#and it brings me more tears than fun. i like to produce products i like being productive but i hate the process and i hate

[waynes-multiverse]

Plastic Hearts – Part 23

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, language, smut, fluff, angst, quiet hurt & a touch of heartbreak

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Oh, you'll hate me again for ending it like this. Have fun, guys 😂

<< 22 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

23. Every Breath You Take

“More?” Dean offers the half-emptied wine bottle and holds it over Y/N’s glass as they sit around the dinner table. The actress throws him a raised look with a little smile playing on her lips.

“Are you trying to get me drunk? You don’t have to. I’m already sleeping here,” she points out in amusement.

“Yeah, but when you’re buzzed, you let me do more shit.” The green-eyed director smirks.

“Ew, Dad!” Claire groans next to him. “I’m right here. This is why I don’t wanna do family dinner with you guys.”

“This was actually a nice idea,” Y/N says with a smile so bright it shows her dimples. “Thanks for cooking tonight. Perfect way to start our last week of filming.”

Dean’s heart stings slightly at her words, but he covers it with a tight smile. The last three weeks passed by rather quickly, and each week, he grew more worried, more nervous, more depressed, and more anxious. This was it. Seven more days before it all imploded. Six more nights before he might not see her again.

He has been wracking his brain, trying to come up with solutions to save the show – to keep her. Cas and Jo are out on fairs, networking with networks and showing their tape to other producers in hopes of getting picked up by someone else, still without any success.

“So, uh, any plans so far? Heard some of the girls are going to auditions, looking for other jobs,” Dean notes and nurses his beer. He doesn’t hold it against them. It’s the business, after all, and everyone’s trying to survive and find their next paycheck.

Y/N bobs her head and sets her wine glass down. “Yeah, actually. I was thinking about taking your advice and going to New York for auditions. I like the idea of doing theater or maybe even a musical.”

Dean forces a supportive smile on his face and hides the heartbreak in his ribcage. “Yeah, you should. You’d be great at it.”

“But, uhm, for now, I’m actually driving to San Diego in a few days for an audition for a musical. I’m not gonna get it, but I figured it’d be fun,” she tells him, and even though she downplays it, Dean can see the excitement sparkling in her eyes.

“Oh, c’mon, why wouldn’t you get it?” he encourages her. He promised himself he’d always be her cheerleader, no matter his own feelings on the subject. He’s trying a new thing these days – it’s called being less selfish.

But God, he hopes she gets it. San Diego is a lot closer to LA than New York.

Y/N snorts into her glass, chuckling. “It’s a Sondheim musical, Dean. I’m not expecting to get it. It’s just good practice.”

“Aiming high, huh?” Dean laughs despondently and takes a big gulp of beer to choke down his tears.

Dammit, Dean thinks. He wishes he could call the dude and tell him what a great woman and actress Y/N is. He’d be lucky to have her in his production. Maybe the director could bribe him to hire her? Would that take things too far?

“How are you gonna get down there?” Dean’s eyes drift to the leg in a cast that rests on a chair next to him.

Y/N gives him a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. Take the bus?”

“I’ll drive you,” he says with a swig of his beer. See? Supportive. He’s really proud of himself, although he wishes he were a lot drunker right now.

“Ooh, uh, Claire, I borrowed two dresses from Alex for you. I put them in your room. You need to pick one for your Winter Formal,” Y/N tells his daughter with a bright smile.

But Claire shakes her head with teenage defiance. “I don’t need a dress. Jack and I are going ironically.”

Dean’s brow furrows in confusion as he blinks at his kid. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Claire rolls her eyes in response and groans. “Ugh, Dad, you’d think for someone who lived through counterculture, you’d understand.” With that, she gets up from the dinner table and takes her empty plate to the kitchen sink.

“I know what she means,” Y/N mumbles nonchalantly.

Dean’s bewildered gaze darts to her. “Really? What?”

Y/N coolly shrugs her shoulders as she sips on her wine before she sighs defeatedly. “Fine, I don’t know. I just wanted to sound cooler than you,” she admits with a cute smile.

Dean snorts a laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“I’m going to bed. Good night! Don’t be too loud!” Claire yells before the door to her room slams shut.

Dean watches Y/N as she leans back in her chair with a blissful sigh and empties her glass. She has pretty much spent every night at his place since the hospital. At this point, the director has gotten so used to it that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if one night she didn’t. Why can’t it stay this way?

He never thought he’d be someone who wants to have family dinners every night.

“Too tired for dessert?” he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows and his signature smirk.

Y/N laughs lightly. “I wish one of these days you’d offer me actual dessert,” she quips.

“Like what? Chocolate cake? Pie? I’d actually love some pie. Maybe we should get one for tomorrow night,” Dean muses, chuckling.

Y/N grins mischievously at him and leans her elbows on the dinner table, resting her chin in her palms. “Maybe you can eat pie off of me.”

Dean curls his lips, his cheeks blushing at the idea alone. His dick seems to like it, too. “God, I love… your brain,” he quickly corrects his course before the wrong words slip out.

And it’s not like it isn’t true. While Y/N hasn’t been able to act and tumble around the ring, she’s been coming up with storylines and basically coordinated matches for the past three episodes. She’s also constantly by his side and mans the booth with him. If Dean didn’t sleep with her and like her, he’d actually be scared she’s coming for his job. She’s pretty much directing at this point, and he just lets her because, well, did he actually ever care?

But his declaration is only a small part of the truth, the full truth being that he loves more than just her damn brain and has for a long while. He’s been trying to say the words for weeks now, started and stopped a hundred times, and tried to pack his feelings into a coherent sentence that honestly shouldn’t be more than three words long.

However, those are some big three words. Monstrous for Y/N. And deep down, Dean knows she might feel like he does, too, but can’t admit it and doesn’t know what the hell to do with it. To her, this little arrangement between them is nothing more than friends who fuck. Only Dean’s aware that they’re actually in a deeply serious relationship, which is maddeningly ridiculous.

But hey, if he keeps his mouth shut, they might make it another five years like this without Y/N running away, so that’s something.

Dean then rises from his seat and offers his hands to Y/N. Her leg is still in a cast, so she has been wobbling around on crutches or hopping clumsily across a room. It’s pretty darn cute.

“Thank you,” Y/N says gratefully as Dean helps her up and slings her arm around his neck before he fully hoists her into his arms. She giggles as he carries her into the bedroom. “You don’t have to do this every night, you know. I can walk just fine.”

“Says you, but truth is, you’ve never seen yourself walk on these things. It’s pathetic,” he teases her and plops her carefully down on the bed.

He flings off his shirt and removes his jeans and underwear as Y/N unbuttons her blouse. The mattress dips as he climbs into the bed and helps her discard her pants. It’s routine at this point, but Dean has really started to cherish the stability. Every morning when he wakes up and smiles at her, he loves knowing that he’ll fall asleep right next to her at night all over again.

Gently, he spreads her legs and slots between them. His lips find hers in the moonlit dark and kiss her with deep affection and burning love, always pouring his whole heart into each kiss and hoping one of these days it’ll stick.

Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he rolls it over his throbbing length and positions his dickhead at her entrance, slipping into her tight channel till she’s full of him. Her lips part as the same little gasp escapes her that he hears every time he enters her. He loves hearing that noise almost as much as he loves to hear the big one when she comes and the medium ones in-between.

Sometimes, Dean makes her come before, but on nights like these, when she’s already had half a bottle of wine, he rather works quick. While wine makes her louder and more daring, it also renders her quite sleepy.

“Fuck,” she sighs and closes her eyes with a euphoric smile, her pussy gripping his cock tight as she clenches around him. “You’re always so good at that.”

Dean smiles amusedly. Wine makes her chatty, too. “I haven’t even done anything yet, sweetheart,” he remarks.

“Well, I guess I just-… I just love your cock,” she says bluntly and grins up at him. “And those lips.”

See? Wine.

“These ones?” Dean asks teasingly and leans down, pulling one of her nipples between them till she squirms.

“Uh-huh, yes…” she moans softly and cards her hands through his hair, causing a groan to pass his lips. “And that tongue.”

“This one?” Dean lets his tongue roll over that same nipple till it peaks, feeling her arch her back underneath him.

“Yes, and God, those hands and fingers…” she almost whines.

“Those two?” Dean snakes a hand between their bodies, two of his fingers finding her clit and drawing tickling circles.

There’s no more strength left for words. She bites harshly down on her bottom lip and nods vividly. Her cunt clutches him tightly, eliciting a giddy chuckle from him. He loves making her squirm.

Three more squeezes, and he knows he has to move before she grows impatient. He knows her well by now, knows every little detail about her, and loves that he does. They haven’t even been able to do half the things he wants to do to her due to her current injury and inability to move (or bend) as freely.

And yet, he’s still not fucking bored, not in the slightest. He keeps waiting for it, but it never comes.

On the contrary, he appreciates the feeling of knowing someone so deeply and intimately as he knows Y/N. She has become a part of his soul, and he doesn’t know if he could ever cut her out without severely hurting himself. He’s not sure if he could survive a wound this deep.

“Dean, please…”

That was the fourth – like clockwork.

Dean manages to thrust twice before loud punk rock music shakes the walls and drowns out every noise in the entire house. Hell, the whole neighborhood can probably hear it.

Frustrated, his head drops momentarily to Y/N’s shoulder as the actress snorts a giggle. He can feel her body and cunt trembling around him, but not for the reason it should.

“Claire!” Dean shouts angrily. “Turn that fucking music down! Y/N’s trying to sleep!”

“No, she’s not!” his kid yells back through the wall and the unbearable music. “I know you guys are having sex! I don’t wanna hear anything!”

“We’re not having sex,” Dean barks and watches as Y/N gapes at him in sheer playfulness.

“Wow, you lie like that to your kid?” she teases him.

“What d’you want me to say? ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m inside of her now’?” Dean retorts wryly, making Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter as she snorts into his shoulder. “Can you please stop laughing while I’m trying to fuck you? My soldier’s already retreating.”

But Y/N only laughs harder at that, tears streaming down her cheeks as Dean’s lips purse with a sigh through his nose. She then exhales a deep, long breath, trying to calm herself. He’s seen her do this very move a hundred times during an acting scene.

She clears her throat and tries to force a more serious look onto her features. “How about a little Russian motivation?” she says in her infamous accent and smiles when his cock twitches in agreement. “Maybe some oral manipulation, yes?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Dean grins and leans down to capture her lips. “God, I love yo… your pussy,” he quickly corrects himself once more. That was a close one.

Alright, don’t look at him like that and don’t judge him. He’s trying. He really is.

But Jesus fucking Christ, he loves living these days. Who knew his forties would be the best time of his life?

With a big yawn, Y/N rubs her eyes and stretches her arms over her head. The shower in the main bathroom is running with Dean already in it. She grabs her crutches and hops to the window, opening the blinds to let some sunlight in.

She takes a deep breath and enjoys the morning silence for a moment, her gaze drifting out the quiet neighborhood. It has never been this peaceful in the motel. The last three weeks, she has really appreciated waking up in Dean’s bed. She knows she’s probably overstaying her welcome at this point, but he hasn’t kicked her to the curb yet, so she hasn’t been in a hurry to return to the motel, either.

He was right – the memory foam mattress is fucking heaven, especially with a broken ankle.

All in all, she imagined being benched for the show would be a lot worse than it is. Dean’s done a great job of incorporating her anywhere outside of the ring. She’s helping with storylines, training, directing, producing – really anything that could use a few tweaks. The green-eyed director is unfashionably nice to her. Maybe it’s the sex or their friendship or a combination of both. Either way, she’s grateful for him.

However, there’s this tiny voice inside her head that keeps telling her there’s a reason why Dean’s been so nice, and it’s not just the sex. It’s certain kisses and touches and looks – especially the looks – that make her believe there’s something lying underneath the surface. An iceberg so gigantic it could sink the Titanic. Whenever she catches his clandestine gazes from her periphery, there’s this inexplicable feeling that creeps through her veins.

Her peace is disturbed when excessive knocking and an uninterrupted ringing of the doorbell draw her attention to the front door. A part of her expects to find her best friend behind it. Only Jo could be this ruthless and obnoxious.

Y/N hurries to the door as fast as she can, which isn’t fast at all, considering she’s on crutches. Everything is just awkward and slow these days, but she’s been practicing moving around in hopes of joining the show again for the final episode. Billie and Donna have been helping her, too.

But as Y/N opens the door, she’s not greeted by the familiar blonde but by a brunette stranger instead. The only similarity the woman shares with Jo is that she’s incredibly hot and angry, too.

“Can I help you?” Y/N asks with a look of bewilderment, although she shouldn’t be surprised to find a mad woman on Dean’s doorstep.

“I’m Lisa Braeden. I’m looking for my daughter,” the woman says, somewhat impatiently.

Oh.

“Uh…”

Y/N stumps for a moment, eyeing the woman in front of her closely. So, this is Claire’s mother. Dean’s ex. She tries not to feel insecure around her, but it’s hard, considering the woman is a bombshell with perfect curves and flawless features. And if she looks like that now, Y/N wonders what she must’ve looked like seventeen years ago.

The actress suddenly feels very exposed in only the director’s flannel. Truthfully, she looks like she just crawled out of a gutter. Maybe it’s the fact she has just woken up and is sporting major bed-head, but Lisa probably thinks Dean took in a homeless person. The cast and crutches don’t help, either. And then, Y/N wonders why a part of her cares at all what the brunette thinks and reminds herself it’s not a competition.

“Dean? Dean!”

Her voice carries a certain amount of panic that’s probably uncalled for. Yet, it helps. The shower turns off, and not a minute later, Dean stands next to her with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his broad chest still glistening with droplets of water.

He does know how to make an entrance.

Dean’s brow is deeply creased when he takes in the woman at the door, lacking a sense of recognition, however. “What the fuck is all that noise?”

“I’m the fucking noise,” Lisa replies dryly. “I’m here for my kid.”

“Oh…” Dean stumps as well. Then, he swallows thickly and gives her a nervous smile. “Hi, uhm, I’m Dean Winchester.”

“I know who you fucking are, you moron,” Lisa huffs, shaking her head. “You got me pregnant. Where’s Claire?” When neither Dean nor Y/N answer, Lisa rolls her eyes and waltzes past the two inside the house. “Claire!”

“Sure, come on in,” Dean mutters under his breath and shares a wide-eyed look with Y/N, hoping for some guidance.

The actress eyes him up and down, pensively licking her lips. “Maybe you should get dressed.”

With some pants and a shirt on, Dean and Y/N have retreated to the kitchen and sip quietly on their cups of coffee while Lisa and Claire scream at each other. It’s a classic mother and teenage daughter battle. Claire fights for freedom, while Lisa fights for control.

“I had sex with that woman seventeen years ago. Now she’s in my house, yelling at my kid,” the director voices his thoughts out loud, a hint of trepidation shimmering in his green eyes.

“Yup, life has a way of catching up with you. Kinda learned that this year,” Y/N notes with pursed lips and sends him a smile. “But hey, they’re your family now. Kinda nice, right?”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Dean huffs with a bitter look and watches Y/N place her mug in the sink.

“I should probably go. Leave you guys to figure this out,” Y/N announces, one hop on a healthy foot away from walking out the door. “I’ll call a cab.”

“No, don’t! You can’t leave me here alone with them,” Dean pleads, the sheer panic and desperation visible in his eyes and audible in his voice. His gaze bores into her. “C’mon, I need you. This is one of those, you know, friendship moments. Like abortions and getting over coke addictions.”

Y/N lets out a small sigh. How could she leave him after everything he’s done for her? She basically has no choice but to stay and help him through this. “What d’you want me to do? Mediate?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dean shrugs helplessly. “I just know I’m gonna say all the wrong shit at the wrong time. Please. I don’t wanna lose my kid. Help me.”

As she catches his gaze, there’s that inexplicable feeling creeping through her veins again. This time, it even tugs on her heart.

“Okay, uhm, alright. I’ll stay,” she promises him, offering him a small smile of comfort.

Unbeknownst to her, though, Dean comes close to saying the three ominous words once more. It’s getting harder every day to keep them inside. How long does he have until he bursts? He feels like a ticking time bomb.

“Maybe we should all sit down and talk?” Y/N suggests as soon as Claire has stormed into her room and slammed the door in upset.

“About what?” Lisa barks, half-annoyed as she rests her hands on her squared-off hips. “She’s been lying to me for months.”

“Okay, in my defense, she told me you were crazy,” Dean explains with an innocent shrug.

“I don’t care if she told you I beat her and locked her into the basement. If a kid has run away from home, you call their mother,” Lisa retorts furiously.

Dean purses his lips in defeat for a moment, especially when Y/N seems to agree. She’s kind of his moral compass, but he’s not ready to accept his loss yet. “Well, you didn’t call me to tell me you were having a kid. My kid,” he argues and knows it’ll probably backfire. He can tell by Y/N’s frown.

“Oh, excuse me for not calling the guy who didn’t stay for breakfast,” Lisa counters with an eye roll.

Dean’s brow furrows, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s what happened.” Granted, he’s been high for two decades now.

“I asked if you wanted pancakes. You said, ‘No, thanks, but that was fun.’ And then you got into your car and bolted, never to be seen again,” Lisa recalls, frowning.

“Uhm, that sounds like it was a long time ago,” Y/N interjects in his defense, chuckling nervously. “He’s a different and more mature person now.”

Dean’s heart swells to twice its size. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about him. Although, he can tell she only said it to win Lisa over. She’s a good actress, making even him believe her words. But she’s helping him, so it’s the thought that counts.

“Thanks for the input. Who are you again? Are you his fucking maid?” Lisa arches a brow at her, eyeing her up and down.

“No, she’s not my maid,” Dean replies fiercely but then doesn’t know what else to say. Girlfriend? Lover? Friend? Nothing sounds right. “She’s my, uhm, she’s my actress. She’s my… You know, she’s… She’s Y/N.”

At that, Y/N’s brow draws together in the middle with a tilt of her head. Dean surmises that answer probably sounded even weirder.

“Yeah, I can see you’ve changed so much.” Lisa scoffs sarcastically and folds her arms over her chest, her patience running low.

Y/N subtly clears her throat, deciding to step in. God knows the director needs all the help he can get. “Okay, uhm, it doesn’t really matter who I am,” she says and shares a look with Dean, who anxiously chews his bottom lip raw. “What matters is that Dean has really connected with Claire over the last few months. He’s enrolled her in high school, she has joined AV club, she’s got a really nice and sweet boyfriend.” Dean grimaces at that last part, but Y/N skillfully ignores it and continues, “They’re going to Winter Formal tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m chaperoning,” Dean announces proudly. “This dance is very meaningful to her.”

Lisa snorts a laugh, clearly amused. “My kid does not go to dances.”

“Yes, I do!” Claire suddenly stands in the middle of the living room with the brightest smile. It’s freaky, really. She gleefully holds up the two dresses Y/N brought over last night, feigning her excitement. “Which one should I wear?”

Lisa and Dean disagree on the dress choice, but when Y/N sides with Lisa, Claire takes the hint and quickly disappears back into her room.

“It’s just one night, and it will give you two some time to catch up. Figure this out,” Y/N advocates suggestively.

“Yeah, what she said,” Dean agrees and clears his dry throat, wishing he had a bottle of booze in his hand to calm his nerves. Man, in stressful situations like these, he does miss coke sometimes. But fucking Y/N has been a great substitute, so maybe he’ll just do that as soon as that crazy woman leaves his house again. “Look, I get that you’re angry. But I’m really trying here, okay? She’s doing great at school, I gave her a curfew… I wanna make up for lost time,” he explains sincerely. Y/N sends him a proud smile.

“Fine, one night, but tomorrow we’re leaving,” Lisa relents with a sigh. “I’m not gonna indulge this fucking father-daughter fantasy,” she huffs and then finally storms out of the house.

Y/N exhales a long sigh of relief. “Well, that went better than expected.”

“You think?” Dean checks insecurely. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Y/N hadn’t been here to support him. “You’re coming tonight, right?”

Surprised by the request, Y/N’s brow meets her hairline. “You want me to go to your daughter’s Winter Formal with you?”

“Yes, obviously,” Dean states matter-of-factly and blinks at her. “You can’t leave me alone with that woman.”

Y/N heaves another sigh as she looks at him. “Okay, fine,” she surrenders.

Sitting on the bleachers of a fully decorated gym, Y/N realizes she has kind of missed high school. At least, everything used to be much simpler back then. Your crush would ask you to go steady, you’d say yes or no, and then you’d be broken up shortly after prom.

Adulthood is complicated. People are complicated. And love is goddamn unfathomably complicated.

“It’s so weird seeing her with her first high school boyfriend,” Lisa notes with a small sigh next to her. “I still remember her drawing with crayons. Now, she’s running miles away, lying, and making out with a boy.”

“Yeah, teenage romance is a lot more intense,” Y/N says, chuckling softly.

“She won’t wear a dress to my wedding. Refused to. Screamed bloody murder,” Lisa says thoughtfully. “But after spending a few months with her estranged father, she suddenly puts one on.”

“People are complicated,” Y/N reiterates her earlier sentiment.

Claire is complicated. Dean is complicated. And Y/N? She might be the most complicated of all.

“My fiancé is not,” Lisa says, a delicate smile playing across her lips. It’s enough to show her happiness. “I always used to date these guys that would run so hot and then completely cold the next minute. I never knew where I stood. It was exhausting.”

“Yeah, I get it…”

Y/N’s eyes drift to Dean as he chats with one of the other dads by the buffet. She doesn’t know what the director wants from her. She doesn’t know what their relationship even is. One minute, it feels epic, like a love so legendary it should only exist on the silver screen. And the next minute, it feels trivial, like it should’ve never existed at all.

But Dean’s not the problem. Deep down, she knows what that creeping feeling in the pits of her stomach is. And she knows she’s not ready for it. Truth is, Y/N has no idea what she wants and feels lost. Because if she admits one thing, it’d mean the end of another. If she stays in LA for a guy, what would that mean for her career? She doesn’t want to end up like Jo. She’s finally about to have it all, only to realize both at the same time are a mere dream.

And worst of all, even if she did know what she wanted, she’s doesn’t know if she deserves it.

“So, what d’you do, son?” an older man next to Dean asks. He’s already balding and gray, as is the scruffy beard he’s sporting. His suit jacket with a name tag that reads “Chaperone” looks a little worn and sleazy, too. The director figured he’d be one of the oldest dads here, so this guy comes as a pleasant surprise.

“I’m a director of a women’s wrestling show,” Dean replies and takes a sip from the fruit punch. None of the kids have spiked it yet, which is quite the disappointment. What’s happening to today’s youth, huh? “And you?”

“Oh, nice.” The man nods with a smile and pulls out a business card from his suit jacket, handing it to Dean. “Bobby Singer. I own a small chain of strip clubs, although my wife Ellen would probably like me to tell you I’m a small business owner.”

“Got it.” Dean chuckles and glances at the card in his hands. “Bobby’s Body Shop. Oh, hey, I know this one! ‘Where the girls are hotter than the asphalt,’” he quotes the club’s tagline proudly, grinning. “I’m there all the time! Actually got one of your girls in my show.”

Bobby chuckles. “Well, next time you’re there, ask for me. I’ll get you a discount.”

“Thanks.” Dean smirks. And Cas claims you can only network on the fucking golf course. “Oh, hey, you should catch one of our shows. It’s our last one this week. It’s pretty badass. We’re over at the old gym in Watts.”

“Alright, I’ll see you there,” Bobby says with a smile.

Dean’s eyes then drift to Y/N on the bleachers. Last time he checked on her, she was still chatting with Lisa, but the brunette has since left. And as he glances at her now, Y/N has found herself encircled by a group of horny teenage boys, causing his brows to draw together and meet in the middle. They’re like fucking vultures.

“Shoo!” Dean barks sternly at the young men as he approaches the group and watches them scurry away with their tails tugged between their scrawny legs.

With an amused smile, Y/N arches an eyebrow at him. “Glad you’ve decided to join me. It was getting crowded. I’ve turned down about twenty offers to dance.”

“Look at you, you little heartbreaking cougar,” Dean retorts with a teasing smile. “You’re gonna turn me down, too?”

“I have a broken ankle. Did you forget that part? I can’t dance,” Y/N replies.

“Oh, c’mon, that never stopped you before. ‘Sides, I’ve got two working legs and can’t dance, either. So, what d’you say, huh?” Dean holds out his hands for her to grasp.

“Fine,” Y/N relents and grabs his hands, hopping to her feet. “Let’s do some awkward swaying.”

“That’s the spirit.” Dean laughs and rests his palms on her hips, helping her stand as she locks her arms around his neck.

“Is that what you had in mind?” Y/N asks teasingly as she looks up and meets his gaze.

“Kinda.” Dean dips his head and catches her lips, deepening the kiss with his tongue slipping inside her mouth.

“Dean,” she scolds him softly with blushed cheeks and a giggle that surely won’t keep him from doing shit. “There’s people here. Teenagers.”

“So? It’s nothing they wouldn’t do,” Dean remarks mischievously. “And no one’s here that we know. Claire’s caught us like a million times already, and Lisa doesn’t care. C’mon, we never get to do those things in public,” he appeals with a wiggle of his brows.

“Alright,” Y/N surrenders with a small sigh and a smile, tiptoeing up on one foot to press her soft lips back on his. She feels him breath into the kiss, cherishing every second of it. His hands wander from her hips to cup her cheeks, causing her to almost topple over as he forgets that he’s been steadying her. “Whoa, Dean!”

Her giggle interrupts the kiss as she tightens her grip around his neck before he moves his hands back to their place on her hips, offering her support again. She leans her head against his chest, and he rests his chin on her crown.

“Sorry, got carried away there for a moment,” he apologizes with a snicker, pecking the top of her head gently.

“Yeah, that happens with you sometimes,” she teases and buries her head deeper into his shirt. “Your heart’s beating really fast. Are you on something again?”

Dean wants to say it’s love, but that sounds too fucking cheesy.

“Nope, still clean,” he replies instead and doesn’t take offense in her question. “Just nerves, I guess. There’s something I wanna tell you,” he says and licks his lips, swallowing thickly.

Y/N looks up and finds his green eyes, her brow knitting in curiosity. But there’s a perceptive shimmer in her orbs, and Dean knows she can already anticipate what’s coming next. Judging by her shift in weight, he can tell she doesn’t want him to say it out loud.

“Shit, uhm…” She squeezes her eyes shut and fumbles for an excuse. Dean gives her a plethora of time to find a believable one. “I have to go. I promised the girls we’d work out a plot for the finale together tonight, celebrate our last week.”

Dean’s lips quiver but manage to find a smile. “You sure?”

Reluctantly, Y/N still nods and lets out a tense breath. “Yeah.”

It feels like dancing around a big, pink elephant between them. Both of them pretend it’s invisible, although it’s painfully not. It’s even roaring or hooting or whatever the fuck elephants do.

“Alright, I’ll drive you to the motel,” Dean capitulates with a resigned nod.

“No, uh, stay,” she tells him and clumsily hops back to the bleachers to grab her crutches. “I’ll get a cab. You should spend your night with Claire. Figure things out with Lisa.”

“Okay,” Dean caves once more but then grabs hold of her, pulling her to his lips. The kiss is fervent and heated and desperate. So fucking desperate. “One for the road,” he says with a painful smile as he draws back. He doesn’t want to admit that it might be the last one they have shared.

Y/N’s look tells him she feels the finality, too. It’s the epilogue of the best book he’s ever read. The end credits of his favorite movie. The final episode of a show he loved.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly with a hesitant lip bite and a harrowing swallow.

“Don’t be. Have fun, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dean says and sends her one last weak smile before he watches her walk away with an aching heart.

24. Don't Dream It's Over – May 4

Honestly, even my cold, cold heart weeped at the end there. Poor Dean 😢💔 But as you can guess from next week's title, we're not done yet 😉

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus

Everything Dean: @SnowAyumi

#plastic hearts #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester imagine #director!dean winchester #director!dean winchester x actress!reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #jensen ackles #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles characters #dean winchester au #supernatural au #glow au #dean winchester reader insert

[featherymainffins]

Me showing DSAF to an acquaintance who has only heard of it like: "You will get depression due to this later. Anyway this is my primordial pet freak, he has killed hundreds of people and will kill again and I think he should be locked in a controlled environment forever. Oh no not for his crimes. It's because I want to study him like a bug forever. Perhaps break his bones one by one... Anyway when I draw him drawing is actually fun and doesn't feel like a stressful performance."

#its so funny i just cant be normal. normal people have like #normal characters that they consider characters that bring them joy. i always pull out the most rancid fucker and go #'this is my emotional support piece of shit and when i draw him i rediscover what hobbies are' #(because i actually do not have hobbies in the traditional sense) #(as in activities like drawing or writing are actually not fun for me at all #i do them because im fairly good at them and because it's a habit; like doing your homework. but i hate them. it's a stressful thing #and it brings me more tears than fun. i like to produce products i like being productive but i hate the process and i hate #how i can make a mistake and i feel judged the whole time. i feel like that during playing instruments and during sewing amd #i felt that way during horse riding and i feel that way no matter what i do. constantly judged and evaluated and like #my performance has to be flawless and every tiny mistake justified. like my life is a constant process of justifying my actions in #front of a court and a judge and a jury.) #(but when i draw some specific characters I don't feel that way. i feel like this weird feeling that i think might be joy? i don't feel #stressed out at all and seem to forget that i am being evaluated #i forget that i have to constantly earn my life. j don't stop every few lines to get a breather to calm myself down and assure myself #that i can do this flawlessly. i just...draw and if it's less than perfect i just correct the mistakes. but I don't feel pressured or judged #i find myself smiling and it's weird. because i never feel like smiling when im drawing or writing or anything.)

