#(will never tell that my clients though that would be unprofessional

[anotherobsessedsomething]

TW selfharm

Seriously being selfdestructive and even selfharm is way too easy and I would like to believe it’s because I am so good at functioning and being sneaky but I think in reality it’s more because most people are way too oblivious and careless and think that selfharm is just cutting your arms open with razor blades when it can be so much more

[justlemmeadoreyou]

solace* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n)

summary: harry is in need of some unwinding and destressing, and he finds the perfect masseuse for that. they end up growing much closer than the relationship they began with, but it's never that easy, is it?

words: 6.4k (she's long)

warnings: smut in this one: p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cursing, dirty talk, fingering, creampie.

"Just lay down on the table and relax. I'll take good care of you."

Y/N tried to keep her voice steady and professional as she greeted her new client, the one and only Harry Styles. The famous former athlete turned singer was lying face down on the massage table, a towel draped over his lower body.

Y/N had been a masseuse at this high-end spa for two years, but she had never worked on someone so famous before. She was intimidated but determined not to show it. Treating Harry just like any other client was the only way she could get through this.

"You're the expert," Harry's muffled voice came from the face cradle. "I'm in your hands."

Y/N gulped at the unintended innuendo. Get it together, she scolded herself. This is strictly business.

She warmed up some lotion in her hands and began working on Harry's muscular back and shoulders. Almost immediately, she could feel the tightness and knots from years of intense athletic training.

"You've got a lot of built-up tension in here," she commented, digging her fingers in to loosen a stubborn knot. "What sort of athletic background are we working with?"

"Footie, if you go by my English roots," Harry said, sucking in a sharp breath as she worked a particularly tender spot. "Played striker on an academy team as a kid before my interests shifted to music in my late teens."

Y/N raised her eyebrows, impressed. She had no idea Harry was such a talented athlete on top of his musical skills. Somehow that made her former crush on him even more intimidating.

As she moved down to his lower back, she tried to keep her touches clinical and impersonal. But she couldn't help noticing how toned Harry's body was, the muscles rippling beneath her hands. 

Stop ogling him, you're being completely unprofessional! She gave herself another firm mental rebuke.

For a while, the only sounds were Harry's occasional groans as Y/N dug into his tight knots and the relaxing spa music playing softly in the background. But eventually, Harry broke the silence.

"You know, you seem a bit nervous around me. Is it because I'm....well, me?"

Y/N felt her cheeks burn. She should have known he would pick up on her awkwardness.

"I'm just trying to stay focused," she mumbled, unable to keep the embarrassment out of her voice entirely. "I don't want to slip up and disappoint an important client like yourself."

To her surprise, Harry let out a low chuckle. "Love, I may be famous but I'm just a regular bloke like any other. No need to be nervous."

His voice was warm and full of humor, putting Y/N more at ease. She realized she had been building him up as some intimidating celebrity in her mind when really he seemed down-to-earth.

Feeling emboldened, she decided to open up a bit. "To be honest, I may have...had a bit of a crush on you back in the day. Your music was a big part of my teen years."

"Is that so?" Harry sounded both flattered and amused. "Well, I'll take it as a compliment from a pretty lady like yourself."

Y/N felt her traitorous cheeks heating up again. Were they...flirting now? She couldn't tell if he was just being charming or if there was real interest there.

She tried to keep things professional as she moved on to his arms and legs, though her lingering shyness made it difficult. Harry seemed to sense it, not pushing things but keeping up his friendly banter that had her laughing in spite of herself.

By the end of the ninety minutes, Y/N was disappointed for the massage to be over. Some of the intimidation had faded, replaced by an easy rapport. Almost as if...they could really be friends, or more, not just client and masseuse.

As Harry redressed and prepared to leave, he paused and gave her a heart-stoppingly charming smile. "Same time next week? I'll need to keep these knots at bay."

Y/N couldn't resist smiling back, a warm flutter in her belly. "I'll be here. It's a date."

Wait, did she actually just say that?! She wanted to cringe at her awkward choice of words.

But Harry just chuckled easily, not seeming bothered at all. "A date it is, then. I look forward to it."

As he sauntered out, Y/N exhaled a long breath. Suddenly, her job had gotten a lot more...interesting.

Over the next few months, Y/N looked forward to Harry's weekly appointments increasingly more. They had fallen into an easy, teasing back-and-forth during their sessions peppered with plenty of flirtatious banter. 

At first, Y/N firmly kept things within professional boundaries, no matter how strong her crush was growing. Harry may be a laid back, regular guy, but he was still a client at the end of the day.

However, the more she got to know the real Harry beyond his famous persona, the harder it became not to develop deeper feelings. His sharp wit, endless warmth and care for those around him, and genuine humility all endeared him to Y/N enormously.

For his part, Harry seemed to be growing quite fond of Y/N as well. He playfully requested she work extra hard on his "problem areas" and loved to tease her about her technique and bedroom eyes whenever she was really concentrating. Y/N would pretend to be flustered, but secretly loved their charged back-and-forth.

One week, Harry didn't show up for his usual appointment. Y/N tried not to feel too disappointed, figuring he must have just been busy. But when he missed his spot the following week as well with no notice, she began to worry something was wrong.

"Everything okay with Harry?" she couldn't help asking the spa receptionist. "I haven't seen him for his appointments lately."

The petite blonde receptionist gave her a sly grin. "Haven't you heard? There was an issue with his latest music release, so he's been dealing with that whole mess the past couple weeks."

Y/N frowned, concerned. Harry hadn't mentioned anything about work issues. Then again, she realized they had become so comfortable with each other that she always viewed him through a friend's lens rather than a client's now. 

Making a snap decision, Y/N pulled out her phone and drafted a text to the number Harry had given her months ago, just in case she ever needed to reschedule his slot.

"Hey there, just checking in! Missed you the past couple weeks and wanted to make sure everything is alright?"

She hit send before she could overthink it, her heart fluttering nervously. This was wildly unprofessional to text a client like this, even if Harry had become more of a friend really.

To her surprise, Harry texted back almost immediately.

"Y/N! Was just thinking about you, funny enough. I'm so sorry for going MIA, it's been a madhouse with this new album mess. Let me make it up to you with dinner this weekend?"

Y/N's eyes widened as she re-read the text. Was Harry...asking her on a date? Or was he just being friendly and suggesting they grab a bite to catch up? She wasn't sure, but her heart was pounding either way.

Throwing caution to the wind, she typed: "It's a date. Looking forward to it!"

If her massages with Harry had been growing increasingly charged lately, Y/N could only imagine how electric an actual date with him would be...

The rest of the week dragged by interminably for Y/N as she counted down to her dinner with Harry. She agonized over what to wear, settling on a slinky red dress that walked the line between casual date and fancy night out perfectly.

When Saturday evening finally arrived, Y/N felt uncharacteristically nervous as she pulled up to the chic restaurant Harry had chosen. What if she had been misreading everything and this was just a friendly dinner after all? She didn't want to make things weird if that was the case.

But the second Harry opened the door to greet her, looking unfairly handsome in a slick black button-down, her worries melted away. He was giving her the same heated look he got when she was working out a tight knot in his muscles - unmistakably attracted and intrigued.

"You look positively stunning, love," he murmured, taking her hand and giving it a delicate kiss. "Though I don't know what I was expecting, you always manage to blow me away."

Y/N felt her face heating up at his unabashed flattery, her pulse racing. She couldn't resist giving his bicep a playful squeeze.

"You're not looking too bad yourself, popstar. Now are we going to eat, or did you just invite me out to shamelessly flirt?"

Harry grinned wickedly. "Why can't we do both?"

The evening passed in a blur of delicious food, sinfully good wine, and the most scintillating conversation Y/N had ever experienced. She and Harry swapped stories, teased and joked, and delved into surprisingly deep philosophical discussions, all without missing a beat.

By the time they were splitting a decadent slice of chocolate cake for dessert, Y/N felt more relaxed and giddy than she had in years. Despite all her nervous buildup, the date was turning out perfectly.

"You know," Harry began conversationally as he licked some icing off his fork in a way that made Y/N's mouth go dry. "When you started as my masseuse, I'll admit I figured you were just another pretty face hired by the spa. Starstruck and nervous around me because of my image and all that rot."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm at his words, but Harry grinned teasingly to show he meant no offense. 

"But you proved me absolutely wrong in the best way possible, darling. Your skill and your spirit both blew me away. You're always so professional, but with this amazing warm heart and sharp wit just beneath the surface."

Y/N couldn't help smiling bashfully at his earnest compliments. "Well, you hardly made it easy to stay focused and impersonal, Mr. Cheeky Flirtmaster. I'm just glad we were able to become...friends."

She said the last word tentatively, wondering if Harry felt the same growing sense that they had become something more than that recently. His heated gaze and body language said as much, but she didn't want to assume.

Harry seemed to pick up on her hesitancy, his green eyes crinkling at the corners fondly.

"Y/N, I think we both know our 'friendship' has evolved into something deeper, at least for me. I've fancied you for months, maybe longer if I'm being honest with myself. You're bloody brilliant - smart, talented, caring, with a rocking body that drives me spare in the best way."

He reached across the table to take her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. The tender intimacy of the gesture made Y/N's heart skip a beat.

"What I'm asking is...would you want to make this official? Give us a real go as more than just mates?"

Y/N felt like the breath had been knocked out of her lungs. She had imagined hearing those words from Harry's lips more times than she could count. But now that he had actually said them, she was temporarily stunned into silence.

Seeing her speechlessness, Harry chuckled warmly. "No need to answer right this second, love. I know it's a lot to process coming from your formerly famous client-turned-mate. Just think it over, yeah?"

Y/N finally managed to find her voice, emboldened by the caring warmth in Harry's eyes. She turned her palm over, lacing their fingers together decisively.

"You don't have to give me time, Harry. I've been crazy about you for ages if I'm honest. Of course I want to give us a real shot. I can't think of anything I want more."

The brilliant smile that spread across Harry's face sent tingles down Y/N's spine. He brought her knuckles to his lips, brushing a soft kiss there.

"Then it's official. We're a couple now."

Y/N felt giddy, like the words were a dream. Her and Harry Styles, the man she'd fancied for years, were entering a relationship together. What were the odds?

"Should we, uh, keep things professional at the spa still?" she asked, suddenly wondering if their new situation would make things weird.

To her surprise, Harry shook his head adamantly. "Actually, I was thinking of finding a new masseuse. I wouldn't want to put you in an awkward position having to work on your boyfriend's body every week, tempting as that sounds."

He gave her a heated look and Y/N felt a rush of arousal, imagining all the new layers their massages would take on now.

"Fair point. I don't think I could keep things totally professional anymore either," she admitted with a coy smile.

Harry signaled for the check, keeping Y/N's hand linked with his posessively. "Then it's settled. I'm all yours now, darling. Though fair warning, I'll expect my massages in private from here on out."

The tone of his voice made Y/N shiver pleasantly in anticipation. Oh, this romance was going to be incredibly fun.

***

Over the next few months, Y/N felt like she was living in a wonderful dream. She and Harry were inseparable, their bonds of friendship strengthening into an unbreakable foundation as their passion grew.

They went on romantic dates, attended glamorous celebrity events, and spent long cozy nights together at Harry's place. Y/N felt herself falling harder and harder for the kind, charismatic man who never failed to dote on her or cheer her on.

One evening, Harry surprised her by having a limo pick her up from work at the spa. Y/N raised her eyebrows in amused confusion as she slid into the sleek black car, wondering what her doting boyfriend was up to now.

To her delighted shock, Harry was waiting inside wearing a dashing tuxedo. He held out a rose to her with a warm smile. 

"My love, you look as breathtaking as ever. Are you ready for our night on the town?"

Y/N laughed giddily, feeling like a princess in a fairytale as Harry showered her with kisses. "You'll have to tell me where we're going, love!"

"Well, first we have dinner reservations at the city's most exclusive new restaurant. And afterward..." Harry trailed off teasingly before pulling a pair of tickets from his inner jacket pocket. "I've arranged for us to have a private vip loge at the opera!"

Y/N's jaw dropped. She knew Harry took great pride in planning thoughtful, romantic gestures, but she was blown away by this grand occasion. The evening was straight out of a storybook.

"Harry, this is...I can't even put into words," she breathed in amazement. "You are the singularly most incredible, thoughtful man in existence. How'd I ever get so lucky?"

Harry just grinned boyishly, giving her a wink as the limo pulled away from the curb. "You deserve all of this and more, darling. Tonight is just a start."

The rest of the evening passed in a blissful whirlwind. Y/N and Harry sipped gourmet cocktails as candles flickered between them at the restaurant. Their heated looks and brushing footsies beneath the table made the anticipation crackle deliciously. 

After the stunning five-star cuisine, Harry surprised Y/N again by hiring a violinist at the opera to serenade them privately in the vip loge while the show played out on stage. He held her close as they swayed to the rich, emotive music, looking into each other's eyes adoringly.

By the time they arrived back home in the limo, Y/N could barely keep her hands off her romantic prince of a boyfriend. She attacked his mouth hungrily as he lifted her into his arms, stumbling inside as they continued to devour each other.

That night was a blur of frantic lovemaking, tearing at clothes and tangling in the bed sheets as release was desperately chased between them. Y/N had never felt so thoroughly worshiped and cherished as when Harry was passionately laying claim to every inch of her body, branding her as his own with his scorching caresses.

"You're everything, Y/N," he groaned into the slick skin of her neck as she writhed beneath him. "My whole bloody universe, all the stars in the sky. Nothing means more to me than you, my perfect girl."

After, when the frenzied haze cleared, Harry held Y/N with indescribable tenderness like she was the most precious thing in existence. Which to him, she absolutely was. Her hands stroked through his sweat-dampened chestnut locks as he pressed fervent kisses to her collarbones, her sternum, everywhere his full lips could reach.

"How did I ever get so lucky?" he murmured, more to himself than her as he gazed up at Y/N reverently. "My entire world in these arms."

Y/N had no words, rendered speechless by the depth of love emanating from her man's bright green eyes. So she simply held him closer, letting her touch express everything her heart was too overwhelmed to put into phrases.

Of course, there were still hints of Harry's internal struggles with fame and the immense pressures of his career. The more Y/N got to know him intimately, the more she saw the tightly-wound tension that still crept into his muscles and posture frequently.

It killed her to see Harry in pain or overwhelmed, dealing silently with the weight of Hollywood's demands. So she made it her mission to take care of him, just like when she was his masseuse but in more intimate ways now.

After an especially grueling day of meetings and recording sessions, Y/N would draw Harry a hot bath infused with relaxing essential oils. She would gently undress him, unable to resist pressing soothing kisses along the protesting knots in his shoulders and back. Harry would let out deep rumbles of pleasure at her therapeutic touch.

One draining evening after he had done promo interviews all day followed by a high-energy concert, Harry came home to their penthouse utterly spent. His eyes were rimmed with exhaustion and his mouth was drawn into a tight line, shoulders hunched under the weight of his weariness.

Taking one look at her love in such a depleted state tore at Y/N's heartstrings. She quickly sprang into action, knowing just what he needed to recharge and find his center again.

"Go have a long, hot shower, babe," she murmured, pressing a tender kiss to Harry's furrowed brow. "I'll take care of everything else."

While Harry dragged himself to the bathroom, Y/N set about creating the perfect soothing atmosphere in their bedroom. She dimmed the lights to a warm golden glow and lit a few spicy aromatherapy candles. Then she pulled out her professional massage table and arranged it with all her favorite oils and lotions.

By the time Harry emerged from the steamy bathroom wearing nothing but a plush robe, Y/N had the space utterly transformed into a private spa oasis. Soft nature soundscapes played lightly in the background, blending with the flicker of candlelight to create an ambiance of pure tranquility.

Harry's brow unfurrowed slightly as he took in the scene, a small smile playing at his lips. "You're too good to me, darling," he rumbled in that gruff, sleepy tone Y/N adored.

"Mmm, not possible," Y/N assured with a soft smile, helping Harry shrug off his robe so he could climb onto the table completely nude. 

She warmed up some of the aromatic sandalwood oil between her palms before beginning her sensual ministrations along the perfect terrain of Harry's back and shoulders. His tight muscles instantly began loosening under her skilled touch.

Harry let out a deep, relieved groan as Y/N's strong hands found each knotted snarl and gently worked them loose. He practically melted into the table, boneless and pliant beneath her.

"S'why I love you so much," he slurred, the profound tension seeping from his body. "Always know just how to take care of me, dove."

Y/N hummed in contentment, leaning down to press a line of soothing kisses along the dips of Harry's spine. Between her mouth and her fingers spreading hot oil into every bunched muscle group, he was soon utterly liquid and relaxed. 

This went on for almost two blissful hours, Y/N taking her time to reverently cover every last inch of Harry's body in her healing touch. At one point she gently turned him over to tend to his chest, abdomen, and the handful of other areas he accumulated strain.

By the time she was finished, Harry was borderline unconscious - eyes hooded, face perfectly lax, breaths coming in deep and even pulls. Y/N trailed one last stroke down the miles of inked and toned skin he had exposed to her. Her beautiful boy, wholly at peace once more.

Pressing tender kisses to each of Harry's closed eyelids, Y/N carefully covered him with a plush duvet before slipping out of the bedroom. As much as she would love to stay and watch over him, she knew he needed to fully surrender to restorative sleep now.

Y/N headed to the kitchen, deciding to prepare one of Harry's favorite home cooked meals for when he woke feeling replenished and ravenous. As she moved around the space chopping vegetables and searing chicken, her mind couldn't help drifting to thoughts of the wonderful man in the other room.

She felt so unutterably lucky to be the one person in Harry's life allowed to take care of his weary body and soul in such an intimate way. All the fame, fortune, and success in the world was meaningless to Y/N, compared to earning his unwavering trust and being able to soothe away his struggles whenever they arose.

When Harry finally padded into the kitchen a couple hours later, he looked noticeably refreshed and at peace. There was a soft, dazed expression playing on his features as his bright eyes landed on Y/N in an oversized shirt cooking away.

"There she is," he rasped in that deep, gorgeously gravelly morning voice of his. "Most beautiful sight in the world."

Y/N grinned, warmth blossoming in her chest at the open adoration on Harry's face. Even after going through a draining day, he still couldn't help being an outrageous charmer with her.

