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[vminjackbaddie]

A must read

Title: Come Alive (part two) Pairing: Jackson Wang x f reader Summary: Having not heard from Jackson since he pretended to be your boyfriend to ward off unwanted attention, you try to push him out of your mind, that is until you run into him when you least expect it. Genre: Fake dating au / strangers to lovers au / heartbreak / angst / fluff / smut Rating: 15 (Nsfw-smut in future chapters) Warnings: some brief mild "friendly" threatening behaviour / foul language W/C: 2.2k Banner: @nixiecreates creating pure perfection. Beta: @seokgyuu thank you so much for you kind and encouraging words Tag list: @foofarny @kzokssb @galadrielthepsycho @sumzysworld @vminjackbaddie Notes: just a short chapter as I'm easing into the story that will unfold. I'm so excited. Please like, comment, reblog as it really helps!

"Can I get a medium latte and a slice of the lemon sponge, please?” You ask the barista, at the coffee shop around the corner from your apartment.

“Uh, sure, to have in or takeaway?” He responds with a bright smile, seeming slightly over the top.

“Have in, please.” 

He nods enthusiastically, “coming right up, tap when you're ready.” He points to the contactless card machine and rushes off to make your drink. “Swap with me.” He whispers to the other worker at the coffee machine, practically shoving him out of the way. Frowning, bewildered by his behaviour you shrug it off and make your payment before heading to the other end of the counter to wait for your order.

Taking a quick glance at the seating, you are pleased to see there are a few tables you can choose from, much to your relief. You need to get some work done and with your upstairs neighbours having renovations in their apartment, the noise there is almost impossible. So you came to your sanctuary, your favourite coffee shop with not only the best coffee, but most importantly, the best cakes. 

“Here you are.” The barista says with that same wide, slightly manic looking grin, as he hands you the tray. “Call me, anytime.” He whispers, but still loud enough for the people in the queue to hear, resulting in their quiet sniggers. You glance down at your order and see the scrawl of some numbers on your napkin and your face heats, only made worse by the fact you can feel so many eyes on you. Smiling awkwardly, you blurt out, “Sorry, I have a boyfriend,” before taking the tray and making a quick escape to your table by the window. 

Once seated you spin the cup to take a proper look at it.

The name ‘Lyle’ stares at you in bold, messy italics. Groaning to yourself, you turn the cup back back around and set your bag on the seat next to you, pulling out your laptop and hoping that the eyes you could still feel on you were only your imagination. 

You most definitely did not want to call him. Especially since you still haven't forgotten about Jackson. It has been a month since you met him at the club and you've had no text or call from him whatsoever and yet, he has crossed your mind more regularly than you would care to admit.

You shrug the thought away as you load up your work and dig into your cake, relishing the sharp lemon flavour of the sponge combined perfectly with the sweetness of the drizzled icing on top.

“Does this boyfriend have a name?” a voice beside your table startles you, your fork freezing in mid air while your mind races to come up with an answer for the persistent barista.

Glancing up at him, determined to continue your lie, you start, “l-” but stop when you see a familiar face smiling down at you. “Jackson?” you drop your fork and stand up to greet him. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and kisses you lightly on the cheek, lingering a little too long for just a casual greeting. “It’s great to see you, y/n.”

You can’t help smiling up at him, your bodies almost pressed against each other and radiating intense heat between the tiny gap. 

“y/n?” Another voice sounds and a smiling face appears from behind him.

“Do I know you?” you wonder.

“No, no, sorry, I’m Mark, Jackson’s friend, but boy, have I heard a lot about you.” he grins.

Arching a brow you peer up at Jackson and note the faint flush of pink dusting across his cheeks and have to fight the amusement that tugs at your mouth. “Good things, I hope?”

“Oh, yes, very,” is all Mark responds, snapping his mouth shut when Jackson throws him a deathly glare. Biting your lip in an attempt to keep your excitement and amusement at bay and watch as Jackson turns your coffee cup towards him, looking at the numbers written there, “so, is this boyfriend real or did you need a fake one again?” 

The smirk that plays on his lips has your heart pounding against your ribcage, creating a tune just to serenade him with.

“I guess I could have really used your assistance again.” 

He laughs and then his eyes fall serious, seeming unsure of what he wanted to say.

“So still no boyfriend, huh?” Mark interrupts the silence, as he stares very obviously at Jackson.

You shrug, “nope, I seem to have this problem…” tapping your chin thoughtfully, “where guys don't call me.” 

Jackson groans and dips his head into his hands, “I know, I know, I was going to call, but then…” he hesitates, searching for the right words.

“He was being a little bitch about his ex,” Mark interrupts, “but, he's over that now, aren't you?” he scolds and you have to fight the urge to laugh.

“Yes, definitely.” Jackson responds staring intently at you, eyes burning through you and starting a surprisingly intense heat inside you. “I'm sorry, I should have at least sent a text.”

“Hey, if you're not ready, you're not ready, can't help meeting at shitty timing.” you smile graciously, trying to hide your disappointment and hoping you're succeeding.

“I'm ready, now,” he insists, stepping closer to you. “If I haven't blown my chance?”

