#And it's nice to watch something a lot of my friends grew up on

[themostuselesspotato]

I was a very sheltered kid and didn't get to consume fandom content until a few years ago, and most of the fandoms I'm in have been over for years before I watched the content. It's really weird to experience a show in real time?? Like usually I binge something and then go and obsess over fandom content for the next month (or several), but now I have to wait for said fandom content to be made?? I wanna read fanfic about the tbb finale but I also need to give creators time to write it lol 😅

I'm just so not used to being in fandoms that are still updating/just ended that it feels weird to me ig

[roanofarcc]

A MISJUDGMENT

pairing. tyler owens x fem!reader

summary. when kate drags you back to the home for a one-week stint to help out one of her old friends, you meet tyler owens. the uncouth cowboy and his reckless actions when dealing with something as dangerous as tornados almost instantly prick your nerves until you realize maybe there's more to the cowboy than meets the eye.

warnings. description of tornados, a curse word or two, slightly inaccurate meteorological info, reader is from the midwest.

word count. 2k || masterlist

a.n. did not expect my other fic to get so much love!! sending kisses to everyone who sent me such nice words <3 and I am having a ball with all of the wonderful requests I'm getting!!

The difference between the Oklahoma and New York was more jarring than you remembered. The wide-open skies and fields that stretched for miles were a distantly familiar sight as you stepped out of the truck. You had grown up in the Midwest, smack dab in the middle of tornado alley, which meant your youth was spent listening to your cautious mother warn you every tornado season of the dangers the storms posed so you’d always be prepared when worst came to worst. You’d hunkered down more time than you could count in your storm cellar, listening to doors rattling and the radio speak. Your father was less cautious; he enjoyed watching the storms roll in on the front porch as he listened to the distant hum of sirens. 

You’d never been a fan of storms, not like your father. They made you nervous; the unpredictably and devastating destruction wasn’t something you found fascinating enough to chase.

Moving to New York was a culture shock but you were lucky enough to score to a job working in tandem with someone who also grew up in tornado alley. You and Kate quickly became friends, bonding over your upbringing and knowledge of the weather. She had opened up to you about her storm-chasing days, all ending with the tragedy that took the lives of three people she loved. Her story only cemented your opinion of storm chasing; it was too risky. But she had suckered you in with your love for the science behind weather, and the next thing you know you were in Oklahoma with Kate and a friend of hers on a one-week mission.

You stuck back with the team in charge of reading the data the chasers collected. Your apprehension wasn’t thwarted by Kate’s reassurance, but you’d always known her to be smart and she knew those storms better than anyone. Your distaste for storm chasers was not because of those there for the science of it all, but rather those who did it for the thrill. 

Tyler Owens was exactly the kind of person you expected to drive into tornados with no regard for the danger. What he was doing, from what you gathered from Javi’s brief explanation, was for entertainment and the excitement of facing down peril, laughing in the face of it. 

You stretched in the nighttime air as Kate closed the truck door behind her and turned to you with the same unsure smile she’d been carrying around since you arrived in Oklahoma. You could tell her feelings were mixed about being back there, but you also saw the spark of enjoyment she was slowly relighting. 

“I’ll go check us in,” Kate said, gesturing to the front office of the motel before she took off. You leaned against the side of Javi’s truck, yawning and taking in the scene of more storm chasers lounging around the motel’s lot, enjoying each other’s company as you all waited for another storm to pop up amidst the outbreak. 

The sound of boots under gravel approached you, belonging to none other than Tyler Owens himself. “How ‘ya holding up, city girl?” he said. 

He introduced himself to you and Kate when you first arrived with Javi, meeting his team and the other groups of chasers who were all gunning after the same storm. She had told him the two of you were in from New York for the week, and he assumed that meant you both were born and raised there. Maybe you had lost your Midwest twang during your stay, but no matter how far you moved away, a piece of you would always remain there. 

“Just fine, thank you,” you replied. His team had set up not far from where you two stood; they all seemed busy working on their equipment, but their work was often cut by howls of laughter. They seemed to be enjoying themselves more than Javi’s team was. They’d all split up into separate rooms for the night, so they’d be ready to leave first thing in the morning. 

He rested his arm against the bed of the truck, making himself comfortable as he too looked out across the lot at the people. “I’ve always wanted to visit New York City,” he said, surprising you. That seemed like the last place someone like him wanted to go. “What’s it like?” 

You shrugged. “A lot different than this.” You looked upwards at the sky, seeing stars blinking back at you. The skies were never that dark in New York City, but the towering buildings made for a cool scene too. “I haven’t lived there too long, though. I’m still figuring it out.” You were still trying to gauge if you liked it more than home. You liked the hustle and bustle most of the time, but being back under starry skies and open plains, you had to admit you missed it a little. 

“Really?” he furrowed his brows. “Where’d you move from?” 

“Kansas.” 

He smiled in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be damned. City girl’s not actually a city girl after all.” 

“I’m full of surprises.” 

“I’m seein’ that.” Tyler was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Do you miss it?” 

You weren’t sure why he asked or why he seemed to care, but you answered regardless. “Sometimes. Not so much the storms though.” 

He laughed. “Yet, you’re out here storm chasing anyway?” 

“I’m just here to help my friend; their business is to help people. That kind of storm chasing I can get behind, I guess. Yours on the other hand…” You trailed off, and he scoffed in mock offense. 

“My kind of business is to face my fears.” 

It was your turn to scoff. “By putting yourself and your friends in danger for…what, exactly? Your internet audience? I know plenty of people like you from back home. You’re reckless and irresponsible.” You saw Kate waving you down by the stairs of the motel, flashing a set of room keys in the air. You said nothing more to Tyler, didn’t even give him a chance to defend himself, before you walked off and into your room for the night

You’d seen devastation before following a tornado, but it was still a harrowing sight. Homes flattened, family belongings flung miles away, and people left hurt in the ruins of their town. You, Kate, and all of Javi’s team arrived just as the storm subsided and the damage was fresh as wounds many of the townspeople bared. You wasted no time going around to help people; Kate did the same. 

An old woman sat in her front yard, carefully cradling windchimes in her arms. “Are you all right?” you asked, kneeling down in the wet grass in front of her. She looked up slightly startled but smiled kindly as she shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m just fine, dear, thank you.” 

“Here you go, Ms. Riley,” a familiar voice sounded from behind you. You turned your head just as Tyler appeared, holding a small box in one hand and a little kitten in the other. The woman, Ms. Riley, gasped and sat her windchimes back on the grass. She took the kitten, teary-eyed, as it purred. “There’s food there too. Make sure you eat, and if you need more my team’s got a table set up just down the road, all right?” 

“Thank you,” she said. 

Tyler said nothing to you as he began to walk away, but you followed him, not catching up with him until he was at a little table surrounded by his team. They had a stack of brown boxes they were handing out, filled with sandwiches one of the members was making quickly. They also handed out bottles of water to the line of people who had just been affected by the storm. 

One of his team members smiled at you, holding out a box of food. “You hungry?” they asked, but you shook your head. 

“No. These people need it, but thanks.” 

You weren’t sure for a moment that Tyler was going to say a word to you. You hadn’t left your last conversation on the nicest note, only to find him and his team working hard to help the ravaged neighborhood. 

But he turned toward you for a moment, looking a little conflicted. “At least take a water,” he said before looking at another member of his team. “Lily, can you take some boxes up the road? There’re  some people who can make it all the way down here.” She nodded, filling her arms with the boxes before she took off.

You were quiet for a moment, staring at Tyler as he and his team came up with a plan to help and feed as many people as they could before night fell. You felt a complicated set of feelings topple over you. And as Tyler started to walk away, you surged forward and grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn around. 

“What can I do to help?” 

Together, you and Tyler spent the rest of the afternoon helping members of the neighborhood find their lost belongings and connected anyone with injuries to the EMTs working overtime. It wasn’t until the sun started to set that you took a break, finding a blown-away lawn chair that was still usable to sit on. All day you had eaten your judgment and first impression of Tyler and his team. Maybe they all were reckless and a little irresponsible in their storm-chasing, but they were doing just as Kate was, helping people, just differently. He and his team apparently did that often and were some of the first responders to the damage the tornados they chased caused. You had overheard Lily tell Kate they used the money from their t-shirt sales to buy food for victims of the storm. 

“Hey,” Tyler greeted, approaching you with two boxes of food. “Here.” He handed onto to you before he found a seat and pulled it up beside you. 

You thanked him before the two of you ate in silence for a little while. Some of the debris had been picked up, but the wrecked houses haunted the street. You’d been lucky enough to never lose your home turning a storm, but you knew too many people who had. It was terrible. That was why you had gotten a metrology degree. You had witnessed the devastation storms brought and even though you were trapped behind a computer most days, your goal was to help improve warning systems for all kinds of disasters and ensure that people knew the best way to prepare for them, but it wasn’t foolproof. Sometimes all there was to do was help pick up the pieces in the wake. 

“I think I misjudged you,” you said, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah?” He smiled slightly, his face warmly illuminated by the ironically beautiful sunset. “Are you taking back the reckless and irresponsible comment?” 

“No.” You smiled too. “But maybe that’s not such a bad thing. You guys did a good thing here, helping these people.” 

Maybe there was more to him than you had originally believed. 

“It’s all a part of the job,” he said, a bit too casually for all of the work they actually did to help; one could say he was humble about it, which confused you even more. From the second he climbed out of his truck the first time you saw him, you were so sure you knew exactly the kind of guy he was. 

“You aren’t exactly how I expected you to do,” you said, honestly. 

He seemed to take that in stride, smirking at you bright enough to bring heat to your face. “Well, if you stick around, you might even get to like me.” 

You laughed. “Don’t push your luck, cowboy.” But you had a feeling he right be right. The week wasn’t over yet; you still had time to figure out exactly who Tyler Owens was. 

[bwabys-scenarios]

Hello dear! How are you? Could you please do Perv! Chrollo if it's not too much trouble? I haven't seen much Perv Chrollo content out there, and I'd love to see that in your writing! You can ignore it if you want, have a nice day ♡ (Sorry if it seemed confusing, English is not my first language ☠️)

His pretty girl

Perv!Chrollo x Fem!Reader

warnings: perv behavior, panting stealing, reader is mentioned to be chubby, excessive gift giving, somno, dubcon, reader is innocent and naive, breeding kink, pregnancy, bit of Yandere chrollo if you squint, Chrollo calls you princess/angel/goddess, minor manga spoilers about Shalnark

A/N: not the biggest chrollo fan but him being head over heels in love and just a big softy with his lover does do something for me.

NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

Unlike most pervs, Chrollo is much sneakier with his perversion. You won’t catch him sniffing your panties or jacking off to pictures of your cute face… but you will find pairs of your panties covered in his cum in your dresser, and lots of pictures of you saved on his phone if you go looking.

Chrollo absolutely adores you, he enjoys seeing you blush and stutter when you find a particularly nasty love letter stuffed into your mailbox, or those pair of missing lacy panties folded neatly on your bed, with strange stains on them.

He first fell for you when Shalnark introduced him to you. You met Shal through the Hunter exam years ago, though you didn’t pass. Regardless, the two of you stayed good friends, with Shal making sure you stayed safe while under his care.

But Shalnark was quick to back off the second Chrollo showed interest in you. You were just too cute, with your chubby frame and pretty face. Chrollo had never really put much thought into his sexual preferences, but seeing your plump ass and fat tits was enough to awaken something… sinful in him.

After that first meeting, you started receiving little gifts from him. At first, they were just pretty trinkets that Chrollo found on his missions, but as his obsession and adoration for you grew, those little trinkets because expensive dresses and luxurious jewelry.

At first you thought it was just him being generous with you, considering your living situation wasn’t the best. You were very appreciative, your cheeks heating up and your voice small when he smiled sweetly after you thanked him.

But over time, strange things started happening that you just couldn’t explain!

Your windows would be open in the morning when you were sure you closed them last night… and what was that sticky stuff on your face?

Chrollo had gotten into the habit of breaking in to watch you sleep. In the beginning, it was because he felt such intense love and care for you that he just couldn’t bear the thought of you getting harmed in your most vulnerable state!

He’d sit at the edge of your bed, reading a book while gently stroking your cheek. It was cute, you seemed so content and happy in your sleep when he was with you. It made his heart soar thinking that maybe, just maybe he had something to do with it.

But soon those soft and innocent intentions shifted when he noticed how… revealing your pajamas were sometimes. Those flimsy little shorts and the fact he could see your nipples through your thin white tanktop had his cock straining against his pants.

You always looked so soft and peaceful, something he wanted to protect and cherish. You were the only person linking him to the normal world, where your biggest problems were paying rent on time and figuring out what to eat for dinner, while his were trying to keep his friends from dying and which heist he should plan next.

You lived in a completely different world than him, and that was some of the appeal. Chrollo had never lived a normal life, but with you, he could have some shred of normalcy. He could marry you, make you his sweet little wife and live out the rest of his days keeping you happy and safe.

But… deep down Chrollo knew this was next to impossible. He was a wanted criminal, with more enemies than he could care to remember.

He still liked to imagine it, though. You, sitting in a rocking chair your swollen belly, carrying his child. He’d come home from a heist, carry you upstairs and ravish you, making sure to be extra careful with your delicate body.

Chrollo stroked his cock to this thought, his tip gently pressed against your lips as you slept. He’d done this exact things countless times… he hadn’t been expecting you to wake up right as he buckled his pants after cumming on your lips.

“… Chrollo?”

You rubbed your sleepy eyes, then wiped at your mouth, grimacing. Did you drool in your sleep? It was too dark to make out what was on your hand… but there was just enough light to see your friend Chrollo standing there, peering down at you with a slightly surprised expression.

He quickly took on his usual calm, charming facade. “Hello, (Name). Shal asked me to come watch over you. Apparently there’s been a few break ins in town that got both him and I worried for you.”

It was all lies, but something he loved about (Name) was her naïveté. You smiled sweetly, your cheeks heating up. “Really? You came to make sure I was okay?”

Chrollo nodded, setting his book on your nightstand before sitting at the edge of your bed. “Of course… I don’t think you understand just how much you mean to me, (Name).”

You didn’t have time to react, he was already leaning closer to you. His eyes were captivating in the moonlight, reflecting the light and shining like jewels.

“You’re divine, (Name), like an angel sent from Heaven just for me.”

He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lip. “I want you, more than anything.”

Hearing this from a handsome man like Chrollo felt unreal. He wanted you of all people? It was hard to believe.

As if sensing your hesitancy, Chrollo tilted up your chin. “Do you want me to show you?”

Before you could answer, his lips met yours. He had been holding back for so long, he needed this, he needed you. You were always so sweet to him, making sure he was eating well and even coming to visit him when you could. How could he ever ask for anything more than you?

It wasn’t long before his tongue entered your mouth and his hands slipped under your shirt to grab at your perky, plump tits. You whines softly into his mouth as his thumbs ran over your sensitive nipples.

“Like that, princess?”

He gave them a soft pinch, biting down on your lip as he moved one hand to your shorts. He didn’t both with taking them off, he ripped them and pinned you down, one hand pinning your wrists and the other unbuckling his pants.

“My darling…”

His eyes settled on your pretty cunt, wet and glistening in the moonlight. Chrollo had a few one nights stands in the past, but he never felt like this before. Your pussy, all wet and ready for him was enough to have him groaning into your neck as his cock sunk into your warm heat.

He grabbed onto your hips, his fingers sinking into the soft fat. You were so cute, tears pooling down your cheeks as you blubbered incoherently, too fucked out to speak. He leaned forward and kissed those soft lips of yours, so soft and gentle with his little angel.

“Shh, just take me okay? Fuck, you’re divine, my angel, my goddess…”

With one leg over his shoulder as he pressed your bodies together, Chrollo fucked into you. He tried his best to restrain himself, but god you looked way too pretty when you came around his cock for the third time.

You clung to him for comfort and some sort of stability as he mercilessly pounded your sensitive cunt. “Pretty, god you’re just gorgeous, my sweet girl…”

By the end of the night, you were too exhausted to even speak, your pussy full of his seed. He held you now, cooing softly as he peppered kisses along your cheeks and jaw. “Did so well, such a good girl…”

From then on Chrollo’s obsession with you would only deepen. He’d marked you up, leaving love bites all over your neck and chest. You were his, and he’d make sure everyone knew that.

It wasn’t long before he had moved you away, somewhere you could be together and also under the radar. After Shalnark’s death, he became a bit paranoid that Hisoka would come after you next.

So now there you were, belly swollen with his child as he held you in his lap, his palm resting on your baby bump.

Chrollo had you, and although it wasn’t quite the life he had expected, he was still happy with it. You were here with him, carrying his baby and unable to get a way, even if you wanted to.

And that was enough for him.

[keikikait]

can you do something really angsty for rafe please. like one where they might not end up together:(

ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ᴡᴀʟᴋ ʜᴏᴍᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 4.8k

summary: from the corner, at the party, you watch him

warnings: ANGST!!!!, pining/whipped reader, rafe & reader are friends, kook!reader & kook!rafe, drinking, not proofread

a note: yeah....yeah....

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

He’s never looked more beautiful. 

You bring the red solo cup to your lips, eye twitching and throat burning as you take a sip. It was foul, cheap vodka mixed with melted skittles, but it was getting you drunk, and that’s all that mattered. You felt like a creep, sitting in the corner of Barry’s living room, practically eye fucking Rafe as he stands in the kitchen, but you couldn’t help it. Your eyes naturally went to his figure, tracing the expanses of his toned arms. 

You wanted him.

You always have.

From the second you met him in elementary school, when you were around 6 years old, you’ve had a crush on Rafe. You remember that day like it was yesterday. You had just gotten new shoes that had laces instead of Velcro, and even though your mom had tied them for you in the morning, you were struggling to tie them yourself after they had come undone. Rafe had spotted you in the courtyard and expertly tied them himself before sticking his hand out towards you to shake, announcing his presence with the upmost confidence. Ward had been raising him to be a businessman, after all.

You fell for him immediately, and you fell hard. As your friendship grew, so did your feelings towards him. You had just moved to Kildare, and your parents had exclaimed that you would be best friends forever when you discovered that you were actually his next door neighbour. Through the trees you could just make out his bedroom window, and if he tried hard enough, he could see right into yours too. You spent the rest of your days wanting, needing, dying for him, hoping one day he would pick you over whatever girl of the week he was seeing. You wondered what it was like to be chosen. You were never chosen by Rafe. You were a maybe, a probably, sometimes even definitely, but never his first choice. 

You remember when he got his first actual girlfriend, April. You were 13, already head over heels in love with him, and were absolutely devastated when he sent you that text. You cried so hard you nearly threw up, yet your reply to him was a simple ‘Congrats!’. You knew that he didn’t like you back then, and that showing any type of jealousy would just drive a further wedge between you. He was already starting to pull away. He was dealing with so much at home that he was taking it out on everyone else at school, constantly screaming and yelling and throwing things. He needed the attention he wasn’t getting, and it seemed that the attention you were giving him wasn’t enough.

At 15, he got a new girlfriend, Lillian. They weren’t serious like how he was with April, but this was the first girl he had in a while that actually stuck around. Lillian didn’t like you, and you didn’t like her. She was, quite ironically, jealous, and was constantly reading your texts with Rafe. She purposely excluded you from parties and hangouts, doing everything in her power to get you away from Rafe. They only lasted seven months before Rafe dropped her, saying: ‘I’ve known her for a few months. I’ve known you my whole life. It’s a pretty easy choice.’

