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lostinlovingrevery · 2 months ago

Text

Fever

Patch! Logan X F! Reader

He wants you to be his

A/N: the way this just kept going lol....Also consider this a hint/peek at what the Patch! series will look like! (w/ some things changed)

Warnings: 5K WC LOL, SMUT! reader is a singer and wears a sexy dress, creepy pervert boss- unwanted touch!, drinking, patch being a flirt, secret established relationship, possessive! logan, patch defending his girl so violence, unprotected piv, f! and m! oral recieving, doggy I guess?, choke hold, marking, a little bit rough sex but not that much, you get fucked silly, yay!

Getting through the night was always a little hard.

As someone who hates being the center of attention, you’re not sure why you choose to be an entertainer of all things.

Standing on a stage, blinded by shining lights, made deaf by the orchestra that surrounds you. Wearing a dress that shows a tad too much cleavage, snapping your fingers to the beat while swinging your hips side to side and showing the world what your momma gave you.

Your voice echoes back in your ears as you sing and it doesn’t even sound like you.

Sun lights up the daytime

Moon lights up the night

I light up when you call my name

And you know I'm gonna treat you right

You give me fever

Yet despite the quiet anxiety you feel onstage, where hundreds of onlookers watch you- faces of envy, jealousy, lust- you still felt yourself lost in the lyrics of your song. It captivates you, a song falling between love and lust. A song you find yourself in every day lately.

You couldn’t make out the sea of faces that stared up at you- the stage lights left white spots in your version, blurring the scene before you like a Claude Monet painting with the vast colors that decorated the crowd.

Even with such an audience in the room, you could feel the stare of one man. Every set you play- even when you don’t see him, you can feel him.

You finished your set, the last song of the night. Thank god.

The audience claps, a few whistles and whoops. You thanked them for a wonderful night, and handed the microphone off to the announcer who gave you a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, bidding you compliments and a good night to the audience and you quickly made your exit.

The first place you went to is the bar.

Needing a drink to take the edge off, and decompress before you head upstairs to your room. The bartender, a dear friend of yours- already knew you were on your way and had prepared your favorite.

She had set it on the counter the moment you sat on your stool.

“Thank you-” You smile, your voice sounding a little hoarse as you clear it. You took the glass, taking a generous sip that burned your throat and did nothing to quench your actual thirst- but at least you could relax a bit.

“Beautiful tonight as always,” She compliments. “ Y’know…” She glanced around, checking to see if anyone was watching, the bar- set off to the side of the large showroom sat mostly empty. Most patrons cleared out after the last song- drunk and horny and looking to either crash in their rooms or find an escort to keep them company for the night. “I noticed you’ve been singing a lot of love songs lately…”

You rolled your eyes, “Sweetheart, my whole style is based on crooners. You show me a song from them that isn’t about love.”

“There’s a few I’ve heard you sing. This is different though you’re like…So into it.” She teases, tapping you on the hand that held your drink. She then mimics you singing, being extra dramatic in her expression and mimicking the lyrics. You begin to laugh.

“I don’t do that!” You playfully shoved her, but you felt heat blooming in your cheeks. You went to sip your drink while your friend continued teasing you, and you turned your back away from her- pretending as if you didn’t know her.

You were smiling to yourself, looking down at your drink when you noticed a pair of dress shoes. You brought the glass to your lips, as your eyes trailed up the white suit that stood before you, taking in the broad shoulders before reaching the handsome face.

An infamous man known as Patch, at least around here. Nicknamed by what you presume from the eyepatch that covers over his left eye. A repeat customer to the casino you perform for, a gambler with a very long streak of luck, and a penchant for getting into fights. You’ve heard he was banned from multiple casinos around Madripoor- due to his ability to win just about any and every game of chance, rumors say that he earned hundreds and thousands of earnings from his wins. Other rumors say it’s due to his other talent at throwing punches.

No one knows his story, but then again- that was true for everyone in Madripoor.

He was famous for appearing as a gentleman, but underneath the classy suit, he was a scoundrel.

You slowly lowered the glass from your lips, struck by his looks. Dark brown locks slicked back, and neatly trimmed mutton chops, giving him a more classy appearance. One of the guards of the casino once told you that he saw him first as a cage fighter, back when Patch first came to the city- and looked more like an wild, untamed animal, nothing like he does now.

Your casino hasn’t thrown him out yet. This isn’t the first- nor will it be the last time he has approached you. All charm and smiles that you couldn’t help feel weak in the knees from.

“Looked wonderful up there tonight, darling.” His voice was deep and low, the sound shooting up your spine. He stepped closer, a hand reaching out to rest on your hip. “- As always, of course.” His smile grew.

His demeanor always held a certain intimidation, like he was posing a challenge to everyone in the room. He stood over you, looking down at you like you were prey, but you could see a glimmer in his eye- something familiar.

A warm feeling pooled in your tummy at the way his hand softly caressed your hip. For a moment, you leaned in, getting yourself lost in the green of his eye. Reason struck you, and you stepped back, removing his hand from your hip and curling yours around his hand, feeling the warmth from him.

“Thank you.” You tilted your head, flashing your practiced smile, you give to anyone who comes to compliment you on the entertainment you provide. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I certainly did.” He hums, his smile fading into something more sincere, looking you up and down, and your heart flutters when he looks back at you again. He leaned down, bowing as he brought the back of your hand to his lips, pressing them gently to the skin and looking up at you- a lingering pause, before standing up. A cocky smirk returned on his face, “If you’re looking for company tonight, you know where to find me. Sweetheart.”

He let go of your hand, bringing it over to tip your chin up, his eye grazed over your neck. He gave you a wink, before walking away.

You didn’t even realize you had been holding your breath the entire interaction. You watched him walk to the other end of the bar. Finally letting it out and tearing your eyes away to face the counter.

Your friend was looking at you knowingly, raising a brow.

“Shush.”

“I didn’t say anything!” She exclaims, holding her hands up defensively. “I saw how you were looking at him, though….”

“He was just complimenting me. I get multiple people who come up and do that every night.” You argue.

“Whatever.” She says, “Just be careful. You know that guy has a reputation.”

You shook your head, looking away to laugh her off. “There’s nothing to be careful about because there’s nothing happening.”

“Woah hold on-” Her hand reached out, stopping you from looking at her again. “You got a major hickey.”

“What?” You blinked in surprise. She laughs,

“So much for nothing happening.” She smirks, removing her hand. You brought your own hand to touch where the so-called hickey was, a small panic hitting you. You were so sure you covered everything with makeup this morning! How could you miss it?

You glanced over to where Patch was sitting on the other end of the bar. He was watching you with a cocky expression, and toasted the glass of whiskey the other bartender had served him towards you, before taking a long swig- not breaking away his stare.

You looked away, embarrassment creeping up your spine. You knew you shouldn’t be embarrassed- but the way Patch was staring at you, it made your thoughts run wild- and your thighs press together.

You went to finish your drink off, so you could head back to your room upstairs- when a familiar voice sent dread through you, nausea bubbling in your stomach.

You forced a smile, and turned around to give a semi-flirty look to your boss- the head of the casino.

Michael Karas, an older, filthy rich gentleman who hits on you every chance he’s got, and does whatever he can to parade you around under his arm and by his side. He was a known grade A pervert- all the girls who work under him do anything to minimize contact with him. He typically gets bored with one, moves on to another- but unfortunately for you, he has clocked in on you since you first came a year ago and hasn’t let go since.

The man harasses you every night. You’ve been forced to get dinner with him, drinks, go to premiers and more. You gag at the gossip magazines in stores that imply you’re in a relationship with him. He’s repulsive, disrespectful, and just plain weird.

However, he is your boss, and one of the most powerful people in Madripoor. You tried to completely turn him down once, and was told that you would “disappear” if you ever refused him again. So you do whatever you can to remain at a professional, platonic level with him. Maintaining excuse after excuse as to why you couldn’t be with him. You acted like it was a fun little game- for him. Felt like survival for you.

So far it has worked- but lately Micheal has been coming on to you more. Being touchy and more demanding.

You’re not sure how much longer you can push him away.

“Gorgeous!” He smiles as he walks to the bar counter where you sat, his arms open for you as he approaches. Surrounded by multiple men in security suits. You stood up to give him a polite hug, but he pulled you tighter to him, and gave you a wet kiss on the cheek.

You attempted to hide the look of disgust on your face. Pulling away, you grabbed your drink and held it between you both, at least something to keep him a few inches away from your personal space. You brought your hand up to where the supposed hickey was located- hoping that Michael doesn’t notice that or your strange body language.

“Your voice is as angelic as ever my dear.” He purrs and you let out a small laugh.

“Thank you Micheal.” You crossed your arms, and his arm slinked around your waist pulling you close.

“Say, why don’t you come finish your drink with me? Hm?” His hand came up to boop your nose, which made you have to struggle to hide your cringe from him.

“Uh…I…” You shook your head, struggling to find an excuse. “I’m really tired tonight, Micheal.”

“Oh dear- You’re tired every night.” He moves to stand in front of you. “It’s not like it’s work to be with me. I’ll take care of you. Haven’t I already?”

He flashes you a smile and you want to puke.

“I just don’t feel good.”

He frowns, tipping his chin up to look down at you. Letting go he steps back, his hands up in surrender, with a dry tone. “Hm, alright. God forbid I would want to catch something.”

A smile of relief came across you and you nodded. “Exactly, I know you work so hard honey- That’s why it’s not a good time.” You squeezed his arm reassuringly.

“Yeah, right.” He looks at you, tongue in cheek. You leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek, turning to walk away- when his hand came down on your ass making you yelp. “Get some rest sweetcheeks because tomorrow night- You ain’t getting out of dinner with me.”

You would have turned around and given him a piece of your mind, to lecture him- it didn’t matter who he was; he didn’t have a right to do that.

However, someone else beat you to it

“Hey bub.”

Patch was across the bar in a flash. Michael could barely react before he was met with Patch fist to his face, knocking him clean to the ground.

One of the guards grabbed you and pulled you away causing you to stumble, while the others went after Patch, tackling him, landing punches across his face and stomach- only he didn’t seem affected. The scene went into chaos, as you watched your boss attempt to pick himself up from the ground, holding his jaw. Patch broke loose from three guards who were attempting to pin him to the counter and landed yet another punch to your boss, knocking him out as he fell to the ground.

You don’t condone violence, however, this was extremely satisfying to witness.

Before you could do or say anything, the same guard dragged you away from the bar, out into the showroom, where he escorted you to the halls, where he left you to rejoin his brethren in an attempt to take down the one-eyed gentleman in the white suit.

You stood there awkwardly, a little unsure of what to do. You heard sounds of clashing, disruption coming from the room- while party-goers walk past you with strange looks on their face, attempting to peer in. You give them an awkward smile, before turning to find another bar in the casino.

You really needed another drink.

After successfully getting one, you finally went back to your room. You dragged your feet, mind wandering back to Patch, and wondering if he got out okay.

You reached the door to the penthouse you live in, amazing view, nice furniture. It’s cozy- maybe not exactly your style, but since you don’t have to pay rent, you couldn’t complain. Inserting your key card into the door, and walking into the darkness of your place.

Except the light coming off a lamp in the corner of the living room drew your attention.

There sat Patch on one of the chairs that adorned your living room. Leaning back with his legs spread and a glass of whiskey in hand. He smirked at your surprised expression.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Logan!” You hissed quietly under your breath, closing the door behind you and making sure it’s locked. He tilted his head, a false expression of confusion on his face.

“What?”

“You can’t just come in here like that- what if I was with somebody?” You walked towards him in the living room with your hands on your hips.

“I would’ve taken care of it.” He says, turning to sip his whiskey before carefully setting it on the table next to him, atop a coaster.

“Like you took care of Michael?”

He glanced up at you and smirked. Standing up, he walked over to you. You sighed, your hands reaching for the lapel of his coat. “You okay?” You ask, worry crosses your expression.

“Love when you worry about me.” He grins. “You know there ain’t no reason to.”

“Maybe…” You look down, frowning at the speckles of blood on his coat. He noticed what you were looking at, and shed it off, tossing it to the side and leaving him in slacks, a button-up dress shirt, and suspenders. “That’s better.” You hummed, your fingers looping under the suspenders and playfully snapping them against his chest.

“Ow.” He mocks, and smiled down at you. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, your noses bumping against each other, as he held his lips inches away from yours.

“Not so tough, are you?” You whispered.

“Against you? Definitely not.” He mumbles, his lips brushing over yours. “You okay?”

“M’fine.” You nodded. He pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, then the tip of your nose. You shut your eyes, savoring the feeling of his lips over your skin. His hands gripped your hips and pulled you against him. “You’re going to get us caught flying off the handle like that-”

“Good.” He mumbles, continuing to shower your face, down to your neck, with kisses, making sure his lips touch every inch of your skin. “Tired of pretending like you ain’t mine.”

You heard a change of his tone, the growl of his voice when he said “mine” and it sent goosebumps down your arms.

You’re not sure how this thing started between you and Logan- or “Patch”. He showed up, and swept you off your feet. Due to your “relationship” with your boss, or lack thereof, you and Logan have snuck around. It was fooling around initially- or so you thought. The feelings that have grown for the man known as Patch suddenly appeared just as quickly as he had.

Logan hated Micheal for more reasons than one- but for your own safety he dealt with it. He could’ve killed him, the bastard deserves it more than most people lives Logan had ended. However, with his own mission- it would cause some serious problems. Now, however…

It was fun initially, pretending not to know each other during the day, but by night…

However, Logan’s grown tired of that game. Tired of watching you from the distance- wishing he could hold you, have you sit in his lap during his sessions of gambling, and cuss out any fucker think he’s worth his salt to even look at you.

“The bastards, lucky I didn’t chop his head off the moment he touched you.” He murmurs as he presses a kiss to your jaw. You tipped your head back, giving him purchase to your neck, your lips parting as you leaned into his kisses. “I’m gonna kill him, then he can’t ever fucking touch ya again-”

“Logan-” You stopped him, and he looked at you with a quirked brow. “Not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.” He looked down at you. The expression in his eye sent chills down your back, and excitement. “I would have killed him tonight if it weren’t for his little team of babysitters.”

“Lo.” You repeat his name, “He’s an asshole, I agree but killing him? You’re going to get yourself killed instead.”

Sure, would Michael being gone be a weight off your - and likely hundreds of other shoulders? Yes. Aside from not wanting to condone murder… He is a well-known figure in this city. If Logan did anything and it was traced back to him… Healing factor or no, you couldn’t bear the idea of him getting hurt.

“Can’t die, baby. You know that.” His hands climbed up to cup your face gently. “I’m getting sick of not being able to show you off. Everyone needs to know you’re mine.”

You smiled, turning to kiss the palm of his hand. “I know, isn’t that enough?”

His expression softened, and he leaned forward to capture you in a real kiss. His hands began to explore your body. Your lips moved over each other, possessive and passionate. He pushed you back, pushing you against the wall.

“You act like you don’t condone what I do, but you forget I can hear your heartbeat baby.” He mutters between passionate smooches. “And I can tell when you start feeling all needy. Turned you on when you watched me make him pay for touching you, didn’t it?”

“Maybe…” You muttered under your breath. He chuckled, nipping your bottom lip, before turning his attention to your neck. Slowly he lowered himself down to his knees, pressing a trail of kisses down your center, kissing your belly through your dress as he looked up at you. One of his hands pressed to your lower back, while the other slipped past the slit of your dress, making contact with your skin.

He smirked at the shiver that ran through you, as he brushed his hand over your thigh, before cupping for your ass, his fingers going underneath the hem of your panties. He continued pressing kisses to you through your dress while feeling you up.

“You’re so damn beautiful.” He murmurs against the fabric of your dress. “Can you blame me for wanting to show you off?”

“Mm.” You giggle. “I can’t risk you getting hurt Lo. I know you can’t die, but Micheal…He knows people. He gets any idea and he’ll figure out how to get you killed.”

“Not if I get him first.” He suggests again. “He’s become a fucking annoyance with my own problems anyway.”

Logan hasn’t told you exactly why he was here in Madripoor, where he came from, what he was even doing. Claims he’ll tell you one day, when it’s safe for you to know. You’re not sure if he’s telling the truth, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when he worships you the way he does.

His hand under your dress began tugging your panties down to your ankles. He helped you step out of them while pocketing them. He then helped you take off your heels before encouraging you to put one leg over his shoulder.

Pressing a kiss to the top of your foot, then your ankle, he worked his way up until he was nipping the skin of your inner thigh. He pressed his lips into the crease of where your thigh met your core, licking the skin there, before turning his head to press a teasing kiss to your clit. You buried your hand into his hair, closing your eyes and tipping your head back against the wall, melting the moment his tongue made contact with your cunt.

He lapped at you like a man dying of thirst, staring up at you to watch your every reaction. His hands supported you on your shaky legs as he buried himself in your folds. Licking every inch of you, before dipping his tongue into your hole. Quiet whimpers escaped you as you started to grind your hips over him.

“Lo…” You gasped, “Don’t stop-”

“Wouldn’t dream of ever doing that princess-” He mumbles, eyes growing heavy as he became drunk off your essence.

Your fingers dug into his scalp painfully, and you heard him moan. His lips wrapped around your swollen clit and began sucking, his tongue swirling nonsensical shapes against the bud. He brought a hand to your core, a finger teasing your entrance before he buried it inside you. Your hips thrust forward, grinding over him as he brings you to your peak, lapping up every ounce of your ecstasy as you cry out his name, shaking before him.

He stood up, picking you up with his hands on your ass, lips crashing onto yours before you could even catch your breath.. You could taste yourself on his tongue and his lips.

“See how good you taste, princess?” He mumbles against you. You wrapped your legs around his hips, and he carried you back to your bedroom.

The neon lights of buildings that towered over the casino hotel shone through your window. Shades of red highlighted Logan's face, as your hands caressed him.

He dropped you onto the bed, before flipping you onto your belly- leaning over you and pressing open-mouth kisses against your neck and shoulders, before his teeth found the zipper of your dress, and tugged it downwards. He pulled the fabric apart, continuing to kiss your back while he began to undress himself. Pulling off the suspenders, he worked the buttons of his shirt and tossed it aside.

You were flipped back onto your back as he turned his attention back to undressing you. He lifted the hem of your dress up, as you helped him pull it off and get dropped to the side of the bed.

He stood up, and you sat up with him, eagerly undoing his belt and tugging his pants down until they fell to his ankles, along with his boxers.

Your mouth watered at the sight of his erect cock. You reached your hand out to press against his belly, admiring the muscles that flexed from his touch. Tracing downwards until you grabbed the base of his cock. You looked up at him for permission.

He smirked. “Go ahead, sweetheart, get a little taste.”

You smiled at his words, learning forward to dip your tongue into the slit of his tip. You swirled your tongue around his tip, then took it between your lips.

You heard a harsh breath escape him as he tilted his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, his hand going into your hair.

“Pretty girl…” He mutters. “I was thinking about this when I watched you sing tonight. Thinking about how those pretty lips making those pretty sounds looked on my cock.”

A moan escaped you, and he pulled out. His hands gently pushed you back down onto the bed, and flipped you once again onto your belly, his arm wrapped around your waist to push you further up on the bed as he clambered after you, the mattress creaking under his weight.

He pushed your face into the plush duvet, angling your hips up. His cock rested against your cunt and you pushed back onto him, wiggling your hips.

A chuckle escaped him, his hand pressed firmly into your back. “I know you want it baby, I got you.” he coos.

He took his shaft in hand, pushing himself through your folds. He coated himself with your arousal, teasing your hole by pushing his tip in and out of you, until you were whining, full of complaints that made him smirk.

“Logan!” You whimpered, arching your back and spreading your thighs further apart. Your hands gripped the sheets of your bed.

“That’s what I like to see, beautiful.” He hums as he finally pushes himself inside you. “Pretty pussy’s been begging for me all night hasn’t she?”

