#radio silence ever fucking since

[thekingdomofdong]

i keep getting the most half assed fuckin emails from bny mellon too. there was someone that emailed me two weeks ago asking if i was interested in the job, i got back right away, nothing for a few days, reply again, nothing, reply again, nothing, why the FUCK did you reach out to me for nothing

[yellowloid]

"i'm not talking impossibilities to bring us back together"...........you heard him.................

[vanyafresita]

actually, you know what ? im glad my ex gf ghosted me, i dodged a bullet it seems

[sparxemberflame]

God damn it.

No matter how much I try not to I'm still here. Over three years and I'm still here.

Waiting. Whispering desperately to myself the truths and apologies and forgiveness and thank yous that I cannot give to you since you closed the door.

All the closure I've wanted for over three years now is to tell you I'm sorry, ask to be allowed to show the effort and change I've done, tell you you are forgiven for everything and thank you So Much for the honor it was to be your friend and partner.

That and to give you any and all closure you want as well. If I could just do that it'd finally be out of my goddamn head. Instead I keep repeating. Like a mantra, like a prayer. Hoping against hope I'll one day get to say it. And get to say it right.

I hope you don't have any thoughts like this. I wish all the best for you and hope that moving on has been easy. Somehow, despite it all. But fuck dude do I miss you. And boy do I wanna learn and meet who you've become.

But you don't even want to speak to me. That's alright. If all I can do for you is stay away. If all I can do is wait without expectation that the waiting will ever be rewarded. Then I'll do that. I can do that much at least.

[white-spirit-of-darkness]

im gonna vent on the tags of this post okay? okay

[batshit-auspol]

I just spent some time scrolling through this blog and am suffering from sever laughter. Thanks so much for collating the countries craziest moments. One of my favourites is when Scott Morrison was in Hawaii while the bushfires where burning.

December 2019: As Australia's east coast is engulfed in the worst bushfires in living memory, rumours begin to circulate that Australia's Prime Minister Scott Morrison may have secretly fucked off for a holiday in Hawaii.

Keep in mind, this is what is going down in Australia at the time:

The Hawaii rumour is initially written off as a fringe conspiracy, because surely nobody could be that fuckin tonedeaf, and it was quickly forgotten about... until an Australian man visiting Hawaii UPLOADED A SELFIE ON THE BEACH WITH THE PM THROWING A SHAKA.

At which point all hell broke loose.

Overnight the formerly popular "Scomo" became the most despised man in all of Australia. Think "firefighters shouting out of their windows to news cameras" level of despised.

After about two days of radio silence and pretending like he was still at home running the country, the Prime Minister's handlers finally dragged him onto call with an Australian radio station, where he pinky promised to return to Australia as fast as he could in an attempt to calm things down.

Unfortunately Scott's empathy consultant (a real job) then had to watch Scott pour more gasoline on the dumpster fire by uttering the now famous phrase "Look I don't hold a hose mate" when asked by the radio interviewer why the fucking fuck the fuckhead wasn't fucking in Australia doing his fucking job during a massive fucking crisis.

Testing just how much worse things could get, Scomo then proceeded to NOT rush back to Australia as promised, instead attempting to complete the rest of his holiday, a fact that was exposed when a passerby snapped a picture of him still lounging on the beach two days later.

Eventually, holiday complete, Morrison did reluctantly slink back to Australia, and in an attempt to calm things down, he decided to pay a visit to a small town that had been destroyed by the fires.

Which was a big mistake.

Scomo still had not registered how absolutely and totally he had screwed the poodle with his Hawaiian beach vacation, and he walks into what is now taught in PR classes as one of the greatest examples of "what not do do in a crisis" in all of history.

Scotty from Marketing, as he is now dubbed by the nation, spends a painfully cringe-inducing hour wandering around a burned down town with TV news cameras in tow, having to FORCE PEOPLE TO SHAKE HIS HAND in what is some of the most awkward footage you will ever see.

At this point it's probably also worth mentioning that, before becoming Prime Minister, Scott Morrison's biggest claim to fame in politics was being the guy that was so far up the coal lobby's arse that he literally brought coal into parliament and waved it around, claiming it doesn't hurt people.

So when a protest was organised it turned out to be one big national fuck you to the Prime Minister, the likes of which the world has never seen before or since.

Needless to say, at this point Scomo's career was dead in the water, but thanks to the rules brought in to stop Australian political parties from knifing their leader every two weeks (a popular Aussie passtime) Morrison basically couldn't get fired until after the next election.

And so, when the election rolled around in 2022, we decided that was an opportune time to travel over to Hawaii to erect this bad boy tribute to the Prime Minister, on the very beach where Scomo had sat and drank margaritas that one fateful week in December as Australia burned (thanks to @chaser for funding the ticket)

[helaintoloki]

May I request a five x reader where they are living domestically and just being happy and lovey dovey especially experiencing everything they did together while being in the apocalypse, the time commission, stoping the other apocalypses etc (five x Lila doesn’t exist five x Lila doesn’t exist five x Lilia doesn’t-)

a/n: this piece is basically a big fuck you to s4 so enjoy five being happy and domestic with reader and not his own brother’s wife. also five and reader are mentally older adults but physically in their twenties

warnings: language, fluff, mentions of pregnancy

summary: now that the timeline has been fixed and the world is no longer in danger, five can enjoy a peaceful life with you

The sunlight that bleeds through the curtains is almost blinding as Five begins to stir himself awake. Stretching out his limbs until he hears a satisfying pop, he lets out a sigh and moves to reach out for someone that isn’t there. Your spot in bed is still warm which means you haven’t been gone for long, but Five still rises with a sense of urgency when greeted with your absence. Call it muscle memory from dealing with multiple kidnapping ploys against you or an old habit that just won’t die off after having to remain vigilant when protecting you from the enemy, but the poor boy’s heart always skips a beat when you go missing.

He finds you in the kitchen brewing a fresh pot of coffee, your back to him as you hum along to the radio that plays on the counter and search for Five’s favorite cup in the cabinet. He has to pause and take a breath to remind himself that you’re not in danger, your life of protecting timelines and ending apocalypses is over, and the fresh start you’ve made for yourselves isn’t in any jeopardy. You’re real, you’re alive, and you’re his.

“Morning,” Five softly calls with a careful smile as he rests a hand on the small of your back and presses a tender kiss to your lips.

“Good morning,” you great cheerfully before handing him his cup of coffee. “I didn’t hear you get up. Did I wake you?”

“Not at all,” he assures you before taking a hearty gulp of the hot liquid. After years of being together you know how to make Five’s coffee just the way he likes it and could probably do so in your sleep if asked. Your thoughtfulness is just one of the many traits of yours that have him wrapped around your finger always.

“We need to go grocery shopping,” you note dutifully as you peek your head into the fridge in search of breakfast. Frowning, you announce, “We’re out of eggs, so I guess it’s frozen waffles for breakfast.”

“Why don’t we go out for breakfast today?” Five suggests with an innocent shrug.

“Really? But you hate breakfast places. They can never make your coffee right.”

“I also hate seeing you eat frozen waffles three days in a row,” he reminds you with a wry chuckle. Maneuvering you out of the way, Five closes the fridge shut and gives you a gentle nudge in the direction of your shared bedroom. “Go on, get dressed. You can wear that new dress you bought the other day.”

“You’re right!” You exclaim with an excited gasp and rush off to your room before Five can change his mind. Not that he would, of course. Five would do anything to see you happy after all the shit he’s put you through in your time together. Sometimes he still wonders why you ever agreed to marry him, perhaps a slip of sanity or lack of care for your own wellbeing, but he wasn’t one to complain. He liked living the quiet life with you, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

~~~

The night air is cool against your bare shoulders as you sit comfortably upon the porch swing and listen to the cicadas sing their evening song. The sun has long since set, but the string of lights that hang above you are enough to allow you to see the pages of your color by numbers book. Beside you, Five sits with a book in one hand while the other rests atop of your legs strewn across his lap. He enjoys sitting in the silence of your company as you remain glued together despite partaking in your own hobbies separately.

“We’ve been married for thirty years,” you state simply, breaking the silence but never once breaking your focus from your coloring book.

“Sure have,” is Five’s thoughtful reply. Setting his book aside, your husband gives your calf a gentle squeeze and turns to look at your concentrated features.

“Not including your siblings, it’s always been just us. Together in the apocalypse, partners under the Commission, husband and wife.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, not quite sure what point you’re trying to make. Are you rethinking the marriage? Are you finally starting to have regrets about marrying him? He watches with bated breath as you set your materials to the side and finally meet his anxious gaze.

“I want to start a family of our own,” you finally confess, nervously fidgeting with your wedding ring as you await his response with hopeful eyes. “I don’t want it to be just us anymore.”

Sighing, Five leans his head back and shuts his eyes as he processes your request. He can’t say he’s surprised by your question; he’s noticed the way you eye babies in public, how you linger just a little too long to admire the window display of the infant clothing store at the mall, how you’ll hold the twins for hours in your arms and refuse to give them back until Diego has to physically pry them from your grasp. It’s only natural for you to feel this way, but that’s not the problem. The problem is Five isn’t exactly sure how he feels about becoming a father.

“I don’t know,” he admits carefully, taking great caution when choosing his next words so as to not upset you. “Having a kid, becoming parents… it changes everything.”

“I know we couldn’t before because there was the Commission and then the multiple apocalypses, and that’s why I never asked. But Five,” you urge gently, shifting to sit yourself up on your knees so you can reach over and take both of his hands in your own, “all of that is done with. We fixed the timeline, and all that end of the world nonsense is over with for good. No one is coming after us anymore or trying to kill me to get to you. We can properly grow old now and have a simple life together, wasn’t that always the goal?”

The boy is silent as he mulls over your speech. You’re completely right; saving the world and resetting the timeline to its proper place in order to ensure you and his siblings could have the lives you deserved was always the end goal. But after spending his entire existence trying to complete that task, he finds it hard to adjust to his new life of normalcy. Perhaps he’s not exactly scared of becoming a parent, but scared of what a baby would mean in the grand scheme of things. It would be proof that his work is truly over now, that he can turn his survival mode off after having it set to fight for so many years, and that’s a big adjustment for someone like him.

But when he looks at your hopeful gaze and sees the way you anxiously worry your lip between your teeth, he realizes that he’ll do anything to give you the happy life you deserve. He brings one of your hands to his lips and holds it tight as he murmurs his answer into the skin of your palm.

“If you think we’re ready, then I’m in.”

“You mean it?” You gasp while doing your best to withhold your excitement. Your eyes are wide and full of hope as Five lets out a soft chuckle before giving you a reassuring kiss.

“We survived the end of the world several times, how scary could raising a baby really be?”

He isn’t given an answer to his hypothetical question as you fling yourself into his arms and assault his face with multiple kisses along his skin. It’s safe to say his answer has eased your anxieties, and the boy can only laugh as you express your gratitude.

“I’m so happy you agree!” You exclaim giddily, your hands coming to rest upon his chest to ground yourself as you then suggest to Five’s surprise, “Let’s start trying tonight!”

“What?”

~~~

“That has to be the tiniest Hargreeves I’ve ever seen,” Klaus gushes adoringly as he takes in the details of the ultrasound photo in front of him. “Look at the little peanut, isn’t it precious?”

“I can’t believe Five is actually going to be a dad,” Allison notes in astonishment as the three of you turn your gaze to see him arguing with Diego over the proper way to baby proof your home while Ben eggs them on and ruins Luther’s efforts at trying to keep the peace. You’re only two months along, but Five is anxious to ensure that everything is perfect for your child’s arrival.

“You know, you might just be the first 65 year-old woman to give birth,” Klaus points out cheekily. “You should be in a world records book or something.”

“Very funny,” you retort sarcastically before taking back the ultrasound photo to hang up on the fridge. You falter for a moment when your eyes remain stuck to photo and your brain works on overdrive to commit the image to memory as best as you can.

“Everything okay?” Viktor asks after noticing the sudden change in demeanor.

“I just can’t believe this is real,” you murmur quietly, blinking back tears that threaten to spill. “After everything we’ve been through and everything we’ve lost, I guess a part of me worries that one day I’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream.”

“I know how that feels,” Allison assures you with a comforting squeeze to your shoulder. “But I promise you this isn’t a dream, and whatever you need we’ll be there.”

“Because you’re family now,” Viktor adds on with a confident nod. “And we look out for family no matter what.”

“Even though at one point in our lives we’ve all thought about killing each other,” Klaus notes humorously before giving you a tight squeeze.

“Everything okay over here?” Five asks, appearing at your side and placing a comforting hand on your back as you all turn your gazes towards the fridge and admire the newest addition to the family.

“Everything is perfect.”

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE HUSBAND x GN CELEBRITY!READER

— based off of a dream i had of a childhood friend/crush. hiatus not over tho lol.

— morally bankrupt reader. clingy husband. the usual yandere stuff.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who was your childhood best friend. Your parents shipped you two since you could speak.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who had a crush on you since forever. He doesn’t even remember a time where he didn’t get butterflies and an aching need to be the only one close to you

YANDERE! HUSBAND who’s the biggest flirt. He knows you the best. Although you were completely oblivious. He’d always try to be around you, compliment you, tease you.

He’d give you matching keychains, and would beg his parents to buy whatever gift he’d think you’d like.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who sadly had to move away for a while. He comes back during high school. And the first thing he asks while he’s there? To be put in the same class as you.

Now that you two are older, you finally started to notice how much of a tease he was. Always grappling unto a piece of your attention.

You acquiesce and begin to date him. Not necessarily feeling anything for the guy but thought it was high time that you finally settle down. It was the perfect storyline you could share once your ambitions were fulfilled.

That and cause your parents would only let you go to acting school if he married you.

Which you two eventually did before college. Was it rushed? Definitely. Did you even love the guy? Nuh uh. But you had places you had your sights set on. And he was the only path.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who drops out to be your full time househubby. His parents could always give him a job at their corporation anyways. There was no real pressure for him to study and get a job.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who almost always supports your acting career. Watching all your shows, movies, and interviews. Basically buying out all the merch you featured in. And paying advertisers across the globe to have your face plastered everywhere.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who unfortunately stops you from having any romantic or sexual scenes. Essentially blocking you from any roles that could be your breakthrough just cause it could have a tiny kiss or so.

Your anger at his blatant attempt to have control over you began simmering. Ever so slowly reaching the surface. Not improving at all when you found out he’d been trying out a job that his mother gave him.

Fuck the gifts. Fuck the yachts and cars he’d swarm you with. Why did he get to do what he wanted and you didn’t?

So you follow him to work once, only to catch him in a compromising position with a coworker.

You didn’t care about him or his business beneath the sheets really. So you had to thank the gods above that you knew exactly what and how to do the following act.

Cry. Scream. Throw things at them.

The coworker already left. Shuffling as they tried to hide from your anger.

Your husband is unresponsive. Catatonic. Even more of an excuse to hurt him.