He didn’t get another girlfriend until he was 17, bordering on 18, when he met Jacquelyn. The daughter of one of Ward’s business partners, they were essentially a PR relationship, only hugging and holding hands during fancy black tie events. Jacquelyn was nice to you, nice enough, although you always had a feeling that she knew you loved Rafe. 

And it was hard not to love him. You had tried so many times over the years to just get a grip and move on, but something about him was so alluring. You had watched him grow, blossom into the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, and it was hard not to fall for him. You had tried to gaslight yourself a few times into believing you were truly over him, climbed out of the hole you were stuck in, but the next time you hugged, and you got to bury your face into his chest, you fell right back down. He was the moon in your universe, and you were barely even a star.

Just as you had seen Rafe blossom, you had seen him shrivel up. Watching him get into drugs, alcohol, and violence was heart-wrenching, but he never listened to you. He said you didn’t get it, and you didn’t understand him, but when things got too much for him, or he got too drunk, he would always turn up on your porch, your favourite candy in hand as a figurative olive branch. And you accepted it every time, eagerly opening your arms to welcome him, revelling in the feeling of his whispered apologies in your ear. 

You were always the one he went to.

Until he met Sofia.

You didn’t want to hate Sofia, but you couldn’t help it. She had everything you wanted, and she was everything you wanted to be. She had Rafe, and she was Rafe’s. After Rafe heard of Ward’s death, Sofia is the one he went to, not you. You didn’t see him until weeks later at The Island Club, and as you tried to give him your condolences, she whisked him away. He left the room as quickly as he entered it, leaving only a waft of his cologne and a pit in your stomach in his wake.

She stole him away from you, constantly hanging on his arm and dragging away during parties. He never responded to you anymore, too busy spending time with her, taking her to some stupid boutique on the mainland or going with her to the beach when the UV was too high to resist. Did he rub sunscreen on her back? Did his hands ever slip under the bikini straps as he caressed her skin, did his hands ever wander around the front and slip underneath the cups?

Did you even want to know?

You had grown apart these last few months. You rarely saw him, even out on Kildare, and your conversations were few and far between. Even then, your feelings for him never faded. You would sit on the chair by your window, staring out towards his, wondering if just maybe you would catch a glimpse of him walking by. You felt, for lack of a better word, hollow without him. Rafe was one of your best friends, and after spending years together attached at the hip, you were suddenly missing your other half. It felt like a breakup, except you were never together in the first place. You were grieving a relationship that never even happened. 

You advert your eyes from Rafe, realising you’ve been staring for a bit, and go to take another sip, only to find your cup empty. You sigh, chewing on the inside of your lip as you look back up at the kitchen. His arm is slung around Sofia’s neck, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing at her collarbones as she leans against his chest, a smug look on her stupid pretty face as she sips on her hard seltzer.

You look back at the cup again. You needed more alcohol if you were going to stay sane at this party. You stand up, placing the pillow that was once in your lap on the chair before moving across the room towards the kitchen, manoeuvring through drunk Kooks and groping couples until you reached the linoleum.

‘It’s an open bar,’ Barry said, ‘Take whatever.’ so you didn’t feel weird about immediately digging through his liquor cabinet, pulling out the giant bottle of Everclear from the bottom shelf. You had only ever had Everclear one other time, and all you remember of the night was waking up face first in the sand with seaweed in your hair. You had promised yourself never again, but this night was different. You wanted to stay at this party and be with your friends, but you couldn’t bear to look at Rafe and Sofia sober.

Rafe’s thumb moves up to caress Sofia’s jaw as he watches you set the Everclear down on the kitchen counter. “Damn, already?”

Oh, shit. Was he talking to you? You look over, pursing your lips together. “Uh, yeah. Why not live a little, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess…” He mutters, dragging his thumb down Sofia’s neck. “You know that stuff is hella strong, right?”

Did he not remember that night? “I’m just gonna take one shot, dude.”

“Well, one shot can turn into two, then into four, then…” He trails off. “You know how you are after a few shots.”

You unscrew the Everclear and pour some into your solo cup. Your hands are shaking from the vodka you had before, and you dump in more than you had initially planned on. You screw the cap back on and slip it into the cabinet again before opening the fridge to grab a mixer. “I got it.”

He watches you pour, eyebrows raising when he sees the amount that flows into your cup, but he says nothing, simply continuing to caress the skin of Sofia’s jaw with his thumb. “Mhm, okay.”

Sofia looks between the two of you, sipping on her drink before speaking up, “You never drink like this.”

You don’t even fucking know me, you want to say, but you don’t. You shrug as you open a can of Cherry Coke and dump it into the solo cup before crushing it and tossing it into the recycling bin on the edge of the kitchen. “Just wanna try something new.”

“You could do that with literally anything. Everclear is not a good start,” He sighs, looking down at you. “One shot of that stuff will have you on your ass within the hour.”

You swirl the drink in your cup and shrug again as you leave the kitchen to go back to your spot. “We’ll see.” You glance at Rafe over your shoulder as you take a sip, moving back through the crowd.

It tasted disgusting. You felt the liquor burn all the way down to your stomach, your eyes watering slightly as you hold back a cough, but you keep drinking. You wanted to forget. You wanted to be drunk enough to not care about Rafe and Sofia. You sat back down without a word, grabbing the pillow you had left on the chair and putting it back on your lap. You watched the party from the corner, hesitating as you lift the cup to your lips and take another sip.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The party gets too hot too quickly.

November was one of the cooler months in the Outer Banks and although the patio door was wide open, you were starting to sweat. The alcohol, mixed with your bubbling anxiety as you watched Rafe and Sofia, was causing you to start to squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

You hadn’t even finished your drink when you head outside, pushing through the crowd bottlenecked at the door, breathing a sigh of relief when you reach the pool area. Your shoulders droop as you start to relax, your skin starting to cool down. The loungers and seats are full, but the pool is empty, even though Barry had been promising everyone it was heated. There were a few Kooks sitting on the edge of the hot tub, their feet in the water, beer cans littering the surrounding ground.

You look around, biting the inside of your lip. You start to move, looking around the expansive backyard before finding a small concrete bench pressed up against an old out of use fountain full of leaves and dried algae. You brush some of the leaves off and sit down, a small noise escaping your mouth at how fucking cold it is. You zip up your jacket, sitting cross-legged as you try to get as comfortable as possible. 

You continue to people watch, taking some brief moments to look up at the stars.

It’s peaceful, and you’re grateful for the silence. The sound from the house is still audible, but it’s muffled enough from being out in the yard. You watch the Kooks in the hot tub, noticing a couple of them starting to kiss.

You were grateful to be out of there.

You were grateful not to be looking at Rafe and Sofia. You couldn’t stop your mind from wandering back to the kitchen. Rafe’s hands on Sofia’s hips. Him burying his nose in her hair. The soft kisses they exchanged every time they thought you weren’t looking. It made your stomach turn.

You look up at the clear night sky, shivering as a breeze passes, brushing the stray hairs that escaped your low bun away from your face. You could see Orion, you could see the moon, you could even see some stars you didn’t know the name of. They manage to distract you for a long time, so long that you don’t even remember how long you’ve been sitting there.

You feel something heavy being placed on your shoulders, the weight startling you. You turn around, ready to snap at whoever had disturbed your solitude, but you're met by Rafe. He's wearing only a t-shirt, his own jacket in his hands. “Couldn't let you freeze to death sitting out here alone.”

“I have a jacket,” You say. It’s true, your jacket was keeping you warm, and a large part of you felt bad that Rafe was trying to give his up. “Keep yours.” As you stop dissociating, your fingers and toes suddenly feel stiff. You move the cup to your other hand, clenching and stretching your fingers.

He ignores your protest, draping his jacket over your shoulders anyway, even going as far as to zip it up under your chin. “No arguments. You looked like a baby deer sitting here shivering.”

His cologne smells so good. It smells like home. “Thanks.” Your eyes follow him as he sits next to you on the bench, beer bottle in hand.

“No problem,” Rafe looks out, his knee brushing your leg as he turns to check out the backyard, eyes scanning the Kooks in the hot tub as he takes a sip of his beer. After a moment, he turns back to you, eyebrows furrowing as he notices your drink. “You didn’t finish that.” he nods towards the cup in your hand.

“No, it’s uh…” You clear your throat and sit up straight. “It’s disgusting. Guess Everclear and Cherry Coke don’t mix.”

He snickers, “Told you so,” He takes another sip of his beer, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he looks at you. “You shouldn’t drink that stuff anyway. I’ve seen people go down quick after only one shot. Not pretty.”

“Eh. Wanted to try something new.” You say, swirling it around in the cup.

“Yeah, well, don’t go drinking Everclear again. I’m not gonna hold your hair back while you’re puking,” He gives you another once over, eyes lingering on your face. “You don’t look very good.”

You weren’t doing good. Not at all. You were trying to live your life without Rafe around, even just as a friend, and it was proving to be a very difficult task. It was so hard to not immediately rush to text him, or to send him a million TikToks throughout the day. You missed him, as much as it pained you to admit. You shrug. “Just kinda tired. Didn’t sleep well.”

He notices the change in your demeanour instantly, the walls that he was so used to seeing come down were up now. You were shutting him out. “You gotta stop staying up late on your phone, then.” he elbows you playfully, hoping to get you to laugh, like old times.

You don’t.

You awkwardly look back down at your drink and swirl it again. You had thought that maybe this unwelcomed distance would do you good, and you would eventually fall out of love with him, but it seems to get harder and harder every day. You just wanted to hold him one last time. You needed him back then, and you needed him still. You let out a breath. “Yeah. Probably.”

He stays silent, taking another sip from his beer as he looks back out to the yard. There was a tension in the air now, but he wasn’t sure if it was all in his head. You seemed…distant. Shut off. He was so used to your bright personality, your happy demeanour, your laugh. Now, you were just…blank. His knee bumps yours again as he shifts. He looked back over at you, watching you for a long time. You were just staring straight, avoiding his gaze.

You clear your throat again, setting your cup down beside you. You unzip his jacket and stand up as you slide it off, trying to avoid his gaze as you drape it over his shoulders. “I’m gonna head back inside.”

Rafe catches your wrist as you start to move away, fingers gentle, but firm, almost reluctant to let you go. His eyes meet yours immediately, holding your gaze captive as he looks at you. “Wait.”

“What?” You ask, picking your drink back up with your free hand.

“We…” he trails off, his thumb rubbing the sensitive skin of your inner wrist as he looks at you. It was cold outside, but your skin was so warm against his. It felt so natural. Like everything was right again. He didn’t ever realise how much he had missed you until now. “We need to talk.”

You try to pull your wrist away. “About what?”

He lets the grasp on your wrist loosen, but he doesn’t let go, his touch trailing down until his fingers are laced with yours. “About this…distance…” he motions vaguely between you two, “That you’ve been building for the past couple of months.”

“That I’ve been building?” You ask, your eyebrows raising. “You’re the one who’s been ignoring me.”

“Not on purpose. I’ve been busy.” he says defensively, almost immediately. He’d be lying if he didn’t say that he had been busy lately. Sofia had been keeping him on his toes lately, and he hadn’t had much time alone during the day, let alone time alone in his own home. But he also couldn’t deny that he had been purposefully avoiding you, knowing that if he spent too much time with you, Sofia would have something to say about it.

“Maybe I’ve been busy too.” You say, although it’s a lie. 

Rafe snorts, almost calling you out on the lie, but he lets it go with a sigh. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, just looking at you. His thumb rubs slow circles on the inside of your palm, the touch familiar. It hurt his chest. “I don’t like this.”

“Don’t like what?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“This,” He gestures between you and him. “This distance. I don’t like it,” He looks away, a frustrated expression on his face. “We’re friends. We’ve known each other for years. Why do you act like I can’t even approach you anymore?”

Friends. You never hated a word more. You take a step back, sighing as you glance out over the pool again. “Sometimes friends drift apart, Rafe.”

He looks at you, his jaw clenched as he watches you avoid his gaze once again. You wouldn’t even look at him. It was infuriating. He couldn’t believe that you were so nonchalant about all of this. Friends drift apart. That’s what you said. Did he have to mean so little? His hand falls back to his side, but the expression on his face stays fixed. “Bullshit.”

“You’re busy, I’m busy,” You say. “Sometimes that happens.”

“I’m only busy with Sofia,” He snaps, frustration seeping through in his voice. He takes a step towards you, eyes narrowed. “And even when I’m busy with her, I still manage to find time-” He stops himself, taking a moment to slow his breathing. He was getting too worked up. The last thing he needed right now was to blow up at you.

You chug the rest of your drink and set the empty solo cup on the bench, immediately regretting it. You should’ve dumped it out a while ago. The last thing you needed was a drunk walk home. “We’ve both been busy. That’s it, Rafe.”

“That’s it?” He repeats, looking at you incredulously. He couldn’t believe you were so blasé about this. About you guys practically ignoring each other, never talking, practically avoiding each other every chance you got. Was it so simple to you? To forget years of friendship over something so idiotic like being busy? “You’re bullshitting me.”

You hated this feeling. Your heart ached, and your hands went numb, your body full of tingles. You take a few more steps back. You had to do it, you had to rip the band-aid off if you wanted to finally move on. You didn’t want your happiness to live and die with him. “Maybe this friendship thing isn’t working anymore.”

It felt like you had stabbed him straight in the chest, twisted the blade, and then pulled it out slowly, painfully. Every word that you spat out felt like another layer of pain. It was bullshit. You had been by his side through everything. You were always there. He trusted you more than anyone. And this was how you felt now? You didn’t want to be friends? Rafe clenched his jaw, biting back the sting of emotion. “You’re not serious.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Rafe.” You say.

“I want you to tell me that you still give a damn about our friendship!” he says, a frustrated tone in his voice.  “I want you to tell me that this distance is bullshit and that I still mean something to you! That you still want to hang out and talk and everything else I thought we’d still be doing when we got older, and that I’m just reading into this too much! I want you to tell me that you’re just busy, and it’ll all get better in a little bit, because I can’t handle this anymore.”

“Rafe--” You try to speak, but he cuts you off.

He was getting more worked up now, his chest heaving as he stares at you. He had never felt like this before. You always knew how to calm him down from whatever fit he was throwing, but you weren’t doing that now. He takes a step closer, getting into your personal space now, anger evident in his eyes. “Do you even care about me anymore, or are you just pretending you do whenever I’m around? Do you hate me now?”

You would probably still adore him with his hands around your neck. “No, of course I don’t hate you.”

“Then why are you doing this to me?” He demands, his tone a mix of anger and desperation. He was getting louder, but he didn’t care. For once, he wanted to let his emotions out, knowing that they would be safe with you. “Why are you acting like this?” He gestures between you, “You’re shutting me out, and you’re pulling away, and you can’t even look me in the eye without flinching. Why? Tell me why.”

“Because I like you, Rafe!” You blurt out. Your eyes widen slightly when you realise what you said. You let out a shaky breath. “I like you a lot. More than I should. And seeing you with her, with Sofia… it’s so hard for me.”

He stares at you for a moment, stunned into silence by your confession. 

You liked him.

A lot?

More than you should.

His jaw clenched, his mind trying to process everything as he sits back down. He had suspected that you liked him more than a friend for a long time, but he had never dared to try and confirm it. The words were out in the open now, though. And it changed everything.

You hate how silent he’s being. Your voice is shaky when you start to speak again, “And I know that you don’t feel the same way about me. I know that, and I’m okay with that.”

He lets out an almost bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. The sound is harsh in the air, like a slap in the face. “That’s what you think? You think I don’t have feelings for you?” His voice was quiet, but there was something in it that made it even more threatening than if he was yelling.

“I know you don’t.” You say softly, tears starting to well in your eyes. You weren’t stupid. You knew from day dot that he would never feel the same way that you do, and you always knew that he would never be yours, but it was never enough to help you finally move on. 

For the first time in Rafe’s life, he struggles with what to say. It takes him a few seconds to find the words he's looking for. “Jesus Christ, are you kidding me? We’re not romantic or anything, we’re just friends.”

“I know that.” You say.

“We’re just friends.” He says again, as if you didn’t hear him the first time.

Your stomach hurts. “I know.”

He looks away from you, standing up from the bench. “How long have you liked me?”

“Since the day we met,” You say. “When you tied my shoe for me.”

He runs his hand through his hair again. “And you never said anything.” It’s a statement, not a question, and it stings.

“There was no point,” You say. “I knew even back then that you would never feel the same way.”

He doesn’t know what to do. You’re right, he doesn’t feel the same way. He doesn’t like you the way you like him. At least he thinks he doesn’t. He stays quiet, his fists clenching.

“I don’t want to ignore you, Rafe,” You continue. “But maybe this distance will be good for us. I’ll be able to get over you.”

“You shouldn’t have fallen for me in the first place.” He snaps.

It takes you by surprise. Your eyes flutter for a second as tears start to fall, and you take a step back, chest clenching.

He stares at you, his stomach lurching as the first of the tears roll down your face. He stays silent for a moment, before finally sighing. “It’s not supposed to be this way,” He walks towards you again, reaching out to take both of your hands, trying to stop you from backing away from him. “You’re supposed to be my best friend, not some girl in love with me.”

“I’m sorry.” You say.

“Stop apologising,” He says, holding your wrists tightly, like he’s trying to keep you in place. “I hate it when you do that.”

You almost apologise again. You just nod, looking down at your feet before moving your gaze back over to the pool. No one has noticed you two yet.

He follows your gaze, looking towards the pool. No one had even spared a glance in your direction. It was just you and him, secluded in the quiet corner, surrounded by a party that seemed a mile away. He doesn’t know what to say, or how to react to your confession. All he knows is that he still hates seeing you cry.

“Do you still want to be friends?” You ask quietly, looking up at him.

Rafe hesitates. 

His first instinct is to push you away. To tell you that it would be best if you two just never spoke to each other again, that things would be better that way. But he knew he didn’t mean that. And when he looked down at you, seeing the heartbreak on your face, he knew he couldn’t say it. He wasn’t the best at expressing his feelings, and he had no idea what he was doing, but you were his oldest friend. You had been by his side through everything. There was no way he was pushing you away that easily.

He pulls you into a hug, pressing his nose into the crown of your head. “Of course, I still want to be friends,” he murmurs. “You’re my best friend, you idiot.”

You hug him back, and it feels so good to finally hold him again. You interlock your fingers behind his back. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” he mutters, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Stop apologising.” He stays silent for a moment, soaking in the feeling of being able to hold you again. He had missed this. He had missed you more than he had ever realised.

You stay there for a while, nose buried in his chest, before you speak again. Your voice is quiet, muffled against his jacket, but he can hear you loud and clear. “I love you.”

Rafe sighs, pushing your hair away from your forehead before placing a kiss on it. “It’ll pass.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part two is here!

★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @teenwolfbitches28, @dasia21, @drewsphswife, @gilwm, @watchmerora, @odairtrqsh, @wearemadeofstardust0, @rafesbabygirlx, @slumnit, @babygirlwilly, @rafeyswife, @maybanksgirl69, @evermorx89, @ivy-34, @marlenee3e, @koibleufish (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)

join my permanent obx taglist here!

[moonlinos]

Don’t let me love you (Siren part II)

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Camboy!Hyunjin, friends with benefits to lovers

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), sex work, mentions of smoking, drinking, oral sex (female receiving), orgasm delay/denial, sex toys, marking, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, choking (only a little tho)

♡ Word count: 15.7k

♡ Synopsis: Hyunjin has been a camboy since he turned eighteen and a host since the age of twenty. His life and line of work had him building up a fortress of walls to keep himself safe, but he’s powerless as he watches you unknowingly break them down. Although he knows you deserve better than him, he battles with a selfish desire that wants nothing more than to allow himself to love you.