"Did you get enough beauty sleep, love?" she teased lightly, moving across the room to wind her arms around his trim waist.

Harry hummed in contentment, ducking his head to nuzzle into the crook of her neck. He inhaled her familiar honeysuckle scent deeply, as if letting the aroma soothe his very soul.

"More than enough. I feel reborn, all thanks to you taking such incredible care of me as always." One of his large hands trailed up and down her back. "You spoil me rotten, darling."

"And you love every second of it," Y/N murmured with a soft laugh, tilting her chin up to search his sparkling green gaze.

The tender look Harry returned her with stole her breath away, like it still did even after all this time together. His calloused thumb traced the line of her cheekbone reverently.

"How could I not?" His low rumble sent tingles down her spine. "When you pour so much love and devotion into everything you do for me. Makes me fall deeper every damn day, dove."

As their mouths slanted together in a searing, drugging kiss, Y/N couldn't dream of a response. Because there were truly no words sufficient enough to capture the cosmic love between them in that moment.

Of course, their intimate times weren't always just about relaxation either. Y/N's massages frequently led to much more heated activities once Harry was completely de-stressed, his desire for her building as she worked her magic on his body.

Harry loved nothing more than to suddenly flip their positions, pinning Y/N to the bed and attacking her neck and collarbone with hot, hungry kisses. His hands would grip her curves possessively as she writhed beneath him.

"You've woken the beast, darling," he would growl in her ear, making her shiver with delicious anticipation. "Now you'll have to tame him."

Their lovemaking was always passionate and intense, the depth of their connection shining through in how perfectly in-sync their bodies were. Y/N never felt more beautiful, powerful, and utterly cherished than when Harry was worshiping every inch of her with his hands, lips, and tongue.

Sometimes their couplings started not from a massage, but simply from them stealing heated looks while going about their day. Like the time Y/N was baking in the kitchen, shaking her hips to the beat of the pop song playing while she rolled out pie dough, careless and free of the world around her.

She didn't notice Harry sidle up behind her until his strong arms wound around her waist, tugging her flush against his solid chest. His lips found the juncture of her neck and shoulder, sucking a blistering path up to the spot behind her ear that drove her crazy.

"Look at you," he rumbled in that gravelly morning tone of his as Y/N gasped and arched back into his sturdy frame. "Being all sexy and domestic, tempting a bloke with something fierce."

Y/N bit back a throaty moan as Harry's nimble fingers slid beneath her loose shirt, calloused palms blazing a path up her ribcage. "Harry, what-what are you doing?" she breathed, though she already knew the answer if the hardness pressing into her backside was any indication.

"Having a nibble of my favorite snack," he replied cheekily, punctuating his words with a sharp nip to her earlobe that made her inhale shakily, her heartbeat accelerating in her chest.

Before she could really process what was happening, Harry had easily turned Y/N in his arms and hoisted her up onto the wide kitchen counter. She reflexively wrapped her toned legs around his trim waist to anchor them together as he attacked her mouth in a desperate kiss.

His tongue plundered deep, tasting every crevice as Y/N clutched at the dense muscle of his biceps and back. One of his large hands cupped her jaw to angle her how he wanted while the other palmed her breast through the thin fabric, brushing a calloused thumb over the peaked nipple there.

Y/N whimpered into Harry's mouth, already spiraling from how quickly his talented hands and lips had her arousal spiking. He was single handedly unraveling her till she was putty in his hands, the only thought in her mind was what he was planning to do to her next..

Finally, Harry broke the filthy clash of their mouths, panting harshly as he pinned Y/N with a look of pure hunger. His green eyes were near black with want, wandering possessively over her flushed state.

"You make me so bloody crazy, dove," he rasped in a low rumble that had her pulse kicking up another notch. "I can't keep my hands off you."

Y/N whimpered at the pure need saturating her boyfriend's deep tone. She squirmed deliciously against him, desperate for more friction.

"Then don't," she managed to gasp out through her daze of arousal. "Take what you want from me, Harry. I'm all yours."

The low, guttural groan Harry let out at her breathless plea, very nearly had Y/N coming undone right then. His smoldering gaze somehow burned even hotter with carnal intent.

Before she could process what was happening, Harry had ridden her of her shirt and shorts in two effortless tugs. His big palms instantly settled at the curves of her waist, thumbs dipping beneath the lace waistband of her underwear teasingly.

"Look at you...so gorgeous and flushed, ready and waiting for me," he praised in a low rasp, leaning in to drag his tongue up the slender column of her throat. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you baby?"

Y/N was too far gone in the spiral of her own pleasure to respond with anything more coherent than a choked-off whine that had him thickening in his pants. She writhed against Harry's solid frame, silently pleading for him to end her torment.

Seeming to take the hint, Harry ducked his head to mouth along the swell of her breasts and sternum, layering nips and sucking kisses until her skin was covered with marks of his devotion. Y/N arched her back hair sticking to her rapidly dampening skin as breathy moans tumbled from her parted lips.

"So responsive for me, dove," Harry grunted in approval, his big hands sliding around to shamelessly cup and squeeze her backside. "So perfect at taking everything I give you."

With one swift movement, he tugged her skimpy panties aside and plunged two ring clad fingertips through her dripping folds. Y/N cried out shamelessly at the long-awaited relief, her hips bucking forward uncontrollably to maximize the delicious stretch and burn.

"Christ, so wet and tight," Harry ground out, sounding utterly wrecked as he swirled his fingers around her throbbing entrance teasingly. "Made just for me, isn't that right lovely? Made to take my fingers, my tongue..."

His voice dropped to a sinful baritone as he slowly pumped his thick digits in and out of her fluttering, slick heat. Y/N let out a shrill whine of complete surrender, eyes rolling back as she fully gave herself over to the glorious sensations sparking along every nerve-ending.

"Made to take every hard inch of my cock, pushing deep inside this perfect little cunt," Harry continued in that gravelly and raspy tone, leaning down to whisper the obscene words directly against her damp skin.

True to form, his skilled fingers had Y/N right on the edge of shattering with dizzying speed. Her thighs quivered with the coiled tension, inner walls fluttering madly around the deliciously intrusive stretch of his thick digits.

Just when she thought she couldn't take any more of the exquisite torment, when stars were bursting behind her eyelids, Harry abruptly curled his fingers upward in a devastating stroke against that magic spot inside her. Y/N's entire body convulsed as she broke into a thousand kaleidoscopic pieces, a strangled scream of pure euphoria ripping free from her throat.

By the time her vision finally began refocusing, her loose limbs were draped bonelessly over Harry's shoulders, her head spinning in dizzy bliss. She clearly registered the achingly slow push and pull of his fingers continuing to work through her fluttering, overstimulated cunt.

Harry's burning gaze was locked onto her sweat-slicked, flushed skin as he methodically wrung out every last spasm of ecstasy from her boneless frame. The soft, reverent look of awe on his handsome face stole what little breath Y/N had managed to recapture.

"Look at you, darling...absolutely wrecked for me," he husked "So stunning like this, falling apart on my fingers. All fo’ me"

Despite feeling completely satisfied, Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at Harry's words.  He always had been equal parts tender and filthy in his erotic praise and endearments.

Case in point, his next words as he slid his glistening fingers into his mouth to taste her essence were absolutely scorching.

"Clean that essence up for me like a good girl, dove...because I'm going to need you soaked and begging again in about five minutes."

Y/N let out a breathy moan at the promise in his words, knowing full well her legs were going to absolutely sore tonight, her knees wobbly and unable to walk by morning.

She nodded around the slick digits, swirling her tongue around the fullness of them as he sighed at the way she sucked his fingers.

“God, I wish it was m’ cock behind those pretty lips, dove” he pulled them out, placing his hand right over her naked thigh, “but I want it inside your pretty pussy for now”

She nodded, too awestruck to actua;ly process her mind to his words.He shook her head at her, pulling down the pants he had put on earlier.

“Got me so hard. Could’ve burst from listening to you being so filthy for me”

Her cheeks flushed at his risque words, thighs pushing together as his cock sprang free, the angry, red tip throbbing as he took himself into his palm, stroking his length to relieve some of the tension.

She pushed her thighs above each other, feeling utterly flustered and dizzy. He was gong to fuck her, and memories of all the times he had, flooding her mind like ocean water.

Finally, he let go of himself, parting her thighs and slotting himself in between. She let out a broken gasp, mouth going dry as she took a look at her own desperation, red and swollen, yet, so needy and wet.

“Could never get enough of you” he said into her mouth, swallowing her gasp as his cock stretched her open deliciously. A broken moan made its way past her lips, her quivering legs wrapping around him as he slid himself inside her. Her wetness swallowed him up, her pussy gushing with arousal as he angled her hips higher.

“Good, fucking–so damn tight for me” eh cursed, her mouth parting open into another broken sob as he thrust in and out of her, her wet walls taking him in so well. He felt so heavenly, his cock buried inside his pretty, so pretty and perfect girl.

“How did I stay so long without you? Hm?” he asked rhetorically, and she opened her closed eyes. His hand reached between her parted legs, his skilled digits teasing her clit, while his practised strokes made her fall apart under him.

“Oh fuck, yeah–right there” she begged him to keep fucking her, his cock hitting the deepest of spots inside her. It had her mind going numb, her toes curling as he fucked her with delirious intent.

“Pussy’s so good–:” he praised her once again, his fingers finally landing on her clit, a sharp spank that made her cum right then and there.

She arched her back, her head falling back till it touched the counter. She grabbed her nipples, pinching them as he rubbed circles over her clit, his cock fucking her at a pace that had her screaming and begging for more.

“Oh fuck, Harr–Harry, oh my fucking god”

He grabbed her hips, laying her down flat as she choked on another sob, her wetness gushing out and wetting the cold marble counter. Harry was grinning and smirking, watching her fall apart beneath him. He was the only one who could make her mind go absolutely detached, the only thought in her mind being of him. His name. His cock. His hands. The way they made her feel.

“Her orgasm prolonged as he kept her on the edge, her pussy short circuiting is the overstimulation kicked in. She was sore, two orgasms after a day of work would do that to her.

“Harry–” she pouted, her hands reaching out for his, to which he immediately complied, intertwining their fingers.

“Just a little longer, Almost done”

He promised, and began fucking her at the vicious pace again. The room echoed with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, her hips bruised as he sucked a breath in, teetering on the edge of sweet, sweet release.

He came inside her that day, his cock leaking inside her warm, warm cunt till he was fully spent and empty, her cunt full of his load as he stayed inside a little longer, relishing in the way she fluttered around him, squeezing and milking his cock for all he had.

He kissed her knuckles, murmuring sweet words of love as they lay on the counter for a while, her bake affair long forgotten, since she had already gotten a taste of something much sweeter.

***

The next morning, as Y/N was featherlight kissing her way down Harry's chiseled torso with the intent of rousing him for another sensual round, her lips brushed against something unfamiliar on his skin. Frowning, she pushed back the bedsheets to get a better look.

There, etched in thick black ink just above Harry's hipbone, was a new tattoo she had never noticed before. It was a series of numbers, almost like...coordinates?

Y/N felt her breath catch as she recognized the distinctly precise numerical patterning. She had taken enough coding classes to spot geographic coordinates when she saw them.

"Harry..." she gulped, tracing the new ink with a trembling fingertip. "What is this? Why do you have map coordinates tattooed on your body?"

The sleepy, blissed-out expression on Harry's face instantly shuttered closed as soon as the words left Y/N's lips. He seemed to almost freeze for a moment, grimacing ever-so-slightly as he struggled to keep his expression neutral.

"It's...nothing to concern yourself with, darling," he finally replied in a tone that was just a bit too overly-casual. "Just a drunken mistake from a mate's stag night a few weeks back. Doesn't mean anything, I swear."

But Y/N knew her boyfriend too well to be convinced by his nonchalant dismissal. She searched his bright green eyes, unable to shake the feeling that there was much more to this strange new tattoo than he was letting on.

What secrets could Harry possibly be keeping from her? And just where exactly would those map coordinates lead if she dared to follow them?

The delicious haze of their previous intimacy was shattered, replaced by a gnawing sense that Y/N was missing out on some important truth about her boyfriend's life. And she knew their relationship could never regain that blissful closeness until she uncovered what Harry was hiding...

(next part)

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! i want to do a part 2, but this one's long, so we'll see! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

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[nnight-dances]

BEAUTIFUL MONSTER

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x afab!reader

GENRE: angst, smut, fluff in that order of significance

TROPES: workplace romance, boss!jeonghan x associate!you, casual fwb situation but they're not friends they're coworkers, intense banter, nakamoto yuta makes a cameo, toxic relationship at some point but it gets better trust me.

"beautiful monster" because in private, jeonghan is nothing short of an angel to you – charming and devious, teasing but all in good faith, in faith that he was interested in you. but in public, he's monstrous with his cold shoulder, his indifference to you like you weren't in his bed every night, humming him to sleep.

PS: what are you doing with your life if you haven't listened to beautiful monster yet???? go listen to the gift from god called this man from jeonghan x wonwoo okay bye ily

"what makes you think you can prance into my office all prettied up and not even say a hi to me?" 

you look up from the stack of paper you're holding, and innocently tilt your head. "sorry, boss," you accentuate the last syllable with a smile, "just trying to be as resourceful as i can be." 

"oh, come on," jeonghan swivels dangerously in his hefty desk chair, all just to show you the little ridiculous hint of a smirk on his lips. "you're not really mad about that?"

"about what, sir? i'm just doing justice to my position in my short time here, after all."

"you know, quoting things i said back at me isn't as effective of an attack as you think it is, y/n," he tells you, but you can tell he's a little worked up because he shifts a little in his seat. "cut the fucking attitude, princess, what's wrong?" 

you narrow your eyes at him, more so at his audacity to pull out the private nickname in your shared place of work in broad daylight. and on a wednesday no less. "nothing's wrong, mr. yoon. i'm just reflecting on your incredibly insightful speech at the meeting earlier. seems like i don't know you all that well."

"well, you do know me all that well, which is why deep down, you know that whatever i said it wasn't addressed to you." jeonghan stands up and you have to swallow the smug look that threatens to spill out. 

yoon jeonghan, the star employee at his company, didn't get out of his chair, not even to greet the most valuable client. yet here he was, walking to you, hand on your elbow, dangerously unprofessional. 

"must be really deep down because i don't think the man i know would be that cruel to our newest hire," you bite back, shaking his hold over you, "and perhaps it would've helped me interpret you better if you didn't address your grand speech to every low-level associate in the room."

"low-level–? y/n, you know that–"

you don't let him finish, sure he'd find a way to spin his words and get out of being held accountable for the shit he spewed two hours ago. well, you weren't gonna let him get his way, not this time. you bow politely, "good day, mr. yoon. let me know if i can assist you with any work-related matters." 

god, you could be vexing when you wanted to, jeonghan thought to himself watching you stride off in your unbelievably well-fitting pants. he does wonder how you manage to never show up to work covered in creases, what with all the running around you do, from his place to yours every morning. okay maybe every other morning, but it was impressive, the way your white shirts were always crisper than the morning coffee you handed him on your way to your desk, and the way he'd never managed to see your lipstick a smudge out of place in all the time he'd worked with you.

"where'd jenna go again?" you question out loud when you return to find the new hire out of her desk yet again. she'd been the reason jeonghan had burst into his impormptu but condescending talk and though he had some fair reason to speak the way he did, you didn't appreciate the hierarchical intimidation it encouraged. 

"um, i think she just took her fifth bathroom break of the day," muttered seulgi with a grimace. "every time she does that the number of files on my desk goes up."

"send 'em over, seulgi."

"what? no, you have more than enough on your plate–"

"my research and writing skills are what got me hired, so i might as well revisit my roots once in a while. plus, it's gonna take a while to replace jenna, if we're trying to find someone this late."

"all right then, i guess i'll bring these over to you then," seulgi says in an apologegtic tone as she plops a fresh set of files on your desk, which has managed to stay clear of any such physical copies of documents since last year when you convinced joshua to make the firm go paper-free.

well, mostly. except for monkey jobs like this one which usually went to inexperienced hires. but given the unfortunate situation you find yourself in, you have no choice but to ignore your strcitly digital policy to pull out your wooden pencil for the first time in a while.

it takes you long enough to get through half of the stack that jeonghan's done for the day and you haven't moved an inch. he pauses in front of your desk, taken aback at the sight of you reading through a physical file. and then he notices the empty desk down the line, one that should've held the redhead called jenna. 

"and since when did you start doing unpaid labor?"

you look up with a start and sigh when it's jeonghan. "good night, mr. yoon." 

"wow, that's cold. can't a superior worry about his precious protege's wellbeing? y/n, you're overqualified for this work so why don't you put it down and go home?"

your mouth twitches with a bitter comment you barely hold in. "i'm the best person for this job till we find someone else to do it. i'm also the only one with the balls to sit down and finish it on top of my own workload. so i'm sorry but i won't be putting this down just yet. did you want me to call driver choi for you?"

jeonghan blinks silently at you, realizing you weren't gonna listen to a word he said, not even if he was the only voice of reason in your vicinity right now. he shrugs, "i can see myself out. just be here on time tomorrow, we have an important case to discuss."

"as you wish," you nod cordially and return to your work. 

– 

jeonghan's up till four that night, which is when he hears you shuffle into his condo. he silently thanks his past self who decided to drop a spare key to his place when your visits had become a regular thing. 

you're pulling your hair out of the tight ponytail you'd kept it in all day and throw the tie on the nightstand, almost screaming out of your skin when you see jeonghan looking at you, propped up on his shoulder. 

"what the fuck– why are you still awake?"

"why are you mad at me?"

you ignore his question and start untuck your shirt from your pants, unbuttoning them. 

"oh my god, is this the day you finally have mad sex with me–?"

you give jeonghan an unimpressed smile as you let the pants drop and throw yourself into the empty space beside him, closing your eyes with a weary sigh. "wake me up at 6."

jeonghan being the devious idiot he is, only worsens with every second you don't address his words directly. he rolls closer to you, hand finding his place under your shirt, on your hot stomach. "babydoll, i'm sorry you had to work so late," he whispers as he presses a kiss to your skin. "but if you don't talk to me, i can't make things right."