[skzpixiekaifei]

Pixie and her relationships with the guys

I.E, what makes her relationships with the men memorable

Taglist: @mynameisnotlaura, @palindrome969

Chanxie (Chan x Kai) - Mother and Father duo 

Popularity: 9/10 

Labeled as the mother and father of the group, the two are extremely close. When the two of them are paired up together, they take on caretaking roles. She makes sure Chan is eating and drinking properly, going as far as to hiding his laptop when he gets too workaholic. This led to many fights in their early years, but now when he starts overworking himself, all she needs to do is give him a look and he then takes a break. 

He introduced her to production pre-debut days. She is the only one in the group to be one of the producers that is not a part of 3racha 

He helped her discover her love of cooking, particularly Australian foods. 

When he starts getting homesick, she overnight ships ingredients to make homemade pizza or sashimi 

He makes sure she’s in bed at a reasonable time 

She is a shoulder to cry on for him and vice versa 

Minai (Minho x Kai) - Mother and daughter 

Popularity: 8/10 

When Chan is the father, kind to Kai, Minho is the tough love. Sure, he makes sure she’s okay first if she gets hurt, but when he knows she’s okay, he roasts the hell out of her. The two have an... interesting relationship. The two could be having skin ship one second, and then wrestling the next.  

Ex. “Have you eaten yet? Did you get hurt?” “Yes, Min. No, Min.” “You’re going to be” proceeds to chase her around the kitchen, going for her sides to tickle her. 

Teases her about her height (How’s the breeze down there?) 

She was the first one to eat lunch with him at the company 

She comforted him when he got eliminated. (“So what if you got eliminated? You have a friend in me now. I refuse to leave you behind; you are my family now”) 

Gets genuinely upset when he self-deprecates. He had to stop in front of her when she started crying 

Cooking duo 

Binxie (Changbin x Kai) - The lovebirds 

Popularity: 9.5/10 

The loudest two in the group become the quietest when the two are paired together. I mean it. Changbin can go from yelling in one second but when Kai is touching him? Sedated. They are each other's rocks, and they are never not touching each other when together. And they are always together. 

Started calling her princess during the survival show 

Always gropes his ass or tits (It's not in a sexual way, it genuinely gives her comfort) 

Each other’s biggest cheerleaders 

They always give each other praise and compliments 

Whenever she starts crying on camera (Because let's face it, she’s very emotional), he cups her face and wipes the tears away himself. There is a five-minute compilation of him doing this on YouTube of just 2023 alone 

Gym duo (They always go together. It's scary to see how much she gained muscle when she went with him) 

Jinx (Hyunjin x Kai) - Sibling duo 

Popularity: 6/10 

The two are extremely close due to their dramatic flair. It seems like she is more dramatic than Hyunjin in some instances. She is like his big sister even though he’s older. They physically fight (Playfully, it’s all-in good fun), and she says he in her sleep paralysis demon at times. 

Was the first person she came out to 

She is helping him learn Mandarin 

Gave each other black eyes once. The makeup artists had a field day with that one 

Once, she hurt her ankle on stage by twisting it early in the performance. Hyunjin put her on his back and proceeded to finish the concert with her on his back. 

Hanai (Jisung x Kai) - The loud introverts 

Popularity: 6/10 

What happens when you put Kai and Han in the same room? Opposite to Changbin and Kai. Loudest mfs EVER. They were forced to sit in different cars because they would scream like mfing seagulls. I mean it. 

Helps Han with his anxiety 

He helps her practice her rap 

She fuels his americano addiction 

Yonxie (Felix x Kai) - Baking duo 

Popularity: 4/10 

Kai and Felix together can only bring chaos. The two have been in a prank war for roughly five years. She always compliments him, to follow up with a slew of dance battles. She and him do so many tik tok challenges together, that her public tik tok is filled with dances from the two. 

Tease each other on each other's accents 

Cuddles everywhere 

He is teaching her self-defense 

She helped him come up with his brownie recipe 

He is the testing dummy for all new baking creations. 

Seungmai (Seungmin x Kai) - Puppy duo 

Popularity: 7/10 

Savages. They roast the hell out of each other. She tries to compliment him, and you know what he does? Call her a pervert. She proceeds to manhandle him, due to her being very strong, despite her small stature.  

Laughs at him at every chance she gets 

While Seungmin is the more hyperactive puppy, she is the sleepy kind 

Has a collection of images on his phone of her asleep in places she isn’t supposed to be in 

Jeongai (Jeongin x Kai) - Platonic soulmates 

Popularity: 8/10 

Since the two are the Maknaes of the group, they are extremely close. They are attached to the hip. If Kai isn’t with Changbin, she’s with I.N. He is the person to realize her love for singing more than dance.  

The two always are seen asleep together. Where I.N goes, she goes 

Was the first person to know of her mental problems 

Extremely protective over her, more so than the other members 

The only person he allows excessive amounts of skin ship from 

They both go drinking together 

#skz #bang chan #changbin #writing #han jisung #hyunjin #lee know #skz imagines #jeongin #lee felix #skzkaifei #seungmin #stray kids #skz 9th member #skz female member #skz female addition #skz female oc #skz oc #stray kids female member #stray kids female oc

[gohyuck]

the purge: society

pairing: firefighter!san x reader

genre: purge au, angst, some fluff

warnings: mentions of violence (especially violence against cops), murder, blood, injury, weapons (guns, knives, metal baseball bats)

word count: 2.4k

note: this was originally meant to be a drabble and it’s still pretty short so i didn’t get to elaborate on the characters but honestly maybe i’ll explore a purge universe with ateez someday because this was fun (i’ve never watched any of the movies though so i’ll have to get on that)

“What the fuck?” 

He hadn’t expected to see anyone left alive on this street.

“Shut up and get down,” You hiss, reaching your good arm up to grab onto the man’s jacket collar before unceremoniously pulling him towards you. He stumbles, falling gracelessly onto you. A scream bubbles up in your throat as he accidentally puts pressure onto your already free-bleeding bicep, but you get ahold of yourself just in time, only letting the quietest of wounded moans escape you. 

“You’re the first person that hasn’t tried to kill me before talking to me all night - oh, shit,” The stranger trails off, swearing when you effectively stop him from speaking further by placing your switchblade right under his skin. It’s only then that he even pauses to take you in: your back is up by the police car door, sure, and your left arm has a massive gash in it, but you’re armed. There’s a pistol laying idly in your lap, kept company by a metal baseball bat. 

Not to mention, the knife at his neck. 

“What the hell are you doing, walking around unarmed and with a first aid kit? Also, how the hell are you unarmed and with just a first aid kit? What the fuck?” You let the questions out in a rapidfire fashion, and he can’t help but clock the slight rasp in your voice. It’s easier to recognize than the pained wheeze you’re trying very, very hard to suppress, but neither escape him. He’s trained to notice the little things, anyways. 

“You need to bandage that shit up,” The man ignores your questions, moving his head just enough to miss your blade but also enough to be able to look you in the eyes. “How long has it been bleeding?”

“That’s none of your business,” You grit out. “Answer my questions or I’ll kill you right here and now.”

“If I answer yours, will you answer mine?” For some reason, he doesn’t seem to be panicking just yet. His gaze is sincere, but it’s too solid to be that of a bona fide idiot. You suck in a breath of air. Threatening him would be so much easier if he didn’t seem like a nice guy. It’s hard enough to live through the night, you don’t need guilt on your hands, and you know you’re going to feel guilty when you kill him. And you will kill him.

You need that first aid kit. You’ll do anything for it.

Anything, starting off with lying. 

“Sure,” You reply, steeling yourself for any sudden movements he might make now that you’re faking amicability. Maybe he’ll believe you to be vulnerable and try for your pistol or your bat, or maybe he’ll be properly cruel and finish off your arm. You don’t want to think about it. He lets out a sigh of relief, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve actually affected him after all. “Now speak.”

“Not unarmed, there’s a police-issue pistol in my jacket and a tactical knife in my jeans. I’m not totally nuts. First aid kit’s for my buddy, though, I’ll be real, you need it way more than him.” There’s something resembling concern in his expression as his eyes flit between your torn arm and your face, but that barely interests you. You haven’t truly registered anything after ‘police-issue’.

You lean in, pressing the edge of your knife against the skin directly above his adam’s apple. For the first time since you’d cornered him, your mystery purger’s breath hitches. His eyebrows draw together in confusion. It’s no matter. You no longer regret the fact that you’ll have to tear his jugular out yourself. 

“You’re a hog, huh,” You stare him down, any sympathy you might’ve had gone. For a moment, it seems as if he has no concept of what you’re saying. A second passes, though, and his gaze clears. 

“Firefighter,” He responds, though the word is garbled due to him attempting to keep his movements to a minimum. You pull back slightly, very slightly, to let him explain. “I… found a dead cop, jacked his pistol. I’ll show you my ID, if you want.” 

“Let me see it.” You nod your head at him as if giving him permission to live a little longer, though you both know full well that identity theft and identity fabrication are legal, too. Might as well see how much effort he puts into a fake. The man waits until you pull back just a bit more, enough to let him slowly reach his hand into his back pocket before producing a lanyard. 

You grab it out of his grip with your hurt arm, not willing to move your knife too far away from his throat. You simply don’t have a good enough read on - you glance down - San Choi, ACT Firefighter, Employee ID: 018-102-4 to allow yourself any leeway with him. 

His gently smiling face stares up at you from the plastic card, protected only by a clear sleeve connected to a red lanyard. San’s photo has black hair and an undercut, styled so his forehead is on display. A pair of dimples makes a guest appearance, and, overall, he seems like a genuinely sweet guy. The ID looks real, too, so maybe you aren’t totally fucked. 

The San under your knife has bleach blond hair that almost falls over his eyes, though you suppose you can’t blame him for skipping out on the hair product tonight. He seems slightly tanner than his photo, his skin beautiful even now as dust from the aftermath of the explosion starts to settle against it. 

Right. The explosion. 

Recalling the events leading up to you meeting San forces you to remember that you have a gaping, bloody gash in your left arm. You’re honestly lucky to be alive, having ducked and used the car you’re against for cover from flying debris after a building down the block had exploded. You’d just finished driving your knife into a cop’s side - third cop of the night, eighth of your career as a purge cop killer - to make sure that he was dead when you’d heard the bomb go off, and you’d dropped before even thinking about it. Something had hit your arm on the way down, and when the adrenaline had finally left your system, you’d taken note of your blood-soaked sleeve. 

You’d closed the car door after that, sealing your third murder of the night in the vehicle just so you could lean up against the door. It had been 6:31 in the morning then, and you had figured that someone would come by and kill you in the last moments before legality ensued again. You’d assumed that you’d fight, of course you would, but your arm being totally fucked definitely put a damper on your belief in your ability to overcome anyone or anything else. 

Instead of the disgruntled, trigger-happy purger you’d expected to eventually find, though, you’d been found by San Choi. San Choi, who’s currently staring at your wounded arm like it’s grown eyes and can stare back. 

“Come on, let me fix it up,” He pleads, lifting the kit up with the hand that’s farther from you. “You might not trust me, or whatever, but the purge is about to end as it is. I have a paramedic friend, Seonghwa, who’s taught me the basics of -”

“Shut the fuck up.” You tell him, though you’re quickly losing your bite. He obeys regardless. God, your arm really, really fucking hurts. Before pulling your knife back, you check the watch on your wrist. 6:47. Stay alive for 13 more minutes, 780 more seconds. You’ll be fine. You take the shakiest breath you’ve ever taken. 

You pull your knife away from him. 

Nothing happens. 

“I’m going to use an alcohol free wipe and then wrap gauze around your arm, okay? You’ll just have to hold out until we can get you to a working hospital after that,” San speaks as if he’s talking to a child, or a scared animal, and you can’t blame him. He doesn’t seem like a purger, but you technically are one. You wouldn’t put it past yourself to attack on a whim if you were him. He, very slowly and with his hands in your full view at all times, opens the kit and pulls out the requisite materials. 

“Gonna need you to rip your sleeve off above the cut.” He continues, leaning back as you bring your knife up to your clothes and slit the cloth right above your wound. You tear the remainder of the sleeve off your arm before throwing it behind you somewhere. San gently grabs ahold of your elbow - his palm is calloused in a way that tells you he lifts regularly, and you’re sure of this as he discards his jacket and you watch the muscles ripple in his arms under his thin black shirt - and places the wipe against your cut. 

Your reaction is instantaneous: now that you’re completely past the adrenaline stage, the feeling of something, anything against the gash has you reeling to cry out. Before you can even process that you’ve made a sound, a hand presses hard against the back of your head, shoving your mouth against San’s. 

He doesn’t know how else to shut you up. 

His lips are chapped, but the sensation of being kissed so suddenly jars you out of your pain. San attempts to pull back, and you can already feel the apologetic wince he’s about to give you, but he brushes over your wound with the wipe again and your pain doubles back. It’s you that pulls him in this time, pressing your lips to his sloppily but forcefully as if it’ll alleviate the burn in your arm. 

Kissing him only slightly muffles you at best, but you no longer care. The purge isn’t over yet. You could both die at any second. Hell, San could kill you at any second. His hand moves from the back of your head to cup your face as he leans in towards you to deepen the kiss. His lips are chapped, yes, but they’re soft. He tastes like mint and copper: there’s a cut in his lower lip. You don’t mind. 

San pulls away for a moment, but only does so to grab the gauze from the kit. Once he’s wrapped it around your arm once, twice, thrice, he leans back in and your mouth accepts his own eagerly, your other hand coming up to drape over his shoulder. Neither of you know why you’re doing this, kissing a stranger with such fervor as one of you bandages the other up, but you both know that there’s really nothing else to do. 

It’s only after he finishes taping you up that the two of you pull away fully. His eyes are still just as kind as you’d thought them to be at first, though his lips are far more swollen than they’d been mere minutes prior. You admire your handiwork, eyes tracing his features as he admires his own, thumb very, very gently running over your gauze. Both of you raise your heads to smile sheepishly at each other at the exact same time.

Three things happen in rapid succession. 

“Good?” San’s voice is barely above a whisper, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Just as you’re about to speak - 

“San!” A voice, low and hoarse, interrupts you, and you look up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at the space between your eyes. You’re frozen in place for a split second before you start reaching for your own pistol. Your fingers brush the grip when - 

The clock strikes seven, and sirens go off all around you, signalling the end of the purge. 

The gun is out of your face. Your hand moves off of your own.

“San,” The owner of the gun pays you no mind, suddenly, his entire focus on San. The gun-owner reaches a hand out, and the firefighter beside you takes it, allowing himself to get pulled up to his feet. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, Yunho, I’m totally good,” San responds, giving the taller man a cat-like grin of reassurance. Yunho’s got a fireman’s helmet on, and you suppose it’s good as protection. He must be a fellow firefighter, then. He’s tall, and though he’d seemed nothing short of severe mere moments ago, he seems softer, kinder now that the purge is over. The transformation is enough to give you whiplash. His right hand is wrapped in bandages, and this catches San’s sight at the same time it catches your own. “What the hell happened to you, though?” 

“That policeman you killed had buddies,” Yunho replies with ease, but you don’t miss San’s wince. Seems like he hadn’t just happened upon that police-issue pistol. You can’t help the small grin that fights to make its way across your face. “They tried to get into the station, we had to fortify ourselves. We’re mostly fine, just that Woo’s lost a finger. He’ll live once he stops whining about it. We were mostly worried about you, honestly, taking fucking forever just to find a first aid kit. Who’s this?”

Yunho moves the topic of conversation over to you so naturally that you barely even realize what has happened before San is reaching a hand out to you to pull you up to a standing position. You grab ahold of your pistol, though you shove the bat off your lap before allowing yourself to be brought up. Without thinking, you practically plaster yourself to San’s side. Now that he’s for sure what he told you he was, and now that you’re no longer in danger of dying, you can’t help but feel inexplicably connected to him even though neither of you know each other. San wraps an arm around your waist naturally, and neither of you miss Yunho’s eyebrow raise. Neither of you acknowledge it, either. 

“This?” San asks rhetorically, turning his head slightly to look at you. He’s smiling again, and you find that you want to see it more often. Maybe you’re experiencing the onset of delirium. You hope not. “This is…” 

“(Name),” You reply, being honest. There’s no need for you to lie. Besides, you owe San answers, right? You stick your uninjured arm out, letting Yunho shake your hand. San’s grip tightens around your waist. 

“I’m (Name).”

#first #five #tags #dont #work #san #san fluff #san angst #ateez san #choi san #ateez angst #ateez fluff #san x reader #choi san x reader #san smut

[destourtereaux]

secrets and confessions - f.w.

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first ever fic, a cute little fred weasley x reader, please reblog if you enjoy it! also feel free to leave any suggestions or advice below! (this is inspired by me being a math nerd :))

warnings: none; a tiiiiiny bit angsty in the beginning but mostly fluff

word count: 1,024 (short but sweet!)

Follow @lovebirdupdates​ to join my “taglist”!

----------

You couldn’t quite remember when the older Weasley twin had begun to carve his way into your heart. Of course, you had always loved him, but as a best friend, a brother, a fellow Gryffindor -- never more than platonically. But now? His every word seemed to make your stomach flutter and that cheeky smile never failed to bring a tint of red to your face.

Sadly, you had long resolved to push these feelings away, because never in a million years would Fred ever reciprocate them. It hurt, but you were sure it was the right choice. 

Then, on an early winter morning in the Great Hall, you were finishing up your sausages when Fred suddenly jumped onto the Gryffindor table, scattering dishes everywhere. You were less than impressed -- no doubt the twins had a new product to showcase -- and dug right back into your breakfast. Mere seconds later, however, you heard a shared gasp echo around the table. Out of nowhere, Fred had produced a fresh bouquet of gorgeous daisies.

Your jaw dropped. This was it, you were losing him, losing him to another lucky girl. Involuntarily, you felt tears welling in your eyes. You scanned the nearby area, looking for the object of this obvious display of affection -- there, Angelina. You clenched your jaw and looked down, stabbing at your eggs viciously. You had been foolish to believe you even had a chance. And it didn’t help that you couldn’t hate Angie either, she was super sweet and a killer quidditch chaser, perfect for your Fred.

But much to your surprise, the red-headed boy didn’t turn in Angelina’s direction, nor Katie’s, and not even Alicia’s. Instead, his warm brown eyes found yours and he offered you the bouquet. 

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy. “Would you do me the honour of accompanying my handsome, kind, and respectful ass to Hogsmeade?” 

Laughter erupted around the long Gryffindor table at this, but unlike usual, you didn’t join in. It’s a joke, you thought, this is just some stupid marketing ploy, just another Weasley prank, and tried to push down the hope that had threatened to flood your body at his words.

“Oh piss off, Freddie,” you chuckled, hiding the embarrassment climbing up the nape of your neck, “you can cut it out now -- reckon you’ve got just about everyone’s attention, is that bouquet a new product you two came up with?”

To your surprise, Fred’s grin seemed to dim, but luckily, no one else noticed -- everyone in the Great Hall was looking for your reaction.

“No, love, I’m serious -- I’ve liked you for years! I just didn’t realize. But now, I’ve finally got it all figured out! It just took some deep thinking,” he confessed.

At this, George cocked an eyebrow. 

“Annnnnd some help from friends --” Fred added hastily, “Y/N, I swear. I wouldn’t joke about something like this. From the moment you jinxed that prat who made fun of my hair to the time you absolutely squashed Malfoy in quidditch, I’ve been mad for you. It’s just taken a hell of a long time for me to realize,” he finished with a sigh. “Of course, there’s no pressure or anything, I’d understand if you said no, it’d be bloody embarrassing, of course, but -- I love our friendship just the way it i--”

He was cut off by you pressing your lips to his in a moment of bravado.

The kiss tasted just like you thought it would: sweet, but also fiery, almost like fireworks -- and you could’ve sworn one had just been set off in the Great Hall from the thunderous cheering that ensued.

You smiled against Fred’s lips and whispered, “Had to shut you up somehow, Freddie, wouldn’t want you getting carried away and ruining that I don’t give a damn reputation you’ve worked so hard to build.” 

At this, Fred was the one who laughed. “Always lookin’ out for me eh, Y/N? Well I guess that’s why I love you.” Then he broke the kiss and took a bow, thriving in the spotlight while you tried to process what he had just said.

-----------

You were sitting in a booth at The Three Broomsticks, sipping from a mug of steaming hot chocolate. You looked up to see Fred watching you and smiled at him, could this day get any better?

“Your bill, dears,” Madame Rosmerta cut in, and placed it on the counter. “It’s ten sickles and three knuts before taxes... so afterwards, that would be...” she paused and whipped out a calculator.

“11 sickles and 5 knuts,” Fred interrupted. 

Madame Rosmerta glanced at her calculator, then back at him, her eyes widening. “Precisely, sir,” she said, “just leave the payment on the counter when you’re ready.”

You whipped your head around to your date in confusion. “How’d you do that Freddie? You’re rubbish at Arithmancy!”

The boy donned a wounded expression. “Aw that hurts, Y/N, that you’d think so little of me. Oh it pains me!”

“Shut it, Weasley,” you rolled your eyes, but you felt a smile creeping onto your visage. “I just meant -- well you asked me to tutor you in that same subject! What’d you do that for? You just calculated taxes faster than Madame Rosmerta could type! You don’t need my help at --”

Your eyes dawned in understanding. “So that’s why you would never show me your test marks! Because they were probably even better than mine! I- all this time I thought you were ashamed of em!”

“Oi! Quiet down Y/L/N! we can’t have everyone figuring out that I’m actually good at school,” Fred frowned as he pressed a hand to your mouth, muffling your voice.

“Well those study sessions were useless then!” you practically shouted. “You already knew all the material!”

At this, Fred just grinned. He glanced at his hand on your cheek, the two drinks at your table, and took in your rosy cheeks and bright eyes shining with curiosity.

“Well... I wouldn’t say completely useless,” he smirked, as your lips met.

***** Interested in my other works? See my masterlist!

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley #fred weasley oneshots #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fics #fred weasley reader insert #usergcdric

[mrkcore]

𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 - 𝐥.𝐦𝐤

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mark lee x y/n (ft. minor appearances of johnny)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: college!au, aged down mark

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: mark said forever, even in his songs, but you should have known better. based off of olivia rodrigo’s new single, drivers license.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, i’m sorry in advance

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): cheating/infidelity, heartbreak  

𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨: drivers license - olivia rodrigo

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k 

𝐚/𝐧: this was finished at 2 am again, so please excuse me if this is incoherent 😌 also, i changed around the order of some lyrics and deleted some sections to fit the story, so it’s not 100% the same. feedback is always welcomed!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @nakamotocore​, @astroboy-lele, @infnteen (comment here to be added!)

it was always so simple. even though mark was a year older, you guys planned it out. same university, same program, just different years. as simple as that. or so you thought.

i got my driver's license last week 

just like we always talked about 

'cause you were so excited for me 

to finally drive up to your house

but today i drove through the suburbs 

crying 'cause you weren't around 

mark started meeting you less often when he entered college. you didn’t think much of it, people always said the first year of college was the hardest. you just assumed the workload was catching him off-guard and he was too busy.

you didn’t tell him about getting your driver’s license. you wanted to surprise him. and you thought that if he was too busy, you’ll just go and visit him instead. before mark graduated, you guys would always be sneaking out at the crack of dawn in his white volkswagen, driving to the nearest mcdonalds, ordering whatever you craved. no cares or worries in the world. 

“hey, when are you going to get your license anyways?” mark asked you one night. “i’m always the one driving, am i your personal chauffeur or something?”

“hmm, what if you are?” you tease him. mark shoots daggers at you. “i’m kidding, i’m kidding! maybe next year, when i turn 18.”

“i’m excited.” he leaned back into his seat. “you’d be able to visit me whenever.”

“i’d annoy you.” you snort. he chuckles and playfully hits you.

“you know you’d never.” he looks at you, like he really meant it.

but he didn’t. because now, tears flow down your face as you drive home in your car from mark’s university.

and i know we weren't perfect, but i've never felt this way for no one 

and i just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that i'm gone 

guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 

'cause you said forever, now i drive alone past your street 

mark was always super passionate about songwriting. and when you guys were introduced to each other in guitar club of your freshman year, he finally found a companion to confide his interest in. when you guys snuck out, he would always bring his computer, speakers, and guitar. he’d play you the demos and songs that he had made and would want your opinions on them.

“how does it sound?” he asked you, pressing pause on his computer. it was the last day before the summer of freshman year for you, and he said he wanted to show you ‘something special’.

“yeah it’s pretty good, i think you could do a more complex guitar riff though? it would sound sick if you used E minor and riffed off onto the E major.” you suggested and turned to face mark’s smiling face. “what are you staring at?” you poked him.

“i wrote this about you, you dummy.” he flicked your forehead. “could you not tell?”

“ow, no?” you rubbed to soothe where he flicked you. “its too cheesy, and ‘that sun shining on me, my heart alive and breathing i want only one with you, all the things you make me do for you’? nah, mark lee has a little crush on someone.” you wiggled your eyebrows.

“yeah,” you whipped your head around. “you.” your brain stopped and all you feel is your heartbeat racing. you had never been romantically interested in mark, only friends. but that day changed it all.

“ayo, stop playing the innocent freshman girl.” you huff out. “i have a weak heart.” he taps your chin and turns your face back around.

“dude, i’m not playing.” he gazes into your eyes. “i’m serious, no joke.” your heart starts beating faster, the butterflies in your stomach are wild and your breaths are accentuated by the silence in the car. 

and that’s when he leans in. pressing his soft, watermelon chapstick flavoured lips onto yours. 

you close your eyes and you feel like you’re dreaming. 

“did that prove it?” he says when he pulls away, grinning at you.

“you’re pretty bold making a move on a freshman, bro.” you roll your eyes but your insides feel warm and fuzzy. “and you stole my first kiss!” you exclaim as you push him lightly and he puffs out in disbelief.

“what else do i gotta do to prove to you that i’m for real?” he says, crossing his arms.

“pinky promise me,” you say. “that you won’t leave and you’ll love me forever.” reaching out your pinky. mark laughs, his pinky intertwined with yours.

“now who’s the one who’s cheesy?” he teases. laughing as you angrily attempt to hit him. “i’m joking, i promise, forever.”

you should have known better, promises were made to be broken. but the sticky sweet watermelon flavour stuck on your lips blind you.

and all my friends are tired 

of hearing how much i miss you, but i kinda feel sorry for them 

'cause they'll never know you the way that i do 

yeah, today i drove through the suburbs 

and pictured i was driving home to you 

you know your friends are tired of you rambling about mark. even though they’ve endured it for 3 years already, they don’t see why you’re still talking about him even when he’s gone. you don’t really blame them though. you ditch them to hang out with mark all the time, it was like he was the higher priority than they were, but you were just realizing.

but could they blame you? mark was the definition of dreamy. anyone in your position would understand and agree. all of the fun, secrets, journeys, songs you shared, you felt like nobody knew him like you did. you felt like you were on cloud 9. 

but now is too late, as you realized after mark left that there was no one else that you would, could drive and feel at home with. you feel empty.

and you're probably with that blonde girl 

who always made me doubt 

she's so much older than me 

she's everything i'm insecure about 

yeah, today i drove through the suburbs 

'cause how could i ever love someone else? 

you felt like you had been stabbed in the chest. you stood there frozen, heart aching and numb. 

mark told you the address and room of where he was living before he left. when you arrived, you met johnny, mark’s roommate. he said mark was at the production studio probably and he could walk you to where it was.

when you arrived, you saw the back of mark’s head and the back of the sweater you gave him before he left. and right beside him, a blonde girl. sitting comfortably with her head rested on his shoulder. you stood there shocked. forgetting that johnny was standing beside you, he notices the change in your mood and asks if you were okay.

“oh, yeah i’m fine. i was just checking up on him, his mom wanted me to, haha.” you tried to laugh it off. “he needs to call them back to reassure them he’s not dead yet.” johnny’s laugh echos in your ears as you reassure yourself that they’re just friends. nothing’s going on between them, mark is just a super nice person.

“that’s kim aera by the way. the TA for mark’s producing class. i think she’s in her third year? anyways, mark really enjoys working with her. it’s like he lives in the studio, he’s always asking her for suggestions and other stuff.” johnny explains. you tense up, you were the only person that mark had wanted to ask suggestions from. pause, you were. not anymore. but it makes sense, she’s the TA, she obviously had more knowledge and experience in the studio. and she’s more, accessible… “what’s the deal between you two though? mark never mentions anything to me, what’s your name?” johnny snaps you out of your daze. 