♡ A/N: Part two of what was supposed to be a one-shot, but people made my brain think things and I wrote 15.7K WORDS. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people actually wanted a part two of something I wrote, so I wanna say thank you 🩷

← part I

Your situation with Hyunjin has been going on for almost eight months now.

Some things have changed; he’s undoubtedly more clingy with you, and you started hanging out with no intentions of having sex. What remains unchanged, however, is the fact that he’s still the same old egotistical idiot.

The thing is, you somehow grew to like that about him. It’s amusing to you just how much he loves himself, gloating about his conquests at the club or bragging about maintaining his number-one spot on the camming website. Although this only makes you even more certain you would never entertain the idea of being with someone like him, having the man who makes you come so hard also make you laugh just as much is a nice bonus.

Hyunjin began coming over to your apartment around two months ago, gradually wearing down your resistance with a lot of pestering until you finally let him in. Your home was almost sacred to you. Hooking up in his apartment was one thing, doing that in the familiarity of your home made it feel almost too intimate. You’ve fucked on the couch, on the kitchen counter, in the shower, but you never allow him into your bedroom. You’re not entirely sure why, but it would feel as if you were tainting your favorite place if he were to fuck you in your bed.

You’re getting ready for a date in your bathroom with Hyunjin sitting on the floor behind you, claiming the view of your ass from that angle was optimal. He lets out a loud chuckle as he watches you dab yet another layer of concealer on the hickey he left on your collarbone earlier tonight.

“Fuck off,” you snap at him. “You think this is funny?”

“Well, yeah, ‘cause it is,” he simply says, and you see him shrugging in the mirror, a grin tugging at one corner of his lip.

Hyunjin has the maddening habit of marking you. Although you told him numerous times how much you hate it, he conveniently ignores that when you have sex, and you’re always too clouded by lust to say anything about it.

“What are you doing on your livestream tonight?” You ask after finally making the small, red blotch on your skin imperceptible.

Watching Hyunjin cam has become your go-to de-stressing method after work. Sitting in a corner far away from the camera, you watch him do his job with ease, like it’s second nature to him. It’s almost intoxicating how he seems to always know what to say to get his viewers going, knowing exactly when to be mean and when to play the role of a caring boyfriend. It makes you clench around nothing, hungrily watching as he makes himself come all over his stomach so deliciously it has you eager to be fucked as soon as he’s done.

He hums. “Well, they really seemed to like the toys I tried last weekend, so I guess that’s what I’m doing for the next few weeks.”

“Ooh, so you’re sticking to the toys now,” you tease him with a grin.

Last Saturday, you watched as Hyunjin opened fan gifts he had received in his PO box during his livestream. Some were extremely questionable (if you had a nickel for every time he pulled out used panties from a box, you’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice), while some were exactly what you would expect to be sent to a camboy. A variety of BDSM gear, kinky costumes fans wanted him to wear, and of course, a lot of sex toys.

Hyunjin shrugs again, leaning on his left hand and staring up at you through the mirror. “I kinda have to do whatever my viewers want to keep my number one ranking.”

“And are you going to the club tonight?”

“Nah,” he yawns and rests his head against the wall. “Took the day off. My spot there is secured,” his lips upturn into a grin. “No other guy at that club can compete with me.”

That’s another thing you learned about Hyunjin these past months; his club and website rankings are extremely important to him. You also learned he has an Only Fans account on the side where he shares videos and pictures of himself, and he pesters you about making any type of content with him every couple of weeks. You were tempted after seeing the enticing amount of money that was in it for you, but your decision was unswayed.

Your confidence wasn’t like his. You’re sure having your performance and appearance scrutinized by strangers would make you go insane.

Nonetheless, you struggle to conceal your jealousy toward Hyunjin’s jobs, as they seem so damn perfect in your eyes. How great would it be if you could essentially work only when you felt like it? Not to mention the fact that both his jobs are basically having orgasms and looking pretty, which certainly seems heavenly when compared to your headache-inducing corporate job.

He even delayed the starting time of his livestream tonight for the sole purpose of tormenting you while you get ready.

Jihoon is your first proper date in almost a year, as you only allowed yourself the luxury of dating after getting the promotion you were working for. He’s in your company’s finance department, and you two have been casually flirting for three months. You tried your best to ignore him for a couple of weeks, but not only was he ridiculously good-looking, he was also the breathing definition of boyfriend material. He was kind, holding doors open and helping other workers carry heavy boxes with a smile on his face. He was caring, always arriving at the office with coffee for his coworkers, having memorized everyone’s order.

Not to mention the whispered rumors that echoed through the hallways of the ninth floor. Your friend, who had recently moved into the finance department, shared them with you after a drunken night out. Jihoon was apparently amazing in bed, all while being a perfect gentleman. The perfect blend of rough and sweet, and never one to kiss and tell — all these rumors apparently coming from women in his department who had dated him and couldn’t keep themselves from gushing about their unforgettable experience with him.

But it would be a lie to say you were excited about this date because of him.

It was the prospect of how much this could vex Hyunjin that really got you eager.

A couple of nights ago, you joked with Hyunjin about how Jihoon was the complete antithesis of him, hence why he was the ideal candidate for a boyfriend. Hyunjin’s reaction was exactly what you anticipated, with him becoming visibly annoyed and grumbling about how Jihoon probably talks a big game but does the bare minimum in bed.

You simply laughed because the mere thought that another man could be just as good, if not better, than him in bed was what ticked Hyunjin off. Never mind that you said Jihoon was perfect because he was everything he was not.

“You know,” Hyunjin suddenly says, “We should make a bet.”

And you hesitate for a beat and a half because you know Hyunjin.

Still, you sigh and answer, “Sure. What kind of bet?”

“If this guy is really that good in bed, then I’ll pay for your next date myself,” he vows, his smirk only growing as you turn to look at him through the mirror. “If he’s average, you go on a date with me.”

You silently look at him for a few seconds before laughter bursts out of you.

“Hyunjin, do you fucking hate me?” You ask, turning your body toward him. “I get shitty sex then have to endure a date with you?”

He shrugs, rising to stand in front of you. “This just proved to me how much faith you have in your date,” he calmly says. He then leans into you, caging you against the countertop, hands beside your body. Hyunjin bends his face to yours, his breath tickling your skin as he speaks, “Just admit you know no guy will ever be a better fuck than me.”

You scoff at his arrogance, pushing him until his back hits the wall.

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Hyunjin follows you when you leave the bathroom to grab your purse in the living room, loudly clicking his tongue behind you.

“Why’d you dress up for him?” He huffs, and you turn to look at him with a raised brow. “This fucking short dress and shit.” He rakes his eyes over your body from head to toe, tugging at his bottom lip. “I should make you dress up for me, too. You look hot.”

By now, you’ve learned that the best course of action to follow when dealing with Hyunjin’s monumental ego is to ignore it altogether. It’s also quite entertaining to purposefully give him answers you know will vex him, so you sweetly smile at him.

“Thank you,” you beam, your fingers toying with the hem of your short dress, pulling up the fabric. “Hopefully Jihoon thinks the same.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, curling an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his body. He harshly presses his lips to yours, undoubtedly smudging your lipstick. His tongue pushes past your lips, brushing against your own. It’s almost like an act of possessiveness — leaving his taste on your tongue before you go off to your date with another man.

He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you even closer. But just as you’re getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the sound of your doorbell echoes through the room, and your eyes widen. Pulling away, you promptly push Hyunjin back and wipe the corners of your mouth. You stifle a chuckle when your eyes land on his face; red lipstick smudged all over his lips.

“Stay in the bathroom until I leave,” you tell him while grabbing your purse from the couch. He rolls his eyes again, this time with a scowl contorting his features.

You smile at Jihoon when you open your door. Barely giving him the chance to say hello, you hurry him toward the elevator, reminding him of your reservation. You know Hyunjin, and you wouldn’t put it past him to show up behind you simply to stir up some drama.

But that’s the thing; you know Hyunjin, yet you still choose to stay in this strange arrangement with him. Because it’s the fact that you know him, for some reason you’re unsure of yourself, that makes you actually like him a little bit.

Hyunjin ends his livestream as usual, saying goodnight with a promise of seeing his viewers again tomorrow night. He never acknowledges tips and addresses no one by their name or username. Some cammers wear masks to conceal their identities — this cavalier persona, uncaring and nonchalant, is Hyunjin’s mask.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he goes on to do the arduous task of cleaning up the fleshlight he used tonight. It was a gift from a viewer, who begged him — with quite a lot of tips — to use it for her. What was initially meant to be a one-time thing has now become his new routine, as his viewers couldn’t get enough of it.

Hyunjin hates this part of his camming job: the incessant need to please the people who watch him, lest they abandon him and move on to a new cammer. He doesn’t mind the sex toys — although cleaning them makes him want to throw his entire collection out the window — but he’s had to do a lot of shit he really didn’t want to, all in the name of maintaining his number one spot.

He was eighteen when he first started. In desperate need of money after moving out of home for college, one of his friends suggested he sell his nudes to people around campus. When Hyunjin scowled and asked why the fuck that was his first and only suggestion, the boy laughed. He remembers his words to this day:

“Hyunjin, you know you don’t really have anything else other than your looks. Your grades are shit, and you’re lazy as fuck. This is pretty much the only way you can ever make money.”

And by that age, that was nothing new to Hyunjin, as he had heard different variations of that same speech his entire life. When he was a child, his parents urged him to become an idol or a model, going so far as to motivate him to ignore his schoolwork to attend auditions (even when he whined about how much he hated them). 

His mother always said his face had the power to make people love him while studying would only lead to success.

“It’s much better to be loved, Hyunjin,” she told him when he was ten. “Anyone can reach success if they try hard enough, but being loved is a privilege only special people can have.”

By his late teens, when his reputation began to precede him after countless hookups during high school, his friends assured him he could make a lot of money off of sex.

Either way, the consensus was always that the only thing Hyunjin had to offer were his looks and body.

At first, he hated it. He wanted nothing more than to be appreciated for anything other than what his face looked like, or how good he was in bed. He got his grades up, excelled in hobbies he actually liked, and even set goals for himself after college. But Hyunjin never heard a word of praise from his parents, and his friends were always more interested in who he was hooking up with than how he got to the top of his class. After a while, he realized he was simply fighting a losing battle.

So he accepted that truth, because it couldn’t hurt him if he were the one to incentivize it.

That was why he decided to follow his friend’s asinine suggestion.

His first endeavor was with simple videos of himself jerking off in front of his mirror, the shitty camera of his phone certainly hindering his attempt at making the whole thing pleasing to the eyes. He would promote them through text messages to acquaintances he’d met at parties at first, later creating a Twitter account dedicated solely to selling these videos. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was certainly more than his friends made while working monotonous shifts at coffee shops.

Only four months later, he coincidentally entered the world of camming through a girl he had been hooking up with.

They were in her bedroom, just about to have sex, when she giggled against his lips and told him she could make a lot of money if he fucked her during one of her livestreams. He said he could make a lot of money if she let him record them fucking.

They ultimately reached an agreement, and Hyunjin appeared on his first-ever livestream that same night — a mask covering both their faces and the money made split evenly between them.

He recalls how his eyes were glued to her computer screen the entire time. He was used to praises and compliments, but there was something different about having a stranger openly say they’d do anything to be in that girl’s place, that they would pay to have him fuck them, or even something as simple as telling Hyunjin how good he was. It had a rush of euphoria cursing through his veins.

It was as if, for the first time in his life, he had found something he was truly good at, something that he was entirely in control of. He was a natural, and he enjoyed every moment of it, easily slipping into the persona he wears to this day.

He got drunk on that validation and was desperate to have it again.

After that night, he created his own account, with many of his hookup’s viewers following him immediately. He dropped out of college soon after he started, as the money he made from camming along with selling his content on Only Fans already exceeded the estimated salary in his field of study.

Hyunjin was good, and he loved being good. Most importantly, he loved knowing he was good.

That’s why he simply ignores the few times he’s had to do things he wasn’t all that keen on doing. Because at the end of the day, that’s the only thing he’s good at — pleasing people, no matter the cost.

After a long shower, Hyunjin walks back into his room and sinks into his bed. He’s glad he took the day off from his job at the club since a viewer tipped him $300 to edge himself for as long as he could tonight. After an hour of that, the only thing he wants is to curl up in bed and sleep for hours.

He buries himself under his blankets, but just as his eyes flutter closed, the sound of laughter echoes through his room. Your laughter.

He sits up in bed almost immediately, a grin etched onto his lips. He still remembers the day he found out his walls were paper thin; the day you touched yourself while he was streaming. He knew you were so sure you had been quiet — only letting out small whimpers and sighs — but he heard you regardless, and your pretty noises made it even easier for him to come that night. He initially assumed you were simply masturbating, but when you came knocking at his door the very next day to complain about how noisy he was, he knew you were touching yourself to the sound of his voice.

Hyunjin has fucked many women in his life, but for that silly fact alone, none piqued his interest quite like you did.

He rests his back against the headboard, ready to listen to you complain on the phone to some friend, grumbling about how fucking awful your date had been. But a masculine voice suddenly permeates through the wall, filling his room with the sound of your date’s obnoxious laughter.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” he slurs, clearly a bit tipsy.

“Me too,” you giggle, and Hyunjin’s face twists into a scowl. Since when do you giggle like that?

He hastily yanks the covers off his body, rushing to settle into his computer chair in a shameless effort to hear your conversation more clearly.

“Sorry I laughed when you spilled your drink on your dress,” the guy — whose name Hyunjin frankly didn’t care enough to memorize — apologizes before adding, “Do I make you that nervous?”

And it’s like Hyunjin can hear the smirk in the man’s voice. Why the fuck must this annoy him so much? Couldn’t you go back to his place to fuck? Maybe you’re pissed at him over the bet, and this is a desperate attempt to prove you’re right. He scoffs, running a hand through his hair before reclining on the chair.

Just means you’ll be having mediocre sex while he listens.

“Of course I was nervous,” you reply. “Look at you, this shirt’s been driving me crazy since you picked me up.”

The man snickers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you state matter-of-factly, “Kept looking at your arms the entire night. Couldn’t think straight,” your voice drops to a whisper, and Hyunjin could recognize the alluring lilt that envelops your voice from a mile away.

You use it with him almost every night.

Your date hums. “Oh, you like my arms?”

And Hyunjin can just picture the man flexing his muscles. What a fucking idiot.

His room is filled with the creaking sound of your bed, and he physically cringes. He can’t believe you’re really gonna make him listen to you fuck another guy. He especially can’t believe you so easily let this fucker into your bedroom. Hyunjin has known you for eight months, and you still adamantly insist that your bedroom is off-limits.

Maybe this is his long-overdue punishment for making you lose sleep for a month.

Your room suddenly falls into an odd stillness. All Hyunjin can do is sit in the dark, consumed by the incessant ticking of his clock, unable to tear his gaze away from the wall in front of him. His mind becomes his own worst enemy, flooding his imagination with vivid images of you laid out underneath this man, his arms you seemingly love so much caging you between the mattress and his body while his lips explore every inch of your skin. Or maybe you’re on top, rolling your hips in that slow, tantalizing rhythm that drives Hyunjin mad while looking at him with lust-clouded eyes.

The sound of you softly whimpering shakes him out of his thoughts, and Hyunjin subconsciously clenches his fists. Despite hearing the guy talk to you again, all he makes out is a jumble of garbled, muffled sounds.

He isn’t sure how long he stays there, eyes boring holes into the wall until his vision goes blurry and gnawing on his lips until he tears at the delicate skin. His ears sting with the sound of your bed frame hitting your shared wall, and your sighs and moans he loves so much only seem to mock him.

When the sardonic symphony eventually fades into silence, Hyunjin remains where he is. He feels powerless; he can’t stop how his heart weighs heavy in his chest or do anything but feel the scorching flame of anger searing his veins.

He’s memorized your date’s name by now — Jihoon, as your voice repeatedly called out.

For the first time in so long, Hyunjin was no longer in control.

Hyunjin struggles to conceal his annoyance when you show up at his door the next day as if nothing had happened. The hickey he gave you no longer being concealed by makeup and your ever-present grin only added to his aggravation, as if you were relishing in his agony. He wants nothing more than to fuck that smug grin off your pretty lips, but he can’t bring himself to touch you. Not when his ego is bruised by how easily another man could please you.

After all, that was all Hyunjin had to offer. Why were you even here in the first place? If you had already found someone else to fuck you, he had nothing more to give you.

Sitting on his couch, Hyunjin’s frustration gets the best of him, and he’s the first to break the silence.

“I don’t even gotta ask if you had a good time last night,” he sneers, and you stifle a chuckle, trying but ultimately failing to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, the restaurant was nice.”

Hyunjin can’t contain the scoff that escapes his lips, his mouth curling in disdain. “You know damn well I’m not talking about the restaurant.”

You cock your head to the side, brows knitting together as you put on your best act of naivety.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean?” You ask, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Hyunjin is pushing your body onto the couch before he realizes what he’s doing, the rage he felt last night no longer laying dormant in his bloodstream. He cages you against the cushions, his hands resting beside your body. You instinctively spread your thighs to accommodate him.

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?” He asks, bending his face to yours. You shrug with a contented sigh, lifting your arms to wrap around his back.

Hyunjin scoffs, and you let out a yelp as he abruptly hoists your legs over his shoulders, fingertips digging into the flesh of your thighs. He leans down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth but pulls away before you can register to kiss him back, leaving you to chase after his touch.

“Is this how he fucked you?” He asks with a hum, his lips hovering mere inches above yours. His hold on your thighs becomes bruisingly tight as he waits for your answer. “Hm? Did he fuck you good?”

“We were both tipsy,” you murmur, breath hitching as he pushes his hardening member against your clothed core. “It was okay.”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and Hyunjin mockingly pouts. “So he wasn’t the sex god you were promised, baby?”

You roll your eyes. “I just said it was okay.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, his gaze transfixed by the way your eyes look up at him while you subtly roll your hips up into him. He’s not stupid, he knows the reason why you have such an infuriating effect on him. He’s never going to be good enough for you outside of being a good fuck, yet he feels a blooming yearning inside of his chest that makes him selfishly want to keep you to himself. Even if he has nothing else to offer you.

So he chooses to swallow his pride, just this once, to prove to you why you should choose to stay and stop searching for pleasure in other men — because Hyunjin knows you will find much more than that in them. Much more than what he has.

“‘Okay’ isn’t what you deserve,” He tuts, his mind slowly fogging over with desire as you roll your hips harder against his length. “Isn’t what you’re used to after all these months, is it? Hm?” He urges, raising a hand to lightly brush against your jaw before gripping it. “Answer me.”

Hyunjin knows you’re struggling not to give in; that’s one of his favorite things about having sex with you. The push and pull, how you try so hard to act tough and unbothered but ultimately melt under his touch every time. Even so, he was only able to truly break you for the first time a couple of months ago. You’re obstinate, he’ll give you that.

You shrug again, and he knows it’s the only answer he’ll get from you for now.

“Are you gonna see him again?” He asks instead.

You let out a quiet sigh as Hyunjin lazily grazes your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t think so.”

“Yeah?” He asks, arching a brow almost knowingly. “I can’t help but think you only brought him home to make me listen to you.”

