the guys can’t help but take a look. 

Rhea sits back, taking in the slightly younger woman and how everything she wears hugs her body in the right way. Her eyes settle a moment on the black bralette she’s wearing and the way it doesn’t hide her hard nipples, even in the dark. Dominik focuses on her perfectly red lips and the way the lipstick hasn’t moved all night and the way he wants to smudge it. He shifts in his seat, trying to push the thought away before it manifests in a way he couldn’t hide it. Finn, on the other opposite side of Damian whose sitting in the middle, has his eyes on the length of her skirt and the way that he could drag her into the bathroom and fuck her over the sink without messing up her outfit. Then there was Damian, who is stuck on the thought that Maia wasn’t as innocent as she portrays on screen or backstage — he could see it in the way her eyes light up.

As the next song picks up, Damian stands, “I’ll take a dance with you.” He glances back at his stablemates, sending them a knowing nod. “She’ll be right back.”  

Their plan was in action, and little did they know, Maia was on a mission of her own tonight. 

Slow down. 

Maia clasps Damian’s hand as she leads him to the dance floor. A nice funky, R&B beat fills the tight space. With her back pressing onto him they move slowly and sensually. She is pleasantly surprised at the way Damian falls into step with her. The lyrics felt directed to them and she can’t help but turn to look at the older man. 

Baby, I’ve been fantasizing, just looking in your eye.

Their eyes lock on each other. Someone stumbles past and pushes them further together. Maia rest her hand on Damian’s hard chest, her motions still on the beat. Damian snakes his hand around her back, following. 

You know I’m looking for more, and you’re what I’ve been praying for.

Maia turns again, pressing her ass against Damian’s crotch, whining down, bending at the waist to slowly grind against him. His hands move towards her hips, dangerously close to her ass, and squeezing. 

I’m not one to play around like this, it’s so real, and I love how it feels, love it when we slowly sway.

She comes back up to rest against his chest, laying her head back to look up at him. They sway with the music, Damian's arms now around her stomach, staring back at her. 

I love the way we move, the way we move. 

Maia smiles to herself, feeling his light touch – Damian’s hands start at her shoulders, lightly tumbling down her exposed sides. His warm hand on her lower back makes her hum as she glances back at him. His head ducks down to press a warm kiss on her neck. She sets a hand against his thigh, wanting him to get closer to her. His scent was intoxicating and that’s all she wanted. 

We can have every night, yeah, we can have every day. Ooh, I want you too. I need you.

They stay like that for a while. Maia lets her eyes shut, letting the music take control. She doesn’t even realize the effect that she’s having on the Puerto Rican man behind her or his friends seated not too far away from them, completely checked in to what’s going on. 

And when the song transitions to another, Damian goes to move back, but she holds him in place, turning to look up at him. Nothing is said as he lets his hand slightly fall a little lower, resting on her ass. They don’t move, feeling everyone else around them. Her hand rests on his tattooed arm, slightly grazing her fingernails down making him unknowingly shudder. 

Dominik comes up from behind Damian, resting his hand on her hip. Her bright eyes met his with a smile. He pulls her into him and her thoughts shift. His hand lays flat on her stomach with her back to him, once again dancing. 

“You’re too sexy.” He mutters in her ear and she presses her thighs together in search of some relief from the pressure. “Don’t push it away.” Dominik kisses her neck. 

She throws her head back gently into his neck with her eyes closed. Dominik bites his lip, focused on that red lipstick again, desperately wanting to kiss and taste her. Maia puckers her lips, leaning up slowly as he leans down to meet her lips. The kiss is slow and deliberate. Dominik spins her around so they’re chest to chest, reconnecting their lips. She caresses his arm, lost in a trance for a while. 

“Come home with us.” Dominic breathlessly whispers in her ear, letting his hand travel down to the hem of her short skirt. 

Maia turned slowly taking him in, “And what will I win if I do.” Her lips moved perfectly and that’s all Dominik could focus on. “Lost for words?” She teases. 

“We’ll make it worth your time, mami, I promise.” 

He glances back, locking eyes with who could only be described as The Demon. Finn takes his time coming to meet the pair. Dominik gives his place. Maia’s eyes are low in the smoky room and it could drive the Irishmen crazy — and when she licks her lip, he has no choice but to give in to his desires, knowing that he couldn’t wait any longer. 

“C’mere.” His voice was thick with lust. 

Finn leads Maia past the bar, towards a bathroom, pushing the door open with his back. His friends shared a look, knowing things were going perfectly. The bathroom, matching the atmosphere of the club, was dim. He locks the door behind him and stalks towards her, where she leans against the sink, one heel slowly kicked up. Maia smirks when he finally stands in front of her. The music still pulsates through the room and her eyes dips from his to the front of his pants, pleasantly surprised to see how rock solid he was. 

It all felt like slow motion — Finn grabbed her by the hips, spinning her around to face the mirror. They stare at each other through it and Maia can’t help but press her ass against him, moving slowly, teasingly. 

“C’mon, don’t try to be a gentleman, take what you’ve come to get.” Her voice was laced with sex. She slowly hikes up her skirt, arching her back as she leans over — nothing hiding her pussy from his vision. 

At the sight, Finn groans, unzipping his pants. Maia’s breath gets stuck in her throat, feeling the tip of his dick pressing against her entrance. Her lips find themselves between her teeth again, feeling Finn pushes into her slowly. Her mouth hangs open slightly, a moan escaping. When he’s flesh against her, Finn moves his hand to sit around her stomach, pulling her up against his chest and thrusting deep. 

“Fuck.” The profanity leaves her mouth. 

As the music picks up, so does Finn’s movement. It’s not soft and she loved every second of it, he pounds into her as if he knew that’s exactly what she liked. And Maia feels like she’s on cloud fucking nine. The moans never stop from her and Finn can’t control himself at the faces she makes. He hits her g-spot, over and over, pushing deeper into her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck..” Maia is breathless, holding onto Finn’s arm, squeezing tightly.

He didn't let up and Maia was in absolute bliss. Finn’s hand moves from her stomach, down to her clit, rubbing along to his pace, making Maia reach her peak quicker. A single tear falls from her eyes and Finn kisses it, feeling her cling around him. 

A moan falls from his lips, “Go on, baby, come for me.” He bites her lips softly as she completely falls apart against him, feeling the orgasm shake her to the core. “Good girl.” He grunts, and his pace becomes sloppy. 

Maia has to muster all the power in her body to pull him out of her, crouching down in her heels to take him in her mouth. She strokes his dick, letting the tip hit the back of her throat until Finn’s eyes squeeze shut, coming down her throat. His groans are like music to her ears and when she swallows, she looks up at him through her eyelashes, plastering an innocent look on her face. 

She stands up, pulling her skirt down. Maia presses a kiss on his neck, smiling at the light red stain that she leaves. Her finger lightly traces it. 

“Wanna take me home?” Her manicured finger rests on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.” She winks, stepping out of the bathroom, and leaving him to get situated.

After more dancing, Maia stepped out of the club in desperate need of fresh air. She leans against the windows of the building, staring out at the parking lot. Even after her bathroom quickie earlier, she wasn’t satisfied and the cold air hitting her skin only heightened that need. As if on cue, Dominik pushed the door open, his eyes immediately landing on hers. 

“What you doin’ out here, mama?” Dominik comes up to her, pulling her towards him.

“Just gettin’ some air, what’s up with you, Dom?” Maia hooks her finger around one of his belt loops. “Come to keep me company?” 

They shared a quick look that solidified the fact that they weren’t outside for air. 

The car is parked in the back corner of the parking lot. Maia rested her back on the cool leather, humming as Dominik peppered kisses on her warm skin. She smells like a mixture of vanilla and cinnamon. He lays his hand gently on her thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. They maintain eye contact as his finger finds her heat, slowly running a finger through her slick folds. Maia bites her bottom lip with an exhale, resting her head back. 

“So fucking pretty.” He murmurs, sliding a finger into her wet cunt. Maia’s mouth slightly falls open, arching her back looking for more. “Mm, so wet.” 

“Fuck me, please,” She whined.

Dominik chuckled, drinking her in as he unbuckled his belt. Maia had her skirt bunched up around her stomach and her top down slightly to expose her hard nipples. Maia sits up slowly as he pulls his dick out of his pants, stroking a couple of times, his eyes on her. 

“Come ride me, baby.” 

Maia peels off the leather, straddling over him, pressing a kiss onto his lips as he pushes into her. Dominik squeezes one of her breasts, flicking his tongue over her nipple. The sound of their slapping skin is the only sound in the car. 

“fuck,” Maia moans, resting her forehead against his. “oh yeah, just like that.” She holds his face in her palms, printing her red lipstick all over his mouth.

Their pace quickens and their moans start to mix together. The windows start to fog as Maia throws her head back, holding onto Dominik’s shoulder trying to chase the high. His hands connect with her ass several times, the slaps ringing out in the car. Maia groans, 

“You look so fuckin’ good, baby,” Dominik murmurs in her ear. “Come here.”

The new position had Dominik hovering over her with Maia’s legs basically touching the roof of the car. A yelp escaped from her mouth when he slid back in her, making her eyes roll to the back of her head. The pleasure rushed over her again. Her breath caught in her throat, pressing her hand against his chest. 

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Maia moaned, filled with lust. “Holy shit.” she gasped feeling the butterflies in her stomach. 

Dominik’s moans and grunts filled her ears as he drilled into her at a relentless pace. Maia could barely open her eyes to see the fogged-up windows or his sweaty chest, all she could see was stars and her release on the brink. She was so close. 

“Go ‘head, Maia.” Dominik’s voice lulled her on. “Cum for me.” 

And with that, Maia feels all her walls tighten. She lets out a ragged breath as he fucks her through her climax and proceeds to chase his. Maia locked eyes with him while licking her still-red lips. That tears Dominik apart as he pulls out, cumming over her stomach with a grunt. 

Maia smiles drunkenly, closing her eyes for a moment in bliss. 

— 

 The air in the car was thick. The anticipation of what was coming was enough to power the city. Damian sits behind the steering wheel, Finn in the passenger seat with Maia in the backseat between Dominik and Rhea. Her eyes slowly look up to the rearview mirror, catching Damian's gaze as she licks her lip. His hands tighten around the steering wheel, impatiently. 

—

The house is impressive, but Maia’s thoughts were on everything but that. She holds a new cocktail in a square glass in her hands. She stares out at a pool in the backyard, nearly done with her drink when someone comes up behind her. The lights in the room are low, and music from the club is playing. The person behind her moves her hair, resting a kiss on her neck. She slowly closes her eyes, leaning back against them. 

“I never got that dance.” Rhea’s Australian accent fills her ears. 

Maia turns, setting her glass down. “I can give you a dance.” She murmurs, looking around the room to see them alone. “Or something better.” 

Rhea leans down, taking Maia’s lip into hers, kissing her roughly, trying to memorize her sweet taste. She leans down, hooking her arms under Maia’s ass and wrapping her legs around her waist. The kiss is breathless and they both refuse to be the first to pull away. 

“I have plans for you, baby.” Rhea bites Maia’s bottom lip. “But you have to wait.” She presses her lips to Maia’s one more time before setting her down. 

Dominik appears beside Rhea, taking the chance to capture Maia’s lips in a deep kiss, smacking her ass. She rests her hand around the back of his neck, letting her nails graze over the soft skin then moves them down to the hem of his shirt, wanting to feel his warm skin. Dominik, not breaking the kiss, moves them back to the center of the room. Another body presses up behind her, peppering kisses on her neck. 

“Let’s take you upstairs.” Finn says, lightly nibbling her ear. 

Finn leads them up the stairs, with Dominik closely behind Maia. She holds onto his hand, keeping them both steady as they enter the dimly lit room. Maia takes a moment to scan the room — it’s huge, and her eyes land on two armchairs near the window where Rhea and Damian were sitting, having stopped their conversation at the sight of her. 

Maia walks around to sit on the edge of the bed, facing the pair. She grabs the straps of her top, sliding them down her shoulder slowly, giving them all a view of her breast. She bites her lip, resting on the palm of her hands when Rhea gets up, stalking her like prey. 

“Touch me, gorgeous.” Maia groans softly. 

The Australian woman caresses Maia’s thighs, deeply gazing into the eyes of the woman under her, then gets on her knees to come face to face with her dripping wet cunt. Rhea places a soft kiss on her inner thigh, so close to Maia’s heat causing her to softly fall back against the mattress. Finn and Dominik watched for a moment but received a look from Damian and took their leave.  When Rhea’s tongue met Maia’s clit, a deep sigh left her lip, slowly arching her back. She can’t help but tangle her fingers in Rhea’s hair. 

“So good.” She moans, her breath hitching in her throat. 

Rhea rests her arm over Maia’s lower stomach, keeping her in place as she devours her as if it were her last supper. Her tongue swirls over Maia’s bundle of nerve, her tongue laying flat, sucking roughly on her clit. Maia couldn’t help but grip the sheets, trying to keep her body flat on the bed, but her body had a mind of its own. The euphoric feeling washed over her, leaving her breathless. Her breathing was labored and her hands searched for something, anything. The release was so close that she couldn’t help but shut her eyes as it washed over her with so much force. 

“Good girl,” Rhea purrs, licking her lip as Maia tries to find her breath. 

Her fingers dug into Maia’s hips to keep her still as she ate her like a starved woman’s first meal in years. Maia tried to push her legs together but was unsuccessful as Rhea dipped a tongue into her, disarming her immediately. She grinded down into Rhea’s face, moaning loudly. Maia glanced to the side to see Damian watching them intently and that only turned her own even more as she threw her head back. 

As Maia tiptoed the edge, the rougher Rhea got until she couldn’t take it any longer. For what felt like the hundredth time tonight, she came so hard until all she saw was blackness. Her breath was ragged as Rhea kissed up her body until her lips were on Maia’s in the softest kiss ever. All Maia could do was murmur a word, but she wasn’t even sure of what she said. 

It took a while for her to come to, but when she did, Maia realized that it was just her and Damian in the room. He stood from his chair and came to the front of the bed as Maia got up onto her knees. She watched him carefully as she fixed her clothes. Maia licked her lips as he crouched down to her eye level. 