"you can't make things right, period, jeonghan," you tell him, eyes still closed. the man wouldn't get any more of your energy than you could help. "i'll be back to normal if you just let me sleep."

"you're being mean, baby, just let me make it up to you, okay?"

"jeonghan, unless you can change who you are as a very human being, i don't think there's anything you can do," you strain, shoving him away, "i'm not about to throw a tantrum so don't worry. let me sleep if you want to have your best associate working for you tomorrow."

that seems to get the message across because he doesn't say another word. or maybe he does but you're too busy slipping into the sleep you desperately need after a crazy work day. jeonghan wakes you up with a solemn look on his face and you sit up in a panic, thinking something's gone wrong at work.

but then he says, "sorry, i overslept. it's 7. you'll have to wear the spare pair of clothes you keep here to work."

"i hate you," you shriek as you jump out of bed, rushing to freshen up in his bathroom as he nods and starts getting ready himself. he does seem like he's keeping to himself because usually, jeonghan would've made a few too many comments about how cozy and domestic it is for the two of you to be using the same mirror to get ready as if his place didn't have any other mirrors to use. he even lets you fix his tie without a snarky comment, just a little kiss on your cheek that you barely tolerate without a shake of your head. 

he watches you put on the makeup you keep in your purse for emergencies like this, but can't help muse over how much he must hate to the idea of losing you at work to be acting this obedient. you smile a little to yourself, pleased at least at his respect for you, if not his love. 

truth be told, you often regretted being in this strange more than coworkers but less than lovers situation you had with yoon jeonghan, your direct superior at work. but you were too deep in it to back out, too down bad for the man's charms to turn your back to him. 

it had started almost as soon as jeonghan had laid eyes on you, his private conversations with you always consisted of one too many suggestive comments and he somehow always managed to flirt with you without you truly registering it. by the time you recognized the unprofessional nature of your relationship with him, you were five kisses too late. late nights at the office turned into late nights at his place, because it was conveniently much closer to the office than yours. 

somewhere along the way, though, you had to face the harsh reality that no matter how sweet jeonghan could be when he was flirting with you, he was always going to be something of a beautiful monster. because in private, jeonghan is nothing short of an angel to you – charming and devious, teasing but all in good faith, in faith that he was helplessly into you. but in public, he's monstrous with his cold shoulder, his indifference to you like you weren't in his bed every night, humming him to sleep.  

the harsh reality you face that very morning when he calls you into his office. 

"morning how can i–," you start and then make eye-contact with the man seated on the sofa across from jeonghan. "oh, morning, mr. nakamoto! i didn't realize you were in town!"

nakamoto yuta laughs loudly at your hurried greeting, crossing his legs as he shamelessly checks you out. "oh, come now, call me yuta like the good old days, y/n! and where were you this morning when i was all over the place trying to find the famous yoon jeonghan's office."

"ah, i'm sorry i was a little late this morning–" you spare a glance at jeonghan smiling in his chair, "my cheap excuse of an alarm didn't go off on time. i really should get a new one."

"if you'd come to work for me like i asked, you wouldn't have to work at the ass crack of dawn y'know?" yuta raises a brow at you with a small grin and you tuck some hair behind your ear bashfully, not forgetting to observe how jeonghan is stiff in his seat. as stiff as a slick bastard like him could get anyway because you could've missed the glare he shot you when he stands up and crosses the room to yuta. 

he pauses next to you, cold hand coming to rest on your arm, a possessive gesture explicit enough for yuta to muse over. "i didn't realize you came in here to declare war over my best associate, yuta, or i would've prepared harder."

the japanese businessman laughs wholeheartedly, "sorry, han, you know i can't help myself these days. it's getting harder to find familar faces in the industry these days, what with all the incompetence that's cropping up." he sighs then with a glance in your direction, "still mad you came to work for this asshole over me."

you chuckle, letting down your guard a little at the man's sincere comment. "what would've been the point of working at your company when you'd always be across the globe, vacationing in some fancy hotel every other week?" you question with a smile, "anyway, don't lose hope, maybe i'll change career paths mid-life, so don't delete my resume from your system just yet."

"all right, i'll take that as a promise," yuta winks at you as you take your leave from the office. 

an hour or so later, you're summoned to jeonghan's office again, with a brief, "y/n, please." you suppress the urge to roll your eyes, knowing there wasn't any real need for you to be in the room with them except for yoon jeonghan's egoistic need to fuck with your head. 

"how can i help you?" you ask with your sweetest business smile and jeonghan stands up from the sofa next to yuta. he gestures to the other man with a glint in his eye, "y/n, mr. nakamoto says he has the rest of the day to himself before he heads out. i thought it'd be a waste to just let him roam on his own, why don't you accompany him?"

you blink blankly at jeonghan, taken aback at his thoughtless request. treating you like just another associate who worked under him was one thing, but treating you like his personal assistant who'd entertain his friends' whims was entirely another. 

and you know he realizes this because of how closely he's watching you, lips set in a lilt because he loves seeing his stupid little scenarios play out. yuta stands up when he senses the tension, "ah, don't bother y/n, han. i'm sure she has a lot of work to do. i'll just–"

"no, no, i insist," jeonghan pushes, only glancing at the man he was so earnestly trying to please. "you don't mind, do you, y/n?"

you inhale, sensing the challenge behind his words. the way he said it, it was almost inappropriate for work, the smirk and the way his eyes were all over you. but honestly, you hated his guts for trying to get you down like this. so if a challenge was what he wanted, then that'd be exactly what he was going to get. 

"not at all!" you start, a cheerful beam on your face that catches both men off their guards and you continue, "please, i was hoping for some time to catch up with mr. nakamoto– sorry, with yuta, anyway, so honestly, thank you, mr. yoon. i'll just go grab my stuff and meet you in the lobby?"

"oh– okay, sure thing," yuta mutters, glancing between you and jeonghan uneasily. you don't spare your boss another look as you leave his office and furiously pack your things into your purse, slinging it over your arm. "i won't be back today, seulgi, so don't text me unless everyone starts dropping dead while i'm gone."

–

"so you don't show up at work all day and then you ignore all my calls? i am your boss, y/n, you can't just blow me off whenever you please," jeonghan's voice is muffled on the other side, and you're guessing he's in his car, on the way back to his place. 

you, on the other hand, had been home for nearly three hours now after your little date with yuta, the man who'd walked around the city with your for a few hours before taking you out to a late lunch slash early dinner at the nicest place you'd been to in a while. so yes, you were in a good mood and honestly, hearing how mad jeonghan is on the line only makes you smile more. 

"oh, sorry, i didn't realize you were bipolar like that," you say in a pleased voice, "because last i remember you basically begged me to babysit your client for you."

"client?" jeonghan scoffs,  "you make it sound like you weren't sleeping with that guy for almost five years before i came along."

"well, i'm sleeping with you now and you don't hear me calling you anything but my boss to anyone."

"you're a real piece of work sometimes, aren't you?" the man snaps and then after a solemn pause, "what did you do with him all day, anyway?"

you chuckle softly, "can't disclose private matters like that i'm afraid. besides, i'm having real trouble understanding why you sound pissed at me when all i was doing was following your instructions."

"huh, that's funny, you want to get rewarded for running around with another man while i was banging my head at the wall all day today? don't ever try to pull shit like this again or–"

"or what, jeonghan? you're gonna fire me?" you ask, "how about you stop treating me like i'm the dirt on your shoe as soon as you're done using me for sex? i'm not your personal assistant that you can just order around to wet your friends' cocks whenever you fucking want, okay? or i'll be the one considering yuta's offer seriously." 

before jeonghan can have a chance to respond, you hang up on him, breathing deeply to calm yourself down. you take in your apartment, somewhat of an abandoned mess with all the nights you'd spend at jeonghan's. you felt guilty for own behavior, ignoring your own needs for so long that you'd forgotten what being respected really felt like. maybe what you needed was a real relationship.

–

"that's always been your problem, y/n," rina groans, "you always forget that there's men other than the ones you work with."

"ouch! you make it sound like i've only ever fucked my coworkers–"

"worse, your bosses–"

"okay, so it happened like twice! you're forgetting all the wholesome moments i had in high school," you warn her across the table with a fork. 

"you mean how you rejected any decent guy with genuine feelings for you in favor of chasing older men who didn't know your name?"

"i'll have you know i chased those old men because they were the ones who could get me the job i have today, so i won't apologize for doing what i had to do to have the career i wanted."

rina sighs, "that's not the problem. you could've networked with the people working in the industry and had a healthy relationship with someone your age. but you always got so emotionally attached to anyone who offered you advice that you didn't have time for anything else."

you stare at your coffee dejectedly, swallowing the hard truths your oldest friend was hurling at you. cruel as she was, you knew she wasn't going to sugarcoat things for you, not when you dragged her all the way across town on a saturday to have lunch with you when she had a million other things lined up with her upcoming wedding.

"i don't know how you do it, rina," you mumble, "you've a stable job, a beautiful home, and a doting fiance. god, that's like three worlds apart from the dump of a reality i live in."

"okay, now that's just untrue, y/n," rina scolds you softly, shaking her head, "plus, you have the first two things on that list."

"i have a job, but my place is far from home. i don't even sleep in it most days, plus, i think the last factor on the list kinda trumps everything else by a lot."

"well, who is that on anyway? it's not like you're undesirable or fucked up, you know?"

you groan, "what should i do, rina?"

"find someone who doesn't work the same 100 hour work week as you might be a start? maybe then you can stop treating your boss like a god."

"rina, you don't understand," you complain, "i know i make it sound too good to believe, but he's the smoothest talker you'll ever see and god, don't even get me started on how good he is in bed–"

"y/n, it's not the man's dick that matters, it's his heart," rina interrupts and when she doesn't burst out laughing like you do, you stop with a questioning look. "i'm serious, dude, you're not gonna be in it for the sex like 10 years down the line when everything hurts, inside and out. trust me, the minute you meet even a remotely normal man with reasonable expectations from life, you'll know what i mean–"

"that's the problem–" you start to explain your own beliefs when a head in your periphery catches your eye. "fuck me," you groan immediately when you realize who's sitting about two tables away from you.

"come on, y/n, i just talked to you about this, you can't be thinking about–"

"no, no, listen, don't look right now, but…" you trail off in disbelief and then force yourself to finish, "but my fucking boss is sitting to our left."

"you mean the fucking boss… you're… fucking?"

"yeah, that one…"

a few beats pass as rina slowly takes a look at the man across from you, hair down from the low ponytail it usually found itself in. at the perfect timing, jeonghan laughs at something the lady across from him says, hair bouncing to reveal his flawless features. 

"wow, he looks like nothing like you've described him as–"

"what, i've been going on for hours about–"

"about his charm, not how drop-dead gorgeous he is! i've been imagining some greasy old douche, not this tall glass of water…"

"first of all, your lack of trust in my taste in men is truly offensive… and–"

rina interrupts you, for the nth time in every conversation that you've ever had with her. "–it's worth mentioning that your taste in men is walking toward us as we speak–" 

"what…" you look up all too suddenly to find the man a few steps away, sly smirk in place as he approached you. 

"hello there, ladies," he starts in a low amused smile and god, if you could strangle him or yourself into silence just there you would've but instead you match his smile. 

"oh– hi, mr. yoon, i didn't expect to run into you here," you laugh it off with a pointed look at him, hoping he'd have the common decency to fuck off when you were clearly with a friend on one of your only days off. 

but you should know better because jeonghan will never give up a chance to open his mouth, especially in front of a stranger he hasn't had the chance to charm yet. 

"and neither did i! but here i am, with my lovely coworker and her…" his eyes dance over to rina who flushes under his gaze by the slightest, "gorgeous friend?"

you roll your eyes at the question and don't think it worth mentioning, especially when you're too busy choking yourself over his description of you as a 'coworker'. yeah, right. 

"right, we were just–"

"talking about the guy who's interested in y/n!" rina chimes in, her grin saying she thinks she's helping you but you kick her under the table, warning her to cut it off. 

"what–"

"huh, what's that again?" jeonghan asks, smile momentarily faltering at rina's comment. 

"ah, you know, y/n's just been so popular with guys since i've known her but she's never had time to settle down. but this guy's just been dying to meet her and when she called me to lunch today, i thought she'd finally be ready to meet the man of her dreams."

"the man of my dreams?" you choke yet again over a strangled laugh, "rina, you're really funny. you know i have nothing of that sort–"

"oh, come on," rina brushes you off with a scrunch of her nose and turning to jeonghan who seemed immersed in the bullshit your best friend was spewing. "she's just too shy to talk about it but– she told me, too drunk off her ass to remember, she'd only want to marry a man who was desperately head over heels for her, gives up everything to be with her, just to see her smile–"

"rina, i think–"

"and oh, what was it that you said? he needs to be able to think what i think before i've thought it? i'm not even looking at him if he doesn't worship the ground i walk on?? wow, y/n, you were full of it back then, weren't you?"

you redden, out of words at this point, half-mad she was yapping and half-mad at yourself for actually having said all the shit she was yapping. yes, god knows you did say everything she was saying, and there was a blurry video on your phone proving it somewhere. rina'd known you wouldn't believe a word without proof, so she'd recorded it without you realizing.

jeonghan's looking at you when you look up from your lap and rina cuts in again, "but you can't be to blame, now, can you? your parents always treated you like a princess, and your brother basically acted like your bodyguard until you moved out… i'd be full of myself too if i grew up like that."

you inhale deeply as you glare at rina, slowly standing up, "um, i think we should go soon or we'll miss the movie. right, rina?" you force your words out so rina can recognize you're not kidding. 

"y/n, can i talk–"

"sorry," you cut jeonghan off, too, head reeling too hard to respond to anything that man's got to say to you, "i really have to rush but if it's something urgent, why don't you just leave a voicemail? i'll get to it on monday."

"ooooh, that was hot," rina whispers into your shoulder as the two of you pay the bill and head out. "god, did i love torturing the two of you in there. and honestly, serves him good–"

"what the fuck was that?"

"what the fuck was what? i was just showing that bastard what you actually deserve," rina snaps, eyes wide, "you might not remember what you're made of, y/n, but i do and i'm not gonna watch as you let that asshole use you. he can realize what your standards are or he can find someone else to fuck with. not my best friend."

"...rina," you stop in your tracks, rina's words finally starting to make sense in retrospect, "you're—"

"okay, please don't get emotional on me, i have a movie to catch and you know i can't focus if i'm tired."

– 

that very night, you come out of the shower to your phone blowing up, stifling a smile when you see jeonghan's name plastered over your notifications. after a thought to it, you pick up.

"what?" you take on your most indifferent tone.

"wow, that's cold," jeonghan's voice is clear this time. he's at home. "you can really be a stranger sometimes, baby."

"it's not hard, i just pretend i'm you at work," you tell him with a petty smile he can't see but most definitely hears because he immediately scoffs.

"listen, i didn't call to fight you, okay? i just want to talk. i–" he stops abruptly as if out of breath and then, softly, "i'm sorry."

that's a first. 

"i didn't quite catch that, mind repeating what exactly you're sorry for?"

you hear his sigh loud and clear, "y/n, let me make it up to you. i'm sorry i've been an asshole to you, especially at work. won't you come over?"

"no, i won't. i have some beauty sleep to catch up on."

"then, i'll come over. but please, let me in. and i don't mean into your place, i mean into your mind. i know you want a grandiose dream man but i can't read your mind just yet, so just let me… let me understand you better." after a beat of silence, he punctuates his words with a "please?"

"...you know where i live?"

"wasn't born yesterday, princess. give me 10 and i'll be there. make sure you're wearing clothes."

he hangs up on you and you barely have a moment to yourself to calm your intense hearbeat and equally chaotic thoughts after what jeonghan just said. i can't read your mind just yet. just yet? did he intend to??? intend to what, become to man of your dreams???? 

as much as you internally cringe at the thought, your cheeks are flushed when you let jeonghan that night, watching carefully as he took his shoes off, wearing a strangely casual grey hoodie and sweatpants. somehow you'd only ever seen him in his suit. or without it. 

he looks at you for a moment too long, and then his hand comes to carress your hair gently, "hmm, never seen you with your wet hair down."

"what do you want, jeonghan?" you cross your arms.

"you know sometimes i think i prefer you call me mr. yoon over jeonghan. you sound like you're going to kill me in my sleep when you say jeonghan."

"or i could just kick you out of my apartment. my landlord takes break-ins very seriously."

"alright, alright," jeonghan backs off, keeping his hands to himself, "can i at least have some water first? nervous to be all alone in your place with you."

you narrow your eyes at him and when he just shrugs, you gestures to the kitchen. "you can figure out how to pour yourself, can't you?"

"y/n, i–" he takes a gulp of the water, and then sighs, "i want to take you out. like a proper boyfriend."

"that's crazy because unfortunately, i don't have any time to be going out with anyone right now."

"if you're going to lie about your work committments, maybe don't do it to my face? our schedules are basically married so i know exactly when you're free."

"oh, i see what's happening," you throw yourself on your couch with a mirthless laugh, "you're blackmailing me into dating you, aren't you? don't worry i won't go around spilling the tea about your kinks in bed if you just leave me alone, mr. yoon."

"okay i lied, it's infinitely worse when you call me that. how about just calling your sweet angel, han, huh? no, okay? listen, y/n, i'm serious. i want to be more than your toxic boss who you have mindblowing sex with."

"you are–"

"i'm not saying this for any of the ulterior motives you're trying so hard to think of. believe it or not, i'm into you, y/n, and when you left me hanging for like three days straight, i couldn't stop thinking of you. and well, i did miss the sex, but what i missed more than anything was hanging out with you. spending time with you." 

"...what if i'm not into you like that?" you ask with a quirked brow, not quite satisfied with the case he was presenting. he stood still across from you at your kitchen counter, breathing shallow though you weren't certain why.