And you giggle at that. The same overly sweet, coy giggle Hyunjin heard through his wall last night.

“I guess you’ll never know,” you simply answer, running a hand through his hair and lightly gripping a fistful while your eyes flicker down to his lips.

Hyunjin wastes no more time talking to you — he knows your conversations usually lead nowhere. He crashes his lips into yours, fingers gripping your jaw once more and forcing your lips open, his tongue slipping inside your mouth. You whimper into the kiss, a sound he knows slipped past your lips unwittingly. Your tongue swirls against his, and he savors your taste with a low hum.

You tilt your hips up, chasing after him again and whining when Hyunjin moves out of reach. He smiles.

“You want me to give you what you’re used to?” He asks against your lips, and you’re quick to nod. “So fucking greedy, made me listen to you get fucked last night only to come running back to me.” He slides his hands under your ass and picks you up effortlessly, carrying you toward his bedroom with an exasperated sigh. “Would’ve been easier if you just admitted no guy will ever be as good as me, wouldn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, but your words are cut short as Hyunjin throws you onto his bed and promptly walks to his wardrobe. “At least Jihoon got to it quick. I’m not one of your viewers, I don’t care much for your chatter.”

Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh, retrieving a small blue box from among his clothes and sitting at the edge of the bed. “He got to it quick? Is that your way of telling me your date was a one-minute man?”

You open your mouth as if you’re ready to refute him but ultimately close it and cross your arms over your chest, willing him to do something. Hyunjin stifles another laugh.

“Good thing you have me, then,” He mutters, the goading lilt to his voice impossible to disguise. Placing the box on his nightstand, he hovers over your body once again. “I got all these toys, and we never got around to playing with them together.”

You visibly shudder, nodding slowly as Hyunjin looms over you. He slots your lips together once more, this time much more softly. Your tongue lightly brushes against his bottom lip, licking into his mouth as your thighs wrap around his hips, hooking your ankles behind him and drawing his body flush against yours.

With each languid and deliberate stroke of his tongue, Hyunjin revels in the way he can feel you grow more impatient, tugging at the fabric of his shirt and rutting your hips against his. His hands slip under the hem of your shirt to grip your waist, easing your movements. The way his cock strains against his sweatpants becomes impossible to ignore as his hard length presses against your warm core harder and harder with each roll of your hips. 

Hyunjin’s hand glides from your waist to your stomach, caressing your skin before finding its way to your cunt, fingers harshly pressing against your clothed wetness. You whimper into the kiss as he lazily circles your clit over the fabric of your shorts.

“Let’s make a deal,” Hyunjin whispers as he pulls away. “You admit I’m the best fuck you’re ever gonna have, and I might let you come.”

He punctuates his words with a firm press of his fingers to your clit, and he can visibly see your resolve crumbling before him, but you still force out an indignant huff.

“In your dreams,” you shakily breathe out.

Hyunjin shrugs, his fingers leaving your core and traveling over the expanse of your stomach. He promptly rids you of your shirt, and you hiss as his hands brush against your sensitive nipples, Hyunjin watching as they immediately stiffen in response.

Your habit of not wearing a bra nearly drives Hyunjin insane — even on the first day you came knocking at his door, he remembers having to fight the urge to glance down at the way your nipples peaked beneath the fabric of your white shirt.

You’ve been driving him crazy since you walked into his line of sight.

Hyunjin lightly massages your breasts before grazing your hardened nipples with his thumbs, swiftly sucking one into his mouth, causing sighs to spill from your lips as your hand tangled in his hair. He flicks the stiff bud with his tongue before grazing his teeth over it, and you roughly tug at his roots. He smiles against your skin, nudging the peak of your nipples with his lips and sighing.

“Say it,” he calmly tells you, but your only response is tugging harder at his hair. “You’re so stubborn,” He chides, tugging his shirt over his head. “I told you, you’re only coming if you fucking admit it.”

He slowly moves onto the foot of the bed, his hands roaming along your legs with featherlight touches. He places wet kisses from your stomach to your inner thighs, sucking lightly at the skin until his lips hovered tantalizingly close to your still-clothed, aching cunt. And then he stops, instead pressing a kiss to your hips.

“Hyunjin,” his name falls from your lips as a breathy whine. He looks up to find your gaze already on him, eyes silently pleading. He grins, thumbs drawing circles on your inner thighs as you push your hips into his face, but he promptly pulls away. “Please,” you finally whisper, although barely audibly. 

Hyunjin hums, satisfied, pressing a wet kiss to your core through the fabric of your shorts before sliding them down your legs along with your panties. He hisses through his teeth at the sight of your wetness, thumbs gliding up and down your folds before spreading you before him. His tongue immediately pokes out to travel up your slit before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit, sucking harshly, and your hand soon flies to rest on his head.

He lifts his eyes once more, humming against your folds as he finds your head rolled back onto his pillows, lips falling open as you softly mewl. He could listen to your sweet sounds all night, reveling in the way every flick of his tongue made you become louder and louder until you were all but screaming his name.

But he has to teach you a lesson tonight.

His tongue delves deep into you, gliding against your slick inner walls, causing even more arousal to flood his lips. His eyes flutter closed with a pleased hum, lapping up every drop of your wetness.

“Fuck,” you rasp, and Hyunjin knows you’re close.

With a wicked grin, he slips two fingers into your warm cunt, curling them just the way you love while his tongue expertly circles your clit. When you roll your hips against his lips, yanking his head toward your body, Hyunjin pulls away.

He watches as your eyes shoot open and you frown at him, but he simply grins, thumb wiping at his glistening mouth before slipping the digit into your agape lips.

“Say it,” he repeats, unrelenting, and stifles a laugh when you groan loudly.

You hook a leg around his waist, bringing his body close to yours again, the heat of his thick cock pressing against your soaked cunt. Hyunjin sucks in a breath, focusing on reining in his emotions, determined not to let you win. His mind is already completely clouded with lust, desperate to fuck you into the mattress, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction of watching him give in to you.

He bends his face to yours, gasping out a curse as he watches the way you swirl your tongue around his finger with a hum, lazily sucking it while maintaining your eyes locked onto his. He presses the pad of his thumb down onto your tongue, and your lips obediently fall open before upturning into a taunting smile.

You still think you’re in control.

Hyunjin shakes his head, his resolve coming back to him.

His fingers fall from your tongue, and he presses his lips against yours. You melt into the kiss, hands traveling down the expanse of Hyunjin’s abdomen, then back up to wrap around his broad shoulders. He lets you do as you please, rummaging through his box until his fingers brush against what he’s looking for. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, ultimately distracting you, and you let out a small whimper, which grows into a loud groan as he presses the blunt tip of the massaging wand to your clit and switches it to the medium setting.

“What the fuck,” You all but growl into his lips, and Hyunjin hums.

“Does it feel good, baby?”

You let out a shuddering sigh. “T-Too much,” you whimper, hands scrambling for Hyunjin’s arms in an attempt to ground yourself, but ultimately clawing at his bedsheets.

He glides the wand along your drenched folds, moving up and down, eyes transfixed on the way your arousal drips out of you and coats the toy. Your entire body jolts when he harshly presses the vibrating tip directly onto your clit. He could come just by watching you squirm underneath him, loud groans falling from your lips. How he wished Jihoon could be in your room, listening to how beautiful you sound when you’re actually being taken care of properly.

Hyunjin feels his cock twitch every time your body shudders, trying to escape the relentless vibrations, sticky precum gathering in his sweatpants and increasing his discomfort. He desperately wants to fuck you.

With a low grunt, he leans in closer to you, pinning your arm to your side and flicking his wrist as he presses down harder on your swollen clit.

“Got no idea how pretty you sound, do you?” He hisses, “If only you weren’t such a fucking brat and just — fuck.”

His words dissipate when your free hand wiggles between your bodies and pulls down his sweatpants, freeing his cock. Your fingers immediately wrap around his length, squeezing him tightly before frantically stroking him. The sounds that echoed through the room were lewd, unmistakable evidences of both your arousals.

Hyunjin pulls the wand from your clit, turning down the vibrations and letting it rest against one of your peaked nipples while he grips his cock in his fist, the swollen tip prodding at your entrance, just barely pushing in. You whimper loudly, clutching his arm, fingernails digging crescent moons into his pale skin.

“Come on,” he growls, cock now gliding up and down your slit. “I know you wanna come, just fucking say it.”

But you’re unrelenting, staring into his eyes and weakly shaking your head.

Hyunjin stops his movements altogether, his shaft nestled against your soaking cunt, the head of his cock resting heavily on your clit. He presses the wand down onto his length, increasing the intensity to the highest setting. A loud, broken moan falls from your throat as your shaky hands grip his wrist, your back arching off the bed. You try to push the toy away, but Hyunjin’s free hand wraps around your neck, effortlessly pinning your pliant body down onto the mattress.

He presses his forehead to yours, his sweat dripping down onto your breasts as he fights off his orgasm.

“Fucking say it,” he hisses, tears gathering in your lashes. The unyielding vibrations from the wand traveling through his cock and going straight onto your clit, coupled with the way his hand tightens around your throat, finally have every bit of your resolve crumbling.

“You,” you choke out, “Best fuck I’ll ever fucking have, Hyunjin, god — I wanna come, please.”

Hyunjin feels satisfaction enveloping his entire being, and the pleasure intensifies tenfold, his cock twitching and a low groan reverberating from the depths of his chest.

“Come for me, baby,” he breathes out, giving your neck one last squeeze, and your climax erupts from you with a loud cry. As your entire body convulses and your head tilts back, Hyunjin can feel your release coating his cock before dripping onto the sheets below.

As you struggle to catch your breath, your grip on his wrist tightens and your body squirms away from the vibrations, but Hyunjin only presses down harder, seeking his own release. He soon comes with a sigh, eyebrows scrunching together, his cum landing all over your cunt.

He turns off the vibrator, labored breaths mixing with yours as you two come down from your highs.

“You’re fucking insane,” you chuckle after a beat.

And Hyunjin’s lips stretch into a lazy smile. “And you owe me a date.”

You were reluctant at first, having assumed it was simply Hyunjin’s ego talking that night, only teasing you because you were going on a date with someone else when he proposed that odd bet. However, you eventually found out he wasn’t at all joking and actually wanted his ‘prize’ — as he called it — for winning the bet.

Figuring out a date was an aggravating task, given that Hyunjin worked on weekends and you worked on weekdays. You told him numerous times to just let it go; you could simply hang out in his apartment like you usually did and call it a date. It wasn’t anything serious, just another one of his whims.

But Hyunjin’s persistence was unwavering, and he settled for taking yet another day off and canceling his livestream altogether so he could take you out on a Saturday.

Although you weren’t looking forward to it at first, you unknowingly smiled whenever you saw the day marked on your calendar alongside your endless work assignments. It was ridiculous, and you wouldn’t admit it to him, but deep down, you were actually excited about this date. You wanted to know what it’s like to have a conversation that doesn’t end in you two bickering, wanted to know what it feels like to hang out with him without the thought of fucking looming over your heads.

You were strangely excited to get to know Hyunjin outside the four walls of your apartments.

But the Sunday before your date, disappointment washed over you like a cold bucket of water when Hyunjin told you he had to cancel.

What did you expect? You knew Hyunjin. This should’ve been the obvious outcome from the start, but you were stupid and allowed yourself to be swept away by a hope that proved too good to be true.

He waited until he finished his livestream to tell you — as if canceling less than a week before wasn’t already bad enough. Your irritation reached its peak as you sat in his bed and listened to him insist it wasn’t his fault.

“One of the other hosts had a family emergency so he’ll be gone for two weekends,” he explained, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his words. Family emergency. Of course.

“Hyunjin, you say that like you don’t take countless days off with no issues,” you refuted, and his frown deepened while he shook his head.

Just say you don’t wanna go on this stupid date.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s not like that. We have rules to follow,” he insisted. “Only one host can be absent at a time. I don’t have a valid reason for bailing on Saturday, so I’m forced to go.”

“Or you’ll lose your precious number one spot?”

“Or I’ll lose my fucking job.”

And you simply shrugged as you ultimately realized that was yet another pointless conversation between you. You then went on to have sex, as you always did when confronted with the threat of a serious conversation, and the topic was forgotten.

At least by Hyunjin.

You spend the next days avoiding him to the best of your abilities. Deep down, you know you’re behaving like a child, but the way you allowed yourself to get excited over something as stupid as a date with him still makes you feel pathetic. It’s impossible not to feel like he raised your hopes only for the pleasure of shutting you down. All because you went out with someone else, and you know that was a blow to his ego.

You two have never been anything more than friends who hook up — and even using that term feels almost comical, seeing as you two can’t have a conversation without it turning into a petty argument or an ego battle — but his insistence on this date, and your own eagerness seemed to hint at something more.

Clearly, you were mistaken.

You brought Jihoon back to your apartment hoping to have mind-blowing sex after a nice date. Plus, you knew Hyunjin would hear you, and you terribly wanted to deflate his ego. A win-win situation in your book. Instead, you had mediocre sex at best. Jihoon skipped foreplay entirely, simply pounded into you, and finished far too quickly while leaving you hanging.

Maybe he was too tipsy to perform well, or maybe the women in your office are living in a depressing reality where a guy’s ability to find the clitoris means he’s a god among men. Either way, even after putting on your best performance, Hyunjin still saw right through you.

And the worst part is, even you can’t explain why you did that. Your mind argues it was all for the pleasure of vexing him; he’s been annoying you since he first moved in next door, after all. But your heart is quick to jump in with a list of facts and reasons why that can’t be the case — all while presenting some valid arguments that lead you to believe you might like Hyunjin more than originally planned.

But he was still Hyunjin at the end of the day. Your egotistical idiot neighbor whose fragile ego you hurt, so he’s retaliating.

After three days of successfully ignoring Hyunjin, one of your friends at work makes all your work crumble with a single phrase.

“I can’t believe we still haven’t gone back to The Siren,” she grumbled during lunch, and you stabbed an innocent piece of broccoli with your fork.

That was all it took to ignite your curiosity.

You sit at your desk later in the day and look up that damn club, telling yourself you simply want to find out why your friends are so desperate to go there. This has nothing to do with Hyunjin.

Upon entering their website, you realize The Siren wasn’t a nightclub as you had imagined; it’s an elegant lounge with a lavish-looking bar you’re sure charged $5 for a bottle of water. As you read the club’s About Us page, the entrance fee almost has you choking on your coffee, despite it being expected for such a place. Among several rules, one catches your eye:

The club allows a maximum of twenty attendees per night, offering a choice of twenty-five hosts.

You gnaw on your bottom lip at the realization that perhaps Hyunjin wasn’t lying, and that was the reason only one host could be absent at a time.

Eventually, you find your way to the Hosts section of the website. You’re a bit taken aback by how these men are presented as amenities, like products displayed at an online shop, with nothing but their names and a picture along with their price.

They’re divided into tiers: gold, emerald, and platinum. Hosts in the gold tier are younger, most likely having just started on the job, and their prices are the most affordable. The emerald tier is more expensive, with some hosts who look old enough to be your father. The disturbing realization dawns on you that these men’s values diminish as they age.

On the platinum tier, only five hosts are displayed, and you blanch at each of their unique prices. Hyunjin is the most expensive, at $500, excluding extra fees. You click on his black and white picture, and a myriad of photos of Hyunjin flood your screen. You’re struck by how different he looks in these shots; his styled hair and impeccably tailored suits look nothing like the man you see at your apartments every day, lounging around in sweatpants and loose t-shirts.

A description sits at the top of the page, short but still enough to make you grimace. 

Hyunjin has held our club’s esteemed number-one position for two consecutive years now, and rightfully so. Complementing his striking good looks is an alluring personality that will make you feel cherished throughout the evening. His undivided attention will undoubtedly meet your satisfaction, and his additional services will leave you breathless.

You aren’t sure what you were expecting — you were already aware of the nature of Hyunjin’s job as a host — but the club’s portrayal of these people as mere products leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your curiosity has morphed into frustration as you return to the homepage, but a message catches your eye just as you’re about to exit the website. Three spots are now available for Saturday night due to the absence of one of their hosts. And before you can even process your actions, you’ve already booked these spots for you and two friends.

Thank you for choosing to unwind at The Siren! We will contact you individually regarding further details, including host orders.

Host orders? That is enough to make you close the website.

You can’t believe you’re going to do this. You know for a fact Hyunjin will be upset, but you can’t bring yourself to care. If he wants to toy with your emotions, you have every right to show up at this club.

You wait for Hyunjin to leave for work to get ready on Saturday. You weren’t able to avoid him this afternoon and spent the day lazying around in your apartment, binge-watching some new reality TV show he’s obsessed with.

You expected Hana and Naeun to eat you alive for buying tickets to this overpriced club without consulting them first, but their excitement overshadowed any anger they had. You also played up your excitement, although, by the time your shift had ended, you mostly felt regret for spending all that money purely out of spite.

The email you received explains The Siren has a strict dress code, not allowing any client in unless they’re dressed to their standards.

The patrons are required to match our club’s overall atmosphere.

You rolled your eyes. At least their arrogance fit their ostentatious price.

As you skim through their several other rules, you find out that booking a host isn’t mandatory, and often, hosts will seek out patrons themselves if they’re free for the night.

Be prepared to be approached by one of our available hosts at any given moment. Should you be fortunate enough to capture their attention, that is.

Among the rules, you’re also explicitly told that tipping the hosts anything beyond their set prices is strictly forbidden. The more you learned about this club, the more you struggled to understand why Hyunjin held it in such high esteem.

You bring out your best dress from the back of your closet, hoping you ‘matched the club’s overall atmosphere.’ You let out a heavy sigh as you make it past the What Not to Wear crew guarding the entrance alongside the bouncer, and you are officially in.

“This is your first time here, right?” Hana asks you, linking your arms together. You nod, and she grins before adding, “You’re in for a treat.”

The Siren is exactly what you saw in the pictures, only the dim glow of purple neon lights illuminating the extravagant chandeliers, corner sofas, and opulent decorations you know cost more than your month’s rent.

The owner herself personally escorts every single patron to their seats — a tradition spanning over a decade since the club was first inaugurated. Briefly introducing herself as Taeyeon, the beautiful woman leads you through a long corridor adorned with the hosts’ pictures on the walls. Finally, you arrive at a sofa, where a champagne bottle nestled in an ice bucket already waits for you. She informs Naeun that the host she ordered for the night will be a bit late due to personal reasons, before bidding you goodbye with a smile.

You awkwardly shift in your seat as Hana leaves to fetch you drinks from the bar, and your eyes scan the lounge as it slowly fills up with people. You notice a few of the men you saw on the website parading around the club, a grin etched onto their lips as they lock eyes with a few of the patrons. Other hosts are already tending to their ‘dates,’ sitting beside them on the sofas and attentively listening with warm smiles.

Hyunjin wasn’t lying when he said his job was making lonely women feel wanted.

The club itself is rather boring without the satisfaction of a host pampering you. The slow jazz music playing softly in the background makes you feel almost drowsy, and the dim lighting does little to help. For an hour, you watch as hosts come and go. Some lead their clients toward the bar area, partaking in drinking games with other clients and hosts. Others guide women up the black, shimmering staircase at the back of the club, leaving you to wonder where they could possibly be off to. Thankfully, you’ll have Hana to keep you company when Naeun undoubtedly disappears off to somewhere with the host she ‘ordered.’