“Is the nice girl back?” he teased with a smirk. 

Maia shrugged her shoulder, “who says that wasn’t the nice girl?” she whispered, looking at him from underneath her eyelashes. “I been watching you priest, you can’t fool me.” 

Damian chuckled, “and what do you mean by that, Maia?” 

“I want you and you want me all to yourself, am I right?” Maia questioned, moving closer to him. “Because I see how you look at me, I see how you all look at me, but you in particular…” 

Maia gave a dramatic sigh, “I can feel your eyes on my body, so I walk slower. Baby, I always know when you’re around, just tell me I’m wrong.” 

The room felt 1000 degrees hotter as they stared at each other. Damian took in the way Maia rubbed his arm then laid back onto her elbows on the bed, watching him with an innocent smile as if she didn’t just turn him on. 

“I want you, Maia.”

:) thank you for reading. let me know if I should do a pt. 2, but I fear I write too much damian x

[ladythornofrivia]

🍒 The Devil’s Tongue 🍒

Michael Gavey x Reader (PART ONE)

summary: you transferred into Oxford after moving out from your country for a better change, and unexpectedly meeting Michael Gavey in a quiet library, leads to something more.

warnings: creepy vibes from michael gavey, reader being oblivious, stalking, michael being horny, p in v sex, loss of virginity, jealousy, misunderstandings, obsession, belt kink, panty kink, scent kink, voice kink, breeding kink, michael gavey being a smartass, michael gavey is horny for math, michael gavey is a smartass, clueless reader, nerdy yet hot michael, lust at first sight, sex in the library, sex on the table, kitchen sex, oral sex, cam girl, fingering, sex during tutoring session, reader teasing, reader being a dominatrix in bed, food porn.

a/n: i forgot to review the movie saltburn last year, so I’ll give it a short review. Saltburn is a weird movie, but i watched it because of Ewan Mitchell. While ewan mitchell is 10/10, saltburn is 7/10, because of the bathtub scene and the grave scene. the only thing that’s good is the cinematography, music and ewan mitchell. i wish there’s more scenes from him. yes, i keep saying his name! he’s so fucking hot as a nerd. this one shot will be long.

You like cherries.

There’s something mysterious and tempting about the roundish and reddish fruits. Cherries are sweet, and it’s dark-reddish color brought an appeal to your appetite and. Appeal that also changes your view in fashion.

And as hot as the Devil’s tongue.

Red symbolized lust.

Sinful, they proclaimed.

So does your pussy, when you splayed across the bed, watched as Michael entered and his face bewildered when you splayed naked in bed with thick whip cream smothered on your tits, waist, and your pussy decorated in whip cream swirled with cherry on top.

"Hi, baby. I've been waiting for you," you said as your legs spread, thick of whip cream and candied cherry cascaded slowly.

***

A Year Ago…

Your parents and your attention seeking relatives are no good. Red is as sin as lust—the devil’s skin, the devil’s horn.

Other than black and pink, you like the dark-cherry color. All your aesthetics are cherry red—well, the undertones to match your little room at your small house belongs to your parents.

Them and their sinless views of the world has sickened to your stomach. You don’t want to be like your hypocritical, martyr parents for the rest of your life, so you applied for the university at Oxford and Northamptonshire. You got accepted to the university. Despite being a young woman, you managed to prove them wrong.

And sever ties with them to go at the University of Oxford, where you encounter numerous people. You’ve done research to get things right—not to be frigid or superficially pretentious; you didn’t want to embarrass yourself on the spot if you chose to be ignorant.

One thing that no one else knows of you, is that you moonlight as a dominatrix on a live stream. Every night, you broadcast online to pleasure yourself—that’s how you got money to bail from a strict and hypocritical religious household.

Few of the students looked at your direction, giving a side-eye. You overheard them calling you a prostitute, but you couldn’t care less. Dress to impress for yourself. You mostly wore bike leather jacket, a tank top, mini skirt and a chunky dark-cherry red boots with light make up, but the lipstick is glossy dark red—and not the irritable, sticky kind.

Your long locks tossed at the side, already at your assigned room, but you shut the windows completely. You don’t want to reveal the private side of your internet sensation. After closing the curtains, you’re off to the hall, where people gathered and talk, mainly about drama and parties.

You hadn’t known one. But you had party to yourself of gaining source of income from self-pleasure.

There you sat down, and overheard someone at your left. Afar, you saw a young man named Oliver Quick and another guy with nerdy glasses.

Michael Gavey.

“Fuckin’ ask me a sum then!” The chatter dimmed when a young man shouted about math.

No one really likes as the guy with the nerdy glasses does. But he does look cute when he’s fuming.

Maybe he’s sexually frustrated. All it needs is I need to work on a poor guy. Poor guy is so frustrated—a no man island himself, like Oliver Quick.

You could tell. So you chimed in.

“What’s the square root of 69”

Both boys turned to look at you.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Oliver inquired, perplexed.

“Oh, just a curious person asking him a question,” you said, jerking your head towards the blond and cutely frustrated boy.

“8.30662386292,” is all the blond uttered.

Your lips tugged into a smirk, and left.

Interesting, now I have a new kink to look forward to for my next kinky session.

***

It’s quite luxurious for a library—grand yet old like wines in the cellar. You studied Political Science and Art, and while you studied and sometimes drawing, but a certain snack bar caught your eye; it was placed above your drawing.

“I got you a crunchie,” a voice said. You turned and saw Michael Gavey.

“Oh, um, thanks?”

“I have never seen you before,” he noted.

“Really? So do I.”

“As a matter of fact, you have disrupted us during our friendly conversation.”

Oliver Quick was anything but friendly and comfortable.

“Okay and?”

He quirked a brow. “Your attitude is unusual.”

“Well, where I came from, it’s not really an issue. I’m a straight forward kind of gal,” you explained.

Michael hummed, staring at you.

“Pardon my rudeness. I’m Michael Gavey.” His hand stretched out. “I never get your name.

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N).” You offered a handshake in return.

“Where are you from?”

“I’m from America.”

“Ah, yes. The land of freedom,” he commented, trying to make you laugh.

You laughed awkwardly. You have never smiled or laughed before—in a non-superficial way. You laughed and smiled during as a cam girl, but other than that, you never smile genuinely.

Somehow it caught his eye. His glasses beamed that you could see the color of his hues.

“An awkward foreign girl.”

“Yeah, so? I’m not really a people-person.”

“Why did you come here, then? For a good fuck?”

Ghastly, you turned around to see if anyone catches his words, but nobody pays attention.

“Are you going to the party?”

“What party?”

“The party Felix and his friends are heading tonight.”

“Who the hell is Felix?”

Michael darted his eyes behind you, and followed the sign; Felix and Farleigh sat at the back between the shelves.

“Apparently, he’s hosting a party tonight. NFI, me and you. Not Fucking Invited.”

“Well, I don’t give a fuck about parties that much.”

Michael tsked. “That’s a very strong language.”

“Says the guy who says NFI. Besides, I don’t like parties,” you said, and it wasn’t a half lie. You have an upcoming camgirl session tonight.

“A shame,” Michael said, then reaching for the crunchie.

You have never tried snacks from another culture.

“Is it good?” you asked him.

He ripped the snack bar open, and gave you a piece. “Try it and see for yourself.”

And you did.

It was worth it.

Nevermind how Michael watched you in fascination.

***

The roofs and walls of University has been but a sham; it was real quiet.

Too quiet.

You hated quiet rooms.

In your next session, your fingers swirled your swollen clit, thinking of Michael Gavey’s rosy lips and tongue licking and nibbling your wet cunt and a tight hole.

You never fucked anybody, but you wanted your first time to be special. You rode on a dildo, trying not to moan so loud, but you come down high. The faster you moved, the more erotic images of a nerdy Michael seeping into you.

This is my kind of party.

***

Somewhere, in a darkened room, Michael Gavey’s hand filled with cum, and his other hand pressed the send button on his computer screen.

It was sensational to see.

You.

Who would’ve thought he met you—a famous camgirl.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how your eyes twinkled when you ate crunchie for the first time—far from the horniness and snobbish act you put up in public. It was a delight to see . With your outstanding getup and attitude, he knew that he’s in a right place.

Taglist: @toodlesxcuddles @kittendoll05 @omgsuperstarg @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @danika1994 @angeljcca @marvelescvpe @kukulyarva @namelesslosers @heavenly1927 @snh96 @fandom-maniac-anime @httpsmenace @velunis @nananeptune @domithebomi @moonseye @faesspace @tm-starr @xinthia19 @popsycles @halsteadstyles @lothiriel9 @liannafae @ammo23 @blackswxnn @buccini555 @watercolorskyy @taangie @qardasngan @justyelena @jolixtreesunn @runekisses @thought--bubble @remuslupinwife1 @evergreen9083 @foggypeacestarlight @dixie-elocin @galactict3a @momowhoo @saturnssrings @dani5216 @kimsubin05 @blackgaladriel @valeskafics @theboleyngirlx @elaratyrell @mylosz0

[ateezlibrary]

im going thru a major seonghwa brainrot and i just want a fic of him teasing her gf throughout a party and he takes her home mid function and edges her manhandles her leading to overstimulation ( he has a sir kink )

This is like my 2nd or 3rd time ever requesting an author so plz dont judge me i dont know how this works😭

coming undone. (seonghwa x reader)

summary: a silly little bet goes a little too far, causing a certain someone to go back on his bargain.

genre: pure smut (nsfw, mdni) (tw: sexual content, overstimulation)

word count: 2,714

the way that i just laughed at this request for the chaotic panicking lol as long as you don’t judge me for being a little rusty in my smut writing!

“Another round, my love?” you call over your shoulder as you stroll into the kitchen, peering into the fridge for the tonic water. Like clockwork, you reach for the handle of gin on the counter and mix yourself another drink. Yeosang rounds the corner to meet you, outstretching his hand with his solo cup prepared.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you laugh, measuring his mixture haphazardly before clinking your own cup against his. The familiar taste of ripe juniper berries meets your tongue, the alcohol warming your throat with its familiar burning sensation. From the living room, Hongjoong is fiddling with the playlist, save for when he circles the room to rearrange a pillow or put aside someone’s shoes.

“Is there a reason you’ve been staring at Hongjoong that I’m unaware of?” Yeosang teases, leaning against the wall beside the kitchen as he glances at you in amusement.

“I am not!” you retort, knocking back the rest of your drink before setting the cup down to mix another—only this time, it wasn’t for you. “He just looks like he needs a drink, is all.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Yeosang chuckles, rolling his eyes. He glances at the crowd exchanging lighters on the balcony with a nod in your direction. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

The playlist changes to its next track and the mood of the room shifts near instantly, settling into the smooth R&B beat that thrums against the walls. You sway as you walk, mouthing the lyrics as you snake through the crowd to the far end of the room where Hongjoong was perched beside the speakers.

“One gin and tonic,” you lilt, offering him the drink in your hands. He takes it with a soft chuckle under his breath, tilting his head back as the alcohol slid down his throat. You observe his neck hungrily, lips parted as you lean against the wall beside him.

“Think I’m doing the party justice?” he asks, his lips brushing against your ear so you could hear him above the music. He gestures to the speakers, though you barely register anything beyond the shudder down your spine.

“Absolutely,” you reply, reaching for his drink and taking a swig yourself. You’re about to continue bantering with him when, out of the corner of your eye, you notice something particularly interesting.

You watch as Seonghwa, clad in his all-black outfit you’d helped him pick out, stood beside a notably attractive guest of the night. Her long raven hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose waves, her outfit a near twin to his. Her makeup compliments her features incredibly, smudges of dark eyeliner and a glossed lip. Seonghwa whispers something to her that causes her to throw her head back in a fit of laughter.

She rests a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head at whatever he could have possibly said. He gestures to her drink, seeming to offer her a refill before heading to the kitchen himself. You scoff at the sight, turning back to Hongjoong with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“You look fine as hell tonight,” Hongjoong comments, a lazy grin etched across his face as he takes another sip of his drink. You couldn’t tell if it was the jealousy nipping at your stomach, the warmth of the alcohol, or just sheer attraction to Hongjoong in the moment that was warming your face in response. “Trying to impress someone?”

“Hoping that it’s you?” you tease, your eyes trailing down his figure as you laugh.

“So what if I am?” He inches closer, turning his body so he’s hovering just above yours where you lean against the wall. Over Hongjoong’s shoulder, you meet Seonghwa’s eyes as he’s returning to the living room with drinks in hand for him and his plaything.

His gaze darkened as he pressed his tongue against his cheek, shaking his head as he returned to the girl waiting on her drink. Seonghwa drapes an arm around her waist, pulling her closer against his side as they resume their conversation. 

“Do I get something in return for looking ‘fine as hell tonight’?” you poke at Hongjoong, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His breath hitches, fingertips ghosting down your sides and coming to rest at your waist in a tight grip. You hum under your breath at his touch, shifting your gaze to Seonghwa’s eyes that were now deadlocked on every move Hongjoong made.

Hook, line, and sinker.

“What do you want, princess?” Hongjoong asks in a low voice, one that would have had you melting in his arms before Seonghwa sifts through the crowd and pulls you away from him by your arm. You gasp in surprise, not looking back as he drags you with him towards the bathroom.

Finding a seat on top of the counter, you watch as Seonghwa hurriedly locks the door before turning to you. He settles between your legs, shoving them apart forcefully and pulling you close so that you were flush against his chest.

“I don’t want to play that game anymore,” he growls, one of his hands snaking up to your hair and pulling it back roughly so that you were forced to look at him. A laugh slips past your lips, though it’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the heat that crept towards your core at the way he was behaving.

“We haven’t even gotten into it yet,” you retort breathlessly with a greedy smile on your face. “And, this was your suggestion.”

A silly little wager. Seonghwa swore up and down before you’d left for the party tonight that he was not, nor would he ever be, the jealous type. You agreed, doubling down on your own belief that you weren’t the jealous type, either. Given how new your relationship was, you hadn’t had time to share the news with your friends—making tonight’s party the perfect scenario to test one another.