Your heart hammers so loud in your chest, you can barely hear his words, but the resounding scream inside your head tells you what you've decided. “Why don't you message me and find out?”

He beams at you and nods, “yes, for sure.”

Your cheeks warm slightly and you have to break eye contact, if you want your brain to ever work normally again. Getting lost in his eyes is dangerously easy.

“Miss, are these guys bothering you?” A voice sounds next to you and your eyes drift slowly over following the sound. Who should it be? None other than Lyle, the barista. Thinking he's being a knight in shining armour, when in reality he's disturbing a moment you have hoped for since the night you met Jackson.

You bite your lip, as the awkwardness only continues to grow as you watch Lyle sneer at the two of them, it would almost be laughable if you weren't so disappointed by the interruption. 

Jackson glances slyly at you, a devilish smirk playing across his mouth and as if you can read his mind, you give him a sly wink.

Jackson steps towards him, glancing at the barista's badge, “Lyle, is it?”

He nods in response, suddenly seeming unsure of himself for butting in.

“I really appreciate the concern for my girlfriend, thank you for checking in on her and her well-being,” Jackson's hand lands on Lyle's shoulder, meant as a friendly gesture but you can tell it's also a warning by the firm grips he holds. He picks up your coffee cup and turns it towards Lyle, “and as you can gather, she won't be calling you. No hard feelings, right?”

Lyle shakes his head quickly, cheeks slightly pink and spins on his heels, making his way back behind the counter.

“Thank you.” You fight back a laugh. “you come to my rescue once again.” 

“Always happy to be your fake boyfriend.” he beams at you.

“Or,” Mark chimes in again, “you could just date each other, then you could be her real boyfriend.” He mimes bashing your head's together which would have made you laugh ordinarily but you're hyper focused on Jackson's reaction to that.

He fixes Mark with a hard stare before turning back to you. “I'm sorry, I'm really out of practice with dating.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I'll call you later today and we can arrange a date? I mean, if you'd like to, that is? I don't mean to assume.” His face flushes pink and you can't help but bite your lip from the sight.

“I would love to, but,” you pause just to torture him a little more, “why don't you give me your number this time, in case you chicken out again.”

He gives you a bashful grin before pulling out his phone, typing away and then returning it to his pocket. “Done.”

You feel your cell vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans. “Ok, then.”

Both smiling at eachother like idiots, you're interrupted by Mark once again, “ok, lovebirds, we better get going so we're not late for the game.”

“Game?” You wonder.

“Basketball, a group of us play every week.” Jackson glances down at his watch. “Shit, you're right.” He takes a step towards you, “sorry, I've got to go but I promise I'll call you tonight.”

You nod, excitement blooming like roses in your stomach but a small whisper in the back of your mind does not want to get your hopes up again.

His fingers gently clasp your hand, and pull it up to his mouth, he presses his lips to the back of your knuckles, an action that almost has you swooning but you manage to stay upright.

“Really great to meet you!” Mark calls, as he heads towards the exit, drawing people's eyes in your direction.

Jackson backs away without another word, glancing back at you until he's out the door and out of sight.

You sit down, feeling dazed, your hand feels cold where his lips touched your skin, burning them with the memory of the tender kiss. Opening up your laptop and attempting to focus on today's tasks proves difficult when all you can think about is the hopeful impending conversation you would have with him later.

Pulling out your phone, remembering that he'd messaged you, so you could save his number and you see the text. Your mouth stretches in Cheshire grin before you can stop it seeing his message:

Unknown: can't wait to speak later

Just that simple sentence had you giddy and feeling like a love sick idiot. You also couldn't wait till later. 

*

Signing out at 5pm on the dot, you pack away your work things now you are back home. The renovations were still ongoing, the noise reverberating through your apartment like wildfire, making plans in your head to go out for dinner, until your phone rings, halting all other thoughts.

You see Jackson's name on your screen, scrambling to answer it and taking a deep breath to quell the excitement before you speak.

“Well, this is a nice surprise.” you start, sounding a lot cooler than you feel.

His deep laughter vibrates your ear, sending delicious shivers down your spine. “There's no chickens here today, ma’am.”

You can't help but laugh at his reference to your earlier comment. “I can see that. Nice to hear from you. How was the game?”

Settling on your sofa, pulling you legs up to get cosy, you listen in. 

“Yea, good, my team won, of course.” 

How can his voice sound even more devastating over the phone? Every word drips with velvet.

“There's nothing wrong with your ego, is there?” you tease.

“Not when it comes to things I know I'm good at.”

“And I bet you're good at many things.” the words leave your mouth before you can stop them, hanging in the air thick and heavy, until he speaks.

“I guess you'll just have to stick around and find out.”

You hold in the squeal that's bursting to escape, as more loud bangs and drilling sound around you.

“What on earth is that sound?” He asks.

Letting out a frustrated sigh you explain about your neighbours and your plans to stay out this evening, hoping when you return the noise would have dissipated somewhat.

“If you're free tonight, why don't we have dinner?” He asks, sounding nervous for the first time today.

