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#i’ll do my best with this whole writing thing!!
samandcolbyownme · 3 days
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I spent a lot of time writing and rewriting this. Adding detail taking too much detail, so I figured I’d just start right when it gets good and go from there and make a KILLIONAIRES series.
This is Part One.
Warnings are for the WHOLE SERIES | SMUT18+, strong language, swearing, enemies to lovers, mentions of weapons, knives, guns, gunfire, KNIFE PLAY, blood, injuries, wounds, arguing, some physical fighting, mentions of drugs, smoking weed, mentions of car accident, fbi!reader, reader being restrained, kissing, biting, hair pulling, scratching, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m rec), violence and filth
Word Count: 5.7k | unedited
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It’s been one body after another, sometimes two or three at once scene, if they are feeling up for it.
It’s been weeks and you and your team still don’t know who they are.
Billionaires are the target, why? No idea.
That was until you walked into the latest crime scene and the first thing that caught your attention was ‘They're not an inspiration, they're soulless scumbags’ spray painted on the wall in red.
“Heathers.” You snap and the officer turns towards you, “What’s up, y/n?” He looks from you to the wall and you tilt your head, “Did Gerald have any investments in anything?”
Heathers shakes his head, goes down over the report again, “Um.. oh wait.” He turns the paper towards you, pointing at something that sticks out.
“These people are after billionaires because they’re taking away from the people who barely have enough money to get by.” You turn towards the officer, “I need a list of people around here who have a background with the police.”
“Anything else?” He takes out his note pad and writes down what you told him. You shake your head, “No, as of right now I’m going to finish my look over here and then I’m going back to the station.”
“I can wait for you, take you back myself.” He shrugs and you nod, “Okay.” You smile as you walk away, finishing gathering everything you need.
You fill the chief in on what you told Heathers to do and he nods, “You’re onto something, y/l/n.” He looks around, “That thing Heathers pointed out, that I think was a plan that was talked about months ago.”
“What plan?” You tilt your head and he sighs, “A few people came together to buy an area of older apartment buildings on the west side of town.”
“The west side is where-“
“Exactly.”
You purse your lips, “Okay. I have everything here. I’m going to go back with Heathers to the station and start coming up with a list of possible suspects.”
“Thanks for coming on such short notice. You’re one of the best. We’re lucky to have you.” Chief smiles and you nod, “It’s the least I could do. You helped find the guy who shot my brother.”
“A few other officers are heading back to the station now.” Heathers walks up and you nod, “Alright. I just filled the chief in on everything.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
You both nod to the chief and head towards the car. As you get in, you let out a sigh, “I just can’t help but feel like we’re so close, you know?”
Heathers nods, “No, I know exactly what you mean.”
“Thank you for watching out for me. I know you and Ben were close.” You smile over at him, “I truly appreciate it, Heathers.”
He chuckles, “Would you please call me by my first name?” He shakes his head, coming to a stop at a red light, “Cody is not that card to remember.”
You laugh, “Sorry. Ben always calls you that, so it just stuck.”
“I just hope he’s back on his feet here soon.” He sighs, “Sucks that that even hap-“
Your body is jolted to the side, the air bags go off and glass flies everywhere. The sound of tires screeching to a stop fill your ears before you’re slammed back against the seat, falling unconscious.
——
You weren’t sure how long you were out for, but you were hurting.
You groaned as you lifted your head, but the pain in your neck caused it to fall back down. You heard distant bickering, “I told you not to hit the fucking passenger side of the car..”
“You fucking moron, you could have killed her. That’s not what we are trying to do.”
“Fucking Christ, I’m sorry if I missed the road and had to do a U turn… She’s here… what more do you fucking want from me?”
All of them were different voices.
You finally lifted your head, seeing four blurry figures in the distance. You tried to pull your hands, but your wrists were bound to the chair behind you, same with your ankles to the chair legs.
“H-hello.” You try to yell, but your voice was raspy. Your throat was dryer than fuck. You tried swallowing, trying to clear your throat before you yelled again, “Where the fuck, am I?”
“Shit. She’s awake.”
“Now if you look to your right, asshole.” The one figure motions towards you, but he’s talking to the other guy, “You’ll see that your target is alive.”
“Where’s Cody?” You ask, breathing heavy as the pain starts to set in worse, “Fuck.” You pull your wrists, but you freeze as the one man walks over and bends down between your knees, “I wouldn’t struggle sweetheart.”
Your eyes scan over his face, taking a mental image for when you do finally escape these psycho fucks, “Who are you?”
“Well, I’m Jake.” He lays a hand on his chest as he turns, pointing to each of the guys who walk forward behind him, “That’s Sam, Colby, and then the asshole who hit your side of the car when he was told not to, is Johnnie.”
“In my defense, I don’t have a license.” Johnnie shrugs and you just look at them so confused.
“So, by your face, I can tell you’re confused.” Jake moves to sit where he was just kneeling, his tattooed arms come up to wrap around his knees, “So let me break it down for you, y/n.”
“Where my badge.” You state and Jake just laughs, “y/n, sweetheart, I don’t need a badge to tell me who you are.”
Your heart thumps in your chest, what the fuck is happening?
“Listen. It’ll all make sense in a second, but right now..” Jake leans forward, “I want to know how bad you want to live.”
His statement makes your skin crawl.
“What do I need to do?” You ask, “Money? I can get money.”
“I mean, money wouldn’t be a bad idea, right?” Johnnie asks and Colby smacks him upside the head, “Can you be serious for once in your fucking life?”
Why were these men so hot?
No. No. Stop that.
You clear your throat again, “Can, I.. get some water please?” You look up between the guy on the floor and the blonde who speaks, “Oh she’s polite?” He raises his brows as he walks over with a water bottle, “Didn’t expect that.”
He opens it and holds it up to your lips, allowing you to get a long awaited drink. You lean back, looking down, “I’m not going to pass out or start foaming at the mouth in two minutes am I?”
“She’s funny.” Colby says tilting his head, “No, y/n. You aren’t. But.. Why are you so calm?”
“I’m an FBI agent, but..” you tilt your head to Jake, “I’m sure you already knew that.”
Jake smirks and nods, “Yeah, we’ve been, well.. I’ve been following you for a while. You’re the talk of the town you know. Super sexy fbi agent solves ten year mystery in a week.”
“What’s your point?” You sigh and Jake tilts his head, “You are going to be our little spy.”
“Your little spy?” You furrow your brows and then it all clicks, “Killionaires.”
“What did you just say?” Jake asks leaning in and you swallow, “Each case we have we give nicknames too. I’m assuming.. you’re the ones who are killing the soulless scumbags who aren’t an inspiration to any?”
Jake purses his lips, a smirk forming as he nods, “You got my message.”
“I was literally at that scene.. well, I don’t know how long I’ve been.. here.” You look around and Jake shrugs, “Five hours, give or take.. and we left your fuck buddy super trooper in the car, along with your phone and anything else that could be tracked.”
You stare at Jake, “How do you know about that?”
He smirks, letting out a sigh, “Like I said. You’re the talk of the town, babe. I knew they were going to bring you in for us, so as soon as we started planning this, I had to get a head of you.”
“You fucking stalked me?” You scoff, “What the fuck.“
“Like I said. Right now, I want to know just how much your life is worth to you.” Jake stands up, “When ever you’re ready to tell me I’ll c-“
“I want to live. Okay.” You look up at Jake and he walks over to you, hands resting on the arm rests as he is inches away from your face, “I don’t think I believe you.”
You lean in, getting closer, “Do you want me to fucking cry? Beg for my life?”
Jake shrugs, eyes moving from your lips back up to your eyes, “Why do you want to live?” You hold your ground, “You seem to know all about me, you tell me.”
Jake chuckles, looking back to his friends then back to you. His laugh stops as soon as his hand is around your throat, a gasp from the sudden action escapes your lips, “The attitude was hot at first, but now you’re just pissing me off.”
A smile forms on your lips and he scoffs, shaking his head as he stares down at you. His voice is low, “I couldn’t kill you even if I had to.”
He runs his thumb over your bottom lip and you snap your head away, “If that’s why you br-“
“No. We brought you here because you can help us take out all the billionaires easier, fucking rob their bodies for what they got. Give back to what they want to take away and leave them out to fucking rot.”
You couldn’t lie. The motive behind Jake, and friend’s, ongoing crime, was valid, but with you being an active investigator, you were sworn to put these guys behind bars, not become a pawn in their scheme.
“We just want you to get information for us, mainly people who are really fucking people over.” Sam steps up and you look over at him, “What’s in it for me? Like.. I help you, I go to prison.”
You scoff, “Do you know what they do to agents in prison?”
“That’s the thing, sweetheart. You help us, we help you.” Jake explains, “All we want is the information on who’s planning to buy and knock down that hospital.”
You knew exactly what he was talking about, too.
“That hospital is in an area where kids are constantly falling and getting hurt. You have to see that we aren’t doing this just to get a thrill out of killing.” Colby steps up, “I mean, they deserve it, so it’s very satisfying, but we do it because we want to help people and no one wants to do anything about it.”
You look between them, your breathing growing more rapid, “Yeah, m’gonna pass o-“
——
You bring your hand up to your face, rubbing your eye before you stop. You pull your hand away and open your eyes, sitting up quickly when you realized you weren’t tied to the chair anymore.
You sit up quickly, and a little too quick at that, “Fuck.”
“Yeah I wouldn’t move, too fast.” Sam’s voice causes you to jump, “Sorry.” He chuckles, “Jake still thinks you’re a flight risk.”
You raise your brows, rubbing your hands on your wrists, “So where are we?”
“About three hours from New York City.”
You were surprised Sam told you, but then again, you felt oddly safe with them. You didn’t feel like you needed to be ready to fight off someone.
You didn’t feel on edge.
“Are you going to kill me?” You look over at Sam and he shakes his head as he stands up, walking over to meet Jake when he walks in, “Hey.”
You nod, “Hi.”
“Do you remember our-“
“Yes.” You cut him off, “I do.”
He nods, staring at you for a few seconds, “Do you hurt? Do you need anything?” He reaches up, fingers gently brushing over your bruised cheek, “Anything at all. You tell me, okay?”
Your eyes stay locked on his and you nod, “Thank you.”
He leans back, “We’re going back towards the city. If you made up your mind, we can take you back with us and you can walk in saying you don’t remember anything.. or-“
“I don’t want to die, Jake. I told you that.” You stand up, closing your eyes as you feel dizzy, “I’ll get you the information, but you have to keep my name out of it if you get caught.”
“That wasn’t the deal.” Jake shakes his head and you scoff, “You said, if I help you you help me-“
“We’ll be back.” Jake turns around and you walk over to him, “I’m coming with you!” You push his back and he turns around, leaning over you.
You lean back slightly as you stare up at him, “I’m coming.”
He tilts his head, “I would know if you are.” He winks and you roll your eyes, stepping back as you cross your arms, “What do I have to do to get you to believe that I won’t snitch?”
“I’ll get you the guy that wants your brother dead.”
You freeze, “W-what? No.. that can’t be possible the guy that shot him is-” Jake cuts you off, “A cover up for the guy who actually did it.”
You stare at him, “Who.”
He shakes his head, “No. Not until I get the information I want.” You step closer to Jake, “I promise I won’t do anything. I just want a name.”
“We all want names, y/n. The faster you get me what I want, the faster you get what you want.” Jake tilts his head, “Do we have a deal?”
You chew on your lip for a few seconds before sighing, “If you’re lying to me, I’ll kill you myself.” You lay your hand into his and shake it as he smirks, “Feelings mutual, babe.”
——
“I just want you to know that you’re safe.” Jake’s voice breaks the silence and you look over at him, “What do you mean?”
“With us. Without us. Either way. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You laugh slightly, “I just don’t.. know how you expect me to be okay with this.”
“The only thing I expect from you is names, y/n. Everything else is on you.” Jake shakes his head, “I don’t want to kill you. If I wanted you dead or even thought about wanting you dead, you’d be dead.”
“You’re a killer, either way, Jake.”
“I’m a goddamn hero.”
You scoff, “Whatever. I’m going now.” Jake laughs, “Could have went twenty minutes ago.”
You roll your eyes, “No one told me that. I’m afraid if I make any sudden movement I’ll be sniped on site.”
Jake snickers as he shakes his head, “I’ll be seeing you around, y/n. Good luck.” You don’t say anything, you just get out and start walking down the dark alley. You did look pretty beat up, so wandering away from the scene is more than likely a believable story.
You hoped it was, at least.
You walk in and three officers quickly rush over to you, “Oh my god.”
“Someone get the Cheif!”
“Y/n, hey. What happened, where were you?”
You looked around before you pretended to pass out again, dropping to the floor. You laid there, eyes closed as you focused on your encounter with the Killionaires.
You feel people moving you, trying to shake you awake, but you don’t budge. You give it a few more minutes before you snap your eyes open and gasp.
“We have an ambulance coming for you, y/n.” The chief says as he bends down, “Can you tell us what happened?”
You shake your head, “I-I do-n’t.” You couldn’t lie, the feeling of agreeing to do this was weighing on you hard, but at the same time, you felt more safe with a group of random killers than you do right now.
You didn’t know what to do but start crying, “The acci-dent.. Cody..” you look up, “I-is he okay?”
The chief nods, “He’s in the hospital still, but he’s been asking about you. He woke up and you were gone. No one knew where you were.”
You let out a sigh, “O-okay.”
The EMT’s come in, telling people to make room and you’re taking to the hospital.
You were admitted almost immediately. They wanted to run all the tests so you were stuck there for a night.
It wasn’t long before Cody was pushed in, smiling as soon as he sees you, “Where the heck did you go?” You shrug your shoulders, “I couldn’t tell you, Heathers.”
He tilts his head, “Y/n.”
You sigh, “Cody. Right, sorry.” He shakes his head, “You call me whatever you want.” You smile and let out a sigh, “I remember I was in the cruiser with you, then we were hit and then I blacked out for a while.. I must have gotten out and went to the woods or something because I woke up under a tree.”
“You’re lucky to still be here. The damage to the car is.. I’m surprised you’re still here.” He moves closer and takes your hand into his.
“Was it a drunk driver?” You ask and he shrugs, “It was just me at the scene when someone else came rolling up onto it and called it in. I’m not even sure what happened myself.
Good, good, you think to yourself, “Hopfully we can figure it out. When are they discharging you?” He shrugs, hopfully this afternoon.”
“What time is it? What day is it?” You look around and Cody squeezes your hand, “Hey. Relax. It’s nine thirty in the morning and it’s Wednesday. The accident happened last night around seven.”
Sounds about right, or at least you thought it did.
You relax into the bed, “So I was thinking.” Cody chuckles, “When are you not thinking?” You smile and shrug, “I’m not sure, but anyway. I want to look into getting information about that hospital that’s closing its doors, maybe we help it stay open, get better supplies for it. There’s a lot of kids in that area, Cody.”
He stays quiet for a few minutes as he thinks, “We can move the families and such into protective custody.” He nods, “Y/n. That’s genius.”
Oh fuck.
You swallow, “Y-yeah. It is.”
——
“Everything came back normal. You were dehydrated and you’ll have a few bumps and bruises the next few weeks, but you’re going to make a full recovery.” The doctor smiles at you, closing your folder, “I’d stay out of work a few days, but other than that. You’re good to go home.”
You nod, moving the blankets off of your legs, “Thank you so much.”
“I’ll have someone come in and remove that IV for you.”
You nod and rest your head back, waiting patiently for the nurse to come in, which is rather fast in your opinion. She comes in smiling, settting stuff beside you before grabbing gloves.
There’s a knock on the door and it slides open, “I hear they’re discharging you. Is it safe to come in?”
“Yes, Cody. You can come in.” You laugh slightly as you watch him walk in. The girl puts a bandage on your arm and walks out.
“I just have to change and then I’m free to leave.” You stand up and Cody moves next to you. As much as you liked Cody, and as much as you shouldn’t, you couldn’t stop thinking about Jake.
“Y/n?”
“What?” You look up at him, “Sorry. I’m so tired.” You laugh slightly as you move your hair for him to untie your gown.
“I brought you a change of clothes. I figured you wouldn’t want to put your dirty ones back on.” He lays the stuff on the bed and you nod, “Thank you.”
——
Cody walks you up to your door and you get this odd feeling not to let him in, “Thank you, again. I will be sure to give my brother a call and let him know that I’m home safe and sound.”
“I can stay if you-“
You cut him off, “It’s okay. I’m home. I’m going to be home. I’ll call if I need anything.” You reach out and touch his arm, “You’ve done so much for me already.”
He nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead, “I mean anything.”
You nod, “I know.” You watch as he walks back to his car and as soon as you turn back to your door, you twist the knob.
To which is already unlocked.
“Welcome home, sweetheart.” Jake says as he stands up from your couch, “Cute little place you got here. It’s nice to actually see the inside.”
You close your door, letting out a sigh as you set your paperwork on the counter, “Do you have to make everything weird?”
