she looks so sexy

2

Yall asked.

I provided.

bartender!jin + he’s just not that into you au


No matter how many times Jin ran over the totals report for the other night the numbers didn’t seem to be adding up. He had spent an almost mind numbing amount of time calculating receipts and cursing his father for not trusting any of his staff enough to tally their own totals for the night—and granted, the old geezer had every right not to trust his staff before Jin had stepped in, pulling rank and firing the four or five servers and bar backs that were pocketing tips from the cash register. But that was before and this wasn’t Jin’s area of expertise, no he ran the front of house, he managed the staff, made sure the bar was impeccable, and the floor was running smoothly. All this shit, the accountant shit was his brothers job.

But the useless fuck had managed to weasel vacation time out of their Dad and sure, maybe he deserved it but Seokjin had been working the same weekends and holiday shifts he’d been pulling year round, granted Jin didn’t have a newborn or wife but semantics.


“Knock knock.”

Jin barely managed to tear his eyes away from the receipts spread out in front of him, but when he does he’s met with sultry brown eyes and a pouty lower lip—also known as last nights mistake, or if he were to be more specific Seulgi. Jin cards a hand through a his blonde locks and braces himself for what he knows is coming, because he makes a habit of not sleeping with his employees but shit just doesn’t always pan out, now does it?

“Hey, babe.” He nods, “Did you need something?”

She smirks at the pet name and Jin mentally chastises himself for thinking he could try and maintain the endearing manager-employee relationship they hadd before, “No. Just thought I’d drop by… you scheduled me for swing instead of my morning shift.”

“Yeah,” Jin begins slowly, gesturing with his pen and wishing she would speed it up, because he had work to do.

“Um,” she begins to lose confidence when he doesn’t react, only blankly stares at her as though she’s stating the obvious, “I-I had a lot of fun last night.”

Jin sucks his lower lip between his teeth before nodding, “Yeah, it was.”

A pregnant pause follows his answer and he doesn’t go to fill it because there’s nothing to say. Last night was a mistake on his part but they were both consenting adults and she was just as much at fault as he was—he made no promises and he sure has hell had no intentions of making any now.

“Did you schedule me tonight on purpose?” She asks quietly.

“Seulgi,” Jin says, his voice stern but not cold, “We’re short staffed and I needed a hostess, that’s why I scheduled you.”

Seulgi’s lips form a perfect ‘o’ and it’s as if realization only just dawned on her. Seokjin pretends not to notice the a awkward atmosphere he’s created.

“We good, now?” He implores when it’s all but silent in the office, save for her scuffing her work shoes. She nods mutely but her jaws clenched, “I’ll see you on the floor then.”

Jin winces at the force she uses the slam the already creaky door shut before returning his attention to those damn totals and deposits.


You heard somewhere in a movie that all you needed was twenty seconds, just twenty second of an insane amount of courage, twenty seconds of near embarrassing bravery and it would all be worth it in the end—that you would reap something great for all your efforts.

But sometimes, as it is, life is unfair. And you can try and try, and give it your all but sometimes you lose. For no profound reason, or life lesson, but because the universe deemed it necessary, to keep balance. And even if you’ve won nine hundred and ninety-nine times sometimes it feels like all you remember is your one lost.

“Why isn’t he calling me back?” You murmur, worrying your lip between your teeth.

Your cellphone had been sitting in your hand for the better part of the night, no better part of the week waiting for his call, his text, his anything. You had refused to go anywhere without your phone, you brought it with you into the bathroom, when you were doing yoga, sometimes you would wake up in the middle of the night just to check, because you didn’t want to miss it. And the circumstance was no different now, even with your hair bundled in a towel and your face, freshly scrubbed pressed against the flannel of your pajama pants while you sit on your bedroom floor. You look down and wiggle your toes, painted cornflower blue this week, in an attempt to distract yourself.

Another sigh leaves your lips and you try not to wallow in regret because you should’ve given up four days ago but it stung.

Your twenty seconds of courage hand landed you a date with Min Yoongi, the apple of your eye since you had entered college—the two of you were acquaintances, you didn’t know each other well enough to be labeled friends. But you knew from the moment you saw him that he would star in every horribly cheesy eighties rom com fantasy you had from that day on. A crush.

A college crush and your heart felt like it would beat out of your chest when you worked up the nerve at a frat party. You didn’t go out often but you made an exception, because you were gonna do it that night. You would swallow your fears and have your twenty seconds of insane courage because Min Yoongi was worth more than that.