Your gaze falls on the sofa in front of you, where a host’s dimpled smile lights up his face as he playfully strokes a woman’s cheek, eliciting a shy giggle from her lips before she continues her story. His intense gaze remains fixed on her face, his hand soothingly trailing down her back while he nods, seemingly enthralled by their conversation. It would be a lie to say coming here after a tiring week at work wouldn’t seem like stepping into a dream. Even if it’s all a well-constructed lie, having a handsome guy cater to your every need and listen to you complain without uttering a word is almost fucking idyllic.

Your eyes then wander toward the back of the club, where a small group of hosts is huddled around a circular table, quietly laughing among themselves. Sitting at the center, Taeyeon’s intent gaze oversees her club’s activities while engaged in a heated phone conversation, her scowl deepening with each word she mutters.

You assume these hosts weren’t booked for the night or are still waiting for their clients to arrive. Just as you’re about to advert your gaze, Hyunjin emerges from a door on the left. His hair is meticulously styled, slicked back to reveal his gorgeous face, and his tall figure is dressed in a white button-up shirt tucked neatly under an expensive-looking black blazer.

Hyunjin has always been beautiful in your eyes, but seeing him exude so much confidence stirs up something inside of you.

His mere presence captivates you so strongly you find it impossible to look away, even as his gaze meets yours. A look of utter bewilderment washes over his face as he stills his movements, looking almost startled. You two fall into an impromptu staring contest as if you’re attempting to communicate with your eyes alone until Naeun taps your shoulder, snapping you out of your haze.

“He’s so fucking hot, isn’t he?”

Your brows knit together. “What?”

“The host you’re ogling at,” Naeun giggles, “I saw him on their website the first time we came here, but I was too late so I couldn’t get him to myself. I’m so glad you asked us to come tonight ‘cause I got to order him before he was booked,” she explains, and you feel as if all the air has frozen in your lungs. Hyunjin is the host your friend ordered. “I’m fucking broke now, but I know it’ll be worth it.”

You inwardly grimace at how she talks about Hyunjin, almost like he’s only a shiny toy she couldn’t buy in the past. That, coupled with how booking a host is so casually referred to as ordering, makes you feel a bit nauseous.

Hyunjin eventually walks over to your table, as you knew he would. He’s Naeun’s host for the night, after all. As he slowly strides toward your sofa, his focus remains solely on you. For a split second, his eyes flicker with something akin to sadness before he quickly resumes his usual persona.

He immediately takes Naeun’s hand, kissing her knuckles with half-lidded eyes and a sultry grin. The way he looks at her has the knot in your stomach tightening, aching with the realization that it’s the same way he always looks at you. You were never anything special or significant to each other — you’re well aware of that — but the sting you feel is unbearable for some reason.

Hyunjin sits beside Naeun, and his focus shifts entirely to her. His wandering hands leave a trail of goosebumps from her arms to her bare legs, while his whispered words make her cheeks flush a rosy pink. And it feels as if he’s completely ignoring your presence, which is such a foolish thought you almost feel ashamed. This is his job, but reminding yourself of that every couple of minutes somehow only makes you feel worse.

Because this isn’t a one-time thing, this happens every single time he works.

At some point, while you were too busy engrossed in Hyunjin and Naeun, Hana got a host of her own. With his bleached blonde hair, a constellation of freckles on his cheeks, and a deep, gentle voice, it seems he’s done his job at captivating her. Each host seems to embody a specific persona. From his less-touchy demeanor to the softness in his eyes when he looks at Hana, it’s clear that this guy is going for the caring boyfriend type.

As you remember how available hosts sometimes approach clients themselves, you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. If they’re available, no one has booked them for the night, meaning they won’t earn a single dollar. Their focus will undoubtedly be on finding the wealthiest available patron. Hana came from old money, only working at your company after falling out with her family, but her head-to-toe Chanel attire radiates wealth. It’s no wonder this host so graciously chose to sit beside her.

Eventually, Hana is led to the large bar by her host, and the atmosphere in your little space becomes increasingly uncomfortable for you. Your neglected drink is now lukewarm, leaving a damp spot on the hem of your dress as condensation seeps through from where you rested the glass on your thighs.

Hyunjin leaves a few minutes later, taking Naeun by the hand. He briefly turns to look at you, his gaze now nearly unreadable. Only disappointment — or was it hurt? — flashes in his brown eyes before he walks away to lead her up that stairwell.

You sit alone for what feels like an eternity, the once bustling lounge slowly falling into a deafening silence around you. Jealousy and hurt intertwine inside your brain, spinning around in an endless cycle and making your head throb.

You’re only waiting until you’ve finished your way too expensive Cosmopolitan — far too warm to be enjoyable now — when a figure suddenly sits beside you. To your surprise, it’s a host. His styled dark brown hair is messy as if he’s been running his hands through it, and his black button-up shirt has the sleeves rolled up, exposing the veins running along his forearms. He’s hot, there’s no denying, but your sour mood won’t be solved by some eye candy.

“Seems we’re both alone tonight,” he starts, a smile slowly spreading across his lips.

You simply hum, taking a final sip of your drink before placing the glass on the table. You’re not really in the mood to entertain this conversation, so you uncross your legs, ready to leave.

But your movements halt when his hand gently rests on your knee.

“You seem so lonely here all by yourself. Why don’t you come with me?” He offers, and your eyes narrow. He lets out a hearty laugh. “No need to act so suspicious, I’m just making an offer. We’re both alone. What’s the harm?”

To say you were skeptical would be an understatement. You clearly remember his face from the website as he was right beside Hyunjin, at the number two spot of the platinum tier, his price only slightly less offensively expensive.

“I’m Minho,” he offers his hand, which you reluctantly take after telling him your name. After your awkward handshake, you try to pull back, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he places your clasped hands on your lap, his thumb drawing circular shapes on your skin as he continues, “I waited all night for my client to show up. I could really use a distraction.”

Of course.

You take a deep breath, and your gaze shifts towards his face.

“I don’t have money to order you, sorry.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Minho’s lips, his hand leaving yours and finding the skin of your thighs. “How about I make this my treat, then? My client has this habit of ordering me and then ghosting me,” he sighs, “Isn’t that cruel? Taeyeon said she won’t let it fly anymore and is refusing to give her a refund for tonight.”

As Minho’s soft touch glides along your skin, his fingers inching closer to the hem of your dress, your mind replays the scene of Hyunjin’s hand on Naeun’s legs. The way he touched her mirrored how he had touched you so many times, and it replayed in your mind like a flickering film. It ignites the flame of ugly jealousy inside of you once more.

“Your treat?” You whisper, and Minho’s face inches closer to yours, your noses brushing together.

“I’d hate for a pretty girl like you to go home unsatisfied,” he whispers.

You’re walking up the gleaming steps of that staircase before you can make sense of what you’re doing. Minho’s hand doesn’t leave your skin for a second, fingers now gliding across your arms as he leads you down a wide corridor. You eye the place curiously, taking in the row of closed, dark wooden doors lining both sides of the hallway.

Minho leads you toward the only door that has been left ajar, and it finally dawns on you what happens on the second floor of The Siren.

The room is not large; a round bed occupies most of the space between the small bar and the dark velvet couch. Following your initial conversation with Hyunjin about this job, he consistently evaded any further questions you asked until you eventually gave up. You always assumed he found the subject boring, much like you did when forced to talk about your own job.

You knew his job as a host meant pampering women, making them feel wanted and tending to their every need throughout the night. It seems your brain conveniently failed to remember that it also implied having sex with them.

“I only fuck them if they’re willing to pay, and I’m expensive.”

You feel a shudder run through your body as those words ring inside your mind. That’s what extra fees meant.

Hyunjin led Naeun up those stairs. It doesn’t take much imagination to know what they were doing at that exact moment.

Minho locks the door behind you, and his strong arms circle your waist, drawing you closer to his body. His gaze drops to your lips, and a smile spreads across his face.

“Is this okay?” His voice is gentle, with no pressure lingering in his words. You know you could say no, go back home, and wallow in your self-pity for the rest of the night.

But you don’t want to do that.

Because you know Hyunjin is currently fucking your friend. And, despite the rational side of your brain screaming that this is his job, it does little to extinguish the searing fire of jealousy that burns under your skin.

So, you allow yourself to fall into bed with Minho.

His touches are almost feather-light, his kisses gentle, and his movements deliberate as he fucks into you.

It feels good, but it’s not what you’re used to.

It’s not Hyunjin.

Hyunjin returned home as soon as he possibly could after his shift.

Any anger was dampened by the sadness and shame he felt because you had to see him at the club. It’s his job, but it’s a job he never truly loved. He feels vulnerable and powerless as a host, a stark contrast to what he feels when camming.

Taeyeon personally scouted him from his livestream. He was twenty and already making enough money to provide for himself. He didn’t need a new job, but the allure of the validation he knew it would provide him was enticing. Compliments and adoration fueled Hyunjin throughout his entire life. He knew it was a bit pathetic, but that was how he was taught to be.

During his training period, Taeyeon and the older hosts instructed him. They taught him how to erase his true self to fit into what would most appeal to clients. That was easy for Hyunjin. He’d already been doing that for most of his life.

He wasn’t tricked into anything. He was given a meticulous explanation of every minute detail of the job and was allowed to set hard limits for anything he wasn’t comfortable doing. Taeyeon treated the hosts like her family, like older and younger brothers she cared for. She provided apartments for those who came into the job with nothing, paid off student debts, and was always willing to listen to their problems.

She would be the perfect boss if not for her love of money.

Every host receives only 5% of any money they make for the club. Hyunjin, as the highest-paid host at The Siren, only makes around $100 per weekend — if he’s lucky enough to have clients booking him for extra services every night.

He knows he’s being exploited but can’t bring himself to quit.

When he first discovered the ranking system at the club, he turned to smoking because of pressure. Naturally, he started at the lowest tier but needed to climb as fast as possible. He was determined to do whatever it took to reach that number one spot. He bleached his hair, splashed out on clothes he didn’t like, and even took up groups of clients per night. Hyunjin had always found comfort in sex. He had complete control of the situation and the satisfaction of knowing he was the reason someone felt good was just another form of validation, like he was loved for as long as the sex lasted.

Sex at the club was never like that. It was a chore, something he did because he had to. It wasn’t anything like camming, and it wasn’t like having sex with someone he actually cared about.

It wasn’t anything like having sex with you.

Seeing you that night only made it harder for him to drag himself up those stairs and do what was expected of him.

Hyunjin got home that night and fell asleep on the couch. He couldn’t be bothered to do anything, especially shower, as the thought of facing his reflection in the mirror was unbearable. Different emotions swirled inside him like a tornado until they ultimately consumed him before he finally dozed off.

He thought he could trust you, thought you knew him well enough to understand why he wanted to keep this part of himself hidden from you. The night he first told you about this job, he put on a mask — like he always did — and put on his best act, playing up his arrogance despite how scared he felt. When you told him that same night he wasn’t anything worth falling for, and that you could be together only until you found something better, he felt as if his heart had shattered for the first time in his life.

That was the night he realized a mask couldn’t protect him from everything. Especially his own heart.

It wasn’t intentional — liking you this much hasn’t been exactly enjoyable. It simply happened. Because you were the only one who ever chipped away at his impenetrable wall and saw the closest thing to the real Hyunjin, yet still chose to stay.

You hadn’t stayed because of his looks; you two never cared about impressing each other.

You hadn’t stayed solely for the sex; you two often got together simply to enjoy each other’s company.

Hyunjin couldn’t be blamed for assuming you had stayed because you knew him. Not the mask he wore or the persona he showed to the world — the real him.

But tonight, even among all the designer clothes and expensive drinks, he felt as if you had just witnessed him at his lowest. And he could only hope you still chose to stay after that.

You’ve barely been awake for an hour when a knock echoes through your apartment. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, because there’s only one person who could be at the other side of the door.

After your jealousy-clouded brain made the asinine decision to sleep with Minho, you’ve locked away any and every thought into a pretty little box inside your mind. You didn’t want to think about what you had done because you knew the remorse would slowly erode your mind. You certainly didn’t want to think about Hyunjin, as even the faint memory of his eyes from the previous night would dig at your heart until it shattered.

But there was nowhere you could hide outside of your mind.

Hyunjin is quiet as you open the door, and he remains quiet as you two sit together on your couch. Your tea sits forgotten on your coffee table, and you focus on the swirls of steam rising from your mug as you endure his silence.

You force yourself to speak when your tea finally goes cold.

“I’m sorry,” you simply say.

Hyunjin’s hands tug at the sleeves of his sweater, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. “Why did you come to the club without telling me?”

“I was angry at you,” You bite your lip, knowing your reasoning is ridiculous. “Because of the date…” you trail off, and Hyunjin turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he walked into your apartment.

“So you thought coming to my work would be a good idea?”

You shrug, instinctively looking away as you feel the intensity of his eyes on you. It was just like when you first met him, only it made you ashamed instead of flustered. You missed that initial lightness, but you knew that was long gone now. Sorting out your issues with Hyunjin was necessary if you ever hoped to have a healthy relationship. If every conversation turned into an argument that would only be avoided through sex, there was no point in dragging this on.

“I wasn’t thinking,” is all you can say.

Hyunjin scoffs. “That was kinda obvious.”

The biting tone in his voice makes you rise to your feet, shaking your head. You put as much distance between you and him as possible.

“What? You wanted me to be rational when I thought you were just playing with me?” You throw your hands up as you blurted out, exasperation consuming any remaining trace of pride within you. “When I thought you were having fun acting jealous and proposing dates only to come up with shitty excuses to shut it all down?”

“Playing with you?” Hyunjin mirrors your words, eyes narrowing as he closes the distance you had created. “I thought you knew me enough to know I mean it when I say something. I wanted to go on that date with you, and I was fucking jealous. That night you forced me to listen to you fuck another guy made me wanna punch my fucking wall.”

You open your lips, but no words come out.

You’re embarrassed. Going to The Siren wasn’t the first childish thing you had done out of spite because of Hyunjin. But your anger was never directed at him. It was always you; for allowing yourself to become so attached to him and like him so much that it drove you mad.

Going on that date simply to rile Hyunjin up, showing up at his job because you felt entitled to when your mind insisted you had been wronged — that was all you and your stupid mind being incapable of accepting the fact that you have fallen for the guy you swore would never be of any significance to you.

The guy you so proudly declared unworthy of falling for.

“Are you really not gonna say anything?” Hyunjin lets out a weak laugh, and when your eyes meet again, his expression leaves no room for doubt this time. Sadness swims freely in his eyes while they well up with tears that he vigorously fights to hold back. “I thought you knew me,” he reiterates. “Thought you stayed because you knew…” He trails off, shaking his head.

As he turns to leave, you instinctively reach out for him. After nine months of knowing each other, you hold his hand for the first time.

“I do know you, Hyunjin,” you blurt out, squeezing his hand when he refuses to look at you. “I stayed because I know you. Beyond your rankings, beyond that club, beyond this damn wall you built around yourself. At least a little bit, I know you.”

He takes a deep breath before his eyes lock on yours again. “I feel like you’ve been tearing down brick by brick of my wall.” He’s the one to squeeze your hand this time. “I kinda fucking hate that.”

You attempt to stifle a chuckle, but it escapes your lips nonetheless. Hyunjin smiles.

“I’d love to know you even more, beyond this mask you wear all the time,” you confess. And you’re tired of hiding behind your own mask, so you tell him, “It’s tiring feeling like I only know half of who you truly are when I already like you so fucking much as it is.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen, surprise eclipsing any trace of his initial sadness.

“What? You like me?” He sputters, and you bite your lips as a smile spreads on your lips.

You cannot believe this is the same Hyunjin whose ego made you want to punch his face.

“Well, no shit,” you chuckle. “Why do you think I put up with you for so long? Don’t you think if I was looking for something better, I would’ve found it already?”

Hyunjin’s lips crash into yours before you can say anything else, his fingertips barely brushing against your skin as he cupped your face.

Your lips part for him, and a low hum resonates from his chest. You wrap your free arm around his shoulder, your hands still tightly intertwined, and pull him closer to you. It’s an awkward position, but neither of you is willing to unclasp your hands.

Hyunjin’s tongue glides languidly into your open lips, making you clutch at his arm as your mind goes dizzy. You had never kissed like this — always too impatient and lust-drunk to savor the feeling of each other’s lips properly.

It sends your entire body ablaze.

He’s pulling away far too soon, tugging at your bottom lip with a small smile.

“I’m not something better, but I’m gonna be,” he mutters against your lips. “For you.”

But you shake your head. “Just let me in. You’re already more than enough.”

In order for your efforts to work, you and Hyunjin established three crucial rules: absolute honesty, open communication, and no fucking until significant progress is made.

You start slowly, with that unfulfilled date that had been the catalyst for you two finally confronting your feelings.

Hyunjin was nervous. The few times he’s gone on dates, his mind was set on wrapping it up as soon as possible to take the person home. It didn’t matter where they went or what they did; every date inevitably led to his bed.

This time was different.

You certainly weren’t expecting to have a picnic on a Saturday afternoon. Your surprise was evident as your eyes widened at the sight before you: Hyunjin, standing at your door with a picnic basket and a digital camera slung around his neck. When you jokingly commented on how that was the most un-Hyunjin thing you had ever seen him do, he nonchalantly shrugged.

As you two sat together under a tree, however, he told you he’s always loved picnics. Growing up near a park, picnics became a family tradition that started when he was just a kid and still happens whenever he visits his parents. The silly smile that was etched onto your lips lingered throughout the entire day. Hyunjin’s closed-off nature made that small piece of information feel like a precious gem you had just collected. It was far greater than any of the pointless conversations you two had in the last nine months.

It felt like watching another brick from his once towering wall shatter to the ground.

Hyunjin quit his job at the club a month after your first date.

He didn’t elaborate on it at first, simply telling you it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. You had now learned it was best to give him space, as his tendency to shut himself off only worsened if he felt pressured. Deep inside, Hyunjin yearned to share every little detail about himself with you and hear your own stories in return. However, years of keeping everyone at a comfortable distance hindered his ability to open up without feeling vulnerable.

So you only pulled him into a hug, running your hands through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh. You two then set off for your date at a bakery close to your apartments, with the subject seemingly forgotten.

Until Hyunjin suddenly told you the entire truth under a lamppost in front of your building. He whispered that he didn’t want to go home yet, and you found yourselves sitting on the sidewalk as you listened to his story. You weren’t exactly shocked at the information dumped on you, but it still made your heart sore. He was taken advantage of because he longed to feel accepted, to feel loved.

During the elevator ride, you could tell Hyunjin was struggling to hold back tears with every ounce of his strength. You know he was eager to be alone when he pressed a weak kiss to your forehead before heading towards his door. So you reached out for his hand once more and pulled him toward your apartment despite his protests.

That night, Hyunjin struggled to suppress his tears until they ultimately overflowed out of his eyes and down his cheeks as you held him on the couch. Before you knew it, tears unwittingly streamed down your face as well. It was as if your emotions were a mirror image of his.

Another brick down.

You discover Hyunjin’s love for photography by accident.

Everywhere you went together, his camera was draped around his neck. At first, you paid little attention to that detail. His job consisted of being in front of a camera; it wouldn’t be outrageous to surmise he simply enjoyed documenting his daily life. You teased him about it one day as he stopped in front of a flower shop to snap yet another picture. He shrugged, casually telling you he’d been taking pictures since his teenage years, later majoring in photography before dropping out of university.