He was slow, burying every inch into your pussy as if he was making sure you’d memorized every detail of his cock molding you inside. A deep moan escaped you.

“There we go…” He purrs, “Big stretch, yeah?”

You couldn’t even answer. Becoming mindless at the feeling of his cock thrusting into you. Your fingers curled into the sheets as you began mindlessly rocking your hips back onto him.

He settled one hand on your hip, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin, and the other hand on his hip. He slowly pulled out, and back in- creating a steady pace as he watched his cock push into you. He listened to your breathy whimpers, smirking at the way your pussy clenched around him every time he buries himself to the hilt.

He leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back as his hips became flushed against your ass. A hand snaked underneath you, first stopping to press circles into your nipple, before climbing up to wrap around your neck. He gently squeezed you, delivering a hard thrust just to listen to you cry out.

“Love your voice darling, and your little songs- but fuck do I love hearing those sounds more.”

You tipped your head back, exposing your neck to him. He leaned down, sucking at your skin.

“Care- Careful-” You breathed, becoming semi-aware again. “You already left one mark.”

“I know.” You could hear the arrogance in his voice. “I told you, sweetheart-”

His steady thrusts began to go faster, his legs kicked yours farther apart. His free hand pushed down on your waist, keeping your back arched against him.

“I’m done hiding the fact that you’re mine.” He growls. “Don’t give a shit what that snot-nosed rich boy gotta say about it. So don’t bother being quiet, everyone is going to know tomorrow who you belong to.”

You cried out as his gentle thrusts became brutal, his grip on you becoming tighter as he grunted. The bed shook with his movements. He turned his head, pressing his lips against your cheek- a gentle reminder of his love for you.

There was a feeling stirring in the pit of your belly, but before you could focus. His arms came around you, pulling you up onto your knees. One arm wrapped around your waist- your arms pinned at your side, while his other arm wrapped around your neck in a headlock. He continued thrusting up into you, hitting the spot that made you a ragdoll against him.

“C’mon, darling- The neighbors can’t hear you.” He says through gritted teeth. You were rendered speechless- until his hand reached and found your clit and began rubbing firm circles that made your body spasm against him.

“Oh-!” You cried out. You reached up to bury your nails into his arm that held you in a headlock. “Lo- Patch!” You nearly screamed Logan's name, only to remember that if he wants people to know you belong to him; you have to use his alias.

You heard him snort through heavy pants. “Good girl-” He grunts.

“Patch- Please!” You whimpered,

“Cum for me princess-” He purrs.

Obeying his words, you came for the second time while he fucked you through it. Your body shook against him, and he let you out of the headlock. You fell back onto the mattress, your body limp and shaking with aftershocks of your orgasm.

His hands grabbed your hips- and he continued fucking into you and not slowing down. You could tell by his breathy pants and the way his thrusts turned sloppy, that he was close- and you were already approaching your third orgasm of the night. Your limbs too weak at this point to do anything, so your laid there as he had his way with you- fucking into you at an incredibly messy pace- your mouth hung open and you nearly started to drool- becoming dumb from his cock.

He leaned forward, his head resting on your shoulder and he rutted into you, burying himself completely before a harsh grunt of your name escaped him- and you felt the warm feeling of his cum filling you up inside. A loud snikt! was heard, and you opened your eyes to see his fist buried into your mattress. Your sheets were going to need to be replaced now- not that you really minded.

Breathy moans filled your ear, sending you off once more into your own pleasure while he continues small ruts into you, making sure you’re filled to the brim with him.

Once finished, he gently pulled out of you, collapsing at your side with a deep groan.

“Fuck.” He hissed. His hand lazily went to your back, softly stroking it with his knuckles. “You good, baby?”

“Mm.” You could barely mutter, turning your head to face him with sleepy eyes and a smile. You managed a tired nod.

“That’s my girl.”

He took a deep breath and sat up. “Let's get you cleaned up.”

“No.” You muttered, lazily reaching out to stop him. “Leave it.”

A devious grin grew on his face, He leaned back with one arm crossed behind his head. Opening the other for you to curl into his side. ”Dirty girl.” he hums under his breath, before turning to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Logan?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“If…I’m yours, that means you’re mine too, right?”

Butterflies stirred in his stomach, he looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m all yours.”

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wonlovie · 2 years ago

Text

— RACING, BEATING.

You didn’t mean to show up to one of the most important meetings of your year completely hungover. No, in reality you would have preferred being sober when you met the man your father was marrying you off to. But how could you resist those dark eyes and plump lips that tempted you on your final night of freedom?

— starring. illegal-racer!heeseung x model!reader

— tags. arranged marriage!au but they kind of not really hate each other for like one scene, reader is touch starved af, smut [mild public sex (car, elevator), vaginal fingering, oral (m. receiving), face-fucking, establishment of a safeword but it's never used, degrading (use of whore and stupid bitch) [MINORS DNI]]

— word count. 11.9k

— notes. there was a whole other part to this but i kept rewriting it until i could not anymore 💀 if i do finally get it written the way i want to, i might release it as a part two to this 👀👀 lmk if u'd be interested!!

You were used to playing pretend. As the daughter of an influential CEO, you were born in the spotlight, never knowing what living without a camera pointed at you was like. By seven years old, you were a master at faking a smile. A gentle smile, never too broad because people would call you an overachiever but never too little, or you’d be caught up in unhappy scandals.

By fifteen years old, your father had announced your title as the face of his company and your ‘normal’ life as you knew it was gone forever. You no longer had time for actual studies nor for the fruitless relationships you had gathered. Instead, you spent your hours practicing your runway walk and your model face. Almost every wall in your lofty house was lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors, never allowing you for a second to forget how you looked to others.

Your father was never one to miss out on making money, priding himself on his cynical and opportunistic ways of life. If something could be monetized, he was always the first one to come up with a foolproof plan to capitalize on it. Which is why you weren’t surprised when he announced to you that you were to be married off to the heir of a big company whose name you saw almost everywhere.

Years spent watching your peers grow up normally, studying hard and partying harder, left behind a bitter jealousy that you could never voice. For once, you wanted to feel normal. For once, you wanted to feel like your father’s daughter and not his employee. For once, you wanted to forget the world and experience true freedom.

That was how you found yourself sitting on an uncomfortable barstool, leaning your elbows on the sticky countertop with a glass of some mystery drink hanging from your fingertips. The dress you wore stuck to your skin, showing off more of your body than you were ever allowed to in public. There was a dull burn in your calves from the stilettos you wore, but you paid no mind to them as you sipped gingerly on the liquor.

Tomorrow, you would be meeting the man your father was giving you away to. You knew nothing about him other than the fact that he was one of your father’s business partner’s son. You silently tipped up your drink, a silent toast to your last night of freedom. Knocking your head back, you winced at the unfamiliar burn as you emptied the glass.

When you ungracefully dropped the empty glass onto the counter, red lips stained the rim. “Another, miss?” you vaguely heard the bartender ask. You nodded without thinking, eyes staring forward without focus. Your cheeks felt warm from the few drinks you’d had since you sat down. As the bartender poured you another drink, you allowed your gaze to drift, scanning the room in curiosity.

Red lights lit up the space, random spotlights moving about from the ceiling. The music played loud enough to leave a slight ringing in your ear, your bones vibrating to the beat. Hundreds of people flooded the floor, you noted. Some pairs danced against each other provocatively, intriguing you as you eyed a girl making out with a taller man over her shoulder. Some people danced alone, mouthing the words to a song you didn’t recognize.

As you looked around, your eyes met a stranger’s from across the bar. He sat alone, unlike the many other patrons of the club, a half-emptied pint in front of him. From where you were, you could make out the details of his attire—a dark blazer that fit snugly over the expanse of his shoulders. He wore a silk button-up, rudely unbuttoned low, allowing you to see the curve of his collarbones down to the lines of his chest.

When your eyes flit up to glance at his face, he was already staring at you. His expression, which you can only describe as alluring, prompted you to suck your bottom lip under your teeth, gently biting at the skin. Dark eyes watched you from across the room, looking you up and down slowly before settling on your face. You watched carefully as a tongue flicked out to lick his pink lips before the corners pulled up into a smirk. He rose a brow at you, hair pushed back enough to let you see his silent beckon.

You mirrored his expression, taking a sip of your drink as you stared at him through the glass. The man held a hand up, showing off silver rings wrapped around his slender fingers that made you want to sin. Clearing your throat, you looked away and down at your drink, amber liquid sloshing around in the glass. Before you could even take another swig, a shot glass slid in front of you, its contents almost spilling out.

Looking up in confusion, you called over the bartender, who’d already turned his back to you. “Excuse me? I didn’t order a shot,” you yelled over the blaring music. The bartender glanced at you for a second before nodding his head in the direction of the man who, when you looked, was already gone. The bartender continued, already pouring a drink for another.

Knitting your brows together, you brought the shot glass up to your nose, scrunching it when the strong smell of vodka invaded your senses. A cough tickled your throat as you held the offending shot glass away. Your eyes danced over the many heads in the room, but the mystery man was nowhere in sight. Heaving a sigh, you tipped your head back, swallowing the bitter liquid as quickly as you could. Wincing slightly, you let out a breath as you placed the glass next to the other one.

“Atta’ girl,” a smooth voice crooned in your ear, tickling your skin and leaving behind goosebumps. A hand reached around, grazing the tops of your thighs as its owner spun your barstool around. Face to face with the man of the night, your breath hitched as you found yourself inches away from him. You wondered if he could hear your racing heartbeat over the pounding music.

Up close, you could see his lip ring, plump pink lips pushing against the silver as he peered down at you. His hand moved from the barstool to your waist, his warmth spreading over your skin like wildfire. His other hand leaned on the counter behind you, surrounding you in his essence. His attention was overwhelming as you caught his eyes glimpsing down at your lips before dropping to the curve of your breasts under your dress.

Your hands hovered over your lap, clenching and unclenching as you tried to figure out what to do with them. Keeping eye contact with you, the man leaned forward until he was a hair away, closer than any other man had been. “I’ve never seen you here before,” he spoke lowly, your ears just barely grabbing onto his words. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing stuck at the bar, hm?”

You bit your lip, his eyes quickly darting down. “Just… enjoying the night,” you mumbled, resisting the urge to lean forward. The air in your lungs felt trapped as your mind filled with incoherent thoughts.

The man tilted his head at you, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he bore his gaze into you. The hand on your waist pulled you forward until you were almost pressed against him, his thumb rubbing up and down over the fabric of your dress. “Didn’t seem like you were enjoying it,” he said, his breath fanning over your neck as he leaned to whisper in your ear. “I know how you can really start enjoying your night, sweetheart.”

When his lips brushed against your jugular, you had to stop yourself from throwing your head back, the simple touch sending you haywire. “Yeah?” your voice came out breathy, your hands finally settling to rest on his chest. Bent over you like this, his shirt rode lower than ever, letting you see his chiselled torso. You brushed a thumb over his skin, burning to the touch as he leaned back to look you in the eye. “How so?”

He smirked, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. He pulled you closer by the chin, using his thumb to pull at your bottom lip gently. Your heart raced as he came closer, his nose nudging your own as your eyes subconsciously started to close. “Just let me take care of you,” he rasped, his lips brushing against yours. The cool metal of his lip ring sent a shiver down your spine, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him as his grin seemingly grew. “Let’s get outta here, yeah?”

It didn’t take much convincing for you to follow the man out of the crowded club, guided by a hand on the wrist. With as many drinks as you had in you, it might’ve been worrying with the ease with which he was able to take you by the hand. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care as excitement bubbled in your lower abdomen.

Even his back was attractive, all broad shoulders and straight lines. A few earrings hooped around his ears, glinting under the strobe lights. When he pulled you outside, the cool night air was starkly different from the hot temperature inside. Goosebumps rose on your bare arms, causing the man to glance back at you with a worried look. Not another word was said as he brought you to a car you’d never seen anyone actually drive around town.

It was a bold red colour, something that reminded you of a crimson fire. You blinked when he opened the passenger side door for you as it swung upwards. The car was low, and you felt a bit awkward climbing in with your stilettos, but the man waited patiently until you were inside before closing the door. You watched as he walked around the car to the driver’s side, the head-up display blinking on the windshield when he started the ignition.

“Wow,” you mumbled dumbly, easily getting comfortable on the leather seat. He spared you an amused look, one eyebrow raised, paired with a smug smile. Leaning over, your breath hitched as he pulled the seatbelt over you, the click of its buckle cutting through the silence. He stayed there for a moment, hovering over you with eyes so intense you felt your mouth dry out.

“So fucking pretty,” he whispered, finally leaning in to kiss you. The kiss was aggressive, his calloused hand cupping your face and forcing you closer. Your teeth clashed as he licked into your mouth, but the searing feeling in your stomach made it impossible for you to care. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, eliciting a moan as his hand wandered down to your outer thigh. His fingers danced across your skin, pushing your skirt up until your black lace panties were exposed.

You threw your head back as he pressed his thumb against your folds, feeling how wet you’d gotten over the course of your earlier conversation. He breathed harshly, attaching his lips to your neck as he grazed a finger up and down your clothed cunt. You had no doubt that by morning, you would be painted with bruises. The thought was exciting to you.

He slipped a finger underneath the fabric of your panties, groaning when he felt your slick coat him in an instant. “So wet for me,” he almost growled, pulling his hand out despite your whines of disapproval. He pulled back, eyes flitting over your heaving form before settling into his seat. His lips were smudged red with your lipstick, and you found it unfair at how hot it was.

He was quick to pull away from the curb, the engine roaring to life as he drove down the busy street. It felt uncomfortably sticky between your thighs, rubbing them together. He was quick to grasp your thigh, pulling your legs open as he drove. While the hand on your thigh was still, his impatience showed in the hand that held the steering wheel, his finger tapping against it whenever he’d hit a red light.

You weakly moaned when his hand drifted higher, his pinky brushing against your core. You spread your legs further, urging him to do more than just light touches, but he didn’t give in to your silent pleas. The ride to, what you presumed was his place, was unbearably long as he continued to tease you. He would grip your thigh tightly, his rings pressing into your skin, and suddenly move up to flick at your covered clit. His sporadic movements left you a whining mess, your heart pounding against your ribcage. “Need you so badly,” you whined, flushing in embarrassment at how you sounded.

He scoffed, scraping his nail over your thigh, making you jump. “I can tell,” he said, his tone degrading as he pinched your skin. “Whining like a whore in my front seat, like it’ll make me fuck you any faster.” You gasped, his words going straight to your cunt. You could feel yourself get wetter, your panties sticking to your folds agonizingly.

You bit your lip as he pulled into an underground parking lot, the orange-hued lights casting an intimidating shadow over his face. When he finally parked, you realized he had brought you to a fancy apartment building. The parking lot was empty, not a soul in sight. Despite his words, he still opened your door for you, pulling you out of the car roughly. When the door closed, he pressed you against it, forcing his lips against yours as he ground his hips into yours. You moaned into his mouth at how hard he’d gotten, gripping at his blazer with shaking hands.

His kiss left you breathless, and you found that you really liked the feeling of his hands harshly holding your hips, keeping you from moving too far from him. You tongued at his piercing, taking his bottom lip into your mouth as he moved to push your dress up again. Pulling away, he was quick to kiss your neck as your eyes darted around the empty lot.

“Not here,” you gasped when he bit at the skin under your ear, “what if someone…”

He bit down harder, making you whine. “Let them see then,” he spat. “Let them see how much of a slut you are for me, sweetheart.” You made a noise of disagreement, causing him to pull away. You looked like a mess in heels, hair tousled, no longer in neat waves as you had them before, and makeup smudged. The glassy look in your eyes made him grin at you, a menacing curve of his pink lips.

He grabbed your wrist again, tugging you to the underground elevator as his car beeped behind you. The few seconds it took for the elevator to reach the parking lot felt agonizingly long, your legs shaking in anticipation.

The second the doors opened, he had you pressed against the frigid elevator walls, his hand blindly reaching to touch one of the top buttons. He pushed your dress up past your hips, fingering the lace undergarment between his thumb and pointer. Without wasting a second, he tugged. The sound of fabric ripping took you out of your trance as you realized he had completely torn them off you.

“Hey,” your voice was clipped as you frowned. “Those were expensive.”

He rolled his eyes at you, tucking the tattered fabric into his back pocket. “I’ll buy you a new set,” he said, annoyed that you had interrupted him. “Now shut up, princess.” He took your lips again, his hand moving to wrap loosely around your neck. He swiped his tongue over your lip as his free hand grasped at your hips.

“Fuck,” you whined highly when he traced a line up your cunt, collecting your juices on his fingertip. He made quick work with you, swiping over your clit with his thumb as he pushed two fingers into your sopping hole. The hand around your neck pressed down lightly, sending your senses into overdrive as he kissed you again.

“My name’s Heeseung,” he said against your lips. “Moan it for me tonight, yeah?” You nodded feebly as you spouted your own name in a mess of stutters.

When the elevator beeped, indicating that you were on the designated floor, he unwillingly pulled away from you. He stared at you darkly, pupils blown as he sucked his fingers clean. Your eyes trained on the way his tongue flicked at his rings, your slick disappearing into his mouth. You pulled your dress down as he guided you out with a hand on the small of your back.

When you made it into his apartment, you didn’t have time to gawk at how fancy it was, decked out with marble tiles and sleek glass light fixtures. As the door closed behind him, he pressed himself against your behind, grinding into your ass as he groaned lowly in your ear. His fingers dragged the fabric of your dress up to your waist, leaving your lower half exposed as Heeseung left dainty kisses against your bare shoulder.

Pulling the dress up and off, he ushered you further into the apartment, pushing open the door to his bedroom. He dropped the dress in the corner of the room before turning you around to face him. He took your lips, pressing deeply against you as he felt you up. His hands roamed as he licked into your mouth, one hand cupping and groping your left breast while the other shifted downwards. Resting on your hip, he brought you closer to him, pressing your bare cunt against his boner.

You reached down, palming his hard-on through his pants. He threw his head back in a silent moan, allowing you to continue with your ministrations. You hastily unbuckled his belt, tossing it on the floor next to your dress. Pushing his pants and boxers down past his knees, you almost moaned at the sight of his pretty cock.

It was long and thick, twitching as it wept pre-cum at the tip. It was a pretty flushed colour, enticing you closer. Looking up at him through your lashes, you watched Heeseung’s reaction as you licked the mushroom head gingerly. You scrunched up your nose at the bitter taste, but Heeseung’s wanton expression urged you to continue.

Taking the whole tip in your mouth, you sucked gently. You could feel yourself gush at the sound of his loud moan, pressing your thighs together as you tried to take more of him. He grazed the back of your throat before you could even take half of him. The sight of you struggling on his length made him feel impossibly hard, his ringed hand moving to grasp at your hair. Determined to make him feel good, you traced one of the veins that stretched along the length of his shaft with your fingernail before taking his cock in your fist.

Bobbing your head slowly, you matched your pass with your hand wherever your mouth couldn’t reach. Heeseung breathed heavily at the feeling of your hot cavern taking him in, your tongue swirling around his tip in a way that drove him up the wall. He could barely imagine how being in your cunt would feel, the mental image making him thrust unexpectedly against you.

When you gagged at the suddenness, Heeseung groaned, using your fisted hair to guide you up and down his shaft. “Fuck, baby,” he sighed, head thrown back and eyes scrunched in pleasure as you gained speed. “That mouth of yours is so fucking perfect. Like it was made for my cock.” He hissed when his head pressed against the back of your throat, holding it there until you swallowed around him, tears welling in your eyes.

The sounds that you were making would normally disgust you, the wet gags and spit dripping down your front as you struggled to take his girth, but with Heeseung, it only turned you on more. You rubbed your thighs together, feeling your slick coat your puffy folds.

Using his other hand to grip at your hair, he held you still as he fucked into your mouth, jaw agape as he watched you suckle on his length. You looked like the embodiment of sin, on your knees and taking his cock so well. He rubbed at the smudged mascara underneath your eyes, only making it spread as tears dripped down your face. “Shit,” he mumbled, gripping your hair tighter. “Fuck, I wanna make a mess on you, baby. Can I?”