You call him filthy, uncaring, the worst man to ever exist. Hell, even some of your true feelings come out as you yelled about how you regretted ever being with him.

You find out later from his mom that he had been framed. That this coworker was just trying to get money out of the heir.

Still, you wanted out. He had already served his purpose and you needed to expand your horizons.

A week later of radio silence from him as you prepared the divorce papers he walks in.

Covered in red his hands caressed your face,

“You called me filthy did you not? So I cleansed myself with their blood.”

[champagnefountains]

LUCIFER MAGNE – H.H

CHAPTER III (Finale) - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapters: I [x], II [x] Word count: 2.6k+ words (unedited) Genre/other tags: Angst with comfort. Good ending. Jealousy. Warnings: Cursing (of course). Gets a little bit heated towards the end, but nothing too explicit. Alastor being an asshole.

Much to your surprise, you found yourself enjoying Alastor’s company. When he wasn’t being the maddening person that he can be, he was actually quite pleasant to be around. After grabbing the items that Charlie had requested (which had all been teleported back to the hotel), Alastor convinced you to have a leisurely stroll around the outskirts of town. There, he introduced you to the many places he frequented, from the small, homey cafe he would always go to, to even the butchers where he purchases his premium meats. All the while, you tried to ignore the looks that you got from the surrounding residents – a mixture of fear and distaste were sent towards the radio-demon, whilst others stared at you in question, wondering who you may be and what you were doing with the Overlord. 

Even though you weren’t in the mood to chat, Alastor was more than happy to fill in the silence, sharing a couple stories and cracking corny jokes here and there, which you had to admit were pretty funny. After an exhausting week, it made you realise how nice it was to actually smile and laugh again.

After a couple hours, you both made your way back to the hotel. All the while, Alastor had been recounting a narrative from his times in the living world which had taken a particularly hilarious turn, causing you both to chuckle aloud. You wiped the amused tear that escaped your eye as Alastor pushed through the front doors of the establishment. 

“Oh, fuck no!” A familiar voice shouted from the distance, startling and causing you to flinch on the spot. Swiftly turning your head to the source of the ruckus, you were dumbfounded to see Lucifer himself, stomping his way towards your direction with a vexed expression. Behind him, you saw a distressed Charlie staggering towards him as Vaggie followed suit.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you asshole!?” Lucifer growled, getting up close and personal with Alastor, whilst poking an accusatory finger against his chest. Before you could’ve reacted, you were then pulled back by the deer-demon, who draped an arm around your shoulders.

“Now, now, why the sudden hostility? I was only taking my darling [Name] out for a much needed breath of fresh air!” Alastor chimes, feigning innocence and batting his lashes. “I took it upon myself to look after her wellbeing. We’ve all been so worried since she’s just been so, so dispirited and blue lately…and I’m sure you know why that is, your highness.” The backhanded comment caused you to swiftly peer up at the Overlord, baffled by the harshness of his remark. But as you observe his ever-growing grin, it only then struck you, the sole purpose behind his kind display towards you. 

Meanwhile, it had Lucifer fuming. Literally. “Why you little, piece of shit–” The King then grabbed Alastor by his dress-shirt, the fabric scorching under his touch, “who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like that?” Seeing the growing tension between the two men, Charlie immediately stepped forward. “Dad, stop it,” she sternly said, grabbing his wrist in warning. Lucifer was quick to shake the girl’s hand off, tightening his grip on Alastor’s shirt, “No, Charlie, I need to put this pompous asshole back in his place! It seems he doesn’t know basic courtesy, and how to keep out of other people’s business.”

Alastor chortles mockingly in response. “Oh, hoh? You speak of courtesy? I believe you should take your own advice, your highness, as you seem to lack consideration to those around you,” he pushed even further, all the while peering down at you from the corner of his eyes. Lucifer follows his line of sight, his eyes landing on the troubled expression etched on your face. His gaze softened for a brief moment, before hardening once more as he fixed his attention back to the Overlord.

“You better shut that damn trap of yours if you know what’s good for you,” Lucifer warns deeply. “Now, I’m merely sticking up for a dear pal of mine. So tell me, what exactly is so wrong about that?” Alastor shoots back, harshly flicking the man’s hand away. Tutting, he patted down his now-tattered suit, an eye twitching in mild annoyance. 

“It is when you decide to overstep boundaries.” With a blink of an eye, Lucifer’s scleras suddenly switched over to a red hue, sending you into sudden caution. Alastor’s grin turned almost sinister at the challenging tone. “Perhaps it’s necessary to do so. After all, dear [Name] over here had a pleasant time. There was no harm done.”

The King gritted his teeth, his horns threatening to reveal themselves, “Oh, but that’s what you think. ‘Cause someone will be harmed if you decide to keep this shit up–”

“Lucifer, stop.” Almost instantaneously, the King’s fumes were extinguished as he turned his gaze towards you. He felt shame fill him to the core at the sight of your disappointed expression, glaring at him in disapproval. Baffled, he opened his mouth to speak, “[Name], I–” 

“Don’t,” you sternly intervene, raising a hand to silence him. You then send a critical glance back at Alastor, forcibly pushing his arm off of you, “And you. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking of, pulling a stunt like this and using my vulnerability for your sick entertainment, but I expect you to apologise to Charlie and everyone else here for causing all this ruckus.” You ignored the way the radio-demon’s eyes rolled as you pushed through, stepping forward to grab Lucifer by the wrist, before dragging him along towards the staircase leading to your rooms. In doing so, you offer an apologetic look to your friends as you pass by the bar, who nodded back in silent understanding and awe.

The walk towards your shared room was painfully silent as the both of you dreaded the upcoming confrontation. As the number of your shared room came into view, you let go of Lucifer to wordlessly invite yourself inside. The King followed suit with hesitant steps, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. Rubbing his arms self-consciously, his downcast eyes trailed up to you. You had plopped yourself down on the furthest side of the bed across the room, your back facing towards him and posture slumped over. Lucifer let out a shaky breath. 

“...[Name], darling. I’m sorry,” he starts softly, nervously squeezing his hands into fists, “I shouldn’t have let him get under my skin. It was–It was childish of me. I didn’t mean to upset you–“

“Y’know, you’ve got some nerve acting the way you did…” you suddenly cut in, voice surprisingly faint but filled with melancholy, “...acting all resentful and jealous towards Alastor–who mind you, was actually just taking me out for a walk–when you yourself still seem to be preoccupied with your ex.” Lucifer grimaced at the venom laced in your tone. Ouch. Though it was deserving, he dejectedly thinks to himself. 

“[Name], please, I-I can explain everything. I didn’t mean for tonight to go the way it did,” Lucifer pleaded whilst staring at the back of your head. He didn’t know whether his sincerity was effectively making its way through to you.

“Then what were you planning?” You say sharply, your voice raising a bit, “I…Lucifer, just please tell me what’s going on. Just tell me the truth.” Your eyes started to blur as a sob threatened to escape your throat. “Because I’m tired of this. I-I’m so tired of feeling so insecure, confused and lost, and I...I-I don’t even know what you want from me anymore.” You hang your head down low, hugging yourself tightly as the tears begin to pour out uncontrollably, “If…if you’re planning on breaking up with me, just go ahead and say it! I-I don't want to be waddling 'round like some–some idiot, waiting for you to–”

“No. Wha–[Name], no. Don’t even go there.” Lucifer said incredulously, immediately marching towards your side of the bed. He kneels down in front of you, reaching out to grab at your shaking hands. “That’s not why I’m here, okay? It’s not even remotely close to what I have to say. So please get that idea out of your head,” he reaffirms, while rubbing his thumbs against your hands in a reassuring manner. You decided to keep your gaze down, having no strength to look Lucifer in the eye, knowing fully well that you’d break even more if you were to do so. Your tiny gasps and hiccups were what filled the room, tearing the King’s heart bit by bit, with every second that passed. With no words spoken on your behalf, Lucifer took this as a cue to continue. 

“[Name]…I’m sorry for upsetting you. That’s the last thing I ever wanted to do. I-I know I’ve got a lot of baggage, and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for making you carry that burden with me. I…I did a lot of thinking during our time apart, and it made me realise how much of a fool I was–of how blind I was to what was in front of me. I took for granted your love and kindness. I-It wasn’t fair to you, and you didn’t deserve that. I-I truly didn't know what I was thinking, continuing to wear that ring. I came to terms and knew deep down for so long, even before we got together, that there wasn’t a possibility that Lilith and I would ever get together again. And yes, I do love Lilith. She’s been with me since the beginning of time and for most of eternity, and is the mother of my only child. Perhaps it was the memories that we shared that kept me hanging on for so long, I thought. She didn’t do anything wrong by me either…we just…sort of grew apart after a while. I-I don’t know why, but regardless…it hurt a lot. And even despite her absence now, I still do love her.” 

At that, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. His words were like a harsh punch to the gut. It was nauseating, and the room felt like it was caving in on you. Devastated, you attempted to pull yourself away to leave the room, but was forced to still as Lucifer reached up to cup a hand over your dampened cheek. He gently tugs your face upward, his eyes softening and staring deep into your crestfallen, reddened ones. 

“But darling, it’s not the same anymore. It’s different now. And it’s because you changed that. Yes, Lilith will continue to be an important person in my life, there’s no doubt about it. But…it’s you, darling. I choose you. You mended and opened up my heart when I was a hundred-percent certain that I couldn’t for another soul again. Each second and moment I spent with you made me become so hopeful and excited for the future and whatever lies ahead of us. Alongside Charlie, you've made me the happiest I’ve ever been in so, so long. And it’s you who fortunately gave me a second chance in this life. I'm so grateful for you, and words can’t even express how much you mean to me. A-And I’m sorry it took a while for me to realise that, and for hurting you in the process.” Eyes closing, he leans in to press his forehead against yours.

“And yes, it might take a bit more time to put this all behind me, and I-I apologise. But…I’m finally ready to take that leap with you. My heart is yours for the taking–as long as you’ll have me, that is. And I-I don’t expect you to forgive me now–I wouldn’t even forgive myself either. But, if it’s space that you want and need, I’ll respect that. But just know that I love you. And I’m sorry if I made it seem that I don’t, or don’t  show it enough. But believe me…I love you. I love you so damn much.” 

The sincere confession left you speechless, feeling yourself practically melt into his hands like pudding. A sensation akin to relief crashed over you like a wave, finally hearing the words that you longed for, for over a week. With a broken sigh, you cupped a hand over his own, leaning in to bask in his touch. Your breath then hitched at the realisation that he had taken off his wedding ring, no longer feeling the cold metal against your skin – it was only his warmth alone that welcomed you. Your chest suddenly felt immensely full, overwhelmed by his love and affection, but also by the guilt that came for your previous words and actions that night. Your furrowed your brows, your tears clouding your vision once more,  “Luci, I…I’m so sorry. I-I’m sorry for pushing you too much. I was being too selfish a-and I didn’t even stop to think about how you felt. I-I should’ve been more understanding and–” 

Lucifer was quick to hush you, wiping your tears and shaking his head. “Darling, no. There’s no need for you to apologise, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one in the wrong. And if anything, I needed that push.” He then leans in to press a lingering smooch on your forehead, “But I truly mean it when I say it, though. I do really love you. Being without you these past few days drove me insane–it’s crazy how much of an effect you have on me.” He tearfully chuckles. 

A smile made its way up to your quivering lips, a blush dusting your cheeks from the sweet remark, “I love you too, Luci.”  

Despite the wide grin that erupted on his face, it was humbled down by a tentative guise. “...Are we going to be okay?” He quietly asks, his eyes peering up at you in a hopeful manner. Your eyes softened at his uncertainty. Sniffling, you reach out and pull him into a hug, your face huddled into the crook of his neck. Lucifer was quick to return the gesture, holding you close and breathing in your comforting scent. Mumbling a response into his neck, you say something incomprehensible, causing the man to chuckle softly into your hair. “Come on. Use your words, love,” he teased against your ear. You giggled, all the while nodding your head, “Y-Yeah…we’ll be okay.” 

At that, Lucifer gently slowly pulled away, before leaning in to close the distance between you, pressing his lips against yours. The King inhaled your whimpers as the kiss grew increasingly sensual and near-desperate, his hands beginning to wander down your waist. Lucifer then stood up from the ground, your lips remaining connected as he pushed you flat against the bed. Straddling your hips between his legs, his lips began to trail down your neck, biting and pecking at your feverish skin, all the while dragging his hands up your sides to pin your hands beside either side of your head. "Luci, please," you whined, feeling his sharp teeth graze above your pulse. He slowly made his way back up to meet you once more, pushing his tongue inside your mouth.

Eventually, the both of you unwillingly parted for air, foreheads pressed together as you both took a brief moment to catch your breath. You both stared at each other lovingly, basking in each others' presence. “You’re perfect for me, my angel,” Lucifer whispers, softly pecking both your cheeks, your nose, then at your lips, “never forget that.” 

It was clear that the both of you had some work to do, there was no question about that. He wasn’t as perfect as he made out to be, but neither were you. But since you have each other’s company, and with your newfound reconnection, you both knew that things will eventually turn out okay. 

A/N: And that brings us to the very end! Thank you for reading and all the support you've shown for this mini-series! I'll now be focusing on requests~

[itneverendshere]

it's my party, and i'll cry if i want to - r.c

request: I was wondering if you might write a Rafe x reader fic where Rafe forgets her birthday but then makes up with her?

you spent the entire day oscillating between disappointment and sadness. 

crying on your birthday was a common thing when you were growing up, a girlhood achievement. everyone did it.

but now? now that you had rafe? your birthdays were amazing. he always went out of his way to surprise you and cherish you. he would’ve never forgotten something as important as your day. 

at least you didn’t think he would, until today. yeah, long-distance had been tough on both of you since college started, and while rafe usually tried his best to make you feel special, today was different.

it had been radio silence. no messages. no missed calls. not even an instagram story reaction. and now, it was already past midnight, the day officially over. your birthday had come and gone, and he hadn’t acknowledged it once.

you lay on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to rationalize the situation. 

maybe something came up. maybe he had a family emergency or got caught up in one of his class projects. you wanted to believe that. rafe had never been perfect, but he had always tried when it came to you. this, though? It felt like a gigantic slap in the face. 

the soft sound of your door creaking open startled you from your thoughts. your heart raced in your chest, confused. you lived alone off-campus—no one ever came by unannounced. you sat up, wiping at your tired eyes, and just as you were about to call out, you saw him.

rafe stood there, looking haggard, his clothes slightly wrinkled, his hair messy from a long day. but the sight of him, standing in your doorway, made your heart stop. he was there. in person.