So with sweaty palms and a hummingbird heartbeat you had approached him when the party was in full swing, his cheeks were flushed from the liquor and he was surrounded by a group of guys. As if that wasn’t scary enough, he was a good deal older than you, a senior to your freshman but he TA’d one of your classes and sometimes he put smiley faces on your test papers. So with wide eyes and Yoongi looking at you curiously if but a bit expectantly you had asked him, in front of all those people and if he gave even the slightest inclination of discomfort you would’ve backed out. But he didn’t.

He smiled at you warmly, ignoring the whoops and hollers and pulling you to sit down next to him the couch. You nearly fainted when he threw an arm around you, brushed your hair behind your ear to speak a ’yes’ over the thumping bass.

And then was the actual date.

He was everything you thought he’d be, witty, intelligent, with a dry humor that bordered self deprecating and you could barely keep your eyes off him. His black fringe was overgrown but he managed well enough, his eyes smiling at you whenever you tripped over your words or flushed too deep at a compliment.

“You’re cute and sweet,” he said, pushing a strand of hair off your face, “Like the girl next door I never had, you know?”

You just let out a soft laugh because you didn’t know, but you knew you liked the compliment, you would’ve liked any compliment he gave you. He could’ve said he liked your fingernail on your left pointer and you probably would have combusted right there. He stopped you in front of the fountain in the middle of the quad, his hands cupping your cheeks and you thought this was it. He was going to kiss you—

…r forehead?

“I had fun tonight.” He murmured.

“Me too.” You breathe.

“I have an early morning tomorrow, but you’ll be okay to make it up to your dorm?” He queries, and his hands are still on your cheeks, stroking the skin, you don’t think you can breathe much less answer but…

“Mhm,” you choke out and Yoongi sends you a small smile.

“Great. I’ll call you, then, yeah?” He retracts his hands and they’re being shoved into pockets.

And you’re nodding at him, biting your lip to contain a dumb grin before he’s waving at you with both hands and walking backwards.

Boys were confusing, you decide. And you had never been that great with them, or confident. You realized early on people saw you as the ‘little sister type,’ you were always too sweet, and too soft and they were afraid of hurting you but you somehow ended up being hurt either way.

“Is being nice such a bad thing?” You grumble to yourself before kicking your phone away from you.


“Guys just aren’t into sweet girls, nowadays babe.” Krystal coos to you and she sends you a glare when you’re glancing back down at your phone. “Please don’t tell me you’re still waiting on Min fucking Yoongi’s call.”

“I’m sure he’ll call.” You grumble before flicking at your full glass of beer—if you left this one untouched again Krystal would probably force you to give her the six bucks it was worth but you didn’t do well with alcohol. “And what’s so horrible about being sweet?”

“Nothing!” Krystal jumps to reassure you, but you didn’t believe it this time around, “it’s just you’re the marrying type, you know? The good girl and not the kind that’s like only bad for daddy. You’re the kind of girl guys bring home to meet their mom.”

“So what am I supposed to do just never have sex until I’m married?” You sigh, before proceeding stubbornly, “I really liked Yoongi and I think he liked me too!”

“Maybe, I don’t know, change your image a little, so you’re not so girl next door,” you wince at her unintentional repetition of Yoongi’s earlier words but still, you glance from Krystal to yourself.

There was a vast difference in appearance, from her jeans that seemed to be painted on to her simple camisole top—her style was simplistic but emphatic, plus her model like looks didn’t hurt either. You on the either hand… you weren’t ugly, far from it and you knew that but like she said you were just so sweet looking and any attempts to dress sexy or posh like Krystal looked disturbing like a twelve year old trying on their big sisters clothes. So you stuck to flannels and mom jeans, boring but at least you didn’t look weird.


“But you know what,” Krystal chimes, interrupting your train of thought, “maybe you’re right. You have a good read on people. Yoongi’s a TA he’s probably swamped with work and honestly ___, I know you don’t know this but… you can be kind of intimidating.”

Even Krystal winces at her own lie but she pushes through it when she sees your eyes light up.

Me? Intimidating?” You repeat.

“Yeah!” She says, forcing enthusiasm. God why did you have to look so fucking adorable and doe-eyed it made it really hard to tell you the truth. “I mean, you give off this like too good for you church girl vibe you know? Like… ‘You can’t have my virginity, you gotta work for it in the name of Jesus!’”

You open your mouth and tilt your head at her, not entirely sure that was a compliment, but you never get a chance to ask your question because she’s barreling on.

“But tell you what” Krystal says brightly, “why don’t you forget Min Yoongi and let me introduce you to my friend Jimin.”

“Jimin?” You frown, you remember her mentioning something about him in the past, but it was always in passing and it never stuck.