"that would be fair but i'm asking you to give us a chance because i know i've never had a connection with someone like i do with you. our stupid banter, your witty ways to save my life at work and outside before i can anticipate them, and of course, our amazing chemistry in bed– y/n, i never will find something like this again. and you can say i'm full of myself, but neither will you."

if you were slowly starting to doubt that it really was yoon jeonghan in front of you confessing his love to you, you don't anymore when he adds that last arrogant part in. "you're awfully confident for someone who was blowing my phone up an hour ago," you tell him, looking away, "but honestly, jeonghan, i'm getting old, okay? i don't think i have time to play your games anymore. i'm gonna find myself a decent man and settle—"

"you hearing yourself? you're gonna settle?" jeonghan's crosses over to you, sitting on your coffee table and before you can tell him off, he takes both of your hands in his with the tenderness of a man that you've never seen him capable of being. "i know i'm not the most promising prospect of a boyfriend, let alone a husband, but i'm willing to change. not even change, i'm just going to stop pretending to be a little bitch to you at work because honestly it was killing but i was doing it to protect myself from getting too attached to you. but it's too late. i'm down bad for you, y/n."

"and i may not be the decent man you're looking for, but i can assure i love you more than anyone on the market. because i know you like nobody else can, and i'm going to stick by you no matter what."

you take a breath and hold it just to test if you're dreaming but then jeonghan drops his head into your hand, letting your fingers into his soft hair. "just give me a chance, y/n. i'm… nothing without you." his voice is small now, his charming self who showed up to rooms full of busy people to give them a pitch of their life long gone. he was just a man right now, pleading you to let him in so you could both have a real shot at loving each other. 

you pull your hands out of jeonghan's clutch, watching his expression turn into one of panic but you silence him by bringing them to his face, gingerly guiding his eyes to yours. he blinks back, pure and solemn. "where was this guy when i was begging to be held for the past week?" you wonder, half to yourself, "and before you apologize, it's okay. i… haven't been a saint myself. it was unfair to not give you the short end of the stick when i'd given you the impression it was all good and fine until now."

"but you have to know how little i feel when you treat me without respect at work– not just because you're my boss, but because i care about what you think of me… as a person. i want to be with you, to love you. so if you can be real with me like this, i think we can make it work."

jeonghan kisses your hand softly, "i'm sorry. i– i will do better. and just to be sure, that was a yes?"

"yes."

"yes, you'll be my girlfriend, my one and only lover, the apple of my eye, the prettiest sight since the moon was revealed?"

"...yes. and flattery is not one the list of real qualties," you tell him despite the blush that colors you. 

"really? it's a good thing that i meant every single thing i just said then, isn't it?" he leans closer, breath hot against your already hot face. "can i kiss you then, love?"

the new nickname only makes you more dazed and you nod with a mewl, meeting jeonghan's lips halfway. he kisses you like he's never before — without a hint of urgency, like he could kiss you for the rest of his life and not regret a moment. he's slow and intentful, eyes fluttering and breath heavy, almost like his heart was wreaking as much of a havoc as yours was in your chest. 

you press a hand to his chest, reassured by the heat of beat that meets you, and he pulls away in surprise at your motion. jeonghan's flushed and speechless like he's never been, just watching you through his lashes, out of breath. 

you look down at his body, taking in his tall figure cramped in the little space between the two of you. his legs cage yours on either side, knees meeting your thighs, and his arms resting gently on your waist. it's like his body's swallowing you whole, and thought heats you up in a way that has you tearing up. 

when you hide your face in your hands out of the blue, jeonghan's large hands find yours, cooing them away. "what's wrong?"

"overwhelmed…" you tell him in a tiny voice, "i've– you never… you've never been so gentle with me. i feel like i'm going to break."

"that's ironic, isn't it," he asks softly but not mockingly. "you're so precious, i can't believe i haven't done this sooner. i guess i was always in such a hurry to feel your skin before time ran out… before it was too late… or something? either way, i'm here to stay now so let's take it slow."

"so you'll kiss me like that again?" you ask, looking at your intertwined hands. he squeezes back. 

"you liked that? let me see your lips again, i'm never not doing that again."

you giggle at his enthusiastic reaction, his lips already a breath away from yours, feeling your sounds in his whole being like he'd been starved. he kisses you again, not letting go till you pull away with a gasp. "god, i need air, han, you'll kill me at this rate."

jeonghan's too busy peppering your skin with more kisses, "good, you're back to calling me han. and as for needing air, we'll just have to do that a lot so you can build up a stamina."

—

"love it when you do that, god–" jeonghan's all over his own words, trying to get them out as soon fast as possible, "can you say it again? i'm gonna record it–" 

"han," you warn him in a stiff voice, "tell me you didn't just walk out of a meeting to come ask me to say– i'm not saying it, okay? so let go of my hand before seulgi comes back and you'll still have a reputation around here."

"no, you can't do this to me, babe," he's whining now and it'd be great for your ego if you couldn't see the room full of people waiting for him to get back so he could continue the meeting. "just tell me what you told rina about the dates i take you on and then i'll be out of your hair."

"first of all, you were never supposed to hear any of that," you push jeonghan away when he protests dangerously close to your face, "and second, if you want to have a girlfriend at the end of the day, you're gonna walk away from my desk and go back to your doing your job. okay, han? i can't do this now, let's talk at night."

"...fine. if you agree to sleep over at mine."

"done. now go."

"and you'll hold hands when we walk–"

"go."

he turns around obediently not before throwing a flying kiss in your direction and you truly have to wonder how he ever managed to act so uptight with you at work when he can be hopeless like this. 

"i'll have you know," he whines that night when you're coddling him in his bed, "that i'm that hopeless only because i'm head over heels for you. i love you, love, and i can't stop loving you, even if a bunch of suited assholes want to find ways to keep me apart from you."

"a bunch of suited assholes is your job description, angel," you laugh into his chest, "and god, you need to stop doing that at work. at least find a room if you want to be all up in my personal space, okay?"

"reserve a room just so we can make out? hmm, not a bad idea—"

"that is the exact opposite of what i was suggesting–"

"and yet here i am, with the great idea in my brain. noted, princess likes risky sex at work. thrill of getting caught? or is–"

"when did making out turn into risky sex?"

"you know i can never stop at just that once i've started," he says, kissing your forehead and you hit his face softly. "liar. big words from someone who refused to do anything but kiss me all night last night, and the night before that, and what about the time we went to dinner that time? oh, right, you didn't even kiss me."

"are you mad i'm being mindful of my pace?" jeonghan asks with a half smile, seriously concerned when you bring it up.

"no, i'm just shocked at the change up from when all you could think about was where and how we were gonna fuck."

"well, be assured that i still think about fucking you anywhere and everywhere at all times, but i'm more than that man now. i've got boyfriend worries now, 'kay? i want to savor every single thing we do, every date i take you on, and every small adorable thing you do. i'm not doing it the casual way. it's either all or nothing."

"you're scary when you're in love," you marvel with a sweet smile, "but full disclosure on my part, han, but i kind of need you to fuck my mind out because i'm literally dying here."

jeonghan goes still, pulling away to look at your face, amazed at the filth you could spawn with the purest smile on your lips. when he catches the glint of desperation in your eye though, he's switching control immediately, over to the jeonghan he'd managed to suppress so expertly to focus on treating you right. 

"damn it, you're gonna be the death of me, looking at me like that–" he's on top of you in a split second, his hair brushing the nape of your neck where he dives into your skin. "wasn't gonna ruin you again till i really had to, but fucking hell, woman, you know how to work a guy up."

"i can tell," you murmur, hands roaming all over his body, finding the hard bulge in his boxers all to familiar. "had to provoke you, y'know my fingers aren't enough."

jeonghan lets out an ungodly sound at your words, and you revel in the way he's coming undone, the way you've managed to push all the wrong buttons. to be fair, was it really wrong if it drove jeonghan to give you the best head he'd ever given you? 

when he rises from between your legs, you kiss him hard, tasting yourself on his tongue, and stealing his breath when you push him over so you could straddle him. "let me return the favor?" you lick your lips to really seal the deal.

"you–" he groans when you don't wait to pull his boner out of its restraints, smiling ever so demurely like he'd presented you with new clothes or a ticket to your favorite show. when you take a lick at his tip, he twitches, hands in your hair forcing you away from his dick. 

"--can't–" he's hardly comprehensible but he manages to get his request out, "can't take it for much longer. need to be inside you."

"thought you'd never ask, hannie," you gasp innocently and jeonghan swears he's already seeing stars from the nickname you only pull out on the verge of your orgasms. he's spewing all sorts of obscenities when you sheath him in your warm pussy, and you make sure you take in the sight before you. 

jeonghan's glittering with sweat, lips wonderfully swollen and eyes rolled back in his head with the height of pleasure he was feeling. he looked like an angel, even when he was so fucked out, chest deliciously hard against your touch and his voice contrastingly in its sweet chorus of your name. he was doing much of the work even though you were riding him, long fingers trailing from your boobs to clasp your waist so he could have perfect control of your body.

when he's close, he swallows a whine and you clench around him just to rip the sound out of his throat, the moan halfway between a scream and a song to your ears. that alone brings you close with jeonghan's thumb at your clit really bringing you to the edge. 

"come for me, hannie," you elicit another heavenly sound from him, "please, let me feel you inside me." 

"i'm coming, y/n, fuck!" he bites his own tongue and then gives up when you keep going, "fuck, fuck, fuck, i'm going to– fuckk–"

you both fall over with the wave of pleasure that hits your bodies, elevated ever more when each of you feels the others heat. it takes a minute of panting for you to feel your heartbeat in your chest and see jeonghan's limp body under yours. you roll over so your back can hit the cold sheets. 

you genuinely black out a little from the exhaustion because when you come to, jeonghan's between your legs with a warm towel cleaning you up. he looks up when you sit up with an unspeakable look in his eyes. he crawls over, voice hoarse as his lips meets yours. "i think you just changed my life, y/n, that was amazing."

"it was, i think i was on another planet for a hot minute there…" you say, oddly nervous with jeonghan's body touching yours as if you hadn't been all over each other a second ago. 

"you were… unbelievable. i've never been that gone before, y'know? you might've broken me… all that after i promised to be nothing but a gentleman to you." jeonghan sighs a little with a shake of his head.

"sorry, angel," you run a hand through his hair, feeling him relax under your touch, "i was pent up, what from fighting with you and then suddenly becoming all lovey dovey. for what it's worth, i think we just upped fucking game. and it's probably because we aren't lying to each other anymore."

"probably because you're all mine now," he says victoriosly, kissing your hand like he did the night he'd come to your place to beg you to take a shot at a life with him. you're so glad you did because you couldn't imagine another place where you'd feel this way, completely like yourself and nothing like yourself. 

"always have been," you assure him as you press a kiss to the back of his neck, throwing your hands around his shoulders. you liked to hug him to sleep, like you'd always yearned to every time you unwittingly fell asleep next to him. he shifts closer so your legs touch and you feel his lips graze your wrist lovingly, pressing kisses to the warm skin till you'd drifted into a deep sleep.

NOTE:

still not sane about that instagram update from jeonghan because those images of him have me feeling like this: 🤭🧍‍♀️😧🌀🥵😇🖐️🫦🙁 if you know what i mean. i will be crying about it for the next few days till i can think straight so that's that!

honest to god, somebody restrain me from writing and thinking about this man because i’m genuinely unwell about him. genuinely this is a cry for help. i told myself i wasn't going to write another jeonghan fic (see: the 50 wips i have waiting that involve not jeonghan) but here i am. speedwrote this in less than 2 days and took 2 hours to select the header icons and they still suck. self-indulgent content as always but anyway, i think i will die thinking about yoon jeonghan so here's my small contribution to anyone else who feels anything similar to me. i hope you enjoy and please i love hearing your thoughts so any reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of Both Worlds (part 18)

Tw: nothing much, also boring chapter its just some filler and introduction of another character, cause if its only between yves and monty its gonna get old quick . So i threw in a sacrifice side character

Part 19

Mr Jones nodded. The ride will take an hour. You hope Yves won't be grieving over that $200.

While waiting in traffic, you stared out of the window. Watching the planes in the distance roam in the air.

"Mx (name), I heard that you will be starting your semester orientation tomorrow."

You confirmed it, he asked which University you go to. You told him the name of your university.

"Ah, that is a prestigious university. My daughter received a scholarship to study there!" He bragged as a proud father.

"Her name is Evangeline, Do you by chance know her?"

You doubt so. The only person you hung around with is Yves, and you only started doing that after your exams.

"My daughter has a green thumb, she loves her plants and flowers. So much so, she pursued a degree in botany!"

You scratched the back of your neck. Evangeline Jones from Botany. She sounds familiar.

It isn't like you were a complete recluse. You did attend orientation and made a hoard of temporary friends. The friendships never seem to go anywhere, so you slowly fall out of touch with them. To the point that neither of you say hi to each other upon passing by.

You used to have a whole phonebook of contacts that gave you the illusion that you're popular, but you deleted almost all of them except for a select few group members. You think you have seen an "Evangeline Jones" before.

"But..." His smile fell. "My poor daughter is having a hard time fitting in. She would complain to my wife about how she barely has any friends."

You hummed in acknowledgement. You understand the feeling.

"She used to, but they were jealous of her and started spreading horrible rumors about my child. My daughter takes a lot from my wife, so she's naturally beautiful! It's just... such a shame she met the wrong group of people."

Wait a minute...

You asked if Evangeline is blonde.

"Yes! That's right, she has the most beautiful blonde hair. She got her blue eyes from my wife, her nose from me and lips from the of us."

Oh.

Poor girl. You never spoke much to her, but during the times you did, she was the sweetest, most soft spoken person you knew. There were rumors going on about her stealing someone's partner. You don't know how true it was, but you can say for certain she is beautiful.

You've seen her eating by herself at random outdoor places. But you've never cared to make contact.

She obviously cannot compare to Yves's levels, but she is definitely a lot higher than average.

"Say, how about this, Mx (name). The florist she works at is just a couple of steps away from this Ice cream parlor of yours. I know you're a kind soul and you two would be great friends! I bring you to meet her and I won't charge this trip. How does that sound?"

You shrugged. Why not? Less burden on Yves's bank account and you get to have a friend. So you agreed.

"Perfect! Trust me, Mx (name), you and Evangeline will be the bestest of friends! She will be the sweetest girl you've ever met!" Mr Jones was extremely happy. You guess it's because it hurts to see your own child being alienated by her peers. He is a good father, doing what he can to help her make friends.

Though, you don't know if this is the best way to do it. Perhaps to some other clients, it's considered unprofessional at best, perverse at worst. Maybe he could just tell that you're a normal student.

Or... it's probably because he heard you bawl your eyes out in front of Yves about how you didn't have friends.

Yeah, that's the most plausible reason. How embarrassing.

__

The glass door swung open and the bell struck against the frame. Alerting the person behind the counter that someone entered the store.

"Hi sweetie! There is someone I want you to meet."

"Oh! Hi Daddy! Who is it?" She was tending to a bucket of petunias. Evangeline stretched her neck to see who is trailing behind him.

You emerged behind his back and waved awkwardly.

Evangeline gave you the most dazzling smile as she greeted you.

"Hello, welcome to Nancy's florist. I think we've met before, haven't we?"

You told her yes, you met her from orientation.

"Ah! I remember now. It's nice to see you again, how are you?" She asked.

You replied that you're fine and returned the questions.

"Mm, Well. I'm nervous for tomorrow. You know, first day jitters." She giggled, but you could tell she is uncomfortable. Most likely wondering if you knew of the rumors.

"I see you two are well acquainted! That's good!" Her father gleefully remarked.

"How did you come across..." She tried to remember your name.

You refreshed her memory.

"(name)! Yes. How did you come across each other?"

"Well, Sir Yves hired me to become their chauffeur for the week."

Evangeline puts her work away and wipes her hands on a nearby hand cloth. She's only slightly taller than you are.

"That's great, daddy." She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Did... they request to come here?"

"Oh! No. They wanted to visit the Ice Cream parlour down the street. Say, sweetie. What if you take a break and get a bit more acquainted with them with some good ol' ice cream." He grinned.

Suddenly, horror consumed her expression.

She turned to you.

"I'm so sorry. My dad is- my dad was just trying to help me find some friends. He's always like this. This isn't the Ice cream shop, (name)."

You said that it's fine. It's near her florist anyways.

"There isn't an Ice Cream shop anywhere near here. The next one is a 15 minute drive away."

Oh.

You suck as maps then.

"Oh, it's fine. I'll drive both of you there."

"Daddy." She seethe through her clenched jaw.

"They're also looking for friends! I don't see the harm in introducing you to them."

You opened your mouth to say something but was cut off by Evangeline.

"You can't just do this to your clients! It's so unprofessional!"

"Mx (name) agreed to it!"

"That's because they're nice! What would Sir Yves think of this!?"

"I'm not charging him for this trip!"

"Then you are making a loss for my sake! You're wasting their time and yours, daddy! They wanted to go to an Ice Cream Shop, you brought them to a florist!"

"Come on! They're also looking to make friends, aren't you, Mx (name)?"

They both stared at you. You began freezing up under the pressure.

The bickering was interrupted when a customer entered the shop.

She greeted them albeit shakily and worked to serve them.

You left the building out of embarrassment.

__

In the end though, her father convinced to close up early for the day and go to that Ice Cream parlor with you.

He drove off after dropping you and his daughter.

"So... um." She fiddled with her ice cream spoon. Her strawberry flavored one is starting to melt and drip onto the plate under the cup.

You weren't paying attention because you're snarfing down the ice cream. It was the best you ever had. Since you have a fresh injection of five grand into your account, you can buy as much as your heart desires.

"What did you hear about me?" She asked. You stopped and looked at her. She's staring at you with a straight face.

You asked what she meant by that.

"You know..." She tried to vaguely gesture to something.

You told her you heard rumors of her sleeping with a taken man.

"There we go." She fell back into the comfortable chair and rolled her eyes. Her blonde hair, blue floral, off-the-shoulders sun dress fluttering along.

You asked if it was true.

"No. It wasn't. That was such a horrible thing, I would never do that! I... I didn't understand why she would tell such a lie." Evangeline had her sights downcast.

"Did you believe it, (name)?" She looked at you.

You had to wait a few minutes to recover from your brain freeze.

Once you're done, you told her you didn't pay attention. Or cared, you were struggling to pay your own rent and that occupied the entirety of your mind.

She looked relieved. "I'm sorry to hear that (name)."

You told her not to be, you managed to scrounge enough to pay for that month. You're in a much better position now, financially.

She gave you a polite smile. "Well, I'm glad to hear it."

There was an awkward silence between the two of you again.