“rafe?” you nearly gasped, “what—what are you doing here?”

his blue eyes were filled with guilt, brows furrowed, he looked like he’d been through hell and back. he dropped his duffel bag onto the floor and took a hesitant step toward you. “baby—” his voice cracked. “’m so fucking sorry.”

you blinked, trying to process what was happening. “sorry for what? for not calling? for forgetting? for ignoring me all day?” you didn’t mean for your voice to sound so broken, but goddamit it was your birthday. and you spent it all alone because you were too depressed to step foot outside your stupid apartment without a text from him.

he took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “didn’t forget, baby. i swear. i was trying to surprise you, i was supposed to be here hours ago, but—” he sighed deeply, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair. “everything went to shit.”

your brow furrowed in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“i booked a flight,” he explained quietly, sitting down on the edge of your bed, his knee brushing against yours. “wanted to fly in and surprise you, to spend the whole day with you for your birthday. i didn’t want to say anything because i thought it’d be more special if i just showed up, y’know? but god must hate me or some bullshit.”

you watched him carefully, your heart beating faster, unsure where he was going with this.

“the flight got delayed—twice. then it got canceled. i spent hours trying to get on another one, but there were no other options. by the time i finally landed, it was already after midnight.” he looked down at his hands, which were fidgeting nervously. “and i know that’s no excuse, but—”

“why didn’t you call me?” you asked, “you could’ve let me know.”

rafe let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “couldn’t. my phone, uh, it broke.”

“what?” you asked, not sure if you heard him correctly.

“yeah.” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “when the flight got canceled for the second time, i—uh—i might’ve thrown my phone against a wall. i was so pissed baby, so stressed because i knew i was ruining the surprise, and then…i couldn’t even call or text you. i was stuck.”

you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. the image of rafe, frustrated and angry at an airport, throwing his phone in a fit of rage was almost too ridiculous to believe. 

“so, you didn’t forget?” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. you spent the entire day making up scenarios in your head, about how maybe he’d gotten tired of being with you, how maybe he had found someone new back in college.

“no, god, no,” he shook his head fervently. “i’d never forget your birthday.”

the sincerity in his voice made you want to cry like a baby all over again. there was still the lingering ache of loneliness and insecurity, of the day you spent thinking he had.

“i thought…” you swallowed, unable to hold back the tears, “i thought you didn’t care anymore. that we weren’t… enough. i was scared,” you admitted after a long pause. “that maybe you were pulling away. maybe we weren’t working anymore.”

rafe’s brows furrowed, and he quickly shook his head. “no. never. we’re working, okay? this long-distance bullshit—it sucks. but you and me? it’s forever, okay?”

you nodded slowly, “i really missed you.”

his expression dropped at your words, and in an instant, he was pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. his scent, the feel of him, it was all so familiar, so comforting. you buried your face in his chest.

“shh, baby,” he murmured, his hand running soothingly through your hair as he kissed the top of your head. “’m so sorry. i never meant to hurt you. fuck, i hate that i made you feel like that. i wanted today to be perfect for you.”

you sniffled, trying to calm your breathing as you clung to him. “it wasn’t perfect.”

“i know,” he whispered, “i messed up. should’ve found a way to reach you, should’ve figured it out. you don’t deserve that, not on your birthday, not ever.”

he had tried. he had wanted to be here. and while it hadn’t gone the way either of you planned, his presence now, his arms around you, felt like all you needed.

“you threw your phone?” you asked, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth despite everything.

rafe’s face flushed with embarrassment, but he chuckled softly. “yeah, it wasn’t my proudest moment, shattered pretty badly. i don’t even know if I can get it fixed.”

“that’s so stupid.”

he laughed softly at your words, the sound rumbling through his chest where you were still nestled. his arms tightened around you just a little, as if he was scared you might slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough. “i was so pissed, baby. i thought I was ruining everything.”

you pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your eyes red and puffy from the tears you’d been holding in all day. “you did ruin it,” you teased softly, though there was no real bite behind your words.

rafe still winced even thought he could tell you were joking, “maybe i could’ve borrowed someone’s phone at the airport, or... i don’t know, sent a smoke signal or something.”

it wasn’t the grand birthday surprise he’d been planning, and it wasn’t the perfect day you had imagined, but right now, having him here—seeing how much he cared—it was starting to feel like enough.

you snorted, “smoke signal, huh?”

he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at you as you audibly cooed at his dimples, "yeah, or, like... maybe hired a skywriter? whatever it took. i would've done anything to get to you."

you chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes, the lingering tears drying up now, “so dramatic.”

“’m serious,” he insisted as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing softly over your cheeks. “i’d swim across the damn ocean for you if i had to. swear to god, baby. nothing was going to stop me from getting here.”

the love in his eyes took your breath away. he wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better; you could see in his face, that he meant every word. the frustration and desperation of the day had taken its toll on him too. he had been trying so hard to be with you, to make your day special, and in that moment, you know much he hated that he couldn’t.

“you’ll make me cry again,” you groaned, feeling your heart swell with emotion. it wasn’t perfect, but the lengths he had gone to just to be with you made you want to kiss him stupid. he was here now, holding you like you were his entire world.

he leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your lips as he murmured, “’m sorry i messed it up. i hate that you spent the day feeling like i didn’t care. you mean everything to me.”

tour chest tightened, “i felt so alone, didn’t know what to think.”

“i know,” he replied softly, his hands gently holding your face. “but sweetheart, i don’t care if we’re a thousand miles apart, i’ll always be here when you need me. ’m not going anywhere.”

the tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from sadness, only from the overwhelming love you felt for him, for the boy who would go to any lengths just to be by your side.

“i love you,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you spoke the words.

rafe smiled, his eyes softening as he kissed you gently, his lips lingering against yours in a slow, tender moment. “i love you too. so much.”

you sighed into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his messy hair, pulling him closer. the pressure that had been sitting in your chest all day seemed to disappear as his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, as if he could keep all the hurt and disappointment away just by being near. it was just rafe—his hands gripping you like he couldn’t imagine to let you go, his lips coaxing out all the tension and loneliness you’d felt throughout the day. 

when he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours again, his lips curving into a playful smirk. “so… about the whole swimming across the ocean thing. think you’d be impressed?”

you giggled, rolling your eyes. “you’d probably drown halfway.”

“oh? so what i’m hearing is you don’t want your present.”

you nudged him playfully with your elbow. “i deserve at least three.”

“you want more presents now? greedy.”

you crossed your arms, trying to maintain your teasing tone despite the closeness, “you haven’t even wished me a happy birthday.”

he leaned back, elbows hitting the mattress as his lips morphed into a shit-eating grin, “was planning on doing it inside of you.”

you slapped his stomach, “don’t be disgusting.”

rafe’s grin only grew wider, clearly proud of himself. “just for you, baby,” he teased, sitting up to lean in close again, his lips ghosting over yours as he added in a low whisper, “happy birthday.”

the low timber in his voice and that god-sent southern drawl sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you forgot all about the worst birthday of your life. the way he was looking at you now, like you were the only person in the world that mattered, made everything else seem insignificant.

“you’re lucky you’re hot,” you murmured, kissing him softly, your lips brushing against his with a tenderness that made his heart do that funny thing.

“damn right,” he mumbled against your mouth, kissing you back with more fervor, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. “gonna make it up to you. all of it.”

you could only tilt your head back slightly as he kissed his way down your neck, your hands fisting in his hair, “i have class at 8.”

“nah,” he breathed against your skin, nose running up your neck, “you’re not leaving this bed for the next twenty-four hours.”

you couldn't help but smile as his lips trailed over your skin, “twenty-four hours?” you repeated breathlessly, your fingers tugging lightly at his hair, your heart fluttering. “you think i’ll skip class for you?”

he grinned against your collarbone, his breath hot and teasing, “know you will,” he murmured, his hands wandering over your sides, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. “i’ll make it worth your while.”

a soft laugh escaped you, "you're so cocky.”

"confident," he corrected with a smirk, lifting his head to meet your gaze. he brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his touch soft despite his rough hands, “i’ll spend the rest of the night making it up to you. making sure you know just how much i love you.”

leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his in a slow, lingering kiss, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him beneath your hands. 

“i love you,” you whispered against his lips, your voice barely a breath, but in that moment, you knew he heard every word.

“i love you more.”

[ja3yun]

Undercover Lover | P.JS

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.

[sanarsi]

Cheri Cheri Lady

stepfather!Reed Richards x f!Reader

Summary: Your stepdad fucks you on a sun lounger. Warnings: +18, MDNI, porn with a little bit of plot, professor!Reed (only mentioned so it’s not that important), age gap, daddy kink, fingering, nipple play, praise kink, unprotected PIV, creampie Wordcount: 2,5k An: This is especially for @joelssluttyknee (I’m sorry it took me so long). Not exactly professor vibe but still hope you like it :) Also, I want to thank you for 1k followers. Like— it’s kinda crazy how this blog grew so fast in such a short time. Love y’all and thank you so so so much!!! Music I worked with: Cheri Cheri Lady - Modern Talking

Masterlist

Warm days have finally arrived. Your weekend lounging on a deck chair has become a routine, and after a while, not just yours.

It wasn't even noon yet when you were adjusting your sunglasses, sipping iced tea, and listening to the radio in the background. A gentle smile appeared on your face as you noticed out of the corner of your eye your stepfather turning from his stomach to his back.

He only lasted one weekend of watching you through the kitchen window before he decided to join you every time under the pretext of ‘I turned pale and looked unhealthy’. Your mother obviously believed it, why wouldn't she? Reed was the epitome of a perfect husband and stepfather, and your mother was happy that you two were finally getting along again.

If only she knew how exactly the two of you got along…

“I’m going to the store, do you want anything?” Her voice echoed from somewhere in the direction of the house.

You didn’t even glance in her direction before you shouted back, “Nah, we’re good.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “Reed, take the chicken out of the freezer.”

“Sure, honey,” he replied, raising a hand to let her know he understood, in case she hadn’t heard him.

Just when you thought she had left because the silence was getting longer, she spoke again, "Remind your father to use sunscreen."

You rolled your eyes under your closed eyelids and sighed quietly.

"I've already done it twice."

"So do it a third time."

Like a martyr, you bent down to the grass for the cream, knowing your mother was watching everything. You didn't want to risk her wrath because ever since she started menopause, she had been unbearable.

“Apply it or you’ll burn yourself,” you said and placed the tube on his warm chest. He hissed at the sudden thermal shock, at which you started laughing and you could have sworn that you heard your mother snort quietly.

"Hag," he muttered under his breath.

"I'll be back by one." After a moment, her retreating footsteps could be heard, but before she left the house, her muffled scream rang out, "Chicken!"

Then there was only the slam of a door, the sound of an engine starting, and a large, warm hand on your thigh.

“You hear that?”

“Hm?” you murmured questioningly, even though you knew very well what he meant.

"We have an hour," he announced, allowing his hand to start moving towards your crotch. You flinched, pretending that you were actually shifting in the lounger, and sighed.

"Yeah, I don't know if—"

"Come to daddy."

You fell silent, feeling a hot flame bloom in your lower abdomen and looked to the side, immediately locking eyes with him. You loved teasing him but when he spoke to you in that tone and looked at you that way, you couldn't keep your guard up for long. His fingers tightened almost against your temple and you barely managed to keep from moaning.

“Come on, sweet girl.” He smiled encouragingly, nodding towards his thighs. You bit your lower lip, gaze sliding down his golden skin that was gleaming slightly from the sunlight.

You were shocked at how quickly he became the most handsome and attractive man in the world for you. Even though at first you resisted everything that was happening between you two, you quickly realized that it was pointless because Reed simply didn't give a shit.

You could be mad at him, tell him he's disgusting, that you should end it, and he never once took your words seriously, ended up fucking you on the desk in his office after class.

His hand tightened on yours, snapping you back to reality and pulled you gently towards him. You didn't even try to resist and just sat on top of him. You settled comfortably and he gladly helped you, using his fingers to massage your hips.

“Hi, daddy,” you started, immediately stepping into your favorite role.

“Hi, baby.” His smile was priceless.

At first, you were skeptical about this role-playing. It felt weird calling him that, considering your situation – he really was your father.

Well… stepfather.

Still, that's what your mother called him.

Help your father make dinner.

Father needs help in the garden

Go to the store with your father.

But surprisingly, it came easily and you started to enjoy it pretty quickly, and when you did, Reed was in seventh heaven. Sometimes you even called him dad in front of your mother, who was touched by it and he, who was turned on by this.

Then he liked to punish you for arousing him in the presence of that woman.

“You look so pretty in that pink swimsuit.” He hooked his fingers around the tie at your hip and slowly tugged on the string, letting the piece of material reveal your pussy.

“Thanks, I got it as a gift from my dad.”

“Hm,” he hummed, stroking your soft skin and watching, hypnotized, as his fingertips traveled down, getting closer to your core. “Your daddy knows what color perfectly highlights those sweet tits.”

Arousal hit your lower abdomen like a bucket of cold water. You sighed, shifting on his thighs, giving him the perfect opportunity to let his hand disappear beneath you. You shivered as you felt his thick fingers running along the length of your slit.

“Look at you, already so wet for daddy,” he purred in satisfaction and moved closer, pressing his lips to your neck. You moaned, closing your eyes and throwing your head back as he began to tease your hole so that more of your juices would wet his fingers. Wet kisses began to decorate your skin as he slowly made his way to your breasts. “Give me that sweet cherry. Need to taste her.”

You looked down with your mouth parted and slowly pushed the material covering your tits aside. Not even a second had passed before it was in his mouth. You watched as his tongue circled the hard nipple and he sucked it in with a purr. His fingers slowly entered you deeper, sending a wave of shivers every time he curled them. Soft moans began to leave your lips and you allowed yourself to play with his hair to somehow ground yourself and not drown in the pleasure.

“Daddy…” you sighed, slowly rubbing your hips.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, without breaking away from your tit. You shuddered as his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh.

“Need you, daddy. Please.”

“My big girl needs me?” You nodded eagerly, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning louder. “Want daddy’s cock?” He finally looked at you and you couldn't help but smile widely.

He loved seeing you like this, loved making you carefree and happy. He would sin if he left you to your fate.

"Mhm," you hummed, hugging him tighter and moving closer, impaling yourself more on his fingers. An uncontrollable moan escaped your throat because his two fingers were definitely enough to make you lose your breath.

Reed smacked his lips disapprovingly as he saw the small frown forming between your brows. “So thirsty.”

He reached his other hand down to his shorts and squeezed his hard cock. A soft growl escaped him as he slowly began to pump himself through his pants.

"Daddy's already so damn hard for you, baby. Need to feel that sweet little cunt throbbing all over my cock."

You howled, feeling more aroused by the fact that he was touching you and himself at the same time. You fell silent, staring at each other with eyes filled with desire. His cock hardened every time you rode his fingers, moaning softly. He loved hearing the sounds that left your lips when he pleasured you. Your clit began to throb as you chased your fulfillment but Reed had other plans for you.

He pulled his fingers out of you, which was met with a whine from you. “Daddy, please…” you begged desperately to feel him inside you.