Though, it seems as though Seonghwa failed miserably.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” he chuckles, his grip tightening on your hair as you let out an involuntary moan. “Playing with Hongjoong in front of me like that.”

“Oh, so we are the jealous type now?”

Seonghwa laughs again darkly, releasing his grip on your hair and sliding his hand down to wrap his fingers around your neck. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours as he whispers against them.

“So, you’d let Hongjoong fuck you tonight if I hadn’t stopped you?”

“No,” you answer, shuddering at the way he bites your bottom lip. You move to close your legs for some sort of friction to ease the nerves pricking at your core. Seonghwa notices what you’re doing, pressing your legs further apart with his in response.

“No, what?” he snarls, and you know what he’s expecting.

“No, sir.”

Seonghwa groans against your mouth before yanking you off of the counter and turning you to face the mirror in one swift motion. Neither of you had bothered to turn on the lights, your eyes adjusting to the dim moonlight filtered through the bathroom window. He held a hand to the nape of your neck, the other pressed into your waist so that you could feel every inch of him against your back.

“And you want me to fuck you tonight?” he asks, his voice a strained whisper against your ear. You say nothing in response, earning fingers pressed deeper into your waist. “Unravel you like the pretty little slut you are?”

“I—I,” you stutter between deep breaths, meeting his hungry gaze in the mirror with a moan.

“Use your words, babygirl.” He hikes up the satin fabric of your skirt, dancing a hand across your thigh dangerously close to your core.

“I need you to fuck me tonight,” you practically beg, feeling the way his length hardens against you at the way you whined for him. “Please.”

Without warning, he lets you go and moves to unlock the door.

“Let’s get going, then.”

* *

The two of you left the party in a flurry of hasty goodbyes, messy kisses in the elevator, and a car ride home with Seonghwa’s hand rested firmly on the inside of your thigh. You took not more than two steps into your shared apartment before he kicked the door shut behind him, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head against the entryway wall.

His lips meet yours hungrily, the two of you a tangled, moaning mess. You fight against his grip, desperate to run your hands through his raven hair. He only grabs your wrists tighter, trailing kisses down your neck before biting down on your collarbone. You moan wantonly, arching your back to beg for more of his touch when he pulls away with a haughty laugh.

“Fuck, you sound so delicious,” he groans, almost immediately slipping his hand up your skirt and pressing his fingers against the soaked fabric of your underwear. “And you already feel even better.”

“Please,” you whisper, and he begins to brush over your clit in slow, tantalizing circles.

“Will you be a good girl and get my fingers wet for me?” Seonghwa asks, his own voice low as he begins to tug at the edge of your underwear expectantly. His eyes are hooded with lust, hair disheveled, and yet, you’ve never found him more attractive.

“Yes, sir,” you manage to get out before he plunges a finger into you. He falls into a steady rhythm, trailing his tongue back along your neck and biting down on your earlobe with another groan beneath his breath. Your stomach is in knots as you rock your hips against his hand, gripping on his shoulders to steady yourself as your legs grow weak.

“Please, don’t stop,” you beg breathlessly, dropping your head back against the wall with another series of moans. Seonghwa quickens his pace, slipping another finger into you and curling them against your walls. You whine at the sensitive touch, bucking your hips in approval. Your chest heaves as your breath is caught in the back of your throat, your core tightening as you feel your orgasm creeping beneath your skin.

“I-I’m going to—”

And out are Seonghwa’s fingers.

“What the fuck?” you snap, eyes wide as you stare at him angrily. He scoffs, licking the taste of you off of his fingers with a sly grin. You were seeing red, and for no good reason. You were close. So, so close.

Without an answer, he lifts you from behind your thighs so that your legs wrapped around his waist and carried you to the dining table. Pulling your skirt and underwear off, he pries your legs apart and stares down at you with a newfound lust in his eyes.

“Touch yourself.”

The command is so simple and so intense all at once. Your cheeks flush as you meet his eyes, the way he devoured every inch of your body on that table without so much as touching you. On one hand, you were tempted to push his buttons and tease him enough that he’d take you then and there.

On the other, you really wanted to come as soon as possible.

Biting at your bottom lip, you slip a hand between your legs and begin to rub against your clit in the same slow circles he was doing not long before. You notice the way his jeans tighten at his bulge, his cock twitching at the sight of you. He settles into one of the dining chairs, a front-row seat to the show you put on for him.

“Such a little slut for attention,” he purrs, pupils dilated as you slip a finger between your folds. You moan at his comment, pumping your finger quicker than before. He pulls you by your thighs so that his mouth is right at your entrance, suddenly moving your hands so that he can slip his tongue into you instead. The sudden shift urges you to arch your back, a drawn-out sigh escaping you.

The wave begins to rise more quickly this time, a response to not being able to come just moments earlier. You feel your breath hitch in your throat, the pressure building in your stomach as you’re about to warn Seonghwa.

And, like clockwork, he pulls away again.

“Seriously?” you bark as you sit up in disbelief. He grabs your chin, brushing a thumb over your bottom lip as he arches a brow.

“I’m still not convinced you want me to fuck you,” he remarks coolly, though the shakiness in his voice proves to you that he’s not far from coming undone himself. You pant desperately, beyond frustrated that two chances to find release slipped right past you.

“Please? Please make me come, I’ll beg as much as you want.” You inch towards the edge of the table again, grabbing desperately at the fabric of his shirt. On a good day, begging this much to be fucked felt beneath you—but after coming so close only to have it ripped away, you felt willing to do anything. “I’ll be as loud as you want, just don’t stop.”

“Fuck,” Seonghwa growls again, unfastening his pants and hooking his arms behind your legs as he positions himself at your entrance. He shoves himself into you, falling into a steady rhythm as he rocks his hips against yours. Your toes curl at the pleasure gnawing at your core, the way he hits the right spot with every move.

Pulling your legs over his shoulders, he angles himself to thrust even deeper into you. The sensation causes you to moan even louder, throwing your head back as you writhed against his touch. You could hear the way he was struggling to contain himself, his breathing fast and shallow.

“Look at me when you come,” he commands breathlessly, fisting your hair in his hand and forcing you to crane your neck to meet his eyes. You could barely keep focus as you felt your orgasm rising at the pit of your stomach, gnawing at your walls and at every thrust he made into you. With one final gasp, you shudder as the orgasm rocked your body and forced you to come undone all over his cock.

Your chest heaved as you fought to catch your breath when you realized—Seonghwa wasn’t slowing down.

“I still haven’t come.” An intoxicated smirk dances across his lips as you watch the way he puts himself into every thrust into you. You clench around him tightly, panting at the added sensation that came from your nerves falling apart.

“Ah, fuck—!” You nearly scream at the sensation, the way he continued to bury himself deep within you even though you were far beyond your breaking point. “S-Seonghwa, I can’t—I—”

“You can take more, babygirl,” he pants, pushing you over the edge just as he did before. The second orgasm shatters every last nerve inside of you, your legs weak and your core nearly numb from the overdose of pleasure.

“Please—fuck!” You finally let out a guttural scream, shuddering as Seonghwa rubs tight circles against your clit. Swollen and throbbing from the release, yet still somehow so responsive. You jerk your hips erratically against his touch, feeling his pace grow unsteady as he finally succumbed to his release.

He slides your legs off of his shoulders, chest heaving as he helps you to sit up and steady yourself. You’re shaking and completely undone, yet somehow more satisfied than ever.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, scanning you for any signs of regret or that he’d done too much. You pull him in for a gentle kiss, the gentlest act either of you had engaged in all night.

Finally able to catch your breath, you pull away with a lopsided grin of your own and ask, “So, you are the jealous type, huh?”

[daisyblog]

Our Story

Summary: YN and Harry have known each other since 2010 when YN's brother, Louis, is put in a band with Harry and three other boys when they auditioned for The X Factor. From the very beginning, YN and Harry were always close, and as time went on feelings grew deeper. This is YN and Harry's story. Faceclaim: Maia Mitchell

YN:

YN Tomlinson An insight into YN's life.

Tattoos YN's tattoos.

Songs Songs (or parts of songs) Harry's written about YN.

Lockscreen Harry and YN's lockscreen photos over the years.

TikTok TikTok’s YN has posted.

2011:

Will You Go On A Date With Me? YN and Harry spend time together and their feelings start to grow. First Date YN and Harry go on their first date. Caught YN and Harry’s relationship is exposed after a photo of them kissing is leaked. Written in Louis' POV.

Caught: Pt2 How Niall, Zayn and Liam found out about Harry and YN's relationship.

2012:

Trust YN and Harry take the next step in their relationship.

Worried YN is worried after her and Harry take the next step in their relationship, and ends up talking to Anne about it.

Little Things YN hears Little Things for the first time.

2013:

Kiss and Make Up Harry and YN have their first argument.

Happy Birthday YN It's YN's Birthday.

Personal Bodyguard YN gets hurts by paparazzi and Harry becomes protective.

YN in This Is Us YN appears in clips in One Direction: This Is Us. Story Of My Life YN appears in the Story Of My Life music video.

2014:

Team Niall YN at The Niall Horan Charity Football Match.

Where We Are YN appears in clips in Where We Are San Siro.

Late YN realises her period is late.

Mother's Love Anne and Jay can see the love Harry and YN have for each other.

Night Changes YN in Harry's part of the Night Changes music video.

2015:

Risky Fun YN and Harry have a little fun on the boys tour bus and get caught by Niall.

I Have One Direction play ‘Never Have I Ever’ on The Ellen Show, and the questions target Harry.

Never Have I Ever Harry gets embarrassed playing a game of Never Have I Ever on The Jonathan Ross Show.

2016:

Just Hold On Harry takes care of YN.

2017:

Teddy Harry surprises YN with a new little addition to their family.

2018:

Shattered Hearts The argument that led to Harry and YN going on a break.

Little Break People find out that Harry and YN have broken up.

Cherry How Cherry was made.

To Be So Lonely How To Be So Lonely was made.

Adore You How Adore You was made.

Gogglebox YN and Louis on Gogglebox.

2019:

Burnout Harry and Louis help YN.

Watermelon Sugar How Watermelon Sugar was made.

Zach Sang Show Louis discusses a small part of YN and Harry's relationship on a talk show.

Spill Your Guts: Harry Styles & YN Tomlinson Harry challenges YN to a game of Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts. Friendship Test Niall Horan and YN Tomlinson Take a Friendship Test.

I'm A Celebrity...Get Me Out Of Here YN is on I'm A Celeb.

2020:

Unexpected Visitor YN has an unexpected visitor.

2022:

Zane Lowe YN is mentioned in Harry’s interview with Zane Lowe.

Uncle Popstar Freddie goes to one of Harry's shows.

Capital FM Interview Harry talks about his new music, My Policeman and Don’t Worry Darling…and of course YN.

Venice Film Festival YN and Louis attend the Venice Film Festival with Harry.

2023:

No Complaints A fan catches a moment between Harry and YN, where she turns something innocent to sexual.

Send To All YN joins Michael McIntyre for a game of Send To All.

Proud Sister YN is by Louis side at his London Premiere for All of Those Voices.

YN and Harry Love On Tour YN and Harry's Outfits and Instagrams during Love On Tour.

Love At Wembley Harry asks YN to marry him at Wembley.

"I'm here for your girlfriend" Harry announces he's engaged during a Wembley Show.

I Think I’m In Love Fans meet YN at LOT Wembley N4.

“Oh Harry” Anne’s reaction to ‘Keep Driving’ lyrics.

Thank You Harry and YN's Love On Tour thank you posts on their Instagram stories.

Faith In The Future Tour Snippets of YN and Harry supporting Louis on his tour.

Niece YN's reaction to having her first Niece.

Mrs Burton YN's reaction to Lottie getting engaged.

Hair YN's reaction to Harry's new hairstyle.

Pregnancy Follow YN and Harry's journey through pregnancy.

2024:

Uncle Harry Harry and YN meet Gemma’s baby.

Wedding Bells Harry and YN finally say “I do!”.

Mr and Mrs Styles Instagram post from Harry and YN’s wedding.

Love Day Harry and YN celebrate their first Valentine’s Day as a married couple.

Hormones YN gets emotional listening to Louis’ interview.

Birthday Twin YN and Harry welcome their baby girl into the world.

Uncle Louis Louis meets Grace for the first time.

Uncle Niall Niall meets Grace.

Dad Mode Harry is overprotective of Grace and worries about everything.

Love for Grace Instagram posts about Grace.

Big Cousin YN’s by Lottie’s side when she finds out she’s pregnant with baby number two.

Styles in Rome Harry, YN and Grace have their first family holiday in Italy.

Cool Sister Lottie talks about YN during her radio interview when promoting her new book.

Big Brother, Little Sister YN, Harry and Grace find out Baby Burton is going to be a girl.

Cousin Love Freddie meets Grace.

The Show Harry, YN and Grace go to Niall’s show in Manchester.

Bare Hands YN notices that Harry wears less rings and no nail polish.

Twitter YN does a Q&A on Twitter.

Sent From Heaven Harry and YN find out they’re expecting Baby Styles number two.

Happy Birthday Anne YN’s instagram post wishing Anne a happy birthday.

Happy Halloween YN, Harry and Grace celebrate their first Halloween as a family of three.

Big Sister YN, Harry and Grace announce their little family is growing.

Happy Birthday Gemma YN’s instagram post wishing Gemma a happy birthday.

The Month of December YN’s Instagram posts leading up to Christmas.

2025:

Baby Styles is a… YN, Harry and Grace find out the gender of baby styles.

Happy Birthday Zayn YN’s Instagram post wishing Zayn a happy birthday.

Happy Birthday Husband YN’s Instagram post wishing Harry a happy birthday.

Mothers Day Harry’s Mother’s Day Instagram post for YN.