"Umm. Are you ready for tomorrow?"

You said no.

"Yeah. Me neither."

Crickets again.

"What classes do you have?"

Your eyes widened. You forgot to choose your timetable!

"What!? You're supposed to do that two weeks ago!"

You logged into your student portal. Only to see that your timetable has been allocated.

Huh? You don't remember...

You checked your University email. It was almost like blowing metaphorical dust bunnies and cobwebs off. You have not opened it since the end of last semester.

You saw an email sent in by Yves two weeks ago.

"(name),

I assume you will be reading this a day before the beginning of your second semester.

I enrolled you in your required courses and allocated your classes for you. I gave you a few reminders prior to the deadline.

Please be mindful of your passwords. You wrote your login credentials on a piece of sticky note I found in your bag while cleaning. You also had your banking information and the PIN number of your debit card on it. I strongly recommend using a digital password manager, I will cover the monthly fee for you.

Well done on your exams. You have achieved exemplary results. You were being too harsh on yourself as you received a high distinction on each paper. I am very proud of you, (name).

Best of luck returning to academia. Come see me if you need additional support, be it emotional or financial. I will provide it in any way I can.

Love,

Yves"

That's right. You didn't even bother to check what you got for your exams. Fully believing that you're failing each subject, you just wanted to enjoy your holiday with Yves in peace. You didn't want to know.

You can't believe you got straight As though. It's crazy, all you did was cry in that exam.

"What's up?" She asked. You've been staring at your phone for a while.

You said nevermind, it's been settled. She also visibly relaxed.

"Thank goodness. Hey, I think we have the same class."

She pointed at your timetable.

That is interesting.

"We could meet up!" She clapped her hands in glee. "And we could go for lunch too, this is great!"

You matched her energy and cheered in the parlour. Attracting some eyes due to the rowdiness.

Both of you cower in shame and laughed it off.

The afternoon was spent awkwardly trying to make conversation with each other.

[kimyoonmiauthor]

How to tell when someone is fishing you for ideas.

So a while back I was pitching an idea but the editor kept trying to say the pitch wasn't good enough, but to resubmit the proposal. But it turned out that editor was fishing to try to make the existing article in their roster better WITHOUT CREDIT.

And I get that ideas are a dime a dozen to some people who don't spend months researching to come up with one, but I wanted to give a guide on how do you know an editor/writer is fishing so this sort of thing doesn't happen to you.

And I know some people will auto-call me a trouble maker, because ya know, Asian, etc. But I kinda feel like in light of this:

We need to talk about fishing, why it is wrong, (though it should be obvious, like WTF) and the signs that agents, editors and your fellow writers are fishing.

Asking for diversity when there are none on their roster/all of their clients are problematic.

Agent asks for PoC/queer authors CONSTANTLY. They are in your feed everywhere, but when you look up their client list it's filled with authors who do Nazi Romances, have problematic writing of PoCs/queers, or ar in a scandal. And you're like, OK, ummm... why?

If they are constantly going on about it, but will not clean up their client list to think about why their roster is say, all white and straight, it's a pretty good sign they are either really incompetent at understanding diversity OR they are fishing.

Don't be desperate.

2. They keep asking you to repitch and "give them more angles." and give them more information and/or all your sources.

Fuck that. If they don't like your pitch, move on. If they want another angles and "more information" then move on. I had an editor do this to me, and then they refused to publish me suddenly when I thought I was working with them, and then they gave it to an Asian man who had an article up and then that person edited their article with *my* information I hard won. Fuck them. (I asked fellow writers to blackball them).

Don't let people fish you for what should be in your article. They either like it or they don't make them give you a contract first so they have to pay you for your ideas.

3. They ask you for the whole article without payment.

Don't work for free. They should like the pitch first.

4. They send unprofessional notes to you in the interim when you don't have a contract.

"I have a ___ friend" or "I have a friend who is ___" No. That's a strike. Move on. Contract first, write article later.

5. They keep asking you more and more questions, asking you to give everything to them.

I fell for this once and gave a writer my outline when I asked them to help me with my story, they STOLE the outline, waited until I was gone and then published the story. Was I PISSED yes beyond belief.

Did I get revenge? Not really, but I think their agent now knows the kind of person they are. Because they flushed out all of my diversity out of my story. But I hope to write it the way I would have written it, with the diversity all intact rather than flushed down the drain becaue they were an asshole.

And if you're reading this, you Asshole, you know who you are and what that idea meant to me and why I wanted to own it because we TALKED about that and you still did it.

If it's not relevant to your question, do not answer those questions. I know there is trusting and friendly, but you do not have to share.

Vampires and leeches do not have to exist. They need to gain their own confidence.

BTW, most people who have taken my ideas never really developed them further. And I'm like WTF is wrong with you? If it's about execution, you suck.

And I know people are going to roll out the red carpet on things like, "But everything is in the execution."

But I'm telling you, every idea I've had taken from me, with or without consent, the majority of them, don't really seem to DEVELOP the idea further than they should and play off of it, pick up the theming and develop it more. I've had some writers that did GREAT in this area, where they put in the time and research, but sometimes they just didn't do anything with what was written and just stuck what I'd written on the page without any development.

Which is to say, if you like an idea, and want to steal it--without consent--don't. You aren't likely to develop it well because it doesn't mean anything to you as a person. It's better to wait for them to publish and then you to publish on top, and if you are an editor or agent, at least work with the person before canning them like this. Whisper networks are there for a reason.

This isn't to say you can't ask people for help, but understand the basics of consent.

[theflyingfeeling]

Still bored, so here are some random BC fanfic ideas I've been playing with for a while but will never write due to a variety of reasons (so they are free to use!) ✨

~

1) Joel/Joonas with Joel being ace/aro and oblivious to Joonas being hopelessly in love with him (or maybe he does know but he just pretends he doesn't because he has no idea what to do about it). Bonus points if Joonas gets together / fools around with Niko and it works as a distraction quite nicely, until it doesn't (cue Niko being a good friend and calling it quits himself when he understands the true state of affairs and encouraging Joonas to do something or the very least tell Joel about his feelings, even if nothing would ever come out of it, because Joel deserves to know and, most of all, Joonas deserves to move on 😔)

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2) A massage therapist AU in which Joonas is a masseur and Tommi his client. Tommi gets an awkward surprise boner during a massage and Joonas is bold enough to mention that they do also offer, ummm, erotic massages as well, in case Tommi is interested 😏 It takes Tommi a few more visits (and awkward boners (because maybe he's also developing a crush on his nice-looking masseur)) until Tommi finally books a prostate massage, and oh my oh my! 💦 his whole world turns upside down as he comes untouched by Joonas' skilful hands 😳 He's hooked from the very first prostate orgasm of his life and becomes a regular, with 2-3 weekly sessions booked, and he gets excited about them in the morning already (maybe a little too excited, if you get the gist 😌), and maybe eventually he manages to ask Joonas out 💕 (also inluded in this AU: Olli/Allu as Joonas' co-workers who are also boyfriends/husbands and use each other's massage rooms for their personal "sessions" at the end of the workday, yes very unprofessional I know 🥰)

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3) Some sort of historical AU, with Olli as some kinda royalty or a nobleman or just a rich person in general, the rebel of his family however, having a secret fling with Aleksi the merchant's son. Cue lots and lots of flirting at the marketplace and passionate sex / rough fucking wherever and whenever, but tragically, Olli in this AU is also a bit of a fuckboy and manages to piss off Aleksi and/or make him jealous by acting unnecessarily touchy-feely with someone at the tavern. Aleksi gives him the silent treatment (picture him just silently working at his market stall ignoring Olli's flirting and his pleas). Heartbroken by this, Olli gets a little too drunk at the tavern and ends up in some kind of trouble from which Aleksi saves him (all the while sighing at his idiot boyfriend 🙄). The next morning in Aleksi's modest bedroom/house, Aleksi tries his best to maintain the cold shoulder attitude (because he is still kinda mad at Olli), but he fails horribly when Olli catches him staring and starts teasing him about it like the smug bastard he is 🥰 Also, an extremely important visual from this AU is Olli in a white, loose shirt whenever possible 🥵

~

4) A while back I was also thinking about another historical AU (because I looooooove historical AUs and period dramas 💖) about Niko being some kinda clergyman, a cantor perhaps, and Joonas a homeless person Niko made acquaintance with in the breadline, but sadly I can't remember too many details about this one 🤔 I guess Niko just starts doing a little extra to help out Joonas, and it's up for you to decide whether it's "helping him out" as in offering him food and maybe a roof above his head (secretly letting him stay overnight inside the church when the weather's too rough to sleep outdoors), or "helping him out" as in fucking him in the candlelit organ loft after the evening Mass 😌 Isn't the latter such a romantic image though? It's pitch black and stormy outside, the entire church is dark except for the candles they lit up on the organ loft, some old tapestry as their mattress (a holy relic, Niko later learns as he overhears the vicar and the sexton wonder about the strange stains on it 🤨), the sounds of their lovemaking echoing in the church... 🥺

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5) I can't remember the pairing for this next one 🤔 Joonas was the other but I can't remember who the other was, so I'll leave it up for you to decide or suggest who'd be the best match for Joonas in this! Anyhow, an AU in which Joonas and Person B are neighbours, acquaintances and maybe crushing on each other a little, but not properly friends or anything like that. Mostly when they talk to each other it's because of Joonas' cute fluffy dog which Person B loves petting (and while he's at it he may as well exchange a word or two with the fluffy-haired owner 🥰). Person B is a little lonely and these interactions mean the world to him, but he's too shy/intoverted to actually ask Joonas to hang out other than in the hallway or front yard of their apartment building. One day, Person B sees Joonas going in his apartment without the dog, which he finds unusual, and through the paper-thin walls he hears Joonas sob his heart out. Worried, Person B goes knocking on Joonas' door to see if he's alright, and he finds a heartbroken Joonas telling him the dog had fallen suddenly ill and had to be put down that morning 😭 Person B steps in to comfort Joonas through the night, and so their budding friendship begins to bloom and maybe eventually turn into something more 💕 (now that I typed this it sounds all a little familiar but I can't put my finger on it if I've actually read this in a fic before 🤔 so I'm sorry if I copied someone's idea, it was not my intention!)

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6) Okay this one I could write but won't because 1) I already wrote something similar, and 2) I don't want to portray Olli and Aleksi as some kinda horny and selfish cheaters, and if you don't want to even imagine that kind of things about them I suggest you stop reading now, and anyway PLEASE remember this is only fic talk, but ggghhghggghgaaaaahhhhggg I just can't stop imagining them hanging out in Aleksi's studio (late at night) and eventually one thing leads to another (wine may or may not be involved) and they end up kissing while Aleksi's spouse is upstairs 😭 maybe they even get interrupted by the spouse calling for them from outside the door or something and they'd sort of snap out of it and realise what they've done. Now there are a couple of the different scenarios for what could happen next (the 'evil' in this is the author):

neutral good: they realise they're in love with each other and peacefully break up with their spouses and live happily ever after 💞

chaotic good: they realise they're in love with each other and peacefully break up with their spouses who also somehow fall in love with each other (peer support turns into something more? 😌) and they ALL live happily ever after 🥰

chaotic neutral: they freak out and Olli immediately goes home (he lives nearby) and it's awkward for a while between them but eventually things go back to normal. They never speak about the kiss and pine for each other until the end of their days, never knowing if the other actually feels the same 💔

lawful evil: they freak out and Olli immdediately goes home and it's awkward for a while between them until it happens again and again and a couple of times more until they realise it's wrong and they should stop and then they pine for each other until the end of their days, fully aware the feeling is mutual 😭

neutral evil: they start fooling around behind their spouses' backs until they get caught by Aleksi's spouse (who, tbf, had began suspecting something by then; the amount of time they spent at the studio was getting a little to o suspicious). To make it extra evil, maybe the spouse doesn't even walk in on them but sees them through the window of Aleksi's studio and doesn't even do anything about it at first, deciding to give Aleksi multiple chances to spill it himself (as if that would change anything now the damage has already been done) 🫣

chaotic evil: Olli is staying at Aleksi's that night (he lives in Oulu) and they are forced to act normal while having dinner upstairs with Aleksi's spouse 💀

...thanks for reading 😇

[tobiasdrake]

So that's it. That's the truth of our case. We know who our killer is. In a way, we've known for a while. All that's left is to clinch it.

The deepest, darkest, and most tragic secret of this case. How did a murderer penetrate the inner lab?

The answer is, we wore Yakou like a hat. A hat made of knives. So, Kung Lao's hat. We wore Yakou like Kung Lao's hat.

Poor Halara. They're up there trying desperately to resuscitate Yakou but he's a) dying of incurable gas and b) about to get Soul Reaped anyway. I hope they don't blame themselves when it happens.

Fortunately, if all Fubuki did was crack the Panel Room with us unknowingly, she's off the hook and in no danger. Servan was more involved in Shachi's murder and the Labyrinth let him off with a stern glare.

Obviously Yakou. Also a part of me considered that the woman in question might be Yuma's mom but that's just because she has purple hair. I shouldn't make assumptions. Not everyone with purple hair is related to one another.

It's not even the right shade of purple. Though it could be tempered by Yakou's blue, maybe? Anime hair does that sometimes.

I'm way off base here. Moving on. Our killer is, beyond a shadow of a doubt....

So we can now say pretty confidently that Jawline is Fink the Slaughter Artist. But Fink never set foot in the lab. He was here to conceal the truth behind why Yakou is dead.

Probably to avoid blowback on the Master Detectives when their boss murdered Amaterasu's most important scientist. I said before that the stabbings seemed a) unprofessional and b) emotionally motivated. Both of those things make sense now.

Oh, that's why the photo was here. I figured he simply carried it around on him.

Did Jawline know that Yakou was his client? Or did Yakou wrestle the photo away from him during the struggle?

Sephiroth Vader has been defeated but Vivia's still going to defend Yakou from the cruel grip of the truth.

I'm sure Yakou sincerely meant that. Emotionally motivated. But it was also part of the ruse to disguise the crime as a professional hit. It ensured everyone would be looking at FInk, not Nocturnal Detective Agency, when the smoke settled.

At least, in theory. Didn't work out so well for us in practice.

Or that. I was right on the ball when I said it's weird that Fink would send us a note, and makes more sense if Yakou sent it to us himself.

That also covers his OOC behavior when he's suddenly gung-ho to rescue some dipshit Amaterasu scientist after weeks of telling everyone to lay low and keep our heads down.

In fact, a paranoid part of me wonders if this was the plan from the start. If Yakou was discouraging us from making waves because he didn't want us getting our jolly asses killed by the Peacekeepers before he had a chance to finalize this plan.

To disguise the truth, is what I've been going with. Let's see what Yuma says.

Nobody would think twice about four new corpo-cops suddenly patrolling the halls if everyone's running around trying to thwart Jawline. That makes sense. So it wasn't about protecting us.

That makes my heart sad. :(

That's when he went to the airlock. He didn't go the other direction; He used his lead to get there first.

Jawline was the only person who could have been responsible for the blackout. But since we now know that Jawline isn't complicit in the lab intrusion, it makes more sense. The blackout was part of the plan to kill Yakou, per Yakou's instructions.

For Yakou, it gave him a cover story. "Oh no, a blackout, we need to hurry up and get Huesca out of there before the killer gets him through all that non-powered security!" was what he used to separate from us and instill in us the urgency we used to crack the Most Locked-est Room Ever.

This is why the blackout was the most inscrutable piece of the puzzle. It couldn't open doors or disable Huesca's security. If anything, it made doors more locked until backup power switched on and it didn't matter anymore. It couldn't do fucking anything. There was no practical reason for it. It contributed nothing to this plan.

The reason it was useless is because it's a placebo. It was an empty threat designed to instill in us a sense of urgency and get us moving. Yakou used the blackout to get us in gear and push us towards our steps of the plan.

Yakou spent a long time working on this. It's super premeditated. And reliant on insider knowledge of Amaterasu's classified lab. Photo Lady had to have worked there. Maybe the second desk in that office was Yakou's?

Yakou put his faith in us to ferry him to Huesca. We did not disappoint him.

Y'know, it's weird but I'm proud of that. I mean, a man is dead but fuck 'im. Huesca's far from a sympathetic victim. I know that and I don't even have the full details on Yakou's motive. I know enough to know Huesca got what he had coming for him.

We did this, y'all. We worked together to make this happen. This isn't Yakou's victim. It's all of our victim.

Yuma's sitting here wrestling with the awful truth, trying not to crumble under the pressure of his world shattering. But I'm over here respecting Yakou more than I have since the day we met him. You did it, man. You beat Amaterasu's highest possible security in the bowels of their HQ and pulled off the crime of the century.

And since the plan called for him to die triumphantly anyway, a legitimate argument could be made that he unknowingly beat Shinigami too while he was at it. Yeah, go ahead and reap his soul. Take the last 45 seconds of his life from him. Not like it fucking matters anyway. He's already won.

Murderer Yakou is infinity times cooler than Detective Yakou ever was! Holy shit, where was this guy in all of our hangouts!?

More than anything, Yakou wanted nobody to know why he did this. Even after his death. I'd thought he was trying to protect the agency but it feels like this goes deeper than that.

I want to say he wanted to discourage us for our own emotional wellbeing but my guy was about to slit Yuma's throat before Ghost Yakou intervened. So. Yeah. This was definitely more about protecting Yakou than anything else.

He wanted to do both if he could help it but if push came to shove, he was ready to kill Yuma to defend Yakou's reputation. It was only Yakou saying outright, "Do not do that thing," that convinced him otherwise.

And. Yeah. We talked about this before but. Like. We're in this mess because the Peacekeepers decided apropos of nothing that we dunit.

Well guess what, fuckos! We did dunit. A stopped clock is right twice a day. Yomi's equation is belligerent nonsense but his result isn't wrong. If anything, the truth makes our situation worse. We have accomplished nothing by learning all of this.

As much as Vivia doesn't outwardly show much of his feelings, he believed in Yakou. He liked working here and he liked Yakou enough to trust Yakou implicity. He doesn't know why Yakou did this, but he also doesn't care. It doesn't matter. He stands behind it, whatever the purpose.

I don't have that same kind of respect for Yakou but I do find myself nonetheless in the same boat as Vivia. I don't know why Yakou did this, but I've seen enough - both of him and of Huesca - to believe he had the right of it.