He walks over and leans down on the counter, “I mean, I’m just that kind of guy I guess.” He smiles and you aren’t sure if it’s the pain killers, or what but you liked his smile.
“What did they give you for pain, y/n?” You toss the bag with the medicine bottle inside and he nods, “C’mon. I have something better for you.”
He holds his hand out and you feel like you have no other choice but to follow his orders, you and now your brother’s lives are at stake.
You intertwine your fingers with his and he leads you outback to your patio. It was fairly private, so you didn’t have to worry about nosey neighbors snitching on you to your bother, or even Cody.
You sit down on the patio couch, Jake sitting next to you after pulling something from his pocket. Your eyes go wide when you see what he’s lighting and you stand up, “Jake. I cannot do that.”
“Just sit down. You don’t do it regular so it’ll be out of your system in like three, I don’t know five days tops?” He takes a hit and you don’t know if it would be considered Stockholm syndrome or what, but you felt like you needed this man sitting before you.
“You said three days?” You ask sitting down next to him and he nods, exhaling the smoke, “Three days, baby.”
“Don’t call me that.” You scrunch up your nose, slowly bringing the joint to your lips and inhaling. You close your eyes, instantly feeling the high setting in, “It’s weird.” You breathe out, handing it back to Jake.
“Take another, sweetheart. You deserve it.” He pushes your hand back up to your lips, encouraging you to take another hit, to which you do.
Your body relax into the patio couch, you cough with this one, covering your mouth as Jake takes the joint from your fingers.
Once you calm down, Jake looks at you, “Why do you trust me?”
“I don’t.”
“Yes you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t have drank the water, hit this joint, or even sat in the car with me for twenty minutes when you could have left.”
“I was thirsty enough. I’m in that much pain, and I didn’t know if I was going to get shot or now.” You shrug, smirking as he just stares at you.
You tilt your head, “Why don’t you want to kill me?”
Jake laughs, giving you back the joint, “Alright, now you’re pushing it.” He looks over at you as you take another drag, “You can get something I need. Why would I want to get rid of something that benefits me?”
“I mean..” You exhale the smoke, “..I guess that’s fair. I don’t know.” You shrug with a laugh. Jake shakes his head, “You are pretty hot. I will give you that, too.”
“You’re not so bad lookin’ yourself, you know.” You purse your lips, “So what else do you want from me? I feel like you’re being too lenient with me. Aren’t murders supposed to be. scary?”
“You’re saying you’re not even the slightest bit scared of me, or any of my friends you’ve met?” Jake raises his brows and you nod, “I wouldn’t be sitting here, doing something I shouldn’t be doing, with someone like you.”
“I’m just..” he shakes his head, “Amazed, I guess? I was expecting you to put up a fight once you woke up.”
“Well, with the way Johnnie hit me, I won’t be fighting for a few weeks.” You sigh, “So what? Are you just going to keep killing?”
“While you work to get me the names I need, yes.”
You nod, “Okay.” You look down, “I know this is wrong.. but..” You look out into your yard and Jake tilts his head, “Say it, baby.”
You side eye him about the nickname and shake your head, “I agree with what you’re doing. I do, I’m just.. also under oath to protect and serve and this is not me protecting and serving.”
Jake turns towards you, hand reaching out to gently turn your head towards him, “I promise, y/n. When this is all said and done, you won’t have to worry about anything ever again.”
“I just want my name kept out of it. I can’t go to prison, Jake.”
He nods, “You’re too pretty for that place, they would eat you alive, literally.” He smirks slightly and you roll your eyes, “Oh my god. You’re right, but knock it off.”
He smiles and you shake your head, “I’m serious. I’ll get you the list of names, but that’s it.”
“Can you do one other thing for me?” Jake tilts his head and you sigh, “What.”
“I’ve always wanted to cross off fucking an FBI agent off of my bucket list.” He smirks and you stand up, “We can’t do that, we might fall in love.”
Jake stands up, following you inside, “What’s so wrong about that?”
“Everything is wrong about that. My life is on the line no matter which way you look.” You take a deep breath, “I’ll make a call, I’ll have an officer bring everything to me. I’ll have someone email me a list of potential names but Jake..”
“What?”
“You have to move fast.” You swallow, “I said something about getting a list of names and they’re probably already looking at moving them into protective custody.”
His jaw clenches and you could tell he was pissed, but he wasn’t going to take it out on you, “I gotta go. If we’re doing this, you need to get that shit tonight.”
He walks towards your back door and you just stand there, you didn’t know what to do about this situation. The only thing you could really do in general is get that case information brought over, as soon as possible.
——
You stand up as there’s a knock on your door. As you make your way over to look out, you see an officer from the station and you let out a slight sigh of relief.
“Hey Nat.” You smile, moving away so she can bring in the box, “You can just get it down on my coffee table in the living room.”
You close the door and walk in. She looks up at you, “How are you feeling?”
You shrug, “Doc gave me pain meds. They seem to be helping. I want to come back.”
“You take all the time you need, we aren’t sure what this accident was, and if it was about the current case..” She shakes her head, “We need you safe.”
“I know. I know.” You laugh slightly, “I get so stir crazy. Nothing like this has happened to me before.”
Especially the part where you were kidnapped and bribed by the current suspects in a massive case.
“I get off at five. I can bring dinner?” She tilts her head and you nod, “Please.”
She gets a call in her radio and she raises her brows at you as she answers, “McAndrews responding.” She looks up at you, “Duty calls.”
You smile and walk over to the door, closing it as she runs down the steps. You turn around and gasp, body jolting as you see Jake and Colby standing there.
“Sorry.” Colby laughs, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Uh huh.” You walk but then stop, “We’re you watching me?” You look at Jake and he smirks, “How was your nap?”
You ignore him and walk back into the living room, “This is everything, but go into my bedroom or something. They’re going to have people checking in and doing surveillance.”
Jake bites his lower lip, looking at you as Colby grabs the box, “The list of names in there?”
You hold your stare on his, “Should be right on top.”
His eyes move down to your lips and he smirks, “Thank you Agent Y/l/n.” He goes to turn and you grab his arm, his head snapping down to look at your hand, “What.”
“Where’s your end of the deal?” You push him to face you and he steps closer to you, “I don’t think you can handle taking care of a man like this.”
“What makes you say that?”
At this point you were both whispering to each other, bodies inches from each others, anger rising quickly within you, “Huh?”
He raises his brows, “I think, you’re all bark. No bite. You shoot when you have to, not when you want to.“
“What aren’t you telling me?” You furrow your brows and Jake chuckles, “What do you mean?” You shake your head, “There’s more to it, Jake. Isn’t there?”
He shakes his head, looking away as he tries to figure out something to say.
You challenged him more than he knew, and that’s never happened to him before.
“You’re smart.” He says as he looks back at you, “Figure it out yourself.” He goes to walk away and you don’t even think, you shove him in the back and he whips around, backing you into the wall.
He just stares down at you. You clench your jaw, hands pushing into his chest, “We had a deal.”
“Yeah? And? What are you going to do? Turn us into the cops?” He leans in close, lips brushing against yours, “Let me tell you something, sweetheart, we go down. you go down, too.”
You watch as he leans back, looking you up and down, “I see why your best friend’s brother loves to come over after shifts. I wouldn’t be able to stay away from the fire either.”
He walks backwards, turning as you stay silent and watch him go back the hall.
You couldn’t lie, you were absolutely flustered, but pissed.
You walked back the hall, leaning against the doorframe as you watched them go through the folders, “Try and keep everything where it was please.”
Your voice was quiet and Colby looks up, giving you a nod, “We will.” There’s a knock on your door and you whip your head over, “I don’t know who that is, so just please. Go into the guest room and please..” you look at Jake with a pleading look, “Stay in there.”
He stares at you as another knock on the door sounds and he nods to Colby, “C’mon.”
You watch as they go in, “They look in the windows, stay hidden.”
“I know the drill, babe.” Jake winks as he closes the door and locks it. You sigh as you rush to the door, opening it to reveal the chief of police, “Hey, y/n. How are you feeling?”
You motion for him to come in, “I’ve been better.” You laugh slightly and he nods, turning to look at you, “Yeah, yeah. Did McAndrews being over the files and stuff that you asked for?”
You nod, “She did. I actually, passed out while going over them.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you.” He shakes his head, “I just came by to tell you that we decided that since we have no information on the other driver of vehicle, I’m going to have an officer posted here until we get to the bottom of this.”
“Whatever works best for you, Chief.” You smile and he walks towards the door, “If you need anything at all. Please do not hesitate to let whoever know. You know all of them.”
You laugh as you open the door, “Thank you. I’ll be sure to keep them in the loop.”
“Alright. Rest up, don’t strain yourself.” He points and you point back, “You know I can’t help it.” You close the door and let out a sigh, locking it before going back to your bedroom.
“I told you to-“
“I know what you said.” Jake says, “But we don’t have time to waste.” He stands up, “Colby. We got it.”
Colby moves, glancing at you as he walks by you. Jake stops right infront of you, chest almost on yours, “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”
He leans in, gently pressing his lips to your temple and you close your eyes, taking in a slow breath as he tilts his head down, lips right at your ear as he whispers, “I hope this was enough time for you to fall in love with me.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“I’ll think of you when I do.” He winks and leaves with Colby, sneaking out without a trace of them even being there.
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
Holy fuck. Okay. Please for the love of Jake Webber tell me how this was !! I need to know! I love you all, thank you so so so much for waiting on this, I know it’s not exactly what I had originally planned, but TRUST!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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hayleythesugarbowl · 3 days
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if ur requests are closed, don’t worry abt this message😅 but is there a chance of seeing more anthony padilla content/fics in the future? i recently fell in love w him not even gonna lie ❤️.❤️ love ur work!!!
First Day || Anthony Padilla x reader
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist • anthony hcs ⋆˚。⋆୨୧⋆
summary: after ian and anthony buy smosh, you can’t wait to finally meet anthony. but your first encounter with him doesn’t go exactly as you would have thought
word count: 2.7k
warnings: this is disney channel level cheesy + convenient but i had fun and i hope u do too 🤭, mild language
a/n: oh we are so back! there absolutely is a chance of seeing anthony content on this blog! there is so little content for him i had to write this. hope u enjoy!!
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     “Where’s Anthony?”
     You turned to Angela, who’d asked the question. She set her bag down on a chair next to you and pulled out her phone. 
     “He’s not supposed to be here until after Moose Master,” Shayne answered her, looking up from his couch.
     “I thought you guys were supposed to shoot the whole ‘we bought Smosh’ video this morning,” she said. “Moose Master isn’t until this afternoon. 
     “Moose Master’s in like ten minutes,” you told her.
     “Dammit, I knew I shouldn’t have just skimmed the schedule!” She cursed, grabbing her things and running, probably towards hair and makeup.
     You rolled your eyes at her back, smiling. You loved Angela, but you couldn’t deny she could be clueless sometimes.
      Shayne turned to you, “So, you exited to meet Anthony?”
      “I’m excited to see what all the hype’s about,” you said.
      You had begun working at Smosh exactly three months ago and you hadn’t  known who Anthony was until very recently. 
      But since Ian and Anthony had bought Smosh, he was all anyone was talking about. The cast members who were around before Anthony left had been sharing stories about him all week.
     Most of your coworkers had already met him—or, been reacquainted with him—at a meeting him and Ian had held after it was announced that they were buying their company back.
     You, unfortunately, had called in sick that day, and had yet to come face to face with him. 
    All you knew was that Anthony was Ian’s best friend who he’d started this company with. That he’d left a few years back. And that now he was rejoining Smosh as one of the owners. 
     Today was going to be Anthony’s first official day back on set, and you were looking forward to finally meeting him.
     “You’re gonna love him, trust me.”
      Shayne’s voice brought you out of your thoughts and you stood up, checking your watch.
      “You wanna head over for Who Meme’d It?” You asked him, realizing you only had a quarter of an hour.
      “I guess I could suit up,” Shayne answered, nodding and walking towards the entryway.
      You began walking with him down the hall and towards the Who Meme’d It set when you realized—
      “Crap, I forgot my glasses!” you exclaimed. “I’ll catch up with you in a few.”
     “Good idea, wouldn’t want you pulling an Angela,” Shayne joked as you turned and hustled in the other direction. 
     Your glasses were in your bag, halfway across the building. Even though you had become accustomed to the layout of Smosh after a few months there, you still didn’t know the studio like the back of your hand yet—maybe like the back of your ring finger.
     You picked up your pace to a jog, passing office after office and set after set.
     You rounded a corner, seeing the hall that led to the room that held your belongings.
     You slowed down only a little as you pushed open the door to your final destination and—
     Slam!
     The door stopped mid-open as its momentum was stopped by the object you had hit with the door.
     No, not object. Person.
     You heard a cry from the other side of the door and you rushed through the doorway.
     “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you hurried out, seeing a man on his back as he pushed himself up from the ground.
     “I forgive you, but my nose might not,” the man said, letting out a wry chuckle.
     You offered him your hand and he took it, pulling himself to a standing position.
     “But,” he said, “no real damage done.”
     Now that he was standing in front of you, you got a good look at the man.
     And wow.
     He was wearing a long-sleeved black silk shirt and gray slacks, his outfit hugging his tall, toned frame. His hair was tousled, no doubt from making contact with the ground, and a curl fell onto his forehead.
     You couldn’t believe you’d whacked someone so attractive with a door.
     You caught yourself staring and quickly cleared your throat, looking around the room.
      “Well,” you said, “I was coming in here to get my glasses, and I guess I need them more than I thought. Sorry again for attacking you.”
      The man laughed, “Don’t worry about it. You just made my day that much more exciting.”
      You smiled. “I, uh, don’t remember seeing you at work before. Are you new here?”
      You were standing here, trying not to blush from the embarrassment of what you’d just done and from the way he was looking intently into your eyes—you might as well try to get to know the man.
      An amused look passed over his face and his eyes danced with an inside joke that you didn’t quite get.
     “You could say that, yeah. I guess you could say it’s my first day here at Smosh”
     Great, you thought. His first day and this was how he was greeted.
     “Well, welcome to Smosh,” you gestured around you at the scene that had just played out. “We have one hell of a welcome committee.”
     “I’ll say,” the man said, his eyes roaming over you before landing on your eyes.
     Now it was impossible to stop the heat from flooding your cheeks, you only hoped he had the good grace to pretend not to notice.
     “So, um,” you got out, “are you cast or crew?”
     “Both,” the man said, after a minute, “I’m kinda going to be doing both. 
    “Well,” you said, “If you ever need anything, I’m here to help.”
     “I’ll take you up on that then,” he said, putting a hand in his pocket. “I just might need you.”
     “‘Course I’ve only been here for a few months myself,” you told him, “You may be better served by one of our older members.”
     “And if I insist on you?” The man stepped closer to you.
     “Well then,” you said, breathlessly, “I guess I can’t stop you. I hope I get to see you around.”
      “Ditto, ” he sent you a grin. “And not just because I like looking at you.”
     You raised an eyebrow, willing your cheeks to calm down. 
     “You’re not to bad yourself,” you shot back. “Or, I’m assuming you you weren’t. Before the door accident.”
      He shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.”
      You checked your watch. You had already been here talking to this man for much longer than you thought. It was corset to go back and forth with him, you’d almost forgot the reason you’d been here in the first place. You didn’t want to be late for the shoot, as fun as this was. 
     “Well,” you started, sticking out your hand, “I better be going. But it was nice to meet you. I’m (Y/n), by the way.”
     “I’m—” The man started, looking conflicted as he took your hand in his, “I meant to ask you, is there a sign in sheet somewhere? I couldn’t find it when I came in.”
     His hand lingered on yours a bit longer than necessary before he pulled away. You supposed you could take one tiny detour before heading back.
   “Right this way,” you smiled before turning around and letting him follow you.
     You spoke as you walked. “We used to keep it by the entrance, but ever since we remodeled it kind of got shoved into a storage closet. Which is a lot more out of the way for everyone, but no one moves it back.”
     You turned around, grinning at him. “You’ll find we’re very efficient here.”
     You found the man looking at you, amused. You furrowed your brow at him, but he gestured for you to lead the way, so you turned around and kept walking.
      “And voila,” you said, reaching the storage room. “The jewel of Smosh.”
     You led him into the room, piled high with supplies and old costumes and props no one used anymore. You cleared some items off a table, uncovering the sign in sheet that legally you were all supposed to use every day.
     “You’ll find that some people,” you gestured to the piece of paper on the clipboard. “Don’t actually sign in.”
     You picked up a pen, hurriedly writing your name down. The man chuckled.
     “I bet those people are annoying,” he teased.
     You noticed how close he was standing to you. There was inches between you now as you talked. 
     You had a sudden mental imagine of him closing the gap between you. You shook it off. 
     You just met him! You told yourself. But, why did it feel like you’d known him much longer?
     “Very,” you almost whispered. You handed him the pen.
     “And also incredibly sexy,” he said, taking the pen from you, your fingers grazing.
     Your breathing hitched as he turned to fully face you, looking down into your eyes. 
     “(Y/n)?” He said.