Biting your lip and grinning you nod frantically, “oh sorry,” you laugh, realising he can't see you, “I was nodding. I would love that.”

“Ok, great, I'll pick you up in half an hour?”

“Perfect.” Holy fuck, you need to get ready fast.

You text him your address and raid your wardrobe, opting for a black dress with flat shoes, something simple but classic so you would fit whatever type of restaurant you go to. Your hair is beyond saving, so you pull it up in a rough bun, which for once turns out great. You neaten the very minimal makeup you have on when your doorbell goes. Your heart hammers wildly in your chest, galloping like a horse that carries you to your front door. Pulling it open, your mind goes blank seeing him standing there all in black. A fitted black t-shirt, with black trousers and shoes, he looked devastating in such a simple ensemble.

“You look…” swallowing and trying to appear calm, “amazing.”

His answering smile almost floors you. “I was thinking the same thing, you look beautiful. And we match.”

Looking down at your outfit you can't help but laugh at the coincidence. 

“Are you ready to go?” He asks.

Nodding, you grab your bag and keys and lock up. His fingers entwine through yours and he searches your eyes for permission, smiling as you give his hand a reassuring squeeze. It feels nice, the simple action of your hands clasped together, natural and comfortable. Your usual first date nerves have evaporated, maybe it's because you've spent time with him already, maybe it's because you know what it's like to kiss him, or maybe he's just a good match for you. Only time will tell.

[vminjackbaddie]

BIBI & JACKSON WANG FEELING LUCKY (2024)

[vminjackbaddie]

Twinning!

when you and your bestie share the same brain cell | for @jiniekook

{ays cr. ouranxingg (moreloveforhobi)}

[vminjackbaddie]

Jackson is addicting

[vminjackbaddie]

Holy hell

📼 Kissing Jungkook

(Why does he looks so much like jungkook tho..?)

Pretty sure this is how Jungkook would kiss you.

[vminjackbaddie]

He has me in the most unhealthiest choke hold.

240819 - amc theaters on their website

[vminjackbaddie]

My boys 💜

jimin and taehyung watching jungkook having fun ♡

[vminjackbaddie]

Exactly how it SHOULD have gone. Like girl should’ve been tryna become aquamarine or shamu, jumping into that water and making her way on to that boat! YES MA’AM! Part of your world type shit!

saw your drabble game. weird request but can you do jackson and the genre be idol with the plot having something to do with that video of him inviting that girl on a yacht with him. do you know what I mean? lol and the prompt be ""The way you taste, the feeling of your lips, you're like a drug to me." you can make it smutty. thank you and congratulations.

Title: Feeling lucky Pairing: Idol Jackson Wang x female reader Summary: Meeting a stranger and being invited to a party was one thing, but what happens when you get invited onto the Jackson Wang’s boat party? Genre: Strangers to lovers / Idol au / Smut /  Rating: 18+ (NSFW) Warnings: Casual sex / protected sex / finger play / breast play / oral (male receiving)  / Swearing W/C: 2.4k Banner: @94ugh who smashed it with this one! Beta: @hobeemin saved the day again! Notes: Thank you so much for this request anon, I hope i did it justice for you. Anyone who enjoys this please re-blog or comment or send me an ask, i'd really appreciate it!

You walk along the seafront, watching the sun slowly beginning its descent, preparing for the beautiful sunset. Sighing as the light dances across your skin, a warm caress you had missed while working so hard as of late. There was music playing from one of the boats up ahead, clearly from a party, judging by the amount of people you could see. You stop and lean over the railing, looking down at the sea below, the waves crashing gently against the wall, inviting you to join them and get swept away.

Someone laughs loudly on the boat beside you, drawing your attention again as they throw their arms around someone in a hug. You lock eyes with a man staring your way, completely oblivious that you are being watched, and his lips tug up into a sweet, sideways smile. Your cheeks flush slightly as you return one to the handsome stranger.

You can't help but think you've seen him before but unable to connect the familiarity. Glancing around to ensure the smile was meant for you, you notice a few people around with their phones out, filming him. He's definitely someone known, and you've definitely seen him.

He bites his lip and looks around the boat, searching for something, before returning to you. His friends around him are talking and oblivious, but he's fixated on you. 

“Hey yo, excuse me,” he calls out.

You glance around, noting a few eyes on you, and point to yourself. He nods and beckons you, waving an arm towards him and calling, “Come on, come aboard.”

You hesitate, feeling self-conscious as people on the boat stare, awaiting your response. The boat already looks ready to leave.

“Is she going to get on Jackson's boat?” You hear a whisper from those around you and instantly connect the dots. Jackson Wang. 

Your feet are moving before you register the action, heading to the gangway that had already been pulled away from the dock.

“Hey, wait, wait, let her on!” He calls out to the people by the entrance.

The boat halts before it gains any traction, and they bring out the walkway once more.

You can feel the slight hesitation making a knot in your belly, but one look at his face is enough to push any doubt away. Intrigue takes over, and you pull yourself on. The walkway wobbles slightly under you, but you move quickly along it and step onto the deck.

“Thank you,” you say quietly to the two men pulling the walkway back. They nod at you and head off down the boat.