He looked at you with pity. “My poor little thing,” he smacked, gently stroking your cheek. He wanted to tease you some more but then he felt your juices dripping down his thigh and he barely held back an animalistic growl. “Fuck. Come ‘ere baby.”

He quickly slid his shorts down enough to pull his cock out. Your mouth watered at the sight of his glistening precum as it slowly dripped down his length. You immediately lifted your hips and moved closer to him. He held one hand around the base and the other caressed your thigh.

“Sit down,” he ordered without taking eyes off your pussy. He didn't have to tell you twice.

You slowly lowered your hips, allowing his head to slide inside and gasped before letting all your weight fall against him. You both moaned as your bodies were able to connect again after a few days of being apart. He wanted to enjoy this feeling but you didn't give him a chance, starting to rub yourself against him. His cock smoothly teased your cervix and happy trail your clit.

"I missed you," you sighed with a lazy smile and moved closer, resting your forehead against his. He hissed as you tightened around him.

“I missed you too, baby girl.”

He gripped your hips, helping you speed up your movements. You dug your nails into nape of his neck and your moans dying in his mouth as he kissed you deeply. His lips tasted even better than last time, and even though you were riding him, your desire only seemed to grow.

You responded to his wet kisses with commitment and started to lift your hips a little so that you could fall on him and let him painfully but pleasantly penetrate you. Reed was breathing heavily, a throaty groan leaving him each time he buried himself inside you to the very base.

If you could, you would try to take him deeper so his balls could also experience the feeling of being inside your warm core. You were horny for him and didn't even try to hide it, which only gave him more pleasure.

"Easy, baby, we have an hour, not ten minutes, and that's how long I will last if you don't slow down,” he warned, amused by how eagerly you were jumping on his dick. Not that it bothered him, he just wanted to enjoy you a little but you obviously had other plans.

“Can’t. Need you so bad, daddy,” you squealed in desperation. Reed rarely saw you like this, so he figured that this once, he could give you exactly what you needed. He hugged you and started to rub your back soothingly.

“Then maybe daddy can help you a little, hm?” he suggested and you honestly had no idea what to expect because despite his warm tone, there was a dangerous sparkle in his eyes. But you were too desperate to think about it, let alone care, so you nodded eagerly.

“Yes, please.”

That was enough for him to reconnect your lips in a kiss and his arms wrapped around you way too tightly. You sucked in a breath as you realized he was trying to immobilize you. You whimpered impatiently and let him shift slightly beneath you. Just a few inches was enough for the angle at which he entered you to make your hips tremble. You had time to get used to the new feeling and get everything you could from it, but that wasn't the point and you found out about it quite aggressively.

“Hold still,” he threw before he started to thrust his hips up.

Hard.

You opened your eyes wide, gasping for air as he entered you with aggressive movements and slowly pulled out. The moans started to become more like cries each time he entered you harder, deeper.

“Fuck— Daddy!” you screamed, clinging to his neck and bit your lip hard, trying to hold back your animal sounds.

Reed was too focused on fucking you to care if you were getting oversensitive.

Until safeword didn’t leave your lips, his mind would drift and his primal instincts would take over. He was just a man who had the exclusive possession of a wet, tight pussy whose owner he loved like crazy.

“Shh, just need to remind this sweet little hole ‘bout good manners,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “She clearly forgot that sucking daddy's cock like that is very selfish of her.”

You squealed louder and clung to him tighter as the burning sensation began to turn into the ever-increasing waves of an approaching orgasm. The sound of flesh slapping flesh and wetness of your cunt when his cock entered you was mind-blowing.

"Daddy just wanted to enjoy you a little and here you are, so greedy and needy. Not nice, baby. Not. Nice,” he smacked his lips with disapproval. You could barely catch your breath, let alone understand his words, but you knew he wasn't pleased because with each word he thrust into you harder and harder.

“Gonna come,” you managed to say.

"Oh and now you're gonna cum without my permission? What a naughty girl."

After these words you felt him playfully hit your cheek. You whined like a wounded animal as his cock sent the last waves of pleasure into your core before you disintegrated in his arms. You started to tremble as you milked his cock and he just laughed with satisfaction.

“That’s right, baby. So beautiful when you cum all over daddy’s cock,” he praised you and pressed you harder against his chest, letting himself ride out his orgasm. “Want me inside?”

His whisper against your ear sent another wave of shivers down to your core. You clenched around his cock, earning a heavy pant from him in response.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Attagirl.”

Then it was just your hypersensitive throbbing pussy and his seed flowing out of you as he continued to thrust until he came down from his peak, panting heavily.

You lay helplessly on his chest, bathed in sweat and sun. His heart was beating hard, you could feel his strength on your cheek. You spent a few minutes in silence, calming your breaths and every now and then, his lips found their way to your forehead, placing gentle kisses there while he stroked your hair.

The exhaustion was taking its toll, you were fulfilled lying comfortably in his arms bathed in warm rays. You didn't need anything more for your eyelids to start getting heavy.

"I would let you sleep like this but we have to make dinner before your mother gets back," he said with a soft smile which earned you a tortured groan in response. You sat up and looked down at him before you placed a few more soft kisses on his lips.

"Yeah, okay," you nodded, getting up from the lounger and started to fix your swimsuit. Reed stood up right after you and slapped your ass before heading home. You looked at his bare back and felt like a hungry animal watching his muscles work.

This man was going to be the death of you and that was for sure.

[fkinavocado]

Warnings: 18+, smut, subrry, unprotected sex, friends to lovers

Part One/ alternatively, read on wattpad

Pretty like yours: Part Two (word count: 8.5k)

Harry was avoiding you.

At first you thought you were imagining things, but as the evening progressed, you realised he really was avoiding you. 

You didn’t know how you’d ended up here, though.

Back at the hotel on that weekend beach trip, you’d heard your (very loud) group of friends coming back from dinner and you both scurried to put some clothes on and unlock the door, just in time for Mitch to open said door to the room he was sharing with Harry and for a few more of your friends to make themselves right at home on the bed that you’d just had sex on.

And that was some pretty amazing sex. Amazing enough that you were expecting a repeat, but not only did that not happen, nothing else happened either. You were leaving the next day, and, although there really hadn’t been a moment where the two of you could talk it out, he never reached out when you got back home.

You were expecting a call, a text, anything to at least acknowledge that he’d also had a great time in your company. 

Instead,… radio silence.

For the first few days you just kept finding excuses for him. Maybe he was feeling confused, after all- he’d just gotten out of a long term relationship. Maybe he still loved Marissa. Maybe he was feeling guilty. Hell, maybe he regretted it completely. 

But… you were friends, first and foremost. And you’d slept together, which, even in your books as someone who enjoyed casual sex, still meant something, something worth acknowledging!

As days went on it was becoming more and more apparent that Harry had just had a bit of fun with you, and he wasn’t even planning on a repeat based on how he was acting like it never happened. You blamed yourself for making your promiscuous ways known amongst your group. You’d never thought of it in that light before, because you’d never been hurt in the process before. If you ever hooked up with someone it was clear from the get go that was all it was ever going to be. But now, the fact that Harry had assumed that’s all you wanted and nothing more… when it definitely wasn’t the case, well, it didn’t sit well with you at all.

But you’d have never expected him to completely ignore you once you all hung out again, least of all at your friends’ wedding. This was downright rude, and it was making you feel pretty shitty. You’d looked forward to it, knowing he’d be there, even gotten all dolled up looking your very best. You’d been more than ready to finally talk it out with him and maybe, hopefully, figure out what was going on. Part of you still refused to believe he just didn’t give a fuck.

But looking at him now, you tended to believe it.

Harry was keeping himself busy at all times, talking to seemingly everyone else. Dancing with girls that weren’t you. Laughing with your friends and people you didn’t even know. Hell, he was having a grand ol’ time, never once even glancing your way.

For the first half of the day, you just wallowed in your disappointment. You’d never have pegged Harry for the fuckboy that would operate a hit and run, but… at the end of the day, you two really weren’t that close to know for sure. 

But since this was a wedding you were both attending, your friends’ wedding, you couldn’t really sulk for the entirety of it. So for the party you tried your best to put on a brave act and pretend like you were having a good time. Even flirt a bit, preferably in his vicinity.

Because if there was one thing for certain, that was Harry’s attraction for you. He couldn’t have faked that. And since he was proving that boys will be boys, this would probably not sit well with him either.

The guy you were currently dancing with on the same dancefloor Harry was dancing with some (albeit very pretty) girl was getting a bit too handsy for your liking, and normally you’d have set some boundaries and maybe even stopped dancing with him altogether- that is if you weren’t noticing Harry scowling all of a sudden. You still never caught him looking your way, but he was visibly upset, and judging by the sweet smile on his partner’s face, it wasn’t because of her. 

The way this guy was downright groping you was making you feel even worse, though. Reaffirming somehow what had been dancing through your mind for the past 2 weeks since the beach trip- that you were seen as  an easy girl and that you’d been foolish to think Harry would even assume otherwise based on everything he knew about you directly from the source. And after getting cheated on, the last thing he needed was someone who he thought was putting out for everyone as easily as you had with him. Even telling him you’d had a huge crush on him for the longest time, he still must’ve had his mind made up about you, and you were just someone he knew he could have some fun with, no strings attached.

But for the purpose of making Harry jealous, you allowed this guy to get a little too close. You didn’t even know his name and he was trying to kiss you, his hands dangerously close to your bum. 

You kept dodging his attempts but still flirted with him, which only spurred him on. And chancing some glances Harry’s way, you told yourself it was worth it. Especially when you finally caught him staring your way, and he didn’t even bother pretending like he hadn’t been.

What you didn’t expect though was for him to say something to the girl he was dancing with without breaking eye contact with you, then leaving her in the middle of the dancefloor, approaching you in quick, long strides. 

“Sorry mate, need to borrow Y/N for a quick minute.”

And just like that you found yourself being ushered away, Harry’s hand on the small of your back urging you forward at a steady pace.

“Why are you doing this?” he finally spat as soon as you turned a corner a bit further away from the heart of the party.

You’d never seen Harry like this. He was usually just this easy going guy, almost took things in stride, you’d never seen him get into a heated argument with someone. His tone and body language were therefore taking you aback. Sure, you’d expected a reaction out of him- actually, hoped for one, the moment you decided you’d start openly flirting with other guys there right in front of him, but this was surprising.

“Doing what?”

He took a step closer towards you, making you step back and into the wall behind. You weren’t scared of him, not in the least, if anything his pained expression overshadowed his frown lines. “It’s bad enough that you… you, you used me… but this?! Why must you rub it in my face like this?”

“...Used you?!”

Harry scoffed, taking in your confused expression. “Yeah. Used. Took advantage of. Discarded me like it meant nothing the second Mitch and the others came back from dinner. I know you’re fine to  just… hook up with people, but you never even so much as looked my way again that whole night! Like I was some sort of dirty secret you had to keep away from the group. Like I was… fucking worthless…”

“Harry…”

“And then you never gave me a sign afterwards, confirming that indeed, you’d just had your fun and it meant nothing–”

“Excuse me?! Harry, you never gave a sign afterwards either!”

“I tried seeking you out that very night, tried catching your eye, I wanted to talk about it, see where we stood, but when you never so much as looked my way once– not even once! I just figured… if I was wrong, then surely you’d say something but then the next day you were already gone before I even came down for breakfast!”

“Yeah– I had to leave early ‘cause I had to go into work that afternoon to make up for Friday… God, Harry! Way to jump to conclusions! I didn’t want the rest to know, because it’s none of their business, not because it was a secret. We hadn’t had the chance to talk about it so I didn’t know how to handle it, and I just got extra paranoid, I guess, in trying to not seem suspicious. Like, I was mortified when they nearly walked in on us, and our hair was all over the place, your braids had gotten undone, the bed was a mess, I’m sure the room reeked of sex, and I just felt like everybody knew! And I guess I just avoided looking at you altogether to try and save face… I didn’t even realise I was doing it, honestly. They never brought it up, though, so… I guess I was just being paranoid for nothing.”

Harry hung his head shaking it in disbelief then turned away from you, pacing a few steps then turning back to you. “You know, you could at least be honest with me now. Just tell me, give it to me straight. I can take it. Just tell me I wasn’t good enough–”

“What? Harry–”

“I mean, clearly there must be something wrong with me, right? Since my ex cheated and you wouldn’t even look me in the eye. Clearly it’s me.”

You pushed yourself off the wall “Harry, stop this! What the fuck are you on about! I swear that was it, I was just paranoid they all knew we’d just fucked, and then I had to leave first thing the next morning but I waited for you to call! Alright?! I waited! You just ghosted me! Like… why was I the one that should’ve reached out, first of all, and secondly- I thought you just needed some space. Time to process what had happened! You’re clearly hurting, and you’re clearly not over Marissa, and you might still love her for all I know and maybe you regretted it! Maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing that you regretted and just wanted to forget, maybe it’d been just something to try and get her out of your system, or to get even with her– fuck if I know! I just know that, at first, I kept telling myself you needed some time to figure out what you wanted and how you felt about it. And then days just kept rolling one after the other with no word from you and I figured I must’ve been right. For all I knew you and Marissa may have gotten back together!”

Harry watched you shout all that in his face, his nostrils flared and chest heaving, then ran his hands through his long hair and down his face. He slowly removed them after calming down a bit, “No, we’re definitely not back together. I hardly had any time to mope about her and what she’s done, I’ve been too focused on you. And not just… in a bad way. Like, I wasn’t just hurting over feeling rejected by you. Like, even now, dragging you here to talk it out… even watching you blatantly flirt with all those guys…” he eyed your right hand then reached to grab it and after a quick look around to make sure no one was watching he brought it to his crotch, pressing his hand over yours to make sure you felt just how hard he was underneath his dress pants. “Feel that? Tell me why I can’t make this go away. No matter how much I abuse myself it’s right back up again at the thought of what happened between us. You made me feel–” he inhaled sharply, twitching against your palm and your mouth fell agape at the sudden change in his demeanour. “Fuck, Y/N, like no one’s ever made me feel before. And then you took it away…” he whined, and you squeezed your hand against his hard-on making his whine turn into a moan.

You could see someone exit the bathroom from your peripheral vision to your far right, and you removed your hand and grabbed his loose tie instead, dragging him towards it. Praying no one was inside, you pulled him into the bathroom for disabled, and luckily, it was vacant. Harry laughed- genuinely laughed at how ridiculous and wrong this was, of course, and you just yanked at his tie harder before you locked the door behind you. “Listen, if someone needs it, all they have to do is knock!”

“Sure. Won’t be weird at all when two people scramble out of it.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we reach it. Thought you had a bit of a problem worth tending to, or was I mistaken?”