[yjw1a1]

Quiet Admiration

PAIRING. Park Jongseong (actor) x female reader (singer) GENRE. celebrity romance, contemporary romance drama and angst WORD COUNT. 3879 WARNINGS. Jay and Y/N both were stuck in toxic relationships. DISCLAIMER. I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING EXCEPT FOR THE WORK I WROTE, SO PLAGIARISM IS NOT ALLOWED HERE. all the credits to the owners of the photos. Please be kind. :) SUMMARY. Y/N, a global pop star, and Park Jay, a rising actor, cross paths over the years—first as strangers, then as fleeting acquaintances. Life pulls them in different directions, with failed relationships and personal growth shaping them into who they are. Many years later, they meet again in a London bookstore—both changed, both ready. What starts as quiet friendship turns into something real, something the world dubs an it couple. But behind the headlines, their love story isn’t about fame—it’s about timing, growth, and finally finding each other when it matters most.

DATE RELEASED . 03.02.2025

THE IT COUPLE. Not the kind splashed across tabloids for messy drama or performative affection. Not the kind that makes grand, over-the-top gestures just for the cameras.

They’re something quieter.

They don’t post about each other much. No long captions or gushy declarations online. No interviews where they spill their entire relationship for the world to consume.

But every once in a while—when a blurry fan photo surfaces of them holding hands in the streets of Paris, or when they’re spotted at a small café in New York, laughing over coffee, or when Jay is seen in the crowd at Y/N's concerts, singing along to her lyrics—

People know.

And the thing about them?

Seeing them together just makes sense.

The air crackles with excitement outside the grand theater, the red carpet stretching like a river of velvet under Y/N's heels. Flashing lights from cameras flicker like stars against the night, and the buzz of reporters, screaming fans, and flashing photographers fills the space.

Y/N adjusts her lustrous periwinkle gown, the custom design hugging her frame perfectly, her signature dark eyeliner sharp and precise. Her heart pounds beneath the layers of satin and nerves. Multiple nominations. Multiple chances to win. The feeling is surrealistic.

“Y/N! Over here! Turn this way!” photographers yell, their voices overlapping.

She pauses, giving them a quick smile, her lips painted in a soft berry shade. She tilts her chin, shifts her posture—years in the industry have taught her how to pose effortlessly—but the cameras demand more.

“Y/N! Just one more shot—” “Y/N, hold that pose!” “Y/N, look to the right!”

She exhales through her nose. The pressure to be perfect lingers in the air as thick as the perfume she sprayed on before leaving the hotel. She takes a step forward, ignoring the calls for more photos, when—

Clink.

Something small and metallic slips from her ear.

She freezes.

Her earring.

A delicate silver piece, barely the size of a coin, now lying on the carpet. Before she can crouch down to retrieve it, a hand reaches out, long fingers picking it up.

“Hey, I think this belongs to you.”

Y/N looks up, her breath catching.

The guy holding her earring is… pretty. Tousled dark hair that falls just above his sharp brows, warm brown eyes that hold a hint of amusement. He’s dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, exuding effortless charm, like he walked straight out of an old Hollywood movie.

“I never expected the Great Y/N to call me pretty, but I am honored,” His eyes seemed to soften at her gaze, contrasting from the teasing grin on his face.   

“Oh—” Y/N starts, but before she can say anything, he steps closer, holding the earring up with a small, knowing smile.

“May I?” he asks. His voice is smooth, the kind that lingers in the air like the last note of a song.

Y/N hesitates, then nods, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that they’re standing in front of hundreds of cameras. He gently tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear before fastening the earring back in place, his fingers brushing against her skin for the briefest moment.

“There,” he says, stepping back. “Good as new.”

She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Thanks,” she murmurs. “That was—very smooth of you.”

His lips twitch into a grin. “I try.”

Just then, a voice calls his name—“Jay! Over here!”—and she realizes who he is. Park Jay. The rising actor everyone’s been talking about. The one starring in the new indie film already generating Oscar buzz. 

He’s here for the same reason she is, but instead of performing, he is one of the hosts. 

Before either of them can say more, the red carpet pulls them in separate directions. But as Y/N walks toward the venue, she catches herself glancing back.

Jay is still standing there, looking at her.

And when their eyes met again, she knew it wouldn't be their last encounter.

Two years pass, and Y/N found herself on the rooftop. The music and the warm city lights make everything feel alive, laughter mixing with the steady beat of bass thumping through the speakers. Jungwon’s parties always had that effortless magic—exclusive but casual, filled with people who were too cool to admit they cared about being there.

Y/N stands near the bar, one hand wrapped around a glass of something fruity, the condensation cool against her fingers. Two years in the industry had changed her—she’s bolder now, more experienced, about the way she carries herself. The shy girl on the red carpet? Long gone.

She barely remembers the last time she was at one of Jungwon’s parties. Or, more accurately, she barely remembers him.

But Jay?

Jay remembers her.

Across the rooftop, he spots her instantly. It’s hard not to. She looks different now—more confident. But there’s still something familiar about the way she tilts her head when she listens, the way her fingers tap lightly against the rim of her glass.

Jay hasn’t seen her since that fleeting moment two years ago, the night of the awards. And judging by the way she’s scrolling through her phone, completely unaware of him, she doesn’t remember any of it.

He grins. This could be interesting.

Y/N turns away from the bar, heading toward the balcony when—

Clink.

Something small and metallic slips from her hair, landing near her feet.

A clip.

She sighs, already reaching for it, when a hand beats her to it. Long fingers pick up the tiny accessory, twirling it between them with casual ease. “Seems like you have a habit of dropping things.”

Y/N blinks up at him. He’s tall, dressed in a simple white button-down and black slacks, the sleeves rolled up effortlessly. His hair is slightly messier than expected, his features sharp but warm under the golden lights.

Something about him feels… familiar. She furrows her brows. “Sorry, do I know you?”

Jay raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. He twirls the hair clip between his fingers. “Wow. Not even a little recognition? That hurts.”

Y/N stares at him for a second longer, searching her memory. Nothing. “…Should I?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You really don’t remember?”

“I mean—” She tilts her head, trying to place him. “Wait. Have we met before?”

Jay smirks. “Red carpet. You dropped an earring and called me pretty.”

It clicks. Y/N’s eyes widen slightly. Oh. Oh.

Now she remembers—the quick exchange, the flash of cameras, the smooth way he had tucked her hair behind her ear.

She lets out a small, breathy laugh. “That was you?”

Jay feigns offense. “You forgot me? I thought I made an impression.”

Y/N crosses her arms, tilting her head playfully. “Well, clearly, it wasn’t that memorable of an impression.”

He grins. “You wound me.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “I was nervous that night, okay? I hardly can recall anything from that award show other than the performances.”

Jay leans in slightly, offering her the hair clip. “Then maybe I should make sure this time is more memorable.”

Y/N tucks the hair clip back into place, her fingers lingering for a second as if she’s still processing the moment. Across from her, Jay watches with an easy, knowing grin, like he already knows he’s managed to wedge himself somewhere in her mind.

“So,” he says, leaning slightly against the balcony railing, “since you somehow forgot me for two years, I feel like I should at least secure a way for you to remember me this time.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?”

Jay pulls out his phone, unlocking it with a quick swipe before handing it over. “Instagram.”

She huffs out a small laugh but takes the phone anyway, fingers moving quickly as she types in her username. A moment later, she hands it back.

Jay looks down at the screen, tapping the blue ‘Follow’ button. “Alright. Now there’s no excuse.”

Y/N smirks, pulling out her own phone. “Fair is fair.” She types in his username—he’s already followed her back—before tucking her phone away.

Then, someone calls Y/N’s name from across the rooftop. She glances over her shoulder, then back at Jay.

“Well,” she exhales, offering a small smile, “I guess I’ll see you around, Jay.”

Jay chuckles. “Yeah. See you around, Y/N.”

And just like that, she’s gone, weaving through the party, leaving behind only the faint scent of vanilla and something floral. Jay glances down at his phone one last time before slipping it into his pocket.

The next two years change Y/N in ways she never expected. At first, she falls into the same patterns—quick, dizzying relationships with men who call her beautiful but never brilliant, who hold her hand in public but never truly hold her when it matters.

She learns, too late, that most of them don’t see her.

They see the name, the career, the headlines. They love the way she shines, but the second she turns down the brightness—when she’s exhausted, insecure, human—they lose interest.

After one particularly bad breakup—one where she realizes, sitting in the backseat of a blacked-out SUV, that she was nothing more than a prize to be won—she makes a decision.

She disappears.

Not from music. If anything, she throws herself into it harder than ever.

But from the world.

She stops posting about her personal life. Stops giving pieces of herself away for the internet to pick apart. She starts writing—not just about love, but about loss. About self-worth. About the loneliness that comes with being desired but never truly known.

Her lyrics shift from heartbreak anthems to truths that sting.

She stops trying to be understood by the world and begins understanding herself.

Meanwhile on Jay’s end for the past two years, at first, he thinks he’s found something real.

His girlfriend—Sophie—is everything he thinks he wants. She’s confident, stunning, someone who knows how to handle herself in a world full of flashing cameras and hungry headlines. She understands his career, knows what it’s like to be watched, to be wanted.

For a while, it’s good. But then, slowly, things shift. She starts controlling the little things. What he wears to premieres. Who he follows online.

At first, it’s subtle.

"You should wear the navy suit tonight. The black one makes you look too serious." "Babe, why are you still following your female co stars and celebrities when you no longer work with them?"

Jay doesn’t argue. They’re small things. Nothing worth a fight.

But then, it becomes more. 

She starts monitoring his schedule, questioning why he’s spending so much time on set, making him feel guilty for things that never used to matter.

"You didn’t call me back last night." "I saw you talking to that actress at the afterparty. You looked really into the conversation." "I feel like I’m the only one trying in this relationship, Jay."

He starts feeling trapped. The relationship is no longer about love—it’s about control. 

Jay sits on the couch, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He’s exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that sleep won’t fix. Sophie stands in front of him, arms crossed, pacing the floor of their shared apartment. Her voice is sharp, cutting into the thick silence between them.

"You don’t even care anymore, do you?"

Jay lifts his head, eyes heavy. "Sophie, we’ve had this argument a hundred times."

"Because you keep giving me reasons to bring it up!" she snaps. "I don’t ask for much, Jay. I just want to feel like I’m your priority."

He exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You are my priority. But you want to control me. There’s a difference."

Her eyes flash with something dangerous. "Control you?" She lets out a bitter laugh. "You make me sound insane."

Jay doesn’t say anything. But he doesn’t have to. She knows. And it only makes her angrier.

"You used to be different," she mutters, shaking her head. "You used to actually try in this relationship."

He lifts his gaze to meet hers. "I used to be happy in this relationship."

The words hang in the air like smoke—thick, suffocating, impossible to ignore. Sophie freezes. Her jaw clenches, but for a second, she looks… scared. As if she’s just now realizing how far they’ve fallen. But then, instead of softening, she turns cold.

"Wow." Her voice is quieter now, but somehow, it cuts deeper. "So what, Jay? You’re saying I’m the reason you’re miserable?"

He swallows. He doesn’t want to say it. Doesn’t want to be cruel. But he can’t lie anymore.

"I think we’re the reason I’m miserable." A silence stretches between them, too wide to cross.

Sophie stares at him, something unreadable in her expression. Then, slowly, she lets out a humorless laugh."Figures." 

Jay watches as she crosses the room, grabbing her coat from the rack.

"You know what?" she says, voice icy. "Maybe you should be with someone else. Someone who doesn’t care who you talk to, who doesn’t expect anything from you. Maybe that’s what you want, huh? A girlfriend who doesn’t actually love you—just lets you do whatever the hell you want."

Jay flinches at her words. Because for so long, he did think Sophie loved him. But now, standing here, watching the way she weaponizes love like a knife, he realizes—This isn’t love. It’s never been love.

Sophie grabs her bag and storms toward the door. "Don’t bother calling me." She slams the door behind her. And for the first time in two years, Jay felt a weight lifted off of his chest.

On the gloomy streets of London, soft rain drizzles over the pavement, misting the windows of a quiet bookstore tucked away on a cobbled street. Inside, the world feels untouched by the chaos outside. The scent of old books lingers in the air, warm light casts golden hues over wooden shelves, and a soft classical melody hums in the background.

Y/N moves through the aisles at an unhurried pace, fingertips grazing the spines of books. She’s learned how to appreciate moments like this—stillness. There was a time when her life had felt like a constant performance, a cycle of flashing cameras, love that never lasted, and people who only wanted the version of her that fit their needs.

But those days are over.

Now, she chooses who gets to know her. Now, she creates for herself. Her last album had been deeply personal, a reflection of heartbreak and healing, of learning how to be alone without being lonely.

And she doesn’t waste time on things that aren’t real anymore.

She sighs and reaches for a book on the top shelf when a book falls onto the wooden floor beside her. Instinctively, she bends down to pick it up. Just as her fingers close around the edge of the cover, another hand reaches for it at the same time.

Warm. Nostolgic.

Y/N’s breath catches as she looks up.

And her world tilts.

It’s him. Jay.

At first, she isn’t entirely sure it’s really him. He looks different. More serious. More refined. Gone is the boy with the cocky grin and playful arrogance. Instead, the man in front of her is quieter—his presence grounded. His dark hair is slightly tousled, a navy coat draped over his broad shoulders, but it’s his eyes that hold her attention.

They aren’t teasing. They aren’t calculating. They’re soft.

“Y/N.” His voice is steady, but there’s something unreadable behind it, like he’s taking in the fact that she’s actually here.

She swallows. “Jay.”

A pause.

Then, he glances down at the book in her hand. The one he dropped.

"The Little Prince." Y/N raises an eyebrow, turning the book over in her hands. “Didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”

Jay lets out a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… I guess I’ve changed.”

She studies him for a second. “Yeah. You have.”

And so have I.

The thought lingers in her mind, but she doesn’t say it out loud.

Jay exhales, shifting his weight slightly. “Do you come here often?”

Y/N smirks, tilting her head. “Are you seriously using a ‘do you come here often’ line on me right now?”

His lips twitch, but there’s no cocky retort. Instead, he just huffs a small laugh, shaking his head. “Not what I meant.”

“Oh?”

“I meant,” he says, slipping his hands into his coat pockets, “do you actually live in London now, or is this just a stop on your world tour?”