“Hey,” Jackson says as he jogs over to you. I'm glad you could make it. I'm Jackson.” He holds out a hand for you to shake, but when you do, he brings your hand to his lips instead, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. The feeling of his warm, soft lips on your skin sends goosebumps down your arm, and you resist the shiver that travels through you. 

“Y/n.” Your reply sounds much more confident than you feel under his burning gaze.

“It's great to meet you. Welcome aboard.” His warm smile settles you as the boat glides slowly away from the marina. 

You look back at the dock, growing in distance, biting your lip, knowing there's no going back now.

“Would you like a drink?” 

You relax a little at the thought. “Yes, please.”

He holds out his arm and you thread yours through it, following his lead to the bar. 

The boat was impressive, and there were people everywhere; he introduced you to some as you walked through, and you smiled and spoke politely, but all you were interested in was him. 

He led you to a stall at the bar, where he sat adjacent to you. People seemed to dissipate and give you some space, which you were thankful for. After ordering your favourite drink, you turned your attention back to him. 

“So, y/n, do you live nearby?” He’s completely focused on you, his eyes never leaving yours as he sips his drink.

Shaking your head, you reply, “I'm on holiday, actually.”

“By yourself?”

When you nod, his brows jump in surprise. “What's that like?” The perplexed stare he gives makes you giggle.

“It takes some getting used to,” you admit, “but I love it. You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. There is no compromising, just living completely selfishly, even if only temporarily.”

Scrubbing his chin pensively, he considers your words.

“I heard this quote once, and ever since, I have said it to myself like a mantra: 'Wherever you go, go with all your heart.’ If there's something I want, I go for it. If there's something I don't want to do, I say no. It's quite empowering, being unapologetically yourself.”

He stares at you, grinning, and you begin to feel a little self-conscious. “What?”

He leans forward, closing some of the distance between you. “That is one of the most honest things I've ever heard. I'm actually a little envious.”

Now, that you didn't expect. “Haven't you ever just given into your desires and pushed everything else on the back burner?” you wonder.

He hesitates briefly before answering, “Not too often, I must admit, but it does intrigue me.”

Smiling, you take a gulp of your drink. Your knee rests against his lightly, and the alcohol heads straight to your core, warming you and making you brave.

“You should try it,” you say, smiling at him over your glass.

“Maybe.” His eyes hold yours, searching, trying to read you. “So answer me this: you came on this boat, why?”

Shrugging, you reply, “I had no plans, and a handsome stranger invited me. What better way to spend my evening?”

You note a slight pink tinge on his cheeks and neck as he tries to hide a smile.

“Why did you invite me?” you shoot back.

His eyes narrow at you momentarily, his gaze still baring into you as if he's found the holy grail. “There's something about you. I can't put my finger on it, but it's something that makes me want to get to know you.”

Laying your hand on the bar, fingertips millimetres away from his, you don't miss the way his eyes flicker to them before returning to your face. 

“Ok, next question,” he continues, “you're on holiday, now on this boat with me; what’s today's desire?”

His question was genuine and mostly innocent, but your initial thoughts were anything but. Downing your drink and sliding the empty glass on the wooden bar back to the bartender, you allow your fingers to skate lightly across Jackson's. “You.”

He sits up straighter, eyes darting from one of yours to the other. When you smirk at him, he realises how serious you are, a sudden heat burning in his gaze. You watch in fascination as his Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows. “I want you to know that that's not why I invited you on here. All that was on my agenda was getting to know each other.” 

You nod, hearing his earnest words and believing them. “I know, and we still can…later. You asked me what I desire, and right now, that’s you.” Standing from your stool, you slot yourself between his legs, “If you want that too, then take me somewhere, private.”

His hands hover over your waist, lightly toying with the material of your sundress as he mulls your offer over. “Wherever you go, go with all your heart,” he whispers, more to himself than you, you think. He leans in so close that his lips tease yours with a ghostly touch before standing abruptly and taking your hand in his. " Come on,” he says, his voice suddenly raspy with desire as he pulls you along the corridors of the boat. 

You can barely think straight from the prospect of his hands on you as you rush to try and keep up with him. He finally stops, pulling out a keycard to unlock the door you stand in front of, and as soon as that door closes, he’s on you. Your back pressed firmly against the wood, one hand leaning against it, boxing you in, and the other on your lower back, pushing you against him. His lips are on you, hard and urgent, exploring your mouth with his. As your tongues dance, your arms wind around his neck, pulling him closer. He uses this opportunity to slide his hands down the back of your thighs and lift them out from under you. Instantly, you clamp them around his waist as he carries you effortlessly across the room and lays you gently on the bed. Your mouths break apart as he sits back on his knees, and his fingers slither up your legs and under your dress. When he reaches your underwear, he pauses, waiting for confirmation, and when you nod, he pulls them off and tosses them aside. He delicately lifts your sundress, and his eyebrows knit together, pained, as he studies your most intimate area. 

“You’re so wet already,” he whispers. Bucking your hips up in desperation for his touch, he finally obliges, sliding his fingers along your folds until he finds that sensitive bud and begins to circle it like a predator before attacking their prey. 