“Yes, Jimin. He’s a freshman like you and he’s in my communications class.” And then suddenly her focus isn’t on you anymore, she’s too busy pulling up her Facebook on her phone to flash you a picture, “He’s sweet and he reminds me so much of you it’s crazy.”

“Then why don’t you date him.” You grumble stubbornly but she hears it and smacks you on the arm.

“Don’t sass me I’m only trying to help.” She rolls her eyes. “What do you think of him?”

You take the phone from her hands to get a better look at him and you cock your head to the side. He had a sweet looking face, so innocent and cherubic… he was attractive but you couldn’t imagine yourself kissing him and it made you wonder if that’s how people felt when they saw you? And then that made you sad, so you handed her phone back soundlessly.

“So?” she prods.

“He’s cute.” You relent with a shrug, but you feel unsure, uncomfortable and you loved Krystal to death but she had a way of… pushing her agenda on you.

And Park Jimin happened to be the first bullet point listed.

“Perfect I’ll text him and set up the date.” She says almost instantly and you’re clutching her wrist before she can do anything of the sort.

“But…”

“But?” she insists.

“He’s not my type.” You sigh, before adjusting the brim of your hat, and remind yourself that people—girls don’t wear hat in bars, at least not in the way you’ve styled it, with a half ass ponytail and some converse. You look like you’re about to babysit someone’s kid.

“What do you mean he’s not your type, ____?” Krystal scoffs in that way she does when she’s trying to give you tough love but you’re soft and it kind of hurts your feelings, “Why? Because he looks like he’ll actually return your texts?”

You look up at her on that note and you can tell she regrets the words almost as soon as they leave her mouth but it’s fine, it’s the truth, it’s not her fault you were sensitive. It doesn’t change the stiff smile you give her before nodding solemnly.

“I didn’t mean it like that—”

“I’m just gonna head to the bar, yeah?” You say with a lightness you don’t feel, and then you’re making your way over, pushing through throngs of sweaty, gyrating people in an attempt to forget that you were so easily undesirable. “Don’t wait up for me, I’ve got cab money.”


Jin loved and hated college night. Because it was fun, he didn’t go out much these days, at least not in the way he used to in his college days so he got to be apart of the party without actually… being in the party. But at the same time, the bar was slammed, the waitresses had them overflowing with orders not to mention the orders from patrons, impatiently flagging him down—on top of all that they were short a bar back so Jin was running back and forth to try and fill orders as well as making sure they stayed afloat with liquor and beer. But he was used to this. This was his life, it was fun and exciting and busy and he enjoyed his work. So he navigated smoothly, managing to pick up forgotten orders and stop more than one drunken fight.

“We’re eighty-six on Malibu and pine.” someone calls over his shoulder and he turns back smoothly, cocking a brow.

“The Malibu or the pine?” He scoffs.

“Both!”

“What the fuck are they doing in the back? Snorting it?” Jin groans before doubling back to cancel all ten orders of Malibu and pine because college girls loved that shit and would run it through an IV if they could.

It isn’t until he’s about all but cleared the raging hormonal fucks from his bar that he finally spots you, you’re so tiny he probably would’ve missed you if it wasn’t for the added height of the barstool, still he makes sure to check you when he doubles back.

“Hey, you doing okay? What can I get for—whoa.” He says before throwing the dishrag over his shoulder. He rubs a hand behind his neck before tipping his head at you, “You mind if I uh, see I.D.?”

You almost don’t hear him over the rushing over your ears because he’s beautiful enough to induce that type of reaction. His hair is platinum blonde and disheveled and he somehow manages to make perspiration look like a glowy, sparkling mist kissing his skin but mostly his cheekbones. His cheeks are flushed from exertion and he licks his lips, waiting for you to respond but you were caught up in the veins of his arm, and the way they danced their way up under the rolled sleeves of his dress shirts.

“I-… I sorry…” you stammer and it’s not from nervousness, not that kind, because you don’t like him, you’re not attracted to him. But he just has one of those faces. The kind that’s so beautiful it’s almost shocking and you think about how good he’d look with Krystal before handing him over your drivers license.

“21.” He hums, glancing at your picture before back at you, “A good year. Sorry about that, you look really, really young. The last thing I need are the cops in this place, you understand.”

You nod quietly and don’t mention that he was kind of rude, because you were used to it.

“So what can I get you?” He asks, and the bar is dead enough now that he can brace two arms on it and relax for one fucking second.

“Can I just get whatever you have on tap?” You ask and you to raise your voice from practice, from years of being told you’re too soft spoken.

“You got it.”