The grave-dancing Robot Researcher was right.

[meret118]

I thought this week's Project Runway challenge of designing new uniforms for the crew on Bravos's Below Decks would be boring. It's actually interesting because the designers have lost their damn minds.

I've never watched BD, but AFAIK it's a reality show about the crew of a yacht that is rented by people to take trips to, from what little I've seen, warm weather destinations. It's a TV show, but about a real(?) working crew so the designs have to be practical as well as stylish.

Bishme's client tells her she's always hot so he decides to put her in neoprene. For those not familiar with the fabric, it's a synthetic rubber material that does not breathe. It's literally what wetsuits are made of, and is intended to keep body heat in. I actually love the way his design looks, but the absurd fabric choice ruined it for me.

Laurence is making her outfit out of leather and wool. For working on a ship. In hot weather.

Prajjé is using a black and white print that looks like lace, and his design has a peplum. It's looks very dated and cheap to me. I think it's unprofessional, and not remotely something a captain would wear.

Kara Saun's looks like a shiny, glittery Versace or Gucci outfit for hitting the town in. It also looks like he would burn up in it.

I kept wondering where I had seen Anna's design before, and finally realized it reminded me of what Johnny Lawrence wore in The Karate Kid climax, but with epaulettes stuck on it. Again it's unprofessional looking for the job, (His uniform normally includes a tie.) and not appropriate for a captain. She wants to bring in her Chinese culture which is great, but this is not the way to do it. Plus, I don't exactly think silk and salt water is a very good combination.

Brittany's is my favorite by far. Her design is stylish, modern, professional, yet very practical for his job as chief engineer. It's white top-stitching on black fabric, with lots of pockets, and a flattering fit.

Did the designers go out drinking a lot on other seasons? If so I don't remember it. I remember them exhaustedly going back to their hotel at night to sleep.

Did Anna cheat on her husband? She says, "I'm divorced for two days. I want to party with you more." I interpreted that to mean she was considering herself divorced for the two day challenge, later she says she's married and nothing happened.

But it looked like she left with the guy to me. Did I see that right? I didn't think they were allowed to go off like that though. Surely they wouldn't let that happen if for no other reason than the fact she had been drinking. She was talking and walking fine, but she did have four shots of tequila apparently pretty quickly, and other designers commented on her drinking. To me that's a lot, but I rarely drink and have the alcohol tolerance of a fruitfly so maybe I'm wrong.

Anna and Prajjé were the worst IMO. I've never been a fan of Anna's designs, but Prajjé can be great. I would send Anna home, and make Brittany the winner.

I can't find pictures of the designs online to include unfortunately.

[royallymagpied]

It is between you and me

Submitted into Contest #75 in response to: Write about someone whose job is to help people leave their old lives behind.

How does it feel to be the never-ending flavor of the month, to be on top every year? To be everyone`s dark shameful secret, promising not just pleasure but possibilities; to linger, to echo, to land on somebody`s moist lips jumping to an eager ear, worm inside and curl, purring, in the trembling jelly of a brain, growing into a tumor of a thought there, a thought evolving into desire? My secret is that the very essence of me crawls under your skin and makes its nest around your beating heart poisoning it with stinging snake kisses. I make all of you my home, my castle, my fortress, my birth place and my dying bed. I turn you into a tomb bearing me inside forever.

Some falsely claim that they have discovered my true identity of a spider and though the idea of me having those funny hairy paws with claws is ridiculously amusing, it is entirely wrong. I strangle you gently with my silky threads but you are not a victim trapped by my greed, you are an active and willing participant joining me in my little games. Rejoice, brothers and sisters, for I am not an enemy, I am your loving savior. 

When I was a boy, I found lots of pleasure in imitating others, forging and lying. Poor souls, how little they knew, subjecting my ink-stained fingers to a punishment with a crooked ruler. Did you really think I was afraid of pain and could surrender to its burn? Could you weed out all the venomous twigs and recreate the garden of Eden? I shape shifted, I slipped through your fingers like hot Moroccan sand, leaving just a hint of exotic scents. You could not tame your poor, ordinary children, how could you tame the devil? The creature hiding in plain sight? 

The creature, the devil, and finally God. The promise is given, the lips are sealed. 

God. 

What is God for? God is the one who listens to prayers and answers them. I always answer, I’m not picky. I inhabit neither churches, nor cathedrals. I live on the receiving end of a phone call, one business card and a few beeps away. Is that my voice? Have you ever heard God? Then why are you asking? A secretary will take your details and full payment - non refundable, I am sorry, but this is the rule. I do not care about the vulgar economics, it is merely a question of dignity. Besides, people give more value and attention to things they had to pay a lot for and I respect myself and my time.

So I guess you are wondering what is that thing that I do so gracefully? It is a funny thing to ask God, but I will tell you. I am the one who can drag you out of the colorless dullness of your insignificant life and give you another chance. Yes, this is magic, but I can do it. No need to try to follow, you can not make fire lick your hands with tenderness and the ocean to rock you to sleep safely.

Some time ago I had a rich client. To be frank with you, I would never shake his hand, I would never stoop so low. He was a disgusting, greedy piece of highly unprofessional work. So he came to me, ready to kneel and crawl, and kiss my feet. A famous actor, he killed his young lover. A total accident, of course. He wanted to fake his death and start a new life in South America where he could go on sinning free from any legal consequences. It is tough to be God so I had to agree. It took me some time to arrange his alibi, to have photographs doctored, bank statements falsified. It amazes me how much people love money. Give them enough and they will sell themselves out to the very last cell of their bodies. So I had my client networking at parties all over the world and later going to an Italian villa which burned down one night. Nobody survived. A total accident, of course. Oh, what a fire that was! A burning torch amongst the tall cypresses`, dark silhouettes against the raging fiery background. A few more crisp bank notes and a few pennies and I had the forensic papers falsified as well. I even went to his funeral and brought some white tulips - a nice subtle touch as white tulips mean rebirth. I went incognito, as you could guess. I do not like fuss. Some cash and a few hours with the best plastic surgeon paved the way to a private jet for my client and I, being my modest self, treated myself to a nice dinner at the Ritz and some nice expensive Pinot Noir. We live once, after all. 

But even God gets questioned. Just as I was working on my next case, that man came again. The one who cheated on me and called my eyes the black windows of a dead house. The one who thought I was the deadly stillness of a white forest, its killing beauty, its poisonous lullaby. 

"I know it’s your work, you promised." 

Oh, people. "To die, to sleep…" Don’t confuse death with sleep. In death you lose yourself, giving in to the endless ocean of space. Sleep is still you, your brain sending electric impulses through the body, questioning the existence of your soul, rebelling, arguing. Death is absolute, death is disintegration. I am above that. I do not play by the book. 

"Stop it, you promised."

I have a modern Blue Beard, another rich creature, this time an American. He marries rich women, gaslights and humiliates them, casting a merciful blessing of death upon their exhausted souls in the end. He is looking for a new bride and a way to get rid of the old one, deformed by numerous plastic surgeries done to appease his insatiable appetites. An appalling type. No poetry, no beauty. A butcher. He says he loves them. Every single one is the greatest wonder. My man loved me as well. He told me so but he lied. He left me. Does it equal me with those poor ladies pumped with silicone longing for love, waiting for the knight in shining armor?..

Love is overrated. It`s just words, pulling the strings of overworked hearts loaded with cholesterin aimed for selling soapy novels to make some graphomaniacs rich. I need a stand in, a bait to hook up with my Blue Beard but this time I am going to hit the last nail in my lover`s coffin, to alter his life forever. I will send him a message – "Marry me" carved deeply into my client`s chest.

"Life is whatever happens between you and me."

[sadlittleratboy]

So a coworker and I got into it yesterday. She was very much at fault (I definitely should have walked away, but she started the argument, and it was over her not doing her job) and insulted me as well as then texted the work gc after everything was over and threatened to get HR involved if I was ever unprofessional with her again. Our supervisor then texted the gc basically saying that it was ridiculous, and that the exchange needed to stop (I had not spoken to her since we got into it because I hadn't needed to and it wouldn't have helped anything) and she answered back "I agree" like...who are you talking to?

She was incredibly unprofessional with me, and more than one person had already said so. I was actually very professional with her, even though I was angry (I definitely sounded angry, and I was probably getting a bit louder because that's what I do when I'm super fucking mad, but I didn't say the words "don't worry your pretty little head about it, it's not your problem" sooooo), and I was literally only mad at her because she was putting our overworked supervisor in a place where she would have to do this for her, as well as treating a client like shit. We have a history of really not liking each other, but I have always tried to be professional anytime we've had to speak to each other (I have failed a few times for sure, but never insulted her, which took serious will power), and she has continued to become more passive aggressive and outright rude to me. This is not the first time she has tried to shame me publicly in the work group chat, and last time it was over me not telling her something that I literally told her twice, and it wasn't even my job to tell her that.

Well, my supervisor typed up an email that basically said the work group chat is for work things, personal matters are to be kept between the two people or taken to her. Directly after that my coworker requested a meeting with HR, so me and several other people who saw at least part of the exchange get to type up incident reports. My supervisor is 100% with me. HR tried to get her to meet with them immediately and she said no, and told them that she would not meet with anyone until all of the documentation were in. She sent both of the screenshots to HR and her own recounting of the events. I'm really the only one that knows exactly what happened, but everyone knows that I wasn't The Problem, and while I don't know if I'll end up having to get written up (doubtful) my supervisor definitely doesn't want that to be the case and she flat out said that she's already refused to fire me no matter what happens.

When this HR conversation doesn't go her way, my coworker is probably going to quit, thank God.

[percontaion-points]

Client No 5 chapters 3 & 4

This book review contains discussions of SW; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions 

Chapter 3

He’d treated me as if I was a person, not a vagina, and yet he paid me like a whore. 

I’m confused about this. She’s angry that he’s treating her with respect? And that he paid her like 3x more than the agreed upon price?

… at least the high-end escort business that I was in.

So in the previous chapter, she’d said that she looked like a trashy hooker. 

Either she’s trashy-looking, or she’s a high-end escort. I’m not sure that you can have these two things at the same time. 

I wasn’t deluded enough to think that I could do this work forever. Prostitution was hugely based on looks, at least the high-end escort business that I was in. No drugs, no violence. Just sex. In fifteen or twenty years I’d be out of work, and I planned to make sure that I was well set up by then. I paid my bills, I bought what I needed for work, and I skimped on everything else. All the extra cash I earned went into investments that would eventually buy me an apartment. Rent was killer in New York, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to afford it when I wasn’t working. 

Except that it’s pretty well-known that a high end escort’s plan to get out from under guys is to become a madam and start being in charge of other girls. 

Todd always took a “test drive” of the new girls before he hired them. He said he needed to know what he was selling, and it’s his job to make sure his girls are of high quality. Yeah, he really hated his work.

Not only gross but also highly unprofessional. 

Ally claims that this is a high-end escort service, yet Todd is acting like he’s one bitch-slap away from being a drug-dealing pimp. With the fur coat and cane. 

He wasn’t willing to test out the new guy, though.

He should, though. He has to go all the way to prove to his customers that the new guy is good!

What guy wouldn’t be overjoyed at having a live sex show on his own bed?

You can tell that this was written by somebody who thinks that working around sex 24/7 is always going to be titillating. 

I am going to scream if Todd starts jerking off as he watches Ally and Adam bang. 

I rolled my head to the side and saw that Todd had given up any pretense of being professional. He had his cock out and was rubbing it slowly, eyes glued on my swaying tits.

[...]

A glance over at our audience made me laugh. Todd wasn’t even watching us anymore—his eyes were closed as Jamie sucked his dick. He thrust hard into her mouth, adding added to my arousal.

What a disgusting pig. 

And as much as I hated it, there was a part of me that was sad I wouldn’t see Scott Walker again.

Chapter 3 summary: Ally accidentally fell asleep, which she never does because it’s unprofessional. She woke up to Scott gone, but he’d left her a note and a lot more money than agreed upon. 

On her way home, Ally’s brother, Zach, calls her up and asks her to come over. She tells the reader that Zach and Todd are BFFs, but somehow, Zach doesn’t know what Ally does for a living. She continues on and explains to the reader about how being a SWer is obviously not a life-time job, that she needs to tap out at some point. So she’s living like a pauper while saving every single thing. And that 5k that Scott left her will go a long way in her savings. 

She goes to Todd’s and Zach’s apartment, where she gives Todd his cut from her first four clients. He also briefly asks about Scott, and says that he’s Todd’s cousin. Ally gets angry, because she obviously doesn’t want to be banging anybody that could connect her to her actual identity. Todd then agrees that he should hire a new girl, and also bring a gigolo into the fold. 

Later, Todd texted Ally if she’d come over and test out a new guy he’d hired. Ally’s roommate, Jamie, also a SWer under Todd, wants to come over and watch this. So they go over to Todd’s apartment, where they meet Adam. Adam is a little green around the ears, so Ally has to give him a tiny bit of a pep-talk before he goes down on her, and has to explain stuff to him like “always wear a condom. No matter what the woman says. You don’t want to suffer the consequences.” Jamie and Todd stand and watch, but then start going at it. 

But he makes her cum, and thus earns himself an approval from Ally. But Ally can’t help but think that Adam isn’t half as good as Scott had been. 

Chapter 4

He liked to pretend to be a horse and have girls treat him as such. Apparently the girls at NYU didn’t find this particular fetish sexy, so he was forced to outsource. 

Has he tried the brony community?

“He’s under the spell of your puss, and I can’t blame the poor guy. Just do it.” 

I know what was meant here, but when I see “puss”, my brain thinks “pus”. Which… gross. 

The cool water soaked my hot skin as I broke the surface, sending a shiver through me. It was bliss.

Chapter 4 summary: Ally meets up with Zach later to go visit their parents. On the ride over, he asks Ally if she’s dating Todd, and says that Todd is bad business. Despite the fact that Zach lives with the guy and is apparently his best friend. 

Later, Ally sees a 19 year old client who is really into pony play, but outsources his enjoyment because no other girls seem to be into it. Ally then decides he’s getting too attached to her, and decides to send him to another girl later. 

On her way out of the hotel, the front desk clerk asks Ally if she’s really a SWer, and how she can get into the business. Since Todd had mentioned taking on a new girl, she agrees to meet up with Amy for lunch later that week and answer any of the girl’s questions. 

She goes home, only to find Adam and Jamie fucking. She hides in her room until they finish and Adam leaves. Jamie tells her to call Todd, which she does. Todd wants to book her all night for Scott, which is really against Ally’s rules. But Todd literally threatens to withhold clients from her until she agrees, so she does. 

Later, Ally and Jamie go to the gym, where too much time is spent showing them working out. In the sauna, Jamie asks that since Ally clearly hates men so much, she should switch teams. Ally says no, and then goes for a swim. 

[sharkbatez]

Random rant. I just want to vent. Because FUCKING FUCK YUDIPUTA KAG TUNGA GAGO

I was job hunting for some time this month and, obviously when you’re job hunting, you apply to a lot of job openings (because more than half of them aren't even fucking real). It just so happens I “accepted” a position with this design company on Wednesday. I didn’t verbally accept it. I went through a three-hour test and after that I was told I was hired and would start the next day. I did not say I accepted the job. I didn't even get a word in. But I was told to start the next day.

That’s not a good deal for me. I may have been unemployed but I’ve worked in toxic environments before to know that that’s a massive red flag. I just replied “that’s great news” and followed it up with questions about workload, about the work schedule, about what the flying fuck am I supposed to do just to protect myself a little bit more. No answer.

The next day, about halfway through "my shift", this dude replies and tells me to create accounts and emails and log-ins and do all of this. Okay, cool. Then it was a horrendous experience. No onboarding process. Not even a discussion of where I’m going to get my tasks, who I’m supposed to talk to for concerns, not the conversation about the pay schedule and whatnot. You know, just the most basic of things to know I'm not being scammed.

So, I worked for a day and was miserable throughout. Then I got an email with a much better offer from a client I’ve worked with in the past. So, of course I’ll take that. So, I informed the dude of such things. Never even asked for compensation for the one day of free labor. Then his bitchass says he reported me to the job site to make it harder for me to find another job in the future.

I feel like he’s lying because he doesn’t even have time to make a proper job listing, conduct a simple interview and have a decent onboarding process. Why bother reporting some random freelancer? I’m just pissed because this bitchass "white savior startup CEO" decided he could just ruin some random freelancer from a third fucking world country despite how unprofessional he has been throughout the "hiring process". In just one day, I saw how toxic the work culture was, of his employees not staying with him, not even doing their fucking jobs and then him taking away their vacation leaves to catch up with backlogs his dumbass didn't "expect during the holidays". Like, my dude, what did you expect your customers were going to do during an entire week of not having to go to their own jobs?

But anyway, my chances of finding decent jobs might have been completely tanked because some white man-child threw a tantrum because he couldn't even comprehend the complexities of his own company. He'll still make millions though.

[kyglow]

rome the personally hired cleaner had grown curious when he had accidentally managed to stumble across something which was not meant for his eyes while he was in the middle of cleaning. to be honest he was shocked knowing he should simply look away and leave the private room urgently yet his mind was scattered and rather amused feeling mischievous convincing himself he would peruse and linger around the restricted area a little longer while his lips were spread into a cheeky grin. suddenly caught off guard by his client's voice panic would set in immediately. turning around as he had a look of surprise and guilt when he saw her standing there by the entryway of the room however the most peculiar thing was she didn't seem to be screaming or yelling in a fit of outrage.

anxious he nervously smiled and shrugged his shoulders. " uh i mean - - " he stammered side eyeing one of the items on display a large thick c.ock attached to a strap-on. " - - not really i am just taken aback by all of this. the chains, wrist ankle cuffs and the clamps are cool though. " he scoffed. " i never knew you had a kinky side, miss bernhart. must explain why you're so hard on me " he teased as he was being direct and open yet unprofessional when he was being honest instead of apologising. he clasped his hands together when eyes locked with her own his broad shoulders would sink. " it was an accident. i was vacuuming and wiping everything down and then i thought this was your study so i walked in and yeah. " he explained although he wasn't confident in his voice growing slightly worried that his job could be on the line. " please don't tell my boss. i really don't want to get fired, i mean i'll pretend i never saw anything. " pleading with her as he let out a small sigh there was a sliver of panic to which he then swallowed.