You nodded the best you could, the thought of him cumming all over you making you impossibly wet. Swearing loudly, Heeseung pulled himself out of your mouth, using his hand to force your mouth open. You stuck your tongue out as he pumped himself desperately, chasing his release as he bore into your eyes. You gasped when he came, ropes of his cum shooting over your face and tongue.

He watched intently as you swallowed whatever landed in your mouth, wiping at the cum that dripped down your cheeks. “Get on the bed,” he said gruffly, not wanting to go another second without feeling your cunt drip around him.

You wasted no time in following his instructions, scooting further up the bed as he crawled on after you. He spread your legs roughly, situating himself between your thighs. Heeseung leaned forward, kissing you again as one of his hands rested around your throat. As he kissed you, sucking on your bottom lip before shoving his tongue into your mouth, his free hand traced down the side of your body.

Without warning, he touched your core, collecting your wetness on his fingertips as he rubbed up and down your cunt. You moaned loudly as he switched between teasing your entrance and swiping across your clit. “You’re so fucking wet, princess,” he groaned, kissing you deeply as he finally thrust two fingers into your hole.

You cried out into the kiss, arching your back up and into him as you held on. You gripped at his bicep that flexed with each movement, his fingers curling up into you. It didn’t take long for him to find your G-spot, rubbing dedicatedly against the spongey walls of your cunt. He sped up, thrusting his fingers into you with ease, slipping around your juices.

“Fuck, Heeseung,” you almost screamed as you neared your orgasm, “I’m so, so close, please—”

He pulled his fingers out, making you whine in disapproval, your eyes opening wide as you begged him to keep touching you. He ignored your silent pleas, taking his soaked fingers into his mouth as he had before. You watched, in a trance, as he swirled his tongue around his slender digits, the sight making you squirm in anticipation.

He reached over to his bedside drawer and pulled out a few packages. You glanced at them through your ditzy stupor, surprised to see several condom wrappers. Upon closer inspection, you realized they all had different flavours. “Pick one,” he instructed in an almost joking manner as if he didn’t just bring you to the edge with his fingers.

You contemplated just grabbing one at random, not wanting to wait any longer to feel him inside you. Reaching for one, you subconsciously made a face when you read what flavour it was.

“Not a fan of strawberry?” he asked rhetorically as he took the wrapper from you and tossed it back in the drawer. Impatient, he picked one and threw the rest back where he got them. You watched with intrigue as he opened the package with his teeth before rolling it onto his already hard cock.

“Hey,” he mumbled once he got the condom fully rolled on. “If you want me to stop at any moment, just say… Bambi, okay?”

You looked at him warily. “Bambi?”

He didn’t elaborate any further, pressing the tip of his cock against your folds. He rubbed the head through your slick, bumping against your clit before pressing into your tight entrance. He groaned in unison with you at the intrusion. You winced at the stretch, shoving your face into one of his pillows.

When he bottomed out, he pressed a sweet kiss against your cheek before pulling back and slamming into you. Your breath caught in your throat as you gasped for air, his sudden harsh thrusts surprising you. He breathed heavily as he moved, draping your legs over his shoulders as he leaned into you.

“So deep,” you cried, squirming at the stimulation. “Fuck, Heeseung!”

He moaned at the sound of his name on your tongue, leaning down to kiss you. The position only made him go deeper, and you struggled to kiss him properly, mind foggy with pleasure. His balls slapped against your ass, echoing against the walls. The sound of your sex was burned into your mind, Heeseung’s breathy groans and moans of your name bound to haunt your dreams from now on.

Heeseung pulled out and flipped you onto your side, re-entering you with ease. The position was something you’d never done before as Heeseung held your leg against his torso as he thrust harshly. He moaned out your name as he closed his eyes, as lost in the pleasure as you were.

“‘M gonna cum,” you warned, your voice high and shaking as you reached down to circle your clit. At the sight of you touching yourself, Heeseung sighed with rapture, trying hard to get you to the edge.

“Cum around me, baby,” he hushed as his thrusts grew harder, rougher. “Come on, you can do it.”

At his words, it felt like a cord had snapped inside of you, and you cried out as you came. He helped you through your orgasm, thrusting shallowly as your body shook and jolted. Once you had calmed down, he pulled out and fisted himself over the condom, the lube mixed with your wetness making it easy for his hand to slip up and down.

You watched, exhausted, as he leaned over you, a look of concentration on his face as he got off on your body. White filled the condom, low groans of your name reverberating in his chest as he collapsed on the bed next to you. You barely processed him standing to throw out the used rubber or how he came back with a warm towel and wiped you down gently.

Your eyes closed, and you felt yourself succumb to slumber.

When you awoke the next morning, you swore. Head pounding, you pressed your face into your pillow in annoyance. Of course, you would be having the worst hangover of your life. You didn’t even want to think about what your father would say if he knew you’d be walking into the meeting in a few hours, completely hungover.

You paused, pressing your face further into the pillow. The smell was unfamiliar, you noted. Not a second later, you sat up, eyes wide. Your lips parted in disbelief as you remembered where you were, memories of last night quickly returning to you. Holding the blanket up to your bare chest, you willed yourself to look over at the other side of the bed.

Heeseung lay there, rolled over onto his stomach, his cheek resting against the pillow as he slept. His hair was messy, sticking up in different directions almost cutely. You made a face when you caught a glimpse of angry red scratches down his back.

He looked unnervingly peaceful, considering the stampede your heart was experiencing. You swore under your breath again, quietly stepping out of the bed. The floorboard creaked underneath your weight, your head snapping back to see if the noise woke him up. Fortunately, he stayed blissfully in rest. You held your breath as you collected your discarded dress and your heels, also picking up the silk button-up you had thrown off of him last night.

He’s rich, clearly, you justified, taking a brief look around the room. His closet was cracked open, revealing several more expensive-looking clothes. Though, in your haste to make it to the bedroom, you didn’t get a good look at the rest of his apartment. You knew that it was huge if the building’s name wasn’t an indicator already. He won’t miss one shirt.

Not wanting to risk waking him up, you tip-toed out of the room before getting dressed in the hallway. You slipped the button-up on top of your dress and made your way to the front door, heels in hand. As you pushed the door open, you panicked when it beeped in alarm. With haste, you ran outside and closed the door before Heeseung could catch you sneaking out.

Without bothering to put your heels on, you booked it to the elevator, making it inside in time for you to hear Heeseung call your name. With wide eyes, you pressed the close doors button more times than necessary, only relaxing when they finally did close.

You opened your phone, only to see a text from your father asking where you were. Making an excuse, you used the reflective elevator walls to fix your appearance.

If anyone saw you, they would be none the wiser to the previous night. The automatic doors to your father’s company opened as you approached, a gust of air from the air conditioning pushing your freshly styled hair out of your face. Any marks that littered across your neck and shoulders were expertly covered up, and your eyebags were concealed just as well.

The sound of your heels, which your father insisted you wore in public, in the otherwise quiet lobby gathered the attention of the gaggle of people. Having so many eyes on you didn’t bother you as much as it had before, something you’re grateful to have gotten used to. Smiling politely at the pair of receptionists, you were quick to make your way up to your father’s office.

The elevator dinged, and you couldn’t help but think back to last night. The feeling of Heeseung’s warmth pressed against you as he fingered you and touched you was a thrill you don’t think you could forget if you tried. Clearing your throat, you looked at yourself in the mirrored walls, another habit you couldn’t get rid of.

Deeming yourself as presentable, you stepped out of the elevator and into your father’s large office. He sat at his desk, typing away at his computer. If he heard you come in, which he must’ve, he didn’t react. His graying hair stood out under the sunlight that the floor-to-ceiling windows let in. The glasses perched on his nose bridge threatened to fall down as his fingers tapped relentlessly.

“Good morning, Father,” you greeted, sitting down at the chair adjacent to his desk. He didn’t look up. “I’m a little early.” You crossed your legs, resting clasped hands on top of your knees. It didn’t surprise you when he didn’t say anything in reply, so you opted to look out the window. Being on the top floor, you could see most of the town. You could watch the bustling traffic and pedestrian-filled streets for hours, the busyness of life fascinating to you.

You weren’t able to stare for too long before a familiar ding interrupted your daydreams. You straightened your back, facing forward as your father stood to greet the newcomer. Unlike when you came in, your father straightened out his blazer with a warm smile, something that looked foreign to you. You watched quietly as he manoeuvred around the desk to formally greet the guest.

“Ah,” your father greeted placatingly, his timber voice filling the space.. “Lee Heeseung, it is great to finally meet you. I have heard much about you from your father.”

You felt your heart stop when you heard his name. Unwilling to turn around, you stared into the window’s faint reflection in hopes of seeing the man’s face. Maybe your Heeseung wasn’t the only Lee Heeseung in town. Surely, it wasn’t too uncommon of a name because there was no way that your one-night stand just happened to be your husband-to-be.

If your heart stopped when you heard his name, your soul left your body when you heard him talk.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, sir. I am honoured that you picked me out of all of your daughter’s candidates.”

As subtly as you could, you slapped a hand over your mouth.

You heard their footsteps grow closer. “Well, please have a seat,” your father ushered. “She’s right here. You ought to meet your future bride, right?” With each of their perfectly synced steps, you could imagine another foot of your grave being dug. “Heeseung, this is my daughter.” You inhaled sharply and took his cue to stand.

When you turned on your heel, you were sure that Heeseung’s shocked expression matched your own. Recognition burst behind his eyes, hidden behind a pair of glasses, and his lips—which you noticed was missing its piercing—parted in shock. You silently willed him to keep quiet about the night before, looking at him with widened eyes and a painfully fake smile.

“It’s you,” he blurted out, pointing at you with the slightest bend of his elbow. If you weren’t in front of your father, you could have smacked him over the head. “I was wondering where you went.”

Internally screaming, you put on a faux confused expression to match your father’s. “You two are acquainted already?” he asked, looking at you for confirmation. You were quick to shake your head no, glaring at Heeseung when your father looked away.

Bowing your head slightly, you smiled up at Heeseung as you would any other businessman. “You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you lied through your teeth, desperately hoping he would catch on. “We have never met before today. But it is nice to meet you.” You held out a hand for him to shake, which he did after fumbling for a bit.

Heeseung looked at you with a confused gaze, eyebrows knitted together before a lightbulb went off. “Right,” he smiled graciously, putting on a persona completely different from the one you met before. “My apologies. It is nice to meet you. I’m Lee Heeseung.” Letting go of your hand, he nodded when you introduced yourself.

Clapping his hands together, your father grinned widely at the both of you. “Now, I have some work to tend to, but the two of you can continue to get to know each other downstairs.” Wanting nothing more than to escape the stuffy room, you agreed stiffly. “I’ll have the wedding planners contact you both later on.” Your father nodded at Heeseung once more before returning to his desk, the sound of his noisy keyboard filling the room again.

Heeseung followed you out after saying goodbye to your father, standing far too close to you in the elevator. “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” he drawled out, voice dry. “The very woman who I happened to have a fun night with, only to wake up with her nowhere in sight, is the very woman whom I’m marrying.” He bore his gaze into you as he leaned against the elevator wall, his prim posture long gone. “How exciting, is it not?”

“Please, Heeseung, do not bring up last night.” Your voice was terse as you pinched your nose bridge in frustration, your ears and face warming up.

Heeseung raised a brow at your request, pushing off the elevator wall and stepping close to you. Your eyes widened as he backed you into the wall, eyes darting to the LED screen that showed which floor you were on. If anyone were to need the elevator, they would catch Heeseung pinning you to the wall, and you would have no excuse for it. “Come on, princess,” his voice lifted into a tease, “that’s not how you were begging me last night.”

You groaned, dropping your head and hitting it against the wall behind you. “Heeseung,” you hissed, glaring at him. You tried very hard to ignore the way that his glasses framed his face nicely and made him even more handsome, which you didn’t think was possible. “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. Do not bring up last night unless you want me to castrate you.”

Heeseung pouted at you, resting a hand on his chest as though you’d mortally wounded him. “But if you castrate me, how am I supposed to please—”

“Heeseung!”

He laughed openly at you, shoulders shaking as his lips split open into a grin. “You’re so easy to rile up, princess.” He leaned toward you, hovering himself above you by resting his forearm against the wall. You glanced at the screen again, silently cursing your father for owning a building with slow elevators. “I don’t know what’s so bad about people finding out that we’re—how do you say it?—well acquainted.”

You breathed out in annoyance at his ignorance. “Did you hit your head? I don’t know about you, Heeseung, but I do care about how the public perceives me.” You jabbed a finger at his chest, though it had no effect on him. “If people find out, then…” You trailed off, your brows furrowing as you looked at the ground, the recently shined tiles sparkingly under the fluorescent lights.

“Then?”

You bit your lip, thinking back at your father and his cold demeanour. “Look,” you started, shoulders deflating. “If my father finds out that I went to that club at all and had sex with some guy that I didn’t know… He wouldn’t react well.” You spoke lowly, the topic dampening your mood immensely.

“Ouch,” Heeseung joked, tilting his head at you. “So, I’m just some guy to you?”

You deadpanned at him, unimpressed with the small snippet of information he chose to focus on. “You get what I mean, asshole. So please, just stop bringing it up. At least, not in front of him.” Your faith in his compassion was dwindling by the second, and his silence wasn’t doing much to help. When the elevator doors opened, you were ready to give up and began formulating an apology to your father for your behaviour.

Before you could duck under his arm to make your way out, he laid a gentle hand on your wrist. “Okay, okay. I won’t talk about it again. You have my word, princess.” You balked at his sudden sincerity, but before you could even utter a thank you, he opened his mouth again. “No more talking about how we had the most mindblowing sex—”

“Lee Heeseung!” You chided, quickly ducking under his arm and rushing out of the elevator. Your face burned as you walked through the lobby, no doubt catching the attention of curious onlookers. Embarrassment flooded your veins as you exited the building, standing on the curb with your face in your hands.

Not wanting to be there any longer, you pulled out your phone and searched for your personal driver’s contact. Before you could press the green call button, your phone was snatched out of your manicured hands. “Hey—!”

To your surprise, or perhaps you weren’t surprised at all, Heeseung stood next to you with your phone haphazardly dangling between his fingers. “What are you doing?” You asked as you reached to grab it. He pulled it away, grinning when it left you pressed against him.

“What are you doing?”

You rolled your eyes, jumping to grab your phone. Once it was back in your possession, you went to call your driver. “Going,” you answered simply.

“Going where?”

“Going anywhere but here.”

He clicked his tongue, pulling a pair of keys out of his pocket. “I’ll drive you. There’s no need to wait for your driver.”

You eyed him suspiciously, your thumb hovering over the call button. “I don’t think you understand. When I said I wanted to be anywhere but here, here is referring to here with you.”

He gave you the same look as he did in the elevator, lips upturned into a pout as his eyebrows arched upward. “You really do wound me, princess.” He pressed a button on his fob, and you could see a car’s lights flash a few meters away. It wasn’t the same one he had driven you in last night, so you looked at him in question. “I have two cars. One for business, one for fun,” he winked at you when he said the last word, only laughing when you pretended to vomit in your mouth.

“Come on, princess,” he took your wrist for the nth time. “Let’s go.” You begrudgingly followed, not missing the way several workers from inside had lined up against the window to watch the interaction. You smiled politely at them again, waving goodbye as Heeseung practically dragged you along.

Just as he had the night before, he opened the door for you. This car was much simpler in design than the bright red one, with a dashboard instead of a HUD and a simple touch screen instead of dozens of buttons and features you were too distracted to play with.

As he drove off, you stared out the window, refusing to look in his direction. He had pushed up the sleeves of his blazer, showing off his toned and veiny forearms as he drove, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the middle console. “I’ll take you home,” Heeseung claimed as he slowed to a stop for a red light. “But let me show you something first.”

You looked at him incredulously but only nodded before looking out the window again.

You didn’t pay attention to where he was taking you, watching fondly as groups of friends walked down the streets, wide grins splitting their faces as they talked. It was rush hour, and you ended up paused in traffic long enough to watch a couple emerge from one of the street stores, arms linked and full of shopping bags. They were wearing matching sweatpants and sweaters, making you look down at the dress you wore. Pursing your lips, you stopped looking as you pulled your skirt down.

“Y’know, last night your skirt was getting pushed up.”

At his words, you glared at him. “You are so sleazy.”

Heeseung only grinned, never taking his eyes off of the road. “Something’s on your mind. Had to get you out of that head of yours somehow.” He briefly glanced at you, “Did it work?”

You blinked in surprise before looking away. Your hands clenched on your lap. “Where are we going?” you asked, changing the subject. You pretended not to notice when Heeseung stared at you, opting to look straight ahead.

“Somewhere I frequent. I’ll give you some leverage over me.” You peeked at him as he made a left turn, tracing over the lines of his arms. “Sound good, princess?”

You could only scrunch your nose in confusion. “Why would you want me to have leverage over you in the first place?”

Heeseung shrugged. “It’s clear you don’t trust me. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t bring us up again in front of your dad, but I don’t think you believe me ‘cause you’ve barely looked at me since you got in the car.” You winced, not liking how he read through you so easily when you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “So, I’m bringing you somewhere that I’ve kept secret. You’ll be the only one who knows who could actually, you know, get me in shit with my dad.”

Unsure of what to say, you stared at his side profile in shock. “You are so confusing,” you muttered, leaning over to look out the window. You rested your chin on your palm to cover your warming face.

Before long, Heeseung pulled into an indoor race track’s parking lot. You looked out the window in confusion. Even from outside, you could hear the revving of engines and the squeaking of tires against asphalt. You spared Heeseung a look, climbing out of the car wordlessly. He nodded his head at you, guiding you to the entrance.

When you entered, the first thing you noticed was the yelling. Specifically, the sounds of fifth graders screaming as they circled the track in their go-karts. “Heeseung, buddy, I hate to break it to you, but a kiddie go-kart track isn’t exactly a best-kept secret.” A kid zoomed by on his kart, screaming at the top of his lungs as he pressed hard on the gas.

Heeseung only rolled his eyes at you, “So impatient.” Taking your hand in his, he tugged you along the back wall until you reached a staff-only door. Before you could argue, clearly neither of you was staff, Heeseung pushed the door open as if he owned the place. You gawked at him, whipping your head around to see if any staff were coming to kick you out.

To your surprise, the man behind the front counter only nodded in acknowledgement before going back to his morning coffee.

Heeseung kept walking, his large hand never leaving yours. You subconsciously balled them, swallowing thickly when Heeseung untangled your fingers to interlock them with his. Sneaking a look at you over his shoulder, he cheekily stuck his tongue out. The hallway beyond the door was empty, aside from a few bulletins with weekly events posted on them.

Once you reached the end of the hall, a staircase leading to a basement came into view. You pinched your eyebrows together in suspicion, rooting your feet on the ground before Heeseung could pull you any further. “Look, I’m not really in the mood to be murdered today, so I think we’ll have to reschedule—”

Rolling his eyes at you for the nth time that day, he pulled harder on your hand, almost knocking you off your feet. He caught you with ease, his warm palm pressing against your waist as he waited for you to steady yourself. “Trust me a little, please? I promise you won’t get murdered.” At the end of his sentence, he held out a pinky. You stared incredulously at him, decked out in office attire yet holding out his baby finger to you like an adolescent.

“Are you five?”

“Hey, cut me some slack. I’m six, actually,” he teased, wiggling his pinky at you as he silently urged you to follow through with it. Heaving a sigh, you latched your finger with his.

After following Heeseung down the dingy staircase, you were met with a similar sight. A large racing track encompassed the room, looping and curving in a way that filled the space. However, unlike the track you saw upstairs, this one was occupied by cars you’ve seen in racing movies. A deafening rush of cars drove past, sending a gust of wind your way.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, staring at the cars drive uncomfortably close to one another as they made another harsh turn.