     “Yeah?” You breathed.
     “Stop me if this is too forward,” he leaned towards you slowly and before you could think twice you pressed your lips to his.
     And then you were kissing him. One of his hands found its way to you hat and and the other was wrapped around your waist. 
     You placed your arms around his back as he kissed you.
     This was all moving so fast, you thought. But somehow, it didn’t seem wrong. 
    Suddenly, you were lifted from the ground as he set you down in the table, deepening the kiss as you wrapped your legs around him.
     You took your hands from him and used them to prop yourself up in the table. Your left hand landed on something hard and sharp.
     You winced and the man pulled way, looking at you searchingly.
     You pulled the object from where it had met your palm, lifting it up to show him. 
     “Well,” you said, looking down at it and laughing, “I guess this broken clock has had enough kissing for one day.”
     “Way to kill the mood, man,” he addressed the clock.
     Clock. A sudden though hit you, now that you were able to think again. You were so going to be late.
     You stood up quickly. “I have to go.”
     “Damn, I was that bad? You could’ve just said so.” He teased. 
     “No,” you waved it away, “Not at all. I’m just going to be late for a shoot. I better run.”
     “Well,” the man said, kissing your hand, “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, (Y/n).”
     “Ditto,” you said, echoing his earlier comment before smiling and walking out the door.
     Well, that just happened, You thought to yourself as you hurried back to set. It wasn’t ever day you kissed people you hardly knew in the storage room.
     As you pondered this, you realized you never had learned his name. 
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
     You plopped down in between Angela and Shayne, still thinking of nothing but your interesting encounter earlier even though it had been hours.
      You had just made it to the Who Meme’d It shoot, after running though the building, and managed to divert everyone’s questions on where you had been. 
     Now that it was over, you and many of your other cast mates sat in the main studio, apparently watching whatever video was being filmed in there.
     “So,” Shayne turned to you, gesturing at the set, “Did you get a chance to meet Anthony before this shoot?”
     You turned your head towards where he had pointed. Ian was sitting down next to the man you had met prior to this, deep in a discussion with him. Your heart leapt when you thought of him.
     “Who?” You asked, only partially paying attention to this conversation. 
     Shayne pointed at the man next to Ian. The man who you had just been making out with in a storage closet.
     “Anthony. You remember Anthony, right? Bought Smosh. Owner of the company. Your boss.”
     You looked towards the set. Bought Smosh. This was the video Angela had been referring to. 
     Which meant that was—
     Owner of the company. Your boss. Anthony. 
     Your mystery man was Anthony.
     You had just kissed your boss.
     “That’s Anthony?” Your voice came out as a squeak.
     “Yeah,” Shayne said slowly, his brow furrowed. “Who did you think he was?”
     “That can’t be Anthony!”
     “What?”
     “That can’t be Anthony, because I just made out with him!” You whisper yelled.
     “You what?” Angela and Shayne said in unison. 
     “He told me he was new here, I didn’t know who he was!” You defended.
     “How could you not know what Anthony looked like?” Shayne asked, baffled.
     “I don’t know,” you shot back, “He’s been gone for like six years!”
     “You don’t watch our videos?” He said incredulously.
     “Is ok, neither do I,” Angela leaned over, piping in.
     “I watched a few before I auditioned,” you said, remembering. “And sometimes I watch some of the ones I’m in…”
     You trailed off.
     “Wow,” Angela shook her head, “You kissed Anthony Padilla. Before some of us even met him. There goes my shot at a raise.”
     “What do I do?” You asked them, biting your lip.
     “Well, I’d suggest you start by talking to him,” Shayne advised, pointing to the front of the room.
     The shoot for this video was just ending—it must have been almost over by the time you walked in—and you watched as the director called cut and everyone began to disperse.
     You saw Anthony walk off set and begin to talk to a couple crew members. 
     Shayne was right—you would have to talk to him eventually. You stood up and walked over to where Anthony was standing.
     You waited until he was done with his conversation before going up to him.
     “You’re Anthony Padilla,” you said.
     He raised his hand in the air. “You caught me. I figured you’d find out eventually.”
     “But why?” You asked, “Why let me believe you were a new Smosh member.”
     Anthony rubbed a hand behind his neck. “Well, technically I am new here. Reborn—like a phoenix.”
     You giggled and he continued.
     “And, you know, I kind of liked the idea that someone here didn’t know who I was. No pre-judgements or beforehand knowledge. To you I wasn’t ‘the guy who left and came back’. I guess I liked that you knew me as me, the guy you hit with a door and not Anthony Padilla.”
     “I don’t know about that,” you teased, “Just because I didn’t know what you looked like, doesn’t mean I haven’t heard stories about you.”
     “And I’d love to hear all of them,” he said, stepping closer, “say on Friday at around six?”
     “Anthony,” you said, using his name for the first time, “We can’t do this. You’re my boss, in case you forgot.”
     “One of the perks of owning your own company,” he whispered, “is that I can do this.”   
     He leaned down and kissed you gently on the lips before pulling away, his eyes teasing. 
     “With your consent, of course. And I’d love to see you again—if you’ll allow me to.”
     You giggled. “I’d like that a lot.”
     Anthony brushed the hair back from your face and kissed you one last time before stepping backwards a few steps.
     “So,” he said, “I’ll see on Friday then.”
     He took a few more steps, gesturing to the doorway behind him.
     “That is, if you don’t kill me first.”
     You smiled as the memory of earlier that day resurfaced and you watched as Anthony turned around and strolled out the door, passing Chanse as he did so.
     Of all the ways you’d imagined your first meeting with Anthony going, this certainly wasn’t one of them. 
    Who knew the infamous Anthony would end up being your mystery kisser and then your boss who you were going to continue seeing.
     You looked over to Angela and Shayne. Angela shot you a big thumbs up and Shayne shrugged and nodded as if to say ‘hey, go for it’ 
     You couldn’t believe the turn your day had taken. 
     You took a deep breath. You didn’t know what was going to happen from here, but you knew you were damn excited to find out.
     You looked up as Chanse walked over to the center of the room, continually glancing over his shoulder with a confused expression.
     “Ok,” he said, “does someone want to tell me who the hell that is?”
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed my loves!! check out my anthony hcs if you want more like this 🫶
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heybrownieboy · 19 hours
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: YOU’RE ONLY HUMAN
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POV: Written. 2nd Person.
— Word Count: 1.6K
Author’s Note: It’s been 10 whole days since I’ve updated😬 I am so sorry. There was a lot of things going on in my life that I barely had ANY time for myself or to actually be able to write😭 But now everything is sorted out and I will be able to get back into making this regularly. Also, the accounts in orange in the taglist cannot be tagged :(
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“What movie should we watch?” Nicholas asked.
“Twilight?” Lily suggested. 
A chorus of groans erupted amongst your friends. 
“Hell no,” Matthew said, “I can’t sit through them again.” 
Lily huffed, folding her arms across her chest with a defiant pout. You bit back at laugh at her antics, thoroughly amused. 
You and your six other friends— Nicholas, Lily, Matthew, Huening Kai, Jay and Natty— all sat in the Huening family’s home theater. It was alway the destination for your group’s weekly movie night. 
“American Psycho?” Kai asked. He was flipping through the heavy DVD binder you had brought over. 
“You and Y/N are the only one into movies like that,” Natty said. 
“It’s a classic!” Kai and you exclaimed at the exact same time. 
“That’s considered a classic?” Lily asked. 
“To Millennials and Gen Z, probably,” Jay said, shaking his head.
“The Human Centipede?” you asked with a smirk.
Lily, Natty, and Matthew all shot you disgusted looks. You couldn’t help but laugh at them and held up your arms in mock defense.
“Sorry,” you said. “I forgot not everyone has taste.” 
“Taste?” Nicholas asked exasperated. “Nothing about liking The Human Centipede screams ‘taste’.”
“My sister’s ex forced me to watch it in eighth grade,” Matthew recounted with a grimace. “I had nightmares for a week straight.” 
“Weak,” you taunted. 
“I was fourteen!” 
You giggled, hopping out of your seat and walking over to where Kai, Natty, and Nicholas were with the binder. 
“Why are all of these horror?” Natty grumbled, flipping another section of the binder. 
“Because that’s all Y/N watches,” Nicholas said.
“It’s the best genre,” you said. 
“Don’t you have enough horror in your life?” Lily asked. “Dealing with ghost and demons on a daily basis?”
You shrug. “Maybe that’s why I like it? It’s familiar.” 
“Tusk and Ichi The Killer is familiar?” Nicholas asked eyeing at the movies that were nestled next to one another.
Kai snorted in amusement. “She has dealt with spirits of murders before.”
“Honestly they’re some of the easier spirits to deal with,” you said, scanning over the DVDs.Your eyes landed on a certain one. I don’t think any of them have seen that before.  “What about The Autopsy Of Jane Doe? It’s actually really good. It was made by the same person that made The Last Voyage Of The Demeter.”
“I’m down,” Matthew agreed.
“Sure why not,” Jay said.
A few minutes later, Kai had everything set up and you were plopping yourself down in-between Lily and Jay with a big bowl of fresh popcorn. 
But it was about half way through the movie when you felt something enter the house. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes in mild annoyance. 
“Why is it every time I go somewhere, something has to crash?” You grumbled quietly, hopping up.
I really can’t just have one night? Damn. 
Kai paused the movie and looked over at you. “Is something here?” he asked.
You nodded. “It’s in the bathroom,” you said, nodding to the exit of the theater. The bathroom was right across the hall. 
Nicholas started to stand but you waved him off. “It’s fine. I’m pretty sure it’s human.”
“Yell if you need the holy water,” Nicholas said.
“Will do.” Your eyes flicked to the huge screen the movie was paused on and you sighed. “You guys can keep watching the movie. Whatever this is might take a while.”
“You sure?” Lily asked. 
“We can wait,” Natty said. 
You shook your head and started for the door. “I’ve seen it before a few times. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back.” 
The second you stepped foot into the bathroom tough, you were hit by an overwhelming strong aura. It threw you off balance for a moment but, you were able to catch yourself. 
It’s almost like Lee Minho’s aura, you thought to yourself. But it’s different. More severe. 
You squared your shoulders and eyes scanned across the bathroom.“Why don’t you show yourself, hmm?” you urged, pulling the door shut behind you. “You are here for me right? I’d like to know who I’m talking to.” 
The spirit’s aura wavered slightly— almost hesitantly. “I guess I can do that,” a raspy, deep voice said. 
You watched curiously as the spirit materialized in front of you, its aura becoming even more intense than before. Now why did that look like something out of a sci-fi movie?
You eyed the man now visible to you. He stood a few meters away closer to the bathroom’s window. He was shorter in stature with pretty honey toned skin and fluffy black hair. His big eyes were a deep chocolate brown and his round cheeks added to his cute appearance. He wore a torn up green plaid pajama set that was covered in mud and blood. A deep gash wrapped around his neck and was surrounded in splotchy bruises purple and blue bruises. You scrunched your nose at the sight of the infected wound, your stuff feeling a little queasy. 
He’s just like Lee Minho.
Your eyes then widened in realization. Slowly, you dragged them down to look at his limbs. Heavy iron balls and chains latched on to every one. Just as you had expected.
So he’s…
“You know who I am, don’t you?” the spirit asked.
“Han Jisung,” you breathed. 
Jisung nodded and gave you a small, tired smile. He lifted his arm, the heavy chain clanking loudly. “Minho-hyung has these too,” he said. “They’re really annoying. So heavy and for what?” 
“In my premonition you didn’t have any,” you said, voice quiet. 
“Premonition?” 
“You were running from hellhounds. You almost made it to Purgatory but…” 
Jisung grimaced. “I gotta go through that again, huh? Not surprised. Hey, maybe third time is the charm.”
“Jeongin had a dream about it too,” you said. “But that was eight months ago.”
“He did?” Jisung asked surprised. “Is that why he came to the mountains in the middle of the night?” 
You nodded, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “He doesn’t really remember how he got there or most of his hike through the forest. He snapped out of it when he heard you calling for him.”
Jisung clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Those things were playing games with him,” he said. 
“Wait, things? As in multiple?”
“We made a contract with three of them,” Jisung said. “We don’t know what they are but we were so desperate we acted like dumbasses and agreed.”
“You have no idea what they are?” 
Jisung shook his head. “All I can say is that two of them aren’t human,” he said. “The other one… I don’t really know. He’s still a living person so, I guess he is.” 
You stared at him shocked. “Living? You made a contract with a living person? Was it a warlock? A shaman?” 
“Maybe? Um, he did do a few spells and rituals. But I honestly don’t know what exactly he is either.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed. “That just makes things worse.”
A lot worse.
“Jeongin asked you for help, didn’t he?” Jisung asked after a moment.
You nodded. “Minho’s been haunting him for a little while and he asked for my advice. He tried a knocking method to talk to him and well…” 
Jisung hummed. “We didn’t want to get him involved,” he said. “We didn’t want to get anyone involved. But when we broke the binding spell to the mountain, Jeongin’s apartment was the only familiar place we could actually enter for awhile. We’ve only just been able to enter other buildings.” 
“Binding spell?” You asked, more to yourself than the man across from you. You sucked in a breath. “Okay, so this contract you made, what was it?” 
“To be resurrected.” 
You stared at him, mouth opened in shock. “Huh?!”
Sheepishly, Jisung rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah I know,” he said. “It was insanely stupid. The living guy was the one that told us he could help. He found our bodies after we were murdered. He told us we could come back to life but we’d have to do a few, uh… things first.”
You let out a soft sigh. “It’s stupid yes. But, you’re only human. Most people would accept an offer of resurrection in a heartbeat.” You rolled your shoulders. “So what were these things you had to do?” 
“It was like a trial,” Jisung said. “First, we had to make it to escape Purgatory.” 
“Escape Purgatory?” 
“It’s not as easy. Easier than escaping hell but still very difficult. The hellhounds are everywhere along the boarder. They hunt down anyone who tries to get in or out without permission. If they succeed, you’re sent straight to hell. If they fail, Azrael comes and personally sends you to hell. It’s practically impossible to escape him.” 
“But you have, haven’t you?” you asked. 
Jisung nodded. “Once,” he said. He grimaced. “When they said biblically accurate angels are actually terrifying, they really meant it. I was more afraid of him than of the hellhounds.”
I was too.  
“What happens after that?”  
“We had to sell our souls,” Jisung said. “Originally, it was only a quarter. But we were deceived. They took half instead.” 
So I was right. That’s why their aura is so overwhelming and dark.
Jisung opened his mouth to continue but halted. You watched as his body tensed up, eyes widening almost comically. 
“Shit!” he hissed.
“What’s wrong?” you asked. “What’s happening?”
“They’re back already,” Jisung said, He looked around the room frantically. “I thought I would have a lot more time to speak with you. But if they see I’m gone, God only knows what they’ll do.” His eyes connected with yours. “Go to Minho-hyung. Please. He’s with Jeongin and he will explain all the rest to you. We really need your help, Y/N.” 
And with that, Jisung was gone.
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Of Chaos And Spirits Masterlist
Taglist (Open): @lily-loves-kpop @f9clementine @bookswillfindyouaway @lilyuwon @kpopjackie @i-dont-know-me-either @tirena1 @velvetmoonlght @whiteghostt @iambangchanswife @mehli-00 @chantalkkate16 @briar-rose23 @fic-for-readers
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©️heybrownieboy 2024
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pavo-ocxllus · 1 year
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THIS MAN IS SINGLEHANDEDLY GONNA MAKE ME OLAY GENSHINAGAIN
oh and happy 300 followers hehe
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crowcryptid · 11 days
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Swamp reclamation in progress
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try-set-me-on-fire · 6 months
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Recorded the opening scene of all the work that needs to be done in my car before work for funsies…
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jaanii · 2 years
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i hate this i hate this i hate this
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arthur-r · 2 months
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actually so relieved to run into this weird vent art from like a week before my partner broke up with me and remember how i was actually profoundly unhappy when we were together. like i literally would have broken up with him within the next couple weeks probably. all it would have changed if he hadn’t broke up with me would be that a valentine’s day together would be a lasting painful memory. whereas our relationship is nearly managing to comfortably fade into background noise.