“oh, uh, i’m y/n, mark’s family friend.” you try to cover up the nervousness and cracking in your voice. “yeah. our parents are close, so her mom can count on me to report on him. haha.” you laugh lightly. “i’m going to get going now, mark is obviously intact, so that’s good. i’ll catch you around.”

“oh cool. see you.” johnny waves, and you walk out the door.

you try to convince yourself that there’s nothing going on between mark and this aera, but reassurance won’t make the truth disappear. 

you come back a few weeks later. you thought that after finals, he might be more free, and you guys could finally hang out for once. you thought that after hanging out again, everything would go back to normal. he’d go back to texting you, showing you new songs, and maybe hanging out more often as well.

“oh hey y/n, you’re back?” johnny answers the door once again. “he’s at the studio right now, do you need me to walk you there?”

“i think i’m good, i remember where it is. sorry for disrupting you. bye.” you smiled, and after johnny waves back and closes the door, you walk towards the studio.

you think of many different scenarios of how this will play out, but this isn’t what you expected. 

you walk into the studio, about to call mark’s name, but you see the blonde locks again. 

“thanks for helping me out with the lyrics, you’re really good with words.” mark says, smiling. “i think you’re a great role model.” 

you feel a little jab at your side. lyricism was never your strong suit. you could write beautiful melodies and harmonies, but the words never seem to come out.

your heart stops. right when their lips lock. with the way her arms are pulling mark in by his nape, you can tell that she’s more experienced. you felt like you had been stabbed in the chest. you stood there frozen, heart aching and numb. you bolt out the door, you feel suffocated. you really were naive. if this is what heartbreak feels like, you don’t think that falling in love is worth it anymore.

you don’t look back. that’s the last time you ever see mark again. 

apparently johnny asked mark about you.

“hey mark,” johnny calls out. “how was your meeting with your family friend y/n yesterday?” 

mark stops dead in his tracks and his heart sinks. you came to see him? how come he didn’t see you? how did johnny know your name? and, why were you his family friend?

“oh uh, yeah it went well, thanks for telling me anyways.” mark escapes to his room.

mk.l

hey

did you come to see me?

you

no

why?

mk.l

oh, nevermind then.

johnny probably got the name wrong.

red lights, stop signs 

i still see your face in the white cars, front yards 

can't drive past the places we used to go to 

'cause i still fucking love you, babe 

sidewalks we crossed i still hear your voice in the traffic

we're laughing over all the noise 

god, i'm so blue, know we're through 

but i still fucking love you, babe 

the world was quieter and stopped spinning. that feeling of being on top of the world all the time stopped too. you stopped going on your phone, you stopped socializing with people in general to be honest. you didn’t know how to face anyone. everywhere you went, everything you did, reminded you of mark. mark’s laugh, mark’s random nose scrunches, mark’s favourite songs, mark’s guitar, mark’s self-written melodies. you can’t go to mcdonalds, you can’t watch the sunset inside your car at the parking lot behind your local church, you couldn’t even pick up your guitar anymore. your melodies and harmonies didn’t come as smoothly anymore. you felt sick, you didn’t want to do music. it’s just not the same anymore. you didn’t feel like you had a purpose. 

but you slowly got back up. music became your way of coping. listening to other people’s songs about heartbreak, you felt like you weren’t alone. your first heartbreak, no one there to teach you about it, and no one there to comfort you. so you did it yourself. you had no musical purpose, but now, your music was for you, your own personal expression. all the harmonies, melodies, colours, came back to you. and unexpectedly out of the blue, the words came to you too. 

i know we weren't perfect, but i've never felt this way for no one 

and i just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that i'm gone 

'cause you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 

'cause you said forever, now i drive alone past your street 

yeah, you said forever, now i drive alone past your street

the backing instrumentals fade out and the emotion in your voice trickles into the darkness of mark’s room as he closes his laptop. 

you found your words. he thinks, smiling sadly. finally.

©mrkcore, 2021.

#mark lee #mark lee imagines #mark lee angst #mark oneshots #mark lee fanfic #mark imagines #nct #nct dream #nct writing #nct oneshots #nct scenarios

[bxngchxn]

mr. big shot || s. changbin

characters:  seo changbin + female reader

words: 3.2k

genre:  smut, some fluff, angst if you squint

warnings: dom!Changbin, brat!reader, slight degradation, orgasm denial, oral (both parties giving + receiving), unprotected penitrative sex (use protection always!), general hard dom themes, Changbin is kinda conceited at first but it’ll be ok don’t worry

This is a piece of fiction and is not suitable for anyone UNDER THE AGE OF 18.

summary: You run into the hot shot producer on campus at a frat party, who seems to take a liking to you, the only person who doesn’t care.

You don’t even like frat parties.

The LED lights that are somehow always a dark blue, the more than slightly used furniture that has no doubt been passed down a generation or two, not to mention the obnoxious antics of drunk, stressed college kids? Not your thing. In fact, the only reason why you were here was because of your roommate Rose, who had her eye on Bang Chan, a member of the frat who’s kitchen you were currently sitting in. By yourself, with a drink in hand. It isn’t even good alcohol, either; just some sad excuse of an Amaretto Sour that was not even giving you a nice buzz.

It’s around midnight at this point, and the party is in full swing. Couches in the living room were pushed against the walls to ensure ample room for dancing, sweaty bodies clinging to each other and grinding to the beat playing out of the speakers set up in the main room. You look around the room and you see a few people you recognize from your classes, but most remain unfamiliar to you.

ADK (Alpha Delta Kappa) was one of, if not the biggest (and most popular) frat on campus. Their parties were always crowded, mixing top 40s hits with some original music that the music production majors of the house compose themselves. The parties almost always ended up lasting until sunrise, and you can only take pity on their neighbors, who have to deal with the noise so late into the night.

You, however, had no intention for staying that long. Getting annoyed, you pushed your way through the sea of people in search of Rose, to let her know you were going home. As you walk through the crowd, finally spotting your roommate and heading her way, someone grabs you by the arm and spins you around to face them.

“Can I help you?” you ask, attitude through the roof as if someone thought they could just grab you like that. “Well, you sure seem to be in a hurry. I’m just trying to keep you company,” the man says with a charming (read: aggravating) smile. You look up at him in annoyance and also confusion. You’re pretty sure you’ve never seen this guy in your life.

He looked to be one of those snobby rich kids; his hair dyed silver and styled oh-so-perfectly, complemented by a button down that you could clearly tell was designer. His shoulders were broad, and his skin a glowing tan that actually would’ve made him look like the sun itself, if his smile wasn’t so kniving.

“I’m..sorry, do I know you?” You ask, and his expression goes from smug to shocked in under three seconds. 

“You don’t know who I am?” He asks, unconvinced. You couldn’t believe the arrogance coming from this guy. Who even is he?

 “Yeah, I have no idea who you are. Sorry, maybe you mistook me for someone else.” you say. You try to leave, but his grip is still on your wrist, and you’re forced to turn back round. Wanting nothing more than to clock the man standing in front of you, you huff and give him a piercing glare. “Let go of me,” you insist.

 He smirks and let’s go of your wrist, but for some reason the look he’s giving you makes you freeze on the spot. “My name is Changbin. Give me one dance sweetheart, that’s all I’m asking,” he says, his eyes never leaving yours.

Changbin...you were racking your brain trying to figure out why that name sounded so familiar to you. And then it hit you.

Seo Changbin is a member of AKD, and a friend of Chan’s. You figured he must be the Spear B that everyone on campus raves about, and now you know where his cocky demeanor is coming from. Girls and guys alike fall for all 3 members of 3racha. You had never met Changbin before, so it was no surprise you didn’t recognize him right away. Up until now, he was almost like a piece of folklore; everyone had a story about him but you were pretty sure he didn’t exist.

This would be a bad idea. Giving into him. You knew it would be. But regardless, he was attractive, and it doesn’t hurt to have a little fun every once in a while, right?

He watched your resolve slowly crumble as he stuck out his hand. Taking it, he pulls you onto the dance floor (well...the spot of the living room that was turned into one anyway) and doesn’t hesitate to turn you around, feeling your back come into contact with his broad chest.

There’s an upbeat pop song playing through the DJ speakers, and you start to sway your hips along to the beat while trying to distract yourself from the arousal that's starting to creep in as you feel Changbin’s arms snake around your waist, pushing your hips against his. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” you say, remembering that you hadn’t even told him your name. 

You can feel his breath ghosting against your neck as he brings his mouth to your ear. “So, Y/N,” he asks, “you really didn’t recognize me did you?” he asked, the feign hurt in his tone making you roll your eyes. “You know, you’re not all that special Mr. Big Shot,” you say, chuckling under your breath.

“Hmm and how can you say that? This is the first time we’ve met, doll. Can’t think you’d know everything about me just yet.” he says, and the use of the nickname sets you on fire. His hips have started moving to match your own, and you would be lying if the pressure you were starting to feel on your lower back didn’t spur you on to tease him a little, moving your hips away from him now and again only to have him pull you right back, turning you around to face him this time.

 “Aaanddd where do you think you’re going?” He laughs, and you roll your eyes at him. “Does it look like I’m going anywhere?” you say as you start moving your hips again.

“Better lose the attitude baby, it’s gonna get you in trouble if you’re not careful,” he says, his eyes darkening as you wind your arms around his neck. “Will it now? No offense, but I don’t think you’ll be able to do much damage,” you say, although you can feel yourself breaking already as you have less than innocent thoughts running through your mind.

“Is that a challenge I hear?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at your antics. “Does it sound like one?” you snap back, anticipating his next move.

Before you know it, Changbin’s lips are on your neck, his grip tightening on your waist exponentially. “Just remember: you asked for it.” he says against your ear as he pulls you from the living room and down the hallway of the AKD house.

Once Changbin has you in his room, door locked, it’s game on. He immediately pushes you against the bedroom door and begins his attack on your neck once again. You want to keep your composure; make him think that you’re not that easy to break, wanting to make him work for it, but the way he moves his lips up your neck and finally to your lips is already making you want to surrender and let him have his way with you. He bites your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you immediately grant him. Kissing Changbin was different. It was red hot and every movement was making the knot of excitement in your stomach tighten.

His hands slip under your shirt, and the feeling of them on your bare skin has you letting out the tiniest whimper. He pulls away from your lips with a smirk. “There it is..I know you’re starting to break baby, why don’t you just be good for me and do as you’re told, huh?” He teases, lifting your shirt up to touch more of your skin. “Not a chance,” you tell him, although your voice is already sounding breathy. You move to touch him over his jeans, his cock already hard.

Changbin groans quietly and moves to grip your hair. He pulls your head back harshly, and laughs at the expression of pleasure on your face. “All I had to do was use a little force and you’re putty in my hands, baby.. I knew it. You like being bossed around don’t you?” He says, fingers moving under your skirt. “Answer me, slut.” He says, pulling your hair once more for good measure. “Yes sir,” you gasp, feeling every ounce of brat you had in you leaving your body.

 “That’s more like it,” he says, releasing your hair. “On your knees,” he orders, pushing your shoulders downward.

You immediately oblige, looking up at him with wide eyes as you undo his belt and pop the button of his jeans. Pulling his cock out from his underwear, you’re pleased with what you see. Changbin is surprisingly well endowed; long and rather thick, and you can’t help but imagine what he’ll feel like in your mouth.

Grabbing the base of his cock, you give kitten licks to the head, pink and enticing. You hear Changbin groan and you make eye contact with him. “Stop teasing doll, you won’t like the outcome,” he growls, and that’s enough for you to take him as far into your mouth as you can, tip hitting the back of your throat.

 You make sure to run your tongue along the underside of his cock, tracing the vein and making sure he feels you on every inch of him. You start off a steady pace, Changbin’s fingers pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail. You suddenly relax your throat and take all of him, gagging slightly as he slides down your throat. “Jesus Christ,” the man says as he feels your throat around him. “You’re so good at this,” he says breathily and the praise spurs you to continue.

 Before you even get the chance, Changbin is setting the pace, fucking into your throat. Tears stream down your face at the roughness of it all, but the moan you let out around his dick lets Changbin know that you’re doing just fine.

Pulling you off of his cock, he sighs. “As much as I would love to cum down that pretty throat of yours, doll, I have other plans.” He says, picking you up and immediately making his way to his bed, laying you down on the soft pillows rather roughly. He’s over you in an instant, taking your shirt off as well as his own, and letting his eyes roam over your chest and the pretty pink lace that adorns you.

“Hm, pink. It’s cute.” he says quietly and you blush, the compliment soft in contrast to the situation. You take a second to admire him, and it was just what you had imagined. Tan skin, muscles flexing as he’s moving over you. He lets his lips wander your collarbone, taking the skin into his mouth and sucking a dark purple spot that will definitely leave you thinking about him for days to come.

Taking one of your breasts in his hand, he enjoys the feeling of the lace under his hands. You arch your back slightly as he takes the nipple in between his fingers, twisting and pulling until it’s hard. He does the same to the other, and you almost want to start begging. It seems like he can read your mind as he moves you to sit up so he can take your bra off for you. He gets it in one try, and you’re not surprised. Once the piece of fabric is removed he replaces his fingers with his mouth, circling his tongue around your nipple and biting on it teasingly.

His kisses start trailing down your abdomen, sucking random marks into your skin that you know will end up bruising. You buck your hips up instinctively, silently begging for him to just touch you. Placing a hand on your stomach to hold your hips down, Changbin settles in between your legs, leaving kisses on your inner thighs as he pushes your skirt up. 

“Changbin,” you breathe, hoping he’ll just get the hint. “Yes, doll? What is it?” he says, opting to just take your skirt off, revealing the matching panties underneath. You lay there, refusing to beg and trying to hold onto whatever resolve you had left. “I won’t know what you want unless you use your words, baby. Come on,” he says, continuing the kisses on your thighs, fingers playing with the elastic of your underwear. Huffing, you finally give in.

“Please Changbin, I need you” you begin to beg, and he looks up at you. The look on his face set your insides on fire, you don’t even mind the embarrassment you feel in the pit of your stomach as you beg for him. 

 “You need me? Need me where, baby? Here?” he says, his lips moving closer to your core but not where you truly want them. “Need your tongue on my clit. Please,” you ask quietly and he finally pulls your panties down, throwing them somewhere. “I don’t know doll, doesn’t sound like you really want it,” he chuckles, and your cheeks go red as you realize just what he wants to hear.

“Please Changbin, I need your tongue so bad. I promise I will be so good..just..just please,” you basically whine the latter half of the sentence, hoping it’ll get your point across.

 “Now, was that so bad?” He says and finally licks a stripe up your clit, you moan out loud at the sensation, finally getting what you want.

Changbin is relentless, lips and tongue moving in a way that you have never experienced before. Switching from flat licks against your heat to small kitten licks against your clit. You can feel the knot in your core tighten impossibly tight, and you almost can’t take it anymore.

Changbin knows your close, and pulls away from your pussy. His lips are glistening and he looks up at you with a smile when he hears you whine. “Please Changbin don’t st-stop,” you say, feeling sad as your high ebbs away slowly. “Mm I don’t know if you deserve it, you need to be punished for how bratty you were acting earlier..you realize that acting up means punishments, don’t you doll?” He says, fingers tracing patterns into your thighs, moving closer to your core to tease you even further. 

“Yes sir I understand.” You say, just hoping that he’ll eventually give you what you want.

“Good. Now, you’re not allowed to come until I tell you to. Understood?” He says, moving back to your clit. “I understand sir,” you say, throwing your head back as his tongue finally comes into contact with your core again.

Changbin edges you two, maybe three more times after that. Honestly, you stopped counting, just trying to focus on every ounce of pleasure that he’s giving you. It was truly torture. The only thoughts in your head were him, him, him, and you knew he was set on making sure that wasn’t going to change any time soon. 

At this point he already has two fingers inside of you, and you’re sure you’re going to explode until Changbin slows his ministrations at the last moment, edging you for the fourth time. He trails his fingers to your mouth. “Open,” he says and you immediately comply, cleaning his fingers off and sucking on them once for good measure.

“Are you ready for me, baby?” he asks, taking his jeans and underwear off, leaving the both of you completely naked. You nod your head furiously. “What’s your color doll? I need to make sure you’re okay with this,” he says as he runs the head of his cock through your folds. 

“Green, Sir fuck, just plea-” your sentence is cut off with a moan as Changbin finally pushes himself into you, going slowly to let you adjust. Once he’s bottomed out he leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss. Once the slight sting of the stretch has dissipated, the fire igniting in you grows stronger and you move your hips, signaling to him that you’re okay.

Changbin pulls all the way out and slams back in, your eyes rolling into the back of your head almost instantly. The drag of his cock against your walls is enough to have you seeing stars, finally satiating all of your desires. He sets a rough and steady pace, and it’s hard to keep yourself together. The room is filled with a mix of sounds; skin slapping against each other, your breathy whines and a grunt from Changbin every so often.

“Look at you doll, taking me so well. You were really made for my cock weren’t you? All mine to ruin and destroy.” he says in your ear, one hand going around your throat and applying slight pressure. It’s bringing you closer to the edge and Changbin knows it, snaking his free hand down to your body to rub harsh circles on your clit. “Go ahead baby, cum for me, let the whole house know who’s making you feel this good” He says as his pace quickens.

His permission was all you needed, the knot coiling tight and finally breaking. Your vision goes white, and your legs are shaking as your orgasm finally washes over you, stronger than ever due to the four denied orgasms you’ve already had tonight. 

“Oh my god, Changbin,” you repeat over and over, riding out your high as he continues his rough pace. He was getting close too, the feeling of you contracting around his cock bringing him to the edge. He pulls out and flips you around, helping you get to your hands and knees before he inserts himself in you once again, the new position letting him fuck you harder than before.

“I’m almost there baby, you think you can cum for me one more time?” he says with a grunt. You’re still sensitive from your first orgasm and you can definitely feel a second one approaching, babbling nonsense as Changbin starts to lose control. His thrusts become more erratic, and his hand is around your throat again, pulling you close to him as he fucks you into the mattress.

Your second orgasm washes over you and the only thing you know how to say is his name. The feeling of your own orgasm finally pushes him over the edge too, groaning as he spills into you and helps you both ride out your highs. Once you’ve calmed down he pulls out of you, and you both fall to the mattress.

Changbin pulls you into his arms, bringing your back against his chest, just how it was when you first met him earlier in the night.

 “That, was…” you say, “Amazing.” Changbin finishes your sentence for you and it makes you giggle. Snuggling into you a little closer, you hear him laugh under his breath.

“I know this is a little backwards, but I was wondering if you’d let me take you to dinner tomorrow,” he says hesitantly.

 You turn around in his hold and place a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I..would love that, Changbin.” you say right before you succumb to the desire to sleep. The last thing you remember is a kiss on your forehead.

Your dreams seem to be filled with him, and when you wake up the next morning, seeing him bathed in the soft morning light, you feel content for the first time in a long time. And you welcome the change.

Maybe Seo Changbin is all that special, and then some.

taglist: @dom--minnie @sparklemin @minholuvs @hanflix @mochinnie @moonlit-lixie @formidxble @chaangbin @jisungiesbunnie @es-kay-zee @jinned

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #changbin smut #bxngchxn fics #binnie #changbin scenarios

[bffsoobin]

princeps caeli

➤ air prince!hueningkai x orphan!reader, royalty!au, historical!au, fluff, mild angst

↳ For as long as you could remember, you had been enamored with the sky and all the things it contained. When you find yourself leaving the home you grew up in, you rely more than ever on the comfort of the glimmering sky. Finding a home among the clouds you’d always admired seemed far from reality until you met Hueningkai. 

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: reader is an orphan, so mentions of loss of parents/family, some self-doubt, brief mentions of homelessness and feeling alone

A/N: this is my contribution to the Five Princes collab with @soobmint @gyuluster @honeyju and @juunnies please be sure to keep an eye out for their contributions for the other members to be posted in the coming weeks! This was a super fun project and I’m so happy I got to be part of it! As always I have not proofread or edited this piece. 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

“It’s almost noon, miss Y/N,” a small, timid voice chimed from somewhere behind you. The grass underneath your body was beginning to poke at the back of your neck, sticking between the thick strands of your hair and making your scalp itch. You were sure that the back of your pale pink day dress was being stained with a subtle green, but you couldn’t quite find it in your soul to care. After all, this was an undeniably big day. 

Just this morning, you had woken up to a special loaf of your favorite bread cooling on the counter in the kitchen along with a handwritten note from the head lady of the house, Beatrice. The note was simple, with scrawling letters congratulating you on your eighteenth birthday. 

Since you were an infant, you’d lived in the 4th Street Orphanage, cared for by Beatrice and the few staff members she was able to sustain employment for. It was the only life you’d ever known, as you never knew your parents apart from a single photograph salvaged from the house you were born in. There had never been a time in your life where you longed for family, as the other children living alongside you had been more than enough company, and the staff were never harsh like you heard they were at other orphanages. 

But today, the life you had come to know and love within the walls of the homey orphanage was coming to an end. Now that you were eighteen, it was time for you to leave the home and made space for younger children to enter the home. The thought of leaving made your stomach lurch, but you knew that it was for the best. Beatrice had helped you secure a new living arrangement in the next town over, and your train was set to leave just after noon- hence the warning of time from the little boy. 

You allowed yourself an extra moment to study the swirling skies above you. Large, puffy clouds were covering almost every inch of the blue sky; dancing and forming into new shapes with every pass of warm wind. It was one of the simplest pleasures in your life, to watch the sky shift and shake above you. The garden you laid in now had been your haven for as long as you could remember. Often you would drag a pillow and blanket out to the field and spend an entire day reveling in the breeze and the chirps of passing creatures. On several occasions throughout your youth, a uniquely beautiful butterfly who boasted silvery-blue wings with strong black markings had visited you in. It was unlike any butterfly you’d seen in the region before, but you admired it wholly every time it came around to your home. You couldn’t help but hope that it would flutter into your path again today before you had to go.

“Is she out in the garden again?” You heard a familiar, bellowing voice call from the open windows of the orphanage. It was surely Beatrice, growing anxious as the clock ticked closer to noon. All of your things had been packed before you went outside, but there was still a lingering desire for closure before you departed. Reluctantly, you hauled yourself off of the plush grass and brushed at your knees before wandering back toward the house. 

Inside, all of the other children you lived with were gathered in the living room, engaged in various activities, and you were grateful that only a few of their gazes shifted to you. You were grateful for that, as the few stares you did catch made you feel an odd sense of guilt for leaving. A blush crept out from the collar of your dress, thankfully disguised by the sweltering heat of the day as the few members of the staff gave you tearful smiles. 

The grandfather clock on the wall played its tinny, high pitched song to announce the arrival of noon. Upon hearing the sound, a group of children rose from their spots and came to hug you in turn. The ones old enough to understand your departure breathed messages of thanks and farewell, while the younger children toddled over and hugged at your legs simply because they’d seen others do it. Sometime during the shuffle, Beatrice had gone up to your room to collect your single suitcase of belongings and was now standing solemnly next to the front door. 

“Dear, it’s time to get going...” she spoke softly, extending an age-worn hand toward you. She offered you the worn leather suitcase and you accepted it quickly; hugging the case to your chest protectively as you gave one last goodbye to the rest of the home. 

Your short walk to the train station was mostly silent. Beatrice had never been one for small talk, and you were experiencing so many warring emotions that you wouldn’t have even known what to say if you could manage to open your mouth. 

“Listen to me,” she said just as the bustle of people around the train station came into view. “When you arrive in town, you go straight to the Pharmacy as I told you. The woman who owns it is very old but very kind. I’ve known her for many years, and she’s looking for a new young soul to work at the shop, and she has a spare bedroom in the apartment above the place that she’s willing to give to you. I got a letter from her just last week that she was anticipating your arrival.” 

Suddenly overwhelmed with the new direction of your life, a few tears began to gather around your lashes but you blinked them away. Your head felt hazy, stuffed full of cotton as you took mindless steps toward the train station. Of course, Beatrice noticed your state right away and cooed comfortingly in the way only a mother could.  

“We’ll be just a train ride away, dear. And I do so wish you could simply stay in the home, but you must go on and live your own life...” her words dissipated as she dug through the deep pockets sewn into her dress, obviously searching for something. Finally she produced a simple burlap pouch that clinked with the telltale sound of coins. Your eyes widened at the idea of her carrying so much money with her for such a short trip, and then you realized that it was for you.

“Oh no, I can’t-” the old woman pushed the bag into your hands anyway, leaving no room for your protests. The bag was heavy in your hand, and a feeling of anxiety at having so many coins sprouted in your chest. 

“I save for every child to give them something on the day they leave. That money is all yours. I don’t expect a single coin back, so don’t even try.” Beatrice’s words were firm as she led you onto the train platform. More and more people were gathering around, making it clear that the scheduled time for the train must have been drawing closer. 

“Thank you,” you finally mustered just before the incoming train sounded its horn and began to slow on the tracks. You held both the suitcase and the pouch of coins tight to your body as Beatrice pulled you into one more bone-crushing hug, her thin frame melding into you without care for the objects between you. She smoothed down the back of your hair with a gentle pat, and before you knew it you were being pushed into the train by waves of travelers. 

----

The train ride to the next town over was rather quick, as you spent most of it worrying over locating the pharmacy and the old woman. As you left the train, still holding your suitcase and pouch of coins so close to your body that your arms had begun to ache, a warm breeze met you. Wind ghosted over your face, brushing at the curves of your face and pushing your hair away from the back of your neck. The push of the air against your skin calmed you enough to lead you away from the bodies pouring out of the train and toward your new home. 

You faltered in your path once departing the train station, unsure which way to walk to come across the pharmacy. The thought of asking a passing citizen for help entered your mind and then quickly dissipated. If you were going to live here, you may as well begin to familiarize yourself with the layout now. 

It was a sunny afternoon, bringing families out of their homes and shop owners onto their front sidewalks to tout their products and converse with passing customers. With the sun right above your head, the rays beating onto your scalp made you feel a bit dizzy, the air thick with humidity as it clung to your skin. A knot built in your stomach the more you wandered, eyeing up the town’s bank, biggest restaurant, a few small clothing shops, and a doctor’s office. The layout of the town was similar to your own, but the streets were bustling with well dressed families, and you suddenly felt insecure in your grass-stained hand me down dress. A particularly wealthy looking family brushed past you as you meandered closer to what you figured was the center of town. The older child sent you a snide look, eyes widening at the state of your tattered suitcase and dirty shoes. 

A currently empty schoolhouse stood a few feet taller than the one in your hometown, a pair of children sitting on the concrete steps and tossing stones between their hands in some kind of game you didn’t recognize. They smiled as you passed, stopping their game just long enough to regard the stranger strolling through their town. Kiddy corner to the schoolhouse, you spotted the brick walled general store. Beams of sunlight broke over the ceiling of the building, blinding you momentarily as you approached it. With a hand over your eyes, you finally regained your vision at the same time you rounded the corner sidewalk of the store. Just to the left of you was a similarity built brick building, boasting painted block letters spelling “Pharmacy”. A surge of excitement sped through your body upon finding your destination. Hands shaking, you approached the ornate door and pulled, hearing the bell tinkle from above you. 

The shop you entered was just as you had expected; tonic bottles and boxes of medication stacked onto oak shelves with handwritten price tags hanging below them. The red and white tiled floor below your feet was squeaky clean and shined underneath the bright lights hanging off the ceiling. As you approached the counter, you noticed that the building was seemingly empty. 

“Hello?” You called, voice loud as a firework in the vacant building. There was a shuffling noise from somewhere behind the counter, then a groan, then the abrupt scrape of metal against tile. A small, quite frail looking woman bellied up to the counter. She wore tiny round spectacles that rested delicately on her dotted nose, and a flowery apron that tied loosely around her waist.  

“What can I do for you?” She asked, hazarding you an odd glance as if she were trying to decipher if you were someone she knew and had simply forgotten. “Forgive me dear, but I don’t know your last name to retrieve your things...”

“Oh, that’s because I’m uh, from the 4th Street Orphanage. Beatrice told me that she had spoken to you about me?” Your fingers were slippery with sweat as you awaited her response. Her eyes lit up with recognition and then suddenly fell with a sigh. 

“Oh yes, yes, I know of you, dear...it’s just, there’s an issue with the arrangement I had made with Beatrice. You see, my dear nephew has fallen into similar straights as you...no where to go, in need of a room...” A hot iron of anxiety drove straight through your chest at her words. You knew exactly where they were going. 

“You see, family must come first, dear. And he’s already moved in.” One of her aged hands came up to adjust her glasses, the other laying across her chest apologetically as she gazed up at you. 

“I see,” you nodded politely, holding back the anxious tears sprouting along your eyelashes. Where were you supposed to go now? You had no backup plan, and Beatrice surely hadn’t anticipated anything this horrible to go wrong. “Do you happen to know if there’s a hotel around?” You asked, voice wavering and clipped. The old woman nodded calmly, giving you simple directions that would lead you back the way you’d came and to the only lodging the town had to offer. 