Harry’s eyes darkened considerably at your proposal but he seemed to sober up just as quickly when he stopped your hand from reaching his belt. “Wait. Wait, what does this mean? We’ve both clearly fucked up waiting for the other to reach out, I don’t wanna assume anything anymore. Or wait for you to make the first move. I want you. More than just for tonight, more than just for this. I don’t do casual. You should’ve known this about me by now, but I understand why you thought I maybe wanted to try something casual after that whole long term shitshow. I know you do, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but if that’s all you want with this, then I don’t know if we should–”

You kissed him, cutting him short. He was just so adorable trying to blurt all that out and you just couldn’t wait a moment longer before you told him what he wanted to hear “Harry, in case you forgot what I told you last time, when, granted, you may have been a bit distracted, so I’ll let it slide– I’ve had the fattest crush on you ever since we met. And no, that doesn’t just mean I’ve been meaning to jump your bones, it means- what you experienced tonight? Watching me flirt with those guys? That was nothing compared to how I’ve had to watch you and Marissa for all that time, watching you not only flirt with her, but… care for her, respect her, make her laugh, soothe her,... love her. I haven’t had that, with anymore. I don’t know what it’s like to be in love. Don’t know what it’s like to be loved. And maybe the reason why I haven’t given anyone a real chance all this time is because, since I’ve met you, you raised the bar to the point where all the guys I meet just fall short. They can’t match up to the standard I have now, which is you. And I’m not saying this to put any pressure on this, whatever this is… Maybe it’s not going to turn into that, with us, and it’s fine. But for the first time, I feel something different, with you. It’s why I was acting like a fucking child just then, because I was hurt. I felt like I had my chance with you and blew it.”

“Fuck, Y/N… You didn’t blow it. Not at all. I did, I should’ve done this proper. Should’ve taken it slow. But I thought this is how you liked to go about things, just jump right in, I wanted to be… what you wanted. Wanted to be good for you, and maybe then you’d give me a chance. Had I known that’s how you felt about me I would’ve waited, asked you out, done it all proper. Instead, I just acted like all the guys before me… I guess… I must’ve not met the standard I’d set myself.”

“No, that’s not it. I don’t regret what happened, Harry. Not for a moment. I regret being foolish and overthinking it, and I should’ve just reached out. We were both a couple of idiots, can we agree on that?”

“Alright,” his sweet smile adorned his face once more, his deep dimples carving into his cheeks. “Can we agree on something else?”

“Hm?”

“That we’re a thing? Like, officially? I still wanna take you out and backtrack a bit, but we know eachother enough that I think we can tell if it’s something we both want or not…”

You matched his smile and his only got wider at your reaction. “Yes, Harry. We’re a thing.”

He let go of your hand and used both his to cup your cheeks and kiss you properly. It was hard to kiss while smiling as wide as you both were, but eventually you both relaxed into it and it slowly got more and more intense. 

He broke the kiss when he suddenly pulled away and groaned, resting his forehead against yours. “Why can’t I keep myself in check around you? This is not how I wanted this to happen, you deserve better. Not just another quickie hiding away from our friends...”

“I decide what I deserve, and I think I’ve earned watching your pretty face all blissed out while you come inside my mouth. Haven’t I?”

“Fuck, Y/N…”

“Will you deny me, Harry?”

“Of course not, baby, you can have anything you want. I’m all yours...” Harry groaned then leaned his forehead against yours “I just hate that this is all happening in the loo like this.”

You both chuckled at that and you whispered “Well, we’re not taking the traditional route, we’ve already established that. But we can wait, if it’s putting you off.”

Harry exhaled shakily “I know I should do the gentlemanly thing and have us wait, but if you don’t touch me soon I’m afraid I won’t live to see that day.”

You giggled at that “What a drama queen. We can’t have that though, can we? I just love to see you all desperate for me like this. Would’ve been disappointed if you made us wait, puppy…”

At that you pressed your palm flat against his erection yet again and he moaned, letting you push him against the door and kiss down his neck as you worked his belt loose.

You slid down to your knees, your slip dress doing a poor job at cushioning your skin against the cold, dirty tiles, but you honestly couldn’t give less of a fuck, not when you’d taken his pants down with you and was face to face with his boxers. Harry had unbuttoned his shirt hastily, pulling it open, and his dick was pushing out of the waistband of his boxers, his leaky tip visible. 

“Is it wrong that I’ve been dying to do this? Get my mouth on you. Even while being mad at you… I kept fantasising about what you might taste like.” You nosed at his erection through the cloth and you could already hear him panting in anticipation as you pulled him out. “You smell so good. Always smell so good. Love your cologne, but love the smell of your skin, the smell of you, even more.”

“Please… please…”

“Please what, puppy? Be a good boy and use your words for me,” you fluttered your eyelashes looking up at him, and it was taking every ounce of willpower to pry your eyes off of his cock. It really was a sight to behold and you felt your mouth water, eager to get a taste finally.

You loved when he got all flustered, but even so, he managed a breathy “please take me inside that pretty mouth, I can’t wait any longer, need to feel you, missed you…”

He sounded so desperate and needy you didn’t even wait for him to finish before you began kissing along his shaft, wet sloppy kisses, getting him all slippery before fitting the head in your mouth. It was already quite the mouthful and you moaned around him hoping to convey the message. 

Harry slumped against the door, losing his footing a bit.  “Oh, fuck, Y/N…”

“Taste so good. You’re just sweet all over aren’t you, pretty?” Harry whined, he was such a slut for a bit of praise and you loved it. He deserved every bit of it anyway, visibly melting at the praise but his cock got even harder if anything. “You’re gonna burst baby, I can feel it, can taste it. Want me to swallow it all up? I bet it’s gonna be a lot… you’re so big and heavy in my mouth, probably gonna choke on it…”

“Fuck, please, yes, please, please– I’m gonna–”

You deepthroated him then, and you felt him stiffen completely as you did so, then his whole body shuddered violently as he came down your throat, flooding your mouth instantly as you pulled back up a bit, choking like you predicted you would. You swallowed around him quickly, but could still feel his come dribbling down through the corners of your mouth, and Harry tried to wipe it away as he was crying out in pleasure- still careful with you even in the throes of passion.

When you finally pulled away you just stared at each other, both panting heavily. “What happened to asking for permission, hm?”

Harry’s eyes widened ashe helped you up, tucking himself away, snapping right back into action with the realization of what he’d done. He stammered to say something but you pulled him by the tie he was still wearing even with his dress shirt unbuttoned and kissed him passionately. He moaned deeply and you figured he must’ve never tasted himself before to garner this reaction from him, even now after he’d orgasmed. “You’re so in trouble, puppy. I let it slide once, the first time- remember? You’re not getting off the hook this time.”

Harry gulped and if you didn’t know any better you thought he was gonna ask you to make good of this threat right there and then. “Gonna punish me?”

You nodded. “Yes. But I’ll spring it upon you unsuspectedly. Just know you’re in for it. For now… I think we need to get back out there before people report us missing.”

Harry whined. “But…”

“Hm? Are you not satisfied with what you got? You greedy puppy…”

“Of course I am. Jesus, Y/N. I saw stars for a moment there. I just–I want…”

“You need a bit of aftercare, don’t you? Want me to hold you and love on you a bit?”

Harry paused, as if not expecting you to have guessed it. “–Yes. I want that. Very much. And I want to make you feel good too…”

“Tell you what. Let’s go dance. You can hold me as tight as you want. You can kiss me. I don’t care what our friends say or if they put two and two together. Alright? As for returning the favor, there’s no such thing, Harry. We’re not keeping score, are we?”

“Of course not. It’s not that I feel I have to, I want to. I just wish I could take you home tonight… but I do want to take you out first, on a real date, spoil you a bit. Wanna treat you right.”

“Coming down my throat is treating me right, Harry. I wanted this, remember? I’m not a porcelain doll. Trust me. And I will wait, because I wanna treat you right too, and I can tell this is important to you. Now let’s go out there, if you’re comfortable with our friends seeing us together, that is.”

Harry scoffed as he righted all his clothing and you checked your appearance in the mirror, “they’re lucky I’m not stealing the DJ’s mic to announce it to the whole venue.”

You laughed at that as Harry checked if the coast was clear for the two of you to hurry out of the bathroom. He then took your hand and led you back to the dancefloor, where, as luck would have it, they’d switched to some slow dancing. Just what Harry needed, as he pulled you into his arms, your head rested on his chest, you swayed to the music and pretended it was just the two of you in that moment you’d never forget.

*

Your friends were nice enough not to interrupt your moment on the dancefloor and even afterwards, they didn’t inquire, probably so they didn’t make the evening about you two, since this was someone else’s wedding- but boy did they blow up your phone the following days. Harry shared that he’d been answering texts about it just the same, and, well, it was official. The two of you were a couple and your friends were nothing but surprised. 

Of course most of the girls had figured something had happened that day at the beach when they came back at the hotel and heard the door unlock just before they reached it. Then there was other incriminating evidence- your dishevelled appearances, the unmade bed, and the charged atmosphere. Not to mention, it reeked of sex, as per Sarah. 

You were glad it was all out in the open though, you didn’t wanna have to sneak around even if it would’ve probably been better to navigate this at your own pace at least at the beginning. You two weren’t planning on spending time with your friends too soon, though. The first free night that worked for both of you was already booked for the infamous date Harry was gonna take you on.

You agreed to meet at the restaurant solely because you didn’t trust yourselves to have Harry pick you up from your place and ditch the whole date altogether. You hadn’t seen eachother since the wedding, almost an entire week, and, well… texting was nice, but even that you were losing control over. 

You two needed to be alone, ASAP.

But the date was also something you were looking genuinely forward to. You’d barely had any time coming home from work to shower and change into something a lil bit more flirty, touched up your makeup the tiniest bit and rushed to get to the restaurant where Harry texted he’d already gotten to, a little bit earlier than what you’d agreed on. 

You wanted to text him back that he was a cute, eager puppy but you refrained. You genuinely wanted this date to be more than just sexual innuendo, you felt like you two needed time one on one doing more than just devouring each other.

When you finally arrived, Harry’s face lit up immediately upon seeing you. He pecked your lips and helped you to your seat and you were already wondering how you were gonna get through the night without another bathroom interlude. He looked absolutely yummy, his signature skinny jeans and a flowy, half buttoned down short sleeve shirt, his curls brushing his shoulders and his eyes rounded and sparkly. You made a mental note not to stare at his pink, shiny lips but you caught yourself doing so an embarrassing amount of times before you even got to order.

You weren’t hungry in the moment though, you barely touched your food, and it looked like Harry was on the same boat. You were too busy talking, and the conversation was flowing. You talked about your common friends for a bit to ease into it, then it went to your work places, then the inevitable subject arose- your exes.

“You know I’ve never really had a serious relationship. So there’s not much to tell… you can ask me if you want, but I genuinely wouldn’t know where to start and what would even be relevant. I am, however, interested in hearing more about what went down with Marissa… but we don’t have to talk about it right now. Just… feel free to open up whenever you feel comfortable. Or, I don’t know. Tell me to get lost if you just don’t wanna talk about it at all.”

Harry smiled at that but he’d visibly gotten quieter since the subject had been brought up. “No, I want to talk to you about it. As you know it’s still fairly recent but that’s not the issue… the issue is how it ended and I just– I don’t know how to handle my feelings about it? I feel like I’ve just kept pushing them down and I don’t know how to work through them so that I can properly move on. I don’t want it to affect us in any shape or form. And I don’t want you to feel like I’m dwelling on the past instead of being present here with you, ‘cause it’s not like that…”

You reached across the table for his hand and squeezed it, but he didn’t let it go and you smiled at how nervous he seemed to be talking about this. “Have you spoken to anyone about this? The guys,...?”

“No, I mean… you saw how much they like to tease me about it. Can’t exactly open up and give them even more ammo can I? I’ve been talking to my sister a bit about it… I don’t know. She says I need closure. That I need to confront Marissa about what happened and hold her accountable somehow. But I just, I don’t know… isn’t that a bit pathetic? She cheated on me, what more is there left to say? I can blame her all I want, that won’t change what happened.”

“Wish I had any sound advice, but I just don’t know what you could do to make yourself feel better, baby. I’m sorry. Times like these when I really wish I had some experience in matters of the heart.”

Harry looked at you from underneath his lashes, “you really haven’t been in love before?”

You shrugged, “I know. I’m a weirdo, huh? I don’t know, it just never happened…”

“You’re not a weirdo,” Harry squeezed your hand. “I know it’s very caveman of me, but I love that. You haven’t really let anyone in, nobody has won your heart over, and I’m all the more excited to maybe– hopefully be your first.”

You mirrored Harry’s charged gaze and you had to admit, he could be onto something there, if the way your heart sped up at that was any indication.

“But… yeah… having said that. It was wise of you to protect your heart like that. I just throw myself head first into it. I fall hard and fast. And contrary to recent events, that’s not something that applies to all areas of my life, I promise.” 

You threw your head back laughing and you had to remind yourself you were at a nice restaurant. Harry’s goofy grin made it even more funny. “Alright, okay… we’ll… assess later on. Are you telling me that you just fall for anyone, though? Am I just one of many?” You flipped your hair dramatically, evidently making a joke but Harry pulled your arm by the hand so that you scooted closer still.

“Not in a million years, Y/N. You’re very special to me, always have been. Please don’t say that. Yes I may fall easily but I lose interest pretty easily, too. Have had many short term relationships. This might be the reason I don’t do casual, I just can’t keep my heart out of it. But down the line I realize it’s just infatuation, and that they aren’t who I painted them to be in my head, you know? I idealize people a bit, I guess. I’m dramatic like that, quite the hopeless romantic. My past relationships have fizzled out pretty early, apart from this one with Marissa and a couple before her. But you? I’ve known you for so long… and you are who you say you are, you know? You’re so unapologetically you. I’ve seen the good, the bad–”

“The bad?!”

“Yeah, sure, like how cranky you are in the morning, how bad you are at remembering birthdays…”

You scoffed, kicking his shin under the table playfully, “excuse me?!”

“Oh, shush,” he grinned. “Like I was saying- I’ve seen the good, the bad, and even while being in love I still had a soft spot for you all that time. Kinda made me question my integrity.”

“You mean when you were fantasizing about me while fucking your ex?”

Harry shook his head, covering his face with his free hand, “I knew I shouldn’t have told you about that.”

“You never told me it was while you were in bed with her! Earlier when you told me you kinda alluded to just thinking about me when you got yourself off, I was just pulling your leg just now!” You laughed incredulously, “Jesus, Harry, for real?!”

Harry turned a deep shade of red and you had to fight his hand away from his face. He bit his lower lip and shrugged, “I tried not to. It just kept happening. I felt really bad for it, too, so much so that it kinda…” he cleared his throat, turning more bashful, “affected my performance. I still wonder if this is why she cheated, perhaps I just wasn’t satisfying her with the way it’d die on me midway like that… it happened a few times, not too many, but still she kept making it out to be a huge deal which just made me overthink it going further.”