#this art is weird which is why i never posted it shdhdf but i figure it goes along with self-actualization/the silly stupid angel song#i remember the same time i drew this i had drawn a monster based off my now-ex (it’s in a notebook somewhere)#and i just kept drawing and giving it more evil attributes and thinking why am i doing this it’s supposed to be my partner#but like. my subconscious fucking knew. he was basically a demon feeding on my life force#anyway i’m a fan of the bloody keyhole in my chest cause that’s so real#i love when i write or draw something and then like. months later i finally get to the realization that i subconsciously clearly highlighte#like yeah he’s demanding symmetry from me (golden ratio) and fucking clawing to get to my secrets (keyhole) and expecting me to be this#idealized and appealing figure but also refusing to give me any actual affection in response like i’m just a fucking statue to stare at#and then idk i’m bleeding golden blood because WHY NOT shdhdf maybe there’s symbolism i figure out later but i think that part’s just rad#oh and of course a halo like from THAT ONE GUY WHAT IS HIS NAME paintings#i want to say like giorgio but that’s not right. WHO IS THE GUY WHO PAINTS THE GOLD HALOS#GIOTTO i looked it up it’s my best friend giotto!!!! i can’t believe i turned my back on him…. forgot his name…. anyway i love his halos#and i was halfheartedly emulating that while i was drawing shdhdf. so anyway that’s the story of this whole thing#but no it’s so good to notice that actually i was discontented and needed to break out of the pattern. cause like i don’t think i fully#understood that i’m ALLOWED to end something i’m not happy with. so even though i deserved to i wouldn’t have done it. so it’s a lesson now#i’m aware that it’s something i’m able to do and something that i should have done. and i’ll do it earlier next time. ANYWAY sorry for this#ex talk#vent cw#i’m so normal i promise. i’m actually getting really normal about it genuinely though. basically fine kinda sorta almost. shdhdhdf#anyway i hope everybody is doing well. sorry for just throwing stuff around every once in a while and being otherwise absent#lmk if you need anything anytime!!!! love and light /gen#me. my post. mine.#delete later#ask to tag
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exopelagic · 3 months
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i will not panic abt my exams
#it will be fine actually#I’m stressed bc they’re in. a month now like a month from today and I’ll be done#but that just means I have a whole month to be making notes I can do a lot in a month#I’m going home on Friday which is stressing me out but it’s just one week I’ll go Friday and leave Saturday/Sunday#and if I can do a handful of lectures while I’m at home that’ll be a useful step no matter what#i can probably focus on like molecular ones which are easier to structure bc I just need to pull out the mechanisms#tomorrow I just gotta read up on two topics really and then I can write the dumb mock exam which I won’t be able to do at home bc its 4 hour#I hate that we have to do that especially bc it’s got shit evil questions but whatever#and I can’t feel bad abt being slow to get back into this bc im an animal with a body and it takes a while to get back into Anything#and I’m worried abt the exam yes bc of how it went last year when I was unprepared but 1) I won’t be THAT degree of unprepared this year#2) it is unlikely that i get as insanely unlucky as I did last year#fucking hell I just. don’t think I’m made for this kinda system I can’t make myself work in it#every single term of my degree so far I’ve been fighting to keep up with everything and had no time to properly prepare for the exams#and then scraped it by working off a baseline level of being good at putting ideas together quickly and strategically working last minute#on whatever will give me the best shot at getting what I need but that’s not possible in these two exams bc I have over 100 lectures to know#I can’t do 100 lectures in a month. it’s just not possible but what I can probably do is summarise some important bits for like half of them#I think I’m bad at the whole sustained effort on a big task over a long period of time#bc this is so huge that there’s no way for me to see progress or move on to anything new bc it’s just. a stack of 100 lectures to deal with#I HOPE I’m better at dealing with project next year bc i think it’ll be more task based#and like I can watch the lectures the first time round bc there’s a set thing to do and an end point#I have genuinely no idea how to approach this in a way that will be useful achievable AND get enough done within the time I have#anyway I can’t stress abt it now bc I have to go to the shop and then home to cook. so#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#luke.txt
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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.
So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.
Lurkers really are great, tho
I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.
Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.
The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.
Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.
There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.
I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 
I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.
I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.
So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.
But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.
I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.
Should we gatekeep fandom?
I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--
A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.
That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.
See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.
So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.
The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.
And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”
Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.
Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.
And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.
However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 
I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.
And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 
And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)
But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.
Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.
Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.
Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 
While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:
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[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 
OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]
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“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.
I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.
It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 
So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.
And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.
So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.
Think of it like a garden gate
When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.
The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 
Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 
Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.
My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.
But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.
I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.
Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.
And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.
Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.
There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.
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abbyshands · 5 months
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hers only
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└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
synopsis; gf!abby does not like clara, the gym trainer who can’t keep her hands off you. so who’s surprised when she loses her composure, channeling her rage in the form of rough, hard sex?
pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader
warnings; abby’s jealous as fuck, a little toxic!abby but not really, use of a strap-on, abby refers to the strap as her dick/cock, and strap is referred to as her dick/cock, throat-fucking (with fingers), fingering, choking, pretty rough sex, degrading (slut/bitch/whore, etc), a little praise, use of baby/honey, one use of y/n BEFORE the smut (sorry, it was necessary), spanking, reader cries, abby gives reader a sensory overload, dumbfucking, etc
a/n; hello! my name is kitlyn, kit for short :) i’m a huge writer, and tlou is my latest obsession. so, ofc, i had to get this fic out for my gf, and much more to come. i hope you like this, and if you have any ideas for me to write, please lmk!
p.s.; your daily reminder (or a fun fact), abby canonically bench presses 205 pounds. i rest my case <3
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
she could only make it a few weeks before her annoyance got the best of her.
you were bulking up for an upcoming mission, assigned to you by issac. in the area you would be in, scar presence was heavy, and you wouldn’t be back to the wlf for a bit, so gaining muscle was a necessity.
abby just wished she didn’t have to watch that girl’s hands all over you to get the job done.
she didn’t understand why she couldn’t train you herself, why issac wouldn’t fucking let her. he waved her off, giving her some bullshit about “a lack of focus.”
come on. if she knew you needed to bulk up, if it meant it would keep you safe, she wouldn’t lose her focus just because it was you.
maybe.
but this was the replacement. some other girl in the wlf, hands all over you as she helped you do pull-ups. your body was covered in sweat, and you had been at this for over an hour. the girl, whose name was clara, had her hands on your hips as you lifted yourself up and over the bar again and again.
“c’mon, give me ten more. you got it,” clara said. you were looking at yourself in the mirror as you let out a grunt with each pull-up you did, on your tenth at this point. but you did your best to push through.
“clara,” you groaned. “i can’t fucking—“ you began. but your trainer cut you off.
“don’t use your breath. just keep going. i’ve seen you do it before. you got it,” clara said once more, tone firm. you didn’t think it would be a good idea to deny her. so you went on.
but you were fully oblivious to the pair of blue eyes fixed on you across the room.
you had forgotten that abby also worked out around this time to lift with manny, so it didn’t even occur to you that she was gazing at this whole thing like a hawk.
“abs!” manny said to abby, accent thick. he snapped his fingers in front of abby’s face, and abby looked at him both confusedly, but also annoyedly.
“huh? what, what is it?” abby asked. she had fully spaced out, and her cheeks were red. but it wasn’t because of the workout.
it was your fucking trainer.
“estás bien? i lost you a few minutes ago,” manny said. abby had gotten used to his habit of going back and forth from spanish to english, to the point where she knew a thing or two. so she easily responded.
“yeah, i’m fine. let’s just finish for today, okay? i’m not feeling it,” she excused. but manny could see where her eyes were.
you.
“ah,” manny said. he seemed to understand now, a look of comprehension across his face as he said that. “okay. i’ll see you back at the room, then, sí?” manny asked as he held his fist out.
abby did the same and gave him the small fist bump he was looking for. “yeah, see you.”
once manny had left, abby began to pack up her gym bag. by now, you had finished your pull-ups, and were taking needy gulps from your water bottle. clara gave you a small pat on the back once you had finished drinking.
“that was good. you got any more in you?” clara laughed.
you smiled at her, shrugging. “not sure. i’ve gotta meet my girlfriend soon,” you said. really, it was in an hour or two. but you’d have to shower, change, etc. so, to you, it was soon.
nevertheless, you figured a bit more couldn’t hurt. so, you said, “but i think i can do a few more reps.”
clara just gave you a nod. each time you would bring up this girlfriend of yours, her demeanor changed like that. she’d tense, and pause her words.
you knew what it seemed like, and obviously, you didn’t like clara. but you did kind of need her.
and besides, if abby—fuck, if abby knew? it'd be a fucking field day to say the least.
you ended up choosing back squatting as a way to finish off your session with clara. you ducked your head under the bar, elbows flexing as you removed it from the rack. you caved a little under the heaviness of it, but with clara’s reassurance, you did your best to move.
clara put her arms under yours as you held the bar behind your back. she squatted along with you, body behind yours as she spotted you.
you could only make it ten or so reps before you failed on the eleventh, much to your surprise, as it had never happened to you before. clara put her hands on your chest quickly, and helped you move the bar back up to the rack.
“sorry,” you whispered in a huff, face red from the tension your body had just undergone. clara’s front pressed to your back for just a moment, and you felt a little uncomfy. she had spotted you before while doing a back squat, but not once did you fail one, forcing her to really touch you like that.
“it’s okay, it’s okay. you did fine,” clara smiled. this time, she put a hand on your shoulder, way too close for comfort. and then, she murmured to you, her own face red. “i’m proud of you.”
oh, that was fucking it.
abby discarded her gym bag on the floor. she tossed it somewhere. she would grab it later. but she couldn’t fucking watch this anymore. who the hell did this girl think she was, hands all over you like that? and who knows what she was saying to you? that was abby’s fucking job.
and hers only.
“y/n,” an all too familiar voice said from your left, and you didn’t need to look to know who had spoken.
you were thinking, my savior, once abby’s voice filled your ears. but when your eyes moved to hers, you were sure your soul left your body.
because she looked pissed.
clara moved her hand off your shoulder, and you hated the way she did it—like the two of you had been doing way more than just working out.
“grab your shit, we’re leaving,” abby said firmly to you, and she couldn’t help but send a small glare clara’s way. you weren’t the only one feeling scared, because clara was pale as a ghost. she had known you had a girlfriend, obviously.
but it was abby fucking anderson?
neither you nor clara said a word as you packed up your gym bag. once you had, abby was grabbing you by the waist, and yanking you out of the gym, leaving clara far, far behind you.
“abs—“ you tried, you really fucking did. but abby didn’t want to hear it.
“not a fucking word.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
manny knew better than to come back to the room once he saw abby eyeing you like that in the gym. it wouldn’t be the first, nor would it be the last, time that abby’s temper had ended in a room full of sex.
as soon as you were inside of the room, abby was grabbing your gym bag from your hands, tossing it far away, and kissing you aggressively. you responded with a whine, but let her, kissing her back with just as much passion. her hand gripped your neck as she all but slammed you onto the door, free hand running over your body like it was a temple she was born to worship.
really, it was.
abby put her free hand under your leg and held it up, pressing herself into you as her tongue battled yours. you moaned into her mouth as her grip on your neck compressed, her fingers digging into the soft skin of your thighs.
what a good day to have worn shorts…
when abby finally pulled back, your lips were spilling with drool, lips numb and plump from the belligerence in abby’s kisses. your whole face was hot, and abby’s face was red.
and, fuck, did she look mad.
abby smashed her lips back onto yours, and kissed you all the way to her bed. once there, she pushed you down onto it and got on top of you, her large thighs on either side of your lap.
if you weren’t in for it before, you surely were now.
abby reached her arm out to open the drawer of her bedside table, and it was only a moment or two before she was pulling out a very familiar item.
her strap.
“a- abs, wh- what are you—“ you began dumbly, way too curious to find out what it was she had in mind. but abby wasn’t feeling at all gracious.
you talk when she says you can.
“shut the fuck up,” abby damn near growled at you, the kind of tone she reserved for when she was really fucking angry. you had heard it many times before. when you were on a mission and battling scars. when issac reprimanded her for being careless in the field. when mel pissed her off one too many times.
bottom line, when shit didn’t go her way.
and the idea that she felt that way now both turned you on and scared the fuck out of you.
abby was quick to secure the strap’s harness to her waist. the view of the dildo attached to it always made your mouth fill with drool: black, veiny, seven and a half inches long. she’d made you cum with it so many times you lost count, and it was a million times better than the real thing.
especially when you had abby anderson on top of you, or behind you, or below you, encouraging you to take it like the good girl you were.
she grabbed your hips with fervor, forcing you to wrap your legs around her torso once your bottoms, and underwear, were out of her way. you let out a needy mewl as she slid the tip through your already wet folds, riling you up, just like that.
when your eyes closed as an answer, abby tutted, and moved one of her large hands down to grab you by the chin. “look at me,” she demanded.
and who the hell would you be to deny that?
your eyes were weak and needy as they met abby’s, pupils big with just a touch of fear, heart pounding in your ears. abby spoke firmly, and you could tell that she wasn’t playing around.
you had left fun and games behind the second you walked into this room.
“you’re gonna take this dick as much as i want you to, over and over again. n’ i’m gonna fuck you rough, ‘til you’re babbling out nonsense. do you hear me?”
your body felt paralyzed when those words left abby’s lips, her tone dripping in anger. you couldn’t manage much, and all you could do was nod. but she was not having that.
she squeezed down on your chin, which made you whimper out. “words.”
“y- yes, ma’am, i- i understand,” you weakly muttered out, and that seemed to suffice for her. abby let up on her grip, and her hand moved down from your chin to your lips.
“good. now suck.”
you didn’t delay. you opened your mouth for abby to push her fingers inside of it, index and ring beginning to fuck it. abby could feel your drool as she pumped the two fingers in and out of you, your tongue eagerly wrapping around them.
she doesn’t give a damn in the world as she pounds them to the back of your throat, making you gag, and your eyes close and roll back as she does so.
not for long.
“open your eyes. keep ‘em on me,” abby says in a rough tone, and you oblige a little too quickly. water’s already filling the corners of your eyes, and abby can see that when she looks at you.
and she’s barely begun.
“crying for me already, hm? why am i not surprised?” abby couldn’t help but mock you. you looked so feeble like this, choking on her fingers like the whore you were.
“i’d save your tears, honey. ‘cause there’s a lot more where this came from.”
just as you’re beginning to get used to the rough feeling of abby fucking your face with her fingers, she pulls them out, and you let out a small whimper of disapproval.
but it quickly blends into a moan.
her index and ring, the two fingers that you had just had your tongue around, that were soaked in your drool, pushed inside of you without so much as a warning.
“oh, f- fuck, abby,” you moaned as the suddenness of the moment took over your senses. your thighs clenched around her as she skillfully pumped her fingers in and out of your cunt, just as she had so many times in the past.
abby used her other hand to pry your thighs back open. “ah ah, baby. spread your legs for me.”
just when you figured this couldn’t get any more forceful, abby was pushing a third finger inside of you, her middle one, and using her thumb to rub your clit.
your response was way too fast as you grabbed one of abby’s broad shoulders, digging your fingernails into the freckled skin on it. you let out a loud moan as your eyes squeezed shut, letting it all sink in. three of abby’s fingers deep inside of you, pumping in and out of your wet pussy as she thumbed your clit like a fucking pro.
“fuckfuckfuck,” you groaned, and, god, did abby like that. barely begun with you, and you were already drunk off her touch.
but then again, that’s how it always went.
“look at you, fucking soaked for me. needy bitch,” abby degraded you mercilessly as she curled her fingers inside of you, easily hitting your g-spot.
“mmph, abby…” you could barely manage.
“hush,” she said harshly. your gaze moved up to hers as she fingered you, her usual pale blue eyes big, pupils enlarged. it was clear that she wasn’t letting up any time soon. “don’t talk unless i say you can.”
you didn’t.
abby had you soaking her fingers in your release soon enough, your orgasm spilling over you. she pulled her fingers out of you and moved them to her lips, leaving not even one drop behind as she sucked them dry. the view filled your abdomen with butterflies: that was for damn sure.
if this is how she made you feel with your fingers, you could hardly imagine her dick.
and abby didn’t delay. you didn’t get even a second to process before she was lining the tip of the silicone toy to your cunt, and pushing into you forcefully.
“abby, w- wait, fuck. t- too soon,” you whimpered, but you knew abby didn’t give a shit about what you had to say. she shushed you with her hand, putting her fingers past your lips once more.
“don’t care. you’re gonna take this cock like a good fucking girl,” she emphasized the word as she thrust into you hard. “and i don’t wanna hear shit. got that?”
you nodded, and didn’t try to speak again. you just did what abby wanted you to, sucking on her long fingers to keep you occupied while she pounded into your pussy.
“clara can’t fuck you this good, can she, baby?” abby rasped as each thrust grew more ravenous, both fingers pushing deeper.
so that’s what this was all about. well, really, you figured as much. you knew clara’s behavior would somehow bite you in the ass. but now that you had abby’s words to confirm it, you couldn’t be more sure.
you did what you could to shake your head, but let’s be real. it was abby fucking anderson. speechlessness was never an answer in her books. she took her fingers out of your mouth for the last time, eager to hear you talk now.
“say it.”
“n- no, abby. s’just you. s’only you,” your tongue slurred as the words left your lips, and abby couldn’t help but get off on the way you were speaking, a smug smirk on her face.
“mmhm. only i get to fuck this pretty pussy of yours, y’hear me?” abby let out in a grunt, her drool covered hand settling onto your neck, squeezing down. she was fucking you hard, no mercy as her hips thrust aggressively, pushing herself as deep inside of you as she could possibly go.
you were more than okay with that.