Heeseung smiled at your awed expression, a sense of pride blooming in his chest. “Well,” he exhaled, “this is my secret.”

You turned to him quickly in disbelief. “You race?” As surprising as it might’ve been, the longer you thought about it, the more it made sense. Maybe it’d be hard to believe that the Heeseung in front of you was a racer, but the one from last night? With his dark demeanour and fancy car, you’d believe it in a heartbeat.

“Only on my work breaks,” he winked. “I’ve been coming here for years. This is where loads of the street racers in town come to get their fix when there are no races going on up top.”

“Street racers?” you echoed. “Like… the illegal ones?”

“Totally like… the illegal ones.”

You slapped his shoulder at his remark, bristling as you turned away. Heeseung only laughed, a loud laugh that stemmed from his tummy as he threw his head back at your displeasure. Ruffling your hair, he walked away, leaving you standing at the bottom of the staircase. You sputtered, moving to follow him, but before you could take another step, a man blocked your view of him.

“You must be Heeseung’s girl.”

You frowned at the assumption, even if it was technically true. “What on earth are you talking about?” you combatted, looking over the man with disdain.

He threw his arms up in surrender, silently telling you he meant no harm. “Relax! I just assumed because Heeseung has never brought anyone down here before.” He paused for a moment before smiling at you with a glint in his eye. “But you were also holding hands just now, so…”

Your face flushed at the prospect of getting caught. “Shut it. Who are you, anyway?”

The man’s smile widened into a grin, showing off his pearly whites. “I’m Jake. I run this place, so I’ve known Heeseung for forever. You, on the other hand,” he jutted a finger in your direction. “You’re a new face. Usually, newbies need clearance before coming down here, but I’ll trust Hee on this one. ‘Sides, I’ve seen you on a few posters here and there.” He whistled lowly, looking over his shoulder at the direction Heeseung left in. “I knew he was some hotshot, but I didn’t know he could actually pull someone like you.”

“Like me?”

Jake raised a brow at you, scanning your face as if you’d just insulted him to his face. “Uh, yeah? You’re a model, right? You’ve got the looks, so don’t be so bashful down here.” The sound of loud engines cut him off. The excitement seemed to burst from within him as he immediately ushered you over to some bleachers. “C’mon, they’re starting soon.”

He sat next to you as you tried to make yourself comfortable, feeling jittery from being left alone with a stranger. Not that Heeseung was any less strange to you, but it was better than being sat thigh-to-thigh with someone you’d just met.

“Purple car’s Yang Jungwon. The silver one is Park Jongseong,” he listed off to you as if you would know who either of those people were. You couldn’t help but nod along, his golden-retriever-like excitement rubbing off on you. You’ve never watched a car race in person before, nor have you ever gone to any event like it. “Green is our baby, Riki Nikimura. He just started racing a few months ago.”

As he talked, a familiar red car pulled up next to the others, revving its engine loudly as if to proclaim I’m here. “You probably know,” Jake continued. “But that one’s Heeseung.”

A whistle blew, and suddenly the four cars became blurs. It was as if you’d miss half the race if you even dared to blink. You watched, astounded, as the racers circled the track with ease, not bumping into each other a single time.

The race was over before you knew it, four laps around the large track driven in a matter of minutes. The victor, Heeseung, erupted out of his vehicle with a large grin on his face, pulling at his cheeks in pure joy. The other racers met him on the tracks; their car doors opened as they joined together on the asphalt.

You watched from a distance as they conversed excitedly, too far for you to make out any of their words. Beside you, Jake nudged you with his elbow. “Cool, huh?”

You breathed out, making eye contact with Heeseung as he beamed at you, sending you a wave before turning back to the other three. “Yeah,” you said simply. “Really cool.”

After Heeseung showed you the race track, you ended up seeing each other more often than you first thought you would. Turns out your father was serious about your engagement. True to his words, wedding planners met with you the day after the meeting. And the one after that. And the next.

A whole week of wedding planning sped past, and by the end of it, you were exhausted. You had one more stop on your schedule for the day, a simple cake tasting with Heeseung. You made it to the bakery first, standing outside idly on your phone as you waited for your husband-to-be to arrive. Your driver and security guard waited in the car parked nearby.

An engine revved twice, something that you’ve come to know as Heeseung’s way of greeting. When you looked up, he was already locking his car across the street, jogging across the empty road to meet you. “Hey,” he breathed, running a hand through his locks. “Sorry, I’m late. Riki’s engine was busted, and the kid doesn’t know how to fix ‘em yet. Normally we get Jay or Sunghoon to do the mechanic work, but they’re out scouting for spots.”

The mention of a possible race piqued your interest. You shook your head, smiling softly at him. “I just got here. You’re fine, Hee. Let’s head in?” He nodded, opening the bakery door for you before following you in.

The smell of fresh cake invaded your senses the second you stepped in. You closed your eyes in delight, taking in the scent blissfully. Heeseung chuckled at your antics, using his hand to guide you further into the building by the small of your back.

Before long, a head popped out from the back, a rather young-looking boy with a tall chef’s hat placed neatly atop his cotton-candy pink hair. His eyes were bright as he caught your gaze, cheeks pinkening at the sight of you. “Hi,” he greeted the both of you, dusting off leftover flour on his apron. “You must be Lee Heeseung and—” the boy turned to you, awestruck as he sputtered out your name. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stare,” he apologized bashfully, bowing his head. “You’re just prettier in person. The magazines don’t do you justice.”

You had the gall to blush at his words, turning your head in slight embarrassment. “Thank you,” you paused to read his nametag. “Kim Sunoo. That’s very sweet of you.”

If possible, he turned redder at the sound of his name coming from your cherry lips. Beside you, Heeseung watched the interaction with displeasure soaking into his skin. “We’re here to taste your cakes,” he cut in before Sunoo could say another word, knocking him out of his reverie. “For our wedding.” If Sunoo noticed that Heeseung had stressed the last word, he didn’t say anything. You nudged him gently, telling him with your eyes to behave.

Heeseung’s eyes narrowed, but he kept his lips together.

The two of you followed Sunoo to the back, where an assortment of cake slices were laid on the counter. Your eyes bulged at the sight, counting over twenty cakes. “Your wedding planners gave me a list of what flavours you both had mentioned wanting,” Sunoo introduced, gesturing to the cakes with a wave. “There were… quite a few between the both of you, but luckily some overlapped.”

A few seemed to be an understatement. Heeseung looked over the variety of cakes before pointing at one. “Is this one strawberry?” he asked, inspecting it closely. You hovered by his side, gazing down at the many plates. Sunoo nodded in confirmation, clasping his hands in front of him. “Are any of the other ones strawberry-flavoured?”

“We have a few, yes—”

“Take them away; we won’t be choosing those.”

You blinked in surprise at his firm standing, as did Sunoo, who tilted his head in confusion. The movement reminded you of a puppy, and you fought the urge to giggle at it. “But the strawberry flavours were on your profile.”

At his words, you turned to Heeseung with a frown. “If you picked them, shouldn’t we at least try them first?” You surveyed the many strawberry cakes that Sunoo was in the process of putting away. “You obviously like them.”

Heeseung didn’t even spare you a glance. “You don’t like them.”

You stared open-mouthed at him. “How do you know I don’t like strawberries?” At your question, Heeseung finally met your gaze, only smirking at you as he rested his weight against the countertop, leaning on his palms.

“Do you really want me to get into that story here, princess?” You frowned in confusion. However, when you looked over at Sunoo, it seemed as though a light bulb had gone off for him, as his face became redder than the strawberries on the cake he was holding. A second passed before realization dawned on you, and you refrained from smacking Heeseung upside the head.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, ignoring the heat pooling in your tummy. “Let’s just taste these cakes and go home.”

Heeseung chortled, not even minding the fact that he may have left a rather lewd image in the younger man’s mind. “Whatever you say.”

After the first hiccup, the cake tasting went smoothly. You and Heeseung had finally decided on a cake with multiple tiers, allowing for multiple flavours. All of the bigwigs will be invited, Heeseung argued. Might as well appease them all.

A long hour had passed before the final order was set, and Sunoo told you to come by a couple weeks before the wedding to finalize the cake. Before you left, Sunoo came up to you, notepad in hand. “Sorry to bother you,” he spoke lowly, looking at you with a pretty smile. “Could I get your autograph?”

You agreed wordlessly, taking the pen from his outstretched hand. After signing it, Sunoo didn’t even give you the option of returning the pen on your own, instead taking your hand in his fondly. “I did mean it,” he said with sincerity dripping from his honey voice. “You really are prettier in person.”

You didn’t get to reply before Sunoo’s hand was slapped away. Heeseung’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, bringing you close to his side as he stared daggers at the baker. “Might I remind you that the woman you’re talking to will be my wife?” He spoke firmly, leaving no room for questions as he turned, dragging you out of the bakery. Your driver and security guard were long gone, having left at Heeseung’s promise to bring you home.

“What was that?” You asked in disbelief, glancing over your shoulder in time to watch Sunoo disappear in the back. “He’s just a fan, Heeseung.”

He said nothing, opening the door for you before promptly slamming it once you were situated. You flinched at the aggression, eyes trained on the man as he made his way into the driver’s seat. He started the engine silently, the keys jingling as they hung from the ignition. His left hand wrapped around the steering wheel, but he made no motion to pull away from the curb.

Instead, he leaned over the middle console and pulled you closer by the chin, three fingers gripping you tightly. You gasped at the sudden forceful movement, staring widely into his dark eyes. You felt his breath tickle your skin as he stared at you, eyes fixated on you as if you’d disappear if he looked away.

“You’re driving me mad,” he uttered, lips just barely brushing over yours as he spoke. He had his lip ring in today, and you shivered at the feeling. “Ever since that night, you’ve been on my mind. And it’s driving me insane because I can’t do anything about it,” he hushed, his tone torturous as he bore into you.

“When I walked into your father’s office last week, you have no idea how happy it made me knowing that you were going to be mine,” he hissed, fingers digging into your skin almost uncomfortably. “You’re mine, and yet you’re here entertaining other men that shouldn’t even matter to you.”

“Heeseung,” you mumbled breathlessly, eyes darting down to his plump lips. He narrowed his eyes at you harshly, his normally rounded eyes growing sharper as irritation swirled in his dark hues.

“You’re mine, princess,” he rasped, leaning forward. His lips pressed against yours in a kiss, his body moving fervently against yours to convey his turmoil. You moaned loudly when he bit down on your lower lip, his tongue licking into your mouth as he kept his hold on you. Unlike his other kisses, this one was messy. Your teeth clashed as he shifted closer, spit dribbling down your chin and onto your pressed clothing.

The hand that gripped your chin moved to wrap around your neck. He didn’t press down, but the heat that surrounded you sent shivers down your spine. “Let me take you home,” he almost begged, moving to bite at your ear. “Wanna show you who you belong to.”

You whimpered at his words, pressing your thighs together fruitlessly. “My apartment’s closer,” you gasped when he bit down on your jugular, his hot tongue shooting out to lick at the teeth marks. “Go there, please.”

The ride passed by in a blur, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself pressed against another elevator wall. It was hard to contain your moans as Heeseung made his way down your neck, unbuttoning your shirt until your bra was available to him. He fisted your breasts through the fabric, eliciting a lewd groan from you.

“Such a whore,” he jeered against your lips as he kissed you again. “Letting me touch you like this, undress you like this. You probably want to get caught, don’t you?” He groaned, grinding his growing hard-on against you through your clothes. You let out a noise at how hard he’d gotten, your mind swirling as continued to press himself against you. “Fuck, baby. You’re driving me crazy,” he sucked your earlobe, the sensation making you squirm.

When the elevator dinged, Heeseung made haste, tugging you into your apartment after fumbling with your keys. The door slammed behind you, and you felt the cool touch of wood against your back as he pressed you against it. He wasted no time kissing you deeply, hands roaming your sides as he pushed your shirt off completely. Your bra followed soon after, his expert hands unclasping it with ease. You barely caught sight of it being thrown haphazardly across the hall in a haze.

He tugged down your pants after popping the button, shoving them down your legs unceremoniously. You whined into his mouth, tugging at the fabric of his shirt. Letting go of your lips, he pulled the shirt over his head before coming back for more. You could get addicted to the way he kissed you, needy and full of desire. His lip ring pressed against your skin, the contrast making you sigh.

“Jump,” he mumbled against your lips before claiming them as his own once more. With ease, he hoisted your legs around his slim waist, pressing you harder against the door as he ground into you. You moaned loudly at the feeling of his clothed dick, your thin panties doing little to mask the sensation. You briefly wondered if your neighbours could hear you, but the thought left as soon as it came when Heeseung cupped your breasts roughly. “You remember the safe words?”

You nodded impatiently, moving your hips against his desperately. “Yes! Please, just fuck me,” you begged, trying and failing to feel more of him. Your hands dragged down his toned front, grasping onto his warmth like a parasite.

“Where’s your bedroom,” he asked, pulling away to look you in the eye. His bare chest heaved, his skin turning pink. The sight of Heeseung’s bruising lips and glossy eyes had you falling apart in his arms as you directed him to your bedroom.

You were less-than-gracefully dropped onto your mattress as Heeseung stood over you, unbuckling his belt. The light from the hallway illuminated him, casting a glow around his figure. His eyes never left your body, eyes roaming up and down as he rid himself of his trousers. You trained your sight on his bulge, his boxers doing little to hide his length.

“You’re mine,” he repeated, climbing over you slowly. “Mine. Your smile is mine. Your laugh is mine.” He cupped your boobs, circling your nipples with calloused thumbs as he watched you carefully. “These are mine.” Heeseung leaned forward, pressing his clothed cock against your cunt. “Fuck—this pussy’s mine too, yeah? You were made for me, all mine.”

You could only nod, not trusting your own voice, as he moved to pull your panties off. You whined when you felt the fabric stick to your folds, your slick acting like glue. Heeseung balled up the fabric, unceremoniously shoving it in your mouth. You whined, the noise coming out muffled as Heeseung pulled off his boxers, revealing his hard dick.

“You don’t need to talk,” he growled, leaning down to bite at your neck. “Clearly, you’re just a stupid bitch who doesn’t know when she should speak. Why else would you let that fuck flirt with you in front of me, huh?”

You shook your head adamantly, attempting to speak through your cum soaked panties.

“You think he knows that you’re laying here, spread out for me like this? Do you think he knows just how fucking wet you are for me?” He slapped your cunt as he spoke, causing you to jump. A sick look of pride took over his features at the sight of your glassy eyes, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. He dragged two fingers up your cunt from your weeping entrance up to your puffy clit.

“Shit,” he groaned at the touch. “Gonna make you mine. Gonna fill you with my cum, so everyone knows, yeah?” Using your slick as lube, he rubbed his shaft slowly, never taking his eyes off you. You lifted your hips off the bed, wanting nothing more than for him to rail you, but he was quick to push your body down, his large palm pressing against your tummy firmly.

You cried out as best you could when he rubbed the tip of his cock against your folds, collecting your juices as he fucked against your clit. He pressed the fat tip into your entrance, the familiar burn causing your eyes to roll back. He groaned lowly as he pressed himself into you, heaving when his hips met yours.

He watched as his cock slipped in and out of your clenched hole with ease, your heat sucking him in. Pushing your legs up against your chest, Heeseung steadied himself on his knees as he buried himself in your pussy. “Fuck,” he drawled out, his head thrown back in pleasure. Your eyes trailed down his neck, his Adam’s apple jutting out deliciously as he swallowed.

Pushing down on the back of your thighs, pressing your legs almost uncomfortably against your body, he moved with the same passion he used to kiss you in the car. You almost screamed, biting down on your soaked panties as he drilled into you. The sound of your wetness slipping against his cock was obscene, but God did Heeseung love it. He moved faster and faster, pistoling into you with an unrivalled enthusiasm.

Releasing one of your legs, he reached down to circle your clit, making you jolt up from the bed. You threw your head back, loud cries escaping your throat even through your improvised gag. “So fucking good for me,” Heeseung groaned, draping his body over you as he shoved his face into the crook of your neck. His pace never faltered, strong and hard thrusts pushing your body up the bed. “Fuck—! This fucking pussy was made for me.”

Without warning, he pulled your panties out of your mouth, now dripping with saliva. He dropped them somewhere on the bed, his hips slamming against yours as he kissed you. You moaned into the kiss, hands grabbing blindly at his back. “H-Heeseung!” You cried, burying your face into your comforter as hot tears burned the corners of your eyes.

“Come on,” he hushed, pressing against your clit faster. “Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel you cream around my cock. You can do that for me, can’t you?” You blabbered out nonsense, unable to make any coherent words as his hardness dragged along your gummy walls. You could feel the rope in your stomach tightening as his thrust became more desperate. His rhythm stayed constant, even as the back of his thighs burned and his cock twitched.

“F—uck,” he almost sobbed, his voice breaking as he fucked into you ruthlessly. “God, baby, feel so fucking good. Gonna cum inside, yeah?” His voice echoed in your ear, leaving goosebumps on your skin. You couldn’t tell if you were nodding or shaking your head to his words, your mind a mess, as all you could focus on was the feeling of his cock. “You’re gonna take it for me—shit—take it all. Don’t want any of it coming out.”

You felt something snap as you arched your back, your orgasm washing over you in brutal waves, like a tsunami crashing against your body over and over. You sobbed as Heeseung kept moving, never relenting in his pace as he chased his own release. His fingers kept circling your clit, even with your feeble attempts to push them away. “Heeseung,” you cried as overstimulation racked your body.

Heeseung swore under his breath, kissing you gently, contrasting his harsh thrusts. “I know, baby,” he sighed, sweat rolling down his face as he pecked your lips. “Just a bit longer for me, shit, you’re taking me so well.” He moaned loudly as he neared, gripping your hips tightly as he plunged into you.

He bit your shoulder as he came, ropes of thick cum painting your walls white. His hips stuttered, a quiet fuck, fuck, fuck spoken into your shoulder. Heeseung didn’t stop thrusting into you gently until his orgasm faded away, pressing his softening cock deeper into you. You could feel his cum seeping out of you, soft whimpers rumbling in your throat at the feeling.

His breath was heavy as he all but collapsed on you, using what little strength he had to hold himself up so he didn’t crush you. He left gentle kisses on the marks on your neck, making you shiver in sensitivity. He pressed a lingering peck against your lips before leaning back slightly to look you in the eye.

Heeseung shifted to move a stray hair out of your face, and you couldn’t help but melt at the way he was rubbing circles on your hip. Leaning up, your eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him, wrapping tired arms around his nape as you brought his body flush against yours. The movement made him accidentally press against your clit, and the both of you moaned into the kiss. You swiped your tongue over his lip ring, sucking it into your mouth as you moved your hips slowly.

“You’re insatiable,” he mumbled against your lips. Despite his words, he felt himself grow hard when he glanced down at your shifting hips and the ring of white around his shaft.

“You love it,” you countered, holding him against your body tighter.

He scoffed, pressing a kiss against your forehead before rolling you over so that you were sitting on his lap, dick still inside. You squeaked when he took your hips and rolled you back and forth over his cock, your cunt still sensitive. “No more running away,” he rasped as he fucked up into you slowly.

You leaned down to kiss him once more in silent agreement.

©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

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diablasuenos · 1 month ago

Text

how do you want it | damian priest

pairing — damian priest x fem!reader | warnings — smut, 18+, unprotected sexual activity (always use caution when engaging in any sexual activity) minors dni

genre — smut with minor plot | author’s note — inspired by touch me by victoria monet & this lovely request | @stacys-momxx | @eringobragh420

You noticed his hands before anything else. Not his voice, not his smile —but his hands. They were adorned with worn metal rings and scars of the life he used to live. You took note of the way he emphasized his words with his hands — especially when he spoke Spanish, the hint of his Bronx accent colliding with his native tongue — and how they eclipsed the topic of the conversation. He held a tight grip on everything — his luggage, the ring’s ropes, his opponents — and you were no exception.