It isn’t another minute before he’s setting your beer down in front of you and unlike the last that Krystal has plied you with you actually drink this one because you want to, because you’re sad and you deserve it. Your brain is swimming with countless thoughts of Yoongi, some of Krystal and the boy she wanted to set you up with—jimmy? You couldn’t remember his name, but you should probably take her up on it because unlike you, your friends had an unlikely knack for actually finding guys that were interested in you. The only thing was you were rarely ever interested in them. Was it so bad to want to explore outside of your league of accountants and research assistants? You were 21, you wanted fun, and despite Krystal’s insistence on you being the marrying type and scaring guys off, it wasn’t like you wanted to get married right now either.

No. You just wanted sex. A hookup, a boyfriend. Fuck something.

Somewhere along the way your one beer had doubled and then tripled until you were leaning your face on your palm and close to falling asleep on the bar. Because you weren’t a loud drunk, God no, even inebriated you couldn’t express yourself properly and while you couldn’t handle your alcohol you at least weren’t sloppy or messy. Just a little drowsy and slightly disheveled, which is what drew Jin to you when the night was dying down and he was tallying the nights receipts against the bar, ready to close out.

“Hey,” he calls out, tapping the brim of your hat when you don’t respond right away and you’re startled into a state of awareness when he’s leaning on his elbows to talk to you, “you good? You got a friend, boyfriend here to take you home? Or you need a cab.”

Your patting your cheeks to wake you up before shaking your head, “Sorry are you guys closing? I’m just gonna wal—”

“Please don’t.” He sighs and your raising a brow at him, “it’d be mighty inconvenient for me if you were drunk and murdered and my bar was tied to your case on the front page news.”

You glare at him before sweeping bangs from your face, “How considerate of you.”

“Can’t have anyone sullying our good name—even patrons.” He grins before nodding at you, “Let me call you a cab.”

“I told you I’ll be fine. I don’t have money for one anyway. I spent it all on your overpriced alcohol.”

“It’s overpriced because we don’t water it down like the other bars on this block. Besides no one told your broke ass to go drinking, I should just let you get murdered, little girl.” He retorts, and he’s almost amused by how you’re glaring at him, “But you remind me of my niece so I won’t.”

It was poor timing on his part. Because while it wasn’t this bartender—who, now that you glanced at his name tag, you knew as Jin instead of 'blonde asshole'—who was responsible for years and years of being compared to things like babies and puppies and nieces and sisters and just fucking the most platonic and non-fuckable things on the planet, life was all about timing. You knew that better than anyone because you apparently were shit at. And so was he. Because with all the liquor and bottled up emotions coming to a head and years of just sheer frustration of being treated like a kid when you were a grown ass woman, you started spilling over.

“You’re a real jerk, you know that?” You spew and while he’s slightly surprised by your outburst, he’s had enough years training with drunks that he masks it well, “Don’t you think that makes me feel like shit? I’m not someone’s niece or kid sister or a goddamn puppy! I’m a woman. Who wants things and has dreams and aspirations and fucking job and apartment and desires. Like actual, real dick me down desires but I can’t ever say any of that because it’s weird because I’m everyone’s kid sister. Well news fucking flash I’m not. I’m not the girl next door, I’m just a regular person who is trying and failing to get laid and people like you are the reason I can’t.”

Jin blinks at you at a few times before raising a hand at the staff who were still straggling behind, picking up here and there and openly staring at you.

“Me?” He repeats, “I’m the sole purpose that your sex life—or rather lack thereof, is failing?”

“Not you, per se but people like you!” You point an accusing finger at him before leaning back with a pout and Jin wonders if you know how childish you look.

Jin closes his eyes because he did not need this shit but the quicker he got you to spill the quicker he got you the fuck out of here and he was on his merry fucking way. He rubs the back of his head before gesturing to you.

“Go ahead.” He sighs, “Unload, then.”

“Try not to sound so enthusiastic about it.” You grunt.

“Well excuse the fuck out of me, Jan, I just finished a ten hour shift and despite what quirky sitcoms suggest bartenders aren’t actually here to listen to your problems, in fact we don’t want to, I sure as fuck don’t make a therapist salary and even therapist have to go see therapist because people dump on them so much. So no I’m not too fucking fond of hearing your shitty boy problems but lay them on me so I can clock the fuck out and go to bed.” He sighs.

“Jan?” You frown.

“You know,” he says, gesturing wildly, “from the Brady Bunch. She was the much younger, much uglier sister, always bitching about Marcia? Doesn’t ring a bell—how fucking old are you?

“Not old enough.” You scoff, “And are you calling me ugly?”

“I’m calling you a brat,” he corrects, “now spill. Who’s the guy?”

You bite your lip for a moment before eyeing him suspiciously, “He’s my TA.”

“So an older dude, I’m assuming.” Jin reasons, “And what? Is he leading you around by the tail?”