She hesitates. Not because it’s a hard question, but because she’s surprised that he actually cares about the answer.

“I live here,” she says finally. “At least for now. Needed a break from LA.”

Jay nods, like he understands exactly what she means. And maybe he does.

“And you?” she asks, arching a brow. “Didn’t take you for a London guy.”

He chuckles. “I moved here last year because I got booked for a couple upcoming movies. That and I figured I’d get away for a while.”

Y/N tilts her head. “Get away from what?”

Jay hesitates for a fraction of a second. Then, instead of brushing it off with a joke like he might have in the past, he actually answers.

“A bad relationship,” he admits.

His honesty catches her off guard. She wasn’t expecting him to say it so plainly, so openly.

Something shifts between them.

Y/N exhales, pressing the book against her chest. “Yeah. Been there.”

Jay glances at her, something unreadable in his gaze. “I know.”

She freezes slightly. “You do?”

He nods, his voice quieter. “I saw your interviews. Listened to your last album.” A pause. Then, softer, “It was good. Really good.”

Y/N isn’t sure why that makes her chest feel warm. Maybe because it’s been a long time since someone complimented her music without some hidden agenda attached.

She clears her throat, looking away. “Thanks.”

Jay exhales, shifting on his feet. At first he looks as if he’s contemplating on saying two different things. Then, as if making a decision, he says, “Do you want to get coffee?”

Y/N blinks. Three years ago, she would have laughed, maybe thrown a playful “Still trying, huh?” his way.

But now?

Now, she sees something different. There’s no smirk. No playful charm like before. He’s not asking to impress her. He’s asking because he genuinely wants to know her.

And for the first time, she thinks—maybe I want to know him too.

She exhales, a small smile forming at the corner of her lips as she hands him back his book. “Yeah,” she says softly. “I’d like that.”

The sound of the cheering crowd still lingers in the air as Y/N steps into her dressing room, her heart still pounding from the adrenaline of performing.

Jay is already inside, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed. He’s wearing a simple black sweater, the sleeves pushed up slightly, his usual effortless charm now something more established. More hers.

She raises an eyebrow. “How’d you get in here so fast?”

He smirks winking at her. “Perks of being pretty and the Great Y/N L/N’s boyfriend. I have special privileges.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at her lips as she grabs a bottle of water and takes a sip.

Jay watches her for a moment before pushing off the wall and walking toward her. “So… that last song.”

She lowers the bottle, glancing at him. “What about it?”

His expression softens. “It was about me, wasn’t it?”

Y/N doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she sets the bottle down and meets his gaze.

“You tell me.”

Jay tilts his head, reciting the lyrics under his breath.

"I dropped a glance, a moment, a name, you were behind me, steady, the same.”

His voice is quiet, thoughtful.

"Books, hairpins, pieces of me, somehow, you caught them effortlessly…"

He looks at her. “Sounds very familiar.”

Y/N exhales a small laugh, playing with the cap of her water bottle. “Maybe.”

Jay grins, stepping closer. “So, let me get this straight. You wrote a song about me and all our little moments over the years… and you made it the final song of your setlist?”

Y/N lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug. “You could say that.”

Jay hums, pretending to think. “Does this mean I’m officially your muse?”

She gives him a look. “Don’t push it.”

He laughs, but there’s something warm in his expression, something that says he knows exactly how much he means to her.

They walk hand in hand, their fingers loosely intertwined, moving with no real destination in mind on the quiet streets of Paris. It’s one of the few times they can just be—no flashing cameras, no interviews, no expectations. Just them.

Y/N pulls her coat tighter around herself, exhaling into the crisp night air. “I can’t believe I actually have a week off.”

Jay glances at her with a teasing smirk. “What, you’re saying the biggest pop star in the world finally knows how to relax?”

She nudges him playfully. “I’m working on it.”

He chuckles, squeezing her hand. “It’s nice, though. Getting to just… walk around like this. No one is bothering us.”

Y/N hums in agreement. “Yeah. I forget how much I miss this sometimes.”

She used to crave the spotlight, used to need it in some ways. But now? Nights like this—where it’s just her and Jay, no one watching, no one expecting anything—this is what she holds onto.

They stop at a small bridge, overlooking the Seine. The water below shimmers under the moonlight, and Y/N rests her elbows against the railing, taking in the view.

Jay watches her for a moment before speaking. “So…”

Y/N turns to him. “So?”

A playful smirk tugs at his lips. “You never actually answered my question.”

She blinks. “What question?”

He leans in slightly, voice dropping. “Am I officially your muse or not?”

Y/N groans, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my god, you’re still on that?”

Jay laughs, gently prying her hands away. “I mean, I am the subject of an award-winning song now. I feel like I deserve an official title.”

Y/N rolls her eyes but can’t help the small smile forming. “You know, this is exactly why I didn’t confirm it.”

Jay raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Because you knew I’d be insufferable about it?”

She sighs dramatically. “Exactly.”

He chuckles, then softens, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “For the record, I think it’s a pretty damn good song.”

Y/N looks up at him, something unreadable in her expression. “Yeah?”

Jay nods. “Yeah.” He pauses before adding, “But I think I like this version of us even more.”

Y/N tilts her head. “What version?”

His fingers gently trace patterns on the back of her hand. “The one where it’s just us. No headlines. No expectations. Just… real.”

Something about the way he says it makes her heart stutter.

She exhales slowly, squeezing his hand. “Me too.”

Jay leans in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Good.”

They stay there for a while, standing together against the backdrop of Paris, their fingers still intertwined.

And though the world may see them as the it couple—the untouchable duo that everyone admires. At the end of the day, this is what matters. Not the fame. Not the cameras. Just them.

NOTE: HEEHEE SURPRISE!! I posted yet again. This one isn't updated, sorry if there wasnt as much y/n and jay interactions but I hope you enjoy it still. I got this idea from the famous Olivia Rodrigo and Louis Partridge duo because they are so cute and I want and need that in my next life... Anyways cheers for my third write on this acc!

~xoxo ruby

© yjw1a1

[tothosewhoyearnforit]

stress relief - itzy yeji

-word count: 3245 words (longest to date :D)

-the yeji fic from many weeks ago. i finally finished it. i have something special that's nearly done. (i promise this time. it was a collection of spare time over a few months)

-dom!yeji, aggresive blowjob, riding, doggystyle, sweaty sweaty sweaty, facial

The stale stench of the air conditioned office clung onto you as you entered the bar.

Being in the bar was the last place you’re supposed to be this month. After just receiving a promotion at your workplace, the workload placed on you gradually kept snowballing to a point of no return. But you couldn’t just give up. Well, first of all, you really needed this job. It paid well, now that you had the promotion. Furthermore, times are changing, there really isn’t very good job stability now and getting fired and being “free” was not to be an option. 

You should’ve been at home, working and completing the reports due next Monday and getting ready for the presentation on Wednesday. Then taking note of all the shipments and settling the deal with the customer from Italy. But eh, it was a Friday, one night wouldn’t hurt right ? 

Or so you thought.

Three quarters through your drink, at around what was probably 11pm, a show begins.

The lights were cut for a brief moment, before spotlights focused onto the pole in the middle of the room. And out comes 5 gorgeous vixen clad in jet black costumes. Then, the music cues. 

Guess who loves you, naya na.

It’s a really, really catchy song and it made the atmosphere super stiff, as if all five of the women were demanding attention and silence as they performed. 

Do I show you? Noya-no.

Okay, this is actually really good music. And good lord those women are gorgeous. 

Ajik time-i anya nan

Jom deo gakkai jom deo gakkai geureoda gapjagi ssak

The choreography too, jesus christ.

But in particular, one of the women is catching your eye. The way her luscious firey orange hair, jewelry embedded within, moves in perfect tandem with her body, which by the way, is absolutely killing it. Every single dance move, to the smallest body pop, is quite literally perfect. Flawless. She’s wearing a sleeveless top and it’s really turning you on. Her arms are so gracious, and you’d love to feel them all over your body. Her collarbones and neck, they’d look so much better with your lovemarks on them. And the little bit of breast peeking out from the top. It’s more than enough to get your heart racing, and you take another sip of your icy cold drink to properly brace yourself for whatever they have left in store.

Imma steal it mameul humcheo

You are gonna love me.

That’s absolutely incorrect. You’re more than loving them, you’re fucking captivated by them.

Gyeoljeongjeogil ttae ippareul deureonaeneun type 

And suddenly, the orangehead takes the stage. 

The lyrics become an absolute blur to your ears as all your mind is fixated on is the absolutely stunning woman. God, she fucking looks like a cat too. Those damn fucking eyes are so… succubus like. And after twirling her fingers in your direction, she suddenly does a slut drop, squatting while spreading her legs apart. Now your eyes are staring at her milky thighs that are on full display under the spotlight. A million things are running through your mind right now, and none of them was related to your work life in any sort of way.

You’ll never know.

Her left thigh moves,snapping you out of your momentary hypnosis and your eyes quickly dart back up and you see her staring at you, a smirk dashed across her face. 

The rest of the song plays on but your mind is now playing that same slut drop moment over and over again. Eventually, the song ends and all 5 of the women are panting, sweat starting to collect at their foreheads. They retreat behind the stage quickly and the rest of the club goes on like the performance of their lives didn’t just happen. 

.

.

Give or take 10 minutes, you are on the way back from a toilet trip. At your table, you are greeted with a very much welcome surprise. The same fiery haired girl is sitting in the seat opposite of yours, watching you make your way back to your seat. 

“Hey there oppa.” Her voice is a knife full of confidence, laced with venom. 

“H-hey. Nice performance out there.” You grab your drink again, needing a punch of ice to hide your nervousness. But it’s so hard to maintain composure, especially when your eyes are looking at everything but her own cat eyes. 

“I know. You clearly enjoyed it. Or rather, you enjoyed me.”

“Was I really that obvious?” That was definitely the alcohol talking. You would have said something like “Sorry” or “I didn’t mean to.”, but no, you were playing the fool, like an absolutely rizzless bastard.

“My group has 5 members, yet every time I moved position, your gaze was glued onto me.”

“Well, you are really, really hot.”

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

Bring the glass to your mouth again, shit. It’s fucking empty.

“So, what’s a young office worker doing in our bar?” She asks, elbows on the table, her head supported by her cupped hands as she leans in. 

“Well, to be fair, I walked in thinking it was a regular bar. I just needed a drink to take my mind off of work.”

“Are we not a regular bar? Anything special about this bar?” She asks, clearly trying to poke at you, like a cat playing with a ball of yarn.

You take another awkward sip of your drink, which was just melting ice at this point.

The conversation continues hazily and you guys chat for what must be hours until the distance between both your faces was probably the size of your drink.

“Can't imagine how stressed you must be.” Her right hand falls into your left, fingers tracing your forearm as she whispers. “Want to get out of here? I’ll get rid of all your stress for you…”

Ah, an offer you couldn't refuse. Now that’s some business I don't mind getting done right now.

“Say less… Um, I didn't catch your name?”

“Name’s Yeji. Don't worry oppa, you're gonna be moaning my name all night.”

And in a flash, you're both out of the club and in your car. You don't waste a single second. Foot on the pedal and you're on the streets of Seoul, zipping past the buildings of the city. 

Yeji, in the meantime, has other plans.

She takes your hand, and places it on her thigh. You can feel her gaze, waiting to see what your next move is. Were you gonna retract your hand and focus on getting home quick and safely? Or were you gonna start the study of Yeji’s body right then and there?

Obviously the latter.

Your hand roams around the silky smooth skin of hers. Pinky occasionally dipping into the gaps in her pants and rubbing against her inner thigh. You hear Yeji suck in a deep breath, the horniness evidently getting to her.

Fuck, fucking red light!

You seize the opportunity to look at Yeji, she’s now grinding against your exploring hand and you can't help but sneak a finger into her pussy. 

Green light. And your foot is back on the pedal. Finally, you reach the last turn into your apartment.

As soon as you get out of the car and into the elevator, Yeji pounces on you. Your hands catch onto her thighs for stability. Your lips crash against one another, her teeth biting your lower lips. 

Ding. Elevator door opens.

Door. Open. Bedroom. Bed.

No time to even register a logical sequence of actions. You toss her against your bed. Yeji is now a panting sweaty mess, but it doesn't matter. She looks even more gorgeous with the thin layer of sweat across her skin. Collarbones, arms and armpits glistening with sweat. You pin her hands above her head and nibble on her neck. Then, tongue out, you start collecting the sweat, from her armpit, across her chest and then from the middle of her neck to behind her ear, where you whisper, “You taste fucking amazing.”

“I know.”

You reach behind and pull down the zipper leading right to her tailbone, then help the foxy girl out of the one piece top. You pause for a moment to take in the sight before you. A smoking hot dancer is lying on your bed in nothing but a strapless bra and a thin black thong and some knee high boots. Yeji’s body is fucking picture perfect. Tight midriff, perky breasts, juicy thighs, not to mention her pretty face.

“Let me put on a show oppa. Just for you.”

She gets off the bed and you take her spot on the edge of the bed. Yeji turns around and takes off the bra, placing it on the ground next to her. Then, she bends over, putting her perky ass on display for you as she pulls off the lacy thong from her slender toned legs.

“You know, I should charge extra for this performance.”

You wouldn’t mind paying any amount to see this performance if you were being honest. 

“Boots on or off oppa ?”

“On.”

Yeji then smiles, tosses her thong onto your face, allowing you to grab a deep whiff of her sex. In front of you, Yeji is back in her slut drop position, but this time it’s even more erotic because she’s wearing nothing but the boots. Her pussy is on full display as she spreads her legs open, with just a little bit of hair going down the middle.

“Fuck, Yeji…” Your cock was throbbing within the confines of your pants with her tiny little strip show.

“Told you you’d be moaning my name.”

Yeji then straddles your lap, looks into your eyes while unbuttoning your shirt. 

“Let’s get all that stress out of your body, oppa. Think about nothing but me, okay?”

“You don’t even need to ask Yeji-ah.”