DON’T LIKE MY STARTERS, PLEASE muse: yvette bernhart. in her 50s. ceo of kinky dating app. plot: yvette catches y/m in her bdsm room looking rather interested. yvette is a switch, so both dominant and submissive muses are welcome! open to: any gender - age gaps are fine, 25+ years of age - trans muses welcome - no taboo! / date, best friend's offspring, offspring's best friend, personal assistant, cleaner/maid, best friend, friend, neighbor, etc.

yvette had to push down a gasp when she noticed that the door to her private room was ajar. she could have sworn that she had locked it - fuck. she walked up to the door to do just that when she noticed the lights were on and someone was inside. oh, them. panic rose in her chest, thinking that they may find it odd or judge her for all the sex furniture and toys... but it appeared that the other looked rather... intrigued. so, she decided to face this head on using that to her advantage. she stood up straight and schooled her features into a smirk - seemingly confident. "does that interest you, hmm?" she asked, as the other still had their back turned to her and she placed her hand on her hip, cocking an eyebrow. "i can't recall i allowed you to roam freely tonight." she jokingly said.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Twin Flame - Chapter 2: "The 1"

"And if my wishes came true, it would've been you..."

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes Part of The Grumpy x Sunshine Universe

Bucky POV

“So Mr. Barnes, are you still having nightmares?” Bucky remains silent, pensively staring at the wall. Dr. Raynor speaks a little louder this time, finally catching Bucky's attention, “James, I asked you a question: Are you still having nightmares?”

“No.”

“We’ve been doing this long enough that I can tell when you’re lying," Dr. Raynor lightly scolds, examining the super soldier as he sits in the couch opposite her. He looks tired, exhausted even, and definitely more agitated than normal. "And, well, you seem a little off today. Did something happen recently?”

”No.”

This time he tells the truth. Nothing really happens anymore. His phone doesn’t ding with texts that he wouldn’t respond to either way. He’s accepted the silence. He welcomes it. Except for his amends, he's alone. And he's found a certain contentment with the loneliness. 

“You’re a civilian now. With your history, the government needs to know that you’re not gonna…” Dr. Raynor trails off, raising her first in insinuation. She drops her hand, giving Bucky an urging expression. “It’s a condition of your pardon. So, tell me about your most recent nightmare.”

“I didn’t have a nightmare,” he dryly insists. 

Dr. Raynor sighs in defeat, her eyes flicker up to Bucky’s stoic, unimpressed expression. "Did something happen? Have you talked to anyone?"

He shrugs, slightly raising his eyebrows.

"Let me see your phone," Dr. Raynor states, a firm finality in her tone that leaves Bucky no room to argue. 

A huff of annoyance leaves his mouth, reluctantly pulling the phone from his pocket to hand to Dr. Raynor.

She flips open the phone, tilting her head at Bucky in mild disappointment.

"You don't even have ten numbers on this thing, and I'm the only person you've called all week. That is so sad." She looks up from the screen to look at Bucky and the stone-faced expression still on his face, seemingly unaffected by anything she’s saying. "You're alone. You're a hundred years old, you have no family, no history-"

"Are you lashing out at me, Doc?" Bucky wryly retorts. "Because that's really unprofessional. I mean, when did that start with your clients-"

"You've ignored all texts from Sam. And let's not talk about Sunshine? I'm going to assume that's a nickname." This time Bucky unintentionally remains silent. Dr. Raynor notes the way Bucky's jaw ticks, clenching from the bittersweet memory of your short-lived emergence in his life. A tie that he himself cut without so much as a goodbye.

And though he really wishes that she wouldn't prod at the emotional wound, he's not naive enough to think she wouldn't to finally put a crack in Bucky's stoic, unchanging expression. 

And he has to commend her, because it's a very effective strategy.

His first curls in as she looks at the screen, reading aloud each unanswered message from you. Each text he can almost hear in your voice. He can almost picture the way your mouth would twist in disappointment as you realized he was never going to respond.

Each text read aloud just adds more salt in the wound. 

"I just wanna know if you're okay."

"Are we okay?"

"In case you see this, I miss you."

"Is that weird? Doesn't matter, it's the truth."

"I think I'm going to go with Sam to Louisiana."

"I don't think there's much left for me in New York."

"I'm leaving today."

"The sky's really blue here."

"If you see this, could you maybe tell me? No pressure."

"Okay, I think I should stop texting you now."

"Really hope that I haven't been texting a random trucker or something."

"Not that there's anything wrong with being a trucker, but you get what I mean. I think?"

"Okay, for real this time, if you don't respond I won't bother you anymore."

"Goodbye."

He's tempted to breathe a sigh of relief when Dr. Raynor finally finishes the chain of unanswered text messages. He keeps it to himself. He deserved to set that tight, burning sensation linger in his throat, constricting his airways and making his chest feel a million pounds heavier.

There was no point in psycho-analyzing it, it was done. You'd received his message loud and clear.

"You never even called her back, James. That's really awful," Dr. Raynor states like she's really trying to make him feel like an ever bigger asshole than he already felt like.

And he still remains silent.

Because, to him, there was nothing to say. He made his bed, now all there was to do was lie in his self-imposed exile.

It was better this way. He just needed to keep reminding himself of that. 

It was better this way. 

He only breaks the silence when Dr. Raynor scoffs and pulls out her small notepad. The loud clicking of her pen pulls Bucky out of his reverie this time. With an eye roll, he remarks, "Oh, the notebook thing, great. You know, that's really passive aggressive."

"You don't talk, I write," she reminds him, a slight smile on her face that annoys Bucky just even more. 

"And what would you like me to say?" he asks. 

“Why didn’t you respond?” she bluntly questions, setting the notebook down back down in her lap.

“There was nothing to say,” he dryly replies. She shakes her head, sighs, and picks up the notebook again. Before she can click the pen again, he interrupts, "Alright!"

"Good," Dr. Raynor starts. "Tell me about the nightmare."

"I didn't have a nightmare."

"Then tell me about the nickname."

His shoulders stiffen slightly. He can't remember the last time he willfully thought about you. Or the last time this particular emotional wound had been prodded in such rapid succession. Sometimes it crept up on him, little flashes, a kaleidoscope of memories. Most of his time was spent trying not to think about any of it. That was his goal most days: to repress and let go. He just hadn't figured that part out yet. And when he was being really honest about it, there was an even bigger part that didn't want to let it go. "What about it?"

"Did you give her the nickname?"

"No. Steve did," Bucky answers easily. 

"But you still use it?" Dr. Raynor correctly assumes. 

"Clearly."

"Why?"

"It's a nickname, Doc," Bucky defensively responds, clearly getting even more agitated as this line of questioning goes on. "Not much else to say."

"You clearly think it's appropriate. Or you wouldn't be using it."

"It is appropriate," Bucky admits. "But I'm not the one that gave it to her."

"Why is it appropriate?"

He thinks back to when Steve first explained it to him. He barely knew you. And he thought it was a bit of a ridiculous nickname for an adult woman, but Steve was adamant that it suited you perfectly.

-

"Sunshine," Steve calls, waving you over.

"Sunshine?" Bucky repeats, a slight disdain and question in his words. 

Steve dismissively shrugs. "It suits her."

"It's a ridiculous nickname," Bucky disagrees. 

You're in the middle of a conversation with Sam on the other side of the jet, you hold out your finger to Steve and Bucky telling them to give you a minute. 

"It just works. She's such a warm person. A freaking goofball. Especially after everything she's gone through, it suits her," Steve repeats. 

"Everything she's gone through?" Bucky cautiously questions. 

"That's a story for a different day, Buck."

Before Bucky can probe anymore, you make your way over to the two of them. 

"How can I help my Star Spangled friend and - " you stop, clicking your teeth together as you look at Bucky for a moment too long. You narrow your eyes at Bucky, rocking back and forth on your heels. For a second, he thinks you're scared, hesitant because he did just try to kill you only a few days ago. "Nope, sorry, I don't have a nickname for you yet."

Bucky's eyebrows furrow and in spite of his best efforts, a small chuckle bubbles out of his mouth.

"Told you, Sunshine," Steve repeats, a warm smile on his face. 

"It's a ridiculous nickname," you playfully complain, taking a seat in between the two super soldiers. As the words leave your mouth, you lightly punch Steve's arm. "I've told you that a million times."

"You love it," Steve scoffs, throwing his heavy arm around your shoulders.

From underneath Steve's arm, you look up at Bucky with a wide grin, "Don't listen to him, it's ridiculous."

-

"She's a warm person, all right," Bucky finally responds, still a touch too defensive to not be noticed by Dr. Raynor. "Bright, smiley, a freakin' goofball. But she's warm, everything about her."

Dr. Raynor sympathetically exhales, placing the notepad and pen on the small table beside her. "One day, you're going to have to open up and realize that some people really do want to help you, to be there for you, and that they can be trusted."

"I trust people," Bucky argues.

"So why didn't you pick up the phone?"

There were a lot of reasons, so he decides on giving her the easiest response to articulate, "Because she's warm. So freaking warm."

Next Chapter

The Twin Flame Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

[jenomark]

➔Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut ➔Warnings: Oral (F+M) + Penetration (F) + Cursing ➔Word count: 3,659

➔Summary: Two realtors who play together, stay together. Whenever you and Jaehyun work together, you make a little bit of a mess in the homes you're trying to sell for your clients. After all, no one ever said you couldn't have a little fun on the job.

“Your boyfriend is so charming.”

You were showing a married couple around a brand new house, built in a neighborhood they most likely could not afford. While the husband was checking out how the door handles jiggled on every door in the place, his wife leaned in close to your ear, her voice deeper than the fake customer service voice she had in the beginning of the tour.

You could hear the accusatory tone, her words felt through every layer of your reserve, “How did you get a man like that?”

If she could have circled around you, like a huntress ready to take her prey out, she would have taken the chance. You held your ground, so used to the way women acted around Jaehyun. But there was a certain amount of fun to be had when you were bored and waiting, your day's work blemished by couples who believed they were hot shit.

“Just between me and you,” you purred, leaning in closer to her and stroking her arm with your finger. “He’s not my boyfriend. We just like to fuck each other at work."

You never blamed any of the women for looking at Jaehyun like he was a prized hog in a show. He was handsome on the outside, his face so valentine sweet, his smile disarming even the most hardened of ladies. He wore a tailored suit nicely, too, which made the effect that much cavity-inducing. On the inside, though, he was a filthy, filthy man, and he would never go for someone like the wife, as much as she wanted him to.

No, Jaehyun wasn’t your boyfriend. Jaehyun wasn’t even your partner. He came to the house dressed up in the part of a wholesome realtor, his eyes following the wife across the room, forcing eye contact that would make her feel warm underneath her collared blouse. He did it because it was fun for him. He did it because he could.

It was a game. Jaehyun eye-fucked the wife to tease you. He liked when you wore jealousy like a proud bib. He waited for you to take possession of him, which you always did in the subtlest of ways. Watching the wife back away from you after claiming that you and Jaehyun fucked- a tale met with disbelief- was a way to piss all over your territory.

That's mine.

Of course, you could have pushed Jaehyun harder. In doing so, the husband of the pair was a viable conquest. He looked at you with his dumb look when you ran your hand up your stockinged thigh, his jaw slack as you hiked up your skirt inappropriately and unprofessionally high.

However, it wasn’t very fun for you. You could tell the husband was too in love with his wife to ever flirt with you. You gave up quickly, your annoyance waving like a red flag whenever the wife breathed in your direction.

“Are you almost done, sweetie?” you called out to Jaehyun.

“Yes, sweetheart.” Jaehyun said, sticking his head out of a doorway.

You shot a look at the wife, her full attention on Jaehyun as he walked towards you both. She might as well have started taking off her clothes where she stood. She was fanning herself with her hand and wiping sweat from between her cleavage, the telling signs of someone who really wanted to know Jaehyun's cock felt like.

“Your husband is insisting on checking every nook and cranny of this place.” Jaehyun said, a brilliant smile stretched across his face. “I keep telling him there is no need. You won't find a place like this in the city.”

“I’m sorry for his behavior.” the wife said. “He does this all of the time. Nothing is ever good enough for him.”

“I can’t blame him.” Jaehyun said, his eyes roaming down the legs of the wife. “We men love being thorough.”

You slapped a hand against Jaehyun’s chest and tugged on his tie, hoping it would tighten against his throat. “We should get going soon, don’t you think, Jaehyun?”

“Oh, I think we can spare a few minutes, baby.”

The wife was completely ignoring the fact that you were in the room. She took a step towards Jaehyun, batting her eyelashes and pushing out her sweaty breasts. Jaehyun ate up the attention, his eyes practically fucking her right in front of you.

“You are absolutely shameless.” you said, walking away.

You walked through the fully furnished and staged home, finding the husband in the downstairs bathroom (one of three in the house). He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t really your type. Still, he gave you the attention that made it easy for you to ignore all of that. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

“Like what you see?” you asked, moving one leg out in front of you so that your skirt rode up. “With the house, I mean.”

“Yeah.” he said. “Might be out of our price range. I'll have to check.”

You walked further into the bathroom, your heels click-clacking on the tile. It took only a few seconds for Jaehyun to find you, like it was a mating call, appearing in the bathroom doorway looking relaxed and ready to fuck. You knew the wife was soon to follow, a look of disappointment on her face that Jaehyun didn’t stick around to flirt with her.

You often wondered what women were thinking when caught with alone time involving Jaehyun. Were they imagining him bending them over the kitchen sink and fucking them? Did they think they were special, that he would sneak away from his dull job for an illicit affair with them? You could be sure that they were mentally undressing him, that they were not at all in tune to the fact that Jaehyun, in the end, only had eyes for you.

“If my girl here hasn’t sold you on the house, we would be delighted to show you to others on another date and time.” Jaehyun suggested.

Jaehyun’s words were final. He wanted them to leave immediately, to take their shit and go. You could hear the sour puss in his voice, the slight quiver in sound. He threw his arm around the wife and brought her closer to him. He let a smile consume him, one that made you grit your teeth. The four of you walked out of the bathroom quarters together, back to the open plan living room to discuss things further.

“You smell wonderful.” Jaehyun murmured to the wife of the pair. He let her go. “Anyway, the price isn't negotiable, but we’ll see what we can do if it’s what you really want. You may have to extend your budget further. If not, there are always others, like I said.”

The wife and husband agreed that the house would never be in their budget before leaving. The husband checked out your tits, and the wife cast one last longing look at Jaehyun over her shoulder, her pink tongue sensually gliding along her lower lip. With a serene smile, Jaehyun shut the door behind them, shutting the world out from you and him.

“You could have charmed the panties off of her.” you said, crossing your arms against your chest.” Pretty sure she would have blown you in front of the fridge if you had stood in the kitchen any longer.”

“Is that why you walked away?” Jaehyun said. “Scared of the competition?”

“Please.” you said. “I just really wanted to get fingerbanged by the husband over the toilet.”

“I can make that a reality.” Jaehyun smirked.

You walked into the kitchen and sat on a stool, smiling to yourself when Jaehyun followed you like a dog. “It’s not fair what you do to them.”

Jaehyun held on to either side of the stool and kept his face inches from yours. “You’re just angry because I win every time.”

“The husband always loves his wife too much.”

“And the wife is always ready to get fucked raw.” Jaehyun said. "By yours truly, of course."

“Maybe I should just start fucking the wife.” you said, peeling Jaehyun’s fingers from the stool.

“I would very much like that.”

“I know you would.” you said, pushing him away.

Jaehyun was pushed back feet from you. He yanked at his tie until it was loosely hanging around his neck. He ran a hand through his sandy brown hair, the ends sticking straight up in some places. You watched him, knowing it was what he wanted. You could see his chest hair peeking out from between the now unbuttoned portion of his dress shirt. The heat began to cover your body like a warm blanket of sin, as you thought about tangling your tongue up in those hairs.

“I can feel you on my skin, even though you haven’t touched me yet.” he whispered.

Jaehyun rolled his neck around, cracking it in some places. When his eyes met yours, the shade of brown appeared somewhat darker. You could feel that look rolling all the way down your stomach until it settled in its depths, curling up in itself. Your nerves felt shot, your confidence gone.

“Doesn’t it just feel so good to give in to me?” Jaehyun asked, his voice a little rough. “Don’t you want to play with me in this big, bad house?”

He came to you, only stopping by the length of your knees. He tucked his fingers underneath your chin and brought your eyesight up to his. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. He let his palm run smoothly down your throat, giving it a little squeeze. Your body was unmoving underneath his touch. Sometimes, you would absolutely vibrate with pleasure when Jaehyun touched you. Other times, you would become still like a steel fortress in the wind, wanting him to work a little for your affection, to open up your doors to him like an open house.

The house was empty, but so full at the same time. Jaehyun got down on his knees in a moment of submission, his head down like he was praying. He hugged you, his arms resting on your thighs, his whole being in your lap. It lasted less than a minute until he was back on his feet, a rare sweetness in his eyes as the rest of his body became unfamiliar and rigid.

“Stand up.” he said, his voice cold, the sound of it rattling through the bones of the house. Though there was a faint grin on his lips and a playful eyebrow raised, Jaehyun wasn’t allowing himself to be played with anymore.

You were not quick enough. He took you by the sides of your shoulders and pulled you from the stool. Your knees buckled but Jaehyun caught you in time, the move making your nipples harden. He could see the reaction through your work shirt, your two little buds staring him in the face. All you wanted was for him to touch you, but he wouldn't.

It was fun playing the game with him, since you two were so alike. There were times when you dominated Jaehyun, making him eat you out and cum before the new couples would arrive at the house. If he failed, he would be punished and have to do something embarrassing for him. If he passed, you would both be in a great mood and would usually get a house sold. Then, like now, there were times when Jaehyun took control, which would usually be followed by a lack of sales disappointment. You could always feel those times coming, the excitement unable to be contained.

Jaehyun took your hand and whisked you off through parts of the house where he knew prying eyes wouldn’t find you. He ran up the stairs eagerly, tugging you along behind him, not bothering to see if you were tripping up.

“The master suite.” Jaehyun said, stopping in front of a door. “Wait here.”