It was such an outdated phrase that you wince at his age showing, making him glare.

“He said he would call and he didn’t.” You explain before letting out an exasperated sigh, “But the date went so well! And he was always so nice to me in class and when I asked him out at the party he said yes and he was so affectionate. And then before the night ended he kissed me on the forehead, which God! I know screams platonic but my friend Jisoo said she knows a girl who knows this guy who has a cousin who’s sister used to always get forehead kissed by this dude so she thought they were friends and then five years down the road they ended up getting married—”

“Okay stop.” Jin says, waving a hand in front of you before pinching the bridge of his nose, “When you asked him out at the party did he happen to be drunk?”

“He seemed buzz but I—”

“Were there a lot of people around when you did it?” He sighed.

“I mean his friends, yeah but what does that have to do wit—”

“It was a pity date.” Jin says firmly and your narrowing your eyes on him.

“How do you know that?” You glare, “Maybe he likes me—”

“You put him in an uncomfortable position and when I look at you I look at a girl that while I wouldn’t date you I wouldn’t go out of my way to like fucking crush your spirits.” He explains, “He went on the date out of obligation but he’s not returning your calls because he wasn’t feeling it.”

“But he could have not returned my calls for any reason!” You argue.

Seokjin pins you with a bored expression, “Name one.”

“He could’ve been busy at work, or maybe I missed it and it went to voicemail or maybe he got hit by a car and died! I don’t know!”

“Kid,” Jin sighs, “If it looks like shit, and it smells like shit it’s probably shit. He’s dodging you because he doesn’t want you.”

You pretend not to feel the sharp tug of pain at his words and barrel on, plied with liquid courage, “But I told you! I knew this girls who knew this girl—”

“There will always be girls who know girls who know girls who have been in the exact shitty situation that you have been in that ended up with a happy ending.” Jin laughs bitterly before jabbing a finger at the pristine surface of the bar, “But they’re the exception and you’re the rule.”

“What’s the rule?” You querie.

“That if a guy wants you he’ll bust ass to prove it to you.” Jin states, “Women claim men are simple creatures but love to complicate the facts.”

“Well how do you know I’m not an exception too?” You implore stubbornly.

“Because, if we were all exceptions then there wouldn’t be a rule, now would there?” Jin says, tonguing his cheek as he leaned back against the opposite bar. “Who is this guy? I’ll tell you if he’s an ass or not, I have a way of telling through names.”

“Yoongi.” You say softly but you’re looking down at the smooth surface of the bar so you don’t see Jin’s eyebrows raise in amusement.

“Min Yoongi?” Jin presses and your head is lifting hopefully.

“You know him?” You ask.

“He’s a regular here. We’ve hung out a couple times. He’s too old for you.” Jin says and he hopes its off putting enough, because he knows Yoongi, knows the kind of guy he is, birds of a feather flock together after all.

And while you were bratty and kind of annoying, whether you liked it or not you really did have an endearing sister trait to you. Now Jin wasn’t necessarily gonna prostrate himself to protect you, but he’d give you advice, warn you off the guy if he could, save a good kid like you from a heartbreak.

You were too soft, too innocent and not the kind, guys like him or Yoongi, wanted to corrupt. Not the sex kitten type. No you were Lilly white, virginal type and Jin wasn’t the best of the best but he didn’t stray that far from the light.

“It’s only a four years.” You argue, and Jin pretends not to notice the soft smile that comes to your face when you talk about Yoongi.

“I’m gonna be real with you because your friends probably won’t be and I’m breaking every guy code there is out there by doing this but—” your smile slips and Jin pushes on, “He’s not going to call you and before you told me his name I was half sure of that but now I’m positive because I know Yoongi and you’re not his type.”

“And what’s his type?”

Jin glances down at your chest and you follow his line of gaze before flushing when he raises his brow at you. Your hands flutter around your flannel until your pulling it closed tightly and Jin’s rolling his eyes at you.

“Slutty.” Jin says bluntly. “So do yourself a favor and find another guy, preferably one that’s into you, around your age and not an asshole.”

You don’t look back up at him after that, because even drunk you still had your pride, and shame was burning a dark course across your cheeks, barely concealed by the low brim of your hat. So instead, you push back from your stool before sending him a gracious smile.

“Thanks Jin.” You say honestly before grabbing your purse, “I’ll just… be on my way.”

“Wait!” He’s stopping you with a hand and you blink up at him, “Let me call you a cab, on the house for like breaking your heart and shit.”

“I live down the street and one of my friends is just getting out of the club next door.” You lie. “I’ll be fine.”

He lets you go but he does it eyeing you suspiciously with an accusing finger in your direction, “Don’t get murdered… or else.”