“y- yes, ma’am,” you let out a groan of your own as abby rutted her hips into you, eyes locked on hers. “i’m yours. a- all yours.”
you were a whining and whimpering mess as abby gave you a nod of approval, hand gripping your neck like it was her lifeline. “that’s a good whore. mine and no one else’s.”
“how do you think days like today make me feel, huh? fucking bitch with her hands all over you, gawking at you like you’re hers. well, let me tell you somethin’,” abby snarls. she pulls out of you, tip pressed to your folds, and for a moment, you think she’s going to make you beg for her to fuck you once more. but just like that, she’s slamming back inside, going, arguably, deeper than she had before.
“she doesn’t get to have you. no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good. no one’s ever gonna love you like i do. you’re all fucking mine, like it or not. got that?”
you’re not surprised by the aggression in her tone, but, damn, is she pissed. you can feel her anger seep into your skin as she fucks you like a toy, addresses you like a doll.
and you let her.
“m’sorry, abby, m’so sorry. i know i’m yours. i’m yours, swear to god i am. m’so sorry,” you moan dumbly as she squeezes your neck.
which you’re sure will have marks to show for it tomorrow.
“i know you are, baby,” abby rasps. her hand moves from her neck to your thigh now, and she digs her fingernails into it as she slams into you. “and you fucking should be.”
and again, abby has you cumming, her name rolling off your tongue like music as, this time, it’s her cock you soak in your release. “there you go, honey. know you like when i fuck this pussy like this. that’s it,” abby whispered.
your brain was way too foggy with the aggression of this session with your girlfriend to get your words out properly.
what was is it that abby had said about making you babble again?
“f- fuck, abby. oh, fuck,” you whined, body tired from receiving your second orgasm that evening. but abby was nowhere near done with you: both of you knew that.
abby didn’t speak as she pulled herself out of you, grabbing you by the hips and flipping your body over, so that you were no longer on your back. she forced you onto all fours, your ass poking up into the air. she yanks your bottoms fully off of you from behind, underwear following, and settles her hands onto your ass.
“abby, come on, please,” you all but cry out. you’re not sure how much you can take, not when it’s so sudden, anyway. abby’s anger is slowly going away, your caring girlfriend coming back little by little. but you weren’t quite there yet.
“you’ve got one more in you, baby, i know you do,” abby says softly, and she circles her thumbs over your ass. the move is almost loving.
“and you’re gonna take it, like the good slut you are. mkay?”
like you said. almost.
you grumble, but you can’t say no. not only did you not want to, but when it came to abby, that was one of the last things on your mind. probably. . .not a good idea. so, “mkay,” is what you say in response.
“good girl. can fuck you better like this, anyway,” abby hums. she begins to take your shirt off, and you lift your arms up to help her remove you tank top. and then, who’s surprised, she unhooks your bra with ease, discarding it on the floor somewhere.
the feeling’s familiar as abby pushes inside of your aching pussy once more. you’re sore and tired, brain fucked out from abby’s belligerence. but you need her, just as much as you need the very oxygen in your lungs.
and she needs you.
as if this isn’t enough, her arms move under yours, and squeeze each of your tits. it quickly reminds you of the way clara spotted you earlier, because that was one of the very things that had caused this in the first place.
but this felt so much better.
your eyes rolled back into your head as abby rubbed hard circles into your nipples, eager and needy to get you off for the third time in a row. she knew it wouldn’t be long now. each time she fucked you like this, round after round, your orgasms came in quick successions.
literally.
abby was pushing into your g-spot once again, and the feeling of it all was almost too much. if she wanted you to babble, then she got it: because there was no other way to describe the words spilling from your lips.
“a- abby, fuck, please don’t stop. you feel s- so good, f- fuck, please.” you weren’t making any sense by now, at least not to yourself. but abby knew what you wanted.
because she knew just how to please you.
“keep moaning, baby. you sound adorable,” abby chuckled as she fucked you, hips pushing deep into a spot you didn’t even know you had. “all cockdrunk off this dick, like the whore you are. my whore.”
she just had to add that. for good measure.
“tell me how much you like it. tell me how much you like it when i pound your pussy like this.”
you were licking your lips in the neediest way as she pressed her thumbs into your tits. you couldn’t help but push yourself back into her, that fucking needy for her. “i- i love it, abby. love it so much, fuck. you fuck me so good.”
abby moved one of her hands back from your tit and onto your ass, and gave you a small spank there. “fuck, yeah, i do. never gonna get it this good from anyone else, are you, baby? not clara, not any other bitch. just me, yeah?”
“mmph, mhm,” you murmured, and, fuck, were you on the brink. of course no one else could fuck you like this. no one could fuck like this period. some days, you wished the world could see just what abby anderson had to offer.
but that would involve a hell of a lot of sharing that you didn’t want to do.
“aw, i’m fucking you dumb, huh, baby? can’t even get a word out. dumb fucking slut,” abby smirked, slapping your ass one more time, then massaging the red mark with her thumb. “who do you belong to, hm?”
abby wasn’t wrong. your brain was fogged up, cloudy as she slammed into you from the back, and you couldn’t even see as your eyes rolled back into your head for the millionth time over. your words came out messy, drunken, incoherent. “i- i b—i’m—yours, i b- belong to—to you.”
you could feel your third orgasm bubbling up inside of you as abby pounded you from the back, and she had both hands on your tits once more, gripping both of them as she thumbed at your nipples. your face was hot, your lewd moans filling the room to the brim, as abby filled you.
“f- fuck, abby, don’t stop,” you whimpered out, and you had never sounded so broken before. “g- gonna cum.”
well, that much was obvious.
abby didn’t hold you back. she encouraged you with each thrust of her hips, every one increasing in speed with each second that passed by. she was a pro at this, and she knew it.
“that’s it, honey. cum on my cock, loud, like you mean it. wanna hear you scream for me,” she said with a small grunt, and she said it like it was a demand.
you obeyed.
you were yelling your girlfriend’s name as white spilled all over the silicone that was her dick, a series of pornographic moans falling from your swollen lips. your expression was just that, too: lewd, broken, because you had never been fucked like that in your life.
for the last time, abby pulled out of you, and unsecured the harness around her torso. once she put it to the side, she couldn’t help but put her fingers to your pussy for the last time, scooping a bit of your white release onto them. you shuddered as she did so, and looked behind you, just to see her suck her fingers off.
you lay limp on the bed as abby got up to grab a small towel. gingerly, she began to wipe your body clean, beginning with your thighs. she kissed up them as she did it, and it was so, so different to the way she had been manhandling you mere seconds beforehand.
that was abby for you.
once you were both clean, abby laid down beside you, and pulled you close to her body. she put her hands on your waist, and pressed a kiss to your forehead as you snuggled into her broad chest. you didn’t even feel awkward about the fact that you were the only one naked.
if abby didn’t care, then neither did you.
“you okay, baby? wasn’t too rough with you, was i?” abby asked, her thumb circling your cheek. you smiled up at her, a rush of butterflies soaring inside your abdomen at the small rasp in the way she cooed.
“no, abs. not at all. i mean, i always knew you got jealous, but—wow,” you couldn’t help your giggle.
abby feigned annoyance by giving you an eye roll, but you could tell that she was just being playful. besides, it’s not like she could deny the fact. so she smirked. “what can i say? you just have that effect on me. besides, you have to admit—clara was way too close for comfort.”
“mmhm,” you hum.
“but maybe that was a good thing.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
reblogs are very much welcomed <3
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There is so clearly a reason I’m studying history
#just went to a class helping with my anthropology essay#Jesus it’s more different than I thought#the whole ethnographic evidence I would not have to patience for it#the result is really interesting to read#but I also am not the biggest fan of very detailed specific examples#so that being a big thing in anthropology is not the best combo#so now I have to rethink like half my essay I think#also we have to include the senses and it just does not make sense for me#like I do not see the point in it??#it’s so vague?? and for the thing I wanna do it’s not really smt people have clearly looked at#ughhhh#why did I chose the interesting but difficult theme again??#but ​also I very clearly prefer East Asian history#bc my class on Catholicism went international yesterday and talked about China and Japan#and my interest was so much higher#I was think oh I know that guy and oh isn’t this that thing#googling further to see if I would be able to read this original document#all that jazz and so much more motivation to work o bc it#hmmmm idk what to do with this draft I have…#500 words is a lot but also not but also I write my drafts really shitty so I’m not sure I’ll get anything out of a peer review#but also I need to do it to get credit#oh fuck it I’m gonna do it like my usual sketchy stuff and someone else will have to suffer a bit for it#me#me in uk#uni life yay#also my professors came with examples and ideas and I just thought#okay that sounds really interesting now how the fuck am I supposed to fit that in 1500 words#also plz give me feedback for my bibliography bc I don’t think I did it correctly#so I really don’t wanna continue working on it before I know!!!!#ughhh
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loveluvrs · 2 months
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she's my pretty girl l lando norris x reader
request/summary – AHH HI MARYAM!!! it's shelbi:) i NEED a lando fic where he takes reader to the paddock for the first time and EVERYONE sees they totally like each other (but they complete oblivious idiots) — 🌟
author's notes – i loved writing this one!!! thank you to bff @keerysfreckles for the wonderful req <33 ALSO LANDO SPRINT POLE WOOOOO!!!!!
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My fingers hover over the send button. I sigh as I delete the message again. Lan, I don’t know if I can. There’s gonna be so many cameras and so many people and you know people will think we’re dating for sure, I text my best friend Lando.
Come on, pretty girl, I’ll be right there with you the whole time. I promise, he texts back.
:(( come over tonight for movie night and we’ll talk about it, I text as I felt the anxiety already growing in me.
Lando helps me set up movie night. Popcorn bowl in hand, I slot myself next to Lando, our hips touching as I slightly lean into him, placing the bowl in between us. “Time to talk?” He asks expectantly. I groan. “Oh come on, let me at least distract myself for a little bit before we start this headache of a discussion again,” I say as I scrunch up my face in playful annoyance. Lando laughs at this, placing a small kiss on the tip of my nose as he says, “okay miss dramatic.” 
I pout. “Lan, you know how my anxiety gets. And that’s just in general. With all those cameras on me? I mean, it’s gonna be suffocating,” I say with a nervous gulp. Just thinking about all the attention made me anxious.
He puts on a soft smile. “I know, pretty girl. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I just know you’ve been really wanting to go to a race, and I thought what better time than here in Silverstone so you don’t have to take any extra flights? But really, I won’t make you go unless you’re comfortable with it, alright?” He says softly with 100% focus and attention and determination in his voice. That was one thing I could always count on; if I was feeling anxious about something, no matter how small, Lando would be there to take me seriously and comfort me through it. 
“I want to be there for you, you know I do,” I say softly with a frown, “there’s nothing I want to do more than support my best friend, my favorite person, at his home race.” 
“Pretty pretty girl, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. I understand, okay? And I won’t think anything less of you based on whether or not you come. I’ll still love you all the same,” he says softly as he puts my hand in his and squeezes it to comfort me. 
——
The next morning, I showed up to the paddock a little late, since I had to curb an oncoming anxiety attack in the morning. I also hadn’t told Lando that I was going to be coming, so I had no idea where to go. By the time I reached, Lando was already in the car for the first practice session. 
After the practice session was over, Lando stalked back into the Mclaren garage, talking with his race engineer about some of the data they picked up. He stops in his tracks when he sees me and immediately engulfs me in a hug. His hands wrap around my waist and my arms wrap around his neck. 
“Hey! I didn’t know you decided to come?” He says with his signature bright smile as he held me close. I hum. “I was just a bit late in the morning, sorry about that,” I say softly. “Nothing to be sorry about, pretty girl,” he says softly as he places a soft kiss on the top of my head before letting me go. 
Since that moment, unless he was in a team meeting or in the car, Lando stayed attached by the hip to you. You couldn’t decide if it was comforting or overwhelming, to be honest. On one hand, he made sure to be there so he could explain everything to you and introduce you to everyone, and whisk you away when he felt like it was getting all too much for you. On the other hand, his presence meant a herd of cameras would almost surely follow my every move if I was with him. 
Oscar, for one, got a bit tired of the fact that every time he saw his teammate, Lando was too busy making heart eyes at you to even think about anything else. “Why don’t you just admit you’re madly in love with her?” He asks Lando with an exasperated sigh after the two of them are walking back from a media briefing. 
“She knows I love her,” Lando says casually. Oscar rolls his eyes and scoffs at the response. “Okay she knows you love her, but she doesn’t know you’re in love with her,” he explains. Lando gives Oscar a confused look. “Mate, you’ve just said the same thing twice,” he says as his eyes begin to scan the crowd for you. Oscar groans before walking off in frustration, wondering when on Earth these two idiots were gonna realize they’re both in love with each other. 
Later that evening, Lando and I walk into his hotel room after he was done with everything for the day. I lay down in the bed immediately, exhausted from all the socializing I had to do all day. Lando laughs at this, “sleepyhead,” he teases in a murmur. He takes a quick shower and changes into a comfy hoodie and sweats before coming back and laying on the bed next to me. I’m sat watching some spy movie on the tv. He tilts his head at the tv, “what’re you watching?” He asks curiously. 
“Honestly, no idea,” I say with a giggle, “I just saw that Theo James was in it so I had to watch.” Lando settles into bed as we watch. Eventually, he finds my gaze on him and his lap, which was clearly not as subtle as I wanted it to be. He nudges me playfully with his elbow. “C’mere,” he says softly as he pats his lap. I, who was clearly in my own thoughts, seemed to wake up out of my trance. “Huh?” I ask in confusion. He holds his arms wide for me, “come here and cuddle,” he says softly.
I waste no time before doing as he says, laying in between his legs, my back to his chest. His arms wrap around my waist and he places a soft kiss on my head. I hum in content as I relax into him. Lando always knew when I needed some physical affection, which was useful because there was nothing I hated more than having to ask for some love. “I love you,” he whispers as his face burrows into my neck, placing a kiss there. I’m about to respond when Oscar suddenly enters the room. “Hey mate, have you seen my- uh. Sorry, am I interrupting something here?” He asks as his eyes dart between Lando and I, and the extremely close position we seem to be in. 
“Nope! Just cuddling. What’s up?” Lando asks nonchalantly. Oscar’s eyebrows raise at Lando’s answer. “You know what, never mind, I think I know where I’ve left it,” he says as he slowly backs out of the room. 
“What was that all about?” I ask in confusion. “Hmm, who knows, he’s been acting weird all day,” Lando says as he resumes placing kisses on my neck and shoulder. “I love you,” he repeats again in a gentle tone. I hum. “I love you too,” I say softly. “I’m so insanely happy you decided to come to the paddock today, honestly,” he says in a quiet yet soft murmur, “don’t think I could be any happier than having my pretty girl with me.” “Why are you trying to flatter me?” I tease him with a giggle. He scoffs, “sorry. Didn’t know I couldn’t be nice to my best friend,” he retorts playfully.  
We go out for dinner an hour later with Oscar and Lily. I instinctively sat next to Lando as usual. I’m scrolling through Twitter while we wait for our food when I feel Lando’s hand intertwine with mine. I think nothing of it, but see Oscar and Lily exchange a glance towards each other. 
“You owe me 5 pounds,” Oscar whispered in a hushed voice to Lily with a sassy smile tugging on his lips. “No, you said 5 pounds for the heart eyes,” Lily whispers back defensively. “Oh come on, that’s basically the same thing! It’ll happen in a few minutes anyways,” Oscar whispers playfully. “I so badly wanted us to be proven wrong and for something to happen,” Lily says quietly to Oscar in a sympathetic voice. “They’re both idiots, I don’t think either of them will figure it out,” he says with a laugh. 
The laugh catches both Lando and I’s attention as we look up from our phones. “Hmm? Did you two say anything to us?” Lando asks curiously. “Oh, uh no. Don’t worry about it,” Oscar says with an embarrassed smile. The rest of the night goes by with hushed remarks from Oscar every once in a while every time Lando does something like giving me some of his own dish since my portion size was small, or when he asks if I’m okay after I drop the fork under the table and hit my head on the table when I try sitting back up, or when he just simply listens to me like I’m the only person in the room. 
——
“You’ve been staring at her for five minutes now,” Oscar says as Lando stares at you from across the paddock as you talk to Lewis. “Shut up,” Lando mutters as he tries to sound annoyed by utterly fails because he could never be annoyed while you were in his line of sight. 
I walk up to him a minute later, a bright smile on my face. “Guess what!” I say excitedly as Lando’s hand instinctively wraps around my waist. He hums. “Tell me what’s got you all happy, pretty girl,” he says with a soft smile.
“Lewis said that he’d take me out tonight to visit that new café I was telling you about, remember?” I say excitedly. Lando immediately frowns. “Lewis? Why didn’t you ask me to take you there?” He asks as he tries to not let his jealousy show. “Well I know you aren’t really into that type of thing, I looked at the menu and you wouldn’t have eaten anything there,” I say casually. 