You moan as your back arches with pleasure, your orgasm a teasing figure in the distance. He leans down, his body above yours, so he can kiss you again, brushing his lips down a pathway along your neck. He pulls the neckline of your sundress down, freeing your naked breasts, and his eyebrows pop up in surprise, making you giggle. But your amusement is soon forgotten when his lips encase one of your hard nubs, and he sucks, sending a lightning bolt of pleasure straight to your core. As his tongue caresses your nipples and his fingers continue the relentless ministrations on your swollen clit, you can’t help but writhe under him. He thrusts onto you, his clothed erection rubs against the inside of your thigh, and the thought of him being desperate for you turns you on more than anything. He lifts his head to capture your mouth in a kiss once again, and your teeth find anchorage in his bottom lip. The moan he lets out is so sinful you push him off you and onto his back, needing to please him and needing to hear that sound again. The surprise on his face would make you laugh if you weren’t so intent on making him cry out instead. Focusing on the button on his jeans and pulling them down his legs, he helps you and sends another item of clothes flying. When you free him from his boxers, he bites his lip, his erection popping out and landing with a thud on his belly. You waste no time in grabbing him and closing your mouth around him, moving with a precise pace, tongue swirling as you go and your hand working at the base. 

“Shit, fuck, y/n.” He breathes as he bucks up into your mouth. You swallow him into your throat, and the whine that escapes him makes you feel smug and satisfied with yourself. You’re torn between wanting to tease him until he begs but being so needy yourself and impatient for a release. Your selfishness wins as you pull yourself off of him.

“Condom?” you ask. He leans over to the bedside table, rummaging around in the drawer before pulling out the plastic foil package. He tears it with his teeth and wastes no time sliding it down his length. You straddle him and ease yourself down onto him as he stretches you most deliciously. You give yourself a moment to adjust. 

He sits up, and his lips meet yours in a slow, gentle kiss, completely changing the mood.

Lifting the dress over your head and discarding it, you do the same with his black vest, revelling at the sight of his muscular frame, sliding your hands down his back to appreciate his body while you begin to grind your hips. His hands find anchorage on your buttocks, guiding your movements and keeping them slow. He hits that spot inside you once, twice, three times, and with each time you moan into his mouth.

“You feel so good around me, my god.” He whispers, his words causing you to clench around him, making him jolt. Rotating your hips, the two of you keep a delicious pace in perfect sync. You jolt when his thumb finds your clit, circling with the same speed you were moving. A familiar pull low in your stomach tightens, your orgasm approaching faster than you were ready for. 

“Fuck, I just want you inside me all night.” you sigh, head thrown back as his lips explore your throat; his groan vibrates against your skin and only increases your pleasure.

“The way you taste, the feeling of you on my lips, you're like a drug to me.” he responds, “I can’t get enough of you.”

One of his hands finds your hair, gently grasping a fistful. He pulls your head to kiss him, his lips devouring yours so desperately you could hardly breathe. But who needed to breathe when you were this close to flying off the peak of the mountain?  

Unimaginable heat consumes you as the knot in your stomach grows tight, and your hips move clumsily but desperately as you chase your release. As the volume of your moans increases, so does his as he realises how close you are.

“That’s it, baby, come on, come for me,” he says softly, sending delicious chills down your spine. Those words are your undoing as you unravel helplessly around him, body twitching and core clenching around him, milking him to orgasm. He clings onto your body tightly as his erection pulses inside you, warm seed spilling into the condom. As you both ride out your high and come back down to earth, you collapse onto the bed, side by side, legs still entwined.

“You,” he says between pants, “are incredible.” leaning over, his lips connect to yours once more, this time seeming hesitant for the first time tonight. You pull him down to you, kissing him back slowly but passionately, and when you break away, he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“You mentioned something about wanting me inside you all night?” he arches a brow at you, challenging your statement. “That can absolutely be arranged.”

Biting your bottom lip at the thought, your core clenches around nothing, and your heart goes into overdrive all over again. “I hope so. I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

[vminjackbaddie]

HELP!?

Jackson Wang for Hafrper's Bazaar Malaysia August 2024

[vminjackbaddie]

they're so funny 😭

[vminjackbaddie]

namjoon when he's finally free

[vminjackbaddie]

it's not much of a navigation

BUT this is a newer page and all you really need to know is this: if you want fanfic recs, here is a good place to start! I've started a list of favorites! you're welcome! Bye bye and thanks for visiting my page!