You pepper her neck with kisses as she peels your shirt off. She then lowers herself, hands grazing across your body, down to your pants which she pulls down. Finally free, Yeji purrs when she sees your length. 

“Wow, it's huge, oppa. Can’t wait for it to be deep inside my pussy.”

She gathers some spit on her hand and uses that same hand to stroke your cock, taking a cold fingertip across your sensitive tip each time she reaches your head. Each swipe across sent you nine realms ahead. It wasn’t clear if it was the alcohol or Yeji’s pure skill at this, but all you could hear was the loud hammering of your heartbeat. Or maybe that was the lewd sound of her saliva being spread over your length. Then, after spontaneously deciding that your cock was ready for the onslaught that was to come, Yeji pushes both your legs off the ground and onto her shoulders and lets the front portion of your cock rest in her mouth. Your balance is shifted. You’re now staring at the ceiling, stimulation after stimulation speeding down your nerves from your cock to your brain. You feel her mouth bobbing up and down on your length, her skillful tongue working its way across its veiny landscape. You try to will yourself to get up to watch the spectacle happening before your eyes but the pleasure drags you the fuck back down and all you can do in response is let out weary breaths and sinful moans while your toes curl and leg muscles spasm. 

And your cock isn’t even all the way through.

Yeji plunges her head down like a vulture diving into the carcass of a dead buffalo, and you feel that sharp nose of hers bump into your pelvis. The sudden action takes you by surprise and, from god knows where this submissiveness came from, you arch your back and let out a sound that you swear to never to make again. You feel saliva coating your nutsack now but when Yeji slowly removes her mouth from your cock, letting the cool wind graze your cock, all you want to do is beg Yeji to put your cock back inside her mouth. But that need not be done, because as you have a brief moment to register the influx of sensations, she hungrily goes back down onto you. Her prey. You would kill to see her eyes right now, staring straight into your own as she watches you submit to her. But then again, from the amount of noise you were making, it was pretty evident that she had you in the palm of her hand. It was just twice. Just twice that the whole length of your cock was engulfed by her mouth, but it drived you to the absolute edge and you felt like your first load was about to come.

“Fuck, Yeji. I- I- I’m gonna fucking…”

Maybe you shouldn’t have given her the verbal cue. Because just as you feel the gates of heaven about to open, she quickly withdraws. The feeling of the climax fading away throughout your crotch. You look at her with a face of discontent, displeasure and anger.

“Can’t have you busting so soon,” she says, chuckling to herself as she climbs over your vulnerable naked body after kicking off her boots, rubbing circles on her slickening pussy. “I'll let you cum deep down my throat some other time.” 

She climbs over you and hovers above your crotch. Grabbing your stimulated, twitching cock in one hand, she lines it up with the folds of her pussy and in one fell swoop, with no prior warning that she was going to go all the way down in one shot, she sits on your pelvis, practically impaling her pussy with your cock. 

“Anggh! Fuck!” A sharp, shrill moan of pleasure erupts from her mouth as her ass rests on your pelvis. Your hands wondrously find their way to her toned sweaty thighs, grazing the muscle on it in pure wonder and amazement. 

“You’re so fucking hot Yeji ah, and so freaking tight!” The fiery redhead doesn’t say a word, but she continues the ride. Hands on your pectoral muscles, Yeji displays her body isolation skills learned from dance. Her gaze fixes onto yours once again as she moves her hips up and down and you can only imagine what her ass looks like as it does this motion. But imagination always becomes reality when Yeji is around. The sexual chemistry between the two of you is just perfect, or maybe Yeji just knows what you so desperately want but is too shy to voice out. She turns around, her hands resting on your legs this time as she does the same vertical wave motion with her hips once again. Her beautiful butt is like a hypnotic pendulum, your eyes fixed on the gorgeous peach in front of you, it’s just irresistible to slap. And so you do. 

Slap! 

“Angh!” Crimson locks of hair get flung up into the air as Yeji throws her head back in response.

You bring a palm down on the flesh and watch how it ripples in response, a red handprint faintly appearing at the spot that was struck. Such a goddamn vixen. Is the only thought that runs through your mind, perhaps the only thought that has been running through your mind the entire night as soon as you laid your eyes on the foxy woman. Her pulsing butthole intrigues you as her hips work their magic, and you can’t help but take your index finger, and slowly slide it into her puckered hole. As your finger snakes its way in, her anal walls clamp down on it until your whole finger up till your knuckle has been engulfed. 

“Holy shit! Just like that oppa! Stuff both my holes up!” 

You withdraw your finger and this time, using both your index and middle finger, you embark on yet another tight fit into her anal cavity. Yeji’s hips start to slow down as she reaches the pinnacle of her stimulation. 

“Fuck-ah! Cumming!”

Her body convulses violently and you feel her muscles contract around your submerged fingers and your cock. You give her alluring buttcheeks another firm slap that echoes throughout the darkness of the night and watch as she slowly climbs off of you.

“You haven’t cum yet oppa…”, she whines, still in her lustful trance. “And my pussy is still yearning for a good pounding.” She wiggles her hindparts in front of you in a doggy position, spreading her pussy lips for you to see. You line yourself up behind her, give that gorgeous ass of hers another firm slap before sending your cock back into its rightful embrace. 

“Oh fuck…” Your cock’s reentering of Yeji’s tight pussy is like getting back into the swimming pool after being exposed to the cool air for too long. Warm. Wet. Refreshing. Her vaginal muscles are still so full of vigor despite having just came, almost as if they were desperately trying to wring you dry. Her scarlet nails dug into the bedsheets as you picked up a steady pace of thrusting your hips. From the back, you bunched up her fiery hair into a makeshift ponytail while your other hand rested nicely on her hip.

“That’s it! Fuck me harder! Use me as your fucking stress relief toy oppa!” That entire dialogue was more than a green light to you. Tightening your core to its limits, you picked up the pace, slamming your hips ever so desperately, with Yeji letting out a raspy moan with every smack that reverberated throughout the night. 

“Holy- Angh! FUCK! I’m gonna cum oppa! I’m gonna fucking cum!” Yeji cries out. Her pussy constricts around your cock for the second time of the night, this time an erotic geyser of squirt ensues, covering your thighs in her slick. Your own orgasm starts to surface. Pulling out of her pussy, you flip Yeji onto her back and climb over her. You point your cock at her and aggressively jerk yourself off to the finish line. 

“That's it. Cum for me. Cover me in your cum oppa. Paint your slut in-”

Yeji is interrupted by streaks and streaks of cum erupting from your cock in what must be your biggest orgasm to date, painting her sharp features, her chin, nose and eyes. The sweaty, panting mess sticks out her sharp tongue in an attempt to collect some food samples. 

“Oh, fuck… Yeji ah.” is all you manage to squeeze out as the last drops of your semen land on her face. 

“Gosh, you sure came a lot.” 

You collapse beside her, both of you sweaty messes. “What can I say? I had a lot of stress pent up inside me.”

Yeji gets up, and walks away from the bed. You still lay there, utterly spent, watching her hypnotizing body sway from left to right.

“Where are you going?”

“To the shower you dummy.”

A brief moment of silence follows as you are unsure of how to reply. Do you join her? Maybe she’s tired and doesn’t want round two.

But your thoughts get interrupted as she makes the choice for you.

“Oppa, are you not joining me?”

Suddenly, your body is full of vigor once more as you imagine the two of you soaped up together in the shower, feeling each other and exploring more of each other’s body. You excitedly hop off the bed and scurry to the shower. It was going to be a long, long night.

[misshoneyimhome]

250 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“I like waking up with you” I Nico Hischier

Summary; While Nico Hischier may struggle with expressing his emotions, leading to occasional frustrations and arguments, a strong relationship can withstand any challenge.

Tropes & warnings; no warnings; strangers to lovers, couples fight; very mild-smut descriptions;

Other notes; so as I finished, I sort of realised that it doesn’t really have much plot - it’s just pure fluff; still hope it’s readable 😅 inspired by the lyrics from ‘PILLOWTALK’ by Zayn Malik 🤍

Word count; 1.7K

➼｡ﾟ

You and Nico fell in love quicker than you ever imagined possible. In a way, it felt as if fate had brought you together on purpose, weaving your lives into a beautiful tapestry of love and passion. It was as simple as the fairy tales you grew up with; from the moment you met him on that crisp autumn evening, you knew your life would change forever. It was love at first sight.

Your love story began at something as simple as a charity event for the New Jersey Devils, right at the start of the hockey season. It was a night filled with glamour and excitement, the room adorned in the team's red, white, and black colours.

You were there as a friend of one of the team’s partners, however, as the event had unfolded, you suddenly found yourself standing alone, without the companion you’d arrived with.

Yet, in a mere moment, lost in thoughts as you gazed into thin air, among the buzzing crowd, your eyes suddenly met Nico Hischier's. His big, brown golden eyes captivated you instantly, sparking a connection you simply couldn't deny.

And to your surprise, Nico confidently made his way through the crowd in your direction, never breaking eye contact. And when he stood before you, his smile was nothing but magnetic.

"Hello," he said, his voice smooth with a hint of a sweet yet rough accent. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. Would you mind if I joined you?"

Though his boldness took you aback, there was just something about him that had you drawn in. And before you knew it, you were engrossed in deep conversation, completely oblivious to the world around you.

"I must admit," Nico said with a playful glint in his eyes, "I didn't expect to meet someone as captivating as you at this event."

His words warmed you, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks. "I could say the same about you," you replied with a soft smirk, completely unable to look away from him.

And as the night then progressed, you felt an unexpected strong and deep connection to the Swiss captain, as if you'd known each other for ages. So as the evening slowly drew to a close, you couldn't shake the feeling that this might just be the beginning of something extraordinary.

**

To say the least, you were absolutely right. As the weeks passed and turned into months, your connection with Nico only grew stronger. And before long, despite your initial hesitation, you moved from being just good friends to something definite more.

It was no secret between you, that you’d had concerns, influenced by the idea of dating a professional hockey player with a demanding lifestyle and packed schedule. However, Nico dispelled those worries with his steadfast commitment to you. He didn't just start calling you his girlfriend sooner than expected; he proudly introduced you to everyone as his partner anywhere you went, demonstrating his dedication through every word and deed. In a way, it was quite remarkable how, despite the demands of his career, he always found time for you, placing your relationship above all else.

Because Nico's life as a hockey player did indeed involve frequent travel, rigorous training sessions, and the pressure of performing on the ice. There were nights when he returned home exhausted, his body aching from a challenging game. Yet, even in those moments, he never failed to show you love and appreciation. Whether through a heartfelt text before bed or a lengthy phone call while on the road, he made sure you felt valued and cared for.

And especially one aspect of your relationship that remained constant was the physical connection you shared. The chemistry between you was electric, igniting flames of desire that grew hotter with each passing moment. Your intimate moments together were nothing short of explosive, leaving you both breathless and exhilarated every time.

Incredible sex became a defining feature already in the very beginning of your relationship, the kind that would make the neighbours blush and the walls tremble. But you never paid any attention to the noise complaints or the curious glances from passers-by. In those moments of passion, it was just you and Nico, lost in each other's embrace, consumed by the intensity of your love.

During those intimate moments, you felt the deepest connection with Nico, as the barriers between you dissolved and you revealed your souls to each other in the most vulnerable and intimate way possible. Every time you lay intertwined in the aftermath, your bodies still tingling with pleasure, you were certain that you were in love.

However, naturally, challenges arose along the way. No relationship is without its flaws, including yours. Arguments erupted over missed dates or suddenly cancelled plans, tensions escalating like an impending storm. Yet, as always, Nico had a knack for smoothing over rough patches, turning conflict into connection. With just a smile or a tender gesture, he could transform the atmosphere between you from a war zone into a paradise.

It was a turbulent relationship, to say the least. Nico's ability to express his absolute joy and deep love for you was unmatched, his affection evident in every touch and whispered word. But beneath that outward display of affection lay a layer of resilience and reticence when it came to his concerns and fears.

And it didn't take you long to notice that he tended to bottle up his negative emotions, keeping his worries hidden deep inside. Nico was skilled at putting on a brave face, particularly as the team captain, even when the weight of the world seemed to be bearing down on him. And while you admired his strength and resilience, it also led to frustration and tension between you.

There were times when you wished he would open up, and share his fears and insecurities with you. However, whenever you broached the subject, he would shut down, enveloping himself in silence. In those moments, the distance between you almost felt insurmountable, like an unbridgeable chasm. But, no matter how bad your arguments could be, Nico never let you go to bed angry or sad.

One evening, after a rather heated argument, you sat on the edge of his bed, tension thick between you.

"I'm sorry, y/n," Nico said softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I didn't mean to shut you out like that. Sometimes I just feel the need to be strong for everyone else, and I forget that it's alright to lean on you too."

His words resonated deeply within you, highlighting the complexities of his role both on and off the ice. You reached out, taking his hand and gently squeezing it as you met his gaze.

"You don't have to be strong all the time, Nico," you reassured him, your voice gentle yet firm. "I'm here for you, through thick and thin. We're a team, remember?"

And a faint smile slowly grew and played on Nico's lips as he nodded, gratitude shining in his eyes. "I know," he murmured, his voice heavy with emotion. "And I'm thankful for you every day, y/n. I don't know where I'd be without you."

Navigating the highs and lows of your relationship required a delicate balance. Yet, through it all, your love for each other remained unwavering, and you were determined to face the challenges together, hand in hand.

In fact, maintaining this steadfastness was surprisingly simple; Nico never allowed you to even consider the idea of walking away. And truth be told, you had no desire to. Despite the ups and downs, everything between you felt pure, raw, and intensely passionate.

**

The past year had been nothing but a whirlwind for both of you, with highs of victories and lows of defeats. Throughout it all, you had been each other's support, standing strong through thick and thin. And with the off-season offering a brief break from the hockey season's demands, you cherished every moment spent together, aware that Nico would soon be back on the ice, fully engrossed in the game.

Then as the autumn leaves then began to change, marking the start of a new season, Nico's excitement was beyond palpable. He simply couldn't contain his joy at the prospect of another year filled with his beloved sport and the woman who had captivated his heart.