----

Checking into the hotel was easy enough thanks to your newly acquired bag of coins. The owner of the place had shown you around, and now you were sat idly in your rented room. An old four posted oak bed with simple white sheets and two duck-feather stuffed pillows was about all the luxury you were afforded. A simple wardrobe, whose wood was chipped and scratched on the legs, held what little you had brought along in your suitcase. The only saving grace of the room was the two large windows and the thin white curtains that attempted to cover them. Strong beams of sunlight were criss-crossing the room, giving it an ethereal glow that almost made up for the lack of comfort. Right now, you had both windows wide open, allowing the heat and sounds of people conversing to flow in and out as it pleased. Your face was dry now, all of your tears having been shed on your short walk from the Pharmacy to the hotel. As you gazed out the window, you tipped your head up to the clear blue sky. 

If only I could live up there; you thought. No money, no worries, no stress about what to eat in a day or when to wash your clothes. All you’d have to worry about up there was which cloud to lay on and what days it was going to rain. It was a silly, childish thought; but it helped calm you nonetheless. You hoped that if anyone was really living in the sky-perhaps like something in a fairytale book that had been donated to the orphanage when you were young- that they were happy, and felt as light and airy as they could. 

The longer you stared out of the window, the more you became saddened at the thought that you were never going to be able to magically disappear into the clouds. It was beyond all logic.

After a while, your stomach growled in protest, inspiring you to make a cautious trip down to the kitchen of the hotel to inquire about when dinner would be served. Much to your joy, you had arrived only five minutes before the beginning of serving. The few other people living in the hotel greeted you kindly but made no attempt at further conversation. Perhaps they had noticed the status of your dress and decided that they didn’t have time to speak with someone in your state. The thought pulled at your heart strings, causing you to question if you’d ever be able to forge a life on your own.

Once the food was available, you ate quickly and quietly, barely registering the taste of the soup and buttered bread that had been on the menu. Your earlier interactions made you self conscious, and you wished for nothing more than to sink into the seat of the oak chair you sat upon. The night was still quite young by the time you’d washed up and gotten ready for bed, but as you had nowhere to be you allowed yourself an early bedtime. You lit a small candle next to your bedside; not for the light it provided, but simply for the comfort of the flickering flame.

Dusk had begun to creep into the summer sky as you got under the comforter of the bed. A faint purple haze colored the sky, the warm breeze still as strong as it had been the entire day. A part of you had forgotten that today was your 18th birthday. None of your birthdays had ever been extravagant, but today had come and gone so hecticly that you didn’t even have a chance to enjoy being an adult. A sting of upset rocketed through your veins and you allowed yourself to wallow in it for a moment; to feel bad for yourself and your situation and the fact that the only thing you got for your birthday was a goodbye to the only life you’d ever known.

You clamped your eyes tight against the world, trying to curb your anger at the world as best as you could. With your arm over your eyes you could almost convince yourself that everything was okay, that nothing had gone wrong when you arrived at town this afternoon and you weren’t dreadfully lonely.

Just as you were about to stand and look down upon the chattering streets, a loud creak resonated through the room. It was unlike the cream that came from the bed you laid on or the door to the room. It sounded much more akin to the sound that the panes of the windows had made when you first pushed them open a few hours ago. Suddenly sweating, you laid totally still, hoping that what or who ever was trying to enter your room would walk away peacefully.

Moments passed, and you heard no new noises. Surprising even yourself, you sat up quickly and fearlessly, opening your eyes in a flash to scan the room.

“Who are you?” You yelled and then immediately regretted. What awful last words, you thought. The creak had apparently been borne from the arrival of a man, who looked just about your age, propped casually on your windowsill. Even in the odd lighting you could tell he was handsome, the sharp cut of his jaw and delicate drop of his nose leading into the curve of his Cupid’s bow were illuminated by the candle you’d lit before. The sight of a man so perfect made your heartbeat kick into overdrive.

His dark brown hair was fluffy, curled and sticking up at points in a charmingly messy way. He was dressed in simple white clothing unlike anything you were used to seeing around your city. The shirt he wore was long-sleeved but thin, form fitting enough to allow you a hint of the smooth movement of his muscles. A few small white buttons were open at the neck, giving off a glimpse of glowing, warm skin. You were almost disappointed that you couldn’t see more of him from this angle, but you were also far too nervous to change the way you were sitting.

Oddly, there was no feeling of anxiety running through your veins anymore. Although this young man had blatantly broken into your room and was sitting unnervingly still at the window, you felt no traces of anxiety. Something about him seemed oddly familiar although you couldn’t place why. Obviously you would have remembered a presence such as his but you came up empty. 

He stood from the windowsill now, making steps that somehow managed not to create a single sound as he approached the bed. 

“I’m Hueningkai,” his voice was even and soothing, gentle to your ears. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here... and how I found you.” You swallowed the anxious lump in your throat and finally made eye contact with him. His eyes were shimmering, a hint of amusement winking from behind his dark irises. 

“What do you mean? Do I know you?” 

“Ah, not quite,” he gave a small shy smile. “I do know you, though, Y/N.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he continued speaking anyway. “I come from a place that exists just beyond the world you know. We simply call it the Five Kingdoms- one for every element known to humans. My family has ruled the Kingdom of Caeli for many eons. In fact I-“ he stopped to scratch at the back of his neck, cheeks going uncharacteristically rosy. “I am the prince of Caeli, and my father is in his final days. He sent me to find you.”

Your head spun. This had to be some kind of trick, a clever rouse to lure you into some kind of danger. But you couldn’t shake the fact that Hueningkai seemed familiar; warm and believable in his words. It was really no shock to you that another world behind your own existed. In fact, the idea of escaping the world as you know it was exhilarating.

“What is Caeli- if you don’t mind my asking. It’s not an element that I find familiar.” A blush crept along the apples of your cheeks at asking such a daft question. Hueningkai allowed an easy smile that scrunched up the fat of his cheeks charmingly.

“It means air.” He answered simply before waiting as if to see if you had any further questions.

“What did you mean that your father sent you to find me? Surely there’s no way he knows who I am. I’ve never heard of you, after all. And I don’t live a very extraordinary life,” you chucked a little as you glanced around the hotel room that seemed even more drab with Hueningkai inside of it.

“You see, as a kingdom we have many prophesies, all of which are sacred guiding principles to the actions of our people. In fact all five kingdoms have these, but right now the ones of my people are most important. For many generations the men of my family have been carrying the information of a certain prophecy that tells the story of a young girl from earth visiting Caeli. She is supposed to be kind, quaint...” he trailed off for a moment, ghosting his eyes over your figure. “And her parents are to have been from Caeli as well. She is meant to return to the Kingdom and help us fulfill her prophecy.”

You nodded despite the knot forming between your eyebrows. He was certainly insinuating that the girl from the prophecy was supposed to be you, hence why you had found him here. And you wished nothing more than to believe him, but there was one massive problem.

“Well, my parents are-”

“Passed away, yes. I never knew them but my mother and father did. You and I were born in the same year but your parents left shortly before your birth to experience life on Earth. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but ever since I first heard the prophecy I wanted to meet you. Not only am I fascinated by Earth but the idea that my-” he stopped himself short, reddening again before clearing his throat. “Essentially, I’m here to collect you as the prophecy indicates. Of course, if you truly do wish to stay here...” he skimmed the surroundings with a skeptical eye. You figured that whatever royal quarters he came from was much grander than this. “I will not force you to come along.” 

“I-hold on,” you finally moved from the spot on the bed you’d been somewhat rooted to to rummage through your suitcase. In the single pocket sewn into the lining you had stashed the only photo you’d ever seen of your parents. 

“Here,” you offered the photo to Hueningkai with shaky hands. He picked up the weathered film and carefully scrutinized it. “Do you...recognize them? I know you said you never knew them but I just-”

“No, no. This is them. Your parents. In the castle we keep a detailed record of everyone who has lived in Caeli, and I’ve certainly seen their faces.” A surge of excitement bolted through you at the confirmation and it was enough to make up your mind about leaving. If this place was truly where your parents had been from, there was no way you couldn’t explore it given the chance. Decisively you began to fold your clothing back into your suitcase, blushing slightly at the thought of Hueningkai watching you. 

“So I take it you’re coming back with me?” He giggled a bit as you zipped the suitcase with fervor. When you whirled around again, clutching the cracking leather case, you saw that his eyes were sparkling, lips upturned in a gentle smirk.

“Oh yes, yes I’m coming with you. Uh, lead the way?”

——

The walk from your hotel room to the inconspicuous patch of tall grass that Hueningkai led you to was brisk. He kept an amazingly quick gait, breezing by all of the curious looks the two of you received as you breezed through town.

Now, the moon shone high above your bodies in the field, clearly illuminating the grass brushing against your knees. Hueningkai waved you forward through the grass patch and into the gradually thickening trees. The scent of dirt and leaves invaded your nose as you walked to an unknown location. At a seemingly random tree Hueningkai stopped and looked back at you.

“Take a step back, just in case,” he warned kindly the corners of his eyes scrunching. You did as you were told as he began to mutter something that you didn’t quite catch in time to comprehend. Right before your eyes the simple tree shifted, doubling in width and opening forward like a swinging door. Inside of it laid a beautiful wooden staircase that gleamed in the setting light of the sun. It seemed to go on forever, stretching upwards in an infinite fashion to a nondescript white light. Hueningkai took the first step easily before turning to look at you over his shoulder, encouraging you with a nod of his head. 

You suddenly felt hyper aware of your body, the beating of your heart loud in your ears and the tingling of your fingers feeling like sparks of lightning. Goosebumps rose all across your skin as the two of you ascended the stairs, approaching closer and closer to the white light at the top. It had become so blinding that you had to squint your eyes closed and hope that your feet didn’t miss a step on the way up. 

A few moments after shutting your eyes you felt a shift in the ground below you. It felt much softer than the solid wood of the stairs, and you could even sense that the scent lingering in the air had changed into something you could only describe as pure. Hueningkai laid a gentle, steady hand on your shoulder. 

“We’re here,” you could hear the smile on his face before you even opened your eyes. You instantly became grateful for that, as the sight presented in front of you captured all of your attention. The soft ground that you’d felt before was evidently a literal cloud; fluffy and white and cushioning the soles of your feet with the most luxurious feeling you’d ever experienced. A few feet ahead, you could see the beginnings of a town like the one you knew on Earth, except the buildings were all made of a beautiful white-gray material that appeared almost like marble. What you could see from there was built grandly, tall and wide and intricate in their structure. Everything was blanketed in the same hazy glow of the sunset that you were admiring just minutes before. 

Hueningkai let you marvel for a moment before he gently urged you along with a hand on your lower back. The pair of you walked past many citizens of Caeli, whom nodded or bowed politely at the sight of their prince. The thought made your face flush. Here you were- a simple, orphaned girl who until just minutes ago was helpless- flanked by the handsome and dignified prince of Caeli. You caught the eyes of a few people before shying away, noting the confusion poorly hidden behind their polite smiles. Hueningkai was immune to it all; waving kindly as he led you through the soft terrain. 

Finally his footsteps slowed at the presence of large gates and grey brick walls. Clouds gathered around the fence the same way that grass bunched around walls, reminding you for a moment of being back at the orphanage and laying in the garden for hours. The gates opened instantly, revealing the castle behind them in all its glory. It was sparkling in a way that was surely magical, every single brick and window glimmering down at you bathed in the warm orangey-pink glow of sunset. Clouds gathered tightly around the base of this building too, creeping slightly up the side of the turrets the same way ivy would. 

Guards dressed in shiny silver armor accompanied by similarly dressed horses. Upon seeing Hueningkai approaching they stood at salute, one frantically pulling at the chain which pulled open the gate to the main entrance. Your face grew ever hotter as you stepped inside of the castle, instantly greeted by ornate marble on every single wall. The floor beneath you was made of the same material but swirling in alternate colors of blue, black and white. In the middle of the room was a large staircase that wound upwards in two separate directions. It was obvious that the room extended back underneath the staircase too, and that was the direction in which Hueningkai lead you toward. His shoes clicked off of the marble pleasantly while yours seemed to do nothing but slide noiselessly against it. 

You’d never felt more unconscious of your clothing, as you knew for a fact that the dress you were wearing right now had a clearly stitched together tear somewhere around the left shoulder. In the brighter lighting of the castle you could tell that Hueningkai’s clothing was expensive and carefully crafted. When he finally stopped walking it was at the door of what was obviously a throne room, as two large thrones covered in velvet blue coverings were sitting at the front of the room, slightly elevated above the smooth flooring. A large portrait framed in silver hung on the wall to the left of the thrones, depicting Hueningkai’s family but several years younger, as evidenced by the boyish shape of his face within the frame. 

It seemed to you that there was no one within the room, but a voice suddenly sounded from a corner you couldn’t see. It was light and airy, obviously belonging to a woman. You heard the clink of heels against marble before a short, thin woman with graying hairs and a face scrunched in worry appeared right in front of the two of you. Instinctively you tried to hide behind Hueningkai’s taller frame before she could spot you but you could tell that your attempt was unsuccessful as soon as she let out a surprised squeal. 

“Oh, you’ve found her! And convinced her to come! Oh, honey, your father will be so happy to see you both,” she grabbed his hands jovially and you quickly gathered that she was his mother. Reluctantly you stepped away from the cover of his body, brushing your arm against his own in your haste. Her face melted instantly upon seeing you fully. 

“Oh, hello Y/N! We are so happy to have you back after all this time. Come on, you two,” she grasped your hand in her pleasantly warm one and lead you back the way you’d come. Hueningkai kept up behind the two of you, snickering under his breath when you turned your head back to give him a pleading stare. He simply shrugged at his mothers actions as you made it to the top of the marble steps. Down one more winding hallway you traveled, nodding politely at everything Hueningkai’s mother told you until you reached another grand wooden door that was guarded by another armored guard. He moved away immediately and bent into a bow. 

The inside of this room was considerably darker although still covered in the same blue and silver that seemed to have been the running theme of the castle. In the middle laid a large four poster bed with a man laid in the middle. He was obviously sick-large purple bags were under his eyes and a cloth laid across his forehead. His eyes were closed as you entered the room, and they didn’t open until Hueningkai’s mother gently shook him. You had noticed that Hueningkai was standing extremely rigid next to you. His eyes were glossed in a layer of unshed tears at the sight of his father in his sickbed. 

“Hello, son,” the man said weakly. Hueningkai stepped forward then to sit gingerly at the foot of the bed. In the short time you’d known him he had seemed nothing short of royal and composed, but in this very moment he looked like a child who’d just woken from a nightmare. He conversed quietly with his father before turning his angular face toward you. An awed look crossed his face for a second before he schooled it back to normal and beckoned you forward with a smile. Unable to resist it, you carefully treaded closer to the bed and stood beside Hueningkai. His father smiled to the best of his ability. 

“Welcome back to Caeli, dear. I’m sure you’ve been filled in fairly well-” he paused to take a deep, shaky breath. “ We have waited many years after the news about your parents for the day you could come back. I couldn’t be happier to finally have you here and to see you alongside my son. The two of you are going to be such a lovely couple, don’t you think, dear?” Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and suddenly your mouth had gone dry. Surely the old man was going crazy from his sickness, surely he hadn’t just said that...

“Oh, I couldn’t agree more. She looks so much like her mother, doesn’t she? I should look for those pictures of us together, don’t you think?” Hueningkai’s mother enthused as she moved about the room, opening the drawers of a dresser with fervor. 

You were still reeling at the idea of you and Hueningkai becoming a couple, as it was the first you’d heard of it. Meekly you turned your head to the boy in question to see that his cheeks were as rosy as you assumed they could get, head slightly bowed as he tried to avoid your gaze. Part of you wanted to question him immediately, put him on the spot in front of his parents and figure out why he had decided to neglect that fairly large piece of information. 

But one glance at the content smile on his fathers face and the way his mother was chattering excitedly stopped the words in your throat. 

“I- we should go, uh, look at the prophecy, I’m sure she’s curious,” Hueningkai stuttered, suddenly springing up from the bed and bumping into you in the process. Both of his parents stopped their actions and regarded the two of you before nodding their approval. He grabbed blindly for your hand for a moment before lacing his fingers between yours. His palm was just as clammy as your own and the thought calmed you a bit as you sped out of the room. Neither of you spoke as he led you back the way you’d came, passing by the wide staircase and leading you down another lengthy hallway. 

The room you found yourself in this time was not guarded but was obviously important. Dim lighting illuminated what looked a bit like a library with shelves filled with thickly bound leather books. Hueningkai dropped your hand finally and you saw his shoulders heave as he took a deep breath before turning to face you. His cheeks were still slightly rosy, having only toned down a bit during travel. 

“I’m so sorry they brought that up,” he rushed out. “I didn’t tell you about that part of the prophecy because-well, I figured it would scare you away. I told them before I left not to force it on you, that you’d already be in enough shock about the whole thing- and I wasn’t sure if you’d have someone on earth or even like me so I just-” 

“Hueningkai,” you finally tried to get a word in edgewise and he looked stunned that you already had something to say. “I’m not upset with you. Or your parents, really. I-I don’t mind the idea of-” you stopped, frustration bubbling in your gut as you tried to string the right words together. “I think you’re quite handsome.” 

His Adam’s apple bobbed wildly in his throat for a second before a wide grin began to split his face. The rosiness in his cheeks seemed to have dissipated at your words and instead a satisfied glow shone on his face. Coolly, he brushed a hand through his hair and exposed even more of his exceptionally smooth skin. You hadn’t been lying. He was easily the most attractive person you’d ever met, and there was no denying the allure of his handsome features especially here in the cozy, dimly lit room. The stare he had leveled on you was steady, unwavering as he roamed a path from your eyes, down to your lips, even further down to your body, and then back up to your eyes. Suddenly shy, you drew in on yourself, tucking your hands underneath your armpits and looking away. 

“Well, it just so happens that I find you quite beautiful as well,” he spoke cheekily as his gentle fingertips traced their way across your left shoulder before resting at the apex of your neck. The warmth radiating from his hand made you smile, loosening your hold on yourself until your arms fell at your sides. Shamelessly, you stared right back at him; examining the pink petals of his lips and the honey rich tone of his skin. All time seemed to have stopped as the two of you stood and watched one another, breathing in sync. For a fleeting moment you wondered if he was feeling the same rush of nervous adrenaline to kiss you as you were feeling for him. 

Despite your experience with anything romantic, your body was screaming out to feel him closer to you, to feel the soft glide of his lips against yours or the way he would hold you tightly against his chest-

“Come on,” he giggled, and you suddenly realized that he must have been speaking to you while you daydreamed. Your eyes widened apologetically as you finally got your feet to move after his own. Off of a shelf so high that even he had to rise onto his tippytoes to reach it, Hueningkai produced a thick book bound in gray leather. He dusted off the cover and propped the book open in his hands. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen before. The words were written in a glimmering silver ink that almost jumped off the page as you read it, and almost every paragraph was accompanied by a large, extremely detailed illustration. Hueningkai seemed to know exactly where to find what he was looking for, as he whipped through several pages before finally settling on what appeared to be the start of a new story. 

The title page boasted mostly words that you didn’t understand due to the fact that you hadn’t been given much practice in reading beyond basic words. Luckily Hueningkai was too busy to catch the embarrassed flush growing from the collar of your dress to the top of your forehead. 

“This is your prophecy, look!” He shoved the book toward you and you caught it with unsure hands, looking down at the first illustrations which depicted the birth of a baby and then an image of the same child having grown into a young girl. You flipped to the next page and recognized something immediately. 

“That butterfly,” you jabbed a fingernail toward the page excitedly. “I’ve seen it before- its come into the garden at the orphanage so many times-” Hueningkai laughed shyly, rubbing a hand over his eyes. 

“That’s because I sent it down to you. For a while I didn’t have the ability to visit earth, and I was always jealous of not being able to check on you when your prophecy seemed so important-” he stopped to scratch the back of his neck and you realized he must be alluding to the prophesied relationship. “So my father suggested I send a butterfly down to report back.” 

The thought made your heart swell. For a moment you imagined a younger Hueningkai bargaining with the beautiful and unique butterfly to keep an eye on you and report back to him. 

“Must have been some boring reports,” you joked as you turned to the next page to see an image which depicted you entering Caeli. 

“Oh, no, never! I loved learning about you. The butterfly was quite secretive at first, but before long it easily spilled everything to me. That was how I knew where to find you tonight.” 

It had to have been true, as you recalled seeing the butterfly resting on the windowsill of your bedroom as you packed up your belongings to move. 

The next page you flipped to had to be one of the last, as it showed the image of a girl being embraced by a royal family, wedding gown and veil firmly in place. You swallowed the lump in your throat and gingerly took in the next image which depicted the man and woman sitting in the same thrones you’d seen before, wearing elegant crowns and smiling down at a room full of citizens. Surely the words afforded more information but you didn’t bother with trying to understand them. 

Hueningkai took back the book and returned it to its shelf. 

“Now that you’ve seen the...ending,” he cringed at his own words, “I hope you understand why my parents brought it up. They’ve been waiting for this moment since I was born. I had been told this story so many times, but when I realized the prince destined to be married to the girl from earth-you- was actually me? I-I couldn’t wait to meet you. It surely is a shame that your parents passed away so young and you ended up in the orphanage.”

Your face must have turned sour because he instantly recoiled, doubling back on his words. 

“Oh! No, I don’t mean that you’re lesser- I just mean that we could have met sooner had your parents lived. I couldn’t care less where you’ve lived the last eighteen years,” he whispered, sensing the fallen edges of your face. “Truly, you are just as wonderful to me in hand me down clothes as you would be in the finest silks. The most important thing is that you’re finally here, and I can learn about you without the help of an insect. I hope you stay for a while.”

You let out a laugh and his shoulders sagged with relief. With a surge of unfounded confidence you wrapped your arms tightly around his midsection, pressing your face flat against his broad chest and muttering;

“I’m glad we finally met, too, Hueningkai. And I won’t be going anywhere.” 

----

“Y/N? Are you in here?” Hueningkai called as he walked into what had become your bedroom when you arrived. He was dressed in his finest suit, a light blue jacket with matching trousers layered over a white button up with ruffles around the collar. His hair was styled away from his face, boasting all of his strong features for anyone to see. For once your clothing matched his own; a flowing light blue dress with layers of fluff at the skirt that made it hard to sit down. Thankfully you had been allowed to forgo the corset, but the top of your dress was still comfortably snug around your stomach and chest. For the first time in your life you were wearing a small bit of makeup and an updo as well as a pair of small heels. 

Today was the day you were to finally be introduced to the people of Caeli. Ever since your arrival you had been squirreled away in the castle- not that you were complaining- and had become a distant memory to the few citizens who had seen you arrive weeks ago. In that time, Hueningkai’s father had recovered from whatever sickness had ailed him when you came, and most citizens were too overjoyed with that news to bother worrying about you. 

But now you had to worry about them. Hueningkai’s mother had been kind enough to tell you stories about your parents and teach you the basic customs of Caeli without ever pushing you to change who you were. She laughed at your jokes and the way you scarfed down whatever food was put in front of you and never once suggested that you fix your etiquette. 

“What if they don’t like me?” You asked as soon as Hueningkai was within your line of sight. A feeling of dread had been bubbling in your stomach since yesterday morning and was the cause of your sleepless night. “I mean I’m just...a random stranger that waltzed in and is now living in the castle...what if someone has a crush on you and they hate me for being real?” You gasped at the thought of some scorned teenage girl hurling a shoe toward your head as you were presented. 

Hueningkai sighed. “They will love you, Y/N. The entire kingdom has been awaiting your arrival, for the prophecy to be fulfilled. You are kind, and smart and understanding and beautiful. And if they don’t like you then too bad. I like you, and that’s all that matters. None of them would dare to go against the word of the Prince.” 

Your heart hammered wildly against your ribs at his words. There was no denying that you’d grown closer and closer to him as you spent so much time around the castle. The small kindling of a crush you’d had on him when you first met had turned into a raging fire of infatuation. 

He brought a hand up to your face and gently cupped your flushed cheek. Instinctively you nuzzled in closer, relishing in the feeling of his touch. “You are still the most wonderful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. And if my kingdom fails to notice that, then they’re at fault.” His voice had barely come above a whisper but it sent a noticeable chill down your spine. Hueningkai drifted his thumb over your bottom lip gently, rubbing at the bitten flesh there. Your eyelids fluttered quickly, trying to keep focus on his face as he inched closer. 

“Can I kiss you?” He finally murmured. You nodded and mumbled a rushed yes before you could even comprehend the movement. Your body was buzzing as if it were filled with bees, but you kept your lidded eyes focused on him as he descended. Before you knew it he had attached his lips to your own and they were just as soft and supple as you always imagined. He was clearly testing the waters with a small peck, but it left you yearning for more as you captured him in a passionate kiss that had your fingers curling into the nape of his neck. 

“That was,” he finally spoke again, wiping at his now swollen lips with the back of his hand. Your chests were both heaving with the unbridled adrenaline you had just experienced. A feeling of warmth, one that had become so common around Hueningkai that you barely registered it, rippled through your body and calmed your frayed nerves. Hueningkai grabbed your hand firmly, fingers curling between yours in a perfect fit of palms, and lead you out of your room toward the front gate of the castle. A new, unknown chapter of your young life was just beginning in the one place you never thought possible, but the one thing you were sure of was that Hueningkai would always be by your side. 

#hueningkai #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai fic #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai imagine #txt #txt fluff #txt fic #txt fanfic #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai angst #txt au #txt angst #txt x reader #txt imagine #txt imagines #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together fluff #tomorrow x together fic #tomorrow x together fanfic #tomorrow x together angst #tomorrow x together x reader #hueningkai txt #hueningkai scenarios #hueningkai scenario #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios

[ethereal-bang]

Mr. Big Shot

REQUESTS: OPEN 

Characters: Seo Changbin + Female Reader

Words: 3.2k (I got carried away lol) 

Type: Smut, some fluff, angst if you squint

Warnings: dom!Changbin, brat!reader, slight degradation, orgasm denial, oral (both parties giving + receiving), unprotected penitrative sex (use protection always!), general hard dom themes, Changbin is kinda conceited at first but it’ll be ok don’t worry 

This is a piece of fiction and is not suitable for anyone UNDER THE AGE OF 18. 

Summary: You run into the hot shot producer on campus at a frat party, who seems to take a liking to you, the only person who doesn’t care. 

________________________________________________________________

You don’t even like frat parties.

The LED lights that are somehow always a dark blue, the more than slightly used furniture that has no doubt been passed down a generation or two, not to mention the obnoxious antics of drunk, stressed college kids? Not your thing. In fact, the only reason why you were here was because of your roommate Rose, who had her eye on Bang Chan, a member of the frat who’s kitchen you were currently sitting in. By yourself, with a drink in hand. It isn’t even good alcohol, either; just some sad excuse of an Amaretto Sour that was not even giving you a nice buzz. 

It’s around midnight at this point, and the party is in full swing. Couches in the living room were pushed against the walls to ensure ample room for dancing, sweaty bodies clinging to each other and grinding to the beat playing out of the speakers set up in the main room. You look around the room and you see a few people you recognize from your classes, but most remain unfamiliar to you. 

ADK (Alpha Delta Kappa) was one of, if not the biggest (and most popular) frat on campus. Their parties were always crowded, mixing top 40s hits with some original music that the music production majors of the house compose themselves. The parties almost always ended up lasting until sunrise, and you can only take pity on their neighbors, who have to deal with the noise so late into the night.

You, however, had no intention for staying that long. Getting annoyed, you pushed your way through the sea of people in search of Rose, to let her know you were going home. As you walk through the crowd, finally spotting your roommate and heading her way, someone grabs you by the arm and spins you around to face them.

“Can I help you?” you ask, attitude through the roof as if someone thought they could just grab you like that. “Well, you sure seem to be in a hurry. I’m just trying to keep you company,” the man says with a charming (read: aggravating) smile. You look up at him in annoyance and also confusion. You’re pretty sure you’ve never seen this guy in your life.

He looked to be one of those snobby rich kids; his hair dyed silver and styled oh-so-perfectly, complemented by a button down that you could clearly tell was designer. His shoulders were broad, and his skin a glowing tan that actually would’ve made him look like the sun itself, if his smile wasn’t so smug.

“I’m..sorry, do I know you?” You ask, and his expression goes from smug to shocked in under three seconds. “You don’t know who I am?” He asks, unconvinced. “Yeah, I have no idea who you are. Sorry, maybe you mistook me for someone else.” you say. You try to leave, but his grip is still on your wrist, and you’re forced to turn back round. Wanting nothing more than to clock the man standing in front of you, you huff and give him a piercing glare. “Let go of me,” you insist. He smirks and let’s go of your wrist, but for some reason the look he’s giving you makes you freeze on the spot. “My name is Changbin. Give me one dance sweetheart, that’s all I’m asking,” he says, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Changbin...you were racking your brain trying to figure out why that name sounded so familiar to you. And then it hit you.

Seo Changbin is a member of AKD, and a friend of Chan’s. You figured he must be the Spear B that everyone on campus raves about, and now you know where his cocky demeanor is coming from. Girls and guys alike fall for all 3 members of 3racha. You had never met Changbin before, so it was no surprise you didn’t recognize him right away. Up until now, he was almost like a piece of folklore; everyone had a story about him but you were pretty sure he didn’t exist. 