Even know as you looked at him from across the bar you imagined the feeling of his fingertips coasting hauntingly on your skin, down your spine, and between your legs. You watched the way his skull ring glinted underneath the glowing lights of the bar and wondered if they would send a chill down your body when the coolness of the metal met your throat while he choked you gently.

In perfect world, Damian wouldn’t even be out tonight, no, because in a perfect world he would have never even made it out of the hotel room. In a perfect world, his thick fingers would be inside you while the other hand fisted your hair. In a perfect world, you wouldn’t have to down three shots and a cocktail to attempt to ease the tension building up inside simply because you agreed to go out and socialize. In a perfect world you would’ve admitted to your partner that the only thing on your mind for the 24 hours was his hands all over you. But you didn’t live in a perfect one — you lived in a flawed one where your boyfriend was a social butterfly.

Instead of calming your nerves, the alcohol seemingly made you even hungrier, thirstier, hornier than you ever knew yourself to be — emboldened by the liquid courage. You took matters into your own hands and strutted across the bar, placing yourself underneath your boyfriend’s arm where the palm of his hand settled comfortably on your ass. You leaned into the crook of his arm, sipping your drink and relishing underneath his touch, the conversation simply white noise as you focused on the heat that was pooling in the center of your stomach.

“You good, baby?” Damian’s breath caressed your ears as he used a finger to lightly brush your hair off your shoulder. “Need anything?”

“M’good.” You meet his gaze with a soft smile. He pressed a kiss to your temple and zoned back into the discussion. You found it hard to focus with the way his fingertips were drawing tiny circles on your hip bone, each sweep agonizing and icy hot. It was tortuous to be so close to him yet his touch still so far away — what you would give for him to sweep up the bottom of your dress and part your legs with his massive hands and make good use of his ring adorned fingers. It had been too long since you had seen him and although you enjoyed seeing his friends and coworkers too, you were dying to get him to yourself. “I’m going to close our tab.” You subtly said to him in hopes he caught your drift and when his eyes narrowed, you knew that he had.

You were only two steps into the hotel room when you began to fall apart under his touch. He placed one arm underneath your thighs — like the absolute man he was — and lifted you up to carry you through the hotel suite. He swiped away all the junk that accumulated on the dining table and sat you on the edge before stepping between your legs.

“You been eyeing me all night.” He chuckled.

“A girl can’t admire her man?” You blinked lazily as you leaned back onto your hands. “I missed you.”

“You missed me?” Damian dipped his head into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin softly. His hands trailed up your thighs to push the fabric of your dress around your waist before instinctively pulling at the sliver of fabric that you called a thong.

“Mhm.” You managed. He hooked his pointer finger around the fabric, using it as a guide down to your pussy. His knuckle grazed over your clit, down between your soaking wet lips, and ended at your entrance. He had no intentions of touching you — not yet. Not without making you beg for it.

“Yeah? How much did you miss me?” He asked, his knuckle running up and down your slick folds. You arched your back and tilted your hips forward, hoping and praying to feel him get deeper inside you.

“Enough to consider have you fuck me in the bathroom of the bar.”

“Closed mouths don’t get fed,” Damian said with th a click of his tongue. “You should’ve let me know.” He began peppering kisses on the top of your cleavage. You sighed softly at the feeling of his pillowy lips on your skin. Second best thing about Damian? His mouth and all the little tricks he could do with it. “You know you can get whatever you want, querida.”

“Whatever I want?” You gasped as he trailed his mouth up your cleavage to your clavicle then to your neck and underneath your ear. He suckled on the sensitive skin and smiled when a moan erupted from you. You arched your back and wrapped your legs around him, fighting the urge to have him take you then and there.

“Lo que sea.” (Whatever) He breathed out in Spanish.

“I want you, now.” You admitted.

“How do you want it?” He asked and bit down on the skin he had taken to sucking on. When his eyes finally found your face, your head was thrown back, eyes closed, enjoying every stroke of his knuckle against your pussy. You quivered under his touch and placed a hand underneath his t-shirt, grabbing at his bare skin, wanting him closer. Instead of answering him, you grabbed two of his ring clad fingers that were in your panties and placed it then in your mouth. You pushed them deep into your throat before pulling them out slowly, letting every bit of his fingertips feeling your tongue. You could taste yourself on him and it was so hot you couldn’t even see straight.

“You want my hands, baby?” He asked with a knowing smile, eyeing his now soaking wet fingers. You bit your lip and nodded, desperate for his touch. You shimmied off your panties and he stepped back to admire the view of you on the table, spread wide, like a dreamy midnight snack. “You love when I finger fuck you don’t you?”

“Fuck yes,” you whimpered as he took to stroke you teasingly slow. Your hips bucked up and you found yourself chasing after his touch, wanting to feel him completely encompass you with his hand.

He obliged to your request by sticking a lone, thick, finger inside of you. You gasped at how easily you took him in and he deep inside you he went. He moved his hands in and out of your dripping wet cunt and watched how you soaked his fingers so quickly. He groaned when he swirled your hips to take him deeper, already twitching under his touch. He grabbed your hips with his free hand to hold you place, placing another finger inside you.

You were tight around his fingers but you were in heaven. The wet, sloshy sound of you getting fucked by your man was music to your ears and when he began coaching you through the thickness of his fingers, you damn near fell to pieces.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” He praised you, his forehead dropping down to touch yours. “Takin’ all of me like a good girl.”

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, gasping for breath. His mouth was inches from yours and you were desperately ready for him to give in and kiss you but instead, he kept the distance as he continued talking.

“This is just the beginning,” he told you, “I want that pretty ass bent over the table.”

“Please,” You said. “Oh my god.” Your legs twitched as he hit that one spot just right. You bit your lip and whimpered, telling him you couldn’t take it any more. You were certain your orgasm was going to come crashing down on you at any moment. It had been too long without him and simply being in his presence, let alone being finger fucked by him, was taking you over the edge.

Damian’s hands were off of you and before you could even protest, he grabbed you by the throat and turned you around. He grabbed your hips with both hands and trailed them up your back, placing another finger hand on the lower arch of your back and bending you over. He dropped down to his knees, soaking in the savory sweet smell of your pussy before diving in. His tongue was warm and hot against your clit and once again, your legs twitched in accordance to the way he flicked his tongue. He made quick work of taking off his belt and freeing his thick cock. He was damn near bursting at the seams, pre-cum coating the head of his dick.

Damian’s hands gripped your hips as he aligned himself in you and began fucking you slowly. You rose on your toes and collapsed onto the cool wooden table. You placed your palms on the table, clawing for some type of reprieve as he thrust so deep into you that you felt him in your cervix. The sound of skin on skin filled the hotel room and your whines carried throughout the room and surely into the hallway. You moaned his name shamelessly as he thrusted deeper — he was fucking you like he has an agenda of reminding you of how good he gave it to you. You were dumb founded by the feeling of his hips against your ass and you began throwing it back on him, much to his approval. He guided you back and forth by the grip he held on your hips, surely to leave the skin sensitive and possibly bruised by the night’s end.

“Papi, fuck!” You yelled out, earning a tighter grip on your hips. “Just like that, Damian, fuck.” You tightened around him and felt your legs going weak, your head growing cloudy. You were going to cum all over him.

His thrusts became sloppier and sloppier as he neared the edge. You knew that he was going to orgasm soon, too. You felt your release instantaneously and you collapsed onto the table, slamming your heels down on the floor. Damian hiked one of your legs up and kept going, fucking you harder and faster until he found his own release inside of you. You let out a string of curse words and he filled you up with his cum, some of it dripped down your standing leg. You gasped for your breath and when you finally felt ready to stand on your own two feet, Damian was there to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder.

“I’m just gettin’ started,” He exclaimed as he carried you to the bedroom to continue his night’s mission.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe #wwe x reader #damian priest #damian priest x y/n #damian priest x female reader #damian priest fanfic #damian priest smut #damian priest x reader #wwe x y/n #wwe x you #diablasuenos*

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lovedrruunk · 1 year ago

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'Girl next door જ⁀➴♡ Prologue

In which Joel plays cupid in order to help a hopeless Ellie win over the cute girl next door.

Series Masterlist!

"Ain't lesbians s'pposed to date girls?"

not proof read :P

[silly awkward Ellie Williams x fem reader!]

"How 'bout the Johnson's daughter? I heard she was um... sapphic... Is that the right term...?"

"God you're so bad at this!"

Ellie rolled her eyes as she continued to play with her food at the dinner table. For the past couple of weeks, Joel had been slowly encouraging Ellie to 'put herself out there,' whatever that meant. And so with the recent news of her two best friends becoming a thing, he'd only gotten more relentless. It's not like she didn't want a girlfriend; it was just complicated and definitely a lot harder than Joel thought it was. Jackson was a small town, and finding someone who clicked with her, who understood her, felt almost impossible.

"I'm just saying Ellie" he continued "She's smart, she's nice, and from what I heard she likes girls. Seems like a good match to me."

Ellie sighed stabbing a piece of broccoli with her fork. "It's not that simple Joel. You can't just put two lesbians in a room together and expect fireworks."

There was a short silence before Ellie looked up to see Joel furrowing his eyebrows looking at the wall behind her seemingly lost.

"Oh my god, Joel!"

"I mean c'mon are ya sure?" He said defensively. "That is how it usually seems to go."

"Ok- well- not all the time! Anyway that's not the point... Besides, she's barely gay. She only kisses girls as a party trick." Ellie murmurs looking back down at her food.

"Off the list." He mutters to himself just as quietly as he continues to eat.

"Not that I am endorsing this but just who else is on this 'list'?"

"Tracy, Mai, Cat, Y/N, Monet-"

"Y/N?"

"Y/N."

"There's no way she's into girls." She says unimpressed.

"You seen her?"

Ellie was silent for a while as she imagined the girl in her head. Yeah no way. 'She's too perfect to be gay.' 'That sounds bad Ellie you can't say that.' You were just so... you. When Joel and Ellie had first arrived in Jackson you had been the first one to introduce her to the others your age. You showed her kindness and helped her get situated into her new life. She would remember how you would often invite her over for dinner with your family, making her feel welcome in a town where she initially felt like an outsider. You'd help her with chores, tell her about the best spots in Jackson as well as who to look out for and who to trust. But after the first couple of months, you two had slowly fallen out. Ellie had Dina and Jesse, and you had your own friends. But, of course, with you being next door neighbors the two of you would still interact from time to time. Ellie’s positive view of you never changed, you were still the sweet girl who had helped her years ago. She remembered the times you’d both sit on her porch, talking about dreams and plans for a future that always seemed so uncertain to her yet you were always so sure of it. All your hopes for the future, the places you wanted to visit, the things you wanted to study, Ellie had wondered if you still had all the same goals. And all this to say; you are not gay. If this was just a way to convince herself that she'd never have a chance or if it was a way to get Joel to back off, she didn't know or care.

"Gone quiet. You fond of her?" He said with an accusing smile.

"Nope." She stands abruptly, handling her plate before walking over to the kitchen to place it in the sink. "Thanks for dinner. I'm going to bed, goodnight."

"Goodnight." He replied watching her as she scurried up the stairs with a knowing smile.

Ellie laid in bed that night, staring at the ceiling. As much as she hated to admit it, Joel was right. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to talk to you more, to get to know you all over again. Maybe there was a chance, however small, that you would feel the same fondness towards her as she felt for you. But that was a problem for tomorrow.

. . .

Thanks 4 reading u all! Notes r appreciated! :3

Next chapter! (chapter 1)

Authors note!!! chat is this shocking? wdym u thought this was an Overwatch blog whaaat wdym idk what that is... FIRST SERIES U GUYS lets hope it doesn't end up discontinued ermmm if it does whoopsy. I am physically unable to post something more than 600 words so each chapter will kinda be one shot style! I was tired of all the serious modern AU smutty ellie fics (as good as they are!) i needed something silly so i had to take matters into my own hands im afraid

#WOO HOO!!#wish this was longer but its only the prologue so!#ellie williams #ellie tlou #joel miller #tlou #tlou2 #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie fluff #series #x reader #free me #the last of us

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writingsfromhome · 4 months ago

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Unspoken Signals

A/N: reaaaallly tried to get this out for v-day. It’s been a while, I’m a bit rusty, but this is a quick fic w Harry and you as coworkers and a casual something else. Hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

—————————————————————-

“Well this is different,” I comment.

Before me sits a dozen children and they’re all very quiet. It’s music to my ears after the last hour.

“I didn’t know kids could even do yoga.”

“You didn’t know kids could stretch?” I raise a brow.

“The meditating part,” Harry clarifies. “I didn’t know they could quiet their minds and their demon mouths.”

I laugh softly and turn back to the kids. A couple are starting to get restless, peeking one eye open or scratching their noses—picking them more like. But it’s nice for the few minutes.

Both Harry and I worked at an art museum that had recently lost some of its funding and had decided to open up revenue streams by introducing “kids fun weekends”. So despite having zero training in early education, staff at the museum found ourselves having to look after children and host workshops from time to time.

So far we’d been volun-told to help with a crafts day, a movie night, wellness day, and an upcoming museum sleepover.

And I was so not being paid enough to deal with hyperactive children.

“Why do kids even need a wellness workshop?” Harry continues to whisper back to me. “They’ve got stressful jobs or something? Bloody put me on one and let me go home.”

“Anyone can experience stress Har,” I roll my eyes. Harry was one of those people who didn’t care about being politically correct when he spoke. Which led to a lot of bickering between us that most of our coworkers had gotten used to.

“The stress of any of these kids does not bloody compare to the stress of an adult.”

“Don’t be such an ageist,” I reply.

“Ageist? What the fuck,” he swears. “Do you just put a word in front of -ist and create a new prejudice?”

I gasp and hold his shoulder, “prejudice? Where did you learn such a large word?”

“Now you’re just being a word-ist,” Harry says smugly.

I snort despite myself, “And you’ve always been a prick.”

“Piss off,” Harry whispers. “This is unfair.”

We stand in silence, forced to do our job of keeping watch over the kids. But as they grow more agitated and so does Harry, I realize I really didn’t want to be here either.

“Well have you seen the new fake-Monet collection?” I ask.

It wasn’t actually fake-Monet. It was a local artist we were hosting in our community gallery that showcased…local artists. The first piece we ever saw hung up looked like a Monet so we took to calling him that.

“No. Not after that first forgery.”

“Wanna ditch this and check it out?”

“Fuck yes.” Harry’s eyes finally draw some life to them.

We leave our two other coworkers to deal with freshly-meditated children and sneak away.

The art museum wasn’t a large building; the ground floor was taken up by the open lobby, offices, the gift shop, and some of the more permanent exhibits. The second floor had revolving galleries and the community gallery sat on the third floor.

“D’you think anyone’s actually going to buy the guy’s fakes?” Harry asks.

“Probably,” I jam the button for the lift. “I saw a couple more pieces and they were beautiful.”

“You find any piece of art beautiful.”

“Well they are! It’s easy to find beauty in a lot of things if you’re not a prick.”

The lift arrives and the doors open; the reflection inside show a tall curly-haired annoyed bloke. Walking in with him is a shorter girl, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not a prick.” He looks down at me. “I just have standards.”

Suddenly in the enclosed space of the lift we’re gravitating towards each other like we tended to do. I smile up at him sweetly and he tsks and pushes me away by my chin; a conversation taking place with just our eyes.

The thing with Harry and me—because it was just a thing we didn’t label, was simple: we liked being around each other (despite being able to get on each other’s nerves).

We kinda just orbited each other and we were comfortable with it; some days he would follow me home and we’d hang out, get dinner, sleep together, and other nights I’d show up at his and we’d fold right into one another.

It was fun, and it felt cool not to label it. It felt very adult, like Harry and I were mature enough to appreciate the other in every aspect without being possessive enough to need to label it. Like somehow we were proving just how secure we were by doing it like this.

“You just like being judgemental,” I say and as the doors open onto the third floor I turn to walk out. “Because you’re an idiot.”

Outside stand at older couple who’ve definitely heard the last bit. I apologize and pray they don’t complain to anyone about the staff.

“Very unprofessional,” Harry goads as he laughs. “Do you harass all the elderly at the museum.”

“Shut up!” I shove him against the wall and he stumbles down.

“Oi!” He calls out as I walk away. “Oi! Help me up!”

“Help yourself!” I finally turn. He’s sprawled on the ground like this was his bedroom—because I’d seen the inside of his bedroom I would know. But he stays for so long I hurry back, not wanting anyone to walk past and get us in trouble for laying in the middle of the hall.

“I knew you’d come,” he smiles sweetly, his large hand in the air ready for me to grip.

“C’mon—“

I see it coming too late and he’s already trapped me in. He pulls me forward and I stumble into him, nearly catching myself on the wall. Nearly. I tumble into him instead.

“Grow up!” I scramble off of him as quick as I could. Because the one unspoken rule in this thing between us was staying nothing but platonic coworkers at work.

And that was the other thing about us—this unlabelled situation we were in. That as casual as we appeared there was a lot of orchestrating going on behind the scenes in order to be this nonchalant.

For example, only touching outside of work, not asking about dates the other went out on the weekend before, like saying you’re funny and where’ve you been when it’s been a while so as not to say I really like you and I want to be around you more and when you’re not around I miss you more than an unlabelled half should. Like getting drunk when I spot him at a club with another girl so I can continue to convince myself I really didn’t care all that much.

It was just Harry. At most we were just friends.

“This is me grown up,” Harry catches up to me. He can sense I’m annoyed and maybe he’s crossed a line so he lingers slightly behind.

I ignore him as I push the glass door into the gallery. This was one of my favourite spaces because of the large windows and views of the garden below planted by friends of the museum.

But mostly I loved it because it was a revolving door of local artists and it reminded me that everyone had a story to tell. And every story was beautiful.

“Don’t cry this time,” Harry whispers to me as he walks down the gallery to the far end.

“It was one time,” I mumble. That I actually cried. Usually I just teared up.

I couldn’t help it though, there was so much meaning and time put into these pieces. So much love and grief and every emotions on the spectrum. And I felt it all.

I decide I’d stop calling the artist fake-Monet because with a few more paintings I began to recognize his own signature style. He paints about personal community and finding it in public spaces—pockets around London.

“Hey look at this one,” Harry says when I’m a few pieces away. I walk over.

It’s unmistakably Hampstead Heath, the park a half hour walk from here and 15 from Harry’s place. It’s where we spent a lazy summer day a month or so ago. We were both free on the Saturday, our calendars opening up. I met Harry at his and we’d trekked through the hazy city to feel the cool breeze of the sturdy trees and the splash of the water. Despite the stickiness, we’d tucked into each other and pretended the shade was enough to keep us cool—enough to be so close. We read our book, took a summer nap, ate our picnic, and chatted about the rest of our lives. Passerbys would see two friends, or maybe two something-mores.

It’s only when the sun slinked down towards the horizon did we pack up. We walked back to his flat, took a shower together. We had dinner with his friends. It had been such a beautiful day I had ached with it because I knew how temporary it was.

But how perfect it had been. It had felt bigger than us.

Harry pointing it out toes that line again; he remembered it too, as something to reference. As something to compare to the beautiful richness of the tapestry before us—lavenders and lilacs, pinks and blues, sage, and dusty hues.

“Beautiful,” I murmur. We’re standing shoulder to shoulder now, I can’t tell who’s leaning on who.

“It…actually is.” Harry says in a hushed voice back. “I’m sorry fake-Monet that I doubted you.”

I look up at him in surprise, Harry rarely changed his mind. “Actually?”

“Yeah.” He looks down at me. “I think I get it.”

The expression in his eyes as he says this, as they fill with meaning, I have to look away. But the painting doesn’t help. It’s too full of my own meaning. Our meaning.

But there was no our.

“Wow.” I straighten up and move closer. “Look at that blending. And the details those are actually people.”

“They’ve all got their own shadow too.” Harry moves closer towards me again. He points it out.