And as you lay together in the gentle morning light, Nico's words enveloped you like a warm embrace, filling you with love and affection. His vulnerability caught you off guard, as his declaration of love lifted your spirits.

"I like waking up with you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion, echoing the sentiment you had shared countless times before.

Your heart fluttered at his words, warmth flooding through you at the depth of his affection. You gently reached out, brushing your fingers against his stubbled jaw as you spoke softly, a smile gracing your lips.

“I like waking up with you too…” you murmured, your voice filled with tenderness.

But it was evident there was more on his mind. "I can’t believe I have you in my life... I love you, y/n…" Nico's voice quivered with emotion, his gaze locked on yours as if seeking reassurance.

And you couldn’t deny the way your heart swelled with love for him, mirrored in the depths of his gaze. "Nico," you whispered, reaching out to stroke his hair, "I love you too, more than words can express."

The moment hung heavy with emotion and possibility. Then, with a surge of determination, Nico voiced the question he'd been pondering for a while.

"Move in with me, y/n," he implored, hope and longing evident in his eyes. "Please. I want us to wake up together every day, fall asleep in each other's arms. Will you move in with me?"

And you couldn’t help but let a tear slowly well in your eye at the sincerity of his request, overwhelmed with love for the man before you. So without hesitation, you simply enveloped him in your arms, whispering your answer in his ear.

"Yes, Nico," you choked out, your voice thick with emotion, "Of course I'll move in with you.”

As you held each other in the gentle dawn light, surrounded by the promise of a new beginning, you knew this was just the beginning of a beautiful chapter in your love story. With Nico by your side, you felt ready to face whatever the future held, confident that together, you could overcome anything.

[xmads-omensx]

Noah learns over time that readers bar for men is literally on the ground so he does what he can to be the best for her. Reader doesn't expect him to remember how she drinks her coffee or tea, doesn't expect household chores to be 50/50 (is used to men doing nothing but playing video games), never having doors held for her, never had the sidewalk rule used on her, never had a man remember when she stopped at a store to look at something just a little longer...etc. the bar is basically non-existent and he is determined to change that for her.

The Little Things

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: none, brief mentions of previous relationships that weren’t the best

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lacy1986

I'm going to be so real right now, I was tempted to just write the lyrics of Little Things by One Direction into a one shot but didn't want to SOB first thing in the morning lmao.

Hope you enjoy because I had fun writing it! :)

Noah didn't realise how low your bar was in terms of men for the first six months of your relationship.

Initially, he just thought you were putting in extra effort since it was a new relationship, but when your actions didn't lessen, he started to get a bit... intrigued.

You cleaned all the dishes after eating dinner together despite Noah offering to help.

You always specified how you wanted your coffee and tea, despite the fact that he knew your preferences like the back of his tattooed hand.

You never let him help you out with any chores. Hell, you even tidied his house up a bit when he was in the studio and you had spent the night.

You had memorised how Noah liked things organised and cleaned, and executed it perfectly.

It unsettled Noah slightly.

So, he hatched a plan.

He would not let you lift a finger at all.

But that didn't work because you were far too stubborn to let him do anything at all.

However, your face when he told you that you weren't to help out whatsoever told him everything he needed to know.

You wouldn't let him help, because you weren't used to having help.

He knew your past relationships hadn't been the best and that your exes hadn't treated you well, but what he hadn't realised is that you practically bent over backwards to do everything for them.

He wasn't sure what he needed to do, but he knew that he needed to do something.

The idea came to him when you had both gone shopping one day.

He always noticed when you looked at something for slightly longer than you looked at other things.

If you saw a pair of boots you liked. If you saw a jumper you liked. If you saw a necklace you liked.

He always took a sneaky photo to keep for gift ideas for your birthday, Christmas or anniversary.

However, that day he decided he needed to buy the bag that you had been glancing at.

After he dropped you off at your apartment building that evening, he raced back to the mall and bought it for you. He ended up getting the matching purse alongside the bag simply because he felt that he needed to go big with it.

He placed the bag on his desk in his bedroom and waited anxiously for the next week to roll around so that he could give it to you.

Noah was devastated to discover that you had been swamped with work, so couldn't go out with him that afternoon.

He needed to cheer you up.

After concocting yet another villainous plan, Noah drove to the nearby coffee shop and ordered you your favourite coffee, just the way you like it.

You had always joked about how you had a long and complicated coffee order that no one could ever remember, so you had always just gotten a latte when someone else was getting you coffee to simplify things.

Noah wouldn't allow that.

He knew your order.

Hell, he knew your favourite foods at different restaurants. He knew your preferred brand of tea bags. He knew what size you were in every single item of clothing from all the brands you liked. He knew exactly how you liked your grilled cheese made.

He knew everything about you.

Noah picked up the box with the bag and matching purse inside before getting your coffee and driving to your apartment building.

You buzzed him in with a great degree of confusion as you had cancelled, but his arrival in your apartment made everything clear to you.

You were shocked that Noah had bought you the bag you liked as you hadn't even said anything about liking it in the first place.

"I have eyes, baby, I can see when you look at something for longer." Was the motive behind his purchase.

However, when you saw the label on the side of the coffee cup that now sat on the coffee table, you felt your eyes begin to water.

He remembered your order.

Your stupidly long and complicated order.

He knew it.

Noah wiped a tear that had fallen from your eye with him thumb before telling you that he wanted to split chores 50/50 because that's how it should be.

It wasn't fair you doing all of the work whilst he sat and watched.

That night you cooked dinner and Noah washed the dishes.

It felt nice not doing everything.

Sure, it was a bit of a shock to the system, but Noah made you realise what a relationship should feel like.

You felt like his equal.

[ghostofhyuck]

Even when the night changes, it will never change me and you. ⋆˚꩜。

nct dream as one direction songs.

‧˚ʚ ───────── ₊‧꒰ა ୨ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊ ───────── ɞ˚‧

Mark Lee ; Night Changes

Does it ever drive you crazy Just how fast the night changes?

I don't know but Mark just suits Night Changes the most!! I feel like it talks about how you and Mark grew together until you two grew older and realized that a lot has changed between the two of you. And yet, your relationship with him never changed at all!! CRIES. Your personalities may changed, and something shifted in yourself but you and Mark? still the same! also the song has a lot of assurances, so that's why it suit Mark the most. 

Huang Renjun ; More than This

When he opens his arms and holds you close tonight, It just won't feel right, 'Cause I can love you more than this

Renjun just suits More than This the most. The lyrics, the angst??? yeah it describes Renjun who's your best friend WHO at the same time loves you for so long. And he has witnessed you date a lot of guys and deep inside i feel like he knows that he can love you more than the guys you've dated before. But he doesn't know where to place himself, so he just remain there as your friend, and could only yearn to love you. 

Lee Jeno ; Where do Broken Hearts Go?

Try to find you, but I just don't know Where do broken hearts go

Upbeat song with a depressing lyrics about a heart break and break up? this is Jeno! I don't know but I can imagine Jeno singing this to be honest BUT imagine ex-bf! Jeno who you broke up with you and you two were SO devastated about it. And soon, Jeno realized that he fucked up with his decision to break up with you, so he's wanted to find you again and wanted another chance with you. 

Lee Donghyuck ; 18

All I could do is say that these arms were made for holding you I wanna love like you made me feel when we were 18

No seriously, Haechan just matches 18 the most! (insert his 10 years unrequited love.) so I bet that Haechan knows what love means since he was young. He would probably don't know how to but at that young age, he just knows that he wanted to be with you!! That's why 18 is such a cute song for childhood friends to lovers because imagine this trope at Haechan :< Like until you two grew older in your 20s, you two will still recall your young love at 18. 

Na Jaemin ; Perfect

If you like to do whatever you've been dreaming about Then baby, you're perfect

Oh, perfect is so Jaemin-coded. I just know it!! The secret affair, the late-night rendezvous, and doing the most wildest things despite the scandal, Jaemin is willing to do so just for you!! It's a risky love and there's a lot of gamble about, but god, this is Na Jaemin. Even though your relationship with him is uncertain, you still are willing to risk it just for him!! (I mean look at him, and tell me you wouldn't risk everything for him.)

Zhong Chenle ; They Don't Know About Us

They don't know I've waited all my life Just to find a love that feels this right

It was hard to find a song for Chenle to be honest. CRIES. But I feel like TDKAU suits him the most. Imagine a forbidden love with Chenle! It's so genuine and everything just feel so right even though it's wrong!! But for Chenle, he wanted to protect you, he wanted to show the world that he loves you and he's willing to go against everyone!! He's hardheaded and he doesn't care about what they think about!! All he wants for him and you to be together!! <3

Park Jisung ; Last First Kiss

Baby let me be your Let me be your last first kiss

Oh this is so friends to lovers Jisung! This sounds like Jisung confessing to you!! He muster up all the courage to tell you what he feel!! And it sounds so cheesy and cute, but he's just tired of being in the friend-zone so he confessed to you!! I don't know why but this is just Jisung-coded, and honestly, this is so cute :< because after his confession, you two kissed, and it's innocently intimate and you two ended up laughing after!!

[broidobe]

Hi, could you write about ville & the reader who is his childhood sweetheart! 🤍 lots of love!

𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯

dude this is cute asf. i love this man bro.

⁎⁺˳✧༚miscellaneous masterlist

it was late autumn in helsinki, the kind of night where the cold air bit at your cheeks and the streetlights cast long shadows on the cobblestone streets. you were sitting on the steps of a park’s bandstand, bundled in your old leather jacket, waiting for ville. you’d been waiting for him your whole life, really—since the days when you’d race each other through the narrow alleyways as kids, laughing until your stomachs ached. he was always late, but he always showed up.

when he finally appeared, his lanky frame silhouetted against the faint glow of the moon, you couldn’t help but smile. his scarf was wound haphazardly around his neck, and his fingers were already red from the cold. he carried his guitar case in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other, his ever-present aura of quiet intensity following him like a shadow.

“forgot how to tell time again?” you teased as he plopped down beside you, his breath clouding in the chilly air.

“just wanted to make sure you missed me properly,” he shot back, his lips curling into that familiar, lopsided grin. he nudged your shoulder with his. “what’s the rush? you’re stuck with me forever anyway.”

the words hung in the air, their weight surprising even him. ville looked down at his boots, scuffing the toe against the steps, and you felt your chest tighten. you’d always known that—that you and ville were a constant, a fact of life as immutable as the seasons. but lately, with his band taking off and his time growing scarcer, you’d started to wonder if that would change.

“you still believe that?” you asked softly, the question barely louder than the wind rustling through the bare trees.

he turned to you, his green eyes catching the faint light. “you kidding?” he said, his voice low but steady. “you’re the only thing i’ve ever been sure about.”

it wasn’t like ville to be so direct, so vulnerable. but you could see it written all over his face—the fear that he might lose you in the chaos of rising fame, the hope that you’d understand what he couldn’t put into words.

you reached out and took his hand, your fingers cold but steady against his. “no matter how far you go, ville, you’ll always find your way back to me. and i’ll always be here.”

he exhaled sharply, like he’d been holding his breath. then he smiled, small and genuine, and pulled his guitar out of its case. “good,” he said, adjusting the tuning pegs. “cause i wrote you something. it’s not finished yet, but...”

he started to play, his fingers deft despite the cold. the melody was raw and haunting, the kind of song that could only come from someone who’d lived through every lyric. you closed your eyes, letting the music wrap around you like a blanket, and for the first time in weeks, you felt the knot in your chest begin to loosen.

when he finished, he looked at you expectantly, like a kid waiting for approval. “so?”

“it’s perfect,” you said, your voice catching. “you’re perfect.”

he laughed, shaking his head. “far from it. but i’ve got you, so i’ll take my chances.”

and just like that, the doubts and fears melted away. it didn’t matter how crazy things got, how far ville’s star would rise. because at the end of the day, he’d always come back to you—his first song, his forever muse.

[rimunagenius]

I loveeee your writing! could you write some head canons about Caitlin clark dating a famous pop star think Sabrina carpenter and her just being obsessed with reader, talking about her non stop in interviews ect

hi anon! i love this idea and thank you so much!💕

Caitlin Clark x Pop Star!reader

you met the most cliche way but super cute nonetheless

you had been sitting court side at an iowa game after the wrap of your tour

you had been a basketball fan since you were a little girl; you played growing up and in college as well before pursuing your music career

she had caught your eye, you having a little crush on her (her confidence through the TV when you followed on tour, enticed you insanely)

your relationship is definitely she fell first and she fell harder (you fell first and she fell harder)

Caitlin loved your music, putting the whole team on you so when she saw you in the crowd, courtside, she came to impress

you just so happened to show up on the biggest night of her career (she broke all those records and she’ll say it was her playing…her teammates would say your presence contributing to her ambition to break the records quicker)

after the game, you stayed behind, talking to your other friends in the music industry who had been there when some of the team came up to you asking for pictures

Caitlin had press interviews, and when they were over so you asked to take a picture with her

“I should be asking you this question, shouldn’t i?” She smiled at you before putting her arm around your waist, and you to her taking the picture

“My biggest flex is I met my celeb crush.” You told your crowd at your small venue show. “I met the Caitlin Clark, and she’s so much prettier in person.”

You treated your fans like your friends. doing a lot of crowd work and have conversations. You told them the real meaning behind ‘because i liked a boy’

a fan had recorded and leaked the footage, it everting around everywhere and inevitably reaching Caitlin

Jada had showed Kate, who had told Caitlin

That’s when Caitlin had it bad

For the next several weeks after that clip went to the media you and Caitlin went back and forth sharing posts to your story of eachother with “stunning” (directed to you) and “i’m your #1 fan” (directed to her)

you didn’t try and hide it your lyrics more controversial than admitting you had a crush a Caitlin

then you both were at a event, you shooting your shot and inviting her as your date

You guys talked more after the stories so inviting her seemed like the right move to you in starting your evolving relationship

you guys definitely were close that night…

i’m talking paparazzi getting shots of you where Caitlin just so happened to have her arms or hands on your waist

then she started appearing more at your shows wether they were small venues or big arenas

Caitlin definitely was starting to get more confident and cocky with you

“this wouldn’t be an issue if you were my girl already”

“oh, so you got something to ask me?”