He left you standing in front of the closed door for over five minutes. You kept checking the time on your phone, your eyes roaming up and down every detail of the white, wooden door. If he was trying to tantalize you, it was working. You were very impatient, trying your best not to bust through the door and hop right on his dick.

“Come in.” Jaehyun said.

You held onto the handle, the image of the husband jiggling that very handle less than an hour ago fresh on your mind.

“I won’t tell you twice.” Jaehyun said.

You opened the door and saw Jaehyun sitting on the edge of a model bed. He had stripped it of the crisp sheets and fluffy pillows that were adorning it. He was shirtless and his dress pants were unbuttoned, his brown leather belt hanging by his sides.You drank him in like that, the impatience waning away.

“Come closer.” he said.

“So bossy.” you smiled.

You walked closer. Since you knew that you affected him as much as he affected you, every step felt delicious. You stood in front of him, ready to rip your business skirt off if he just said the magic words.

“Good girl.” he said, standing up.

He was looming over you, the heat from his body making you hot. You wanted to press your hands to his sweaty chest and push him down onto the bed. You wanted to bite his shoulder so hard that it made him cry out. You wanted to sit on that strong jaw, rocking your body over him until he was suffocating.

“Look me in the eyes,” he said. “Don’t look at my body, like I’m a piece of meat.”

“A little bit of disobedience never hurt anyone.” you said, meeting his eyes.

It was difficult to keep your eyes trained on his when you could hear him unzipping his pants. Each click of the teeth made your clit throb, like his tongue was already gliding over it. You could hear his pants falling down to his ankles, and from the corner of your eye, could see him shift slightly to step out of them until he was naked. With your imagination, you thought of him stroking his cock, pumping his fist up and down his shaft.

“Are you with me?” Jaehyun breathed. “Be with me right now.”

You nodded as the sounds of him masturbating heightened. Jaehyun moaned and let his eyes disconnect from yours. Though he was looking down at his cock, you were looking at the top of his pretty head. There were thousands of hairs you could tug and pull to get him to comply, to have him give you his cock. You could feel the tip of him and his fist rubbing against you as he made it upwards, each stroke nearly punching you, because he was so close.

You looked down, the top of your head skimming his. He was going at it slowly, moving his body like he was fucking his own fist. It was so sexy that you could feel all the nerves in your body tingling. Though his pleasure didn't happen to you, you could feel every grain of it. You breathed heavily with him, your body going through the build up with Jaehyun.

Your eyes met him again. Yours were, no doubt, asking him why he was being so cruel. It took a minute for him to stop, for Jaehyun to set his mouth in a grim line, and to cock his head and look lost in thought.

“This isn’t about you.” he said. “This isn’t about your pleasure. On your knees and put my cock in your mouth. Don’t stop sucking until I say.”

As you got slowly to your knees, your lips slid down his stomach, your kisses rushed before he could decline them. You grabbed hold of his cock, the tip of him resting on your bottom lip before you looked up at him. He held your side of the neck before moving to the back of your head and forcing his cock down your throat until your eyes watered.

Fucking in a place that didn’t belong to you was thrilling. The owners could come back any second and catch you in the act. There could be cameras installed, or nosy neighbors coming to check up on the people who owned the lone car that sat in the driveway.

“Is it good?” Jaehyun asked, his voice velvety smooth. "How do I taste?"

You sucked his cock without stopping, testing him with both lips, tongue, and fingers. You brought him back so far into your throat that you choked and took him out with a string of saliva. You swallowed that, too, so grateful to have him in any of your holes.

Jaehyun pulled his cock out and teased himself back inside of your mouth slowly. You let your jaw hang open and laid your tongue flat while he fucked your face. You gripped his thighs and let your fingernails dig into him before he came on your tongue, grabbing a handful of your hair at release.

When he ordered you to stand up, he was still leaking. He wasn’t stopping for anyone, not even when you made a show of wiping his cum off of your chin with your finger and slipping it into your mouth.

"It tastes yummy." you said.

“Clothes off,” Jaehyun said, ignoring you. “Kneel on the bed.”

He wasn’t losing his erection. He treated his cock like it was delicate, holding it in his hands and stroking it gently. You watched him as you stripped, taking a little too long with the stockings. Jaehyun ended up ripping them from your legs and tossing them aside. Without saying another word, he grabbed your ankles and pulled you down to the edge of the bed, nearly making you faceplant on the mattress.

“Fuck.” you whispered, your body jerking in surprise as Jaehyun started eating you out from behind.

He wasn’t shy about it either. He was licking you, moving his head side to side and up and down, just to get every bit of you. His lips were so warm and you were so wet, that you had to sink your upper half onto the bed and place your forehead against your arm. Jaehyun squeezed your ass cheeks and pushed you forward, his tongue lapping up all of your wetness.

You didn’t want to break, to crumble. You wanted to be strong and not moan or give in completely. You didn’t want to let him know that he could bring you down with just a lick, but it was hard not to.

“Beg me.” Jaehyun said, coming up for air.

He smacked your ass and you turned around until you were on your back. It was rough and forceful, and it turned you on. Jaehyun kissed your ankle before moving his lips down your thigh.

“Beg me.” he repeated. “Fucking do it now.”

The hotness on your inner thigh as his mouth got higher was enough to make you call his name. “Please, Jaehyun.” you said. “Don’t stop.”

Jaehyun ate you out, slipping his fingers inside of you. He would occasionally stop and kiss his way up your body to leave hickeys on your neck, and catch glimpses of your face to see if you were enjoying it.

“Not about my pleasure, huh?” you asked, nearly laughing.

Jaehyun groaned. “Don’t ruin it.”

“Too late.” you said, moaning as he fingered you. “You smell like her.”

You kissed his neck and got the bite you wanted from his shoulder. You held him against you, making sure your scent was all over him. His mouth tasted like you, though. You kept kissing him and grabbing at his hands to make sure they didn’t stop fucking you. You were a tangle of bare limbs, holding him against you, and fighting for dominance.

Jaehyun lifted his fingers from your pussy and held himself up over you. He looked you in your eyes, his gaze falling to your lips before he kissed them. He moved his body and slipped his cock inside of you, knocking the air from your mouth.

Missionary position was not your favorite. It was too romantic, not as wild. You wanted him to break your back, to bend you into positions that made your legs wobble the next day. You wanted risk. You wanted it rough. But having Jaehyun’s weight on top of you in that way felt different. You let him move over you, holding your hips as he drilled himself inside of you.

It didn’t last long until you were wanting to flip him over, until you could be on top and ride him. Jaehyun smirked when he realized what you were doing and said, “I don’t think so.”

He leaned up until his sweaty body wasn’t clinging to yours anymore. He spread your thighs apart after pulling you closer to him. He let you get a good view of his cock disappearing inside of you.

“This pussy is mine.” he said, touching his fingers to your clit. “Say it’s mine.”

“It’s mine.” you said.

Jaehyun fucked you faster, his cock hitting your cervix a little rougher. You winced at the discomfort you quite liked, immediately wanting him to keep fucking you deeper.

“Say it.” he said, moaning with each thrust.

“Or what?” you challenged, breathlessly trying to hold yourself together.

Jaehyun gripped your wrists and brought them above your head. He got close to you again, his body smothering yours, and his cock fucking you in a way that was too good to stop.

“I’m yours.” you said. “It’s yours. All of it is yours.”

He smiled when he got what he wanted, the same charming smile that seemed to have most women on tenterhooks, wondering if they would give them something else of his. Jaehyun never would, though, because everything of his was also yours.

[littlepadika]

Calling Home (1) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues...

Rating: M -> E in later chapters

Warnings: fem!reader, age gap (legal), praise kink, voice kink, discussion of addiction/PTSD/trauma, no use of y/n, no beta reader, reader is bad at Spanish, Frankie has a sexy voice 😩

Masterlist here

AN: My first fic. Pedro writers have inspired me to finally start writing again 🥺. Concept inspired by the movie RED. I hope you like it ❤️Set after triple frontier.

Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time he called was an ordinary Thursday.

“Veterans Affairs, how can I help you?”

You had been working at the VA office for about two weeks. Fresh out of college you felt lucky to have a job in the first place. You went to school to be a writer but your big idea for 'The Next Great American Novel' had yet to present itself. At least here you had access to the most inspiring stories and interesting people. Men and women who had seen more and done more than you probably would in your entire life. You loved talking to clients on the phone. It was weird but something about only being able to hear people’s voices excited you. You would sometimes write little stories in your head about the people you'd talk to, filling in the details that were unknown.

Your desk accessories reflected your love of books and writing. You had your growing collection of books sitting on your desk sandwiched between baby pink bookends. Next to them was a matching desk organizer filled with your favorite sparkly pens and sticky notes. You had decorated the plain cubicle walls with posters of quotes from your favorite books. You also brought your favorite candle from home. Even though you couldn’t light it you still liked to lift it to your nose once and a while and smell it between chapters. When you weren’t on the phone or scanning documents you would read. You finished To Kill A Mockingbird in your first week on the job and were now halfway through Murder on the Orient Express.

You were starting a new chapter when Frankie Morales called the first time.

You picked up the phone on the second ring already mustering your chipper 'customer service' voice. “Veterans affairs.” You stated your name. “How may I help you?”

“H-Hi. My name is Frankie- uh-Francisco Morales." A deep voice answered you. "I’m calling because I have gotten my benefits check yet. It’s been a month. I was hoping you could tell me if it got sent?”

“Okay Mr. Morales." You flipped on the computer. "Let me check. Can you spell your last name for me?”

“M-o-r-a-l-e-s”

“Okay... let's see.” You clicked on his account. You were momentarily distracted by his picture likely taken when he graduated basic if you had to guess based off the uniform. He looked sweet. Sharp nose and strong jaw balanced by kind eyes and a shy smile. You could imagine how age would continue to soften his expression making him even more handsome. The image was a strange juxtaposition to the voice you were hearing on the phone which was much deeper and rougher. His profile said he was special forces. A pilot. The rest of the information was blacked out. Something you were used to seeing on many people's accounts but even his years of service were redacted. He must have been involved in some dangerous stuff, you thought to yourself. The dates that were not redacted were mostly in Latin America. You clicked over to processing requests. “Looks like the check got sent one week ago.” You informed him.

"I'll look again but I haven't seen anything-" It sounded like he was apologizing when clearly it was not his fault.

"No no. It's probably a mistake on our end." You interrupted. With how shitty and outdated the payroll interface was you wouldn't be surprised if there was a mix up. "I’ll go ahead and let payroll know to send another."

"Great. Thanks." He replied sounding relieved. The roughness in his voice gave way to a smooth baritone.

“No problem. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may have caused. We'll get it sent right away." You hoped he was not relying on this benefit check for anything important. While you could promise you'd fix the problem, the administration was notoriously slow. When he didn't respond you asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Morales?”

“Uh-no" The roughness back in place. "Thank you." He paused before adding your name onto his thank you which made you smile. People usually never remembered your name.

“Alright. Have a nice day and thank you for your service.” You chirped before hanging up. The smile he put on your face lingered for a few minutes as you returned to your book.

The next time he called was exactly twelve days later.

“Veterans affairs” you answered, your routine greeting cut short as your eyes were still on your book.

“Hi- I’m calling because uh I still haven’t gotten my benefits check. This is Frankie Morales.”

“Oh Mr. Morales.” You recognized his voice even before he even said his name. You quickly shut your book, pushing your hair out of your face. Had you been thinking about him? No! Okay maybe you stared at his picture for a few minutes longer after he hung up. Yes, it was probably very unprofessional but you couldn't fight the curiosity. You were trying to rationalize the contrasting sharpness and softness of his features with his voice. How it all worked together. How one person's voice could change textures and colors so easily. You wondered what kind of things this man might have seen on the job. Most of the veterans you would help day to day did not have so many redacted missions and deployments. You were in the middle of Narcos season one so you immediately thought of drugs or something equally dangerous. After much pondering, you had come to the conclusion that Frankie Morales was both insanely attractive and insanely courageous. “Still no check, huh?”

“Nope.” He sighed the sound making the phone's shitty speaker crackle as you held it to your ear.

“Let me just check that it was approved...“ you found his profile again and scrolled to the status page. “Hmm... it says it was sent out last Friday after we spoke. That’s so weird...”

“Yeah. Really weird.” He echoed your frustration on the other end.

Typical payroll, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. “I'll get another one sent to you right away. I'll see to it myself.” You tucked the phone under your chin and typed out a short email to Mary in payroll letting her know you'd be stopping by her office to explain the situation. You realized he hadn't hung up yet.

“Sorry for the back and forth.” You said, trying to fill the silence.

“It’s not your fault." The earlier irritation gone. "You’ve been really helpful.” His voice sounded warm and reassuring. Less gruff than it was last you spoke. Instead it was that rich baritone that you caught of glimpse of last time.

You feel your face warm at his compliment. It was this annoying reflex you had. Praise always made you blush no matter what context but it was worse when it came from a (you assume) gorgeous stranger.

“And just to verify that your address is correct- you’re on Maple Lane in Miami, Florida?”

“That’s right.” He confirmed.

“Okay. Sent!” You clicked send on the email, which caused the window to close and reveal Frankie’s profile page again. “I was curious-" You spoke before you really made the decision to speak. You didn’t want to overstep but once again your curiosity got the better of you. Honestly, you were just searching for a way to keep him on the phone. The day had been so boring.

“Your profile says you were stationed in Costa Rica.”

“For a bit.” He replied after a moment. He didn’t sound too defensive but there was definitely some tightness in his answer that made you feel bad for asking. Like you were scratching a wound.

“Did you like it? The country I mean.”

“Are you planning a trip?” He sounds a little amused.

“Yeah- well- kind of. It's more a trip in my head right now. I’d like to go there one day. It looks so beautiful.” You sighed closing your eyes trying to imagine the heat on your skin.

“It is." He agrees. "Really humid though.”

“Mm that sounds nice.” You would kill for some warm weather after such a long winter in DC.

“It was too muggy for me at times." He grumbled. "If you do go, stick to the costal areas where it’s more breezy or else you’ll just be sweating the whole time.”

“I don’t mind a little sweat” you shrugged, still thinking of the awful east coast winter you were currently suffering through. The sexual connotation of what you said hit you hard as soon as you heard the statement in its entirety. You felt your face flush again, though the man on the other end would never know.

“I’m learning Spanish!" You announced loudly trying to move the conversation past your awkwardness.

“Wow. Muy impressivo.”

“Si” you replied but after a moment you admit “I don’t really know what you said.”

Frankie laughed loudly on the other end and you couldn’t help but join in, drawing dirty looks from the elderly lady, Donna, working in the cubicle across from you. You ducked your head behind a stack of papers to avoid her glare.

“Fake it till you make it.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you should help me out.” You took on an indigent but still playful tone. “You sound better than duolingo” Your smile widened when he laughed again. His laugh was what you hoped it would be, by all your assumptions from his picture. It was an unencumbered, unburdened, rich sound with only a hit of roughness from the air behind it.

“Tell me you’re not using that dumb app to learn.” he scoffed, saying your name in an almost scolding tone.

“I’m got my thirty day streak today.” You boasted.

“You’ll be a total tourist if you go by duolingo.”

“But the owl is so cute every time I get something right!” You argued your voice taking on a more childish cadence.

“That’s how they trap you, silly girl.” He teased right back. Usually such a condescending nickname would piss you off but something about the affection behind him using it made you feel very differently. You felt warm like you were proud to be silly as long as it made him laugh.

“Then you saved me just in time, Mr. Morales.” You bit your lip. His scoffing and laughter died down on the other end.

“Frankie” He corrects you.

“Frankie…” You repeated it, smiling at how well the nick name suited the voice over the phone. Honest, sincere, and not pretentious at all. Way better than the pompous guys you know with equally stuffy names like “Edward” and “Christopher.”

“So what do you want to know?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts. “Dime”

You started asking him questions in Spanish to the best of your ability. Granted they weren't particularly probing questions. What is your name? What is your favorite color? What is your favorite animal? What's your favorite book? I am reading Gone Girl. He answered them all with patience and amusement, occasionally interrupting you to correct your pronunciation or explain what a word meant. Every time you’d repeat the word back correctly he would say something like “good” or “there you go” or “you got it”. You hated to admit that his kind words and his praise was doing something to you. You didn't even realize you were clenching your legs together unconsciously, almost in anticipation of his next correction or next answer. His low voice so sweet and encouraging against your ear, more tangible when he was speaking Spanish. You just wanted to hear more of it. Would it be this sweet in other situations? Would it get huskier or rougher? If you closed your eyes it was like he was sitting right next to you. It would be all too easy to slip into that daydream and escape the dull office.

Suddenly out of the corner of your drooping eyes you saw a flashing red light on the phone console meaning another caller was waiting.

“Shoot- i’m sorry, Frankie- I have to take this call.” You shot forward in your chair, legs uncrossing.

“Of-Of course. I should let you get back to work.” He sounded a little sad or so you hoped. You felt bad for interrupting him after you both were having so much fun. You wanted to say he could wait on hold but he killed that idea when he said, "I have work too. Technically I'm five minutes past my lunch break."

Your pout turned to a smile. He was spending his precious lunch break with you? Get a grip! you snapped at yourself.

“You’re welcome to call again if you want.” You threw out the offer in a small voice, scared you would be rejected. You peered over the cubicle wall to see if you were still being glared at. Thankfully Donna was away from her desk. Probably out for a smoke. “It’s really boring here and usually no one calls.”

“Maybe I will.” He replied and you could hear the smile behind those words. You felt your heart clench weirdly in your chest like it didn't know how to process the sudden spike in emotions.

“Bye, Frankie.” You beamed.

“Bye”

This time the smile on your face lasted for hours. Frankie’s laugh echoed around in your head, taunting you, sending your mind to the gutter. His voice went from grit to molasses on a dime. You wanted to be the one to bring out those sounds. You wanted to hear his voice bend and stretch and strain as you fucked him. What the hell is wrong with me? you screamed internally. You had never been so depraved and with a stranger no less! You clearly needed to get laid fast because this much yearning would not end well.

Frankie got the second VA check a few days later and this time he didn’t even feel bad about ripping it in half. He was already reaching for the phone to call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: Message to be added 💕 no minors please!