“Well still. I don’t care. I’m coming with,” Lando said with a tone of finality. Suddenly Oscar started speaking. “Guys did you know theres a new movie coming out with Zendaya? The Jealous Man?” He says with a look towards Lando. Lando took the hint with an unamused expression on his face. “You know what? I think I’ve got a team thing tonight, so I’ll have to skip out. Sorry pretty girl, but have fun with Lewis, hmm?” He says softly. “You sure? We can wait for you if you want,” I say softly, not wanting Lando to miss out if he wanted to go. Lando shakes his head. “Nah nah nah, even if you wait, I’d be far too tired later,” I says as he takes my hand in his. 
——
Lando sat staring at his phone while he sits in his hotel room’s bed. He had tried everything to keep him occupied; working out, eating, the sim, talking to Oscar, facetiming Max, but nothing could keep his mind off of the thought of you and Lewis together. He groans as he caves in, texting you. 
pretty girlllllllllll, where are you? I miss you :(, he texts with clear desperation in his text. 
hi! Lewis and I are gonna go for a walk on the beach before heading back. Is that okay? I text, not wanting him to feel too lonely while I was gone. 
Lando sighed at my message. yeah don’t worry, pretty girl, have fun, he texts back, I love you. 
When I finally get back to the hotel, I’m exhausted. I kick off my shoes to find Lando already asleep. I get changed into some sweats and lie next to him. “Lan?” I whisper softly, “‘m sorry I was late, I know you missed me.” I sighed when I got no reply back, so I simply scooted towards him, my arms wrapping around him from behind. “I love you,” I whispered into the dark. I heard a slight grumble afterwards. “Love you too,” came a murmur from Lando. 
The next morning I met Lando and Oscar at the paddock before qualifying, but Lando seemed a bit distant. So I went up to him while he was talking to Oscar
“Are you mad I went out to spend time with Lewis instead of you last night?” I ask Lando in a quiet voice with a frown on my face.
Lando turned around to face me. “Oh, pretty girl, I could never be mad at you,” he says as his voice softens, “I love you. Just missed you, that’s all.” “You’ve been ignoring me this whole morning,” I say as my frown deepens. His entire body deflates at the sight of your frown. “No no no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to. Sorry if it felt like that,” he says softly as his hands wrap around my waist to give me a hug. “Love you,” he murmurs into my hair, “I promise.” 
Oscar rolls his eyes at the scene with an amused laugh. “Heart eyes, five pounds,” he mouths behind Lando, knowing that Lando would have melted the second you came into view. 
“God, these two will stay idiots forever,” Oscar muttered under his breath with a laugh as he looked at the very obviously love-stricken pair in front of him. 
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avenshine · 3 months
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troublemaker, i love the trouble! + ( hsr men )
requested! | what happens when you simply cannot stay out of trouble, and you feel like it’s becoming too much for your boyfriend?
warnings: hurt/comfort. never write for argenti/boothill before and written before his release, possibly ooc for both. longer than usual, please enjoy! <3
while he admires you, argenti simply cannot fathom how you always manage to get in trouble. even if you’re not always the start of it. it doesn’t bother him saving you, but it seems to get to you, a lot. no matter how many times he assures you it’s fine, you feel guilty. you apologize, and he understands — it’s fine, he insists. he sets up a cute dinner date for the both of you one day, trying to really help you see that everything is fine between you both.
dr ratio feels a little different towards this. while he understands things come with troubles, he would constantly quote “it’s more trouble than it’s worth”, he tries to not mean it too harshly, he wishes you could stay out. and at some point, you start to feel a little upset with that, feeling as if you’re bothering him. and of course, he picks up on this. he starts with an apology, “i’m sorry, i know you can’t help it; i’ll do my best to be more cautious of my words.
being a member of the ipc, aventurine knows the feeling of trouble following wherever you go. so he’ll try his best to get you out of it, or even try to be there to prevent it, but of course he gets busy with his work — so it’s not always possible. he does make sure to reassure you that you’re not bothering him by getting in trouble, as long as you can make sure, almost like a promise, you stay safe, he’ll do the same.
sunday is simply just concerned, constantly asking how you get into this, or that. and when you explain it, he sighs softly, wanting to just put you in bubble wrap or something, cause in the end, he just doesn’t want to see his precious angel hurt. as of recently though, you feel like you’ve been causing too much trouble around him, and that it’s a bother, and voice this to him. he immediately wraps you into a tight hug, kissing your forehead. he whispers to you, “my sweetest angel, you’re never a bother. i can promise, no, guarantee it, just please stay safe, okay? that’s my main concern.”
for his absolute darling, boothill will create the trouble with you (given it’s safe), he simply cannot help it, it’s the most fun he’s had in a while! at some point though, he stops. and you figure it’s because he’s tired of you as a whole, which is simply not the case. it isn’t until he pulls you aside, asking you if you were upset with him & many things along those lines. you shake your head, and he’s immediately comforted. but when you ask him in turn if he’s upset with you and that’s why he doesn’t wanna create trouble anymore, he repeats you, shaking his head before speaking. “my darling cutie, i just felt like stopping, but if you wanna, and it would make you feel better, we can stir some up right now!”
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analyzing some images (for fun)
so i found this pair of promotion images for good omens season 1 on the good omens reference library server and it’s hooked me so so bad im having feelings about it. we’re analyzing them now. not really for meta purposes just fun to see the parallels and differences :)
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everything under the cut !
unique traits
aziraphale:
1) his plank background. its older, its crisp, it smells like wood from the screen. mmmm
2) the pencil shavings at the bottom. he does a lot of writing honestly, so i like this. also adds a messy and cozy vibe he always seems to have in that shop…. i like that blessed shop fr
3) his SUSHI. little soy sauce drops near it too���just the right amount of deliberate mess. our first formal introduction to aziraphale in the present day and beginning the Tomfoolery just happens to have sushi... i watch that scene and i go “yeah, that sums up aziraphale i suppose” very nicely. (they dont have sushi Up There) (im literally never gonna forget that)
4) the ray of light shining on the scene. tiny thing, but a bit of the heaven is peeking through..it also sort of blurs the whole image but i think thats just me.
5) and we’ve saved the best for last: the big whopper. the nice and accurate prophecies of agnes nutter, witch. I LOVE THAT BOOK!!!!!!! i cant remember if that ring stain was there but if it isnt in the show on the actual book i’d assume thats to add that ‘thy cocoa doth grow cold’ thing. ALSO. you know what’s being used as a bookmark in the pages?? a check for the ritz. he bookmarked their one chance for living . with a ritz check . MMMMMM. my GOD. that means so much to me even if i cant convey it in words. he KEEPS THE CHECKS 😭😭😭😭😭😭
crowley:
1) let me get my favorite out of the way. crowley’s glasses have fire in their reflection. we’ll talk about the glasses themselves later but the REFLECTION IN THEM. fucking FIRE, BOOKSHOP fire, PAIN, SRIVING THROUGH THE M-25, HELL, I DONT KNOWIM HAVING FEELINGS!!! i do believe this is a bookshop fire reference though, the flames feel too Familiar. the lengths people will go to to attack others 🤧
2) the leather seat background!!!!!!! probably meant to look similar to the bentley’s seats but i cant recall their texture, exactly. maybe just meant to convey modernness—unsure. still, its there <3
3) the tiny little crisp plant </3 its trying his damned best to stay perfect. it might a specific plant that means something, but i cant tell at thsi angle, so i’ll assume its a mini version of the ficus he keeps in the flat. its so SMALL and sitting in ANOTHER POT i CANT
4) the snake slithering!! black and red (in this image it looks orange lol) bellied scales!!!! slithering there, chilling, being crowley, showing hints. love it
5) QUEEN RECORD!!!!! TRYING TO OVERRIDE IT WITH TCHAIKOVSKY!!!!!! the tape over it does a reminisence to crowley’s handwriting, but in a clean ‘this made made to be a font’ way. not exactly just yet. ive become a fan of tchaikovsky recently. amazing darling wonderful crowley, trying to push the rock up the hill for eternity 😞
6) HIS LITTLE DEMON KEY THING. HOLDING A TINY LITTLE BENTLEY CAR KEY OHHH. thats how he doesnt lose the tiny key despite probably not needing one of those. and he CHOSE that intentionally probably. little wings and red circle….URGHHHHHHH
similarities
mmmmm now here’s the good shit. similarities! i’ll bullet point most of them but ohhhhh. ohhhh these. i’ll go from top to bottom as best i can….
1) one of their shoes, obviously. crowley has them iconic snakeskin shoes while aziraphale has his old loafers like the old loafer he is /pos
2) chateauneuf de pape wine bottle labels! (crowley’s is under his glasses, aziraphale’s is next to his shoe). oh my fucking god theyre MATCHING. the labels are old, battered, of course labeling the drink’s age, but mmmmm its these tiny details that get me going….
3) their respective drinks in their mugs—crowley’s a black mug coffee (or what looks to be coffee) and aziraphale’s angel mug tea (or what looks to be tea). i think about that mug sometimes. where did he get that from?? mystery for the ages….
4) their glasses, of course. crowley’s iconic sunglasses and aziraphale’s reading spectacles. i cant really tell the reflections in this pair, but if its supposed to be fucking fire, im done with this. im giving up forever
5) their own watches! aziraphale’s is visibily older while crowley’s is visibly modern, but they function just the same. also, crowley’s is set to 2:56:59 (presumably PM), which is around the time we see when crowley starts checking his watch at warlock’s birthday party. its almost time for disaster to strike!! 😃
6) and finally….their ties!! they have their own ties!!! or more accurately, neck accessories, but i digress. i mesn i assume its crowley’s neck tie, because the fabric looks… different. either way, crowley’s neck thingie is very whispy and aziraphale has his funky little bowtie i love so much,,,
okay thats it. there’s no canonical implications, any fantheories, none of the sort. just saw a pair of images and my mind went GOD DAMN!!!!!! theyre very important to me. i need to look at more promo material 😔
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ja3yun · 5 months
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Undercover Lover | P.JS
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detective!jay x detective fem!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), !!rough!!, choking, throat fucking, tit slapping, pure filth, , jay gets like super angry (but he's secretly a sweet soul), swearing, slight mention of alcohol, not proofread.
wc: 9k+
synopsis: you've been forced to work with your work rival, park jongseong, on a case that could bust one of the biggest dealer in seoul, but things don't go according to plan.
(part 2)
a/n: hi! it's me, just giving you a little something while you wait for the sunghoon fic <3 this was originally part of a bigger plot but i didn't finish writing it. Also, if you've ever seen Just Go With It, the dinner scene might be a little familiar since i based it very loosely on it. i hope you like it, it's a bit rough and isn't the best well written because you know i thrive on lovey dovey simp men, regardless, enjoy!
“I cannot believe I got stuck with you on the assignment”
“Feeling is fucking mutual, Park.” 
When your boss told you’d be working with Park Jongseong you protested to the high heavens, and you downright refused when he told you that you would have to pretend to be his wife.
“Absolutely not.” you crossed your arms in a huff, not even sparing a glance at either of the men in the room.
Heeseung groans loudly, “Listen, don’t give me shit okay, I already had it from him,” He points to Jongseong who is leaning casually on the office door, as if barricading you from an easy escape, “You’re the only female on the squad that isn’t on a major assignment right now.” 
“Why can’t he just do it himself?” You ask.
“Trust me, sweetheart, I’m not buzzed about this either but Kim Kwangmin invited me and my ‘wife’ to a private dinner and overnight stay, and in case you haven’t noticed I haven’t got one of those.” Jongseong pushes himself from the wall as he speaks to you.
Jongseong is undercover to do a massive drug bust that won’t only take down one of the biggest suppliers and dealers in Seoul but also get your department a massive boost in funding and recognition. It was a big deal to your boss and the whole department. You just had to work with your biggest rival in the precinct. 
“Just tell them your ‘wife’ is sick.” You claw to find any excuse not to do this. It wasn’t just pretending to be his wife but the scenario in which you have to; you can’t possibly sit in his company and pretend to be in love with him for a whole dinner.
“It’s either that or I'll suspend you,” Heeseung warns.
“Hee, you can’t do that! It’s unjust suspension.” You proclaim, standing up.
“Yeah, and I’ll file the paperwork,” Heeseung stands to mirror your challenging stance, “You will be Jongseong’s wife. End of story.”
So here you are in his hired car as he drives you to the hotel in the middle of nowhere. In a way, you understand why they basically forced you to do this, the payout would be phenomenal, but you still grudge it.
The drive up has been anything but pleasant. You and Jongseong can’t agree on anything, not even the radio station, so you’ve been in silence for 3 hours, only barking out judgments of his driving or telling him how awful the idea is.
Pulling up to the hotel you stare in awe, it’s a whole different level than you’re used to, the tall white building that looks more like a castle beats every Premier Inn or Motel 6 you’ve been forced to occupy. Despite not seeing the inside, you can already guess the marble detailing and artwork on the ceilings, like something out of a princess movie. 
You’re too busy gawking to realise the car has come to a halt and Jongseong is stepping out of the car, the only thing that alerts you is the unnecessarily loud bang as he slams the door shut behind him. 
Opening the passenger door, you walk around the car to meet him as he flips open the boot to take your suitcase out. Inside, you had everything you’d need for 2 nights: dinner dresses, heels, pyjamas, guns, and handcuffs - all the necessities for a weekend away with your ‘husband’.
Jongseong pulls out your case with one hand and examines it, looking at you quizzically. You don’t understand what he’s so puzzled about, it’s just a suitcase, “What?” you finally ask since he won’t give it to you.
“It’s fluorescent pink…with fucking daisies on it.” His eyes are ridiculing as he looks between you and the case. 
“So what?” You nab it from his grip and wipe it down. A few years ago you had seen the suitcase in a shop window and instantly fell in love with it and had to have it, no matter the cost. Petunia has never left your side since, and being on this assignment wasn’t going to change that.
“You’re supposed to be my wife, not my daughter,” he snarks, pointing dramatically to the semi-childish suitcase, “We are going to meet with the most powerful drug lord in all of Seoul and you’re carrying around a Dora the Explorer bag.” 
You take offence, of course, you would, how dare he compare Petunia to a children's cartoon backpack, “Don’t speak about her like that, she’s got feelings.” 
Jongseong’s face deadpans as you stomp away. He quickly retrieves his own luggage and locks his car before chasing after you. Opposite to your luggage, his is a sleek, black metallic case, that matches his personality - cold and hard. Somehow, your suitcases said everything about each of you.
“You aren’t seriously upset are you?” He asks, pulling you back before you get to the main door, “Look, you can’t fucking blow this for me, okay? I’ve spent months on this case and if we aren’t on the same page, he’ll guess something is up.” 
You want to slap him right now because his tone is so condescending, it’s infuriating, “Apologise.” You face him, eyes tough as they look into his pupils.
Jongseong groans and almost throws a tantrum. Grabbing your arm he takes you to the side, all too well aware how anyone could see you two bickering. He didn’t need this to be the reason he lost this assignment, “Fuck, look, I’m sorry for slagging off your suitcase, okay?” 
But you don’t budge, eyebrows lifted expectantly. Your eyes point down to the pink case, “Don’t apologise to me, apologise to Petunia.”
“Petu-, what the fuck are you talking about, Y/N? I am not saying sorry to a fucking case.” He is going red in the face, frustration coursing through his veins. “Are you really going to be that childish right now?”
You stand your ground, waiting for him. He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, hands on his waist once he comes to understand you are not going to let it up. He is going to have to apologise to an inanimate object if he wants to proceed with the weekend, “If I say sorry to…Petunia…will you please start cooperating with me?” As you nod, he sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, “Okay, I am really sorry Petunia, I think you’re a lovely suitcase.” 
Feeling accomplished, you grasp the handle of your case and smile, "She accepts." You walk away smugly, head held high, leaving him behind to head to the front doors again, this time with a spring in your step. When you return to the office, you will gladly inform the girls in admin about this.
As you and Jongseong walk into the building, it is exactly how you described it, classic and grand with a bustle of wealthy people. Suddenly, the jeans and blouse you’re wearing don’t fit right on your body. 
Something touches your hand and you yank it away quickly, almost going into defence mode before you look down to see Jongseong’s hand stretched out beside you.
He looks down at his empty hand and back up to you, his face serious, “Take my hand,” He asks, bored of this conversation already.
“Ew, why?” 
“What do you mean ‘why’, you’re my wife, remember?” Oh, yeah…you suppose the charade started as soon as you walked through the massive turnstile door. Sighing, he takes your hand again except this time he successfully intertwines his fingers with yours, the feeling of your hand in his is foreign and peculiar, he doesn’t think he’s ever held hands like this with someone despite being in his 20s, “You ready?”
With a quick nod, you both make your way to the reception desk. The woman behind the counter is physically flawless. The pinned-up hair and her faux mink lashes fanned across her eyes making her gaze sultry, and her plump lips were upturned into a generous smile. 
You could tell Jongseong was a bit taken aback by her beauty because it took him a minute of staring before gathering his words, “Hi, we have a reservation, should be under Hwangs. I believe Mr. Kim Kwangmin arranged everything.”