“Got ya..” You roll your eyes and then your pushing it out of the bar and into the cold, windy streets with a sigh. Your heart wasn’t broken, it wasn’t. You were disappointed at best, you just thought that you deserved at least an explanation, right?


new drabble/au series!!!!! eeeeepppppppp theres maybe a two more chapters??? hopefully !!!! 

Redemption (Part 1)

A/N: Finally finally finally I am finished! I’m sorry for the delay. Between work and school hitting me like a truck, it’s been hard finding time to write. Thank you to everyone who has been supportive during this! Especially @thesmutofthemendes​ who has been there every time I’ve been ready to trash this piece lol. I am nervous about this one, but I hope you all like it! Apologies for any errors I edited this quickly. Feedback is definitely appreciated :)

The sound of her moans is what he recalls the most. Glorious mewls that send him over the edge. He swears he can still hear the desperate cries she let escape her mouth as she rode him that night. That crazy night. Begging him for more, that’s what really fucked him over. The memory of watching her body tremble as she reaches her orgasm, clenching around him. But the smell, the smell of her drenched cunt is what he likes to remember most. The sweetest thing he’s ever smelt—ever tasted.

The hazed club they stand in smells of weed and alcohol as it’s packed to the brim with millennials stumbling drunkenly around the room, but he doesn’t seem to take much notice. Only focusing on what’s in front of him, Shawn’s calloused fingers are on her waist as they stand near the illuminated exit sign, and all he can think about is her. He’s been fighting the past few days, trying to move on from what happened between them. It was supposed to only be a one-night deal, but letting go has been difficult for him. He needs her again, he’s become addicted almost. Mesmerized by the thought of her. Ever sense he watched her petite figure stumble down the hallway to his bedroom. Ever sense he slid the straps of her black dress off her shoulders and watched as it dropped to the floor. The next morning, watching her leave was the hardest. Acting as if the whole night was no big deal—a messy mistake even as she grabbed her shoes and left with a rushed “goodbye” leaving her red lips. As if hours before she wasn’t perched on his bed, her gorgeous legs spread just for him with her ass jutted out against him meeting his hips as he took her so beautifully from behind. Growling as she sent him into the most intense state of euphoria that he’s ever experienced.

He craves her. He craves her in every way imaginable. He craves her taste lingering in his mouth. He craves her warm breath on his neck as moans tumble from her lips. He craves watching her slowly take off each layer of her clothing right there in front of him. He craves her wanting eyes. He craves her nails sinking into his back. He craves to hear her scream his name as satisfaction runs through his veins. He craves her. 

He’s focusing on letting his hands run down her body, and she can feel herself through her panties as she squeezes her thighs together—she’s drenched.

She knows it’s wrong to want this, to want him. Their last encounter was a mistake. He caught her when she was at her weakest—alone and vulnerable. She was at the bar that night after breaking up with her cheating boyfriend of three years who left her for one of her friend. Normally, she wouldn’t have gone for someone with such an age difference, but Shawn was different and just happened to be at the right place at the right time. He was just a fling, a rebound, she kept telling herself. But the feeling of his hard cock pressed against the globe of her ass makes it hard for her to reason with herself.

He’s admiring the way she looks, a short, satin dress looking almost as if it’s some article of lingerie with a black sweater pulled over it. All nicely tied together with a pair of black pumps. She looks so fucking sexy. Taking her in. He wants her, just to feel her around him one last time before he calls it quits. He places a searing kiss on her cheek making her skin ignite. “Come with me,” he whispers against her skin. His eyes playing with her, hoping that she’ll give in. She shakes her head rejecting the idea as she turns to face him, fixing his collar, “you know that’s not smart, love. That night should have never happened.” She’s trying to be strong for herself. She drags her finger across his bottom lip. As if almost instinct, he opens his mouth and sucks harshly on her thumb. She raises her eyebrow as she pulls her finger away hearing his mouth elicit a ‘pop’ from the absence of her finger. Just a fling, dammit just a FLING she repeats in her head. Why does he have to be so cute? He’s very good looking and mature for his age.

The way he sucks her finger makes her remember all the ways that he was so good to her body. “Somebody has forgotten self control,” she purrs. He blushes. The sexual tension radiating between them.

His voice rasps with determination, “please, just one more night love. Let me show you, let me change your mind.” His touch sets fire to her skin as he lifts her chin up to make better eye contact. She shakes her head at him again as she tries to convince him once again that they can never work. He is so busy and always on the move due to tour. Surrounded by all these gorgeous, talented women who he can have whenever he pleases while she is average and tied here, devoted to her fashion merchandising job that she just got promoted in. Plus, she could never be with someone his age. It just wouldn’t work out. Why does he even want her? She’s genuinely curious. Anyway, the point is that it’s easier for them to be apart no matter how hard that may be for both of them to grasp.