This would be a bad idea. Giving into him. You knew it would be. But regardless, he was attractive, and it doesn’t hurt to have a little fun every once in a while, right?

He watched your resolve slowly crumble as he stuck out his hand. Taking it, he pulls you onto the dance floor (well...the spot of the living room that was turned into one anyway) and doesn’t hesitate to turn you around, feeling your back come into contact with his broad chest. 

There’s an upbeat pop song playing through the DJ speakers, and you start to sway your hips along to the beat while trying to distract yourself from the arousal that's starting to creep in as you feel Changbin’s arms snake around your waist, pushing your hips against his. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” you say, remembering that you hadn’t even told him your name. You can feel his breath ghosting against your neck as he brings his mouth to your ear. “So, Y/N,” he asks, “you really didn’t recognize me did you?” he asked, the feign hurt in his tone making you roll your eyes. “You know, you’re not all that special Mr. Big Shot,” you say, chuckling under your breath.

“Hmm and how can you say that? This is the first time we’ve met, doll. Can’t think you’d know everything about me just yet.” he says, and the use of the nickname sets you on fire. His hips have started moving to match your own, and you would be lying if the pressure you were starting to feel on your lower back didn’t spur you on to tease him a little, moving your hips away from him now and again only to have him pull you right back, turning you around to face him this time. “Aaanddd where do you think you’re going?” He laughs, and you roll your eyes at him. “Does it look like I’m going anywhere?” you say as you start moving your hips again. 

“Better lose the attitude baby, it’s gonna get you in trouble if you’re not careful,” he says, his eyes darkening as you wind your arms around his neck. “Will it now? No offense, but I don’t think you’ll be able to do much damage,” you say, although you can feel yourself breaking already as you have less than innocent thoughts running through your mind. 

“Is that a challenge I hear?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at your antics. “Does it sound like one?” you snap back, anticipating his next move.

Before you know it, Changbin’s lips are on your neck, his grip tightening on your waist exponentially. “Just remember: you asked for it.” he says against your ear as he pulls you from the living room and down the hallway of the AKD house. 

Once Changbin has you in his room, door locked, it’s game on. He immediately pushes you against the bedroom door and begins his attack on your neck once again. You want to keep your composure; make him think that you’re not that easy to break, wanting to make him work for it, but the way he moves his lips up your neck and finally to your lips is already making you want to surrender and let him have his way with you. He bites your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you immediately grant him. Kissing Changbin was different. It was red hot and every movement was making the knot of excitement in your stomach tighten. 

His hands slip under your shirt, and the feeling of them on your bare skin has you letting out the tiniest whimper. He pulls away from your lips with a smirk. “There it is..I know you’re starting to break baby, why don’t you just be good for me and do as you’re told, huh?” He teases, lifting your shirt up to touch more of your skin. “Not a chance,” you tell him, although your voice is already sounding breathy. You move to touch him over his jeans, his cock already hard. 

Changbin groans quietly and moves to grip your hair. He pulls your head back harshly, and laughs at the expression of pleasure on your face. “All I had to do was use a little force and you’re putty in my hands, baby.. I knew it. You like being bossed around don’t you?” He says, fingers moving under your skirt. “Answer me, slut.” He says, pulling your hair once more for good measure. “Yes sir,” you gasp, feeling every ounce of brat you had in you leaving your body. “That’s more like it,” he says, releasing your hair. “On your knees,” he orders, pushing your shoulders downward.

You immediately oblige, looking up at him with wide eyes as you undo his belt and pop the button of his jeans. Pulling his cock out from his underwear, you’re pleased with what you see. Changbin is surprisingly well endowed; long and rather thick, and you can’t help but imagine what he’ll feel like in your mouth. 

Grabbing the base of his cock, you give kitten licks to the head, pink and enticing. You hear Changbin groan and you make eye contact with him. “Stop teasing doll, you won’t like the outcome,” he growls, and that’s enough for you to take him as far into your mouth as you can, tip hitting the back of your throat. You make sure to run your tongue along the underside of his cock, tracing the vein and making sure he feels you on every inch of him. You start off a steady pace, Changbin’s fingers pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail. You suddenly relax your throat and take all of him, gagging slightly as he slides down your throat. “Jesus Christ,” the man says as he feels your throat around him. “You’re so good at this,” he says breathily and the praise spurs you to continue. Before you even get the chance, Changbin is setting the pace, fucking into your throat. Tears stream down your face at the roughness of it all, but the moan you let out around his dick lets Changbin know that you’re doing just fine.

Pulling you off of his cock, he sighs. “As much as I would love to cum down that pretty throat of yours, doll, I have other plans.” He says, picking you up and immediately making his way to his bed, laying you down on the soft pillows rather roughly. He’s over you in an instant, taking your shirt off as well as his own, and letting his eyes roam over your chest and the pretty pink lace that adorns you. “Hm, pink. It’s cute.” he says quietly and you blush, the compliment soft in contrast to the situation. You take a second to admire him, and it was just what you had imagined. Tan skin, muscles flexing as he’s moving over you. He lets his lips wander your collarbone, taking the skin into his mouth and sucking a dark purple spot that will definitely leave you thinking about him for days to come.

Taking one of your breasts in his hand, he enjoys the feeling of the lace under his hands. You arch your back slightly as he takes the nipple in between his fingers, twisting and pulling until it’s hard. He does the same to the other, and you almost want to start begging. It seems like he can read your mind as he moves you to sit up so he can take your bra off for you. He gets it in one try, and you’re not surprised. Once the piece of fabric is removed he replaces his fingers with his mouth, circling his tongue around your nipple and biting on it teasingly.

His kisses start trailing down your abdomen, sucking random marks into your skin that you know will end up bruising. You buck your hips up instinctively, silently begging for him to just touch you. Placing a hand on your stomach to hold your hips down, Changbin settles in between your legs, leaving kisses on your inner thighs as he pushes your skirt up. “Changbin,” you breathe, hoping he’ll just get the hint. “Yes, doll? What is it?” he says, opting to just take your skirt off, revealing the matching panties underneath. You lay there, refusing to beg and trying to hold onto whatever resolve you had left. “I won’t know what you want unless you use your words, baby. Come on,” he says, continuing the kisses on your thighs, fingers playing with the elastic of your underwear. Huffing, you finally give in.

“Please Changbin, I need you” you begin to beg, and he looks up at you. “You need me? Need me where, baby? Here?” he says, his lips moving closer to your core but not where you truly want them. “Need your tongue on my clit. Please,” you ask quietly and he finally pulls your panties down, throwing them somewhere. “I don’t know doll, doesn’t sound like you really want it,” he chuckles, and your cheeks go red as you realize just what he wants to hear.

“Please Changbin, I need your tongue so bad. I promise I will be so good..just..just please,” you basically whine the latter half of the sentence, hoping it’ll get your point across. “Now, was that so bad?” He says and finally licks a stripe up your clit, you moan out loud at the sensation, finally getting what you want. 

Changbin is relentless, lips and tongue moving in a way that you have never experienced before. Switching from flat licks against your heat to small kitten licks against your clit. You can feel the knot in your core tighten impossibly tight, and you almost can’t take it anymore.

Changbin knows your close, and pulls away from your pussy. His lips are glistening and he looks up at you with a smile when he hears you whine. “Please Changbin don’t st-stop,” you say, feeling sad as your high ebbs away slowly. “Mm I don’t know if you deserve it, you need to be punished for how bratty you were acting earlier..you realize that acting up means punishments, don’t you doll?” He says, fingers tracing patterns into your thighs, moving closer to your core to tease you even further. “Yes sir I understand.” You say, just hoping that he’ll eventually give you what you want.

“Good. Now, you’re not allowed to come until I tell you to. Understood?” He says, moving back to your clit. “I understand sir,” you say, throwing your head back as his tongue finally comes into contact with your core again.

Changbin edges you two, maybe three more times after that. Honestly, you stopped counting, just trying to focus on every ounce of pleasure that he’s giving you. It was truly torture. The only thoughts in your head were him, him, him, and you knew he was set on making sure that wasn’t going to change any time soon. At this point he already has two fingers inside of you, and you’re sure you’re going to explode until Changbin slows his ministrations at the last moment, edging you for the fourth time. He trails his fingers to your mouth. “Open,” he says and you immediately comply, cleaning his fingers off and sucking on them once for good measure.

“Are you ready for me, baby?” he asks, taking his jeans and underwear off, leaving the both of you completely naked. You nod your head furiously. “What’s your color doll? I need to make sure you’re okay with this,” he says as he runs the head of his cock through your folds. “Green, Sir fuck, just plea-” your sentence is cut off with a moan as Changbin finally pushes himself into you, going slowly to let you adjust. Once he’s bottomed out he leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss. Once the slight sting of the stretch has dissipated, the fire igniting in you grows stronger and you move your hips, signaling to him that you’re okay.

Changbin pulls all the way out and slams back in, your eyes rolling into the back of your head almost instantly. The drag of his cock against your walls is enough to have you seeing stars, finally satiating all of your desires. He sets a rough and steady pace, and it’s hard to keep yourself together. The room is filled with a mix of sounds; skin slapping against each other, your breathy whines and a grunt from Changbin every so often.

“Look at you doll, taking me so well. You were really made for my cock weren’t you? All mine to ruin and destroy.” he says in your ear, one hand going around your throat and applying slight pressure. It’s bringing you closer to the edge and Changbin knows it, snaking his free hand down to your body to rub harsh circles on your clit. “Go ahead baby, cum for me, let the whole house know who’s making you feel this good” He says as his pace quickens. 

His permission was all you needed, the knot coiling tight and finally breaking. Your vision goes white, and your legs are shaking as your orgasm finally washes over you, stronger than ever due to the four denied orgasms you’ve already had tonight. “Oh my god, Changbin,” you repeat over and over, riding out your high as he continues his rough pace. He was getting close too, the feeling of you contracting around his cock bringing him to the edge. He pulls out and flips you around, helping you get to your hands and knees before he inserts himself in you once again, the new position letting him fuck you harder than before. 

“I’m almost there baby, you think you can cum for me one more time?” he says with a grunt. You’re still sensitive from your first orgasm and you can definitely feel a second one approaching, babbling nonsense as Changbin starts to lose control. His thrusts become more erratic, and his hand is around your throat again, pulling you close to him as he fucks you into the mattress. 

Your second orgasm washes over you and the only thing you know how to say is his name. The feeling of your own orgasm finally pushes him over the edge too, groaning as he spills into you and helps you both ride out your highs. Once you’ve calmed down he pulls out of you, and you both fall to the mattress. 

Changbin pulls you into his arms, bringing your back against his chest, just how it was when you first met him earlier in the night. “That, was…” you say,  “Amazing.” Changbin finishes your sentence for you and it makes you giggle. Snuggling into you a little closer, you hear him laugh under his breath.

“I know this is a little backwards, but I was wondering if you’d let me take you to dinner tomorrow,” he says hesitantly. You turn around in his hold and place a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I..would love that, Changbin.” you say right before you succumb to the desire to sleep. The last thing you remember is a kiss on your forehead.

Your dreams seem to be filled with him, and when you wake up the next morning, seeing him bathed in the soft morning light, you feel content for the first time in a long time. And you welcome the change. 

Maybe Seo Changbin is all that special, and then some.

#writing this was simultaneously so much fun but also hurt me #I love dom binnie #also dedicating this to lovebini bc i brought frat party binnie to her ask box the other night and i can't get over it #tw hard dom themes #ryn's work: stray kids #ryn's work: changbin #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #binnie #seo changbin

[funkymbtifiction]

It is interesting how ENFP process of self-discovery is almost identical to INFP yet it is in reversed order. I love how you describe it as "a tree being whipped by the wind. The branches sway all over the place, gathering thoughts, ideas, concepts, possibilities, and sometimes the moisture never gets down to the trunk, which is where “I” am" I can almost picture it and it is quite fascinating how different but similar ENFP and INFP's perspectives are.

So, from that point am I correct to assume that introvert and extrovert with the same function (like INFP ENFP or ESTP ISTP) are only similar in how their functions appear like Ne-Fi and Fi-Ne will be similar to some extent but when look deeper into their core, like in how they self-discovery and self-perceiving, they are very different so INFP will be more similar in their core to ISFP than to ENFP?

IFPs are like a slice of life series' protagonist who travels alone and learning to know themselves better along the way, maybe help people too but remains mostly in the background, and be more mature alone, as a result, while EFPs are an adventurer who travels on the road and help people along the way through their solid action to see more of the world and discover new way of seeing things as well as who they are as a person.

The other point I find intriguing is how you describe yourself as being worse than you are and that you are very harsh on yourself. I usually am not hard on myself as much. I know I have judgmental streak. I can be callous and distant at times and I certainly am not a perfectly decent person but I believe in not being too harsh on myself because I possess those qualities. It is a part of myself and will always be a part of who I am. So I need to learn to balance them with other good qualities I possess. And to balance those bad qualities to become a better person, I need time and I can't rush it. So mostly I'm very aware of my bad qualities but usually don't over focus on it, because I know that in time I will be better person because and it's not possible to change who I am at my core. But I can temper my bad qualities to be more balanced. So, it doesn't bother me as much and I also prefer to go slowly, learning and tweaking.

But instead, I tear my hair over work performance and how I fail to do some simple management task competently. It might be inferior Te at work here. Laying out steps and visualizing goals are easy enough, but the extensive management and unexpected situations will throw me off pretty quickly, like a rocking boat. I learned to be more careful and thorough with planning (no unnecessary leaping because I can't competently make split second decision.) But something like product comparison, charging for service or resource-and-cost-oriented decision are still really tough and I usually have no clue how to do it on my own without external system. And when I actually do it, I feel really bad it always nags me in my mind Do I charge too much? If I decide not to take their product, will the producers have a hard time? Usually I resort to ask my ETJ and ESFP friends for help. 

I wish I have more Te though, but that means I might get into Te-grip. So it's fine, for now. I take your advice and try to utilize other people's systems and it works! 

So, if you are willing, may I ask what is your experience to your Tert Te? 

You can understand your introverted or extroverted counterpart extremely well, because you are using all the same functions, just in a different order of preference. It has shocked me at times how identical my thinking is to most of the INFPs I know, except that they are more grounded in Self and I am more "open" to alternative possibilities. So no, I would not say they are more similar to ISFPs than to ENFPs -- ISFPs are more similar to ESFPs than to INFPs. They have a similar need to self-reference, and similar problems with inferior Te, but that is where the resemblance ends.

ISFPs use Se, which makes them far more aware of concrete reality and how their actions have real world consequences, whereas INFPs are dreamy idealists who aren't always aware of "repercussions" because it doesn't occur to them to source the real world when it comes to sharing their values. ISFPs are more realistic, whereas INFPs have the same problem ENFPs have with being too idealistic. It's much the same with the other types as well -- an ISTP understands and 'gets' an ESTP but finds them too quick to act, and an ESTP gets an ISTP but finds them too slow to act, etc.

Regarding the self-recrimination... it comes from having double Enneagram 1 wings in my tritype and and rating extremely high on the Big Five test for Conscientiousness. Being a 2w1 fixer, I want to be helpful, generous, and kind and am hard on myself for not living up to being more selfless, patient, good, etc. A 3 fixer or a 4 fixer doesn't think this way. But yes, I am hard on myself for my mistakes and beat myself up for them on a regular basis (a friendship falls apart through no fault of my own? It must be my fault :P). I get lost in an inner vortex of what my perceived bad behavior says about my inner state of being and what kind of a person it makes me.

Do not recommend.

Let's see, tert Te. Well, I really have no problem whatsoever changing a plan and going with something else -- the perks of being a Ne-dom. I just look at what is available or what isn't working and go a different way. I use Te pretty confidently and casually most of the time, but I do get stressed at work where I have to be more exact, scheduled, and I can very easily get "overwhelmed" and not know what to work on first. I WANT to organize myself for efficiency, but it takes me a little time to figure out what task to do in what order, which would be the most efficient use of my time and energy. That's why I read so many "useful" books (I read way more of those than novels these days) -- books that tell me how to prioritize tasks, that tell me how to organize my kitchen shelves, that tell me how to do things, how to stop procrastinating, how to make the most of my time, etc. I don't remember half of it, but I can usually pick up one or two useful things and go with it. Like you, I'm not super confident in setting prices and I often think they are too high unless I compare them to what other people are offering; I think part of that is being a feeler (can they afford this?) and part of it is being a little unsure of myself.

I can explain a little bit of something I did recently that might help you to see what I "go through" on a daily basis -- as you know, I'm working on a MBTI book. I started out writing it chronologically and then halfway into a couple of profiles, I thought -- this is stupid. What I need to do is write an extensive overview of each dominant function, then take that information and change it in the context of each place it appears in a functional stack. For example, write up a long profile on Ni-dom, then how it looks under Te and Fe, then how it looks under Se, and finally, how it acts in an inferior position. This streamlined my process and helped me finish the first draft in only a few weeks -- but I did not think of it "before" I started the project, I figured it out WHILE I was working on the project and felt that my process was moving along too slow. That's how I have to use Te -- I need to get in and try things with Ne, and then bring in Te to balance it out, help me decide what order to do things in, and make decisions about quality, content, etc. Te is kind of automatic for me -- when a friend says, "I am going to buy a house," instantly I think -- is this person a good financial investment for a bank loan? But the actual implementation of Te (step by step procedures, goals, plans, etc) is harder for me, especially when it becomes tedious. It's way more fun to organize my DVD collection than to take care of my taxes. :P

#question #enfp #mbti #submission

[cherry-interlude]

Lana Del Rey Unreleased Ranked (2)

This is a re-ranking of Lana's unreleased songs, after making a first a few years ago. This is all my opinion, which I don't mind anyone disagreeing with but don't come for me for it - honestly, I like every song, despite any criticism, and this ranking is very vague. It's based on objective and subjective opinion.

This is the second of five posts, going past my least favourites.

Money Hunny

Lana details the downside of money, detailing the ways it ruins lives and causes more problems that good for some. However, it’s simplicity isn’t what makes Money Hunny fall short – it doesn’t resonate at all compared to Lana’s countless songs where she is either rich and famous or she is desperate for money (or men with money). As thought-provoking as Money Hunny is, it feels too twee and out of place in her money-adoring music to really hit hard. If Lana has spoken on the topic of how money can literally damage lives more, it would perhaps gel better with me, but with songs like Money Power Glory, National Anthem and Off To The Races (among many, many others), it doesn’t hit the mark as a Lana Del Rey (alternate names included) song.

Strangelove

Strangelove is hypnotising, from Lana’s mesmerising voice that gives her the impression of a Las Vegas desert temptress, seducing strangers and wishing for the simple pleasures of Christmas lights and mint juleps. It hits best for the first opening chorus.

Stoplight Delite

Opening with a tuneful mechanical whir, Lana’s song wouldn’t be amiss in a teen romance film. I’m not convinced by the mishmash of music – the more classical band instruments with unrelenting whirring begins to overwhelm the song. Lana’s at her sweetest in this however.

Daddy Issues

The music is a bit too harsh but it’s a nice enough song, referencing Baby Blue Love among others. It isn’t Lana’s best by far, messy with lyrics that go all over the place, but (yet again), it would be more promising if it was completely remade and produced properly. The demo, I Was In A Bad Way, is a lot more maudlin and less enthusiastic, so it does fall behind Daddy Issues.

Catch and Release

It’s another song that’s kind of creepy, with an eerie vibe thanks to the relentless, whining music and Lana’s razor-edged warnings in her lyrics. Lana is practically a megalomaniac in this song, completely selfish and unafraid to ask for – and get – what she wants. Yet it’s quite a hypnotising track that, with further production, could be more cohesive and dramatic.

Marilyn

One of her old live performances, Marilyn is too simple in its lyrics but is a strangely erotic tribute to Lana’s icon. Lana owns the stage in this performance, a more carnal honouring than some of her other outputs.

Noir

Lana really goes for it in this furious song of crushed self-esteem and badly treated lover. Lana lets her vocals rip and tear as she growls about her “papi”, her being merely his dolly to do as he pleases. It's not her most perfect song but she doesn’t hold back from letting her hurt and frustration spill over.

Bellevue

Lana utilises haunting harmonising in Bellevue and though she seems hung up on her lover not wanting her around (she repeats it, as if she can’t let go, throughout the song) she still convinces herself she could go back to the old days of drinking and not being hurt. It helps – her chanting – to bring out the emotion of the lyrics, and maintain that broken feeling she is so good at conveying whilst saying how happy she is.

Put Your Lips Together

Taking on the character of a femme fatale who can hold her own, Lana seduces the listener on top of a chilled instrumental. Her lyrics are little bit dirtier as much as her vocals aren’t their best in the choruses (of course, it being a rough demo might have something to do with that). It’s definitely a song that, if completed, could rank alongside Beautiful Player and Ooh Baby in her seduction library.

Starry Eyed

Starry Eyed is a romantic enough song, with a gentle plinking intro that leads to a rumbling, Born To Die-esque track – complete with Lana’s pretty vocals. However, it does tend to drag, a slow song that I find majorly skippable. The dragged-out choruses get tiring after a while of listening so I don’t frequently listen to this song.

Breaking My Heart

Lana is fully materialistic in this song, referencing multiple designer companies as well as her desire to be loved and party. It’s not too imaginative in its lyrics, instead pure pop with a mixture of lyrics that never quite come through with a particular meaning, but it’s a good enough bop.

Butterflies Part 1

A little love song about a tumultuous teen romance, Lana plays off the lovestruck teen ultimately in love with a guy not good for her perfectly. It’s heady and full of the rushes of love, emotive enough to get the feeling of a girl going mad from her relationship.

Ben

Lana, using the rain to her advantages, moodily comforts her executive love in the full femme fatale façade, quietly passionate. Lana, as much as she loves him, is still her own woman, insisting she will smoke if she wants and playing with her voice to showcase such control.

All Smiles

Lana puts on a happy smile as she mopes over Jimmy in this small-town, fifties-painted tale of a girl who wants a man she can’t have. She mostly hits the mark in this acoustic track and has the right foundations for a decent country ballad.

My Best Days

My Best Days is a short song of cleverly utilised trap beats, autotune and slowly layering instrumental in which Lana isn’t happy without her lover. The organ outro is gorgeous, and it’s a track that can perk you up or calm you down.

Get Drunk

Restless pace, whispered mocking and an overall darkly seductive tone – it’s unembellished and, in some ways, could play as Lana dealing with her past alcoholism (demanding whomever the song is directed to should get drunk). It’s a vibe Lana should explore more over a decade since Get Drunk and the like were made.

Let My Hair Down

A simple and spooky track, Lana has an acoustic jam session consisting of unsettled guitar, bongos and her voice. It’s rather repetitive but it’s something different that works well. It shows Lana doesn’t need too many fusses and frills on her tracks to make something captivating, much like her Sirens album.

Every Man Gets His Wish

The intro of upbeat whistling climbs into a lowkey track that goes from sensual stuttering and a sad chorus that still sounds like Lana has a smile on her face. The mood shifts along with the tune but it is altogether cohesive.

Dance For Money

As stripped as the pole dancer Lana plays, Lana gently teases and cajoles in her ode to older men, lemonade and motorcycles with little else.

Back To Tha Basics

Much like the title, this track is a little bit basic but it’s still zesty with a wonderful instrumental and some pop-inspired vocals.

Butterflies Part 2

Production isn’t perfect on this track but Lana has such promise in this song in which she compares to lured in girls to butterflies pinned to a wall, all at once melancholy, knowing and cheeky. It’s unfortunate that the lyrics are so hidden beneath the dominating instrumental, but with tweaking this stormer could be even better.

Children of the Bad Revolution

The kind of song that would be found on one of her albums, Children of the Bad Revolution is a pacy dedication to Lana’s life as a delinquent a la the 1950s starlets. It’s good but it’s not anything too impressive, instead a chilled track that is simply about being free.

Beautiful Player

Lana mopes in the track about a somewhat disliked girl (perhaps they’re all jealous of her) who is in love with one of her players, giving the feel of a villain club performer smiling with red lipstick on and black mascara staining her cheeks.

Lift Your Eyes

Lana takes control in this song, instructing her lover to lift his eyes, rise above his demons and join her in self-respect. It’s a fine alternative to her gushing and moping characters, and with machine-like music running under the song, Lana sounds stronger than ever.

Valley of the Dolls

In this compact track Lana is once again frustrated by her lover. It’s pained but pretty with her vocals once again taking the forefront.

C U L8r Alligator

Just an acapella demo, C U L8r Alligator is simply Lana’s voice with her beating a rhythm in time. However, I really do like this song. I think it would sound even better polished and complete, but for a rough demo it’s promising. The Kristijan Majic remix is the version I most listen to, which makes it sound even more eerie (and if anyone remembers the D1ETPUSSY video that went with it, you’ll get why this song doubly haunts me). It’s not Lana’s finest but it’s a song I would have loved to see developed.

In The Sun

In The Sun is so hot it burns, more heatwave than refreshing sunshine, as she scorns her ex-lover. It’s not the finest instrumental but Lana sticks her fingers up with incredulous shock that someone could betray her so. She keeps the vibe great paired with blue skies and swimming pools with the upbeat music.

Hot Hot Hot

Big Bad Wolf, a slightly different demo track, is what I favour – stripped back, sexily uneasy, the lyrics letting the vivid imagery of red skirts, red cars and devilish men shine. Yet Hot Hot Hot is a decent, if not cheesier, song too, the chanting great for singing along.

Trees

Lana and The Rich Whores strike out with this kickass band-driven track that showcases Lana’s feistier vocals strongly. The lyrics are sparse but the overall feel of Lana going nineties-rock-chick keeps me wanting more of her in this style.

Push Me Down

Rather than being like the controversial Ultraviolence, Lana keeps the ‘violence’ fun in this pacy song, demanding her bad boy treats her badly in the best way possible. With a mildly rock edge, it’s still distinctively party-Lana, reminding of a pop-ier True Love On The Side.

She’s Not Me

It isn’t particularly imaginative pop but Lana lets the guitars do the talking as she whispers her warnings to her ex-lover. Lana owns this track, and though it feels a bit amateur in comparison to her discography and some of her stronger unreleased music, it shows she would have been great even if she went for the noughties chart pop scene. Fun and punchy, it’s a song to play on repeat.

I Don’t Wanna Go

The tentative and tight intro gives me the vibe that Lana wants to avoid going home rather than simply wanting to hang out with her lover, and her pain-tinted vocals in the chorus only add to the theory. She compliments her fascinating guy throughout the verses, a little more restrained but ultimately tense in delivery, before confessing how much she wants to stay out.

St Tropez

This is a great track for dancing and a celebration of being a party girl with plenty of attention. Best played when you want to imagine yourself as the main character.

Summer of Sam

Lana has yet another song of being a cutesy bad girl, comparable to the likes of Dangerous Girl and Playground, but it’s still fairly generic, standard pop fare. Summer of Sam is still quite fun however, drenched in pop and even with a hint of rap-talking keeping the song lively.

I Talk To Jesus

Lana returns to her religious roots in a less blasphemous way (Body Electric, for example) and instead sings a sad ditty about wishing she could have her old life. Solemnly it remembers her past (as seen in her older music) where she had the trailer parks, Christmas lights and her equally holy boyfriend.

Axl Rose Husband

The imagery is rich and gorgeous, not to mention the reference to one of Lana’s idols, but Axl Rose Husband doesn’t always do it for me – despite her strained, desperate vocals that perfectly exemplify her emotion.

Ooh Baby

Sampling Sexual Healing, Lana ramps up the sex appeal as she lets the listener know how much they want her, all while keeping it a little but more upbeat than the original song.

Other Woman

Lana’s tired of being the other woman in this track, and I like the way the lyrics flesh out the story a bit more rather. However, the chorus does get a bit tiresome sometimes.

Girl That Got Away

Lana shows you exactly what you’re missing as she mopes for her ex-lover with a smile on her face, taking the reins and knowing she has something he misses in a bubble-gum pop song about being the it girl you’ll regret letting go of.

#lana del rey #lana del rey songs #lana del rey unreleased #cherry-interlude

[jokertrap-ran]

(未定事件簿) EVENT!「异乡行歌·上篇」 [Tears of Themis] EVENT: Romantic Rail Getaway- Later Half Translations (Mo Yi’s Route)

Day 1: The Old Town of Lange― The Charm of the Hometown of Grapes (兰格老城区: 葡乡的魅力)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *The tracking tag for ALL Event Stories will go under: #Tears of an Event

Location: Cultural Salon

Salon Speaker: In lieu of the progress and development of Technology, the fully automated factory assembly line used to produce wine now reached full maturity.

Salon Speaker: People no longer have to worry about the instability of the wine, that would tarnish the quality of the end product, when doing manual brewing.

Salon Speaker: Of course, there are also certain regions that put emphasis on doing it the traditional way and have continued doing so manually.

Salon Speaker: Alas, we cannot afford to leave out Barosco— The famed Country of Wine.

……

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

The speaker’s comedic style of presentation made everyone listen in with apt interest at the “Barosco Wine Culture” talk.

The 2-hour lecture wasn’t lengthy at all. In fact, it actually made people even more interested in the remote Country of Wine.

I was still enamoured by the scent of wine even after the place had emptied out after the talk, unable to snap back to my senses from the trance I had fallen under.