[vminjackbaddie]

I just posted fanfiction and now I'm scared

I didn't add tags bc hell nah...lemme write whatever

[vminjackbaddie]

Feeling Lucky

authors note: eye...haven't written a one shot in such a long time but his recent activity on ig has got me in shambles and I'd like the chance to try again. now forgive me because I've always written in first person but you can still pretend. also im super rusty so im sorry if this comes out cheesy lol I am not an expert for sure! lastly, please don't repost or claim as your own. I appreciate y'all pairing: female reader & jackson wang | 1st person word count: 3.4k+ summary: it's been a lot of trial and error: using dating apps in hopes you find a serious relationship and for the third time, you find yourself disappointed with someone, feeling cursed and very unlucky. to help get your mind off of things, you go visit your best friend at the bar with 0 intentions except to enjoy yourself until jackson walks in with his own group of friends. he's eyeing you, you're eyeing him but will either one of you make a move? or will you let your "cursed" theory ruin any chance with him? genre: mature | strangers to lovers au | angst | one shot | kinda soft | fluff warnings: 21+ ONLY! some cursing, making out, small mentions of heartbreak

“…and that’s exactly why I believe dogs are far superior to cats…”

He kept rambling, spewing nonsense. Is this really my life right now? How am I sitting here, listening to this man go on and on about why dogs are better than cats? Is this supposed to be life-changing information? Definitely not! And just for the record, cats are just as good—if not better.

To make matters worse, I wish I could say this was my first bad date in ages, but that would be a lie. A month ago, I signed up for a dating app, and while things started off strong, the past two weeks have led me to men with halitosis, nonstop misogynistic comments, and now this guy: a man who thinks his monologue is more interesting than asking about me.

Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone and decided to use the old bathroom excuse.

“Excuse me—sorry. Just give me a minute. I’ll be right back,” I said, trying not to trip over my heels as I pushed my chair back, ready to make my escape.

“Take your time! When you get back, we can talk about the ghost in my parents’ basement!” he shouted as I walked away.

I raised an eyebrow, knowing it was now or never. Ghosting isn’t my usual move, but it felt like my only option. Luckily, there was an exit door next to the women’s restroom, and I made a beeline for it. I attempted to call my best friend to fill her in on the disaster, but I reached her voicemail, followed by a quick text:

[Hey, I’m working. You okay?]

Ugh. I completely forgot she was on a shift at Oasis, a local bar. But that might not be a bad idea. I could definitely use some company and a distraction. I hopped into my car and rushed to get inside before he realized I wasn’t coming back, quickly texting her:

[Hiiii~ nvm! I’m coming by. See you soon!]

The message was brief, and as I sat at the first red light, I surprisingly didn’t feel guilty. Isn’t that awful? But honestly, while I felt bad about the first two dates, this third one confirmed that maybe my days with dating apps were over. I felt cursed—searching for real love for so long only to have every potential match turn sour as soon as we met. So tonight (and perhaps for the rest of my life), I decided to focus on enjoying myself.

Oasis wasn’t far. Within five minutes, I was in line to get in. While I waited, I noticed the coffee shop guy had bombarded me with at least eight messages, calling me every name in the book for bailing.

“Wow,” I muttered, scrolling through his barrage of insults.

“Looks like you dodged a bullet,” the bouncer said as I finally reached him.

“What? Oh yeah, he’s definitely a piece of work,” I replied, blocking his number while handing over my ID.

“You came to the right place.” He nodded as he returned my ID. While he recognized me from previous visits, I wasn’t in the mood to chat with another guy about my problems. I simply made my way to the bar.

“Danielle!” I called, spotting my best friend as I slid onto the first empty barstool. The bar wasn’t too crowded, but the dance floor was alive, and it felt great to soak in the energy after those awful messages.

“Another bad date?” she asked, handing me my favorite drink.

“Oh, it was so bad, Danielle! I just don’t know what’s wrong with me!”

“I don’t think it’s you. Sometimes men just suck, and dating app guys are a whole different level of awful,” she chuckled.

“I’m starting to think it might be time to give up.”

She sighed. “You always say that. But remember what I tell you: you’re more likely to find the right one when you’re not stuck playing 40 questions over a screen.”

She patted my hand for reassurance, and I felt a little lighter.

“Don’t beat yourself up—we’ve all been there. Just enjoy your drink.”

I nodded, acknowledging she was right.

“Okay, but no more than three drinks tonight. I don’t want you getting in trouble again for giving away too many free ones.”

We both laughed as I took a sip while she attended to the next guest.

About an hour later, I was on my third drink, and let me tell you, I was feeling it. “Slightly tipsy” was the best way to describe it, and I was really vibing with the music pouring from the speakers. However, I wasn’t much of a dancer. Sitting at the bar, swaying back and forth in my little bubble, felt just right. I could have kept it up all night, but then I heard an uproar from the dance floor.

Curious, I turned to see what all the commotion was about. Right in the center of the crowd was a group of guys dancing like nobody was watching, and they were good. But the one drawing everyone’s attention wasn’t the loudest or most flamboyant; instead, it was the guy making the subtlest moves. His presence alone was magnetic, giving him an air of mystery that was incredibly alluring.

I found myself standing up, inching closer to get a better view. I didn’t want to get too close—just close enough to appreciate his every move. But maybe that was the mistake, because as soon as I got within range, I was completely captivated. He wore all black: a fitted tank top, loose black pants, and sturdy boots. His shaggy hair was a striking lilac or lavender color, cascading over his forehead. It felt wrong, but the thought of getting his attention flickered in my mind. The only problem? I was supposed to be enjoying myself, not fantasizing about some guy.