As soon as he says the criminal’s name, the receptionist straightens her back, face whitening a little. She clearly knew of his nature and like most of the city, she did not want to mess him about. Usually in fancy establishments like this, they ask to see ID before checking people in, but not this time, the girl was too flustered to do anything other than nod and rearrange her desk. It’s lucky for you she didn’t ask for ID considering your undercover operations unit didn’t have time to muster up any fake passports due to the suddenness of the invitation. 
Your aliases for this case are the Hwangs. Apparently, you’ve been married for a year, dating for 3, and dotingly in love with one another. Jongseong is new money, he inherited it from his late Uncle who passed away. Kim Kwangmin prayed on people who had more money than sense, enticing them to create fake companies where he could ship drugs from A to B. That’s why it’s been so hard to catch him because he’s never the name on the papers. But if Jongseong can get him to talk about it in detail, he’s got him behind bars. 
The conversation of a wife came up randomly in conversation, Kwangmin is a family man who loves his wife and kids, and for Jongseong to gain his trust he spouted a load of bullshit about how he was in the world’s most perfect marriage with the love of his life. He doesn’t know why it worked, but he isn’t going to question it now.
“Mr. and Mrs. Hwang, you’ll be in the Ambassador Suite as per Mr. Kim’s written request. I’ll call someone to escort you and take your bags,” She points with her hand to the lift while two men come up to take your things, “If you make your way to the private elevator,”
Jongseong thanks her, bowing as he takes your hand again. All eyes are on you already but that isn’t surprising, it would be more bewildering if no one was watching you considering you’re the prestigious guest of a drug king.
You both get up to your Suite and it is unreal. The lift opens directly into the room and you’re met with nothing but luxury. Perhaps this assignment did come with some perks. Taking your shoes off, you whisper a little ‘wow’ as you look around, the clean cream carpets feel like you are stepping on a cloud, you almost don’t want to put on the complimentary slippers that are waiting for you, but you do anyway, trying to soak up as much of this experience as possible.
Jongseong walks straight ahead, not even soaking in the embellishments of the Suite. He wasn’t one for blissfully looking around, he had a job to do after all. 
You do a quick tour of the place before you hear Jongseong groan, “For fuck sake.”
“Hmm?” You prance over to him, still in a dream-like state from all the luxury and elegance, “What is it?”
“Look,” He keeps staring in front of him as you join him to look at the bed. It looks so inviting, the rich Egyptian cotton throws and fluffy pillows make you want to jump on the bed. So you do.
You take a step back before launching yourself onto it, squealing out a soft ‘wee!’ as if you’re a kid shooting down a slide in the playpark. The way you’re acting is perfectly representative of your luggage but you don’t care, you’re far too busy doing snow angels on the soft duvet, “What’s the issue? This is perfect,” You roll around a few times to really soak it in.
“Just wondering if you’ve had a look around,” He twirls his finger in a circle, looking at you disappointedly.
“Yeah! There’s a bath, a bar, a lounge area bigger than my house,” You go on listing everything you saw. 
“Mhmm, and was there another bed?” He asks.
You think, “No I didn’t see-”. Okay, you see the issue now. There was only one bed. With an annoyed scowl, he shook his head at the sheer obviousness of the situation, as if he was frustrated he even had to address it. 
Sharing a bed was the last thing any of you wanted, so you had to come to an agreement, however, both of you seemed to be thinking the same thing. “You can take the couch.” You both say at the exact same time and it creates an eerie silence in the bedroom.
“This is my assignment, I get the bed.” He argues, walking around to grab you and throw you off, but you use your weight against him, playing dead.
“No! I was forced here, my job was being put on the line, so this is my bed.” While you protest, he’s climbing on the bed, pulling at you to get off, his hands gripping your wrist to heave you off, but you won’t go down without a fight. Kicking your legs, you try to boot him off you, but he’s strong and half of you is off the bed already, “Jongseong! Let go!”
“Stop being a baby and let me have the bed!” He fights back. The hold he has you in is representative of a bodyslam that wrestlers would do in the ring, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, “Come on, Y/N. Give it up.”
With a swift kick, you boot him in the balls, causing him to groan and roll over, body going limp. Panicked, you sit up and check him, “Shit, Jongseong, you good?” But he doesn’t say anything, instead clutching his goods, face screwed in pain. Tucking your hair behind your ear you lean over him, checking his pulse. He might be dead, he hasn’t moved for a hot minute.
Jongseong breathes out, trying to dull the pain. You played dirty, he respected it, but his dick didn’t. 
“Jongseong, hey, I didn’t mea-”
You don’t get to finish your apology because he’s suddenly got his hands on your shoulders and flipping you both around so now you’re the one on your back, his body weight keeping you down, “What the fuck was that?!”
Laughing you let out a pathetic ‘sorry’ but Jongseong isn’t amused. However, the snorts coming from your mouth sweeten his distaste for the situation a little. Quickly, you cover your mouth, shocked at the noises you’ve just made. Staring at each other, you both hit a fit of giggles. You haven’t snort-laughed in so long, not since a girl's night back at the beginning of the year. 
Once the hilarity dies down, you look up at him still hovering over you, the heat from his body bringing a flush to your face that you hope you can pass off as a lack of oxygen from the giggling. However, when he meets your gaze, you notice the same blushed colour across his cheeks. You swear for a whole second he looks handsome, like he has a face you don’t want to punch for once. 
This Jongseong right now shows an unexpected softness in his gaze which brings back memories of when you met him for the first time at the precinct. Back then, he was full of life, free of the responsibilities of the job. For a brief moment, it feels like you've caught a glimpse of a different, more approachable side of him.
Suddenly, his decoy phone he’s been using undercover rings loudly, startling you both off the bed and helping you regain your sense of judgment because the way you were starting to think about Jongseong as he lay on top of you was…It will never happen again.
“That is my bed. Period.” He says, swiping to answer the call on his phone.
Fixing yourself, you do your best to ignore what just happened, grabbing your case from the front door and unpacking it on your bed. 
He walks back into the room and chucks his phone on the bedside table, “Kim wants us for dinner at 8pm sharp. Go get changed.” There he is, the usual mean and cold Park Jongseong. Any feelings you felt earlier are gone with the wind because this is who he truly is. He doesn’t even spare you another look before he leaves to get ready himself.
Just two nights, that’s all it is. 
_______
8pm comes faster than you thought and as you swipe the last bit of lip gloss to your lips, you hear Jongseong complaining about how you will both be late. Instead of paying him any mind, you give yourself the once over in the bathroom mirror. Your makeup is smoky and sultry, and your hair is curled loosely since you didn't have the time to fight with bobby pins to put it in an updo. The dress you’re wearing is a little over the top but when you read the case file you noticed how Mr. Kim loved extravagant, and boy was this dress just that. The black body-con, dinner dress hugged you perfectly and accentuated all the right places, a bold slit travels up your thigh which reveals just enough skin with each stride, and the sweetheart cut paired with off-the-shoulder lace sleeves just add to the drama of it all. You looked like you stepped out of a James Bond movie, which wasn’t a bad thing at all.
“Can you please hurry up,” An impatient Jongseong bangs on the bathroom door.
“Relax, oh my god!” You place the lip gloss in your matching silk bag and walk out to greet your ‘husband’. 
“About fucking time.” He mumbles, looking at his watch, “We need to…go.” His words trail off as he finally sets his eyes on you, “Woah.”
“I look good, huh? Can I pass for a millionaire’s wife?” You twirl, widening the slit to show more of your leg and Jongseong’s jaw nearly hits the floor. He’s so used to you in athleisure wear or jeans with your hair held together by a claw clip that’s missing two prongs, he didn’t think you could look so elegant, so beautiful.
Floating over to him, you place your two fingers under his jaw and close his mouth, “You’ll catch flies, baby.”
Embarrassed, Jongseong regains his senses and swats your hand away, “Shut up. Let’s go.” He pushes you slightly to the door as you chuckle over how flustered he is. It did make you feel a little bit sexier than you did before because if you can make Park Jongseong swoon, you’re definitely going to have the attention of Mr. Kim, and attention is all you need to gain a confession.
With your arm in his, Jongseong leads you to the dining room where you’re set to have dinner. He spent the elevator ride going over the plan. You had to act a little dumb, make him feel like he’s leading the conversation, and be all over your man. Of course, Jongseong would make his wife obsessed with him, he doesn’t get any action outside of this fantasy, well, that’s what you tell yourself. His personality is so repugnant that you can’t imagine anyone being with him. No matter how hot he is, especially in a suit.
His beauty in the tailor-made suit didn’t go unnoticed by you, he looked delicious, but he was still a prick, a prick that hated you.
The dining room is filled with upper-class cartels, all businessmen who would do anything to be on top. It makes you feel a little queasy, but you swallow it down and focus on your role. You state your business to the host and urgently, you’re shown to your table where Mr. and Mrs. Kim are already there. That’s a bad start, no one should ever be late for a meeting with Kim Kwangmin, and by late, that means he gets there before you.
"Mr. Kim, hello." Jongseong's stance is more poised than normal, but you can feel his nervousness. If he cracks this case, he will be the youngest detective to do anything of this magnitude, so you can appreciate what he is going through. In an attempt to reassure him, you swipe your thumb over his arm, which he only feels through his suit jacket. Nevertheless, he’s thankful for it.
Mr. Kim stands and reaches his hand out, “You’re late, Hwang.” 
“Apologies, Sir-”
“That was my fault, Mr. Kim. I made him change a few times. Every suit he was trying on was giving last fall, and I said to him ‘Babe, only the best from Mr. Kim’, Isn’t that right, Jjongie?” You don’t know why you took on the persona of a teenage girl who has a tweet count of 20k, but it seemed to do the trick because Kim Kwangmin is laughing.
“The things we’ll do for our girls, eh?” Mr. Kim says and Jongseong awkwardly laughs with him, nodding. When he looks down at you, his expression is appreciative, “Please, have a seat. I’ve ordered some entrees.” The man extends his arm as he sits himself.
Jongseong bows and pulls out your chair for you and as you sit down, he kisses your cheek lightly, the act of service making your stomach flutter.
This is going to be a long night.
And it was. Jongseong is getting nowhere, every time he tries to hint towards Mr. Kim’s dealings, the man just brushes him off, too busy talking about the stock market and other men in suits kind of chats. To be honest, you zoned out about 20 minutes ago, your fork rolling a pea across your plate. You hate business talk, it’s so mind-numbingly dull. Who cares about all of this, really?
“Ah, Jongseong, looks like I’ve bored your little lady,” Mr. Kim points out and it brings you back to attention. 
“Not at all, Sir, she just gets a little distracted, don’t you, Princess?” He tries to cover for you, eyes glaring at you. 
You giggle and stroke Jongseong’s arm, “I don’t get business talk, I just like the money.” Your fake honesty earns you another laugh from Mr. Kim, he has taken a shine to you throughout the dinner which works in your favour and this is your chance to try and wiggle something out of him, “My baby, spoils me but sometimes he’s so stingy with money.” You pout and Mrs. Kim raises her glass to your statement, clearly understanding your faked pain.
“Tut, tut, Jongseong, we should always spoil our girls.” He reprimands your husband and you nod eagerly, playing your dumb role quite well. If being a detective doesn’t work out, maybe you should try acting.
Jongseong strokes your head and laughs, “I treat her well, that’s why she married me. But I suppose I could venture into bigger waters to make sure she’s well looked after.” Cringe. Jongseong hates to speak about you like you’re nothing but an object, a black hole for his fake money because that’s absolutely not who you are, you’re the complete opposite. You’re strong and brave, and super smart. 
“Oh, Kwangie, let’s get them to do the love list?” 
Damn, that irritating wife of his. Jongseong had brilliantly set the tone for her husband to explain his inner connections, and she simply had to change the subject to what must only be the dumbest idea you've ever heard. You're not even sure what a love list is, but you don't want to participate.
Despite your inner monologue protesting the very thought, Mr. Kim doesn’t share your displeasement, “What a great idea! I tell you, it makes your marriage stronger than ever.” 
Mrs. Kim sees the confused look on both your faces, taking it as her opportunity to explain, “You look each other deep in the eyes, and whisper 3 things you love about one another. If you do it every day, you always see the good in them.” She looks proud as punch, clapping her hands lightly, “Go try it out!” She ushers you both together.
Even if this were a real marriage, why would anyone want to do this at all never mind in front of another couple they’ve just gotten to know? 
Desperately searching for a way out from this awkward charade, you turn to your husband for the weekend, only to find him sporting the same perplexed expression. If you two can't pull this off seamlessly, it's a sure bet that Kim will catch on. Throughout the night, Jongseong and you have been playing the part of lovers to perfection, and if the facade crumbles because you can't conjure up one genuine thing you both appreciate about each other, the entire plan goes to shit.
“C’mon you two, this should be easy, what with how you look at one another. Reminds me of a young us.” He looks at his wife and rubs his nose with hers. It’s hard to believe he is one of the scariest men in Seoul.
Jongseong puts one arm over the back of your seat and tugs you closer to him, staring at you, “I guess we could give it a shot, yeah?” Was he serious? The man hasn’t said one nice thing about you ever, and now he’s going to pluck three things out of his ass? This won’t work.
“Y/N, you go first.” 
Well, shit a brick and call it Mary. You are fucked.
Jongseong sees your worried expression and shakes his head as if telling you to keep it together. He leans into you, “Make up anything, even if it’s not real,” 
Three pairs of eyes stare at you, awaiting your love confessions. What do you appreciate about Park Jongseong? “Um, I think he’s really handsome?” The statement pops out like a question which seems to displease the couple opposite you.
“No, Y/N, start it with ‘I love’ and tell him little things that make you fall in love with him,” Mrs. Kim instructs, giving you another chance.
You cannot fuck it up this time. So you look deep into his eyes and search into him for your history, past all the bickering and agitation. His face softens, knowing this is putting you in an uncomfortable position, and it gives you a line, “I love that he knows when people around him are left out, and he tries to include them in every conversation so they feel seen.” 
Jongseong seems surprised by your answer, or more the sincerity of it. It was true though, you did appreciate that about him. One time, you were sitting as the only girl at the table having after work drinks, and not one of the guys included you in any of the banter, and when Jongseong noticed he pulled you into the conversation - albeit it was poking fun at you, but after that, the guys opened up around you.
Your eyes are still glued to his as you rhyme off another one, “I love that, when you’re not being uptight about things, your face loses its contours and you look so soft and squishy,” you laugh and pinch his cheek, “Like right now,” He hadn’t realised his hard shell had fallen as you spoke to him, making his appearance gentle. 
Giggling as he shakes you off, demeanour now shy, you think of a final one. This has been a lot easier than you thought, and you think you could probably say more than three now that your brain was on a roll.
“And I love the way you push me to be the best version of myself, even when I think your criticism is sometimes harsh and uncalled for, you make me want to be a better de-, person. I love that the most.” 
None of you let up eye contact as Mr. and Mrs. Kim applaud you, thankfully satisfied with your answers. Jongseong’s lips tug at the edges, giving you the first genuine smile of the night. He’s glad you managed to come up with things to keep the pair off your backs, but also because they were real things you liked about him. 
“Hwang, your turn. Tell your girl how you feel.” Kim instructs almost like he’s a love coach and you’re his patients. But Jongseong seems to forget that his alias has a different second name because he ignores the man and just keeps looking at you. You swear at one point he does the triangle method but you can’t be too sure.
“Jjongie?” You utter, voice just above a whisper, “Your turn,”
“I love,” He pauses, licking his lips, “I love that you give inanimate objects names, and care about them like they’re real people,” You laugh, recalling your previous events with your beloved Petunia, “In fact, the way you take care of everyone around you, and how you will do anything for anyone, I love that. That’s my first one.”
He sits with the next one for a while, making you nervous, but you don’t have to be, “I love how you put me in my place whenever my ego gets a little big. You keep me grounded without knowing it.”
You smile and pout at the same time, finding his words infiltrating your heart a little. Jongseong takes your hands in his, rubbing your knuckles gently as he finishes his love list, “I love…that you are by far one of the most beautiful people I have ever had the privilege to be around, inside and out.”
Oh, he is good.
The eye contact you’re both still holding is sparking a fire inside you, the warm feeling in your tummy makes you feel electric, like you could do anything. You’re both so engrossed in one another that you don’t hear the Kims leave, whispering how they should leave ‘you love birds to it’. 
You don’t know how long you sit there just looking at one another, but you think it must be about 10 minutes before you start to notice how quiet it is at your table. Breaking the contact first, you look around and see the man you’re after is gone, “Uh, Jongseong?” 
“Yeah, baby?” He’s still deep in his character, still focused on your side profile.
“They’re gone.” You state, pointing your head to the empty table. This is bad.
Jongseong finally removes his gaze from you to the problem and his face falls. How the fuck did they just sneak out like that? You daren’t look at him because you can already feel the anger radiating from his body. His jaw clenches and he bangs the table loudly, “Fuck!” 
Without a word, he stands up and storms out of the dining room and all the way up to your room, leaving you to waddle after him, not used to the heels you’re in. He is pissed, no he’s livid, seething at the fact his opportunity to get the dirt on the man he’s been after for 8 months just slipped away like water in a sieve. How could you both be so reckless? This never happens to him.