MC: The Country of wine…? I wonder if even the air will carry the fragrance of wine…?

Mo Yi: Are you interested in Barosco?

MC: Yeah. I happened to see a travel guide for Barosco just the other day!

MC: It mentioned a couple of other popular attractions alongside a Railway Tour about Wine Culture, which I find particularly interesting!

In fact, the main purpose why I’d come down to this talk was to learn more about Barosco.

The small Country famous for its Wine Culture had a pleasant climate and boasted beautiful sceneries that made people yearn to see it with their own eyes.

Mo Yi: It’s always better to witness it with one’s own eyes and hear it with one’s own ears. It’ll be best for you to simply go there and experience it for yourself.

MC: Oh?

It was clearly a simple sentence, no matter how you looked at it; but for some reason or another, it really resonated with my heart.

He’s right. I can definitely experience a different sort of beauty from Stellis City over there in Barosco, right?

Plus, I’ve not been too busy lately, so it’ll be no problem at all to just take a couple days of annual leave and go have fun elsewhere.

Mo Yi: (Y/n), do you want to go to Barosco with me?

Mo Yi: Maybe we can go experience the newly opened Railway Train Route together?

MC: You want to go too?

I realized something fatal the moment the words left my mouth. Doesn’t this mean that I’ve technically sold my heart to the idea!?

Mo Yi: I’ve been there a couple of times before. And I’m also relatively familiar with Barosco myself.

Mo Yi: Besides, I’ve been on Spring Vacation lately, so I have plenty of time to spare.

Mo Yi: I wish to accompany you on this trip and be your tour guide, if you don’t mind.

His golden eyes were coloured with expectation, making me unable to refuse him.

MC: I want to go with you too.

Mo Yi: Great. It’s about time you relax a little after having worked so hard for so long.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Thus, that was how we decided to go on a trip together.

Everything all the way from booking to departure went smoothly without a hitch. And soon, we started our journey to the Country of Wine...

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆  

Location: Railway Tour's Starting Station

MC: The Travel Brochure’s so detailed! It introduces the name, type, taste and quality of all the wines in here.

MC: Oo? They even have grapevine planting methods written in this thing…!

I passed the time by reading the Travel Brochure that we’d been handed after passing the customs while waiting for the train to arrive at the Station.

I didn’t expect the brochure to contain not only information about the various scenery spots, but also records that detail the many varieties of local speciality wines.

Simply put, it was literally a small wine encyclopaedia.

Mo Yi: Looks like the locals here are very proud and confident in the wine that’s MC: Yeah. It feels like they’re broadcasting to the world: “Come taste my wine!”.

While we were happily chatting, a member of the staff pushed a trolly past the platform, parking it in a vacant area nearby.

Staff: Dear tourists, come try some fresh handmade wine free of charge!

Staff: Please show your ticket to enjoy this surprise that our Station has specially prepared for you!

Staff: A special reminder that this only applies for adult tourists! Minors are not allowed to drink alcohol!

MC: Looks like we’ve struck the jackpot, Dr. Mo! We have a taste of Barosco wine before we’re even there!

There were many tourists in the Station, but thankfully, there were staff members around to help guide everyone in an orderly fashion.

It didn’t take long before Mo Yi and I both got our share of the goods.

I took a sip in anticipation. The taste of the liquor instantly lingered between my lips and tongue, the complex and rich aroma spreading throughout my palate.

Mo Yi: How’s the taste of Barosco’s handmade wine? Is it anything like you imagined it to be?

Mo Yi swirled his wineglass but didn’t seem interested in taking a drink out of it. Rather, he appeared much more interested in my evaluation of said wine after having just tasted it myself.

MC: It tastes...

▷Choice: Nicer

MC: I think it tastes nicer than any wine I’ve drunk before.

I tried to remember the wine-tasting terms of description that I’d learned back in the Wine Culture Salon back then.

MC: It tastes refreshing, mellow, and smooth… And what else…? Never mind, I can’t think of any more terms to describe it.

MC: In any case, it’s delicious.

Mo Yi: Looks like the wine here is actually pretty good.

MC: Yeah! I’m thinking of bringing a couple of bottles of their Speciality Wine back to Stellis City!

Mo Yi: The trip hasn’t even started yet. Who knows, you might find other local specialities you want to bring back during the trip itself.

MC: Yup! I’ll have to rely on you to lug the rest of the stuff back if it ever comes down to that!

Perhaps the way I spoke with such confidence had amused him, for his eyes were brightly lit with a smile.

Mo Yi: Of course.

▷Choice: Not very different

MC: In all honesty… It doesn’t seem all that different from the wines I’ve drunk before...

It was as delicious as it came, but if I were to describe just how good it was, I’m afraid that’s something way out of my field.

I struggled for a while, trying to find a way to best describe it; only to settle for the plain hard truth moments after.

MC: Well, I guess I don’t have what it takes to be a wine connoisseur.

Mo Yi: It’s not your fault.

Mo Yi: It’s just wine that the Station’s providing the tourists here to taste-test. There are really no other outstanding traits to it other than it being easy to drink.

MC: Heh… The staff will definitely get mad if they heard you say that.

Mo Yi: Well, you’re the only one I plan on telling.

Mo Yi: You’ll have to go to a special local winery if you want to taste fine wine… We should be getting to one in a couple of days.

MC: Yeah! That’s just one more thing to anticipate!

Mo Yi: Alright, it’s about time for us to board.

Mo Yi: I have a feeling that this is going to be one beautiful and extraordinary journey.

MC: Yeah, me too!

With the delicious food, beautiful sceneries to admire, and the company of Dr. Mo added along to the fray, this was turning out to be an extremely exciting trip!

☆⋅⋆…⋅───── ⋆⋅ Romantic Rail Getaway⋅⋆ ────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Next Part: (Day 1: The Old Town of Lange― Lange’s Commercial Street)

#Tears of Themis #Translations #Otome #Mihoyo #未定事件簿 #莫弈 #Vyn Richter #weiding shijian bu #Mo Yi #tears of themis translations #异乡行歌 #Romantic Rail Getaway #Tears of an Event #Fukushima Jun #福島潤

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES

Member: pilot juyeon thanks to him saying he wanted to be a pilot i couldn’t let this go

Genre: S M U T. this is going to be a long ride... (don’t say i didn’t warn you)

A/N: i spent TWO hours finding a track for this piece and i’m not gonna lie i’m very tempted to go wild with this one so i’m sorry if you start tearing up because it’s so unlike me to go nuts like this. the time now is 11.30pm, let’s see how long it takes me to produce a piece that makes YOU want to go to church. 

“stay on the ground until your knees hurt”

“another!” you call out boisterously, raising your glass so high and fast into the air that the alcohol found its way over the rims and only your hand. the crowd around you shouted and cheered, and sunwoo got out of his seat to get the attention of a bar girl who he doesn’t resist to rest his hands on.

you watch him whisper something into her ear, his lips just inches away from her skin. she licks her plump lips that you were sure had some kind of filler, dragging her long nail across his jawline and walking away, nodding at his order. 

“sunwoo!” you groggily call out. you were on your third glass of Kamikaze and the vodka was already starting to replace the fluid in your veins. your chest was burning and your fingertips were slowly numbing from the intoxication, and your nose picks up nothing but the scent of sweat mixed with all kinds of alcohol. “you’re supposed to be having fun with me, not flirting with the--” you belch and hyunjun glares at you with a look on disgust on his face. “bar girl.”

you start breaking out into snorts and snickers, hyunjun shaking his head at your ability to completely let loose so quickly. sunwoo returns to the table and downs a shot of vodka like it was water, wincing at the burn in his throat as he turns to you. 

“i am having fun with you, but it’s not going to be long before you get dragged off to some corner and get... i don’t know, pounded by someone!” 

he was sitting right next to you but the deafening club music that was echoing in the corners of your brain forced him to yell at you. you scoff, licking the sweet taste of the lime juice off your lips.

“so what if that happens? i’m never gonna see him again because guess who’s leaving the country tomorrow?!” you throw one arm around him, and the other picks up a shot. 

“i can’t believe you’re fucking ditching us to go to new york,” hyun jun looks up from his phone and raises a cocky brow at you, eyes hooded and a smile loosely hanging on his lips. the man was tipsy and the music was probably getting to him now. 

“aw,” you cough, downing the shot and slamming it down on the table. you pull both boys into you, arms around their necks and your drunken self tries to ruffle both their heads against each other. 

the bar girl that sunwoo was hitting on before comes by, more drinks in hand than you told sunwoo to order. you release sunwoo when the both of you notice the extra drinks, and the bar girl leans into sunwoo’s neck (which was such a cheap trick). 

you could’ve sworn she licked sunwoo’s ear just before she left, and she leaves all the drinks on your table. 

“you’ve got a secret admirer,” sunwoo smirks at you, pulling all the drinks over to your end of the table. “she said someone sent the drinks over for you.”

you raise both brows in pleasant surprise, a drowsy smile spreading across your lips as you instinctively stand up in the booth. eyes scanning the club with shitty-ass lighting flickering every second, heads bobbing up and down and people yelling here and there. 

it takes your doped vision to finally find your secret admirer, and he was standing on the second floor, torso over the railings and looking right down at you. his right foot was perched on the lowest bars and his arms were resting over the uppermost bar, swirling a small glass of whatever he was drinking in his right hand. 

you couldn’t really make out his face from this angle and the horrible, headache-inducing light, so all you do is raise a glass to him. 

“THANKS MAN!”

sunwoo and hyun jun jump at your sudden screeching, watching you down the shot in honour of your secret admirer before plopping yourself between the two of them. 

you let hyunjun and sunwoo reprimand you for taking up the promotion from the production company, but you knew deep down inside they were just sad you were leaving them. the three of you had been friends since you were teenagers and ended up in the same production company, and it was a dream you shared up to that point. 

accepting the promotion meant you were at a crossroad, and they did nothing but support your decision to go. 

‘time’ didn’t exist when you were stuck between your two best friends, in a booth in a club where the floor-shaking music made your hold on reality unreliable, and after enough shots, the alcohol was finally making your bladder full. 

you push past hyunjun, your rear brushing across his lap and you look back over your shoulders and grin at hyunjun as an apology. 

you stumble into the bathroom, the blue led lighting painting the walls a nostalgic blue and the red cubicles were such a terrible combination, your eyes began to glitch with the help of the alcohol in your blood. 

you get your business done, thanking god that you were in sneakers, else you would’ve fell inwards into the toilet bowl itself and probably get stuck there. the mirror presents you with a version of you that don’t really see anywhere. in fact, the only times you were dressed in a sheer top and black bra, pants and sneakers was when you let sunwoo drag you to a nightclub. 

you’re not really a fan of the loud, mind-juicing music most clubs play, much less the crowd. but tonight was an exception, because you had less than 24 hours before you were on a flight halfway across the world to start a new chapter of your life. 

you drink a mouthful of water from the tap in attempt to wash the heat from your chest, but when it fails, you’re not surprised. you turn to leave the washroom, the entrance right opposite the male’s toilet and someone comes out the same second you step out of the female toilet. 

you naturally look up and lock eyes with the man, and the first thing that strikes you were his eyes. they were long, focused, mysterious. 

then you realise that he was your secret admirer.

“oh, you!” the realisation washes through you, the alcohol motivating you to throw your arm around him and ruffle his hair. “thank you for the... good shit.” 

he grabs your wrist and stops you in your actions, pulling away and standing up straight. 

suddenly, his height becomes difficult to ignore, and you momentarily wish that you were in heels to match his eyes. 

he leans in dangerously close to you, the look in his eyes make you feel like you’ve done something wrong and it lights a fire in your stomach. “are you here with your boyfriends?”

you scoff loudly at his question, throwing your head back and hugging your belly, one of your wrists still in his grasp.

“who? sunwoo and hyunjun?” you start to snort and giggle uncontrollably, your free hand whacking him on the chest. “you’re funny.”

he tilts his head to the side but his eyes don’t change. 

“over my dead body, dude,” you wave it off, coming down from your humor. “they’re just my friends.”

he goes quiet for awhile, his grip on your wrist never once faltering. he tugs a little on your skin, trying to get your attention.

there was a heat between the two of you, and you couldn’t smell much besides the alcohol in both your breaths.

“can i have their permission to bring you elsewhere? or are they responsible for sending you home safely?”

you bite on your bottom lip, a smile of uncertainty pulling the corners of your mouth up your cheek. you harshly remove your wrist from his grip and throw both arms around his neck, the action requiring more effort than you calculated due to his height. you pull him down and force him into an unconscious power play, leaning into his ear and giving him a small nip on his ear. 

“you don’t need their permission, stranger. you can do whatever you want with me, i’m a grown woman after all.”

you were meant to scare his bold ass away, knowing that your drunken personality wasn’t one to be dealt with. but not only does he remain calm, he gives you the most menacing smile you’ve ever seen in your life. 

“i’ll take that as an invitation.” 

you rush back to the booth were sunwoo and hyun jun were, searching for your bag and downing a few shots while you were at it. they could tell you were in a rush, and you weren’t entirely sure why you were either. 

even if it was the alcohol that was letting you think this was a great idea, you were leaving. it didn’t hurt to have just one night of fun before you were shipped off to another country to work your ass off. 

“hey, hey, hey! where the hell are you going?!” sunwoo complains loudly, throwing his palm into the air. 

“i’m going on a date with my secret admirer,” you give them a mischievous smile, finishing one last shot before waving to them. “i’ll see you tomorrow at the airport, sweets.”

you lean in towards them and peck them on the crowns of their head, rushing off to look for the mysterious man who wasn’t one bit intimidated by your intoxicated self. 

you give him the address of your residence once you reach his car, because at least if anything were to happen, you know the lift lobby of your apartment building had cameras installed. even if you were murdered, there was no way this guy would go scott-free. 

once you get the door unlocked, he pushes you in, hands tightly gripping on the flesh of your rear while his lips fight yours. 

you drop your bag, feeling your back hit some wall in your apartment and your lipstick begins to smudge on his through the messy kisses. his hands were large, and the intensity of the moment rises when he bites on your lip. the pinch of pain pulls out a gasp, and he shoves his tongue into your mouth. 

he explores your mouth messily, and his hands don’t stop roaming your body. usually, you’d be slightly uncomfortable with letting a stranger into your place and letting him hook up with you like this, but the thought of him asking about your friends was strangely comforting. 

his fingers dig into your curves of your waist and he presses himself against you, sandwiching you between his body and the hard wall against your back. recklessly looking for your hands that were around his neck, he violently pins them against the wall over your head, and his large hands give him the privilege of doing it with only one hand. 

the moans and low groans were the only sounds you could hear, and his hand pulls your sheer blouse from under your jeans. his cold fingertips drag themselves across your stomach and up over your bra, harshly cupping your breast and kneading them. 

you feel yourself slowly beginning to melt under his touch, and you start squirming against his chest and the wall, but your wrists being anchored to the wall rendered your movements useless. 

he pulls away from the kiss, your tongues hanging between your lips as a trail of saliva breaks and it forms a drop on the corner of your mouth. you look up and look at him again under the better lighting, and you can’t help but notice how gorgeously defined his features were. sharp nose, high cheekbones, and good god those eyes. 

you were getting lost in them when he shoves his hand under your bra, your shirt still on you and the material collecting around his wrists. the contact sends you backwards into the wall, and his fingers start to play with your sensitive nub. the pull tightens around your torso, and you feel him attach his lips to your neck once your neck’s been turned away from the sensation of him playing with your nipple. 

you don’t even realise he’s let go of your wrists and your hands were now just gripping onto his hair and shoulders while he multi-tasks you into a mewling, whining mess. there was no space to wonder what he was doing with his other hand, until you realise he’s been undoing your belt and the button around your waist. 

he squeezes his hand under the material of the jeans that were just hugging your rear a few seconds ago, and his entire hand claws around the curves of your ass cheek. 

it was difficult to believe that not one piece of clothing has been removed. 

impatience was starting to fill your mind, and you could feel your core gradually getting wetter and needier, from a guy whose name you don’t even know. 

“let’s get this over with, i’m not really in the mood to play with you,” your voice comes out strained and needy, all the fondling and grabbing was just making you need him even more. 

but his hands don’t move. his fingers under your pants dig further into your skin and starts kneading the fat and flesh of your ass cheek like he was doing to your breast, and his lips finally tear away from your neck, only to reach your ears. 

“but you said i could do whatever i wanted with you.”

a playful smile erupts on your face and you poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue as he pulls away, eyes locking with yours again. 

you pull his arms out from under all your clothes and rest both your palms flat against his shoulders, slowly pushing him backwards and guiding him into your bedroom. 

“i’ll let you do whatever you want with me only if you win.”

you could tell something in him snapped, and you should’ve seen it coming, but you don’t. 

your back hits your closed door with a loud thump, and he repeats his actions from before: pinning your hands above your head. you let him have his fun and suck at the skin on your neck and lips, and your tongues take turn to fight a harsh, sloppy game of dynamics. his free arm shoves its way down your stomach and under your already unbuttoned jeans, finding your sensitive nub in your crotch. 

the pressure throws your attention off the power play between your tongues, and he pushes his wet muscle into your wet cavern. you could feel his arrogance and confidence soar, and it only riled you up even more when you now know he was a worthy opponent. 

he slips a finger under the material of your underwear and shoves a finger into you without warning, the sudden intrusion sending a sharp chill up your back. it rips you away from the kiss and you let out a loud moan that was music to his ears. 

the jeans were getting in the way, so he pushes it off your hips and down your thighs, your underwear following along with there rest of your pants. 

it was amusing to know that your bottoms had come off first instead of your tops, but maybe it was just him trying to tell you that he wasn’t going to go easy on you.

he was so preoccupied with eating your face and fingering you that his grip on your wrists had loosened, and you writhe yourself out of his hold, only to grab his hand that was inside you. you pull him out of yourself and bring it up to your lips, dragging your tongue oh so slowly around the skin of his finger before you wrapped your lips around it like it was a lollipop.

the sight of you tasting yourself brings more lust into his eyes, and you saw it. you smirk, finishing the last of yourself off his finger. he was so stunned, you took the opportunity to shove him backwards onto your bed and climb on top of him. 

“you’ve had your fun, now i’ll have mine.” you whisper into his ear, hands already travelling down to his groin and cupping his manhood. 

the growl that escaped from his throat was so satisfying to hear, and reason for the tightening material around his zipper was just so inviting. 

“aw, you treat me like i’m needy as if you aren’t yourself,” you straddle yourself around his lips as you reach out to a scarf you had strewn on your bed. you shove your lips between his and press your wet core onto his groin, sucking groans out from his chest as you wrap the soft material of your scarf around his wrists. 

he doesn’t notice it until you’ve tightened it with a knot. 

his eyes widen and you happily rile up his shirt to expose his skin. the veins that ran from his hips and under his pants were so inviting, you couldn’t resist but to attach your lips to the space around his pelvis while undoing his belt. 

you could hear him struggle to sit up, especially with his hands tied together, but you knew he couldn’t, not while you were busy leaving butterfly kisses all over his abs. 

his pelvis bucks upwards and his chin tilts towards the ceiling, your fingers undoing the button and zipper painfully slowly while you watch him writhe in lustful need. 

you leave his pants on, only exposing his tentage to yourself. the bulge was impressive, but you don’t expect any less, not when you’ve been playing with him like this. 

you lean your face close to his groin, your heavy breath landing on him through his boxers. your fingers play with the rim of his boxers, dragging only the fingertip between his skin and the material while you leave kisses on his pelvic bone. 

you hear a low growl from him, and veins start appearing on his neck as he grits his teeth in agony. 

you abruptly yank his boxers low enough for his length to spring out, and your eyes catch sight of the precum on the tip, already dripping down the sides of his swollen shaft.

you lower your head so your eyes were leveled with his as he lifts his head to look at you, his length just inches away from your lips. 

you make sure he was watching before you press your tongue flat onto his red tip, and an inhumane sound rumbles through him. you hear him curse and you suck only on the tip, your hands pressing against his thighs to prevent yourself from taking more of him into your mouth.

you pull him out, dragging your lips along the bare minimum surface of his skin, a mixture of your saliva and his precum sliding down the little veins that were emerging on the walls of his length. you crawl up back to him, pressing your face into his and kissing him so he could taste himself. 

he starts another power game with your tongue, his neck slowly leaving your bed as you feel the tip of him tap against your inner thighs. your hands were pressed to his chest were his shirt was still riled up to his collar bones, and you remember your shirt and bra were still on. 

you were so focused on winning the game between your lips that the sudden grip on your waist throws you completely off guard. your eyes widen and you immediately break the kiss, only to realise you had already been flipped over onto your knees, face buried in the mattress. he tosses the scarf right next to your face, and smile pulls your lips apart. 

you try to lift your torso off the cushion, but he finds your wrists and holds them down into your lower back, pushing you further into the cotton of your bed. you let out a strained laugh, knowing that you’ve driven him so far over the edge that you’ve lost a game you usually won. 

“i guess someone doesn’t like to lose,” you laugh into the air around you, listening to the sound of a belt hitting your floor. you were still mildly amused with your torso being fully clothes, but there was something about that that differentiated him from other guys you’ve hooked up with. 

this man didn’t have the greed you were familiar with. 

“i’m fine with losing,” he leans forward and announces into your ear. “but i couldn’t pass up on hearing you beg.”

you huff with pleasant surprise as he peels himself away from your back. 

he pushes into you without warning, and you let out the tightest, most strained moan you’ve ever heard yourself make. he doesn’t give you time to adjust, immediately ramming himself into you like there was no tomorrow. 

the impact was slamming your left cheek into the mattress, and saliva had begun escaping out from the corner of your lips that were ajar. 

there was a smile on your face, and with every thrust you let out a mixture of laughs and moans. you feel the flesh on your rear being squeezed like fruit, and you could feel him going deeper and deeper with every subsequent thrust. 

you feel a knot start to form in your stomach, and the laughter slowly turned into low groans and curses as you struggle to look behind you. 

he glares at you through his sweaty fringe, and almost like he could read your face and the lewd noises you were making, he stops and pulls out. 

“what the fuck--” you hiss angrily into the bed. your thighs were shivering from the rampant fucking, and you were physically worn out to some extent. the knot in your core had disappeared, but you’ve never felt so dissatisfied in your life. 

you hear him give a low chuckle, his arms sliding under you and flipping you around again so you were on your back this time. he wraps his lengthy fingers around your ankles and yanks you to the edge of the bed. you struggle a little, wanting to kick him in the face, but the strength he was investing into holding your ankles makes you look like a fragile little nothing. 

he wraps your legs around his waist and leans forward, pressing his palms flat into the cotton around your head, eyes digging into yours. 

you were pissed that he didn’t let you come, but then you remind yourself that he’s not like anybody you’ve ever slept with. your top and bra were still on, and though he looks like he could snap any moment, he’s got perfect control over what he wanted to do. 

he drags a finger down your cheek and traces along your jaw and chin, brushing your lower lip as he closes the gap between your faces.

“i want to hear you beg, love.” 

your eyes were so dangerously near his, and the close proximity surprisingly makes you a little anxious. 

you contemplate for a moment, wondering just how much he was willing to do just to get what he wanted. so, you held back your need to reach your climax and invite him to test his limits. 

“make me.”

he smirks at you, eyes filling with nothing but lust as he abruptly slams into you. your head gets thrown back, and your fingers grip onto the blanket and bed sheet tightly as he starts mindlessly fucking you again. he finally pushes your sheer top up to your neck and literally tears your bra off.

the combination of his tongue playing with one nipple, one hand kneading your other breast and the consistent, violent slams he was making into you was sending you into a place you’ve never been before. 

your mind starts to flash white as the knot returns to your stomach. curses start to leave your lips again and you could almost immediately feel him slow down. your mind says ‘hold it together’ but your body has admitted defeat to his control over himself.

“fuck, don’t stop.”

but it’s almost like he didn’t hear you. 

the thrusts slow down and the magic spot he was hitting inside you was slowly seeping away. 

tears were gathering in the corners of your eyes by the time the knowledge of what he wanted sinks in. 

“oh-- for fucks’ sake, please don’t stop!” 

he pulls away from your breast and starts sucking on your bottom lip, his pace picking up again and now that he was nearly pressed fully against you, every thrust felt deeper than before, if it was even possible. all the moans and mewls you were letting out were getting lost in his mouth.

his thumb finds your sensitive spot above the spot where the two of you were joined, and the pressure sends you into a frenzy you haven’t felt in a long time.

the knot returns for the third time tonight, and he releases your lips to suck on your neck. when the curses start to run off your tongue, the pleads begin pouring out as well. you could feel him smile into your neck as his thrusts get harder and faster; something you didn’t think he was capable of.

the violent fucking was starting to make you see stars, and he just finds the sweet spot on your neck, his thumb still rubbing circles on your core. 

the knot in your abdomen turns into a glass rod, and with one final, sharp thrust, the glass rod shatters and sends periodic spams throughout your entire body. 

the moaning mess you’ve become doesn’t stop him from halting his movements. he lets you ride out your climax while he tries to chase his, and he pulls out to unload himself on your thighs. 

the inappropriate noises were replaced with pants and huffs, and you felt so limp in your own bed, you couldn’t even begin to process the fact that you lost. 

he finds the tissue box in the corner of your room and cleans himself off your skin and off the tip of his slightly flaccid length, turning sideways to present you the veins that ran from his arms to his hands. every muscle on him was so pumped from the session that you couldn’t help but hate yourself for feasting your eyes on him. 

he catches you watching him and raises a smug brow, crushing the tissue in his hand as he smirks at you. 

“see?” he reaches down and picks up his shirt, pulling it over his head the way only hot guys did. “begging wasn’t so hard.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2: Do It For Me

A/N: brb i gotta drink a whole fucking tank of holy water--

#timetohajima #juyeon #the boyz juyeon #juyeon smut #the boyz smut #wtf help #lee juyeon #the boyz fanfic #the boyz imagine #juyeon fanfic #juyeon imagine

[caramelcal]

And yet, I still love you. [mgc]

DAY ONE OF MY 500 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION I HOPE YOU GUYS ARE EXCITED

i wrote this fully and it deleted and i had to start over. what a great start lol

also you can thank my friend for the plot idea. legend :) so saucy 

“The worst part of all of this is that I still love you.’‘

You can find the completed 30 day prompt list here. ANYWAY, ON WITH THE FIC

Wedding bells had never been sourer. In fact, they hadn’t even been rung yet. It was the day before the wedding, and people were currently still scarce, and right now Daisy wanted to be too. In fact, all she wanted at this time was to be away from these people, especially the people that the event was for. She knew this was going to be the worst weekend of her life, no doubt about it.

Everyone who was there had smiles on their face that made Daisy believe that their mouths would split open. Some grins were so wide that they were borderline creepy, and people, overall, were buzzing with excitement. In fact, Daisy seemed to be the only one who wasn’t. Instead, she was trying her best just to survive the weekend without bursting into tears, which hadn’t been completely successful yet. In fact, she saw the venue and burst into tears in her car.

Her eyes were strained on them, seeing everyone that surrounded them bursting with happiness and giving them all their attention. Maybe it was selfish, but Daisy just wished someone would check up on her. They knew about her past with him, but none of them cared.

Be happy Daisy, stop being selfish.

Why don’t you want your sister to be happy?

Her sister stood tall, shoulders straight with that wide smile on her face. The one that made everyone swoon, the one that won him over. Her perfect hair fell over her shoulder, clothes without a single crease, makeup was flawlessly done. Yet, Daisy couldn’t find herself to be happy for the couple, not after everything, even if it was her own sister.

It was the first time that Daisy had laid eyes on him since he left her there, alone, in the street. It was pouring, wind soaring harshly through the air and hitting Daisy in the face, just like his words had done only seconds before. He left her there, screaming, crying, sobbing, wailing. She remembered falling to the ground, clothes soaked from the puddles beneath her but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything anymore.

She had lost him; the one thing she felt security with. A neighbor had pulled her off of the road so that she didn’t get run down but Daisy couldn’t even find it in herself to care. That pain had been hidden deep beneath the surface, it had taken her months but she had managed to suppress it nonetheless, but the news of their engagement, only brought back those feelings.

Her ex-boyfriend was getting engaged to her sister. Her oh-so-perfect sister, the favorite child, cousin, friend.

He was so different now, even if it had only been nine months. They didn’t take long to plan their wedding, it happens only three months after their announcement. He has blonde hair now, his once colorful and youthful hair he sported now replaced. Amber had always liked everything proper; professional. The goofy and fun grin he had worn was gone now too, replaced with a slight upturn on his lips. His tattoos are hidden beneath the button-up he wore, something that Michael had professed his hatred for in the past to Daisy.

That wasn’t the only thing he lied about hating.

She should have seen it coming. Her sister was successful, high up in the production industry with a lot of good connections. She had a good social life and a good face to match. Daisy couldn’t compete, she never was able to, especially not with her bottom-chain journalism job and three friends to her name.

The feelings don’t go away and with each passing moment, Daisy wants to be swallowed whole by the ground beneath her and to never resurface. Yet, it only gets worse when green eyes meet onto his.

She walks out of the room, but he’s quick to follow.