“I’m gonna go look for shadows in the others.” I chirp just so I can get away. So I can keep denying.

A few hours later, the day is giving to nightfall. I badge out with Harry and we walk down the steps towards the iron gates.

“See you tomorrow?” I ask.

“I’m not in tomorrow.” He reminds me.

“Oh yeah your parents are in town?”

“Yep,” he fidgets with his phone and we stand in silence for a beat.

“Well I should-“ I say just as he asks, “Would you want to-“

We pause, awkward laugh. We were never awkward.

“You first,” I urge, wanting to know what he was going to ask.

“No it’s nothing. I should go. Got to clean my flat before my parents see how I live.”

“Don’t forget to hide the rolling papers from your bedside,” I tease. “And the magazines under the bed.”

“Oi I haven’t got magazines under the bed,” he smiles. His dimples make a handsome appearance. “They’re loud and proud on the coffee table now.”

“Except you haven’t got a coffee table.”

“If you know so much about my flat how about you come home with me and help me clean it? You can stay over.”

Come home with me. Casual, so casual.

But I know how calculated it had to be. I’d been there. Somehow I knew this is what he’d been trying to ask in the first place.

“What time are your parents getting in?” I ask.

“They’re early birds. Probably after 8.”

“8? Holy hell.” I swear.

“They want to do breakfast and then take me to visit my grandparents.”

“Right. Yeah well, imagine I’m still not out by the time they show up. That’d be so awkward. And there’s no way in hell I’m getting up before 8.”

His cheeks take on a slight blush. “They’ve…it wouldn’t be the first time they came over to a girl in my bed YN. I’m not 16.”

“I know. But…still awkward.”

“So?”

“I…don’t want them to get the wrong idea. We’ll see each other the day after. You’re working then right?”

My heart squeezes a bit at his crushed look before it’s swapped for happy, for easygoing. “Yep. Can’t get rid of me that quick.”

We part ways, I go mine with a heavy heart.

***

“So,” I check in with Harry at lunch the day he’s back. It had been a hectic day yesterday with a new group of kids and a new workshop to facilitate. Plus someone was quitting after being yelled at and Harry had missed it all so I wanted to update him. “How was your day off.”

“Shite,” he says. We walk a few streets over to a Pret. “Mum and dad wouldn’t stop whinging about my future and about settling down like I’m a fucking balding man in my 50s losing all prospects. I’m only 25!”

“Yeah total bummer having a day off for that,” I comment even though I have a hard time getting my next breath in. I can’t imagine my own parents caring that much about my life to spend a whole day with me talking about it. And what if I had stayed the night and accidentally bumped into them—would they have approved?

Should I even care?

“Then my nan basically told them to piss off but they started filling her head with it and then she’s asking me about any girls I’ve taken on dates lately. Started giving me relationship advice!”

“What was that?” I tease. “Take her on a walk and buy her some flowers? Go star gazing? Movie for 2 quid?”

Harry glances at me and his seriousness throws me off balance a little.

“What?”

He opens his mouth, then shrugs and closes it. “Nothing.”

“Sorry did I offend you?” I try to think of why he might be reacting this way.

“No, she actually did say some pretty old-fashioned shite. But I can take it from her. It’s my parents that drive me nuts.”

“Well I wish you were at work. Want to hear what happened?”

So I change the subject and we talk about what he missed. He’s more subdued today and I don’t read into it. He wasn’t mine to read into, I have to remind myself.

We talk about the gallery sleepover in two weeks, whether we were actually going to come in our PJs. When we get back to work we’re on different floors and I try not to miss him again.

***

“I actually brought mine—the appropriate pair.” My coworker jokes. We’re in the staff kitchen making an afternoon tea. Tonight was the gallery sleepover and I was not looking forward to it. But because I was working it I had the day off tomorrow and at least that was something to look forward to.

“I just brought a ratty tee. I don’t think I’m sleeping anyway.” I say.

“I hate that we got picked for this,” she continues. “I actually don’t even like kids. Why do you think I have none?”

“Well tonight will just be birth-control.”

“Trust me I don’t need it.” She cackles and walks away. My phone buzzes with a text.

Harry: Might be late tonight. cover for me if anyone asks?

Y: ur not even working the day how are u gonna be late?

Harry: got a thing. Just cover pls?

Y: obv

I wonder what was going on with him.

We hadn’t had a lot of opportunities to hang out the last week and work had been too busy to properly catch up. Plus our manager had been putting us on conflicting projects so I really had been missing Harry.

Even though Harry and I were friends there was something about distance and fondness that was proving true lately. And I hated it. So I’d gone on a string of dates this week. Hence my busyness.

I’d gone out on a date a week ago and even though I ended up going back to his place all I wanted to do was text Harry. Ask him if he was up, what he was doing. I’d forced myself to shut my phone so I wouldn’t be tempted.

After we close the doors to the public that evening we begin setting up for the kids’ sleepover. It’s so hectic nobody notices Harry’s late but he slides right in helping me string the lights in our biggest gallery. We work on the projectors next, I yap to him for 10 minutes straight and he barely replies. He’d been quiet since he got here.

And for the next few hours Harry and I entertain and help children have fun, we put on a fancy puppet show loosely based on famous artists—art projections included.

We sneak away to the kitchen after we take our bow for a tea break.

“Wouldn’t happen to have a flask on ya?” Harry sighs as he strains his tea bag.

“God I wish,” I stare into the dark abyss of my earl gray. That performance had really taken it out of me. “Who d’you think’s most likely to have something stashed away?”

“Well,” Harry yawns like he hadn’t slept all week and points to an upper cabinet. “Behind the cleaning stuff.”

“What?!” I gasp. “Seriously?”

“Well last time I saw it was last Christmas. Probably got some alcoholics here. I dunno if the stash is still there.”

“Well this is naughty,” I find a couple travel-sized liquor bottles like the kind you get on planes. I take one so that somebody else can have the delight of the other.

Harry sticks his mug out and I empty half the bottle, doing the same to mine.

“Make sure it’s covered,” he advises when I throw it in the bin. I shake it around until I can’t see it.

“Much better,” I cheers my mug to his. He catches my eye and it feels like we’re co-conspirators again. I pass a smile that’s only half-returned. “So what’s the deal with you?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t look up from his drink.

“I’ve barely seen you all week. And you’re late tonight. And you look haggard as hell.”

He shrugs, “I’ve been helping one of my mates out with moving out of his girlfriend’s. They broke up. He’s a mess so…”

“Oh.” I wasn’t expecting that. “That’s kind of you.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Do I?” I widen my eyes.

“Piss off.”

He cracks with a smile—a full Harry smile and I feel my heart beaming just to soak it in.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” I ask tentatively. I knew he had the day off too.

“Uhm,” cagey Harry returns. “Maybe. I’m not too sure right now.”

“Ah okay.”

We sip in silence that threatens to smother us. I get up as quickly as I can without wasting my precious drink.

“I’m gonna head back out.”

“Alright.”

I head back to the star-lit room where sleeping bags are laid out like mismatched brick throughout the floor. Some kids are cozied within, others sit on top. They’re all engrossed in the “bedtime story” being told by a local author.

It’s sweet, I think. This would become a core memory for a lot of these kids, drinking in the whole night through all their senses. I wish I had more memories like this. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so fragile all the time.

Adults staying overnight got their own gallery blankets and I drag one over to the far end, enough for any kid who needed assistance could find me but far away that I could be on my phone and not distract them.

Some time later another body joins me with his own blanket.

“Sorry,” Harry says as he sits.

“For what?” I play pretend. Just like these kids were doing tonight. What could you possibly be saying sorry for? What could I possibly feel entitled to you for? We’re just friends.

“For being weird earlier. I…well I have to tell you something and I’m being weird instead.”

My heart begins to thump in my chest.

“Tell me what?”

“So I’ve um…I’ve got a-“ Harry clears his throat. I glance up at him and he’s looking out towards the ceiling. “I have a girlfriend. I know we…we’re not…”

“Jeez Har,” even though ever atom inside of me is keeling over with something I can’t exactly examine yet, I play the joker. The friend. “If this is you telling me you’re getting serious with someone that’s all you have to say.”

“Really?” He turns to me and on the shiny hardwood floor so does half his body. I ignore how his knees feel pressing into mine. “You’re…okay?”

His voice is anything but casual.

“Yeah! It’s not like we’re a thing.”

Even still, I can’t say it. I die a little more.

“Yeah well I wasn’t expecting it. She’s the daughter of someone my dad knows? Pretty sure they orchestrated it but we went on a couple dates and then she asked…well she wanted to be exclusive I…”

“Well that’s good. For you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“Thank god,” the air whooshes out of his lungs.

“I feel like I should be offended. You thought I was going to be mad or something?”

“No not mad…” he trails off. I look at his reaction and find him looking at me already. Even though it’s dark I can still see his eyes and they feel like they’re reading everything on my face. In a hushed tone he repeats himself, “not mad.”

I shrug, biting my lip hard to feel something other than the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. Emotions I never thought would surface this strongly.

“I’m good. Actually I’m not good. I think that bottle we found was rubbish I’ve got to go toilet—“ I use his knee to pull myself up. “Save my spot.”

I walk away without sparing a glance back because my act is crumbling. I’m crumbling. And I don’t understand it.

If you asked me two weeks ago I would have gone on how fun it was to be with Harry but how the idea of being with him seriously would be weird. Would throw off our balance. But now I want to puke my guts in the toilet at the idea of having to let him go. Because he’s the one who moved on.

And as hard as I try tears still escape my lashline and make trails down my cheeks as I study myself in the brightly lit mirror. How could I be mad when we were just casual? How could I hate him if all he did was look for something serious. Someone serious.

Suddenly what had felt fun and mature feels childish and disposable.

I was disposable fun.

“Get it the fuck together,” I tell myself. “You’ve got nothing to cry over. You could get yourself a boyfriend too. He’s not your soulmate or something jeez.”

I blow my nose and give myself another pep talk before exiting the toilets back to where Harry waits for me.

“You alright?” He asks. A loaded question.

“Yeah. Regret doing this for the whole night though.”

“You could sleep. I’ll take first shift.”

“I’ll get in trouble.”

“Who gives a shit,” Harry tugs me so that I fall against his shoulder and it’s the worst thing in the world.

I don’t curl my arm through his like I might’ve before. Or cozy into his chest. I stay there like a stiff robot until sleep takes me. Even then it’s not long enough.

—1 month later—

I’m heading home after an uneventful day, ready to sink into bed and turn my brain off. These days my brain talked too much and I really wish there was an on/off switch for it.

“Um hiya?” A soft voice says as I exit the turnstile in the lobby. I turn towards the voice and it belongs to a sweet looking girl about my age with harsh features softened by a layered bob. On me it would look ridiculous but she looks like she was born to rock the style she was in.

“Hi,” the rule of thumb was even though you were clocked out if you exited from the lobby in work clothes and somebody stopped you, you had to help them. I’d forgotten to tuck my badge away today damnit.

“I’m waiting for someone? He hasn’t been answering his texts I was just wondering if-“

“You could ask reception?” I point to the desk behind her. “They can page who you need.”

“They weren’t really helpful,” she shrugs. “I’m assuming you work with him? Harry?”

It’s the last name I’m expecting from her lips. I nearly stumble back trying to take her in again with the new knowledge of who she might be.

“H-Harry?”

I’d heard her the first time. I’m just trying to grasp at a second to collect myself.

This must be his girlfriend. The one who wanted to be exclusive. And I hated that I’d liked her in our two minute interaction.

He hadn’t spoken much about her since he told me a month ago but since half of our relationship before her was being intimate, we barely talked and when we did it was mostly just work and the relationship felt really fragile and rough.

I could see what Harry saw in her—she was attractive. And not pushy; she let Joey at reception push her around which was hard to do. And she was meeting Harry here, at work. It must be getting serious.

All these thoughts race through my mind in a millisecond.

“Oh! Harry yeah,” I nod when she confirms. “Of course I know him. I think he was in a meeting might be why…I can go back in and check if you-“

“Oh no! Sorry I’m not trying to be a bother. You’re probably going home I just wanted to make sure he was still in?”

“Yeah! Yeah he’s in. I’ll tell Joey—reception, to page him if he’s out. He’s nicer than he seems.”

“That’d be perf,” she beams. I die a little more, unsure why I was helping her this much. Unsure why it bothered me this much.

Ever since Harry had ended the thing we didn’t have, my life had felt haunted. The ghosts of every emotion I killed in the moments we’d been together began to surface and they were torture. Biggest of all was regret and shame. Regret over what could have been if I’d just admitted how deeply I felt months ago. Shame because I wasn’t supposed to feel this way for Harry. Because he obviously didn’t feel the same way, he never would, and it would be embarrassing to ever admit it.

Our actual relationship had gone like this after that night—avoidance -> awkward small talk -> light bantering -> finally, being able to talk semi-normally again.

We stopped hanging out outside of work however, so every day I got to see him was a day I was excited to go into work. My friends told me I had to do something about it—confess and see what he says, or move on.

And I’d tried to move on. But every guy I tried to date didn’t hold a candle to the flame that warmed my heart; to the idiot I had the misfortune of falling for after we ended things.

Or maybe I was just the idiot.

And here I was self-sabotaging by helping his girlfriend. There was definitely something wrong with me.

“Elsie!”

Both our heads turn to the voice.

“There he is,” I say but she’s already squeezing my arm and walking towards him. Harry doesn’t realize I’m standing there and I watch him smile at her in a way that sends a spike to my heart. Then he notices me.

“Oh YN,” his eyelids flutter a few times too many. “Uh-“

“YN god sorry I didn’t even get your name,” Elsie turns back to me. “YN was helping me.”

“Yeah? Thanks,” Harry looks visibly relieved and flashes me a grin. I raise my brows and smile back.

Home. I had to get home.

“Well I figured Har already had a hard time finding a girlfriend, I didn’t want him to lose her so quickly. This isn’t even a very big place.”

Harry’s expression is unreadable but Elsie laughs.

“Very funny,” Harry responds.

“I know.” I gear myself up to say bye. “Well I’ll see you tomorrow, let you get to wherever you’re going. It was nice-“

“Well we’re just hanging out with some friends,” Elsie says.

“YN knows a few of them,” Harry says. I watch his eyes bug a little as he realizes he’s stepped onto a minefield and watch him back away smoothly. “Some of the younger crew go out for drinks sometimes.”

“Ah,” Elsie says as Harry wraps his arm around her shoulder from behind. He was laying it on thick but I don’t think Elsie noticed his hiccup. “Well why doesn’t she come!? YN you should join us! One more friend!”

“Oh I don’t think she wants to-“

“I was honestly just gonna go ho-“

I stop talking the same time Harry does.

“No you should!” Elsie says. “Don’t listen to Harry.”

I catch his eye and they’re saying please don’t.

Don’t tell me what to do, mine say.

Don’t be stubborn.

Challenge accepted.

“Ok! Maybe one drink.” I say as Harry huffs. It felt dangerous, having a non-verbal conversation in front of his girlfriend.

I was an idiot, I confirm. An idiot making bad decisions.

“Yay! Let’s go.” Elsie takes Harry’s hand and drags him to the front door. I nearly laugh at his face as he’s dragged past me—he was mad.

And it comes out a couple hours later. By then I’d had more than a single drink, have befriended most of the people I don’t know at the table and have caught up with those I do know. Harry had been mostly attached by the hip to Elsie and I tried not to stare daggers at it.

They’re an interesting couple, you can tell Harry is distracted most of the night and she tries to accommodate by being around and talking to him. He leaves a hand on her at all times but she doesn’t wrap herself around him the way I used to. Maybe she wasn’t touchy.

Maybe I was being obsessive.

So I distract myself with everyone, with drink, with a particularly cute boy who introduced himself as Elsie’s uni friend. Who happened to be brother’s with Harry’s old flatmate. Small worlds.

“YN,” Harry tugs my sleeve as Grant and I talk—if you can call heavy flirting just talking.

“What?!” I snap after the tugging gets aggressive.

“I need to talk,” He points to himself and then me, “to you.”

I could see he was well past tipsy. It wasn’t often Harry drank to this point so I follow him to find out what was going on.

I follow him to a patio table that had just been vacated, empty glasses littering the surface. An untouched shot sits in the middle. The tableau tells a story—art was everywhere.

“What?” I ask.

“What’re you doing?”

“What am I?” I laugh. “What are you doing? I think you’ve had a few drinks too many mate.”

“You’ve got drinks,” he replies.

“Yeah…” I look back at the half finished drink I left at the bar. “I did have more than I thought. I feel like I drink a lot more when there’s a lot of people around? Otherwise I’m just nursing my drink-“

“Why did you decide to come out tonight? When you’ve met my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

“When I’ve…what?! Your girlfriend invited me no thanks to you.”

“Yeah but you never come out anymore. And suddenly you want to come out when Elsie asks?”

“What d’you mean I never come out anymore?”

Harry sighs. “You stopped hanging out.”

“Yeah because you got a girlfriend? You stopped inviting me out!”

“No what? No! You’re always…it’s an open invitation I don’t need to specifically invite you out I-“

“So why did you invite me specifically before?” I call him out, feeling more sober than I was a few minutes ago. “You stopped inviting me. We stopped hanging out. And so I stopped inviting you when I went out cuz I thought you had a girl and I didn’t want to make it complicated I-“

My voice catches on an unfiltered emotion and I want to die. I feel heat creep up my cheeks as I try to swallow it down and hope Harry doesn’t notice. Fuck!

“Anyway your girlfriend invited me so I came! It’s not a big deal.”

“I didn’t…” Harry scratches his nose and looks uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to stop. I…it was complicated and I-“

“It’s fine. Whatever Har.”

“It’s not,” his brows come together. “Obviously s’not. I’m sorry? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel…”

I almost laugh at what he’s said and how it sounds: I didn’t mean to make you feel. Well, neither did I.

“Yeah whatever. I’m not mad about it.”

“Sorry.” He says instead.

“Thanks,” I clear my throat for good measure, not wanting to be too emotional. I want to tell him I missed him but I don’t think it would be appropriate.

“I thought-“ he breaks off with a laugh. “Nevermind.”

“What?” I push him lightly. “You know I hate when people don’t finish their thought. It’s going to drive me crazy—what?”

“No this one you won’t like. Nevermind.”

“Tell meee,” I poke his shoulder until he slaps my hand away.

“Stop that! I hate when you do that!”

“I know.” I say smugly. “So?”

“It’s stupid. I thought you came here to annoy me or something. And then you’re practically sitting in Grant’s lap…”

He’s right. I wouldn’t like it.

“Hold on,” I bring my hand down on the table. “You thought I was flirting with Grant to annoy you? Why would I-what!?”

“Like I said,” he doesn’t make eye contact. “It was stupid. Nevermind!”

“No it’s not nevermind. You don’t drive what decisions I make in my love life.” Lie. “Got that?”

“Jeez you can’t get angry after forcing me to say!”

“I can!”

“Can you quit bitching I don’t have time for this.”

“I’ll be as big of a bitch as I want to be.” I cross my arms.

“Unfortunately, I know.”

“That’s a completely stupid thought to have-“

“Surely not all your thoughts are winners. That’s why you don’t say all of them.” Harry says, then laughs. “Actually you do. And I always have the displeasure of hearing all of them.”

My jaw drops. “It’s like you’re purposely saying the stupidest shit right now. Like you want to be a prick.”

“C’mon you little shite,” Harry tugs my arm until they uncross. “I’m joking, remember jokes?”

I want to say something snippy, tell him off, but as my arms fall away his hand slides down until the tips of our fingers brush. It makes me feel touch-starved, like I’d been isolated in the woods for the last two months growing crazy for human touch.

Harry senses the shift and his smile dies down, his throat bobbing up and down.

How was it that Harry, out of every man I’ve ever met and continue to meet, has this effect on me? How can one touch quiet my mind so completely while pushing my heart into overdrive.

Why, I want to ask the universe. Why was it this man in front of me that made me feel so intensely?

“YN,” he says.