Unable to tame your nagging curiosity, you urged him to show you his pictures. Nestled deep inside his wardrobe were several boxes filled with photographs he had taken over the years. Most captured the simple beauty of ordinary places and simple things, like the pretty flowers he saw at the shop you walked past, but some showed people candidly laughing while immersed in the happiness of their daily lives in parks or museums.

He wore an unabashed grin on his lips when he opened another box, this one containing around ten developed pictures of you. Among the small pile of photos, one catches your eye: your smiling side profile beaming at a group of kids, a hand shielding your eyes from the sun. You turn the picture around, and the words “First date. I was so nervous, and she was so pretty” are scribbled in black sharpie. Hyunjin groaned beside you, telling you he just jotted down something stupid without much thought. It made you smile like a kid.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a weak chuckle, “I never show them to anybody. None of them are really good, anyway.”

You furrowed your brows at his words, studying his face for any hint of sarcasm. His pictures were beautiful, perfectly depicting how happiness and mundanity often blended into one unbeknownst to people. But Hyunjin noticed, with his camera always ready at the right time for the perfect shot, even with things as small as a snapshot of your first date.

“They’re amazing, Hyunjin,” you told him matter-of-factly. “This is the kind of thing you’d find in art galleries. I can’t believe you keep this talent hidden.”

He shrugs your words off at first, taking a photo in his hand and studying it for a few seconds. His lips curve into a small smile, shyly at first, until his face is beaming as he looks down at his work. You can’t help but smile along, noticing how his cheeks blushed for the first time since you met him.

Another brick down.

In two months, you and Hyunjin went from meeting only at your apartments to going on weekly dates and from pointless bickering to actually understanding each other. The more he opened up, the more you found yourself being vulnerable around him as well.

You learned Hyunjin’s confidence was truthfully a part of him; he simply played it up to a maddening degree to protect himself. He is a confident man, but he’s certainly not the egotistical idiot you once believed him to be.

Your suspicions about him secretly being a softie were also confirmed as you witnessed him cry nearly every time you watched the romance movies he sheepishly confessed to loving. At first, he would sniffle, rubbing his eyes and clearing his throat, before excusing himself to the bathroom. A few movies later, he allowed himself to openly cry in front of you for the second time. He’s proven to be a certified crier since then, often laying his head on your chest and silently shedding tears while you played with his hair.

At the end of the day, Hyunjin was a flawed, complex person like any other. He wasn’t always soft and sensitive, but he wasn’t only a cocky and smug little shit, either.

You found you loved both sides of him equally.

Your rules proved to be exactly what you needed, as you only felt closer to Hyunjin each passing day.

But a particular rule became your number one enemy after a month.

Your pent-up sexual frustration seemed to escalate with each passing day, fueling an increasing desire to just say fuck it and climb on top of Hyunjin. It certainly didn’t help that he was even clingier now, long limbs always tangling with yours when you lay on the couch, or his warm body pressing against you while you were cooking. Not to mention that you listened to him livestream every weekend. You opted to wait in his living room — because watching him would just be masochistic — but it felt like you had been transported back in time. Sitting alone for hours and listening to him moan was still as torturous as the first time it had happened. Even if you touched yourself to the sound of his voice, it was never enough.

You knew what you needed, but you have been essentially blueballing yourself for a month now.

As you two lie on your bed, watching another sappy romance movie, you can feel the heat rising inside your body, like a thermometer reaching its peak. You were fully expecting Hyunjin to cry, but this movie turned out to be far more erotic than romantic. His persistent need to have his lips on you — be it with a kiss or with lazy nibbles on your neck — also certainly doesn’t help your suffering.

You power through as you watch the love interests making out while Hyunjin lightly presses his lips to your neck, his body all but caging you against your bed. But the moment the couple heads to the bedroom, hastily undressing each other with heavy pants and sighs, you absentmindedly part your legs. Hyunjin is hovering above you before you can make sense of what’s happening, your laptop carelessly thrown to the side. His body pressed against yours, fitting perfectly between your thighs, as his darkening eyes bore into you.

“Hyunjin,” you have half a mind to say, “Our rule.”

He simply nods, and goosebumps ripple across your body when you feel his hardening member brush against you.

“We made progress,” he states with a grin. “You even let me into your room now.”

“It’s not enough to justify fucking again.”

As much as you were desperate for it.

He swallows slowly, nodding and bending his face to yours. “But our rule says no fucking,” he reasons. “If I make love to you, then it won’t even count.”

“Love?” You whisper, and the thermometer shatters as he presses a long kiss to your open lips.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin smiles between kisses, brushing his lips against yours. “Love.”

It’s not a clear confession, not a beautiful I love you whispered between kisses — but you know Hyunjin, and the sincerity in his voice says everything.

Your fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt as you pull him even closer to you, and he promptly presses his mouth against yours, his tongue teasingly gliding across your bottom lip. Each roll of your hips ignites the heat within you like scorching lava, your desire swallowing you entirely after so long of craving this.

His tongue presses against yours, effortlessly taking control of the kiss, capturing your bottom lip with his teeth before releasing it and traveling toward your jaw. He sucks the sensitive skin into his mouth with a hum, drawing out a whimper from your lips while he moves down the column of your neck. Smiling against your collarbone, Hyunjin alternates between harsh nibbles and soft kisses, leaving blooming rosy spots on every inch of your skin. He travels toward your chest, his hands slipping under your shirt and brushing your skin before tugging off the fabric.

Hyunjin’s hands cup your breasts, your nipples tightening under his attention, and his lips move down your body, placing kisses from your chest to your stomach. His hand eagerly kneads the soft skin of your chest while the other pinches your nipple, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingertips.

“I missed this,” he whispers, voice muffled against your skin, and you let out a shaky breath as a response when his fingers toy with the waistband of your sweatpants. “That was a stupid rule.”

“Shut up.” You let out a breathy laugh. “It was a great rule, it helped us make progress.”

“Fuck progress,” Hyunjin groans, tugging your sweatpants off.

He wastes no time hoisting your legs over his shoulders, causing you to shudder and goosebumps to ripple through your body when his lips close around your clit without warning. His tongue licks long stripes up the length of your slit, his fingers spreading you open so he can lap at your arousal with a low hum. Hyunjin’s thumb rubs circles around your clit as his lips find your inner thighs, sucking and biting at the skin, leaving another blushing trail of his yearning for you.

His tongue delves into your wetness, savoring you with tantalizing, pleasure-filled groans that travel through your cunt. The insistent throb between your thighs intensifies, your hand tugging at his hair and your hips rolling into his touch as you arch your back. Hyunjin’s fingers dig into the skin of your thighs while you reach your peak, his teeth pulling your clit gently as you come with a broken cry.

Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes are heavy with lust when he looks at you, his firm grip keeping your legs over his shoulders.

“You still think that rule was great?” Hyunjin gives you a lopsided grin that almost has you rolling your eyes, only he presses one last kiss to your sensitive clit, rending you unable to do anything but mewl and tug at his hair. He chuckles, pressing his lips to your inner thighs once more, his eyes still locked onto yours.

You needed him closer, his strong arms surrounding you and his scent enveloping your senses until you felt dizzy. The mere thought of his cock has you clenching, arousal trickling down your slit, and you tug at his hair harshly with a whine.

Hyunjin climbs over you again, tugging his shirt over his head in one fluid movement and crashing his lips into yours, the taste of your release swirling in your mouth as your tongues meet.

“You’re so fucking needy,” he chides. You simply hum, his thick length brushing against your core as he leans down to kiss you again.

“You’re one to talk,” you smirk, breaking the kiss and rolling your hips up into his erection. Hyunjin scoffs, his hands capturing your wrists and pinning them over your head, his eyes darkening as he looms over you.

There’s no more push and pull between you two during your daily lives, but it’s something you hope never fades away during sex. You’re sure Hyunjin’s need to have control, coupled with your taste for riling him up, will make sure that never happens.

But Hyunjin has no intentions of making you beg tonight — not after so many weeks of making himself cum to the thought of your pretty cunt, knowing that damn rule kept him from actually having you.

He tugs his sweatpants out of his way, one hand still pinning your wrists to the mattress. You bite your lip at the sight of his cock hanging heavily, tantalizingly close to your sopping cunt. Hyunjin strokes himself hastily, clearly having grown impatient, precum dribbling from the ruddy head of his cock and easing the glide of his fist.

The swollen tip slides against your wetness, and he lets out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead to yours. The delicious stretch as he presses inside has your hands instinctively reaching out to him. But his grip on your wrists only tightens, keeping them in place as he leans into you, stretching you further with a hiss.

“Fuck, I missed being buried in your cunt,” Hyunjin mumbles, and you moan as his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Always so tight, like you were made for me.”

He sheaths himself inside of you completely, and you arch your back with a groan as his cock twitches inside your sensitive spot.

“Made just for you,” you choke out as Hyunjin slowly thrusts into you, agonizingly slow and deliberate movements making you dig your nails into your palms. “Hyunjin,” his name dissipates into a whine as he pushes his cock in and out of you languidly.

He chuckles against the shell of your ear, and you wrap your legs around his torso, rolling your hips faster against him. The drawn-out moan that escapes his lips has your cunt clenching and leaking more arousal around his length.

“D’you still like the sound of my voice that much?” He hums, and you nod with a sigh. His slender fingers wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. “Yeah? Like it when I moan in your ear?”

He finally picks up the pace, pulling back before snapping his hips forward. His lips swallow your moans as he kisses you once, his hand finally releasing your wrists and digging into your hips as he pumps his cock into you. He leaves a trail of wet kisses along your sweaty skin, tracing his tongue along the marks he left earlier.

“You’re mine,” he groans against your skin. “Been dying to say this for so fucking long.”

You gasp at his words, your body jerking when he slips his hand down to circle around your swollen clit. “‘M yours,” you whine, “Fuck me like I’m yours. Please—”

Hyunjin groans, your words igniting a fire within him, and his hips fall into a ruthless pace, pistoning his cock into you while his fingertips expertly stroke your clit. The hot coil of desire in your stomach tightens, finally breaking as your climax surges through every fiber of your being, a million stars bursting behind your eyelids.

“Fuck, you always feel so good,” Hyunjin rasps out, his movements shifting into a messy tempo. “Gonna fill you up, okay?”

You nod with a whimper, your overstimulated cunt clenching around his cock as his thrusts remain unrelenting. With a low grunt that ripples through his chest, Hyunjin’s hips slam into yours, his cock twitching and his grip on your throat tightening. He paints your insides with a final testament that you were his.

He stills on top of you, pressing featherlight kisses to your cheeks and lips, his cock softening inside of you as you stay that way for a while. When he pulls out, his fingers promptly smear his cum over your cunt as it leaks out, two digits thrusting his release back into you with a contented hum.

“Can we still fuck now that I found something better?” You ask him with a grin, and he laughs, burying his head in your neck.

Your mind is wholly clouded with bliss — both from your orgasm and the feeling of love that courses through your veins. You inwardly laugh. Hyunjin fucking you in your bedroom had definitely not tainted it. He had basically transformed your bed into a sanctuary.

Hyunjin helps you shower, gentle hands wash and caress your body before coaxing your third orgasm out of you under the soothing cascading water. He makes you a cup of your favorite tea the way you love it — which he made sure to memorize — and insists you two finish watching the forgotten movie before going to bed. It feels awfully domestic, and it would be a lie to say you hated it.

That night, you fall asleep beside Hyunjin in your bed for the first time; inside a little sacred space you are slowly building with him.

It was never your intention to be his. You were certain Hyunjin was the type of man who would never allow himself to be vulnerable, to truly fall in love with someone without his ego getting in the way. By keeping him at arm’s length, you believed you were guarding yourself from inevitable heartache.

Behind his cocky smirks and self-assured words, an amazing man hid himself out of deep-seated fears of rejection, unworthiness, and not being loved for his true self. Each day, he allowed glimpses of himself to shine through the cracks in his fortress. He became an enigma you were dying to unravel because you knew he was worth it.

Because you knew him.

And unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin has been yours all along. From the moment you walked into his apartment with a scowl and frustration-filled words, it was as if his heart became wired to crave you. He was simply hoping and waiting for you to become his as well.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie, @wormieieie, @soonie1010, @dessianna1, @minimin1993, @idontlikecoffeeortea, @ashleighland, @oddracha, @sushiinmidnight, @lailac13, @badmaeda, @hynjinniesworld, @iheartjazz444, @cypher-girlx, @isagerada, @leviathanlee26, @sailor--sun, @binniesbabygirl

[jarofstyles]

Stacy’s Mom

Stacy’s mom has got it goin’ on… and Harry’s definitely been noticing for a while.

We haven’t seen a lot of reverse age gap fics and figured it was our time to contribute to the cause. We hope you enjoy!

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Warnings- age gap, unprotected sex, teasing, creampie, soft dom!H

———————

His lip was bitten as he watched her walk across the backyard, sunglasses hiding his gaze. The back of her sundress brushed the softness of her thighs, her hair pulled up in a claw clip as she placed snacks down on the glass table for the group of friends that often frequented the pool at her house. The very house she had won in the divorce just three years ago. 

Stacy’s parents had always been generous when it came to letting their home be the epicenter of their friend groups’ hang out. It didn’t stop when they all came home from uni for the summer, everyone falling back into their routine with the hometown group, or after they’d graduated and some had stayed in town. Drunken food at the diner, pub crawls- legally this time-, the mall, the summer carnival, and movie nights and pool days at Stacy’s house. It was spacious and clean and it had only changed a little bit since the divorce. Her hotshot lawyer father paid a nice big chunk of change in alimony keeping the comfortable lifestyle afloat, one Harry was aiming to get for himself. Hopefully after he opened up a garage or two, he’d be able to grab a house like this. Make someone happy. 

The problem is, the last three summers all he could think about was someone he definitely shouldn’t be. 

It was no secret that she was incredible. Everyone loved Y/N from the start and not just because she was the ‘cool, young mom’ who didn’t make them call her by her last name. She was genuinely kind, loved to make them snacks, would pick up anyone who needed it, let them nurse their hangovers at their house and made them the greasy breakfasts they needed to get through the mornings. The woman was an angel- and she had an exterior to match. 

It seemed like in the last few years though, she had been rediscovering herself and her body. Dressing in ways she hadn’t before, ways he knew Stacy’s father wouldn’t like. Denim shorts and tank tops, sundresses, the like. Things that made Harry’s crush morph from minor to major. Y/N had become the centerfold to his wet dreams, the woman he compared other girls to, the one he closed his eyes and imagined in the shower when he was stroking off. He watched her in her kitchen while she chopped up fruit for them, her back turned and imagined approaching her from behind and placing kisses on her neck, hiking the dress up and offering her all the fun she could want. 

There was something so tempting about the older woman. Harry’d always sort of had that preference, but it had intensified as he grew up. His friends liked to prod at him about being into MILFs and he couldn’t deny it. He was. There was certainly one mother he’d love to fuck, and it was Stacy’s. In all honesty, it was half the reason he kept showing up here. 

“I hate to say it, Stace- your mom is banging.” Jeremy said what Harry was thinking but got a smack upside the head with a waterlogged pool noodle, making him yelp. 

“Do not talk about my mom like that you freak!” She hissed. “She’s a beautiful woman but none of you are going to even think about her in any way but my mother.” Her warning glare did little to deter Harry, though he merely shrugged at her to get her to think he agreed. There was no way in the world that he would ever turn away a chance to be alone with Y/N. He would beg on his knees for a chance to touch her. 

“Don’t look at me! I’m just saying it. Harry’s the one who’s the MILF Hunter.” Jacob snickered, making him raise an eyebrow. It was true and he wanted to smirk- because yes, he’d fucked a few older women before. Being a mechanic during the week and a bartender during the weekend had their perks, including women who found him to be more than a bit interesting. There had been a few instances he’d taken them up on their offers, quelling their loneliness and lack of orgasm with his own brand of fun. But none of them had ever appealed to him quite like Y/N. 

The forbidden fruit theory, maybe. He really, really shouldn’t even entertain it. A crush turned into an obsession though, he was fucked. The moment he thought he had a chance, he would be taking it. As cocky as he could be, he knew he would be able to handle her. 

“Yeah, but Harry’s not going to say stupid shit to my mom.” She huffed. 

With a smirk on his face, Harry gave a half ass nod before watching the woman of discussion shoot them a beaming smile across the yard before she turned to go back inside. Harry’s eyes ate up every curve, every drop, every inch of skin he could see before she closed the sliding glass door to the deck. 

If only she knew. 

——

Harry was sitting at home when he got a call from a number he didn’t recognize. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. People usually gave his number out to people who had car trouble, knowing he was reliable and could always use a bit of cash. It wasn’t something he minded, but he was exhausted tonight. Sitting down in his apartment, he exhaled slowly before clicking the green button to answer the phone. 

“Hello, who’s this?” He asked gruffly, his slight agitation bleeding into his tone.

“H-Hi! I’m so sorry to call you so late, but it’s Y/N. Stacy’s mum.” She said shyly. “I’m sorry to bother you Harry, but my car… it’s not starting. I was meant to go to the grocery but it’s just making this noise and-“ 

His whole body shot up straight as he got confirmation as to who it was. Was it some sort of joke? Or were the angels smiling down on him for once? Any ache in his body and heaviness in his eye disappeared as he stood up from the sofa, making his way towards the door. 

“M’on my way. It’s no trouble.” He said in a softer tone, thankful he had already showered. Maybe he’d need to do it again, but he wanted to look halfway decent for Y/N. “It’ll be about 15 for me to get over there.” 

“Oh-are you sure?” Her voice was slightly hesitant. “You sound tired and I can order groceries if I need to, I really don’t want to put you out.” 

“Promise, it’s not a big deal.” He assured her, tucking his wallet into his jeans before opening his front door. “I’d always help you with whatever you need. Didn’t mean t’’sound so grumpy, I didn’t know it was you calling.” He’d have been halfway to her house if he had known. “Give me 15 and I’ll be there.”

“As long as you’re sure.” He could tell she was doing the worried thing she usually did with her fingers touching her bottom lip. There had been a lot of silent observing on his end towards the woman and he could almost see her in his head. “I’ll make sure to make it up to you.” 

Even though there was nothing suggestive in her tone, Harry could feel his prick stiffen up at the mere thought of it meaning something more. It took the whole drive there to will it down. 

—-

Harry arrived to the house to see the garage doors open- and Stacy’s car gone. 

Was this his divine intervention? He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he knew she had to be gone. Harry was the one who did all the work on their cars, so it wasn’t in the shop. More than likely they’d be all alone. 

The summer night was cooling off a bit but there was still a decent amount of daylight left. The stickiness had subsided and it was far more comfortable than he had been at work all day in his damn coveralls. He’d sweat up a storm and cringed the moment he’d had a moment to himself, hating how hot the garage got in the summer months. His own garages would have proper AC one day. 

He was thankful for the heat though when he saw Y/N come out from the garage, her lavender dress obviously a swimsuit cover up. The straps of a bikini were underneath it, the halter top of the dress tied behind her neck. It was shorter than her normal dresses making Harry peer up at the sky and ask anyone who was up there to lend him some strength in order to not pop a stiffy in front of her- at least not yet. 

“You really didn’t have to come out so quickly. I didn’t think before calling you.” Y/N crossed her arms as she walked towards the younger man who was fishing his toolbox out of the back of his pickup truck. She couldn’t help but admire how much of a man he’d truly become. Tattooed now, shown off by his black tank top. Hair a bit unruly and curled. Stubble on his upper lip and jaw. He was a man now, not a hint of boy in the slightest, and it was a little intimidating. She remembered him when he was far more lanky, 19 and shy. Now he was 23, with larger arms and broadened shoulders, a pretty set of lips and a husky voice. Things she shouldn’t have been paying attention to. 