He swipes the key in the door and angrily strips himself of his shoes and jacket, not caring about anything other than how he can make this right. Before the door closes, you catch it, stepping into the room and following him quietly. You don’t know the best way to approach him.
“Jongseong, we still have tomorrow.”
“Like fuck we do, Y/N! This was the dinner to get in on his schemes, to finally get something on the guy I’ve been stuck kissing ass to for months!” He runs his fingers through his hair and tugs it harshly, “If you weren’t so fucking incompetent.”
“ME?! I didn’t do shit,” You argue back, offended. How can he blame this solely on you? As if he wasn’t the main part of this.
He spins and points to you, “You did plenty! Why didn’t you just make a load of shit up for that list and get it over and done with? I was doing great on this case before you turned up and ruined it.”
You don't want to fight with him, but you will since that is your true dynamic, not what you were like at the table, which was just a charade. This was the authentic you and Jongseong, “You’re acting like I did this all on my own but you were the one that brought up having a wife in the first place, you made me be here! And then you started making eyes at me when we were doing those stupid love lists, that’s on you, not me.” 
Jongseong has veins popping all over his body, his frustration overtaking him like you haven’t seen before. You see him charging towards you before he grabs your shoulders with force, but not enough to hurt you. He shakes you a little, “You drive me fucking crazy, I can’t stand you.”
You raise your voice to match his, pushing him off you, “Fuck you, Park!”
“Fine.” Grabbing the back of your head he pulls you to him, smashing his lips against yours. The action is sudden so it sucks the breath out of you. Were you really kissing Park Jongseong? “You’re so fucking infuriating,” His words are venomous but it doesn’t stop him from gripping your hair and pulling your head back to kiss you deeper. 
If you weren’t dizzy from the wine at dinner, you are now. This man is a psychopath, blowing hot and cold, and yet you’re kissing him back with just as much fervour as he is giving, your lips smushing with his. 
When he feels you reciprocate, he waltzes you to the wall behind you, accidentally slanting a few frames on the wall. You've never experienced anything like the force he has over you, and you can't get enough of it.
“I’m gonna ruin you like you ruined my case.” He spits, pressing you flat against the wall with his body, the arousal evident. 
Driven by a blend of rage and lust, your tongues collided furiously, resulting in a passionate kiss. 
Your head is so scrambled that you can’t decide what you want, so you push him off you to give you time to think. 
Standing about a meter apart, both of your chests rise and fall heavily as you pant, already gasping for air from the heated kiss. He looks dishevelled, hair a riot and your lipstick smothered over his mouth, it’s only adding to your attraction towards him.
Both of you stand, staring at one another, waiting for the next move. But who’s going to make it? 
You could, on the one hand, end this right now and give yourselves a little breathing space. You've brought the emotions from the dinner with you, impairing both his and your judgement. If you leave right now, you can stop this and pretend nothing happened.
But on the other hand, if you move towards him and take him how you want to, it’ll change the dynamic of your relationship forever, and possibly not for the better but could it get any worse? The man just said he couldn’t stand you, what’s one night of throwing caution to the wind, of finally claiming what you desire?
Fuck it.
You practically run towards him, almost knocking him over when you jump on him, arms wrapping around his neck as you pull him down to your level, kissing him just like before, only this time you’re taking control. It’s the stupidest idea you’ll have this year but you couldn’t give two fucks, the taste of his mouth inebriating. 
Wrapping one of your legs over his, you grind on his thigh, alleviating yourself of the ache that your clit has suddenly developed. It's calling out to him for sweet relief.
“I fucking hate you,” Jongseong says through gritted teeth, his bulge evident in his slacks.
“Fuck me like you do,” You breathe into his mouth. It’s an odd request, usually, the sex you have is filled with love, or at least tolerance, but this time it’s fuelled by pure lust, it’s intoxicating.
Heeding your consent, Jongseong grips your waist tightly and guides you to the bedroom, all the while his mouth is eating yours. The mix of both your spit in one another's mouths is messy and your teeth are hitting off his, you’re both on each other as if you’re on a time limit. Technically you are because one second too long and someone’s clear judgement will start to kick in and stop this. 
Before you throw yourselves into bed, you both have a little issue called ‘clothes’ to take care of first. The gown was nice but he had to see what was hiding underneath.
Reaching for the zip of the dress, he tries to pull it down but it doesn’t budge and he’s too impatient for this right now, longing for your body. After a few tugs it doesn’t budge and he growls, annoyed at this hurdle of inconvenience. He looks down, inspecting the dress to see if he can just pull it over you but he sees a better, more efficient idea.
His hands grip the fabric of your dress at the slit, fingers digging into the material and each side and with a sudden, forceful tug, the threads snap as your beautiful, very expensive gown is torn in half. He uses every muscle in his arms to rip it off you, he’s never been more thankful for hitting the weights 4 days a week.
“Jongseong!” You gasp, annoyed that he’s just ruined your clothes but he doesn’t care, not when you’re standing before him with nothing but your black thong, tits out, and the garter for your gun. He isn’t saying he’s imagined this scenario before, but you’re more gorgeous than he could have ever pictured. 
Throwing the torn dress across the room, he makes way for your mouth again, only this time his hands are massaging your boobs roughly. You can feel the grit on his hands, a testament to the hard work of your job, but the scratchiness of his fingertips only makes you weak at the knees, the sensation of him all over your tits was magical.
For a little revenge, and because you can’t wait any longer, you rip open his white linen shirt, buttons consequently popping and flying across the room. He’s kissing you so forcefully you don’t even get to bask in how his tanned skin contrasts the paleness of his shirt, or how his torso is perfectly lean, not too ripped.
You rub your hands all over him as if trying to memorise every muscle and tense abs. The feeling of your hands dancing over him has Jongseong snarling softly as your mouths continue to meld together, “Such a pain in my ass, L/N.” 
It’s an invitation to slide your hands down to his ass and squeeze his cheeks and at the same time push his cock onto your core. His eyes roll to the back of his head, his nails digging into you, scraping harshly. You’ll definitely have marks in the morning.
With a determined shove, he propelled you onto the bed, a sense of urgency driving his actions. Jongseong needed you. Now.
Just like your dress, your flimsy thong is torn from your body, the burn of the material being ripped along your skin only heightens your pleasure. You’re laid spread on the bed, waiting for his next move, but when he doesn’t budge, too busy drinking in the sight of you, you need to take matters into your own hands.
Situating yourself on your knees, you undo his trousers and pull them down with his boxers, freeing his hardened cock of the confinements. The mixture of the natural breeze from the room and your hot breath makes him twitch in anticipation, “You want to suck my cock?” You’re so infatuated with his shaft and the veins running along it that you don’t register the mocking tone of his voice which normally you would snap at.
Jongseong grips your jaw so tight your mouth automatically opens. He tilts your head up so you both look at each other, eyes hazed with desire, “Fucking take it, then.”
With that, he’s shoving his length into your mouth, pushing you down until he feels the resistance of your throat. He’s not a monster, he isn’t just going to start abusing your mouth, but he does shallowly thrust his dick a few times, testing the waters. Fueled with rage or not, he’s not going to hurt you.
You on the other hand, swirl your tongue around his shaft as you bob your head up and down, loving the feeling of him filling your mouth. Personally, you don’t mind it rough, and by the look on Jongseong’s face, he’s holding back a little. It’s oddly sweet considering he looked like he could have murdered you 10 minutes ago.
Placing both your hands on his hips, you sink your closed throat around the tip of his cock, pulling him in as deep as he can go.
Jongseong’s hands clenched into fists and grabbed your hair, his knuckles turned white from the intensity of the sensation. He tries to push deeper into your throat, meeting your gag reflex with a groan. 
You push his hips out before pulling him back in harshly, giving him a hint of what you want. Fortunately, Jongseong has always been a fast learner, “You want me to fuck your throat, hmm?” You hum around him which elicits a wicked smirk on his face, “Good.” 
Rapidly, his hips move on their own, his cock now fucking your mouth and throat raw. It burns in the best possible way, the taste of his pre-cum sliding onto the back of your tongue each time he pulls back makes you moan. 
“You look so much prettier when your mouth is stuffed with my cock,” He comments, noting how much he loved the way you looked with your eyes watering and puffed out. You look like a dream, a dream he hopes he never wakes up from.
He holds your head still will both his hands, ass clenched as he fucks into you, mind completely lost in the feeling of your mouth.
Jongseong loves to be in control, not dominant, but his partners definitely know their place, and it’s to be putty in his hands.
What he doesn’t notice is how he actually isn’t in charge, you’re just making him think he is. It was you that decided whether this happened or not, it was you who got him to fuck your throat dry, and it’s you that’s going to make him cum.
Sucking harder, you’re trying to coax him to cum all down your throat, to help soothe the pain, but he won’t let that happen. Yanking at your hair, he pulls you off and you gasp for air, not realising you are losing oxygen. 
He almost unnoticeably checks to see if you’re okay, gazing softly into your eyes, but once he sees you smiling, he goes right back to his ways, pushing you down onto the bed and crawling over you. 
The way he's confined you beneath him causes your body to arch up to meet him and draw his entire weight onto you; his bare cock accidentally scrapes against your clit, causing your hips to buck up to gain friction. 
“So fucking desperate for me. I haven’t even made sure you can take me yet,” He teases, his hips moving slowly to slide his cock between your folds, gathering your slick as natural lube. You’re so wet you don’t even need any help, his cock could slide right in.
“I can take it,” You match his arrogance, not completely sure of the certainty in your words because he’s big, but it’s all to do with his length rather than girth, so you think you can handle it. Plus, you won't ever back down from a challenge set by your work foe. 
His face looks a little dubious too, like he doesn’t believe you. You’ll just have to prove it to him.
You smoothly flipped him over on the bed, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. As he landed beneath you, you held him in place, the thrill of the unexpected move adding an extra spark to the moment. It’s a carbon copy of how he pushed you onto the bed before dinner, just with way less clothes.
Not wasting any time you pump his cock a few times and spit on it, mixing the fluids of your saliva and his cum to help him ease into you.
“Fuck, you sure you can handle-” Jongseong’s words stop in place when his cock breaches your entrance as you start to sink onto him, “Holy shit,” He whispers, eyes shut tight as he feels the way you’re hugging his cock, the heat of you travelling to him. You feel sensational.
You start with shallow bounces, not taking his whole length into you just yet, but even just the 3 out of 6 inches you are experiencing are driving you wild. 
Jongseong wants nothing more than to bottom out and claim you right here and now but there’s something so satisfying about seeing you struggle to hold your weight up as you ride him. He could have some fun with this.
His hands rub your thighs, one of which moves closer to your cunt. You're too preoccupied to notice, so when his thumb circles your clit, you lose your balance and collapse onto him, all of his cock buried inside you now. The sudden stretch was glorious like you don’t understand why you didn’t just sit all the way on his dick in the first place.
“What’s wrong, Y/N? Too full of my cock to keep going?” He comments on your still body. Truthfully, you were just basking in the way his cock is stuffing you while his thumb keeps up the rhythm on your clit, you really didn’t have to move. But he’s taunting you to keep going and you can’t let him get away with it, he’ll never let you live it down if you just sit there. He’d call you selfish or a lone player, whatever else he’s called you at work.
So you start to move, grinding random shapes that would hilt his tip into all the perfect places inside your heat.
Like putty in his hands. He smirks, his tongue swipes his bottom lip as he watches you work for it. 
Your hands try to grasp anything that will aid you, but all you have is your hair, which isn't ideal but threading your fingers and pulling at the hairs on your scalp reminds you of how he had an iron grip on you when he first kissed you. 
Jongseong has to admire you right now because you’re taking your pleasure into your own hands, he’s basically doing nothing and he thinks you might be close to cumming. The competitive side of him knows what to do because he will be damned if he isn’t pounding you, making you scream his name as you cum.
He fucks up into you, taking over and making you lose the pace you had set. You would complain if he wasn’t hammering into you so good. The moans leaving your mouth are frenzied, calling out for more, which he’ll happily give you, just not in this position.
Cradling your back he sits up and throws you so he’s on top, your head now hanging off the end of the bed, the instant blood rush turns your brain to mush, and all the while he doesn’t stop thrusting into you, each time he moves, it hits a new spot you didn’t know you had. He’s fucking you so good, you’ll never get enough.
Jongseong dislikes the fact that he can't see your face, so he yanks you back onto the bed by your legs, causing him to dig deeper into your pussy. Once your fucked out face comes back into view, he smirks because you’re completely gone, eyes shut as you feel every inch of him. 
“Told you I would ruin you, didn’t I?” He grits out, slapping your left tit, causing you to yelp back into the world, your eyes now watering at the sting.
“Not ruined me enough,” You bite back, egging him on to go rougher. 
He tilts his head in disbelief as he keeps battering your pussy with his cock, the audacity you have to say that when you couldn’t even speak a minute ago. Roughly, grabs the back of your head and pulls you forward, his forehead against yours as his eyes burn deep into yours, “Say that again.” 
Every fibre of your body tells you not to speak another word, but you never listened to yourself anyway, “You couldn’t ruin me as bad as you ruined your case.”
“Fuck you.” He grips your throat keeping your head up and kisses you roughly, his tongue sweeping all along your mouth. Jongseong can only see red because it was you who made him forget about the assignment because it was your eyes he was getting lost in. This was your fault and no one else. 
Harshly, he pins you back to the bed by your neck, not squeezing too harshly, but just enough to restrict your breath flow. He saw how much you loved the head rush earlier, so he took that as a sign you would like to be choked while he fucks you.
He was right.
“You know what? I’m going to make my own list,” He breathes out, “My hate list.” 
You’re a little confused but you’re too drunk on his cock to understand even the simplest of sentences.
Jongseong begins to snap his hips into you with each sentence, “I hate that you think you’re better than me,” His grip squeezes your throat, “I hate when you suck up to the boss’ ass and stick me in shit when it’s convenient for you.”
You let out a whimper at his brute force, “Jongseong…please,” You try to fuck onto him more, the single thrusts not giving you what you want quick enough, but that only earns you another squeeze of your jugular.
“And I hate that I love how good you’re pussy feels,” Your ears prick up at the twisted compliment, a sense of accomplishment coming over you, “You drive me batshit crazy, and I fucking love it.”
He withdraws his hand from your throat and trails it back down to your bud, now focusing all his efforts on helping you finish. 
“I hate that you can’t just admit you like me,” You breathe out, voice hoarse. 
For a split second, he stops all his movements, but he refuses to acknowledge what you just said because it’s not true. He doesn’t like you, not one bit…
This was treading into dangerous territory and Jongseong knew it, so he had to end this fast. With one smooth movement, he hoists your back up to arch it and pounds himself deep into you, his balls slapping against your ass due to his relentless pace. He was showing you no mercy, he was showing you how much he hated your guts.
“I’m cumming, Jjongie,” You whine out.
He notices the nickname and, while he won't admit it, he likes it. Only when you say it, or rather how you say it, especially now that you're clenching down on him and cumming over his cock. The way your pussy clamps him causes him to blast his load deep into you, his previously tactical thrusts now hilted so he can fill you up. 
Shared pants echo the room as you both sit in the consequences of your actions. 
You just fucked Park Jongseong - and you liked it. The mix of anger and desire just added a new level to sex you didn’t think possible. 
Abruptly, he gets off you, and his cock slips out of you leaving you feeling a little empty, “I’ll take the couch,” he says, face hard with seriousness. He was just going to leave you like this? Weren’t you going to talk about what just happened? 
“Oh…okay.” You say deflated. 
Jongseong notices and turns his head to you, his back still in clear view, but he doesn’t utter a word. Instead, he sighs and picks up his case, retreating to the living area of the hotel suite. 
You feel a little tacky, not just physically but mentally. You weren’t expecting love and kisses after the sex, but a little ‘That was good’ or even ‘Are you okay?’ would have been enough. 
Attempting to push aside the lingering thoughts, you slip off of the bed and head to the shower, determined to rid your body and mind of all traces of his presence. As you retrieve your pyjamas and walk by him, you inadvertently overlook the gloomy expression on his face, like he wants to do more but he already complicated your relationship enough when he kissed and then fucked you, in his mind, it was best just to forget about it.
_____
The next morning you awake with the brightness of the day shining on your face. Your body is sore from the way Jongseong handled you last night. If it was any other circumstance, you would probably be smiling, reliving the best fuck you’ve had for years, but you’re not smiling. You can’t, not after he left you so coldly.
A buzzing from your phone diverts your attention into the real world. You read his name at the top of your phone and you begin to read the plethora of messages from this morning
Park Jongseong
5:12am: 
Gone to see if I can arrange lunch with him.
Wear something nice.
5:32am: 
Meet us at 11am in the dining room.
7:23am:
I’m sorry for last night.
I was a prick.
You ignore the apology and look at the time, it’s currently just past 10am which means you better get your ass in gear and get ready. 
It’s time to be Jongseong’s devoted wife.
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