Brown eyes are pleading at this point, “please, just stay the night. It’s all I ask. I just—fuck I just haven’t been able to forget you, doll. Your body has been on my mind since the moment you left through the door. Give me one more, just one more. If you still decide that this isn’t what you want, you can leave. Deal?”

She contemplates for a moment. She is alone, but this won’t end well. What if one of them gets too attached? Red flag. She knows leaving is her best option. But she rules against it for some reason. Every bone in her body is telling her no. Telling her that she is stupid for being here tonight. For coming to meet him. She feels like an idiot for what she decides to do next. She should have just stayed at home and watched old reruns of Friends but nope, here she fucking is about to give into him. Damn him.

His gaze catches hers, his eyes hopeful. She closes her eyes and lets out a strangled breath. Fine. “Lead the way,” she caves and grabs his hand. She swallows hard and follows behind him. Kicking herself for agreeing to leave with him.


He holds her hand tight as he pulls her behind him up the stairs to his condo. He can’t help but be in a hurry. The thought of touching her, tasting her—again makes his patience quickly ware thin. They finally make it to his place as he’s fiddling with the keys to quickly get the door open. Once they’re inside, she walks through the front hallway into the kitchen as she recalls the last time she was here. Remembering him kneeling down in front of her as he slid her panties down her legs, his hands shaky. She smiles to herself remembering how eager yet nervous he was. Being with an older woman such as herself made him anxious almost, but she found it endearing. Her thoughts are soon interrupted as she feels him come up from behind, his hot breath on her neck. He moves the hair to one side of her neck as she leans back into him, her ass pressing against his crotch causing him to groan into her skin. “I’ve missed the taste of you, baby,” kissing down her neck, “you’re so fucking sweet.” His words make her weak in the knees. She must have taught him a thing or two because he wasn’t nearly this vocal before. He pulls her tighter against him, placing his hands on her hips.

“How wet are you, darling?” he playfully ghosts his nose down the shell of her ear. His hands rest on her hips as his fingers slide up the curvature of her side. He feels her back arching as she’s desperately trying to relieve the ache in between her thighs. Fuck—her body will be the thing to kill him. Her sinful body that he worships mercilessly. He can’t keep his hands off her. The memories flood his head as he’s mouthing kisses on her jaw. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her writhing on his cock. Remembering every detail as she came undone above him. Her brows wrinkling, her eyes fluttering, her body shaking. A strangled moan leaves her lips as she snaps her eyes shut.  The sweetest sound he’s ever heard. He kisses the back of her neck as he slips his leg between her thighs, slipping her cardigan off her shoulders and onto the dark, wooden floor. “Can you still feel me inside you?” She turns her head trying to catch his gaze as she manages to nod. Slowly, he brings his hand between her legs to sneak up the apex of her thigh, kneading the soft between them, just below where she needs him the most. She throws her head back as she keens. “Please, Shawn.” He’s smirking now because he knows he’s got her. She actually thought she could forget him that easily?

Without hesitating, he guides her towards the kitchen table. Once he has her in front of it, he grabs her waist, and bends her over it in a swift movement. She makes contact with the cool surface, face pressing against the glass as he stands behind her staring in awe at her body, keeping one hand on the small of her back, making sure she was staying down. After a second or two, her eyes widen at the feeling his fingers on the back of her thighs, and soon her dress is heaved up over her ass. She felt goosebumps gather on her arms, but she has no time to think about that seeing his hand come down on the globe of her ass moments later.

“Fuck!” she groans, his actions so unexpected causing her to let out a choked moan. He kneads the area he hit with his long fingers, and she heard her own breathing becoming louder and more uneven than before.

“What was that, baby?” he coos, obviously taking the opportunity to watch her enjoy herself. She rolls her eyes, and moments later she feels his hands in her hair, grabbing it and wrapping it around his fingers for a grip to pull slightly. She feels his clothed cock aching against her ass, and instantly her core is pulsating. He wants nothing more than to be inside of her, he needs to be inside of her. “Christ, you like that, don’t you doll?” He teases, and surprises her by sliding her panties down her toned legs. Her lips part as she gasps, looking back at him. But he just smirks at her. Pleased with himself. He couldn’t stop watching her, his cock twitching as he sees her slowly lose her control. “You look so good with your bare ass against me” he breathes dragging his hands down her delicate body, and after what feels like a lifetime later, he presses one finger against her slit, sliding it all the way from her entrance to her clit. Her body quakes by his warm touch, and she feels his cock pressing harder into her ass as he continues spreading the wetness around her soaked cunt.