“Y/N!” Danielle’s voice broke through my thoughts, and I turned to see her waving me over. That was my cue: stay away from him. After all, it was clear why there were at least ninety girls surrounding him—or so it seemed.

What I didn’t realize was that her shout had caught his attention too, because when I looked back just before walking away, we locked eyes.

“Oh god,” I mumbled to myself, quickly diverting my gaze as he flashed me a gentle smile. The only thing I could manage was a quick nod before I hurried back to the bar, eager to escape any further embarrassment.

“What were you doing over there?” Danielle asked as I settled back into my seat.

“Did you not see those guys? They were amazing!” I nearly pointed but caught a glimpse of him and his friends gathering at the other end of the bar.

“Those guys?” she asked, tilting her head in their direction. “Oh yeah, they’re here every Friday, or so.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course.”

For some reason, that realization made him feel completely out of reach. I shouldn’t have even considered approaching him, but the thought lingered. Now, with him just ten feet away, it was impossible not to steal glances as I tried to finish what was left of my drink.

“Need another?” I heard a male voice say.

I looked over to find a glass of Hennessy right beside my hand. My gaze lifted to meet the exact guy from the dance floor, and I was shocked. Why was he talking to me? Where were his friends? Regardless, I needed to play it cool; I didn’t want to come off as desperate.

“No, I’m good,” I replied shortly. “This is my third one, anyway.” I barely made eye contact, taking another sip.

“Is that why you were almost on the dance floor?” he joked.

“Maybe. But how would you know?” I finally turned my body toward him.

He took a small sip of his drink. “I saw you—almost as soon as you walked up. I was waiting for you to join in.”

“I’m sure the other ninety women were more than enough for you,” I retorted.

“Damn. Don’t do that,” he said with a smirk.

“Don’t do what? Point out the obvious?” I chuckled. That’s when I really started to feel the liquid courage kicking in. To be honest, I had a lot of animosity toward men right now, and he was my first target. This could either go really well or extremely badly.

“I’m not just another girl for you to toy with, okay? You think I didn’t see all the smirking and body rolling on that dance floor? Keep it over there.” My finger landed on his chest. “And don’t bring your fuckboy act over here.”

He smirked again, taking another sip before resting his hand over my finger that was still resting on his chest. God, why was he so attractive? I’d said enough, so why couldn’t I just get up and leave?

“Let me be clear…” His voice was low and husky, and I barely noticed he had leaned in closer, making my hand rest against his chest. “If I had any intentions with the other women on that floor, or if I were the fuckboy you think I am, then why am I over here with you?”

His eyes searched mine as if trying to find something beyond the asshole persona I was attempting to project.

“Touche,” I responded, quickly pulling my hand back. I finished off my drink, trying to distract myself from getting lost in his gaze. “What’s your name?”

“Jackson,” he said with a smile, clearly pleased that I wasn’t trying to push him away any further. “And you?”

“Y/N,” I replied shyly, worried I might have ruined the rest of the conversation. Just then, another song played, and the crowd erupted again, making us both break our unannounced staring contest and look at the dance floor. The same guys he had arrived with were back out there, cutting loose. I noticed Jackson subtly mimicking their moves.

“You should join them!” I yelled over the music.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’d rather be dancing with someone else,” he said, slowly bringing his gaze back to me.

I rolled my eyes, smirking a little. “Could you be any more corny?”

“No,” he smirked, grabbing my hand and pulling me closer. We were chest to chest now, locked in each other's gaze. “But I’d like the chance to show you what I can do on the dance floor.”

I glanced back at Danielle, who had been watching the whole exchange. My expression should’ve been a dead giveaway for help, but instead, she winked at me. What the hell? She wasn’t helping at all.

“Come on,” he said, breaking our gaze and taking my hand. He led me to the dance floor. “I don’t expect anything more than for you to just feel the music.” He moonwalked to the center of the dance floor.

How could I possibly keep up with that? I barely had rhythm as it was, but that didn’t stop him from pulling me closer. The liquid courage needed to kick in any minute now because I had never been more nervous than I was at that moment.

He turned me around so that my back pressed against his chest, swaying slowly behind me, guiding my body to move in harmony with his. I felt as if I were in a trance, his hands exploring my waist in a way that was both respectful and undeniably sensual. His nose brushed against my hair, and I could feel my eyes fluttering shut, surrendering to his lead as I let the music envelop me. I placed my hands over his, turning my head slightly to bring his face closer to mine, anticipating the moment our lips might meet. But just then, the tempo of the music shifted, shattering the spell we were under. I smiled as we both paused, realizing that our moment had come to an end.

I turned to face him, and I noticed his friends slowly approaching from behind.

“Alright! We see you!” one of them called out.

“Get lost,” he replied, feigning annoyance, which made them all chuckle.

“Sorry, man! We were just about to grab another drink. You coming?”

He glanced back at me. “Yeah, actually. I’ll be right there.” They nodded and headed off, and he turned back to me.

“You know you don’t have to stick around. I wasn’t exactly nice to you a few minutes ago.”

He shrugged. “I can get drinks with them anytime.” He took my hand again and led me back to my original spot at the bar to order another drink. As we waited, he turned to look at me.