I should pull away. I should because his fingers creep further now pressing into my palm. I want them to slide higher until they’re tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. I wanted him closer.

“I missed you,” it comes stumbling out. And the shock of it pulls me out of whatever trance I just found myself in.

I pull my hand away and Harry straightens up, his gaze clearing too.

“Sorry.” My heart is in my throat now. “Sorry. I didn’t—that was inappropriate. I’m gonna go back now…”

“Wait,” he calls out as I head back to Grant knowing my heart wasn’t in it anymore. That I was going home.

“Hm?” I try to blink away the shame as I turn back towards him.

“D-do you…regret anything?”

I raise a brow and he flushes. I was making this torture for both of us but I wanted him to ask.

Stupidly, I wanted him to know.

“Between us. I know we never…we’re just friends. But did you ever regret…us?”

I shake my head. “No. No. Never. It was some of the best times.”

It’s like I’ve said the wrong thing. His face falls and I decide I had to go. Had to. I was afraid what else might be spilled out between us.

I don’t even remember what I tell Grant, just that I grab any of my belongings that I can spot, ask him to throw his number into my phone, and hightail it out. And I nearly make it to the tube when a warm hand grips my arm.

“Get off—oh!” I nearly whack Harry with my purse but he ducks anyway. “What the fuck Har!?”

“Sorry. Sorry sorry!” He lets me go and I miss his warmth. “I didn’t realize!”

“Yeah! You can’t just grab a woman at night like that!”

“Obviously! I wasn’t thinking! I was just trying to get to you-“

“Why?”

“Bloody hell you know why YN!”

I stare at him. His face doesn’t hide a single thought, a single emotion. It’s vulnerable, and terrifying.

“Don’t take the piss.” He grabs my arms and gives me a shake. “You know. You know.”

“I-don’t do this. Har, you have a girlfriend. I don’t want to be that girl ok?”

“Why?”

“Why? Because that’s awful and-“

“No! Why didn’t you say anything when we were together? Any time we were together? When I told you I had a girlfriend? Why were you always so…cool?”

“Me? Cool?” I laugh. “There’s nothing cool about me Har.”

“Well you’re hard to fucking read then! I dunno! I was always leaving hints and signals that I actually liked you. And you always ignored them!”

“Hints? Signals?” I gape. “When the—what the hell do you call hints?!”

“I…I wanted you to meet my fucking parents for god’s sake. Did you really never-“

“If I’m hard to read so are you mate,” I lean against the closest thing—a mailbox. My legs are jelly. “Was that when you vaguely suggested I wake up in your bed while your parents were down?!”

“Fine well I bought you chocolates that one time, I’ve even got some of your tees in my room! I-I tried to plan romantic dates for us—Hampstead! I tried to tell you-“

“What?” I’m not asking him anything. I’m just questioning everything; everything I avoided and played off had meaning. Of course it did. Everything had meaning, but I’d just thrown our dictionary out the window so it would mean nothing. Because I was afraid.

“Really?!” Harry sighs. He crouches down and runs his hands through his hair. “Am I that bad? I thought I was making it so clear but you always brushed it off. I felt like an idiot for falling for you when it was just s’pose to be casual. I thought I was being a bloody simp.”

I inch down to where he crouches.

“You fell for me?” I whisper.

When he looks at me it’s with eyes that look like broken seaglass. With a mouth curved down so low that I want to kiss into a smile. Into a laugh.

He cups my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. I give in to the sigh and his lips lift ever so slightly.

“How could I not?”

“I thought I drove you crazy?” I grasp his hand. “I thought I was just a fun distraction I-“

“I never said the second part.” He interrupts.

“You sure?”

“You were reading the wrong hints.”

I laugh and so does he. It almost turns into tears.

He stands and extends a hand that I take, his warm palm covering mine.

“Now’s when you return the confession,” he says without letting go. “So?”

“What? I’m not hiding any confessions!”

“Liar,” he tugs me close. “Your heart’s racing.”

“That’s from getting up so quickly.”

“You’re full of shite.”

We’re smiling so hard I’m sure we look like crazy people on the street.

But he had a girlfriend. Oh god. A sweet girl I’d just met today.

His expression grows confused as mine must turn to worry. I untangle myself.

“Harry…”

“I know.” He finally clues in.

“We can’t-“

“I know.”

We stare at each other for a heartbeat.

“I’m gonna go. Or else…”

“Just like that?” He asks.

“How else is it supposed to be?” I demand. “We can’t do this Har. And please…if you like her…respect her at all—don’t break up with her just to be with me. I wouldn’t be able to stomach it.”

“Then I’m just lying to her.”

“I…” I shrug. “I dunno. I just don’t want to be the reason for her heartbreak okay?”

“You’re being a sensitive snowflake. Breaking up with her is the right thi-“

“You can’t call people snowflakes-

“I can if that’s what they’re being-“

“I’m going home.” I tell him. It’s the last thing I want to do.

He opens his mouth with whatever quick retort he always had. But he must think twice about it. His face draws into a frown.

“Sort yourself out.” I instruct him. “Just sort it out. And then one day soon we can see…y’know.”

I half turn away, but can’t bear to leave without touching him one last time. Who knows when the next time will be. I flit to him so I can press my lips against the warmth of his cheek, so intoxicating. Like an addict only sniffing the alcohol in their cup. And when I feel his body loosening, about to hold my own, I flit away and rush into the tube without a glance back.

I don’t register anything on the ride home. I’m too shocked to even cry about it.

I wash the day away, the scent of him and the look on his face when he realizes we each had been trying to hold out own glaring neon signs to each other.

It’s late when there’s a knock on my door. I figure it’s my roommate forgetting her keys, and since I’d been laying on my bed in my towel after my shower too numb to sort myself out I end up opening the door basically naked.

It’s Harry.

His eyes roam over my terryclothed figure with a smile.

“What—what are you doing here!?” I grab the edge of my towel to keep it in place.

“Were you expecting someone else?” He asks.

“No-stop!” I push my hand into his chest as he crosses through the doorway. “Why are you here?”

His eyebrows draw together, hurt. “I…I didn’t think I was that drunk—we did just admit our feelings to each other a few hours ago right?”

“Yes but!” I put my hand down because his heart is beating fast under my hand and I don’t want to feel it a second longer. “You were also supposed to sort yourself out and-“

“Can you just let me in?”

I stare at him.

He stares back.

“Fine!” I give up and move aside. He closes the door behind him. That’s when I notice his hands. “What’s that?”

“For you.” He holds a bouquet up. “I know they’re shitty. I couldn’t find much at this time of night-“

“No hold on, I don’t understand.”

“We’ve wasted enough time throwing out shitty hints that apparently neither of us could read. We should never be detectives.”

I stay still, waiting for an explanation. Any bloody explanation as to why he’s here and not with his girlfriend!

“I went back to Elise. She knew something was wrong right away. I tried to deny it. She asked if something was going on between us-“

“God seriously Har! I said not to-“

“Did you want me to go back and pretend to be in love with her when I just had a fucking bomb go off in my life!? I know you don’t want to be that girl YN but I don’t want to be that shitty guy who stays with someone because he feels bad! What does that make me?”

I can picture Elise’s face in my mind. Oh god.

“She wasn’t mad-“

“You wish.” I snort.

“No she wasn’t. Well she was at first because she thought I was with you and her at the same time. I explained. I apologized. She got it. She…turns out she was still hung up over her ex. That she really liked me but she was mostly doing it to get her parents off her back. Because they never like who she dates. Which wasn’t a great thing to hear but…I’m pretty sure I saw her catching a cab as I was leaving. Maybe she went back to her ex.”

I’m dumbfounded with his retelling of what happened after I’d left.

“She’s okay. Are we?” He asks when I don’t reply.

The bouquet looks rough, like it was maybe clutched too hard and the flowers are nearing the end of their life. I imagine Harry rifling through a flower stand to find something for me. Coming here because he couldn’t wait.

I was kidding myself. I couldn’t wait either.

“Okay.”

“Okay??” He asks but he’s closing the distance because he’s reading me. He already knows me.

“Fine.” I say as he loops his arms around my waist. I stretch my arms up around his shoulders, clasping them at his neck. Something throbs deep in my chest. I missed him.

“I missed you,” he says. Always reading my mind.

“I didn’t know I could.” I say to him. His eyes are filled with a raw emotion that mirrors whatever’s aching in my chest.

“You’re like something from the gallery,” he cups my face. “Beautiful and original, breathtaking and you pass by it every opportunity you get just to get another glimpse. It makes you realize what you’ve been missing your whole life.”

“Aw Har,” my voice wobbles. If this was Harry when he was direct and not giving shitty hints I don’t know how I was going to survive us.

“What?” He whispers.

“You’ve got a soft side. You’re not actually a prick.”

His dimples make an appearance as he smiles. “I told you. I’ve just got standards don’t I.”

I wanted all of him—god how did I fool myself this whole time. I wanted all of him. He was just so lovely. “I think you’re going to ruin me,” I whisper back. His grin disappears and he tugs me ever closer.

“You’ve already ruined me.” He says. “I can’t look at any piece of art without thinking of you. I can’t go a day without wondering about you.”

“Is that healthy?” I murmur. My heart drums.

“Who the fuck cares about healthy?” He laughs.

We gaze at each other, the blood rushes through my body at high speeds.

“Mutual ruin?” I ask.

He responds with a kiss so passionate that I forget how to breath. I’m sure my towel was being held up by our bodies at this point.

“Mutual ruin. Or you can just ruin me.” His lips brush against my ear, feather down my neck. “I’m madly in love with you YN. There’s nobody but you.”

I don’t know whether to laugh from giddiness or cry from how my heart overflows.

“Har, I think I get the hint.” I say instead. He laughs.

“Fucking finally.”

💟💟💟💟

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #writingsfromhome #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #fic #harry styles one shot

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gublernatural · 4 months ago

Note

for pop star!reader, bringing him to the grammys perchance? i think it would be silly <3

i love this so im skipping ahead to post-situationship into full blown relationship stage with them <3 my fave duo (also reader is def inspired by my girl t swizzle at award shows and im not sorry about it.)

"you're sure?" you asked one more time, just before the car doors were to open. spencer, whose face was almost as red as the dress you were wearing, sent you an eager nod.

he was torn; stuck between being excited to be by your side, but terrified to be in such a public space. there were days where he was still in awe that he has been able to meet, fall in love with, and now date such a strong, hard-working lady, but days like today he is reminded how much the whole world has come to love his lover.

"then, let's go," you smiled at him, ushering him to step out of the car. he obliged, then reached his hand towards you, helping you out. "thank you," you smiled at him, quickly, and then guided him to the building’s entrance. you waved at your supporters as you walked, still marveling at the impact you’ve been able to make.

you two ended up being split, spencer dragged away to your designated table and you to the red carpet. you took photos and completed interviews as quickly as you could without being impolite. you couldn’t help but feel like you were longing to be back with spencer. despite all of the fun you were able to have, everything just felt better when he was around.

“there you are,” you smiled as you finally made your way to your seat. “how was the carpet?” he asked, sliding your chair out for you. you shrugged in response, turning your attention to the first performer to take the stage.

spencer spent most of the show watching you with starstruck eyes. it was evident, even to those watching from home, how deeply in love spencer truly was with you. there was a literal sparkle in eye as you danced along to each performer, completely and totally enjoying yourself. this was the happiest you'd been in a while. you felt pretty, were at a celebration, and had your favorite person in the world by your side. spencer being in a fancy suit that matched your dress and having his hair professionally done had nothing to do with it, of course.

"this was is yours, right?" spencer whispered into your ear as his arm slipped around your waist. he held you close in anticipation as they introduced your category: best new artist.

this was the biggest moment of your career thus far. sure, awards weren't everything to you, but being recognized for the work you'd put out in somewhere as important as the grammy's would feel so good. you nodded, anxiously, trying to use spencer's proximity to ground you. you hoped the camera that cut to you while you were being named amongst your competitors could see the nerves that were coursing through your veins.

"and the winner is," victoria monet, last year's winner, announced. the world around you turn to static as your name was called into the mic. spencer was up before you were, cheering. tears welled in your eyes, overcome with pride and gratefulness. you hugged spencer and your producer, before heading up to the stage.

"um," you hesitated into the mic after hugging victoria, "i did not think i was going to win this," you laughed. the crowd laughed as well. beyonce was laughing at you. taylor swift was laughing at you. spencer reid was laughing at you. this was the best moment of your life.

"everyone in this category is so amazing and i wish we could split this award eight different ways. thank you to anyone and everyone who has listened to my music and supported me so far. i would not be here if it weren't for you." the first tear slipped from your face and you quickly brought your empty tear up to wipe it.

"thank you to everyone who inspired me and my music, and anyone who laid a hand in creating it with me. my mind is so blank and i can't remember all of your names," everyone laughed again. "and thank you to those i love," your eyes slipped to your table in the crowd. the camera cut to spencer, who had the biggest smile on his face anyone had ever seen. "i wouldn't be here without you guys. thank you and i cannot wait to make more music for you." you ended with a gracious wave to the crowd and cameras, before dashing back to your table.

you threw yourself in spencer's arms again. his cheek smushed against your shoulder as he mumbled, "i'm so proud of you!" you didn't answer, but he felt your smile get impossibly wider against him. after your brief moment of affection, you settled back into his side, excited to see sabrina carpenter's performance.

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s0me-rand0m-d0rk · 1 year ago

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Ok. So, you know that TV show Ghost Adventures? Let's make it Danny phantom.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker are college age. Danny's studying astrophysics and astronomy. Tucker's studying engineering. And Sam's double majoring in occult studies and parapsychology. They're not in Amity Park, I don't know where they'd be but it would probably be a really haunted city/town. They need some extra money so they start a paranormal investigation group kinda like what Ghost Adventures is, but local. They post their findings on YouTube. They basically blow up overnight and get monetized after they get a few videos out there.

Danny is the "medium". (He's not a medium. He just has ghost powers.)

Tucker's the tech specialist.

Sam's the occult specialist.

But instead of provoking the ghosts and being rowdy and screaming all the time (don't get me wrong, the show is funny and I do enjoy watching it, but we all know they're not always respectful of the spirits.), they're actually trying to solve the problem the ghost is posing. They try to compromise with them and help them pass on.

Sam sends Danny into creepy basements by himself just like Zak does with Aaron. She also pulls the most obscure and random occult facts out of her ass. One time, she told the audience that it was possible to exorcise ghosts using music. She proceeded to play Riptide on a ukulele for the spirit of a pre-teen girl and it worked. After the episode is over, people go to look it up, and low and behold, there it is.

Tucker makes progressively more insane and less believable gadgets to contact and interact with ghosts. Their audience tunes in every week wonder what he'll have next. The last episode, it was some sort of ghostly etch-a-sketch. AND THE GHOSTS ACTUALLY USED IT. Did one of them draw a dick on it like a smart ass? Probably.

Sometimes Danny has full on conversations with no one on camera. He waves when there's no one else in the room. He scolded a poltergeist that tried to push him down the stairs. He consistently says that most ghosts just need a hug. Dark spirit? Hug it. Violent poltergeist? They need a hug. Ghostly child? HUG. The audience notices his eyes glowing in the dark. Is it special effects? No one knows.

No one can tell if they're serious or not. They had a literal gun that shoots ghosts. They play music for ghosts. They have ghostly etch-a-sketches. Unless you're from Amity Park, there's no way you're believing that.

But, people who have their properties investigated often say that the activity stops or de-intensifies or changes all together. People may have to change things, like hanging up a photo of the deceased, holding a memorial service, or stopping/changing renovations. But they make the ghost happy or even pass on. That way they stop throwing the good china out of the cabinets.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #i guess it could kinda be like BuzzFeed unsolved too.#i dont watch it tho #the yt channel is called ghostly adventures #yes. it was 100% on purpose #they think they're hilarious

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jamdoughnutmagician · 2 months ago

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Candy Shop Order for @penguinsandpringleheads - Hellfire Cinnamon Candy, Sour Lemon Drops, Strawberry Sherbet, 17

Eddie Munson x Female Reader, Smut, Seeing the love marks they left on their partner later and getting turned on all over again remember how it got there in the first place

Requests Now Closed

Word Count:714

*divider by @sweetmelodygraphics

It’s the gentle golden streams of an early Sunday morning that rouse Eddie from his slumber. The warm light filtering through the crack in his curtains, casting everything in his room in honey-coated gleam. Things are settled and comfortable and as his deep brown eyes adjust to the light he can’t help but let a content smile tug at the corners of his lips when he sees you snuggled into the close hold of his arms.

The night brings you together, crashing on his bed in a molten hot clash of desperate kisses and eager hands quickly tearing off each other's clothes. His lips are quickly kissing against every little bit of skin that gets exposed as he slips your clothes from your body. Kisses that will hopefully bloom into bruising reminders of his affections.

Eddie falls into you, sliding himself home into the welcoming heat between your legs for the first time tonight, and with a low shuddering moan escaping from his kiss-bitten lips, he thinks to himself how he could never in his wildest imagination dream of being anywhere but right here for the rest of his life.

But as the light breaks, the morning brings a new perspective on the previous night’s escapades, a new light shed on your shared time together.

His eyes liners over the purplish bruises littering your skin, the concentration of them tucked into the crook of your neck and trailing across your collarbones and the curve of your breasts like an artwork of his own personal creation. He leans his head down to kiss his lips against the bruises, softer this time, his pink lips careful in their affections against the sensitive skin, taking time to kiss every single one.

It’s at this show of affection that you begin to stir in his arms.

“Didn’t you get enough of me last night, you vampire?” you chuckle lightly.

“You know me, I never miss out on an opportunity to kiss my girl.” he says, his voice still husky with the remnants of sleep. “Besides, I was just appreciating my masterpiece, I think it’s my best work yet.” he says as he urges his hips to rut against your thigh, showing you exactly the effect of seeing his mark on your skin has on him. He couldn’t help it, he was a simple man, and seeing your precious skin all marked up because of him had his cock stirring with need. All because you were proudly wearing his affections on your skin like a tattoo.

“I don’t think Monet was this hard when he was painting water lilies.” you snark, reaching your hand down between your bodies to palm over his increasingly hardening cock.

“I just think you don’t know modern art when you see it, sugar.” Eddie snarks back all while stifling a slight whimper when you decide to take his cock in your hand, swiping your thumb through the bead of precum pearling at his tip.

His brown eyes watch your careful movements, watching as you bring your hand up to your lips to let a string of spit fall into your palm before returning to his cock, slicking him up with an effortlessly languid glide of your fist.

Stroking over him, letting your delicate fingers coast over the pulsing vein that runs the length of his shaft. Then you twist your fist on an upstroke, lightly applying pressure with a squeeze of his ruddy tip in a way that has Eddie’s stomach crumpling with a wave of pleasure.

It’s embarrassing really, about how little it takes for him to be so completely and utterly under your spell and at your mercy, how just the simplicity of you touching him like this has him a hair’s breadth away from falling apart.

“Baby, please, you’re killing me here..” he shudders with a moan, his dark curls sticking to his sweat-slick forehead.

“Oh, Teddy, don’t think I’m going to let you off that easily…” you purr with a lustful darkness in your eyes. “We’ve got nowhere to be today, and I’m not leaving this bed until I’ve returned the favour for the numerous orgasms you pulled from me last night.”

“..But I made you come, like, five times last night babe..” he stutters.

@mrsjellymunson @abitchyouhate @sidereustales @rebelfell @seatnights @myherometalhead @28bohemianmoons @ali-r3n

“Then we better get started.”