“Oh my God, Harry. Baby. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this was such a touchy subject. Sorry I brought it up…”

“No, don’t be… I even thought I should mention it anyway, just in case it… happens again? Like, it didn’t, back at the hotel, but I was so excited it would’ve been impossible i reckon, plus- yeah. It wasn’t my best performance, let’s just put it that way. But hey at least that didn’t happen,” he chuckled nervously.

“Wait, no, don’t deflect with humour. You alluded at this back at the wedding, too. Said how you thought you maybe hadn’t been good enough and that’s why I hadn’t reached out? Harry, you’re insane– like, first of all, let’s just clear that up, alright? I’m not in the habit of stroking men’s ego just for the hell of it. In fact, I refrain from doing so because, really, that’s just a bad idea generally, let’s be honest. But, Harry, baby, that was just amazing. You made me feel incredible. Plus it was a new dynamic for you, I could tell you were nervous and wanted to do good, and you delivered an amazing performance all things considered. I was really impressed, to tell you the truth. Kinda been wondering if you rose up to the expectation, and you surpassed it.”

“I–wow... Really?”

“Uhm, yes?! You’re the real deal baby. Not that often you come across a well endowed man that actually knows how to operate the equipment.”

Harry bit his lower lip again, this time to avoid grinning ear to ear. Here it was, that praise kink again. You wondered if you’d live to regret telling him all this later on, but for now, it was pleasing you tremendously to see him react like this to your words of affirmation.

“Ahem, well… wow. Ok. Thank you for reassuring me. But as I previously stated, and not to sound like all this has already gone to my head… I can definitely do better.”

“Colour me intrigued.”

Harry cleared his throat, “but, just to backtrack a bit. I don’t want you to think this is something I normally do.”

“What?”

“Think about other women in bed. It’d never happened to me before. Actually, this whole discussion started from me telling you how special you were, the way you never really left my mind. But I’m realizing this might make you feel weird, or uncomfortable, so I apologise. I’m just being honest… I’m not proud of it, by any means, Marissa didn’t deserve that- well, not at the moment she didn’t. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. That being said, I don’t want this to make you ever wonder if I’m thinking about someone else while we’re together. I really do mean it when I say you’re special, Y/N. It’s not just the physical attraction, it’s like I said… I’ve known you a long time now. You’re someone I want to be around, like, all the time. Wanna bask in your presence. I realized I don’t feel the same way about any of my other friends. Haven’t felt the same about my exes aside from the initial honeymoon phase, either. I just… never get my fill of you, you know?”

You sat there, taking that all in and you had the presence of mind to come to the realization that no one had ever spoken about you like this, ever. Nobody has made you feel special. You didn’t consider yourself to be special, anyway. This was completely novel to you, and you had no idea how to react to it other than feel your heart rate pick up again. “Gosh, Harry… that’s… a lot to take in.”

Harry then hastily sat up and moved to the seat closer to you instead of across the table, still holding your hand this whole time. “I’m sorry, am I coming on too strong? Or did I make you feel uncomfortable? Both?”

You smiled at his worry and finally released your hand from his to caress the side of his face, “no, pretty. It’s just… no one’s made me feel like that before… you know? Like I was special, somehow. It’s just so foreign to me, and I don’t know what to do with myself now. All I know is that I’ve always felt the same about you, but, Harry- everyone feels that way around you. I mean, this can’t be news to you, surely you notice the attention you get everywhere you go, you just have this magnetic quality about you. It’s the way you give the person you’re talking to your undivided attention, make them feel like all your focus is concentrated on them and nothing else, the way you just light up a room and draw everyone to you like moths to a flame, your charisma, your charm, your gorgeous self. So me telling you how special you are must be something you’ve heard plenty of times. I just never thought someone like you could feel like I was special. Sure, the chemistry between us is undeniable but that’s a different matter, at least that’s what I think you meant…”

“It is, of course it is. I’m so excited for this, Y/N. And it’s not just the usual way I get excited about a new partner. It’s like… finally, I’m finally with the person I wanted all along, feels like I’ve arrived somewhere rather than just departed from somewhere else, you know?”

You twirled a curl of his around your finger, biting your lower lip. “You’re saying some pretty deep, beautiful stuff to me tonight, Harry. I didn’t know you were like this.”

“A goob”?

You yanked on his hair strand a bit in admonition, “no, silly. Romantic. But not in a cheesy way. I like it. I really like it.”

“And I like you pulling my hair.”

You squinted at him, “it comes and goes, though, doesn’t it?”

Harry laughed and scooted his seat even closer. “I’ll be romantic for you, I’m just trying my hardest not to come on too strong. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Can we go, so I can get right to it?”

You stared at his lips for a split moment before he went in for the kiss, and shortly after, you were both in an uber trying to keep it PG. 

And failing for the most part.

As soon as you got to your place, though (the closest to the restaurant), you were all over eachother. Clothes were discarded hastily and you fumbled into bed finally, not really sure how you’d made it there.

Of course you’d anticipated bringing Harry home with you tonight, and you’d gone over several scenarios, things you’d been eager to try out with him, see what he liked, how far you could push his newfound submissiveness. All that went out the window though when you had him pin you down deliciously, his heavy cock resting over your navel, a very visual reminder of how deep he was going to bury himself into you in a moment.

You just couldn’t care less about all you’d planned out, all you knew was that you wanted him inside of you, the sooner, the better. And Harry was clearly on the same page when you pumped him a few times and painted his tip through your folds, positioning him at your entrance. 

Normally, you were the kind of person who needed a bit of foreplay. Maybe a clitoral orgasm first to get you ready for a vaginal one. But as soon as he bottomed out you could already feel yourself right on the edge. 

You’d been with big guys before, and yes, it helped, but sex was so much more than just that. A good orgasm wasn’t automatically a result of a precise technique just anyone (other than yourself, maybe) could apply. 

Harry just got you there. Everything about him got you there. 

From his gorgeous face, the way he kissed you, so wet and sloppy and intense, the way he breathed you in, got right under your skin to the point where it was like you were high on him.

The way he held you and felt you all over, a heady mix of gentle and assertive, tentative and possessive; the way he looked at you like he could eat you alive if you weren’t careful, to the way he felt inside of you, filling you up so perfectly like you were fucking made for eachother.

His pretty moans, you loved how vocal he was. His whimpers, his grunts, his huffs and the way he trembled when you kissed him as if that was the absolute peak of intimacy. 

It was embarrassing how quickly you were coming around his cock. He was so pleased with himself he almost came then and there from the shock of it alone. “But I want another one. I can feel it, you’re going to ruin me with this next one, come on baby. Let go, I’ll catch you.”

He abused your clit then, thumbed at it just right, made you feel like you couldn’t possibly fit under your skin for a moment longer, and that’s when you squirted all over him, for the first time in your life, something you’d always suspected yourself capable of but just never got there, not even on your own.

Harry added to the wet mess immediately after, pulling out and painting all over you in turn. 

Your legs were shaking something fierce when he dragged you into the shower but he managed to soothe your muscles into complete relaxation, caressing you all over and kissing you incessantly.

“I’ll be right back to get you, just gonna go change the bedsheets, alright? Just stay here under the water so you don’t get cold, baby.”

He was gone before you could sober up enough to tell him where to look for the bedlinen. You were so drunk on him, you felt like maybe switching the water to cold would bring you back on earth if only just momentarily.

But Harry was back surprisingly fast, wrapped you up in a fluffy towel and unwrapped you before tucking you under the duvet. You didn’t ask where he was going, you just loved watching him prance around with a towel around his waist, made a mental note to ask him to ditch it next time.

Next time. Your heart rate picked up again realizing there would be a next time, and a time after that. You were a couple, he wasn’t going anywhere in the morning. And instead of having this notion terrify you, it made you feel all warm inside.

You knew this was trouble, didn’t need anyone to narrate this in a Morgan Freeman voice for you to realize you were probably falling in love for the first time. All the cliche signs were there. But not even that realization terrified you.

Huh.

Harry was back with a tall glass of water, insisted you drank a bit before scooting in under the duvet next to you. Skin to skin, fresh sheets, and he still smelled divinely like himself. He spooned you and held you close and you were asleep before you could even go over everything that had happened in your head.

You did, however, wake up at one point in the night. You weren’t accustomed to sleeping with anyone, really. The short term relationships you’d had still didn’t automatically mean your exes would be spending the night often. 

Harry had shifted a bit, splayed on his back, occupying most of the bed like a huge starfish. Funny, since he’d definitely been sharing beds for most of his adulthood, and still didn’t know how to keep to his side of the bed.

You weren’t sure how late it was, but the morning wasn’t close yet. It was definitely nowhere near close enough for the morning wood Harry was sporting. Which meant it probably wasn’t the reason for his impressive erection, he was probably dreaming of something really nice, hopefully you. 

How sad would it be if he was already thinking of some other woman like he promised wouldn’t happen again, you laughed to yourself. You couldn’t believe he’d admitted that to you, even. He’d been so vulnerable with you, so open. You realized you’d never really gotten to what had happened between him and Marissa, apart from what you already knew. You made a mental note to continue that conversation later on, but for now, you had other plans.

It was just too tempting not to. 

When Harry finally gasped, he almost deepthroated you with how he jerked awake. His guttural groan covered your choking sounds, though, and you didn’t let up. He reached to card his fingers through your hair and you popped off of him, “nuh-huh. Where’s your manners, puppy?”

It took him a bit to register the entirety of the situation but when he finally did he whined “Fuck, Y/N… can I touch you, baby? You’re making me feel so good. God, that mouth of yours...”

“Alright, go ahead. You like this, then? Feel good?”

“I feel… euphoric.”

“Good.” You paused to stroke him a bit as you spoke to him assertively, “because this is all you’re getting. Gonna edge you, over and over, until I fall asleep mouthing at this pretty cock of yours. How’s that sound?”

Harry whined again, even more pathetically, “but… you mean, you won’t let me finish? At all?”

You chuckled mockingly, “that’s right pretty, and do you know why that is?”

Harry shook his head poutily and you just cooed at him as you spat over him, watching your saliva land on his sensitive slit. “Well, puppy, I’m just making sure you never forget to ask before coming again, hm? Third time tonight… and I’ve been warning you. Naughty boys get punished you know…”

“Fuck!” He threw his head back on the pillow as you took him right back in your mouth and down your throat again.

And again.

And again.

You’d reduced him to a whiny, pouty mess in record time. You could tell he’d never had someone else edge him, he’d told you the truth. Not that you suspected any of what he’d told you to be a lie. And not that you really felt he deserved to be punished, he’d fucked you better than anyone else ever had. This was actually his reward. He just didn’t know it yet.

By the time his thighs were shaking and he incessantly pleaded for you to let him come, you scooted lower and played with his balls a bit, not giving any attention to his cock but you knew he was so far gone that he’d probably still finish just from this.

But when you pushed his thighs farther apart and tongued at his perineum he cried out so loud that you took pity on him and decided to end his agony. You took his throbbing cock back into your hand and languidly stroked him. “Ever had your pretty ass played with before, puppy?”

“N-no… never…”

“Not even by yourself? Never been curious to try?”

“I–I have, but… I don’t know…”

“Want me to give you a first too tonight? Just like you did for me? I’d never squirted before either, you know.”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, Y/N, really?”

“Mhm.” You kept licking at his sack as you talked to him, all the while stroking him but not applying as much pressure as you knew you needed at that point. “What say? Wanna try? You can say no, I won’t be upset or disappointed. And you can stop me anytime if you change your mind.”

“And I can come?”

“Yes, puppy, you can come, but I’ll let you come either way. You’ve been such a good boy, I can’t leave you hanging, not tonight. So? What will it be? It’s your choice.”

“Uhm… ok, we can try…” He was visibly shaking in anticipation, as you tried to gauge whether he was just eager to finish or actually give this a try.

You bent his knees a bit over his chest and gave him a tentative lick even lower down. Harry shuddered in pleasure and began blabbering about how he can’t hold off anymore. You knew he was right on the brink, you were proud of him for holding out for as long as he had. Licking again more vigorously, you knew you had to go easy on him, so all you did was give him a tentative fingertip. But it was enough for him to clamp onto and spasm around uncontrollably as he finally came undone. 

You praised him through his orgasm, telling him how good he was for you, how pretty he looked like that, how brave he’d been to try something new. When he came down you scooted your way up his long torso and he kissed you even more ardently than before if that was even possible. “That was… incredible. I don’t think I ever came that hard in my life.”

“Good. Cause that’s the case for me as well. Wanted to give you something similar, I’m so glad you were open to it. Knew it’d blow your mind.”

“Fuck, that was… holy shit. I can’t believe how intense that was. But even the edging… it was everything I’d fantasized about and more. You’re… fuck, Y/N. You’re incredible. You’re never getting rid of me.”

And for the first time, that notion didn’t scare you. In fact, it made you hopeful. Maybe he really would be your first, after all.

lhh Masterlist

A/N: whew this sure took me a while but writing subrry isn't my expertise as you know! i wanted to get it right! hopefully i did him justice ❤️

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

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[jolapeno]

1. butterscotch orange

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter one of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.3k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] meet cute, flirting. fluff. flirting in person and over <redacted>. frankie being a single!dad to a son. coffee date. an: it is finally here! this little thing has rotted me from the inside out and nothing brings me more joy than a romcom. so here we go. buckle in. all hail @secretelephanttattoo for the wondrous idea and support (seriously thank you, i know you know ily, but i don't think I've been this happy writing something in so long). a thank you to @thetriumphantpanda who i forced to read this when we had our sleepover, ily.

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics [winks]

IF I CAN DO IT, ANYONE CAN DO IT. ALL YOU NEED—

It rings, echoes through your skull.

Has been doing so the whole ride over—your groan doing nothing to dilute it, even as you kill the engine of your car and are welcomed with silence.

There’s an element of regret you feel thrumming in you since discovering that perky voice, her high-pitched excitement becoming the bane of your existence. Forever replaying in your head. Regardless of whether it is actually playing. It remains on a loop in your mind—all light and sweet—grating on you from the amount you’ve had to watch it, just to get to this stage.

Realistically, you know you shouldn’t hate the voice, because it has been helpful—in that effortlessly playful way that’s kind of begun to fuck you off.

But then, you’re not even sure if any voice would fare much better. Because you just don’t feel like it’s just that easy—so possible, all simple and quick to do.

Because DIY apparently isn't that trouble-free for you. The bandaids on your palm, fingers, and forearm are proof of it.

Yet, somehow you’re outside of a hardware store.

One that Google promises will have all you need and more. Not that you know what that is.

The only thing you do know is that it at least gives you another reason to focus on something other than the mountain of boxes that never end. The ones not unpacked. In the home that’s now only slowly beginning to feel more like yours, and not the people you purchased it from.

Eyes flicking over the front of the store, the clutter of things all left outside—in judging various shades of buckets and plastic garden chairs—before your eyes land on the door to Harold’s Hardware.