There had been a bit of tension between them somehow, tension she hadn’t been able to pinpoint where it had begun. The one thing she did know is that he was an observer. His eyes were watching her when she came out and he kept eye contact as they spoke, like he was giving her every bit of attention he had when she was talking. Maybe it was the heart sickness she felt but it was so nice to feel listened to, appreciated. Harry always helped clean up, always told her daughter to be respectful to her mum, always asked her how her day was. He was a complete gentleman every time he came over and she had to wonder how much of a problem it was for her to sort of wish for that attention all the time. 

Ever since she had found out Patrick had been cheating on her, she’d felt a bit used. Dirty. Of course marrying a man 10 years her senior who was a hotshot lawyer had probably been her first sign something would go wrong, but he used to dote on her. That was until she began to age. It wasn’t like she was old- she could probably still have a kid if she wanted! But she’d gotten pregnant at 17 and Patrick had been quick to marry her on her 18th birthday. A problematic union at best, but she’d tried to be happy. She was provided for and had a beautiful home and daughter, one so smart she was able to skip around in school! But… she’d never felt truly loved. Not that toe curling, soft eyed, tummy turning love that she’d always imagined. 

Not even the passion she wanted. All she wanted at this point was for someone to want her. To make a move, to show her she was sexy and prove that her newfound revelations were true. 

The last three years had been tearing herself down to build back up. There was some part of her that felt 22 again, wanting to live the life she hadn’t been able to as a young mum. But that didn’t mean she had to look at Harry the way her brain was trying to. 

“Stacy is at a concert a few hours away otherwise I would have just asked her to borrow her car.” Having him here now made her feel all the more ridiculous for calling him over for such a stupid reason. Tomorrow would have at least been during normal work hours.

“Y/N.” Harry’s hand rested on her shoulder, making her breath catch quietly. “S’fine. I’m more than happy to help you. Alright?” His thumb rubbed over the cuff of her shoulder before he gently lifted his hand away, carrying his toolbox further into the garage. 

She felt a bit buzzed, as pathetic as it was. It had been so long since a man had touched her, let alone a younger, attractive one. It made her feel like her brain had fogged up. 

“Keys in the ignition?” He murmured. “Want t’see what we’re working with.” 

It was enough to shake her out of her fog, nodding a bit too eagerly as he gave her a soft smile, sitting himself in the driver’s seat. She leaned against the garage door as she watched him turn it over a few times to no avail, making her worry her bottom lip between her teeth. She had no idea about anything car related and luckily it had all been minor stuff until now. Her ex had the cars serviced every few months and she had been dropping the ball. What if it was bad? What if she needed a new engine and Harry thought she was an awful car owner? What if-

Her train of thought was snapped out of it as he let out a chuckle, standing up from the seat. “I know what it is. Isn’t a big problem at all.” He walked over to his toolbox. “Battery is dead. You may have accidentally left the key in, or a door open, maybe a light on. Not a big deal. I’ll just give it a jump.” 

While he didn’t seem annoyed about it at all, Y/N felt very, very dumb. How could she have not known that’s what it was? Something so easy to fix. Her cheeks burned as she cringed, feeling the guilt well up in her body for making him come out when she could have just asked a neighbor for a jump. 

It took him just a few tries with her following his instruction to turn the car on when she said so in order for her car to turn on as if nothing had happened. It was slightly humiliating.

“Oh, god… Harry, I’m so sorry.” She groaned. “I’m not… I’m not good with cars and I thought the engine was dead or something big happened to it. I made you leave your house for no reason. I can’t begin to say how awful I feel.” It felt even more embarrassing because it was such a quick fix and he was an expert in cars. She probably seemed like a bobble head. 

“Woah- S’okay.” He closed the hood of her car and detached the jumper cables. “It’s actually a good thing. I’d rather it be a quick fix than something that would cost you thousands. That’s the ideal. No one is an expert in cars right away and m’sure that the whole thing was probably be a bit troubling if it’s the first time it’s happened to you.” His voice tried to soothe her worries away. The man truly looked unbothered by it all, happy to help- but still. 

“Well… if you’re sure.” It still felt hot around her cheeks as she made her way towards the door leading to the kitchen. “Come inside, I’ll get you something for helping me.” 

Harry let out a sigh as she waited at the door for him, tucking his toolbox and cables back into his car before following her inside. A mixture of giddiness and nerves rocked through his system as she led him towards the kitchen where her handbag was. Alone with her at last- and with a good excuse. No one would question him coming over to help with the car. Surely, Stacy had given her his number. He had every right to be here. 

So why couldn’t he extend his stay? 

“How much do I owe you?” Her hair fell in her face as she looked down into her bag, fishing around for her wallet. It was always a bit of a mess with receipts she needed to toss, makeup she needed to put away, a first aid kit she’d only really ever needed once- all the things making it more difficult to find her wallet. So difficult that she didn’t notice how close he got until his warm, slightly calloused hand closed over hers, gently pulling it out of the bag. 

Her heart stuttered as she raised her head to look at him. Tanned skin from being out in the sun, a few freckles here and there. A birthmark near his mouth she’d never noticed. He had more scruff than the last time she had seen him too, making her mouth dry a bit as she blinked up at the man, her hand suddenly feeling much smaller in his own. He was a bit too close but there was no desire in the slightest to pull back.

“You know me a bit better than t’think that I’d charge you for a jump.” His voice was low, soft. A volume it didn’t need to be for it being just the two of them. He also didn’t need to be this close to her, close enough to smell a warm, woodsy soap on him and mint from the gum he was usually chewing. Her body felt hot under where he touched her, heartbeat quickening at his unforgiving eye contact. 

“B-but you came all the way out here.” She whispered back. It wasn’t necessary to talk that low but it was following his tone, the tension palpable in the room. “I’d feel awful for making you come for nothing. I really should pay you.” His stare was intimidating but also… a bit addicting. He didn’t look away from her- no, his eyes looked over her face. Maybe she had imagined the lingering at her lips, but part of her hoped she didn’t. 

“Have you had dinner yet?” His question made her slightly confused, not the response she had been expecting. 

“No, why? Did you want me to cook for you?” That made her perk up a bit. She had to do something to repay him. It wouldn’t be right not to. 

“No. I want t’cook for you.” His words were matter of fact. There was no way she didn’t believe his desire to do so, considering he looked so sure of himself. It just was a bit confusing. Her brows furrowed, head tilting a little as she turned more towards him- all too aware he hadn’t dropped her hand from his grip yet- giving him that questioning look. “You have the ingredients for chicken teriyaki? Rice?” When she nodded, his eyes glanced over to the pineapple in her fruit bowl. “Saw a recipe on how t’make it in a pineapple bowl. Was going to do it this weekend but I’d like to make it here. A bit more room in this kitchen and… it’d be nice to eat with someone.” He wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d like to eat with her. “May I?”

“I- I mean of course you can, but it doesn’t… how is it payment for you? For you to be the one to cook me dinner?” It was a bit hard for her to understand. She was the one who did the cooking for everyone else and it sounded like he was doing her yet another favor. 

“Because you’re fun to be around, nice to talk to, I won’t have t’shop for the ingredients, and m’starving.” It was self explanatory to him. He wanted to get away with spending as much time with her as possible. Especially when she seemed to be so shocked at the idea of someone being nice to her without the thought of repayment. It sort of pissed him off. “Just sit and talk to me while I cook. It’ll be nice to hear you without people interjecting.” 

Y/N hadn’t realized he had noticed that. His back was already turned, going through her fridge to get the chicken out along with some of the ingredients for the sauce but her brain was still on that. Had his shoulders always been that broad? Harry had always been quiet and observant. The nice guy, sweet and thoughtful but he didn’t seem to take any of the friend groups shit. Stacy was the youngest out of them all and he’d always been thoughtful about her. Protective over her feelings- to the point Y/N had assumed Harry had a bit of a crush on her at first. That proved to be false when she’d heard about Harry being set up with one of the mothers of the kid’s Stacy taught swim lessons to. 

One of her faults was indeed being nosy, and she’d listened in on her daughter when she dropped off lunch to the pool talking to said mother. She was definitely younger than herself with a much younger child but she apparently had one good night with Harry before he politely decided not to see her again. 

She wasn’t dumb. Y/N heard their teasing of Harry liking older women… and perhaps that’s why he made her a tad bit nervous. It wasn’t like he’d ever made a move, but he had a sensual air around him. He’d been gentle with her today, but never inappropriate. Was it bad to wish he would?

The answer was a resounding yes, it was not at all something she should ever want- but that didn’t mean that’s what her brain was thinking. 

She pulled out a pineapple wine she’d gotten as a gift, never a more appropriate time. A glass was poured for each of them as Harry went about the motions, preparing and chopping and starting the rice. Maybe adding alcohol into the mix wasn’t the smartest idea, but she needed something to take the nervous edge off.

“Is it lonely in a big house like this?” Harry asked as he dropped the chicken into the pan. “When Stace is gone, does it feel a little daunting?” 

“Sometimes.” She pursed her lips. “It’s been my house for a while now so I’m used to all the noises and I know all the neighbors. You can hear the kids playing outside, lawnmowers, or people getting home from work.‘At night it can be… it can be a bit unnerving. Cold. But Patrick was gone a lot of nights at the office, so it’s nothing I’m not used to.” A bitter scoff left her as she took a sip of wine before shaking her head, face falling. “Sorry. I know that’s the last thing you want to hear about.” 

“No.” He said simply. “I’d like to. I don’t mind.” His tongue ran over his bottom lip before he met her eyes, placing his wine glass on the counter. “Everyone needs someone to vent to sometimes, Y/N. Know m’younger than you and all but I’m not clueless when it comes to relationships.” A gentle smile softened the blow of the words. “Tell me about it if you want. You don’t have to censor yourself. Not around me. It’s just us.” 

There was a burn in her belly at the last few words. It felt… really fucking nice to be told that. That he wanted to earnestly hear her talk. He was an incredible listener, she found. It made her wonder how much of what she said in the past he had really heard. 

“Uh… well…” twirling the glass in her hand, her fingers tightened around the stem as she had to break eye contact with him. It was making her feel a little light headed. “He was cheating, as I’m sure you know. Stacy didn’t take it well. She’d cut up all his ties by the time I found her.” Her smile quirked on her lips. Her daughter had a thirst for revenge. “It was worse when I found out it wasn’t just one person but multiple women. All at his job. It’s why he moved firms.” Her lips tightened as she looked towards the sliding glass door that was open to let the air in, the sun having started to set just a bit ago. A golden glow ran over the kitchen and she had a hard time not staring at the man in front of her. 

“I… I’m not sure how much you know of myself and Patrick, but we were in a relationship when I turned 17. He was 27. I thought it was very impressive and I was so mature for my age that he chose me, but it wasn’t. It was wrong. And when I got pregnant, we had to hide it until I turned 18 and he could marry me. His parents were lovely grandparents to Stacy but awful parents to him in the way they enabled his behavior. So for a long time I just thought it was a big star crossed love story when in reality, he stole my youth from me. I don’t ever regret my daughter- don’t get me wrong.” Her look was desperate for him to believe her, but he didn’t seem to have any judgment on his face. It was a breath of fresh air considering people usually gave her pitying looks this far along. 

“I love her and I wouldn’t change it. Everything happens for a reason but… I’m just a bit bitter now. My best years spent on him and he’s fucking other women because I’m ’showing my age’ and I’m essentially aged out.” Her face curled in disgust. “I work hard on my body! I keep up with my appearance! You know? I’m not lazy. I didn’t let myself go which- even if I did, that’s no fucking excuse for cheating. Marriage was supposed to be for love, for better or for worse. At least that's what I naively thought.” It had been so long since she had someone to talk to, someone who didn’t seem to fucking judge her or try and tell her it was okay. Harry merely nodded, keeping his eyes trained on her face as she got it out. 

“It should be what marriage is for.” He replied in a bit of a lull. “I mean, I’ve never been married but… S’a simple enough concept to understand. I don’t think you were naive in thinking that. He was just a dick for taking advantage of you.” Harry didn’t like Patrick much from the start. He’d been a show off, obviously trying to compensate for something. He’d sort of steamrolled over things Y/N used to say, and even though he’d only seen them married for a few times he came over. It was a good thing they divorced in his humble opinion, and not just because he was a bit obsessed with the woman standing in front of him. She seemed to grow from it, her confidence rising tenfold.  He’d been holding her back. “I don’t think there’s much wrong with an age gap… as long as the parties are both of legal age.” He chopped the pineapple in half, making sure to make it even. “So, m’sorry you had to go through that. Stacy is great, but I wish you didn’t have to feel that way. It’s shit.” 

Y/N felt a bit validated with his words. Maybe it was the wine, but she had a feeling it was just his presence that had her relaxing. He was right on all counts, but it was a little hard to accept at times after being manipulated her whole adult life. Someone was agreeing with her that weren’t her own parents. “Thank you.” She whispered. “I’m glad at least you think so. People kept telling me that marriages have bumps in the road and I was being a bit rash, filing for divorce so quickly after I found out but… Cheating is just not something I can stomach. I think they were thinking about his money, his reputation. Cared more about how he would be seen than if I was happy. I had to do a lot of cleaning up after the divorce. Friends I had for years chose his side and… yeah. I’ve been a little lonely.” A sad laugh left her before she cleared her throat. The man probably didn’t want to hear about that. “But luckily I’ve found more fulfilling things. It’s nice when you guys come around.” Her smile grew genuinely. “I’ve always liked taking care of people. That was one perk of being in the situation I was. Being a mum was great. It’s a bit jarring now though, with her out of the house the majority of the time. So, in the long roundabout answer to your first question- yes, the big house is a bit daunting sometimes.” 

Y/N had rambled and babbled. Harry had been happy to listen, attentive even while cooking. She knew she may be embarrassed later about spilling her fucking guts out to him when he had only come over to fix her not so broken car and decided he wanted to make her dinner, but it was so fucking refreshing to have someone in her kitchen with her. 

It was embarrassing how much she missed male attention. She’d wanted to clench her thighs together when he grabbed her shoulder earlier and it was pathetic, but it was hard not to notice how wonderful Harry was. He was hardworking, intelligent, sweet, charitable, understanding and stupidly fucking handsome. He could cook too, apparently. Something her ex husband could never even attempt. 

“Thank you for sharin’ all that with me.” His voice was even and smooth as he gave her a gentle smile. “I, for one, am glad you divorced him. I think you’re incredible. You don’t deserve someone who’ll step out on you. Let out multiple times.” It truly did piss him off. The man had a woman who was willing to give the world and still managed to be greedy for other women and fucked it up. “I’ve never really understood that sort of thing but, I think you’re too good for him anyways. Know you said you feel like you wasted your youth and by the risk of sounding a bit cliche, age is just a number in this instance. You can do anything you want now that you think you would have wanted to do back then. And..” He smirked slightly. “You look like you could still be in your twenties. So I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Him acting like aging is a sin in any situation is fucking dumb considering it’s something unavoidable and sorta beautiful if you ask me. Older, wiser, more experience. It’s a good thing. To me, at least.” 

Y/N did know of his taste for older women and though she had no intention of bringing it up, she seemingly couldn’t keep her mouth shut tonight. Without permission from her mouth, the words fell out like a tumble. “Is that why you go for older women?”

The room fell silent for a minute and she could feel the return of the heat under her cheeks, eyes widening as she snapped her hand over her mouth. It wasn’t something she wanted him to know that she knew, but too fucking late now. His head tilted back up, eyes falling on her own wide ones before he let out a laugh. A reaction she hadn’t expected in the slightest. Her hand fell in a motion to try and apologize but he lifted his own to stop her, calming from the laughter as he shook his head. 

“Fuck, M’sorry. I didn’t mean t’laugh, but you looked like you scared the shit out of yourself.” He giggled, running his fingers over the corners of his mouth as they curled into a smirk. “It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize. We’re both adults here.” A clear definition that he was definitely seeing himself on her level. “It’s okay t’ask me about, love. I’m fine talking about it. You just told me details about your divorce so this seems a little tame in comparison.”

As much as she hated herself for it, her stomach flipped at the term of endearment. Harry and her hadn’t spent much time alone before but he had never called her that before. Maybe it was a bit of a bond forming being alone with him. He’d always been a bit ahead of the others in terms of maturity. Not in a creepy way like Patrick used to say about her, but in a genuine hard working way. He’d taken his jobs, career, and promises seriously. It was hard not to know how reliable he was when people constantly used that word to describe him. Seeing him as more of an equal instead of his daughter’s friend was easy when they weren’t around. There was that old soul type of thing she liked.

“I obviously did not mean for that to come out of my mouth. But uh-” She ran a hand over her dress to self-soothe. “I heard them teasing about you and one of the mum’s of the kids Stacy teaches had been bragging about…” The woman didn’t need to finish her stance before Harry laughed through his nose, trying to hide his smirk. 

“Ah.” He nodded, turning the heat off on the stove and pouring the sauce onto the chicken. “Yeah. I do, I’ve always preferred older women. I get teased for it but it’s just what I’m attracted to.” There was that thought in his mind though, wondering what the woman had been bragging about. He’d sure as hell fucked her well and thoroughly, but at the end of it he had opened his eyes and it wasn’t Y/N. It’s his common problem these days. Falling out of interest when he realized he was chasing a feeling from people that weren’t the object of his affections. “I went out with her once… went back to her place.” He shrugged. “It was alright. I was pretty up front about not being sure we clicked but she wanted me to come in, so…” He shrugged. The girl didn’t seem to have hard feelings when she texted him a few days later asking for a repeat and he declined because he was going to be here for a get together. 

“Can I ask why?” Morbid curiosity, that’s what she would call it. It was killing her since she had found out though. Why does a young man, almost in his prime, go for older women specifically? Not that she didn’t think they weren’t worth that, but it wasn’t the norm. “If it’s not too personal.”

“You can get personal with me, Y/N. I don’t mind.” He clarified, dishing some rice into the pineapple bowls he’d carved out. “I think there’s a few aspects to it but I appreciate maturity. One of my first experiences was with someone a few years older than me and it kept going from there. I enjoy intelligent conversation. Someone who can keep up and not just talk about the things girls my age talk about. Nothing wrong with them at all, but every time I’ve tried dating someone my age it’s fallen flat. I enjoy dates at nice restaurants or at home. Cooking for them, listening to music. I work a lot, I’m not much for clubs. Even pub crawls have been a lot for me at times considering I work at a bar on the weekends, work all day in a garage. People my age don’t usually seem to understand or appreciate my work ethic but.. I want a house like this one day.” He motioned around the kitchen. “I’ve been saving loads of money, staying in my apartment and making sure I don’t spend crazily. I’ve always been a bit of a romantic, so I want t’provide for someone one day. Maybe that’s a little old fashioned but It’s fulfilling to me. Want to open my own garage, maybe multiple and… I dunno, older women have always been more receptive to my plans, to the way I am. And I’m not a huge texter. I like phone calls, seeing someone in person. Dating my age is a lot of that.”

It wasn’t a shock to her that his ethics would be a turn off for younger women who sometimes got a bit in their head about the attention they needed. It wasn’t a drag or anything of that nature, but a lot of younger women relied on that sort of thing. Texting all day that he obviously wouldn’t be able to do. They deserved the relationships they wanted but so did Harry. It was a surprisingly nice answer from him. He had lots of decent reasons that made her feel a little more intrigued than she should be, but she couldn’t help it. The man was alluring. 