“no because you already know you want me, and you know i want you.”

Cait obv asks you to be her gf despite this, and it was very intimate and romantic

the hard launch went absolutely bonkers too because both of your fandoms were so large

you made ten times more appearances at her games, courtside, and repping her number loud and proud

you wrote songs about her, and they did so well because you guys were the model couple

“So how do you feel now that you’re dating the Caitlin Clark?” you’d get asked that so frequently the answer was automatic

“Like the luckiest girl in the world.” It was cheesy but it was true

your dream come true

you were subtle; no matter how cocky Caitlin had gotten and how she was usually the most dominant one (Cait is definitely a top and the more masc one when she’s put in a wlw relationship…can’t change my mind)

but was your biggest cheerleader and wouldn’t stop gushing about you when you came up in press interviews

she’d find ways to bring you up like

“oh, me and my girlfriend…”

“my girlfriend would’ve thought that was funny…”

“my girlfriend…”

you two were literally meant to be

two big careers matched you both

[7ndipity]

Dating Namjoon headcanons

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, teeny bit of angst

A/N: I realized that I hadn't written anything for Joon in a hot minute, so let's change that, shall we?

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Dating Namjoon feels like one of those early 2000s romance movies.

Utterly frustrating but soo worth it.

He talks a lot of hype in his songs, but I think when he first meets someone he's really into, he's a fucking mess.

Like it's Joon, but it's Joon, you know what I mean?

Red ears, stumbling over his words(and feet), getting flustered every other sentence.

Probably walked into a wall while distracted talking to you.

Don't get me wrong tho, once he gets the butterflies to chill and gets comfortable, the rizz is BACK and in full force.

Big on eye contact

Stares at you with absolute heart eyes(if you've seen that clip of him watching Hobi from Bon Voyage, you know what I'm talking about)

But can flip the switch in the blink of an eye, and be looking at you like he's gonna eat you alive(we love a duality king)

Simp Romantic. Will randomly bring you flowers just cause he was thinking about you(but he's always thinking about you, so why was today any different?)

Writes soo many songs/lyrics about you, but rarely tells you about them directly. He just asks if you wanna hear something he's been working on, and then sits back and watches your faves as you catch the hidden meanings and references. At the end, he's just sitting there, grinning, asking "You like it?"

(Like, yes, I like it you fucking dork!)

Always remember important dates like birthdays and anniversaries( first date, first kiss, everything)

Museum and bookstore dates are a given.

Buying/sharing books with you is probably one his favorite forms of intellectual intimacy, because, for him, each one is a glimpse into your mind.

If you mention one of your favorite titles and he hasn't read it, he's gonna find it asap.

Would try to get you to workout with him and be gym buddies.(I don't know if I like or hate that idea tho?)

Random texts at 1am asking if you're up and wanna hang out?(may or may not be outside your place already, cause he's over-eager and forgot to text earlier)

Endless, late night talks about everything from music to the meaning of life to what jelly bean flavor is superior(it's watermelon)

Also random trips together. Could be to the beach, could be to Sweden, who knows? You bring out his spontaneity and are one of the only people who can get him to take a vacation anyway.

He is a workaholic though, so you have to look out for him sometimes, make sure he eats, sleeps, touches grass, etc.

You probably bicker and butt heads a lot, but y'all make sure it never gets out of hand and try to find a solution.

(Lowkey possessive, but won't admit it)

Not a fan of pda, but he *clings*.

He tries to be subtle about it, but fails because it's like there's a gravitational pull between the two of you from the way he's constantly within arm's reach wherever you are.

Same goes for when you're alone. He's not technically cuddling you, but he always somehow ends up pressed to your side or back, or has a hand on you in some way.

Another member of the 'Protective Squad'. Like, if anyone so much as looks in your direction the wrong way, he's got the death glare locked on them.

Pretty classic when it comes to nicknames for you. Things like 'honey', 'baby', 'jagi'. Adds 'my' in front of any of them when he's in the mood to fluster you.

Which reminds me, he is the BIGGEST FUCKING TEASE ISTG.

He knows exactly what riles you up, and then just gives you these soft, sweet little kisses like you're not about to combust. Has the nerve to then smirk and call you needy(I wanna fight him)

Finds the most random things you do attractive. The way you read. The way you make your coffee. The weird little face you make when your flipping through Netflix.

Although he seems a bit cautious, I actually think a relationship with him might move pretty fast. Like, he's fighting back from asking you to move in with him after five or six months type of fast.

Lives for domesticity with you.

Quiet, sleepy mornings together. Messy hair and glasses over tired eyes, resting against your shoulder as he brings you coffee while you cook breakfast.

I know he said he's not sure abt kids anymore, but I do see him possibly getting a pet with you to 'round out the household'. Something quiet and low maintenance though, like a couple hermit crabs.(would probably name one after a favorite artist/author and then name the other smth random like 'blue')

Again, I don't know how to end these. Just love him, please.

[wondrluv]

♬ what happens in vegas, stays in vegas ; ice bound

➪ summary: when an innocent night of listening to taylor swift's new album quick escalates to cole finding out his best friends' secret

➪ warnings: cole being upset, saying some mean things to trevor, mentions of tbeing depressed and crying and staying in room

➪ word count: 1.8k

➪ emma's notes: did not realize that i was going to have to rewrite almost the whole entire fic when i started doing this but i'm so glad i did. this is one of the favorite things i've written for this au and i just think it's so funny and sweet and yeah

© wondrluv ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

Sitting in the hotel room with Cole, Chloe watched the TV as she waited for the Ducks’ game to finish. Of course, it had to start only an hour or two before her album came out. Yet, with all the rumors and theories flying about, something was happening in two hours, so if it was more music, she would have to only wait at least another hour after that. That she could do. 

Trevor rushed through the door, his suit haphazardly thrown on and wrinkled, bag thrown over his shoulder, clothes spilling out from the broken zipper. His hair was messy and damp from the shower he had taken after the game, and his eyes were wild as he looked around them. 

“I tried to get out sooner, but media is a pain in my ass.” He dropped his to the ground and walked over to where his girlfriend sat on the bed, placing a quick kiss on her forehead, “How’re you doing?”

“Good.” She murmured in reply, gazing up at him with big eyes, tiredness evident in them.

Cole came out of the bathroom, tugging on his shirt to loosen it slightly. When he looked up, he gazed at the proximity of two of his best friends, eyebrow raising slightly, but staying silent, flopping down on the bed opposite Chloe’s. 

“I’m just gonna go change, okay?” He spoke softly, his words more directed at the girl in front of him than his other friend, sidestepping to make his way to the bathroom, digging clothes out from his bag beforehand. 

Cole shot Chloe a look, “What was that?”

She tilted her head, giving him an innocent look, “What was what?”

He rolled his eyes at her casual dismissal, throwing his legs onto the bed and laying back against the pillows, pulling out his phone to scroll through Instagram. On the other hand, Chloe tucked her legs underneath her, sitting criss-cross on the bed, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie down to cover her hands. 

Her hair was tied back into a ponytail, one that looked effortless but in reality she had spent hours this morning perfecting it. She was in one of her favorite light grey sweatsuits, it was one of the comfiest things she owned, plus she looked cute in it so win-win for her. 

It only took a few minutes for Trevor to change, stepping out of the bathroom also adorning light grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt that hugged him tightly. She cast a quick glance at Cole to see him still occupied by whatever was on his phone, looking back at Trevor and letting her eyes travel from his arms down to his thighs, groaning internally. Leave it to Trevor to be attractive at the most unconventional time. 

He took his spot behind Chloe, leaning against the headboard and throwing up his pair of socks, watching them as they fell back down, catching them with ease. When Cole had still yet to notice his presence, he motioned for Chloe to duck so he could throw the socks over at him, the boy jumping and dropping his phone, “Asshole.”

“Alright boys stop fighting. I want to listen to Taylor.” She grabbed her phone and navigated to her music app, turning the volume up as the beginning notes of Fortnight made their way to their ears. 

Throughout them listening to the music, Chloe couldn’t help the thoughts of her and Trevor’s relationship that filtered through her mind. She made a note on her phone, one filled with the lyrics she related to tell Trevor about later when they weren’t accompanied by Cole’s presence. ‘Now I’m down bad crying at the gym’ ‘My bedsheets are ablaze, I’ve screamed his name’ ‘Lights, camera, bitch, smile. Even when you want to die’ 

Soon enough, the album ended on the very last notes of Clara Bow and the three of them held their breath, exchanging wide-eyed glances. Chloe silently moved to look at Instagram, seeing a glaring post from Taylor, reading it out loud, “It’s a 2am surprise: The Tortured Poets Department is a secret DOUBLE album. Oh my god, you have got to be kidding me.”

She wasted no time going back into her music, finding Taylor’s profile, and clicking play on ‘The Anthology’. And much like before, the beginning notes of The Black Dog made their way to their ears and they sat in complete utter silence.

Not even two songs into the album, Trevor and Chloe heard Cole’s snores and they let out soft chuckles. Taking this as her sign, she laid back, placing her head into her boyfriend’s lap and grinning up at him, “Hi.”

“Hi.” He reached down and toyed with the ends of her ponytail, replicating her smile. 

When another snore echoed through their hotel room, Trevor quirked an eyebrow, “Should we wait for him?’

She shook her head, too excited to wait longer to finish the album. So the two continued to sit in silence as Trevor played with hair and she tapped along to the beat with her fingers. And not long after, the two of them each fell asleep, curling into each other as they did so. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

It was 9 in the morning when Cole woke up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and sitting up, throwing the covers off him. His eyes adjusted to the sun that was filtering in through the blinds that he had forgotten to close the night before. 

He shook his head somewhat aggressively, trying to clear the slight layer of sleep that coated his brain. When he was finally able to blink his eyes open enough to see clearly, he stuttered at the sight he was met with. Trevor and Chloe were cuddled up next to each other, Trevor’s shirt was now discarded on the floor having taken it off just before he fell asleep after Chloe. Her hair was splayed across his chest, her ponytail falling sometime during her sleep.

At first, he blinked rapidly trying to comprehend the scene that was happening in front of him, and then he saw a glint of light reflecting from Trevor’s chest. To anyone else, it was a simple thing and could really mean anything. However, he knew that necklace. He knew it like the back of his hand. Every day for years at least, When she saw her, Chloe would be wearing that necklace.

Slowly, the dots started to connect themselves, the summer of ‘21, the summer Chloe rarely came out of her room, the summer Trevor was distant from everyone including Jack, their best friend. Chloe’s album coming out on Trevor’s birthday, the matching heart-shaped necklaces. Chloe was dating his best friend, and Trevor was dating his best friend. What the fuck?

“Holy shit!”

The volume of his words caused Chloe to sit up straight, running her hands through her hair and over her eyes to get herself to wake up and assess the situation. But before she could even think about asking what the danger was, Cole’s voice came out in a whispered hush, “You’re dating Trevor? Trevor’s dating you?”

Her eyes snapped open, wide as ever, like a deer caught in the headlights. Reaching over, she hit her boyfriend in the stomach who groaned and mumbled, “Baby? What?”

She cursed to herself and at her boyfriend’s lack of awareness, hitting him harder, “Trevor wake the fuck up!”

He sat up lazily, a slightly dopey expression covering his face as he looked between his girlfriend and one of his best friends, “Hey guys. What’s going on?”

“Cole knows.”

“Oh good for him.” He threw his shirt on, a minute passing in silence, “What does he know?”

“You’re dating your best friend’s sister?!”

That was all it took for the haze in Trevor’s mind to vanish, a look of horror now on his face, “What? No, of course not. Why would I ever-”

“Give it up, Trev. It’s hopeless.” Chloe groaned, flopping back down on the bed, listening to Cole freak out a few feet away from her.

“What? How? When? … Why?” 

Trevor started to explain to him everything that had happened in the past four years, from the day he asked her out to the day he made the phone call to the day they got back together. All of it fit together in Cole’s mind like a jigsaw puzzle he hadn’t been able to solve in years.

When the last words tumbled out of Trevor’s mouth, Cole swore he never felt such anger. The Summer of 2021 was one of Chloe’s darkest times, one of the times when even Quinn couldn’t get her to smile. He had suffered through those days with her, watching movies on end, listening to her cry, helping her clean her room. He was there through it all. And to have learned that one of the people he was closest to, one of the people he had spent his summer also with, caused that? He was beyond pissed.

“You fucking asshole!”

“Cole calm down man.”

“No you hurt her, do you understand that? She couldn’t even go to the fucking bathroom without crying. I was there and all the while you were just nervous that Jack was going to find out too? Because breaking up with her wouldn’t really hurt you would it?”

Trevor’s eyes widened as he listened to what the other boy was saying, thoughts reeling in his mind as he spoke. He hadn't thought he was going to get this angry about it, sure he knew Cole and Chloe were close but he thought that after he explained what happened between them, it would be okay.

“Cole-”

“No no, shut up. I don’t want to hear another word from your mouth right now.”

“Cole, listen to me. I know that was a hard time for me, okay? And Trevor knows that too, we’ve talked about it. Do you really think I’d be sitting here defending him if we hadn’t talked through everything? If he hadn’t apologized profusely and made it up to me?”

Cole’s eyes wandered over to his best friend who was now standing up next to him, reaching for his hand. He allowed her to take hold of his hand, relaxing immediately at the soft tone of her voice, “We’ve worked it out, I understand where he came from and he understands that he was wrong. And I know he still feels horrible about it.”

He nodded, practically mindlessly as he looked between them, “Okay.” His voice was hushed now once again, “But only if you promise everything is okay now.”

“Everything is okay now, I promise.”

A few minutes passed in silence, everyone going back to where they were sitting before. Chloe spoke up again, hesitantly, “But if you could do us a favor and not tell Jack that would be great.”

“You still haven’t told him?!”

“Well… no. We will eventually… maybe when I go on tour.”

“You kill me sometimes, Chlo.”

She laughed, “Just think of it this way. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

ICE BOUND MASTERLIST ; AU'S

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