There’s no breeze, but the door moves ever so slightly. Sitting, slightly ajar, as though once—a long time ago—it fit in the frame perfectly, but now remained warped and unwilling to even try. Then there’s the glass, all smeared and sitting inside (what you assume) would have been a bright-white frame that’s slightly yellowed and has been adorned in scuffs, swinging in its layered overuse.

But, at least it’s visited, you think. Shoving open the door, a bell sounds in some distant corner, ringing, it almost muffled by the voice from the video continuing to play in the space between your ears—a to-do list, a handful of items required, listing themselves on a never-ending loop, the billionth play through since you’d woken up.

It’s so much bigger inside than you banked on. Jaw-ticking to the side, eyes marvelling at the floor-to-ceiling display and the array of things all living and existing under hanging signs that appear worn and peeling.

With each second, more and more of the charm comes to you.

That there’s a radio, crackling away, a song from decades gone by playing with difficulty, as an array of scents swirl, fighting themselves for your attention. But, two stand out, fresh-cut wood and lemon disinfectant. The latter you assume kills dirt but doesn’t make the floor tiles gleam in the way they once did. Scuff marks adorning well-walked paths. But the former, you gravitate more to, wish for it to fill your nose and remain with you long after your visit.

Adjusting the strap of your bag, you glance about again, almost fidgeting your feet in your shoes, before it dawns on you. Slams into you as you flick your gaze from sign to sign—

You haven’t got a clue about where to start.

Listing the things from memory—suddenly distant and difficult to find amongst the dooming overwhelm—as your feet begin moving of their own accord. Choosing an aisle, selecting it—all eeny-meeny-miny-mo.

Because better that, than standing aimless, lost. Watched on some flickering CCTV in the back where you assume the person who works here is.

Dragging your eyes, scanning them up and down, taking in the varying types of paint brushes, different thicknesses, different intentions. Moving from single purchase to grouped, to multi-packs, and landing finally on rollers before you’re turning, heading down an entirely different aisle.

The next isn’t any less overwhelming.

If anything, it’s more, because it’s at least more of what you needed.

Screws, bolts, fixings.

Your brain assessing, attempting to assemble whether a bolt is what you need, a screw or—

“You need a hand?”

It throws you off, the voice.

Cuts through your processing, through the low replays of the video (the ones only in your head) and the cracking radio which has moved into an advert for migraines.

It’s low, a slight gravel that he rids with a clear of his throat as you look over your shoulder, eyes sweeping over the owner of the voice, eventually turning to face him.

And fuck.

He’s broad, dressed in a deep green t-shirt under a tan apron—name badge scratched over, only leaving the lingering marks of a “here to help” and the fading logo you’d seen outside.

You don’t mean to gawk, but yet you do all the same.

Practically swallowing, attempting to whir your brain into gear as you take in the rest of him. The thick loose curls atop his head, the strong nose and the round-brown eyes. His moustache, the wiry facial hair across his chin he slowly begins to scrape at, as he remains waiting for a response.

“Screws.”

“You… you need screws?”

Nodding, you will your brain to work, to function. But, he’s just so—

Lifting his chin, he runs his thumb up and down the underside of his chin, waiting, waiting, until he smiles. “Do you know the kind?”

Think. Think. Fucking think.

And then you do. Somehow able to unspool some thoughts, find sentences. Beginning to explain, in barely-there pauses and animated hand gestures about your move, and your new lease of life, and this video you found and how you felt inspired by it to the point it had led you to order wood cut to size and tools from the internet, but screws, screws and this and that are all that you’d forgotten.

And, he listens. Sliding a hand over the sleeve of his sun-scorched tee as he does. Just nodding on occasion. Thin lines appear along his forehead at certain parts of the story, but nonetheless listening.

“Show me.”

“Show… you?”

Then he smiles. Soft, it slides up in a slow, almost cautious way, but then it’s at his eyes, touching, brushing itself there and sending sparks up into the darker brown flecks.

Licking his lips, he gestures, “The video.”

You do.

A quick shuffle in your pocket, a slide to unlock your phone and then your fingers are brushing his. They’re warm, his. That you can tell.

Heat radiating from them, slowly blanketing yours as his hand and yours cradle the phone like a newborn in an announcement photo.

From there, your chest tightens, more so when you meet his eyes, finding them watching you as intently as you wish to look at him, and it makes your heart stammer, skip—a full chaos of beats following before he’s holding your phone independently.

That’s when a new crisis calls. A new thought is all set to erode your mind.

Because your phone looks tiny in his hand.

The plastic case is almost dwarfed by him as he tips his chin, watching the video, occasionally tapping at the screen to skip ahead before he nods to himself, you all but busy trying not to choke on your own drool.

“I know what you need.”

“You do?”

A foolish question, all escaping without thought or rationale.

He just smiles, in a way that seems to settle your incoming anxiousness.

“I do.”

And he does.

A tilt of his head, his back turned to you, a brief thought crossing your brain at the sight but you quickly rid, and you’re following. Listening as he explains, as he points out things with his long, thick finger, as you nod, as though nothing lives in the space between both of your ears.

It isn’t until you’re back in your car that it hits you. Do you suddenly wish as your engine ignites and your car roars to life, that you had asked for his number—or better yet, his name.

It’s been days, and you’re still wondering if some part of you’d concocted him, made him up—thrown up an illusion of a man and exaggerated how good he looked.

The more you thought about him, the more insane it got. Even hearing yourself explain it to a friend made you question if you'd been dreaming. That maybe you’d let days mould him, shaping perfection in your consciousness.

It has more weight when you walk past the older man at the till, all white hair in a slick-back style and who tips his head and looks more what you’d expect from the decor of the place.

But a part, one fighting, scrapping for a moment to exist, still believes. Hopes.

Forcing your legs to wander down aisles you don’t need, pausing at each corner, desiring to be proven wrong. Hovering, hoping—half-wondering if it was essential that to make him appear, you had to look lost and hopeless—or whether that had just been a coincidence that first time.

With each up and down, you almost give up. Hope almost gone, erasing itself with each step, all but fading.

But there, in the centre of the paint aisle, speckled in dried flecks, it clinging in varying shades—a kaleidoscope dream on his jeans and worn t-shirt—is him. The man you haven't stopped thinking about.

"It's you."

"It's me," you grin, heat flooding your cheeks, growing up into your neck.

Arm lifting, hand brushing the back of his curls not housed in a cap, as he matches your grin. "New project?"

"Something like that."

His gaze doesn't waver, doesn't lessen, not as his grin slopes into a shy smile, before he wipes his hand on his jeans, offering it out. "Realised... I never... I'm Frankie, by the way."

You hand him your name, dropping an octave as you do—all unmeaning, entirely accidental—fingers sliding past his as you shake his hand.

“I don’t… you’ve not got your apron on.”

Glancing down, you find him grinning when he looks up, “Not my day today. Here on personal business.”

“Oh is…” squinting at the paint can in his hand, “Butterscotch Orange on a hit list or something?”

His lips slide into his cheek, a tooth-filled smirk. “Should be, it’s a right bitc—pain in the ass to sell.”

Rolling your lips, you trace your tongue across your teeth as you grin. “It’s no…” eyes squinting. “Mt Rainier Grey.”

His brow arches. “That your shade of choice?”

“I like it—don’t hate the orange though. So, maybe it’s not the paint, but the seller.”

Something twinkles in his eye, lips still cocked to one side, smirk still ever-present.

And it’s a challenge to drag your eyes to look at the floor, you shift your weight. Trying, and failing, to think of an excuse, to leave before it gets weird—before you become too much and ruin this nondescript thing. But, his throat clearing stops you. It forces your chin up. Barely just able to catch it, the whisper, how it’s almost said to the can in his hand than to you.

“You… doing anything right now?”

Shaking your head slowly, you bite your cheek as you grin. “Just talking to a man holding a paint can.”

Tapping his fingers along the top, lips rolling, “You fancy getting a coffee? With me?”

You have to bite your smile, out of fear you’ll show how practically beaming you are. Mouth opening, but he adds an addition of I don’t usually do this that makes your lips curl into a smirk.

“What? Invite random customers for coffee or accost them with paint you can’t sell?”

Biting his upper lip, he shakes his head, tucking a curl behind his ear as your eyes glance over at them. How they glisten under the yellow-fluorescent light.

Letting your heart dance like leaves in the wind. “I’d love to get coffee with you, Frankie.”

It’s nice, the coffee place.

Not a far walk, a few doors down. The charm of it coaxes you in with sounds of crunching beans and strong scents of varying levels of caffeine sliding over and relaxing your shoulders from your ears.

Because suddenly you’re nervous.

A slight shake to your bones, a twitch of your fingers.

“Let me get this.”

Smiling, you find him watching you, not caring to drag his eyes away when you catch him.

“Because you never do this or because you’re hoping to persuade me to buy your unsellable paint?”

Smirking, he traces his eyes over you, “Both.”

The corner of his mouth slides back into his cheek, a dimple appearing, deepening—one you want to brush over with your thumb the longer he keeps looking at you the way he does.

All dark eyes, beedy, but sparkling.

'Who's next?' breaks the spell. Shatters the magic. It forces you both to blink, to focus on the task at hand. Both orders said, whirring and crunching sounding as you admire the place, glaze over the menu until he’s nudging you.

With your order in hand and tucked away in the corner—the large window letting in light and warmth from the sun on your back—you try not to moan at the taste of your drink once it hits your tongue.

Because it’s good. Brilliant, practically everything.

To the point you have to bite back a thank you, one that you feel would be never-ending, a constant swirl of words landing on the circular table between the two of you. Nothing napkins and good conversation could soak up.

Because good coffee is always great, but knowing where to find it in an unknown place is something else.

Distantly, you hear him say your name, chin dipped, eyes focused, realising—in a flood of embarrassment—he’s been talking to you.

“Sorry?”

“I said, I’ve not seen you in the store before…”

Swallowing, you take a steadying breath.

“You don’t have to…”

But, you do all the same. You pour open small bits of truth, words falling, tumbling half-strung together as your history rolls out in a timeline in front of you both. How you’d bought a new place, that it’s a bit run down, seen better days—a determination to prove friends wrong by doing it yourself.

Foolish, you comment with a shake of your head, I know fuck all about decorating.

And he listens—to the fact you’re alone, not even a pet; he listens even as you talk about your work, all boring, not entirely interesting. The two of you simply lost in one another, surrounded by coffee mug swirls and the sounds of sizzling food, coffee shop noises and mumbling daytime talk as you ask him about work, about his love for orange shades.

And your eyes glance down at his phone, how it’s turned over—his all undivided attention given to you—yet your eyes linger on the phone case. The one with a drawing, likely in pencil, a man in a hat on a hill, a child next to him and a sun with a smile on its face.

“I… I have a kid. Luca—shared custody,” he says, nodding, tongue peeking out between his teeth, hands leaving the table and wiping back on his jeans in slow slides up and down. “He… he made it me.”

It’s the grin that makes your heart swell.

Makes your hand cup your mug a little tighter so you don’t offer it out to him to hold, a thing which feels so natural, no thought required. Except you don’t know his last name—barely know a thing about him.

Yet, your body practically leans forward as you mirror the smile—all soft, as another piece of a missing puzzle sliding into place.

“Does he like drawing?”

Laughing, his palm slides along his jaw. “Loves it.”

“How old?”

“Five—does that… does that bother you?”

“That you’re a dad?” He nods, and you lick your lips, you make sure to hold his gaze. “Not in the slightest.”

You smile, watching him mirror you this time. It rushes out, kissing across every bit of his face—a shyness soon fluttering over him before he clears his throat.

“So, you freelance? You like being your own boss?”

“Not especially, but it does mean I can work at night.”

Nodding, he slides his hand around the white porcelain, hand practically dwarfing the mug. It makes you want to ask him to hold things, to see if IKEA pencils or children’s eating utensils look more ridiculous than your iPhone and a regular coffee mug.

“Prefer the night?”

“I prefer the quiet of it... to think. It’s why… why I began trying to do something in the day, needed to still be busy.”

“Sitting still not an option, Rainier Grey?”

Shrugging, you smile. “Says you Butterscotch and your three tins of unsellable paint in the bed of your truck.”

“You got me there.”

“I just… like to be busy, and with the new house, no partner—commitments, I thought why not try a bit of DIY.”

Nodding, he lifts his mug, and takes a sip—eyes remaining fixed on you as he does, as though it buys him time, lets him think up an opinion, an assessment. It makes your skin warm, but for all the uncomfortable reasons, the panicking ones—parts of you beginning to catastrophise that you’ve said the wrong thing.

“Open up your Instagram.”

You stare, blinking.

“Trust me.”

And you do. With another fumble, another slide of your phone screen open, and you follow his instructions as you type in the spelling he gives you. When you click the page, it’s hard not to grin, to not have your face explode into a smile so large it cuts into your cheeks.

“I don’t like to sit still either,” Frankie adds, as though the thousand photos and videos, the tutorials and follower count don’t say that on their own.

You’ve fallen down a hole—willingly.

It cracked open the moment you’d sat on your couch, drink in hand, blanket half over your body.

The moment you’d begun your scroll, you discovered you couldn’t stop. Starting with the latest and moving back, until you realise you’d rather see the story in the way it happened.

Choosing a moment, almost nine months ago, before you work your way forward to the present.

You were cautious, more careful than needed, to not like anything too late—to not give away how deep into his page you’d gone. Even if you were in awe, a little proud—your cheeks a little warm and lips turned up into your cheek—as you saw in real-time his confidence grow. The way he’d look at the camera, began experimenting with angles, all in all being smoother, more happy.

You suppose that’s why you type a comment under one picture:

Is that butterscotch orange in the flesh? 🟠

Stalking me are you?

Getting some tips from Mr DIY himself.

I know you went back some months, Rainy.

How do you know that?

Because as soon as you commented that’s what I did. You looked nice at the beach.

Now who’s the stalker, Butterscotch.

Me. Clearly. I’m being very upfront about it.

Out of interest, do you tutor at all? Give hands on help to beginner DIYers?

You genuinely asking or flirting?

Big-headed much?

I can help you with something if you need it.

I think I do.

Then I’m yours. Don’t worry, I promise to only snoop in your drawers when left alone.

Think we should get food first, show you what I’m thinking—make sure you’re up to the task.

You asking me on a date?

No. But if you keep showing off tools topless I’ll be tempted to ask you.

Knew you’d gone back further than a month.