“But what was with all that attitude? Was it really just because of how you viewed me?”

I shook my head. “No... just... bad dates.”

He nodded slowly, as if he understood more than I realized.

“Men ain’t shit,” he started, his tone serious. “And I mean that. I don’t know what you’ve been through, and it’s really none of my business, but can I offer you some advice?”

“Sure,” I replied, still swaying to what we could hear of the music.

“Don’t assume every guy you meet is going to be like the last. I know that’s tough, but calling me a fuck boy was a bit much.” He whined playfully, laughter escaping him. “Though, I have to admit, it was pretty funny.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry... I really shouldn’t have said that—” Just then, my favorite song blared through the speakers. Tinashe’s “Nasty” filled the air, and the energy shifted.

“I LOVE THIS SONG!” I shouted, letting go and fully immersing myself in the music. Whatever liquid courage I had left finally surfaced, and I danced like I’d never danced before. I was so caught up in the moment that I didn’t even notice Danielle bringing him another drink; he simply stood there, a huge smirk on his face, watching me.

“Is somebody gonna match my freak...” I began to sing loudly, draping my arms over his neck and leaning in close, letting my hands glide slowly over his chest.

He watched intently as I continued belting out the lyrics. The way he sipped his Hennessy while keeping his gaze fixed on me made my stomach flip. Somehow, I managed to maintain my composure, still singing and letting my hands roam lower, tracing over his abdomen, which made his breath catch.

“Easy...” he murmured, and I couldn’t help but smirk. I had no idea what was happening, but I was enjoying every moment.

I leaned back into his space, my arm wrapped around his neck as the chorus looped again, the constant refrain of “I’ve been a nasty girl” echoing in my ears. I sang every word, body rolling against him while his free hand trailed down my side and rested at my waist. With his other hand, he finished his drink and set the glass down, then placed his palm at the small of my back.

We were mere inches apart; I could feel his breath against my lips, and it made me freeze as the music began to fade into the background. At that moment, I was intoxicated by his scent, and there was no way I could back down now. I’d been in his face for nearly three minutes, singing about being a nasty girl—what else could I expect?

“You singing all of that makes me want to do a lot more than just dance with you...” he whispered. “But that would be disrespectful on our first meeting.”

Good god. At this point, he could have done anything to me; a man who shows respect is the sexiest thing a girl could ask for.

“Then what can you do that wouldn’t be ‘disrespectful’?”

I knew I was asking for it, but I couldn’t help myself. At this rate, I wanted him to make a move.

He chuckled softly, brushing his nose against mine as our faces inched closer together. One hand cupped my face, while the other rested on my hip. I felt his body draw nearer, moving slightly as the music began to swell again, creating a bubble around just the two of us. I slowly closed my eyes, fully aware of what was about to happen. The build-up was intoxicating. I could have closed the distance myself, but something urged me to savor the moment. He began to turn my body until my back was against a wall, his hands landing on either side of me, brushing his lips against mine. When I opened my eyes, I saw him glancing between my eyes and my mouth, so close I could nearly taste him.

My hands moved to cup his neck as we tilted our heads, our lips nearly meeting once more. He was teasing me mercilessly, and damn, was he good at it.

“May I?” he asked, brushing his nose against mine again. There he went again with that respect.

“Please,” I nearly begged, and he slowly closed the gap between us, finally kissing me after what felt like an eternity of anticipation.

Our lips moved in perfect harmony, just like how we danced. His hands slid from the bar back around my waist, while mine fumbled to find their place. I felt most at ease tangling one hand in his hair while the other rested at his side. The kiss deepened as our tongues battled for dominance, making me want to nibble at his bottom lip to tease him even more. But just like that, it was over. He pulled away, leaving me craving more.

We were both breathless, but it was more than worth it. I even heard Danielle cheering quietly behind me, which made us glance at her and shake our heads in amusement.

“I’m sorry. If I’d kept going—”

I raised a finger to his lips. “It’s fine,” I smiled. “There’s always next time.”

He nodded. “I hope it made your night a little better.”

His smile was enchanting, and I could tell he genuinely meant it, which made me feel incredible.

“Mission accomplished.” I gave him a quick peck. “Now, stay in touch.”

“Wait. You’re leaving?” he frowned.

“No!” I laughed. “Danielle’s my ride home since I’ve had a couple of drinks.”

“Smart. I like it,” he teased, locking his gaze with mine again. “Care to dance once more before the night ends?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to get back to your boys?” I asked, noticing them still on the dance floor.

“Look, those are my best friends. I can dance, drink, and whatever else with them anytime,” he assured me. “They’ll understand if I keep dancing with you. And while this may be our last dance tonight, I hope to see you again, outside of this bar.”

I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks. Who would have thought one bad night would turn into something so lucky?

“Deal,” was all I could think to say before he pulled me back out to the dance floor, where we danced until the sun rose.

[vminjackbaddie]

He’s so real for this lol 😆 I love him

[vminjackbaddie]

Hot hot HOT

[vminjackbaddie]

He’s so 🥰😍

stunner ♡ (original)