What is it with him and trying to make things worse for her? Is he trying to make her cry? It’s surely what she feels like when he grabs her wrist, yanking her back lightly so she can’t continue forward on her journey to go as far away as possible. Her breathing feels restricted and she freezes in her place, scared to even breathe out from where she’s stood.

Her back is still turned to him, but she knows exactly who it is. His touch still feels electric to her, despite all the pain he’s caused, and he smells exactly the same, only...classier. She’s scared to even entertain the thought but when she smells him she knows exactly what she thinks. Home.

“Daisy,” The sound of her name coming from his tongue almost sets her on a downward spiral as she slowly turns around, yanking her wrist away from him. His voice, although soft, isn’t from guilt, from cheating on her, from all the pain. No. It’s pity.

“Michael,” Her voice almost breaks when she talks, looking up at the familiar eyes of someone she had previously believed to be her soulmate. It brings back so much emotion for her, and she knows he can see it. He’s always been able to read her well.

“Listen, I’m getting married tomorrow,” He starts and all Daisy can think is ‘thanks for the reminder, dickhead’, “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I wanna start over when we become brother and sister-in-law.”

“Wrong foot?”

When Daisy repeated the words that came out of Michael’s mouth, Michael involuntarily cringed slightly. He knew it was more than that, and from the bitterness in her tone, he knew she wasn’t happy with the words either, “Okay maybe that was the wrong choice of words-”

“No Michael, you can’t sit there and act as if I’m holding a petty grudge against you,” Daisy’s finger jabbed into Michael’s chest harshly, but he didn’t budge. He knew she was angry, staring at her as she spoke with anger burning in her green eyes, “You cheated on me with my fucking sister.”

Michael winced, “Daisy, listen-”

“Mike, darling?” A soft voice cut Michael off this time, instead of Daisy’s clipped and cold one. Both of them turned their head to see that Michael’s mother had peaked her head around the corner, “They’re ready to order another round of drinks.”

The woman hadn’t seen Daisy yet, Michael’s large figure covering her completely from view from the woman until she came closer. Her eyebrows were knitted together, seeing the guilty and tense expression that Michael held on his face. She had put up with Michael for twenty-odd years, she knew how to read her son well.

Swallowing thickly, her eyes catch onto the smaller frame behind him, green eyes raw with tears, making her frown. The woman doesn’t even speak, giving her son a curt nod as she joins gazes with him once again before sauntering back around the corner and down the corridor to join everyone else.

“I trusted you,” Daisy’s heartbroken hushed whisper sounds as soon as his mom turns the corner, causing Michael to whip around to face her again, “I ranted to you, I told you how I felt bad compared to her. She was always the favorite, praised like a god and you were the one person that I could go to and feel like I was enough. You comforted me and told me she was a stuck-up bitch. But what were you doing? You were fucking her when I wasn’t there. In our bed no less so don’t go telling me we got off on a bad foot-”

“Daisy lets go somewhere more private-”

He didn’t want people to hear, that much was obvious. Maybe he was ashamed for what he had done for her, wanted to keep it secret for that reason. Or maybe he was trying to protect his own reputation; his and his fiancés. He didn’t want to break the perfect couple façade that the two had going on. Reaching out for the smaller girl, he goes to guide her further away from the function, but as soon as his fingers grazed her arm she harshly yanked her hand away. It was as if his touch burned her skin as if he was repulsive to her. Her green eyes glared at him with such thick anger that it made him sad, he truly had fucked her over and he knew that.

“So no one can hear?” A bitter laugh escapes her lips, “They don’t care about me, no one here does. ‘Be happy for your sister, Daisy. Don’t be selfish’ where was that energy when she fucked my boyfriend?”

“People here care about you, Daisy.”

“Like who, Michael? Who?

“Me.”

Another humorless laugh escapes the girl’s lips, and she barely ever realizes the tears silently escaping her cloudy eyes, “You don’t hurt people you care about, Michael. And you certainly don’t cheat on them with their siblings.”

Silence surrounded them. He couldn’t explain himself. He loved daisy, truly, with every fiber of his being but Amber was better for his reputation, she knew top producers, people that could get him and the boys good deals. Was that really worth giving Daisy up for? For a chance of fame and success?

“You know she had everything,” Daisy started bitterly, catching onto Michael’s eyes once more, “You were the one thing, the one thing I had that she didn’t. But I didn’t even have you.”

Her voice ended off into a whisper, almost to stop her from completely breaking down and keeping that tiny piece of dignity that she had left. He knew exactly how she felt, he remembered him crying to her, asking why she wasn’t good enough for anyone. He remembered her crying, asking why her parents -and the rest of her family- loved Amber more than her.

He had tried to dismiss the thought that they loved one child any less than the other but when he was introduced to the family as Amber’s boyfriend instead of Daisy’s, he experienced it first hand. It was sickening, how much more they cared for him when he was Amber’s boyfriend, even after they knew everything the two had done behind Daisy’s back. She didn’t deserve that.

Bitterly, she laughed once more, head ducked to the ground and hands still curled into fists limply at her sides. Her head softly hit against the wall, forehead leaning against it with her eyes scrunched closed, “and the worst part of this is that I still love you.”

He barely heard it, a self-deprecating murmur leaving her lips but he did. His eyes widened, and something inside him seemed to snap as he stomped over to him, despite only being a few steps away. Forcefully, he took her head in his hands, fingers underneath her chin, and pointing it up to his face.

And then he kissed her.

It looked like they’d be in for a hell of a weekend.

#5sauce #5sos #5sos blurbs #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer x reader #michael clifford #michael clifford x reader #michael clifford x you #michael clifford x oc #michael gordon clifford #michael gordon clifford x reader #5sos x oc

[tillidontneedfantasy]

A Track-by-Track Breakdown of Taylor Swift’s 8th Studio Album: ‘folklore’

Taylor Swift’s 8th studio album, folklore, starts off with the lie, “I’m on some new shit.” Perhaps to someone who hasn’t been paying attention this would seem to be true. But to those listening, folklore is the essence of her skill and success throughout her entire career stripped down for all to see, but more refined, enhanced, and impressive than ever.

Even prior to her pop-world domination with 1989 (2014), Taylor’s storytelling ability has always been her most compelling strength as a writer. In 2010, she released her third album, Speak Now, penned fully solo to prove to the cynics that she does, in fact, write her own music. And it’s damn good. Widely considered her best song, “All Too Well” from Red (2012) is a five and a half minute epic about love had and lost, all in walks through autumn trees, almost running red lights, dancing round the kitchen, and a scarf reminiscent of innocence, unreturned.  

Yet her pop prowess over the last six years perhaps leads to her storytelling being overlooked to those more focused on the music. There is a particular genius in writing a successful pop song, let alone three successful pop albums, that still has hard-hitting lyrics underneath the synth. Take the excellent “Cruel Summer” from Lover (2019) for example. The song is just under 3 minutes, and the production is so enthralling and infectious that it can take such a hold on you, you might miss the tale being told along with it about a fraught summer relationship that was actually just the beginning of her own love story.

But without the pop production, her stories on folklore demand attention. Swept up by a strong wave of creativity and inspiration, Swift secretly wrote and produced this album in around three months with Aaron Dessner of The National, one of Swift’s favorite bands, and long-time collaborator and friend Jack Antonoff. A surprise album is a new endeavor for Swift, as she generally spends months meticulously planning an album rollout. It is refreshing, and as a dedicated, long-time fan of Taylor, it is thrilling. Due to the album cover where she is standing in the woods, and the genre of the album itself, there have been think pieces regarding the “man in the woods” trope and what it means that Taylor seems to be embodying it. As a result of over-exposure, people are unable to stop focusing on her image and the way she presents herself. It’s understandable, as she is a very smart and deliberate businesswoman, and clearly cares about how she is perceived. But with this album, it is clear that none of that was at play. We are in the middle of a pandemic. Her mother has been battling cancer for years. Isolate a creative person in a dangerous world and they will dream up an escape. She understands more than ever how precious each moment is, and does not want to waste another one. The woods being the landscape for the photo-shoot is most likely attributed to the fact that it is the safest place to have one under these circumstances. She’s not pretending she removed herself from society and became enlightened, she didn’t dabble into a more alternative sound to prove anything; she is just sharing stories she wants to tell that she is proud of, and nothing more.

Of course the music of the album is important, but the lyrics are the heart of it all, and I wanted to focus on them. Upon its release, Taylor explained in a foreword that the album was a mixture of personal and fictional accounts. The beauty of stories is that once they are shared, they never live one single life; each person who consumes a story interprets it uniquely, and the story becomes a multiverse, with different meanings and outcomes than what initially drove the pen to the paper. As explained by Swift in a YouTube comment prior to the album’s release, three songs on the album are all one story, which she has dubbed “the teenage love triangle.” The three points of the triangle are “cardigan,” “august,” and “betty.” But if someone had not seen her say that, they might not have figured it out. Maybe they’d interpret each song as their own story, and connect it to their own. Taylor knows this. It is why she loves storytelling and is why she is so good at it. The album itself is a mirror ball, shimmering with every version of the stories being told, reflecting a bit of each person who listens. These are my interpretations, but they can mean whatever you make of them. 

1. the 1 The melody of this song helps set the scene; picture yourself skipping rocks on a lake, reminiscing on the one that got away. “the 1” is about learning to assimilate into a life without them, resentfully accepting that they might be moving on, too. She ruminates on what went wrong and what could have been. In a very Swift fashion, she puts the blame on herself when she sings, “in my defense, I have none / for digging up the grave another time.” Perhaps this song is fictional, perhaps it’s a revisit of a past feeling or relationship, but its relatability makes it feel real and present. She searches for explanations, restraining herself from asking, “if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?” But it’s good she didn’t ask, because she’d never find the answer, anyway. Best lyric: “We never painted by the numbers, baby, but we were making it count / You know the greatest loves of all time are over now.”

2. cardigan (teenage love triangle, part 1: betty’s perspective) “When you are young they assume you know nothing,” Swift sings in her smooth low-register on this Lana del Rey-esque single. “But I knew everything when I was young,” she asserts. They say wisdom comes with age, but there is wisdom lost, too, of what it felt like to be young; but she has held onto it. In this track, the narrator (Betty) is looking back on her relationship with someone she once loved (James, as name-dropped in “betty” later on in the album). Her insight on his character was always spot on; she knew he’d try to kiss it better, change the ending, miss her once the thrill expired and come back, begging for her forgiveness in her front porch light. As soon as she was feeling forgotten, he made her feel wanted, his favorite. The ending in question is unclear, whether she granted him her forgiveness or not. But what is clear is Taylor’s understanding of the pull of young love, the intensity, the immortalization of all the smallest of details, the longing to be someone’s favorite. It’s why we look back on it so often, read stories and watch films about it, even as we grow old. It’s the cardigan we put back on when we want to be Peter Pan and remember what it was like to fly with Wendy. Best lyric: “You drew stars around my scars / but now I’m bleeding.”

3. the last great american dynasty The story of Rebekah Harkness and her destruction of the last great American dynasty, Standard Oil, is documented in this track, as each verse covers a different part of Rebekah’s life, going from a middle class divorcee to one of the wealthiest women in America by marrying into an empire. Swift paints Rebekah as an outcast, the Rhode Island town blaming her for her husband’s heart giving out. Rebekah used her inherited fortune on her ballet company, throwing lavish parties with her friends who went by the “Bitch Pack,” playing cards with Dali (Yes, as in Salvador Dali. It’s not clear if they actually played cards together, but her ashes were placed in an urn designed by him), and feuding with her neighbors. Then, fifty years later, Taylor Swift bought that very house and ruined the neighborhood all over again, bringing with her the triumphant return of champagne pool parties and women with madness, their men and bad habits. It’s a note on how women will be blamed for tarnishing what is sacred to men rather than celebrated, specifically when its related to wealth and power. They will call them mad, shameless, loud. But just like Rebekah, Taylor learned to pay them no mind, and just have a marvelous time. It is also interesting to note that Rebekah went by Betty. Perhaps Taylor felt inspired by and connected to her and gave her a whole backstory, and thus the birth of “the teenage love triangle,” or maybe it’s just a coincidence; but that’s the fun of it all. Either way, this track is a standout showcase of how Swift has truly mastered her craft as a songwriter. Best lyric: “Holiday House sat quietly on that beach / free of women with madness, their men and bad habits / and then it was bought by me.”

4. exile ft. Bon Iver You know that feeling when your parents are fighting and it’s upsetting you but you can’t help but listen? That’s kind of what listening to this song feels like. Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon co-wrote the track, and he lends his gorgeous vocals to play a man who has been exiled by his ex who has moved on with someone else while he desperately tries to understand where it all went wrong. The bridge is particularly poignant, both proclaiming, “you didn’t even hear me out,” while talking over each other. He thinks he was expected to read her mind, but she is adamant that she gave him plenty of warning signs. Miscommunication is one of the most common downfalls of a relationship, and the emotion in Swift’s and Vernon’s voices really draws you into the argument with them, transporting you back into your own exile from people you once called home. Best lyric: “I couldn’t turn things around / (You never turned things around) / ‘cause you never gave a warning sign / (I gave so many signs.)”

5. my tears ricochet Taylor describes this song in the foreword as “an embittered tormentor showing up to the funeral of his fallen object of obsession.” If you know enough, you can put the pieces together that the tormentor is Scott Borchetta, the head of Big Machine Records, and the funeral is of their professional and personal relationship. Taylor was the first artist ever signed to Big Machine. Borchetta and Swift had to trust each other in their partnership for it to be a success, and oh, how it was. But prior to Lover’s release, Taylor announced that she would be signing to Republic Records as her contract with Big Machine had ended and Republic offered her the opportunity to own all of her masters moving forward and negotiate on Spotify shares for all their artists. It all could have ended amicably there, but then Scott Borchetta sold all of Big Machine, along with Taylor’s masters from every album prior, to Scooter Braun. Braun manages some of the biggest stars out there, and had previously managed Kanye West. Taylor publicly spoke out about this purchase, stating that she was not made aware of this before the announcement, and how much of a betrayal it was considering she had cried to Scott before about Scooter’s mistreatment of her. Taylor has continued to be vocal about this, and so she sings, “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace.” There is a lot to unpack in this song, but the main takeaway is that this betrayal hurts him just as much if not more than it hurts her, because his career was built on her achievements. He buried her while decorated in her success, becoming what he swore he wouldn’t, erasing the good times for greed, all just to be haunted with regret for pushing her out and stealing her lullabies. The pain is palpable, and it is notable that this is song is placed at track 5, the spot generally reserved for the most vulnerable on the album; it shows that there are different types of heartbreak that can shatter you just as much as those from romance. Best lyric: “If I’m dead to you, why are you at the wake? / Cursing my name, wishing I stayed.”

6. mirrorball On Lover’s “The Archer,” Taylor expresses her anxiety over people seeing through her act, her own grief at seeing through it herself, wondering if her lover does and whether he would stay with her regardless. “mirrorball” is about the act, one of the more obviously confessional songs on the album. She talks about how a mirror ball can illuminate all the different versions of a person, while also reflecting the light to fit in with the scene. Taylor’s critical self-awareness is heart wrenching, and it’s clear that the anxiety that surrounds the public perception of her is still prevalent. She describes herself as a member of a circus, still on the tightrope and the trapeze even after everyone else has packed up and left, doing anything she can to keep the public’s attention. It hurts to hear the desperation in her voice, but there’s hope in the song, too. She is speaking to someone (we can assume her long-term boyfriend, Joe Alwyn) and thanking them for not being like “the regulars, the masquerade revelers drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten.” In 2016, the height of Taylor’s fame and subsequently her farthest fall from grace, all the people who pretended to be her friends and attended all her parties celebrated her (temporary) demise, continuing to dance over her broken pieces on the floor. But he stayed by her side as she put herself back together. And so now, when no one is around, she’ll shine just for him, standing even taller than she does for the circus. Best lyric: “I’m still a believer, but I don’t know why / I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try / I’m still on that trapeze, I’m still trying everything / to keep you looking at me.”

7. seven Her voice gentle and haunting, Taylor recalls the freedom and innocence of her childhood in Pennsylvania. She asks to be remembered for how she was, swinging over the creek, before she learned civility when she would scream anytime she wanted, then letting out a very pretty one. She sings to her old friend soothingly about taking them away from their haunted house that their father is always shouting in, where they feel the need to hide in a closet, perhaps literally, or figuratively, or both. They can move into Taylor’s house instead, or maybe just to India, just be sure to pack their dolls and a sweater and then they’ll hit the road. She can no longer recall her friend’s face, but the love she had for them still lives in her heart, and she wants it to live forever through story. Just in the way that folklore itself blends reality and fiction, but the truth within it passes on, so will the purity of that love and friendship. Best lyric: “Please picture me in the weeds / before I learned civility / I used to scream ferociously / any time I wanted.”

8. august (teenage love triangle, part 2: the other girl’s perspective) If you had to assign the feeling of longing to a song, it’d be “august.” It’s when you’re teetering at the edge with someone, unsure of where you stand with them, clinging to anything they give you and doing anything just to raise your chances, “living for the hope of it all.” August, the last month of summer, its heat causing it to slip away the fastest in a haze before reality hits. This track is a display of how sometimes losing something you never had causes an even deeper ache than losing something that was yours, and Jack Antonoff’s signature production intensifies the emotion even more. It’s the story of shattered hope, and the longing for the days where it could still fuel you. Best lyric: “To live for the hope of it all / cancel plans just in case you’d call.”

9. this is me trying “this is me trying” is like a drive through a tunnel at night, hearing your loudest anxieties and insecurities echo all around you, caving in. The track is another apt insight into Swift’s struggles with her self-image, with the pressure she puts on herself, so much so that she sometimes pushes herself too close to the edge, her fears luring her out of the tunnel and down, down, down into her own cage, stunting her own growth and keeping those who care out of reach. She tells us how she was “so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere.” Every action has an equal, opposite reaction, meaning that she was pushing herself so hard, she rolled back to where she started, and now has to reset. This could be referring to the period between the end of the 1989 era and the release of reputation (2017), or a different time in her life, or just a general sentiment. It doesn’t really matter, though, because no one’s growth is a neat, straight line; growth is jagged. Just like any of us, Taylor will always have to face new obstacles, new pitfalls, new reasons to get back up. She sounds most vulnerable as she cries, “at least I’m trying,” and you feel comforted knowing someone so beautiful and successful has to push herself to try, too, and yet that motivates you more to try yourself. Best lyric: “They told me all of my cages were mental / so I got wasted, like all my potential.”

10. illicit affairs A quiet, slow-build testament of the passion, the tragedy, the secrecy, the inimitability of a romance that shouldn’t exist, “illicit affairs” demonstrates how you can ruin yourself for someone from just one moment of possibility or truth, quite like the narrator of “august” does for the hope of it all. An illicit affair can be many different things: infidelity, forbidden love, a love that can never be fully realized, a relationship that is inherently wrong but electrifying all the same. It’s a reminder of what so many of us would do just to see new colors, to learn a new language, even if the one moment of enlightenment destroys us forever. We might lose the iridescent glow but we don’t forget it; we carry it with us, but must be careful to remember its blinding effect, to remember how fatal the fall is from the dwindling, mercurial high. Best lyric: “Tell your friends you’re out for a run / you’ll be flushed when you return.”

11. invisible string Clearly the most outright autobiographical track, “invisible string” is the plucky pick-me-up needed. The song is like sunshine, as Swift endearingly links all the little connections between her and her boyfriend, Joe Alwyn, since before they even met. She compares the green grass at the Nashville park she’d sit at in hopes of a meet-cute to the teal of his yogurt shop uniform shirt, and gives a nod to her smash hit “Bad Blood” from 1989 with the delightful line “bad was the blood of the song in the cab on your first trip to LA.” She reasons these coincidences as a fateful, invisible, golden string tying them together since the beginning, always destined to meet at the knot in the middle. She thanks time for healing her, (a callback to “Fifteen” from Fearless [2008]), fighting through hell to make it to heaven, transforming her from an axe grinder to a gift giver for her ex’s baby (the ex in question, Joe Jonas, and his wife Sophie Turner, happened to have their first daughter two days before this album’s release). As she has on her previous two albums, she uses the color gold to illustrate how prized their love is to one another. It’s sweet to know in all the gloom that the string has not been severed, and the trees are still golden somewhere. Best lyric: “Cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart / now I send their babies presents.”

12. mad woman Throughout her entire career, Taylor Swift has defiantly defended female rage, all the way back from throwing a chair off a platform on her Fearless Tour during the impassioned “Forever & Always,” to her patient, vengeful reliance on karma in reputation’s lead single, “Look What You Made Me Do,” to her most recent tackling of the matter on Lover’s last and final single, “The Man,” where she explores society’s acceptance and encouragement of angry men yet disdain for angry women. “The Man” is catchy and upbeat, and a fun thought experiment into how Swift’s career would be perceived if she was a man, something that is even more interesting to think about now as she releases an album in a genre heavily dominated and lauded by males. But on “mad woman,” she further explores the creation and perception of female rage, though masked under a smooth, haunting piano melody, her vocals subdued, taunting. In the album foreword, she describes the inspiration behind this song as “a misfit widow getting gleeful revenge on the town that cast her out.” This could be the continuation of Rebekah “Betty” Harkness’s story at her Holiday House in Watch Hill, RI, and how she further alienated herself from the rest of the neighborhood as they cast stones at her for the collapse of the last great American dynasty. (Or perhaps Daenerys Targaryen’s descent as the Mad Queen played a part in the song’s inspiration, as Swift has spoken of her love for Game of Thrones and her character specifically.) Taylor herself could also represent the widow, her music and masters as her love lost, and the men behind the crime as the “town that cast her out.” In the first verse she sings, “What do you sing on your drive home? / Do you see my face in the neighbor’s lawn? / Does she smile, or does she mouth ‘fuck you forever’?” It’s the first f-bomb of Taylor’s career (though a much more playful one will come two tracks later in “betty”) and it speaks volume. Taylor has received a lot of condemnation for expressing her anger at their transaction, for calling out their greed for what it is. Some view Swift’s stance on the ordeal as petty and trivial; they see the men as orchestrating a good business deal, and Swift as the girl throwing a tantrum. Ask any woman, and they can tell you about a time a man told them they were crazy for being justifiably angry; it only makes us angrier. “No one likes a mad woman,” Taylor states, “You made her like that.” Swift underscores that here, how they will poke and poke the bear but then blame it for attacking, as if they had never provoked it at all, and how dare it defend itself. Just as they blamed Rebekah for her husband’s heart giving out, they somehow manage to blame Swift for not being allowed to purchase the rights to her own work. And yes, she’s mad, but the song is measured and controlled; she’s used to her anger now, and knows just how to wield it. Best lyric: “Women like hunting witches, too / doing your dirtiest work for you / It’s obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together.”

13. epiphany This is another track Swift provided some background on, stating it was inspired by her “grandfather, Dean, landing at Guadalcanal in 1942” during WWII. The first verse paints this image, while the second verse depicts a different kind of war, happening right now, fought by doctors and nurses. She speaks of holding hands through plastic, and the escape folklore has granted you suddenly lifts. Watching someone’s daughter, or mother, or anyone suffer at the hands of the COVID-19 pandemic, just as watching a soldier bleed out, helpless, is too much to speak about. As she points out, they don’t teach you about that vicarious trauma in med school. We are living in a tireless world with barely any time time to rest our eyes, but too much going on while we’re awake to make sense of any of it. “epiphany” is a cinematic prayer, pleading for some quiet in order to find an answer in all the noise. We’re still waiting for that glimpse of relief. Best lyric: “Only twenty minutes to sleep / but you dream of some epiphany / Just one single glimpse of relief / to make some sense of what you’ve seen.”

14. betty (teenage love triangle, part 3: james’s perspective) It makes sense that a song reminiscent of Fearless would exemplify some of the best story-telling on folklore. The final puzzle piece of the teen love triangle, “betty” is a song sung by Swift from the perspective of the character of her own creation, James, attempting to win back his true love, Betty, who he slighted in some way. He proclaims that the worst thing he ever did is what he did to her, without explicitly stating it. Though the infamous deed is unclear, here’s the information we collect from this song: James saw Betty dancing with another boy at a school dance, one day when he was walking home another girl (from “august”) picked him up and he ended up spending his summer with her yet still loved Betty, and though he ended things with his fling and wanted to reconcile with Betty, he had returned to school to see she switched her homeroom (James assumes, after saying he won’t make assumptions. Classic men). So in order to make it up to her, he shows up at her party with the risk of being told to go fuck himself (the second and charming “fuck” on the album! Which is repeated!). Upon his arrival, there is a glorious key change (ala “Love Story”) and all the pieces fall into place for the listener; we realize Betty is the girl singing in “cardigan” as he lists the things he misses about her since the thrill expired, like the way she looks standing in her cardigan, and kissing in his car. He’s 17 and doesn’t know anything, but she knew everything when she was young, and she knew he’d come back. The way I see their story conclude is that she led him to the garden and trusted him, but as they grew older they grew apart, but the love she had for him never faded completely. Listening to this song is like being back in high school, whether you were the person who did someone wrong or the person so willing to forgive in the name of young love, or Inez, the school gossip, you’re right there with them. The other great thing about this song is that it is sung to a girl, and though it is set up so we understand it is most likely from a boy’s perspective, it doesn’t have to be. It’s really great that girls in the LGBTQ community can have a song in Taylor’s voice to fully connect to without changing the pronouns or names (even James, which is unisex and is one of the names of the daughters of Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds, Taylor’s close friends, mentioned in this song). That is the beauty of folklore: the infinite ways a story can be told, perceived, retold from a different perspective, and told again. Maybe you’ll hear it from Inez. Best lyric: “But if I just showed up at your party / would you have me? Would you want me? / Would you tell me to go fuck myself, or lead me to the garden?”

15. peace One of the most beautifully solemn songs of her career, “peace” echoes the same fears explored in “Dancing With Our Hands Tied” from reputation; will the person she loves be able to weather the ever-present storm that comes with the life of a superstar, but also dwells within herself? Will holding him as the water rushes in be enough? Will giving him her wild, a child, her sunshine, her best, be a fair consolation? Presumably another confessional track and about Alwyn, Swift puts him up on a pedestal, praising his integrity and his dare to dream. She proclaims that she would die for him in secret, just as she told him she’d be on her tallest tip toes, spinning in her highest heels, shining just for him in “mirrorball.” She highlights some of the greatest gifts of love, such as comfortable silence and chosen family. She knows what they have is special, but she also knows the value of peace, the ultimate nirvana, and does not want to deprive him of that. It is so deeply relatable- to me, at least- to feel like you can give someone so much of yourself but know it still may never be enough, and to fear either losing them or robbing them of something better. But looking at what they have together, maybe peace is overrated. Or maybe, she’s looking for peace in the wrong places. The calm is in the eye of the storm, and sometimes, there’s nothing more freeing than throwing away the umbrella and soaking in the rain. Best lyric: “I never had the courage of my convictions / as long as danger is near / and it’s just around the corner, darling / ‘cause it lives in me / no, I could never give you peace.”

16. hoax The truest enigma of the album, the closer, “hoax” is a devastatingly dark ballad about the uncertainty, or perhaps incredulity, of someone’s love for you, a love that is your lifeline. The lyrics are ambiguous, which gives way to a plethora of interpretations. Perhaps she is speaking about a hypothetical situation that has yet to happen (and hopefully doesn’t) in which someone she loves and trusts betrays her. Maybe she is talking about a relationship, real (hopefully not) or fictional, in which despite the torment it brings her she holds onto it for dear life. I’m most inclined to believe that the song represents her difficulty in accepting that someone is willing to love her through such dark periods, that their love must actually be a hoax, but she chooses to believe in it anyway and uses it as the motivation to rebuild her kingdom, to rise from the ashes on her barren land. And even through the downs that come at some point in every relationship, she can still see the beauty in it all. Yes, their love is golden, but waves of blue will crash down around any partnership, because life does not exist without them. So even when things are as blue as can be, she’s at least grateful it’s with him. Best lyric: “Don’t want no other shade of blue but you / no other sadness in the world would do.”

Although we still have yet to hear the deluxe track, “the lakes,” as a fan of Taylor for almost 12 years, it feels so obvious that this is her strongest work yet. The storytelling I fell in love with on Fearless as a teenager (which, much like folklore, was highly inspired by imaginary situations and real emotions) is even sharper now as we have both grown into adults. The music on this album might not be everyone’s speed, and that’s okay. But it allowed Taylor to dip back into what made Fearless such a success: using pieces of her own truth and the whims of her imagination to develop a multi-faceted narrative that becomes universal. During her Tiny Desk concert, before performing “Death By A Thousand Cuts” from Lover, Swift explained the anxiety she felt around the possibility of stunted creativity when people would ask her what she would write about once she was happy. Taylor has released an abundance of beautiful, fun, complex love songs since the start of her relationship almost four years ago now. But “Death By A Thousand Cuts,” which is a fan favorite, helped her prove to herself that she can still write a killer breakup song while being in a happy, fulfilling relationship; the song was the last track written for Lover and was inspired by the film Something Great on Netflix. And so it makes perfect sense that Taylor used folklore to continue exploring this new avenue for songwriting. All of her discography and all of her life experiences have culminated to the folklore moment: as all the best artists do, she will never stop finding inspiration in hidden corners of this dark, mystical, wondrous universe, and falling in love with new ways to share those wonders. And that love will be passed on.