#Sorry if this is bad my brain WOULD NOT co-operate with me today #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x female reader #Eddie Munson x reader smut #Eddie Munson x female reader smut #claudia's candy shop requests

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sweetbillwriting · 3 months ago

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Way Out of Line

TWELVE

Character: Keith Toshko from Barbarian (2022) played by Bill Skarsgård.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

It was liberating to be with Keith in Paris. We could finally act like a couple, and the Frenchmen didn't even react twice at our age difference. We could just be. Maybe me and Ludwig had looked like the perfect couple, but Keith and I were the perfect couple. Everything he did made my cheeks warm and my heart jump like a fluffy bunny among daisy flowers. He played around with me like a kid, made out with me like a teenager, but also gave me romantic moments like the perfect gentleman. That he could afford to give me everything wasn't so bad either. When I told him I had missed the tour of Notre Dame, he fixed us a private one. When I was tired of all the taxi rides, he rented a motorcycle (why hadn't he told me he had a license? Just knowing he had a license made him sexier, and seeing him on it made my loins burn like in a 1970s erotic novel). When I admired a girl’s Chanel beret, he got me the same one. He himself seemed to have the same t-shirt, just in different colors, and a pair of sunglasses with a lightly scoffed corner. He didn't look rich, but he spent his money on me like he was.

I wore a short yellow gingham-patterned dress our last Thursday in Paris and jumped out of our taxi with a giggle. Keith ran after me, giving my bum a light spank for trying to run away from him. My class stood by the entrance door to their hotel, and I had come to join them to go to Claude Monet’s gardens and hoped Keith could come with us, or at least buy himself a seat on the bus that would take us there. I felt how they all looked at us curiously. Keith had his hand on my waist while I stood in front of the professors and guide, asking them with a big smile if my boyfriend could come along on the bus and that he would pay for everything by himself. I said it with a big smile and turned to him with a giggle. He gave me a little smirk and then looked at the professors that looked up at him.

“Boyfriend?” Asked the female professor. I had always thought of her as a woman in her early fifties but wondered now if she was younger and she could feel that Keith was around her own age.

“Boyfriend. Keith Toshko,” said Keith and put his big hand out for her to shake. She shook it doubtfully and gave her male colleague a look. He was probably Keith's age. He had always joked with me, but I had always seen him as just a silly older man, until now when I realized he and Keith could have gone to school together.

“Sure… It shouldn't be a problem,” he said while shaking Keith's hand. I giggled again and hugged Keith around his waist. I interrupted him in the middle of his thank you to say my own loud, girly thank you.

I jumped around like a schoolgirl while we walked up to Farah. I didn't think about who was watching us or what others were thinking. I just thought about having Keith close and spending time with him in the French sun.

“Hey,” said Farah, who gave us a little nod. She had gone to the hotel earlier to see some of our other friends that now stood by her side and looked curiously at Keith.

“Hey!” I said brightly and took Keith's hand in mine. With the same bright smile on my lips, I introduced him to my friends. Their facial expressions were mixed, but most of them seemed amused by my behavior, especially when Keith and I talked softly to each other and I did that sweet girly voice he liked and looked at him with childish pouting lips every time he said something I didn't like. We were probably quite amusing to look at because others had also turned their heads to where we stood and more or less baby talked to each other. Our hands were on each other constantly, even when the professors talked, and for a moment I could see the male professor’s disapproving look. When he talked, I stood on my toes playing with the hair in the nap of Keith's neck while his long fingers played with my shiny locks. I had that little pout on my lips because he had told me to listen to the professor instead of just watching him. We were that annoying couple, but that sexy annoying couple.

“You're so fucking extra…” teased Farah in the line to the bus. Keith walked a bit behind me, checking his phone so he wasn't a part of the conversation.

“What?” I said with a giggle and fixed my white headband.

“Do you do it to provoke?” She smirked at me and looked down at our feet while we walked slow steps to the bus door.

“What do you mean?” I smiled as broad as before. I knew she was talking about me and Keith, and to be honest, I wanted to provoke people a little. Even if Keith looked really good for his age, he looked quite a bit older than me. It was fun to play around with and make people wonder where this boyfriend came from.

“Ludwig stared his eyes out on you. He really likes you!” She whispered so no one else would hear.

“Ludwig? Come on! We made out a couple of times; that's it!” I whispered back. We were finally by the door, and I could feel Keith's hand on my waist. It was obvious we would sit together, I took his hands so he could follow me and we could make that happen. It started well with him hitting his head on the bus roof and both of us giggling while he rubbed his head, a bit embarrassed.

“Are you okay, Daddy?” I said in a hushed tone. The nickname had just slipped out, but Keith didn't seem to react to it; he just gave me a kiss and steered me to continue to walk.

“Yes, my little bunny. It's okay…” he said low and deep at the same time I met Ludwig's eyes. He wouldn't have been able to have heard what I said, but it didn't seem like that mattered because he looked pissed anyway. I rolled my eyes, hoping he would see and let Keith steer me to a seat. I giggled again when I looked at how cramped he sat in the seat, but he just smirked and pulled me closer so he could kiss my forehead.

“Daddy's little girl…” he whispered and let his hand massage my thigh, up under my short dress.

×××

We walked together with the others under the guided tour and tried to behave the best we could. We were extra because I talked like a little girl the whole time while Keith messed around with me all the time to make me laugh. He bit my cheek loosely and dug his nose in behind my ear until it tickled. The others ignored us after a while, even Ludwig and his friends. When the guided tour was over, Keith left Farah and me to look around by ourselves while he sat down on a bench to look out over the pond.

“I don't know what to think really… It's obvious you're in love and that he's here for you, but… I can't just start trusting him because of that. What if what your mom said is true?” Said Farah, lowly, while we walked side by side. I smiled a little to myself because Keith's honest words had calmed me down. They weren't perfect words where he denied and proved everything was untrue, but it was a believable version, a version unflattering enough to be true.

“We talked about it, and, yeah, some of it is true.”

“It is?” Farah gave me a worried look, but I gave her a calming smile.

“He's older than us. He has been through things, and yeah, he's not perfect. And he's a dirty man.”

My cheek blossomed up to a rose red color, but I smiled a bit secretly.

“Jaqueline…” Farah sighed. “Don't let yourself get used. You shouldn't put up with his weird fetishes because he—”

“I like it, Farah. I like all of it. I don't care if he likes younger women and being a daddy because…” I laid my hand over my cheeks and laughed, embarrassed. “I like it just as much.”

I had thought a lot about what he had said and knew it didn't matter because I liked his dirty side. It was a lot, especially for a girl as inexperienced as me, but inexperienced didn't mean I couldn't like it, and I did. That he had watched a bit too much porn when he was in an unhappy marriage didn't feel like something weird at all. He was a man craving dirty sex, so why would he just accept a life of celibacy?

Keith was a dirty man, but maybe I was just as much of a dirty girl behind my good girl persona.

Farah had stopped at one of the bridges and looked out over the beautiful view. Among all the people, it was also easy to see Keith when he stood up. Even if he was so tall, he did look like the least threatening guy in the whole place. His demeanor was soft and kind, and he moved politely out of the way for people. I smiled and giggled just by seeing him like that. Farah looked at me, then at Keith, but didn't say anything. I looked at her and got a small smile back. I interpreted it like she gave us her blessing, and I gave her a brief side hug.

“I really need people on our side. Everyone is so judgemental.”

Farah nodded a little and looked towards Keith again, who stood and talked with an older lady. I could see from his expression he wasn't really comfortable, and I guessed the woman tried to speak French with him.

“Okay, okay… But I don't think my blessing means much when your parents probably will kill him if he comes close to you.”

I gave her a sad smile but took her hand.

“It means everything. You're my best friend and because of that, also my family. I need you.”

She smiled at me, but it was in the same sad way as I smiled, and then she hugged me hard, like a true friend should.

×××

The last days in Paris were beautiful, romantic, and cozy even if it rained some, but there was a bittersweet scent in that air wherever we walked. It was the final days we could openly act like a couple, and it was obvious it pained us both. We tried to use the time well with romantic dinners, walks, and cozy nights in the big hotel bed. We also had sex. A lot of it. Keith's honesty had also made him a bit more relaxed in what he liked, and instead of me guessing what lingerie he liked, how he wanted my hair, or how to act, he told me. I came to understand he didn't like lingerie that much; a cute pair of panties he could like, but otherwise there were things he liked better. He liked me in his clothes. He liked when I took the same t-shirt he had used that day and paired it with my French braids and no panties underneath. He liked when I walked around like that so he could peek at my bum and pussy while he did other things. He liked when I acted oblivious to how horny he was; he hoped I would never stop blushing by seeing his hard cock. He liked when I called him Daddy even if we weren't in the act.

He asked me what I liked, and to my surprise, I knew what I liked. I liked him as comfortable as he could get. If I decided, he would dress in sweats every day and skip all hair products. I liked him soft and sweet but with that intense, sexy gaze always near. I liked when he jerked off in front of me without warning me. I liked it when he tried me and did something I wasn't expecting, by ourselves but also among people.

It was our final night together in Paris, and I walked around in the hotel room, pulling the curtains even if there was a remote for it. Every time I did, his gray t-shirt I wore lifted and he could see my bare bottom. He sat with his laptop over his thighs, doing work he couldn't ignore, but he lifted his gaze a bit too often just to see me struggle.

“Why don't you use the remote?” He asked and laid a hand over his crotch.

“I can't find it, Daddy,” I said with a shoulder shrug and turned to him, playing with the t-shirt in my hands.

“Let go of the shirt; you will stretch it out,” said he authoritatively, which made me blush.

“I'm sorry…” I let the t-shirt go that still covered me because of its size.

“Have you looked? I haven't even seen you try to find it.” He sighed and leaned back in the white armchair he sat in.

“I did earlier! I did!” I protested, but Keith just sighed again and put the laptop on the coffee table in front of him.

“I know how sloppy you are. Try again and stop disturbing Daddy.”

Keith laid the laptop in his lap again. Even if it was a game, it could surprise me how real emotions could take over and settle in me, and in that moment I got really irritated at him, so instead of looking for the remote silently, I tried to be as loud as possible, even making annoyed, silly sounds while standing with my bum in the air. I didn't know if he was watching me, but I was almost sure of it. So while searching the bed, I stood on all fours with my bum towards him, leaning forward so much he could also see my pussy. I didn't get a reaction though, so I let my irritated sounds start to sound more like moans, small pathetic moans just to get his attention.

“I can see it,” I could hear him say with annoyance, and I peeked behind me just to see what he was doing.

“I can see the remote.” He sat leaning back in the chair with spread legs. The hand over his crotch had bundled up the dark gray thin sweats so I could see a thick line lay up against his hip, but his face was as collected as before.

“It's under the pillow,” he said and nodded towards the pillow that usually was mine. I looked at it and could see the remote lying there, thin and in sleek steel. I looked at it for a few seconds and a stupid idea took over. It felt like Keith would take a long time to really get my attention, and I didn't have his patience, so I took the remote, and instead of using it for the curtains, I placed it between my legs and slowly started to drag it between my folds.

“No, no, no,” said Keith behind me, and just a few seconds after, I could feel the mattress dip and him crawling up to take the remote from me. He looked at me with big eyes and then down to the remote. After the shock had left his face, he smirked evilly at me, and I realized what I had done. It was the hotel's remote and definitely not something to masturbate with.

“Are you so desperate for attention you will fuck yourself with a remote?” Keith mocked me and laid a heavy hand on my bum that still was in the air. I thought about changing position but knew Keith would react to that. I had chosen my degrading position myself; now I would stay like that.

“Daddy…” I whined because I didn't know what else to say. Instead of getting comforting words back, he slapped my ass hard, so hard I almost fell from my position on my knees. He did it a few times more but then dragged his hands soothingly over the blossoming color he had created.

“Fuck, honey, there can be all kinds of bacteria and shit on that shit.”

He turned me around and looked at me seriously.

“Time to scrub that pussy clean, dirty girl.”

I didn't say anything because it was still embarrassing what I had done, and I continued to be silent while he pulled the t-shirt off of me and put me in the luxury bathtub. On his knees next to me, he started to wash my pussy softly. He hadn't done anything like that since the first time we had sex, but I spread my legs and let him drag his wet, curious fingers over me. I could feel my pulse creep down there, and I couldn't stop myself from moving against his hand a bit.

“Never get such stupid ideas again, okay? You must take care of yourself. Take care of Daddy's pussy.”

He smiled fatherly at me, and I smiled back even if I still felt ashamed.

“Must I wash your sweet little ass too?” He mocked me with an evil gaze. I knew I hadn't dragged the remote that low but pretended differently and nodded like I was ashamed. Keith smirked knowingly but washed and lotioned every part of me up with long, skillful fingers. His longest finger sank down my asshole while he lotioned me up, but I didn't say anything; I just smiled a little while looking at him pulling on his cock in the inside of his sweats. Finished, I stood naked in front of him, and looked at him tenting his sweatpants. Looking up at him, my eyes asked for permission to touch him, and Keith answered by pulling off his t-shirt and then pushing down his sweatpants. His cock was so hard and already wet with its own pre-cum. His balls were tight like he was already close to coming.

“Now, girly, lean forward so Daddy can punish you for your really filthy behavior.”

I leaned up against the bassinet and lifted a leg up to make it easier with his height. He gave both my ass and pussy a spank, but then he pushed into me roughly and held my hips so hard I could feel bruises form under his fingers.

×××

I pretended to be that good girl again as soon as I was home, but I kept the joy. Even if Keith and I needed to be a secret again, I still had him in my life again, and that was enough of a reason to continue to have a big smile on my lips; it was also the best way to fool my mom that everything was okay, and she would let me be without lurking in my life.

I tried to come up with a way for me and Keith to be a couple, to not need to keep hiding, and I suspected he did too because he could be a little distant when we met at his place during the night. I went into some sort of made-up safeness and forgot that still everything could be smashed into pieces again.

“Dismissed? What, for having a boyfriend?”

I sat in front of the sorority committee in our common room. We sat by the long table, but I was placed on one side alone while the other girls sat on the other side, looking at me with furrowed brows.

“I'm sorry, Jaqueline, but your behavior breaks our rules. We have heard about your behavior on the Paris trip, and it goes against our statutes.”

I looked at them one by one and then scoffed loudly.

“I was just having fun with my boyfriend!”

“Yes. But in a way that we don't tolerate,” said our leader as she crossed her arms. It was clear she started to get annoyed with me. I looked at them with big eyes. They looked at me like I was street trash someone had dragged in and put on their floor. In their eyes I was a whore now because I had an older boyfriend who I made out with in public.

“I really think you should think about if this is what you want to be. I thought you wanted a good husband and a safe home. I also think you should think about your parents; this can be embarrassing for them.”

I scoffed again and stood up annoyed. First I had been hurt that they dismissed me, but now I was just annoyed that preppy, virgin girls thought they had the right to look down at me.

“Think about your father—”

“Oh, just shut up; you don't care about that! You don't care about what my parents feel or think!”

I commented loudly and put my bag on my shoulder. I looked straight at the leader that looked back at me with fake pity.

“Yes, yes we do. That's why we called your mother before you came here.”

×××

I looked at my ringing phone in my lap while the tears streamed down my face. Even if my mom had a pink heart behind her name, the text looked aggressive on the screen. Everything with my mom was a bit aggressive, and I would always be a bit scared of her. Sometimes it felt like others were too, but not Keith, not at all.

We sat together in his car. He had met me up by the sorority, and he had driven us to the nearest place I could get a hot chocolate in the middle of May. Together with it in a takeaway cup, he had bought himself a flat white, and in the parking lot we drank our drinks while the weather started to look more and more like summer. I continued to cry, and my mom continued to call.

“Shouldn't we just go there?” Keith sighed and looked at me with big, tired eyes.

“And say what? She will tell your wife, and then it's over for the both of us!” I cried loudly and dried my cheeks of glittery blue eyeshadow with my fingers.

“I don't think so, if I'm being honest. I don't think she will tell her.”

“Of course she will! Not to be vulgar or anything, but my mom is a real B-word!”

Keith smirked and looked at me amused.

“Really? The B-word?”

“Yes! She is!” I said without really registering that he was making fun of my prude way of talking. Keith took my hand in his and leaned close to me. He kissed my nose and made me calm down just by putting his own nose tip against mine.

“Let me talk to her, babe… I think I could talk to her,” he whispered, and I looked at him with big eyes, fascinated by his confidence. I nodded because I knew I shouldn't talk back to him too much; he was my Daddy after all.

While he drove to my parents house, he held my hand the whole way there. I breathed deeply, trying to stay calm. What calmed me down the most was looking at Keith; he was completely calm and looked like he didn't have a problem in the world. I smiled a little when he did because his confidence made me believe him—that he could speak to my mom and make her keep it a secret until his divorce was final. It was so close. Keith had a way with people, and maybe he even could calm my mom down.

He parked just outside of the house, not caring to park it in the right place or hide it. He walked around to open my door and helped me out so my short skirt wouldn't slip up. He gave me a light peck and then one more on the back of my hand before we walked up the driveway to the house hand in hand. It was he that opened the door, and it was also he that called out a hello when we stood in the hallway. I gave him a worried look and then looked down at our hands that still were linked together. He looked at me, pulling down the corners of his mouth and shrugging his shoulders, believing no one was home, but soon my mom came around the corner with an icy stare.

“Leave our house at once, or I will call the police!” She said aggressively, but I could hear her voice break in fear. Both Keith and I looked at her in shock; neither of us were prepared for her to stand with her phone against her chest, ready to call the authorities.

“Can we just—” started Keith, but she raised her voice and shouted at him to leave.

“Mom,” I said weakly. I didn't want them to fight because I loved both of them, and I knew Keith just wanted to talk in peace.

“Go to your room!”

I looked between her and Keith, but he didn't let my hand go.

“Giselle,” he started again, but she just waved with her phone in a pointed way. I could see Keith getting annoyed because this was not how he wanted to solve things, so after a few seconds of her trying to wave me to my room and threatening him with the phone, he took a deep breath and said with masculine power:

“Giselle, I just want to talk. Just the two of us. Now.”

She looked at him in shock but swallowed hard and gave in. Instead of her leading him in her home, he was the one leading her to the dining room without giving me a look. It really felt like the grown-ups would talk while I should stay to play by myself.

I tried to keep myself busy by fixing my makeup and braiding my hair, but my mom's loud voice and the deep vibration of Keith's voice made me sometimes just sit and stare towards the dining room. I couldn't hear much, just that my mom was screaming that I was just a child and that he was an awful human being. I couldn't hear if they resolved anything, but after twenty minutes they came out to me in the living room. I stood up awkwardly, like they would give me an important message. Even if they didn't say it out loud, I got a message when Keith laid his arms around me and kissed my lips. It wasn't even that dry little peck we could do in public but the more intimate kind he often gave me as a hello.

“I’ll wait in the car…” he whispered, and I looked at him with big, confused eyes. He dragged his hand over my waist and walked out without giving my mom a look, who stood just in front of us. When I looked at her, she stood with her cheek towards us, and I guessed she hadn't wanted to look at mine and Keith's intimacy.

“Mom…” I said as weakly as before, still scared she would scream at me, but instead she just gave me a cold look.

“I will ignore your relationship, but your father can't know a thing, okay? This is sick, Jaqueline. He's old enough to be your father. He's one of your father's oldest friends, but—”

“I love him, Mom,” I whined, afraid she would take him away from me even if it had just sounded like she would accept it.

She shook her head in disappointment but then dragged her hands over her face in anxiety.

“You can never tell your father this. I just hope you will realize what a mistake you're making.”

She gave me a sincere look, and I looked back at her insecurely. I didn't understand what she meant, and I couldn't really believe she would let me be with Keith.

Mom looked out the window where Keith stood waiting against the hood of his car. I looked at him too; he was looking dreamy in a crisp white t-shirt and messy, slicked-back hair in the sun.

“Go now; don't let him wait…” said my mom to me with a sigh and turned her back to me. I looked at her petite stature for a while before walking to her side and giving her a fast hug.

“Thank you, Mom, thank you. I really do love him!” I said with a beating heart and took my little handbag from the floor.

“I actually believe he loves you too… I just hope that will be enough…”

She had turned her eyes away from me again, but I was too excited to really take in what she said. Instead I giggled to myself and ran out to my boyfriend, who smiled brightly when I came out the door.

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