“Oh god,” she groans almost inaudible, closing her eyes as he circles his finger around her clit, applying just enough pressure to make her whimper. Then his touch disappears, and she lets out a strangled sound causing him to allow a laugh to tumble from his lips. “What’s wrong, doll? Miss the feelings of my fingers fucking your pussy? Christ, I have been waiting to see you underneath me like this again.”

He runs his hand down her back, carefully digging his nails into her skin until he reaches her ass. His hand comes right back down her ass, a slap probably creating a soft, red handprint. She releases a high pitched moan, soft pain turning into pleasure in her body as he admires her below him.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me? Fuck—gonna let me show you why you need me?” He growls into her ear, giving her ass one more slap before kneading it softly. She snaps her eyes open while licking her lips. “Mhm,” she nods, trying to pushing her ass up further against him. He slaps it. “Use that witty mouth of yours,” he hisses, placing a burning kiss on her cheek.

“Yes baby yeah, please,” she coaxes, fluttering her eyelashes. He tilts his head back, admiring her state through hooded eyes. He wish he could capture this moment in a photo and save it forever. Her eyes wanting, chest heaving. It was almost shameful.

He then presses two fingers against her clit, and begins rubbing in circles. The feeling of him working wonders with his fingers makes her cry out in pleasure, being unprepared for his overwhelming response. She keens as he curls his finger inside her, careful grazing her g-spot just perfectly to draw out her sweet sounds. She’s burning with desire as she reaches back to grab his arm for support. A murmured breath of his name leaves her soft lips as she comes for him. She’s dripping down his fingers as his pace slows down. He brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. God, she’s done for as she watches him taste her. He can’t resist, she’s becoming one of his favorite flavors. 

Her rapid breathing slowly calms as he leaves open mouth kisses the small of her back leaving soft bites. Captivated by her soft skin. 

He runs his hands up her stomach and cups her breast as he inches his mouth closer to her skin, sucking on her earlobe. Her legs go numb at his movements. She’s dripping and all she needs is for him to be inside her, filling her. She turns her head to make eye contact with him, and he knows she’s fucked. He can see it in her face, and he can smell it. “What is it darling? Not sure what to do? We could always stop? But that’s not what you want is it, doll? No. You miss me. The feeling of me inside you.”

She whimpers a soft moan of his name which he loves to hear. As he places one last kiss on her neck, he taps the side of her thigh signaling her to turn around, and she complies. He grabs her legs and tangles them around him. He grabs the hem of her dress, but she stops him causing him to furrow his eyebrows. She wants to do it for him, watch his reaction as she becomes naked right here before him. She slowly pulls the piece of fabric off her body and looks up at him as his eyes rake down her. He sucks in a breath. Her body mesmerized him. He pulls his shirt over his head and grabs onto the back of her thighs as he lifts her up to carry her down the hall to his room.

“Gonna make you remember, baby. Remember how I make you come so fuckin’ good for me,” he breathes into her hair as she kisses his collarbone, sucking dark bruises into his skin as he makes his way to the bedroom.

To be continued……

Would you still be there in the mornin’?

Cute sentences prompt: “You’re the perfect height for me to rest my chin on your head”


He lets the ice cold water run over his razor blade before continuing to shave. Curls wet from taking a shower, he bends down a little, squinting at the mirror.

The razor blade glides over his right cheek, down to his chin and he looks in the mirror.

“Shawn? Have you seen my shirt?” she yells from her bedroom.

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She’s a sweetheart! She said, “Let’s do it!” And I’m like, “I’m ready!” First of all, I always wanted to see her show. I was in Miami, and she opened the door, and I said, “Of course, let’s have fun.” She goes, “Rick, I’ve always wanted to sing ‘Livin’ La Vida Loca.’ Can we do it?” I’m like, “Okay, we’ll do whatever you want.” And she looked so beautiful and sexy. She was so cool. It was a very special night. I was flattered to be part of the team.
—  Ricky Martin on performing with Taylor Swift on her 1989 tour stop in Miami and what’s it like being in the squad (People.com, November 2015)
Essays in Existentialism: Heart III

Previously on Heart

Any chance we will get to see Lexa freaking out about the first time they have sex in ‘Heart’? I loved her dialogue in that so much and wanted to hear what she had to say about it

Day 72

“Fit as a fiddle,” Lexa boasted as she climbed onto the table. “Healthy as a horse.”

“Let the doctor talk,” Clarke chided.

“Tell her, Dr. G,” she continued, all bravado and pride and life twisting around in her muscles and veins.

“Let me get started,” the doctor rolled her eyes.

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