DISCLAIMER - REVIEWER’S BIAS: I love Taylor Swift more than any person in my life, yes including my parents, they are aware and have accepted this fact long ago ❤️

#taylor swift #folklore #the 1 #cardigan #the last great american dynasty #exile #bon iver #my tears ricochet #mirrorball #seven #august #this is me trying #illicit affairs #invisible string #mad woman #epiphany #betty #peace #hoax #1989 #fearless #red #speak now #lover #cruel summer #jack antonoff #aaron dessner #the national #folk #alternative

[wherevermyway]

step out! do what you want (chapter one)

pairing: reader/bang chan rating: explicit | 18+ warnings: smut with plot, smoking, explicit drug use, alcohol, partying, unprotected hookups word count: about 6,100 also posted to my AO3 here! chapter/series navigation

chapter one: my house

after being abandoned by your best friend at a lame party, you run into Christopher Bang, a well-known music producer who was also conveniently abandoned at the same party. you're invited back to his place for some fun, but you end up biting off more than you can chew when you find out who he really is.

hello new readers! this is just a precursor to let you know that this is not going to be an all-smut-all-the-time super happy fun fic. there will be dark elements, especially from chapter six to the conclusion. smut has been marked as noted (chapters one through five) so if you’re just here for that, there you go!

disclaimer: any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.

side note: for the love of minho’s cats, don’t mix party drugs or drugs with alcohol.

I also recommend listening to "true intentions" by takayan, "bet bet" and "I'm in trouble" by nu'est, and "nxt 2 u" by none other than 3racha while listening to this. playlist can be found here!

“Fuck,” you grumbled under your breath as you sat down on the grungy couch behind you. Your feet were killing you because you thought that your brand new high heels were a great complement to your outfit, no matter what the physical cost to you was. Loud EDM music pulsed from the large speakers on the other side of the room, the bass trembling the couch from underneath you.

Leaning back, appreciating the fact that you were finally off of your feet, you sighed a breath of relief. You silently swore to yourself that you were going to kill Minji the next time you saw her. How could she leave you alone for some dude? Hyunjin: was that his name?

Whatever. It didn’t matter. This party sucked; you didn’t know anyone, it smelled like feet, and whomever was controlling the music was horrible. Who plays EDM sandwiched between lo-fi beats?

You were ripped from your thoughts as the couch shifted as some guy with very bright and well-maintained (albeit obviously bleached) blond hair unceremoniously flopped down next to you. He let his face fall into his hands as he let out an exasperated groan. It seemed like tonight wasn’t going well for him, either.

“What’s your deal?” You shouted in his direction, not actually caring if Mr. Blond responded or was interested in chatting with you.

He lifted his head up from his palms, tilting back to look at you. You saw the whites of his eyes quickly glance up and down your torso and head. An uneasy expression briefly passed over his face - you couldn’t quite decipher exactly what it was. You looked him up and down - in the dim lighting, you could tell he was wearing a nice white button-up shirt, casually buttoned only to his sternum, and some skin-tight, shiny black pants that you assumed were made out of mock leather. He looked good.

Mr. Blond sighed and sat back. He opened his mouth, but didn’t make an effort to look at you. “My friend left me. Ran into some chick he used to fuck off and on and I have no idea where he went.” His hand reached into his back pocket, fumbling around until he pulled out a black pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He brought the pack to his mouth, wrapping his lips around one that popped out of the pack and pulled it out, turning the rest of the pack to you.

“Want one?” He turned his head towards you and looked at you with a relaxed, tired look in his eyes. “You look pretty miserable too. Hot, but miserable.” Mr. Blond’s blatant comment elicited an unwanted snort from you as you grabbed a cigarette from the pack.

“What the hell,” you said with an uncommitted tone as you lifted the cigarette to your lips, “this party sucks and I could use something to take the edge off.” The man sat back on his hand, lifting his lighter to your mouth, lighting the cigarette as you breathed in.

The soft flavour of menthol danced around your tongue as the vapour travelled to your lungs. ‘An interesting choice’, you thought, ‘Blondie doesn’t seem like the type.’

As if he could read your thoughts, Mr. Blond chimed in, “I only smoke when I come to these parties.” You watched him as he relaxed back into the couch, entranced as he took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke billowing up from his lips deliberately travelling up his nose. The sight made your stomach tingle with excitement for a fleeting moment. “I fucking hate menthol, though,” he laughed, looking at the cigarette in his hand before looking to you and smiling, “Name’s Christopher. Chan, when I’m here in Seoul, but I prefer Christopher.”

You smile, taking a drag from your cigarette before introducing yourself. “Nice to meet you, Blondie.” It seemed like your night was finally starting to get a little exciting.

Time had passed, although you weren’t exactly sure how long it was. Conversations with Christopher came naturally - you easily chatted about your interests; how he was in the music production industry and was pretty well known, but preferred staying underground whenever possible; he even seemed genuinely interested when you told him about your modelling career, travelling between South Korea and your home country of Japan, occasionally travelling across Europe and the US for some really high-end shoots.

Minji had texted you an hour ago saying she was sorry for abandoning you and apologizing more, admitting in a text ten minutes later with four pleading face emojis and two sets of eye emojis prefacing that she had left with Hyunjin and was turning off her phone for the night. It didn’t bother you in the slightest, and the look on Christopher’s face as he realized that his friend Hyunjin left with your friend made you belly laugh uncomfortably hard for a good minute.

“What a small world,” you gasp out between laughs, wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes. “That bitch left me for your friend! I guess it was fate that we met tonight.”

Christopher smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. You had a feeling you knew what he was going to ask as he turned to you with a smirk on his face, him biting the corner of his bottom lip. You didn’t want to spoil the fun prematurely by interrupting, deciding you’d hear him out. You always enjoyed watching potential one-night stands squirm when they wanted to ask you to their place.

“Yeah, seems like we were meant to meet each other tonight,” he says as he casually reaches his arm across the back of the couch behind you. The stale smell of cigarette smoke doubled in strength as he leaned in closer to you. “What do you say we leave this horrible party and head back to my place? No pressure, it just seems like it’d be more fun to get to know you somewhere that didn’t smell like a locker room.”

Both of you chuckled at Christopher’s lame, but accurate, joke, and you smiled up at him. “Anything beats this place,” you reach down to touch his thigh, and you bring your face next to his ear, whispering, “let’s get out of here,” as casually as you could manage.

‘Oh shit,’ you thought to yourself as the taxi pulled up to Christopher’s apartment building. This was the good part of Seoul: Blondie lived in Cheongdam-dong, which was where the elite and the wealthiest entertainers lived. Surely this was a mistake?

As incredible as it was to actually be going inside one of these apartment buildings, you felt nervous that you were going to break something or offend someone by looking at them for just too long.

Christopher gently pulled you along by your hand, stopping in front of the elevator bays. He looked over at you, noticing that your eyes were darting around and you seemed nervous. “What’s up?” He softly squeezed your hand, looking down at you.

A nervous laugh surprised you as it escaped your lips. “I’ve never been somewhere like this. Gangnam-gu, sure; Cheongdam-dong, yeah - but an apartment here?” You looked up to Christopher, wide-eyed and bewildered, “Who are you really?”

Ding. The arrival of the elevator interjected in your conversation, as Christopher looked down and chuckled. “C’mon,” he said with a non-committal tone to his voice, “I’ll tell you upstairs.”

The ride up to the 32nd floor was tense, and you could feel your hand starting to sweat as every inch of the skin that touched Christopher’s hand was suddenly hypersensitive. ‘Who is this man,’ you wondered to yourself as you stared at him through the corner of your eye.

“32nd floor. Please watch your step.” The soft, feminine voice of the elevator’s AI announced as you reached your destination. Christopher wordlessly pulled you along, through the doors, down the left corridor. You both paused in front of his door as he pulled his cellphone out from his other back pocket, waving it over the keyless entry at his door. 3217 was emboldened in sleek, silver lettering next to his front door. You made a mental note, ‘I should send Minji a text so she knows where to find my body if I go missing.’ It wasn’t a serious thought, but it was something that did cross your mind.

Christopher looked down to his phone, frowning as he scanned his eyes across the screen. He whispered something in English under his breath as he let go of your hand, his voice tense and uncomfortable. With his free hand, he opened the door, holding it open for you.  He pointedly looked down both sides of the corridor, making sure to press the door closed as he engaged the thick physical lock above the handle.

“I’ve gotta take care of something really quickly,” he said in a serious tone, turning to you and offering you an uneasy smile. “Feel free to help yourself to anything in here, I’ll be back in a minute.” With that, he spun on his heel and darted off to a room beyond the kitchen, his eyes glued to his phone the entire walk.

The view from the windows is what you first noticed. You could see the buildings of Seoul reach across the horizon, mesmerized by the twinkling lights across the city. It was a beautiful view, one you figure was worth the money that this surely cost. As you pulled your back to reality, you slipped your shoes off at the entrance and made your way to a barstool towards the kitchen counter. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and shot off a quick text to Minji.

Hey, I’m out with this guy I met at that party. His name is Christopher Bang. Another music producer type haha, oops. Apparently, he knows Hyunjin? Anyway, he lives in Cheongdam of all places! I’ll check in with you tomorrow at some point to make sure I’m still alive lol. Btw, you suck for leaving me at that party alone. I’ll get you back, bitch.

You add in a couple of broken heart and crying emojis at the end of the text so Minji knows you’re not actually mad at her. You also send her a pin of your location - just in case; it was something you both did as a habit. As you lock your phone and put it back in your pocket, you hear some terse yelling come from the room that Christopher is in. You’re not able to make it out from this far away, but it sounds like he’s firmly scolding someone over the phone in a mixture of what you suspect is English and Mandarin.

‘Relax,’ you mentally reassure yourself, ‘you just met the guy, he lives in the expensive part of town, he’s probably just having problems with some music deal or something. It’s fine.’

After a minute or two, you decide to grab a glass from the cupboard and fill it with water, if anything, to pass the time. As you’re turning the faucet off, Christopher comes out of the room, his hair dishevelled and another button from his shirt undone. He walks to the entryway and unceremoniously slips his shoes off. A heavy sigh escapes his lips, then he turns around and walks towards you.

“I’m really sorry about that,” he says with a pleading look on his face, “I’ve just been dealing with some issues with work and it pops up at the worst possible times. Hopefully I didn’t worry you too much?” The upward inflection at the end of his sentence and the smirk on his face as he slowly walks up to you somewhat reassures you. The lighting of the room highlights Christopher’s features in the loveliest way possible - you didn’t notice before, but he has a dimple on the right side of his face when he smiles. He was an honestly attractive man.

“It’s fine, it was just…” you smile, shake your head, and look down to your glass of water as your sentence trails off. Strange? Different? You weren’t exactly sure how to end that sentence.

Christopher picks up on your tension, and lifts his hands to your face. They are soft, and there’s a light woodsy scent that travels with them, like a faint cologne that’s slowly worn off through the night. “I’d like to make it up to you,” he softly lifts up your head, and your eyes slowly trail up to meet his. It startles you how close you are to his face, so close that you can see just how thick his eyelashes are and how deep his brown eyes are.

It happens almost mechanically. Before you really register it, your lips are up against his. It’s pensive and timid at first, but the awkwardness fades as you part your lips against his, letting your tongue travel out to touch his lips, his teeth, then his tongue. It goes from soft and romantic to passionate and intense in a split second. Christopher takes your face into his hands with purpose now, trailing his fingers back into your hair, digging his fingernails into your scalp and pulling you into him.

An anguished moan slips from his lips and it causes your stomach to do backflips. As you take the time to acquaint yourselves with each other’s mouths, Christopher’s hands drop from your head down to your waist. He breaks away from the kiss, looking at you with half-lidded eyes, before he bends down and lifts you up from your hips. You wrap your legs around his waist and giggle excitedly as he carries you from the kitchen into the room he was in earlier.

In a moment, you’re observing the ceiling of this room, as Christopher softly sets you down on the bed. You want to take in the environment, to know more about this mysterious man, but he ruins that opportunity for you as he crawls on top of you, peppering kisses from your lips, to your cheek, down your neck, and across your collarbones. He lifts his head to look at you, smiling somewhat deviously.

“Hey,” he breathes out, “you wanna try something? You can totally say no, but, I think it’ll be fun.” His voice layered in a dark, seductive tone that makes you all the more curious about him, that familiar question popping up in the back of your head: who was this man?

‘Oh no’, you think, worried that he’s going to propose some stupid or weird sexual act that’s going to completely ruin the moment. Christopher must have noticed the look on your face, because he chuckles and sits back on his heels. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing that out of the ordinary. It’s just something that I like to do now and then. Like I said, you can absolutely say no and I won’t judge you or pressure you.” He slips his hand in his front pocket and pulls out a small velvet bag.

You sit up on your elbows, curious as to what the man could possibly have in such a tiny bag. As Christopher opens the bag, he pulls out a small plastic bag with white powder, and another small bag with some baby blue tablets. He outstretches his palm towards you, letting you inspect the bags.

“I might also have an affinity for party drugs,” he says with a nervous chuckle, “comes with the music industry.”

You look down at Christopher’s palm, then back up to meet his eyes. You’re not really upset, just a bit taken aback. However, you would definitely be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t  at least somewhat curious. Part of you had a feeling this was a bad idea, but the less-logical part of you just wanted to let loose and enjoy yourself for once. When would you really, honestly get a chance to have sex with such a good looking man in an apartment you would never be able to afford in ten lifetimes?

As you bit your lip back and looked up at Christopher with a smirk, you knew and acknowledged that there were red flags in the back of your head, but you pushed them aside, sitting fully up, grabbing the tops of Christopher’s thighs.

“Let’s do it,” you excitedly whisper, against your best instincts, before you lean in to kiss Christopher again. His lips curl in a boyish, excited grin as he gives you a quick kiss back, reaching down to grab your hands from his thighs.

“Come with me.”

Christopher lays down generic ground rules before anything fun happens. He explicitly tells you that if anything makes you uncomfortable,  you need to tell him. You reassure him that, yes, you’ve tried cocaine a couple of times because it’s rampant in the modelling industry, but that the ecstasy was something foreign to you. This whole situation was foreign to you, but you continued to stuff that down and ignore it. You needed to live a little while you were still young, right?

You hear Christopher assertively say your name as he waves his hand in front of your face. “Are you listening to me? I won’t do this unless you really want to and you listen to me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you shake your head, coming back to reality. “Sorry, I was just spacing out for a second. Honestly, Christopher, I’m fine. I’ll drink water and I’ll tell you if anything makes me uncomfortable.”  Christopher’s lips tugged into a slight frown as he lifts his eyebrow. “I promise,” you reassure, grabbing his hand from his side.

“Good,” he relaxes, turning back to the kitchen counter. He grabs the blue tablets, handing one out to you. “Take this first. It’s gonna take a half-hour to really feel it, and that’s when you’re really going to want to play around. Make sure you drink the entire glass of water, too. Trust me.”

Excitedly, you grab the tablet from Christopher’s hand and slip it on your tongue, swallowing it down a bit nervously with a few sips of water. Your eyes dart up, taking in how intently Christopher is watching your every movement. When you set your glass down, he follows suit by dropping the tablet into his mouth and taking a single large drink of water from his glass.

“Okay,” he exclaims, a nervous smile on his face, “still wanna do a couple lines?”

You nod your head a bit too excitedly as you tuck your bottom lip under your teeth. Christopher smirks in response as he empties the bag onto the countertop, methodically dividing it into four lines - two for each of you. He spends time spreading it out with a card he pulled out from his wallet, holding a ₩50,000 note in his other hand.

“Alright,” he says as he stands up straight, turning to look at you. He rolls up the note into a tight cylinder and passes it off to you with a soft smile, “ladies first, yeah?” You take the note from him and look down to the countertop. With a quick breath in, you bend down - making sure to wiggle your bum a bit for good measure - and take the note to your nose, lining up the end of it to the first line. You quickly sniff up the first line, take a couple of breaths, then take in the second line.

With a perk in your step, you snap yourself back upright and look at Christopher with wide eyes and a delighted grin. His mouth is slightly agape and his eyes are wide, taking you in. “Oh my god,” he whispers in English, switching back to Korean in the same breath, “you are so much fun to watch.” You giggle and pass the note back to him.

Christopher bends down and looks up at you as he gets close to the countertop. “This one’s for you,” he says with a wink, before he inhales both lines in succession. He stands back up, quickly rubbing underneath his nostril before leaning on the countertop with his hands. He takes a quick breath, then turns back to you with an obvious fire in his eyes.

“Let’s get started, baby,” he demands, a low tone in his voice you haven’t heard yet. Christopher grabs your hand, pulling you back into what you assume is his bedroom. He leads you to the edge of the bed, guiding you down as he presses his lips to yours with a renewed hunger for you. His kiss isn’t as soft and tender as it was before: this is more calculated and determined, as if he needed to kiss you in order to save his life. He wastes no time inviting his tongue into your mouth without warning, exploring your mouth with purpose.

You can’t really help it, but you moan at the assertiveness in Christopher’s behaviour, which causes him to subconsciously grind his pelvis down into yours. There’s an obvious, apparent firmness that comes between you and a breath hitches in your throat. “Chris,” you groan out, “I want you, please.”

Christopher breaks away from the kiss, lifting his head up to look at you. “No,” he says with a wide grin on his face, “we’re going to play for a while first, baby.” He sits up onto his knees and unbuttons his shirt completely, aggressively pulling the bottom of his shirt from the waistband of his pants before haphazardly discarding it on to the floor.

You really don’t mean to stare - especially not with your jaw hanging wide open - but you find yourself transfixed on the man’s very obvious and well-sculpted torso. His abdomen is rigid, and his arms have very well defined muscles that are very distracting. Christopher laughs, stretching his hands out towards you.

“Can I?” He questions, reaching down to the hem of your shirt. You throw all caution to the wind, excitedly nodding, inching closer towards him on your knees. As he smiles at you, he grabs your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it to the ground with a bit more tact. A gasp escapes him as he draws his attention up from your abdomen, slowly up your torso, and eventually looking back up at you with a completely dumbfounded look plastered on his face.

You take this opportunity to slip your hands behind your back, grabbing each side of your bra and pushing the clips together to unhook each side, slipping the straps down each arm. The soft fabric falls from your skin as you peel it off of you and drop it off the edge of the bed.

“Wow,” Christopher breathes out, taking his hands from your hips and slowly lifting them up under your breasts. He gently cups the underside of them, and pulls you into his lap. His soft lips come crashing into yours as he sinks his hands down to the waistband of your jeans, fumbling with the button a bit before he’s able to finally undo it and slide your zipper down. Making sure not to break from the kiss, you hook your thumbs in the waistband of your pants and wiggle them off to about your knees.

Christopher guides you onto your back, giving you a quick kiss one more time before he sits up. “Let me help you out with this,” he says with a smirk as he pulls your jeans off, but leaving you in your underwear.  Your jeans easily slip off of your ankles and you can’t help but blush at how exposed you are. Almost as if he can feel your nervousness and insecurities pop up, He smiles and leans down to kiss you for a moment.

“You’re beautiful,” he says with a smile, kissing you again before he steps down to the floor. Your eyes follow him, looking at the way his tongue does a quick pass over his lips before he bites the bottom one and moves to unbutton his pants. The skin-tight material provides a bit of difficulty as he struggles to get the legs to slip down past his thighs, but they come off easily after they pass his knees.

“Man, it’s way easier getting those on than off,” Christopher laughs as he steps out of his pants. He stands upright, and that’s when you realize he’s completely naked.

“Oh my god,” you say with a bit of shock to your voice. It’s a bit embarrassing, you can’t help but stare because his cock is right there and obvious and very hard. It’s larger than you expected, and you subconsciously suck your bottom lip under your teeth as you stare up at him.

He awkwardly laughs as he walks around the bed, sitting at the empty space next to you. “I don’t know if you’re feeling it yet or not, but I really want you to come over here and ride my face right now.”

The sheer bluntness of Christopher’s statement causes a tingling in your stomach and makes your head start to feel fuzzy and tingly. Maybe the ecstasy was starting to kick in after all, because you felt soft and really affectionate. “You want me to do what?” You question, nervously smiling. This was something none of your previous boyfriends or one-night stands had ever done, never mind enthusiastically wanting to try it.

Christopher turns back, grabbing the pillow from your side of the bed, putting it on top of the pillow behind him. He then leans back, resting his head on the pillows, and he tugs your wrist gently, pulling you over him, straddling his waist. “Come on, I promise you’ll enjoy it. If you don’t, then I’ll stop and do whatever you want, okay?”

You have to admit, he has a way with words and you were curious if he could actually make you come or if he just had an oversized ego. “Alright,” you say with a nervous smile, your eyes darting down to Christopher’s chest. His eyes light up and he grabs your hips with a bit too much excitement.

“Really?” The way that he earnestly smiles is really cute. “You wouldn’t believe it, but most women I’ve been with don’t want to try it. It’s something I love doing.” He lets out a giggle and hooks his index fingers into the waistband of your panties. “Can I?”

A wave of excitement takes over - yeah, the drugs are fully kicking in now - and you nod your head a couple of times. “Fuck yes,” Christopher says under his breath as he pulls your panties down in one quick motion, guiding your both of legs out of them. He grabs your hips again and looks up at you with half-open eyes, “Come to me, baby.”

It feels like your inhibitions have completely left you as you shift your pelvis up to Christopher’s face. He reaches his tongue out and takes a quick taste of you, looking up at you very eagerly. A smile comes across his face and he pulls you down onto him fully. Once you’ve rested on his chin, he wastes no time lapping you up.

His tongue is warm and the way it feels on your sensitive skin is enough to make your head spin. A wave of happiness flows up from your toes all the way to your head, giving you a body-wide tingle. As you start to feel warm all around, Christopher takes his tongue and presses it up against your clit, slowly licking you up from the middle of his tongue all the way to the tip. You choke out a moan and slam your hands on the wall ahead of you.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan out, looking down to Christopher, who has a very happy grin plastered on his face.

“Does it feel good, baby?” He moans out in between aggressive licks, taking one of his hands from your hips and slipping it in between your legs. “If you like that,” he says as he slides one of his fingers inside of you, “you’re going to love this.”

Your eyes shoot wide open and you curl your fingers on the wall. A squeak escapes from your lips as Christopher takes another finger and inserts it into you, fingers slowly riding in and out, curling towards your pelvic bone when they’re fully inside of you. Suddenly, the room is unbearably hot and your nerves are on fire. The drugs were having a tremendous effect on you, and everything felt more intense than you had ever experienced.

Christopher took his free hand, grabbing your thigh to steady you. “It’s alright, baby, I’ve got you. You’re not going anywhere, so relax.” His voice is soothing and the calming tone of his voice somehow turns you on more. Your hands slip down the wall a bit and your head falls onto your forearm.

“If you stop one more, ah, time, I swear,” breathy moans accent your words, “I swear I will, ah, kill you, Christopher Bang. Fuck.”

A laugh comes from him, “I’d like to see you try.” As you try to come up with a witty quip, he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you fervently, sucking your clit into his mouth as he gives frequent small licks to you.

The intensity is almost too much to handle. Whines keep leaving you subconsciously and you turn to bite your arm to stifle your moans. Your teeth dig into your skin, and you’re sure it’s going to leave a bruise tomorrow. Christopher is relentless, his fingers and tongue working in tandem, and it’s causing your brain to melt. The heat building up in the pit of your stomach is unbearable; your legs start to shake, and you feel close to climaxing.

“Fuck, I’m gonna,” you squeak out in a panicked voice, “Chris, I’m gonna come!”

Christopher moves his hand from your hip to the small of your back, somehow working you even harder. With one last press of his fingers against your g-spot, your head snaps up, straightening your back. You scream out his name at the top of your lungs as your orgasm takes control of you. There’s something about this orgasm that’s otherworldly, it feels almost as if you can feel every nerve in your body vibrate within you and it feels incredible. In your blurry state, you make a mental note to try this more often, the drugs and the face-riding.

Reality slowly comes back to you as you roll off of Christopher and to the side of the bed. “Holy shit,” you breathe out, “that was incredible.” You turn your head to look at him and his pupils are fully blown out, a proud grin on his face.

“You look like you had a good time, yeah?” He questions, rolling over onto his side and resting his head on his palm. “What’d I tell you?”

“Yeah, you were right,” a giddy smile is plastered on your face that you can’t seem to relax, “I did enjoy myself. I think you might have ruined me from anyone else for a while.” You both share a good laugh and the room falls quiet. The nerves in your body have calmed down a bit, but your heart is still racing.

Christopher rolls over, reaching for a bottle of water on the nightstand. He takes a quick drink and passes it to you. “Here, you definitely need this. And you’re not allowed to say no, remember? Hydration’s important.” Too exhausted to argue, you nod your head and take a couple of sips from the bottle. You hand the bottle back and he puts it back on the nightstand. As you’re about to thank him, he takes you by surprise by crawling over you and crashes his lips against yours.

“We’re not done yet,” he says with an ominous tone, breaking away from the kiss, “Not even close. Are you ready for me, baby?” Your eyes widen and you look down between your legs. Christopher is there and you’re concerned if he’ll actually fit. After staring for a second too long, you look up at him with pleading eyes and nod your head. “Alright.”

He sits back on his heels and licks his hand. Once he’s got enough saliva on his hand, he grabs his cock and starts slowly stroking himself, biting his lip as he looks directly at you. “What? Like what you see?” Christopher smiles, then brings himself back down to your level. “I’m gonna go inside you now, are you ready?” You look up at him nervously and quickly nod your head in agreement a couple of times. “No, I want you to tell me you want it.”

Your face is suddenly hot with embarrassment; somehow, this was more embarrassing than sitting on someone else’s face. Christopher puts a reassuring hand on your cheek, then gives a peck to your forehead. “C’mon, baby, tell me.”

“I want you,” you nervously gulp, but find the confidence you need, “I want you to fuck me like it’s your last day on earth.”

Your words make it seem like a spark is ignited in Christopher: his eyes darken and he suddenly gets a serious look on his face. In an instant, he’s pushing himself inside you, the painful but wonderful sensation of being filled up makes you roll your eyes and head backwards. You reach up your hands haphazardly into his hair, gripping tightly once you have fistfuls in each hand.

“Fuck,” he groans once he’s completely inside you. “Baby, you feel like heaven. I’m gonna move, okay?” You nod your head a bit more excitedly than you were intending to, but it makes him smile. He pulls himself out all the way, then quickly slams his hips against yours. The sudden movement causes you to arch your back and moan louder than you expected you could.

Christopher leans down, his arms on either side of your head. He brings his face to yours and sloppily kisses you as he rocks his hips back and forth, grinding the tip of his cock against your cervix. You open your mouth, letting your tongues explore each other. As he keeps moving, he takes his left hand and brings it up to your hair, gripping it. The tugging of your hair causes a lightning strike of nerves to light up for a split second.

“Chris,” you moan into his mouth, breath hitching in your throat as his pace quickens, “fuck me harder!”

Your request makes him break from your kiss. He reaches his arms down to your legs and places them both over his right shoulder. “Alright, baby, just tell me if it’s too much,” he smiles deviously and starts thrusting into you again. The new positioning takes you by surprise, making every small movement that much more intense.

Profanity punctuates each thrust as you moan and cry almost incoherently. It feels like you’re starting to lose your grip on reality. It’s probably the combination of this position and the drugs, but your body feels like it’s on an entirely different plane of existence. Every single cell in your body feels like it’s going to explode and you can’t stop yourself from crying out Christopher’s name over and over.

“That’s it, baby,” his voice brings you back a bit, providing you a sense of anchorage in your bliss, “you belong to me tonight.” He fucks you faster and a bit more sloppily, his cadence no longer keeping up a steady rhythm. “Fuck, if I keep going like this,” he cuts himself off, moaning out your name, “baby, I’m gonna come, can I come inside you?”

Words just won’t come to you, so you settle for vigorously nodding your head. Christopher puts one of his arms down on the bed next to you and puts most of his weight on to it. “Fuck,” he groans and tucks his head into his chest, “fuck!” He thrusts into you one more time and bottoms out, twitching as his cum fills you up in rhythmic spurts.

You both stay like this for a moment, before he releases your legs down to his sides. He leans in and lazily kisses you before rolling over, panting and clearly out of breath.

“That was,” he sighs, turning his head in your direction with half-open eyes, “that was incredible. Yeah? How are you feeling?”

Normally, you wouldn’t curl up into a one-night stand, but tonight has you feeling a certain type of way. You crawl into Christopher’s chest and smile, “I feel amazing. That was the most fun I’ve had in so long.”

Christopher laughs, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin against the top of your head. “I’m glad. Let’s do this again in the morning.” You both let out soft giggles and relax into each other. As sleep starts to overtake you, you swear you hear your cell phone buzzing. “Whatever,” you think, “it can’t be that important.”

As you’d find out the next morning, you were wrong. It was incredibly important.

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