FRANKIE’S INSTAGRAM 🌝

NEXT CHAPTER

an: you do not understand how giddy i am about this series. the chapters have flown out of me. i hope you enjoy it half as much as i'm enjoying writing it. see you soon xx

[elix8r]

PRADA SHOES + I LOVE YOUS TEASER

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader 

GENRE: smut, angst, crack, (some?) fluff, college!au, exes to lovers!au, enemies to lovers!au, socialite/richkid!au

SUMMARY: Life as a socialite wasn’t all champagnes and designer labels, especially not with the turn your reputation took due to a simple misunderstanding. Now, you were being painted by everyone as a big fat cheater who shattered her sweet boyfriend’s heart—a narrative that couldn’t be further from the truth. In reality, it was him who had betrayed your trust. Frustrated and feeling deeply wronged, you returned to society and the new school year after a summer of cutting off contact with everyone and the drama. But just when you thought you were ready to face the world again, you were blindsided by something unexpected: the lingering effect Heeseung had on you. And who could blame you? Heeseung was way too hot for you to get over in just three short months and now, seeing him with the girl he once told you not to worry about all over him? Oh, it was on. 

You refused to be replaced, labeled as a crazy ex, or forgotten. No, you were going to make Lee Heeseung realize that you were the best motherfucking thing to had ever happened to him. 

WC: 1.3K for teaser (i'm thinking 20k+ for the actual fic)

WARNINGS (FOR THE TEASER): profanity + mentions of infidelity

RELEASE DATE: Unknown but I am aiming for before summer ends

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey everyone!! lt's been so long since I've posted one of these so I decided to give you a really long teaser and also cause this is going to be a long one to write so you'll have to be a little more patient! But I hope you guys enjoy this and is excited for this fic cause I love writing it! Everyone is so messy (and lowkey kinda terrible) but it'll be a fun one so pls look forward to it!! Lmk if you wanna be on the taglist ☺️

Heeseung was going to fucking kill Jake Sim. 

When he woke up this morning, you were the last thing on his mind, something he seemed to have finally freed himself from. However, all the hard work he put into casting you away from his mind seemed to have been in vain, as now all he could think about was you and how you had returned after three months of radio silence with the guy you cheated on him with.

Livid didn’t even cover what he was feeling, and it was evident in the way he swung his club. Each hit seemed to be driven by a surge of pent-up frustration.

“What the hell, man? That’s the third time today you’ve been way off course. What’s going on?” Jay shot him an incredulous look as he tried to locate where the golf ball had landed.

Heeseung let out a frustrated groan as he ripped off his glove and shoved his driver back into his bag. “Y/N’s fucking back.”

That was all Jay needed to hear to understand what was going on with his friend. "Shit, I saw. I’m sorry dude, it’s fucked up."

Heeseung was in no mindset to be playing golf right now. All he wanted was to go back home and wallow miserably in his bed. Unfortunately, they were only on hole ten of eighteen, and judging by his performance today, Heeseung knew it was going to take awhile.

"Did you know?" Heeseung couldn't help but blurt out, his frustration evident in his voice as he watched Jay effortlessly swing a shot miles better than his own.

Confusion flickered across Jay's face as he turned to face his friend. "What do you mean?"

“Did you know that she was coming back with Jake?” Heeseung felt his jaw tense as he mentioned his ex-friend.

“I didn’t even know he was with her until today. Honestly, I thought he’d just fucked off somewhere and didn’t bother telling any of us, considering how things went down. You know me, I would’ve told you straight up if I had found out earlier.” Heeseung trusted Jay implicitly. He was as loyal as they came, but unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for everyone in their friend group.

"Do you think Sunghoon knew?" Heeseung's question elicited an audible groan from Jay.

If anyone in their friend group knew how Jake spent his summer, it would undoubtedly be Sunghoon. However, Sunghoon was notoriously tight-lipped, especially when it came to sensitive matters. Since the breakup, the entire friend group had undergone an incredibly awkward shift. It seemed that everyone had more or less chosen a side, and allegiances were clear.

"You know he wouldn't tell us anything if he did. It's getting ridiculous. The other day, I saw Gaeul and him having brunch or something at the clubhouse, and the moment she spotted me, she practically sprinted over to explain herself. She claimed she's still 'Switzerland' in the whole situation and hasn't chosen a side," Jay recounted, frustration evident in his voice. 

Heeseung almost snorted at the absurdity of it all. Their friend group had never been one to keep secrets or tiptoe around each other, but the last few months had been nothing but that. The betrayal by you and Jake had not only affected Heeseung's relationship with you but had also tainted the dynamic of their entire friend group.

“Literally, what is there to be ‘Switzerland’ about? I mean, this whole thing isn’t even complicated. Everyone saw them go into the bathroom together and come out literally holding hands. Trust me, I know what she looks like after giving head, and that's literally what she looked like in that video Beomgyu sent. Plus, Karina literally heard them.” Heeseung angrily got into the golf cart as Jay fished the keys out to start driving.

“Okay, well, no offense, but in all honesty, Karina’s probably not the most reliable source, cause she’s in an extremely biased position, but I guess that’s beside the point.” Jay’s words seemed to instantly bring a frown upon Heeseung’s face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Heeseung’s tone sharply switched up in an almost defensive manner.

Jay, feeling this shift, nervously cleared his throat as he stammered, trying his best not to offend his already sensitive friend regarding an even more fragile situation. “I mean, uh, well. You know…”

“What?” The grip he had on the seat of the golf cart seemed to get tighter as he waited for his friend to elaborate.

“Dude, you can't be serious? You know Karina’s been trying to ride your dick for the past, what, give or take ten years? I mean, we all know that she’s never had a good relationship with Y/N, and I’m pretty sure most of that resentment stemmed from the fact that you’ve always been head over heels for Y/N.” Jay slowly parked the cart and turned off the engine as he explained.

Still not understanding Jay’s point, Heeseung furrowed his brows, shooting his friend another annoyed look before getting out of the golf cart. “What are you trying to get at?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re dense. I mean, the last couple of months before Y/N cheated on you was the closest you seemed to have gotten with Karina because of that final project that you guys had or whatever. I mean, you were with her more times than you were with your own girlfriend, and knowing Karina, she seems like she could be delusional enough to have maybe taken that as a sign that you were interested in her? I mean, this is all speculation, but I’m just letting you know what we all saw.”

Jay cautiously treaded this topic. Heeseung was his best friend since they were babies, and he would always be on his side, but Karina was never anyone’s favorite with her extremely polarizing personality. He had no allegiance towards her, not to mention that she wasn’t actually even in their friend group and always only ever found lingering around wherever Heeseung was, so it was much easier for Jay to actually see through her. In fact, it seemed that all of their friends could pretty much catch on to Karina’s end goal except Heeseung.

“So you think it’s my fault that Y/N cheated on me?” The air got tense as Heeseung snapped at Jay while snatching his 7-iron out of the bag. “Just because I spent some time doing a stupid fucking school project with Karina doesn’t mean it gives her reason to go and suck off one of my best friends.”

Jay shook his head even before Heeseung was done with his sentence. Heeseung seemed to not be getting the point. “Fuck no, dude, that’s not what I’m saying. Karina has an incentive: you. If she gets rid of Y/N, then it means you’re up for grabs. Of course, Karina didn’t force Y/N to get on her knees for Sim, but she was the first one to come running, telling us what happened even before Beomgyu sent that video.” Heeseung was trying hard to focus on trying to get his ball on the green as he geared up to swing while listening to Jay.

“So you don’t think she should’ve warned me of what she heard?” He swung precisely, but it seemed that this whole course, to be precise, wasn’t going easy on him. He’d be lucky to get even a double bogey on the par-4.

Jay slightly grimaced at Heeseung’s shot. “No, it’s not that,” he let out a sigh as he walked over to Heeseung. “Look, you’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and I know the past few months have been fucking hard because of what Y/N put you through, and I just want you to be careful. Karina’s always been kind of a conniving, spoiled bitch who finds a way to get what she wants. Just because she’s been warming your bed every night since Y/N fell off the fucking Earth doesn’t mean she should be someone you start trusting.”

There was nothing he could say back to his friend’s words and it seemed that what Jay had said clung on deep to Heeseung's thoughts throughout the day, casting a lingering shadow and leaving a bitter aftertaste in his mind.

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

I love your Husk pieces! He's my favorite =^.^= I wanna hug the shit out of him 😆

If you have time, could you do one where Charlie planned a movie night for "bonding" lol and the reader ends up falling asleep on Husk? Everyone ships them and encourages him to confess to her? So much fluff please! Thanks hon! ^.^

A/N: This is so adorable!! Love this! I hope you enjoy! XD

Pairing: Husk x fem!Reader

“Until I Smile at You” - Husk x Reader

After living at the Hazbin Hotel for a while, Charlie’s “trust exercises” had become less of an annoying nuisance and simply a part of daily life. Actually, they were kind of refreshing and - dare you say - fun! They ranged from trust falls and share circles to your personal favorite - movie night. Movie night happened once a week and every week the person who chose the movie rotated. This week was supposed to be Angel’s turn, but ever since he chose his movie to be the most graphic porn anybody had ever had the displeasure of seeing, he was banned from choosing the movies. Instead of Angel, the group decided to let Alastor choose. He was always a marvel, as his movies ranged from silent films to disgustingly gorey horror movies. Tonight, however, he picked a noir detective film that he enjoyed while he was still alive (not before endlessly complaining about how radio is the superior media form, though).

One thing that nobody could stand about Alastor’s movies was how much he talked during them. I guess it's because he's so used to working in radio that he cannot comprehend that maybe, just maybe, not everybody wants to hear his voice all the time. He would either explain every little detail about the leading actors or talk about a living memory that he associated with the specific scene.  This night, though, Alastor seemed so enamored by the movie that he was completely silent. You were sitting on the couch with Alastor, Angel, and Husk, and found your eyes getting slightly heavier with every passing minute. The combination of the dark room, boring movie, and precious silence was just what you needed to drift into a peaceful slumber. Slowly resting your head and body on the irresistibly soft and warm cat demon beside you, your consciousness fades in and out until your mind is finally met with sleep.

The second Husk felt your head meet his shoulder in a gentle embrace, he froze. He had only ever imagined this happening, and was nowhere near prepared for it to actually happen tonight. Despite his hard and tough facade, Husk craved nothing more than soft affection, and knowing that you trusted him enough to not disturb your slumber flattered him. He remained completely still (so as not to wake you) for more than an hour until the movie finished. Charlie, using the remote to find another movie, said, 

“Thank you guys for spending tonight with me! This was amazing! I think I’m going to put on another movie, if anybody wants to stay down here, but you’re welcome to go upstairs and go to slee-'' she is cut off when she turns around to see you asleep on Husk, practically beaming with joy. “AWWWWW-” she is cut off by Husk’s “Shh!”, partially because he is embarrassed but also because he doesn’t want you to wake up in embarrassment. This caused everybody’s attention to turn to the two of you, not quite as surprised as Charlie.

“I mean, are we shocked? He’s been fawning over Y/N ever since she moved in. Don’t shame the poor guy…” Angel says in a mocking tone.

Everyone’s eyes slightly divert, not wanting to completely show that Husk’s attraction to Y/N is anything short of obvious.

“Shut the fuck up, man” Husk replies. 

“I’m not saying that she’s told me that she likes you back… buuuuut you should definitely just tell her. Trust me.” Charlie says, literally gleaming with excitement. 

Hearing this, Husk’s insides flip, his internal monologue running wild.

‘Did she- does she- could Y/N actually like someone like me? She’s just so… perfect. I don’t deserve her. But - let’s just - don’t get your hopes up, man. This could just be Charlie being Charlie, saying shit to make people leave their comfort zones or something.’

“Alright idiots, let’s not wake her up.” he says, sighing and gently picking you up. 

“I hear a single word about this tomorrow, and I’ll kill ya.” he says, while quietly walking to your room. 

He rolls his eyes while listening to Angel making fun of him and Charlie trying earnestly to defend you guys, saying something along the lines of “But this is how Vaggie and I started to fall in love!”

Opening your door as quietly as possible, he gently places you down on your bed. Covering you with blankets, he turns to leave until he hears your soft voice call to him:

“Was all that stuff they said about you true?”

Shit. You heard? Should he deny it? Pretend he didn’t even hear you?

“What?”

Deny it is.

“The stuff that Charlie and Angel said… about you liking me. Is that true?” you ask.

“I don’t know what kind of dream you were having, but everyone was dead silent during the movie, because, yknow, bonding time or whatever.”

He was avoiding your gaze until now, hoping that you would just accept the lie and go back to sleep. Instead, when he looked at you, he was met with your disbelieving face staring right back at him. 

“Mhm.” you say sarcastically. 

Moments of awkward silence lead to Husk trying to make a quick escape, muttering goodnight and walking to your door. He’s halfway out of the doorway when he hears your voice again.

“It’s a shame, I was hoping that what they were saying was true.” you say teasingly, just loud enough for him to come back into the room.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing” you reply, smugly. 

“Don’t do that.” he says, clearly intrigued but trying to seem annoyed. 

“Do what?” you say, teasingly.

“Satan, just tell me what you said. I don’t like playing games.” he says.

“Oh, but, clearly you do, if you’ve been ‘fawning’ over me since the day I've walked in,  yet.. said nothing.”

He looks - embarrassed. Almost hurt. 

“Fine, yeah, I like you. No need to rub it in and be an asshole about it, I know you don’t like me.”

You look at his diverting eyes and immediately regret your teasing tone.

“Oh, Husk, I wasn’t making fun of you, I was just being stupid. Come here.” you say, patting the spot next to you on the bed. 

He sits next to you, looking confused.

“Here.” you say, while holding his hands in yours. 

“Listen. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I’m sorry if it came across that way. I mean, obviously I like you too. Was it not clear?” you giggle. 

Husk’s eyes widened in shock.

“What- I mea- You like me? Why?” he blurts out.

“Why? Come on, don’t be dumb. You’re the funniest person I know, you’re always willing to listen to me, and you’ve never once turned me away when I needed help. And, you're truly handsome, but that’s just a bonus. You’ve made being trapped in Hell actually enjoyable, which is something that you should be proud of. I wake up everyday excited to see you, to talk to you. I just wish you would've told me that you liked me sooner (and yourself)” you say.

Husk’s eyes are glued on you like you’re the last thing he’ll ever see, like he has to memorize your every feature before he blinks. He has never been more enamored with anybody before. 

In lack of a better response, all he can blurt out is, “Thank you!?”

You giggle, a slight blush creeping up your face. 

“And you are clearly tired. How about you sleep in here tonight? We can cuddle, or talk, or just sit with each other.” you ask.

“That - That sounds great.” he says, truly letting his guard down for the first time in years. As he lays next to you, finally becoming truly comfortable, he swears that he can see a white, fuzzy hand holding a phone by the slightly-ajar door.

“Angel, if that’s you by that door right now, you’re gonna want to run.”

You can hear the spider’s screams of “I GOT IT GUYS! THE FULL VIDEO!! AHAHAHAHA!” as Husk reluctantly leaves the bed.

“Excuse me,” he says, “I’m gonna go take care of this. I’ll be back.”

As he leaves, you start to realize how you got from the couch to the bed in the first place. Smiling to yourself, you savor the fact that, though you were condemned to eternal damnation, these people that you have found could not have created a better heaven for you.