“And… permission to overshare a little bit?” He asked, wanting to test the waters. Y/N looked intrigued, nodding as she leaned on the counter. “Older women tend to be a bit more.. Compatible with me sexually. A bit more eager. Some are experienced but it isn’t really about that, it’s about knowing what you want. Being a little less shy in asking for what they want. Everyone’s different of course, but I find that a disappointing amount of men aren’t giving women what they want, and I’ve been happy to provide that. I’m a giver, it’s what I like. So…” His pink tongue ran over his bottom lip as he kept eye contact with her. “There’s that aspect of it too.” 

Y/N could feel the slight throb between her legs as he spoke. There was no hint of shyness in his face as he spoke to her, just matter of fact. He had no shame, if anything he seemed.. A little smug. Something that oddly made her stomach flip and flutter  as he pushed her plate towards her and settled on the opposite side of the island, sitting on the stool. 

“I.. I can see that.” She murmured, knowing she must look a little flustered. Considering it had been years since she’d had sex, just the way he was looking at her was working her up a bit further than she would ever want to admit. “I think..” If he was oversharing, maybe she should too. Or maybe that was the slight buzz the wine had provided. “I’m still trying to learn what it is I want. I was only with one person my whole life and then… After the divorce I had a one night stand and it was not at all satisfying. I’ve meant to try and go on dates more often but the few I’ve been on just didn’t feel right.” It wasn’t something she talked about often at all. She had her two girlfriends she talked to about sex- or lack thereof- and the toys they got in order to satisfy what their dates couldn’t. 

This little tidbit had Harry leaning in a bit closer, chewing the first bite of his food. It was surprisingly good for a recipe he’d found on a social media site, but he was far more interested in what Y/N had to say. “I mean it’s only natural, isn’t it? To be curious?” He waved his fork in the air. “Was he satisfying you in your marriage?” The look on her face was all he needed to see for an answer. Her lips pulled in and her gaze averted, he did feel a seedling of pity for the woman- but hope for himself. One man’s loss was another’s gain, wasn’t it? He would be able to actually pleasure her. He knew he could. He hadn’t failed yet, and there were genuine feelings there for her so… he had a lot of faith he’d be willing and able to please her. Half of the battle was just listening to her. Knowing what she wanted. “It’s okay, I can tell what your answer is. But m’sorry to hear that.” He frowned. “You deserved better than all of that. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, but you deserved a hell of a lot more for what he put you through.” Personally, Harry would never drop the ball like that. 

Realistically, Y/N was his dream woman and this was without knowing what she liked in bed. Everything about her was perfect to him, all except the pesky fact that she was the mother of one of his friends- but honestly? He was willing to risk it. She was worth that sort of risk. She had the demeanor, the charm, the intelligence, and so far, the sort of lifepath that aligned with him. He had to talk his way into it a little bit more than likely, but he was ready to try. 

“Thank you, Harry.” Y/N knew she probably looked a little flustered. She was. He was saying all the right things and she felt a weird level of comfort with him that she hadn’t experienced before. He was a man. Maybe he was younger than her, but he had a level head. He could cook. He worked multiple job, had ambitions, he knew what he wanted and he wanted to be a provider. Something that she found to be overwhelmingly sexy. She was noticing him in less than appropriate ways more and more. Like how cut his jaw was as he chewed his food, the scruff on his face, his strong, big hands. So fucking big, making the fork he held look small. His arms were built, flexing as he leaned against the countertop. The memory of his broad shoulders wasn’t too far from her brain either. “You’re… I haven’t spoken to a lot of people about that stuff. I don’t mean to take up too much of your time tonight, I know you must be tired after work but… I really appreciate you coming here, fixing my car, cooking. Talking to me. You’re great company.” 

“Like I said earlier, I like being around you.” It felt like he could see into her soul. Green peering inside of her, spreading her open. “If m’being honest, there aren’t many other places I’d rather be. M’happy to help you with whatever you need.” 

If Y/N was crazy, she’d think it was a double meaning. She’d overthink and imagine that he was implying something not so appropriate. Things that had her tummy flipping and cunt weeping. Pathetic, she knew that. Here she was, lusting after the younger man as he stared at her from across her kitchen. The sun had now set and the darkness was beginning to set in, and she wanted more than anything to take his hand and drag him upstairs to her bedroom but she had to clear her brain before she did something rash. “I enjoy spending time with you too.” Her smile was soft as she took her plate and brought it to the sink. “Just let me clean these dishes and then I’ll walk you to your car. You’ve been such a help tonight.” 

Y/N felt a little shaky as she turned the water on and let it run over the dirty pan and the other dishes she hadn’t quite gotten to. As much as washing dishes was something people usually hated, the girl found it a little therapeutic. She’d just gotten into it, relaxing just a bit when she felt a hand curl around her hip, a cleared plate set into the sink and the other hand shutting the water off on her. “What-”

“I think we’re dancing around it now, Sweetheart.” He said lowly, cuffing his other hand on her waist. Her body stilled as he pressed himself into her, his confidence high as he watched her shaky hand drop the sponge. “I think there’s something we both want and you don’t know how to ask for. And that’s okay.” His nose brushed the shell of her ear as she closed her eyes, swallowing thickly. “I know that you haven't been taken care of. I know you weren’t satisfied in the ways you deserved. I meant it when I said that there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Y’know that, right?”

“Harry, what are you doing?” Her voice was breathy as she clenched her over the counter but making no move to leave his grip. 

“I’ve been after you for a while, Y/N. I think you pretend to not notice how I look at you. I think… you were a little jealous when you found out I took that mum from the swim group out and fucked her, because you wanted it to be you. But let me assure you… I wanted it to be you, too.” His heat spread along her back as his fingers moved to splay over her tummy, the same tummy that was a mess of butterflies just under his fingertips. 

“You did?” While she should have been shutting this down considering this man was friends with her daughter… she couldn’t. Not when he was making her feel more listened to, more desired, more aroused than she had been since… well, possibly her whole life. 

“Of course, love. To be honest, I was tryin’ to give you time to adjust. To be single, to find more of yourself. You’ve blossomed so much since I’ve known you. I knew you’d probably want t’reject me because of how you know me, but I just need a chance to prove to you that I can be what you need.” The chills on her skin were unavoidable as his lips smeared over her neck, groaning quietly as he inhaled. “You smell so fucking good, y’know that? Makes me crazy. No one else smells like you… I knew touching you would ruin me.” He pulled her further into him, laying the first kiss on the hinge of her jaw. “I’d be fucked. But I’ve been fucked for a while now. No distraction took away from the fact that any body under mine wasn’t you. Wasn’t the voice I wanted saying my name. I just want to show you that m’worth the risk.” 

The low baritone of his voice was making her want to whimper. Soft, hot lips pressed a trail of gentle kisses down her throat that got progressively more wet, making her cunt follow. Leaning back into him, it was hard to fight when her body felt like it needed him. His hand pressing on her stomach, pushing her all the way back until she felt him. Her gasp was wet, a chuckle vibrated against her throat as he ground himself against her ass.

“I’d fill you up. Make you feel it all the way in here.” The pressure on her stomach suddenly made a flash of heat boil in her belly, imagining it. Craving it. It always felt like something was missing during sex anyways. “I know you need it. You need someone to worship you, to make you understand just how irresistible you are. I’ve been dying to do that for you. Makes me so fucking angry t’know the people who’ve had you haven’t pleasured you, made you unsatisfied while I was dreaming about just a fucking lick of you. Just a squeeze.” Her hand fell on top of his own, breathing a bit more labored as the length of him against her ass taunted her further. 

“You were?” The woman knew she probably sounded a bit wrecked but she was. Harry was making her needy, desperation filling her chest in a way that almost overwhelmed her. She was hungry for more, more of his touch, his lips, his confessions. 

“Mhm. Had t’get my fill in those little touches you’d give me. Running you hand over my back, brushing past me in the kitchen, grabbing my hand. I’ve been wanting to hold you like this. Kiss you until you can't breathe. Make you cum on my fingers, my tongue, my cock, make you melt just for me. S’that something you’d want, baby?” His teeth grazed her jaw getting a little whimper from her throat. “Hm? I’d like some words from you. I don’t mind doin’ most of the talking, but don’t leave me hanging.” 

“I would- yeah. I would like that.” She was indeed panting. If she was a different woman she’d probably be ashamed over how much she was actually gagging for it, but there was something that made her truly believe that Harry could back up every single claim he said. “I haven’t been touched in so long but… you’ve made me feel so good already.” The admission made him smile against her skin, she could feel it. “Is this- do you just want sex?” 

“No.” Her neck felt cold as he pulled away, manhandling her a bit and making her enjoy it far too much as she was turned and reversed in position to be facing him now. Her chin was grabbed between his fingers and his now dark eyes pinned her own. “S’not just a fuck to me. I like you, Y/N. Know it’ll be a little complicated considering the situation but to put it bluntly, I don’t give a fuck.” There was no room left for doubt with his words. “I want you. I’ve wanted you for fucking years, and unless you don’t want me, there’s nothing and no one else that’s gonna keep me from getting what I want.” When she failed to reply, he coaxed it from her. “C’mon, baby. Words.” 

“I-I want that. I just didn’t know it was so serious for you.” She felt her cheeks flush at the intensity of it all. “It’s a good thing though… You’re making me a little dizzy.”

“Yeah?” He crooned. “A little dizzy? So fucking cute. I intend to do more than that, though.” Without another word, he took her mouth. Took it like he owned it, kissed her like it was already his. 

Y/N melted into it immediately. Fell into the kiss and clutched his shirt to pull him closer as he made her brain empty of any thoughts but ones pertaining to him. How big his hands were, how easily he moved her around, how soft his lips were, how he tasted, the slight smell of motor oil underlying the fresh, clean smell that followed him over here. It was pathetic, maybe, to completely resign herself, to hand herself over to the younger man but… could anyone blame her?

Yes, he was younger. But he kissed like he had been hand plucked to be attached to her lips. His tongue brushed into her mouth and she moaned out loud, allowing him to kiss her any way he wanted. Y/N was touch starved and she knew it, but there was something electric about the way he held her. The way he kissed like he was starving, like he couldn’t get enough of her. His hand slipped down her back and greedily palmed her ass, squeezing it tight enough to make her whimper. It had been so fucking long since someone touched her like they knew what they were doing, like they knew what to do to make her feel good. Harry acted like she belonged to him already, pulling her leg up over his waist as he pressed her into the counter. “Hop up.” he whispered against her lips, using his hands to cuff her waist and tug her right up on the countertop. 

Immediately her legs were spread and his body was between them. While he was somewhat lean, he was broad. His arms were big, his hands were too. She had to spread a bit and let her dress ride up as he manhandled her, yanking her back so she was right up against him. The sweetest whimper left her lips and translated to his, making him pull back to look down at her. Her smeared lip gloss and wide, glossy eyes looking up at him. Hair a little messy when it was usually styled, she looked… alive. The way he wanted her to feel with him. “M’gonna spread you open and get a taste, because I’ve been fucking dying for it for years.” He told her bluntly. “But just a taste. I’ll spend hours between these perfect damn thighs tonight… but I need to be inside of you.” He felt like he toed the line between unhinged and the most control he ever had. The man knew what he wanted, he told her what she was going to get, and yet he felt like he had never been more passionate about something in his life. Finally getting the chance to be with the woman he wanted was something that he had been counting down the days for. Nothing could stop him from doing this. 

“Yes, please. I want you… I want you to take over.” She swallowed. It wasn’t always this way. Sometimes Y/N enjoyed the idea of being on top, enjoyed teasing, enjoyed the thought of being in charge for a little bit- but never in her life had she wanted a man to just do whatever the fuck he wanted. It was because she knew he would know how to please her. 

That assumption wasn’t wrong. 

Seeing the man get on his knees in front of the counter, ordering her to take the dress off and toss it to the side to expose her plain cotton bra and underwear, maybe she should feel a little apprehensive- but the only thing she felt was needy. Desperate. Wanted. The look in his eye told her that he wanted her and he wanted her more desperately than she even knew. His lips kissed over her knees and upper thighs, obviously pacing himself as his fingers tugged the waistband of her panties and slowly peeled them off her body. 

Harry wished he spent a bit more time admiring her. He wished he had the self control at this point to not just pull her to the edge of the counter and take a thick lick over her glistening cunt and nuzzle his face into it regardless of the fact he was getting wet- but he didn’t. He pulled her up and onto his tongue, getting the delicious little gasp he had been dying to hear. Manicured nails gripped the countertop behind her and buried in his hair, wet gasps leaving her mouth. Garbles of his name and calling to god, but he was busy. Getting her flavor on every inch of his taste buds and committing it to memory, dipping his tongue into her entrance and lapping up to her clit where he sucked lightly, he was self serving. This was for him and she was reaping the benefits. 

“Oh my f-fucking god.” Y/N said in disbelief, watching green meet her eyes as his nose nudged her clit. “Oh, you’re so fucking good, Harry. Holy fuck.” It was hard to comprehend that this man was on his knees for her when just a few nights ago he had been helping her set out snacks for their friend group as they had a hang out at the pool. Seeing him as the man he was, she couldn’t believe she’d never seen him in this light- not seriously. He had completely blown her expectations out of the water as his tongue flicked over her entrance, pressing against it and making her curse repeatedly. 

The sound of a belt clanking on the floor was mostly ignored- but his fingers inside of her weren’t. In fact, she teared up slightly at the feeling. “Yes, fucking… finger me, feel me.” She growled, her thighs pressing him closer. He had no problems, humming against her as he played with her clit and opened her up with his fingers- surely for her benefit considering he had felt quite impressive against her ass. “Shit, I can’t believe this.” The laugh was quickly melded into a moan as he pulled her clit back into his mouth and added a second finger. 

Harry shook his head into her cunt. He felt her clench around his fingers and the sounds of pleasure above him, and he didn't want to stop but if he didn’t, he was positive he was going to blow his load all over the kitchen floor. There was no bothering to wipe his chin as he stood back up, gripping her face for another deep kiss. “M’obsessed. Tastes even better than I expected… You’re never going to get me away from it.” He wasn’t even joking. He would gladly call off his shift from the bar tomorrow if it meant getting to spend that time tasting her. “But I need to get inside of you. I need to make you cum around my cock.” He went to get his wallet from his pocket but was surprised when she stopped him. 

“I’m clean. I’ve- I’ve been tested and I’m on birth control-” Harr interrupted her with a loud groan, fisting his cock in his hand as his pants fell to his ankles. 

“Thank fuck.” He laughed. “This may be over quickly, but this isn’t the last time I’m in you. I want to make you cum over and fucking over- but I don’t want to waste my load on the floor when it’s better suited inside of you.” He watched her to answer, but he was pushing in before she got a word in. 

“Oh- shit.” Y/N clutched him, looking at him with wide eyes as he sunk into her. Mouth hanging open, she adjusted to the stretch as his head dropped against hers and he kept her eye contact as he sunk in inch by inch. Their breathing mingling as the feeling encompassed both of them. “Oh my god- you’re so fucking big.” Her voice was unfamiliar to herself, sulky and whiny with the pleasure she felt from being stretched. 

“I know, baby.” He grinned, holding on to the nape of her neck. “You’ll get used to it.” Without another word, he pulled out to thrust back in. The process was repeated as her hot, slippery cunt clenched around his cock and tried desperately not to give it up each and every time. 

It was, again, better than he imagined. Nothing could have prepared him for how good it would be to sink into the perfect hole, how she would grip him and suck in deeper. How she’d soak him and how her fingers would dig into his arm, how all he’d be able to see and smell and taste was her. It completely engulfed him and he had no urge to do anything but stay right here. “Okay?” He checked on her as he ground himself into her, her clit brushing over the hair right above his cock and getting it wet. 

“I’m so good.” She slurred, lost in how good it felt to have him inside of her. “I’m so full.” It was insane to her, knowing how she had been treated last time. Even with his direct approach, she’d never felt more cared for, more appreciated. He was working with her, checking in, all while making the first moves that made her feel like he had been hand made for her. “Go harder. I can take it.” 

Y/N had never been fucked the way she wanted and that had been apparent to Harry. He just had a feeling and he knew that she was going to need him in ways she hadn’t experienced. Ways he was more than happy to deliver. “I’ll give you anything you want, Baby.” His nose brushed against hers. “Just make sure to scream my name nice n’loud when you cum for me.” 

It was unlike sex that she thought was real. Y/N held on to Harry as he plowed into her, his grip on her tight as his eyes looked down at where they were connected. It was wet, so fucking wet and creamy all over the base of his cock that she hadn’t known she could do. Her thighs were spread out and over his forearms as he fucked into her like it was his one and only job, whimpering out his name as he gave it to her the way she’d needed. “I knew you’d b-be able to give me what I wanted.” Her words were jostled as her body was, but he replied with another hot kiss. 

Messy, full of tongue and wet, she relished in his desperate need to taste her again. It didn’t matter that her chin was wet or she was getting bruised on her hips, she’d finally felt fulfilled in sex. “Yeah? Y’knew I’d be able to give it to you?” He crooned. “M’glad you knew, because I plan on being the only one doing it.” The words were completely serious and possessive and Y/N loved it. Feeling this level of desire was brand new to her and she didn’t want to give it up. 

“Uh-huh, I- I want you to be the one to give it to me.” As wrong as some people may see it, this was the epitome of a man. Even if he was younger- he had a plan, he had two jobs he’d held for years, a place of his own… He had more than some people her own age. Dedication and loyalty like his were irreplaceable. Maybe she was crazy in indulging in this, in allowing him to have her, but after wasting years with a man who didn’t want her- she wasn’t going to turn away someone who obviously desired her, wanted to worship her- and made her feel like she wanted to do the same back. 

“Good. I wasn’t planning on letting anyone else get a taste. You’re going to be my woman, this is going to be my pussy, M’gonna keep making you feel good. I don’t care who has shit to say about it.” He grunted, pressing theirs mouths together again as he felt her get close. The rippling around his cock and her soft whimpers against his mouth, her hand gripping him hard, he was close to finally fulfilling his fantasy. His dream girl letting go around him and making a mess. “I can feel it, y’know. Feel how you’re gonna cum for me.” He panted against her mouth. 

Y/N felt lightheaded in the best way, her body tingling and the pressure in her stomach building with each scrape of his tip against the spot no one else had reached- or even bothered to look for. Harry was perceptive and keen on her, about to make her orgasm from penetration for the very first time. In all her years she had thought something was wrong, but it turned out that she’d just been with shit people. Her ex husband, the attempts at hook ups, they had no idea how to work her body… But Harry? It seemed like he’d written the manual from the first time he touched her. The only thing she could think about was the pleasure and how good he looked giving it to her. 

Lips swollen and teeth grit, vein on his neck visible, his arms flexed as he railed her. It was like fucking her was his purpose, and fuck- he was fulfilling it. “I am.” She breathed, the tension getting tighter in her stomach. Again, those tears rose in her eyes as each thrust jolted the pleasure inside of her. “I am, I’m gonna cum for you Harry.” Remembering at the last minute that he wanted her to say his name, she sure as hell gave it to him.  “Please, Harry…. Just keep fucking me, give it to me, you’re right where I n-need.” It was right there, she could fucking taste it. “Harry, Harry-”

“Cum for me.” He coaxed. “C’mon, baby. First of many, show me how you cum on my cock. Get me nice and wet- fuck, you’re gorgeous.” The man was in awe of how beautiful she was, but even more about how good it felt as she began to finish on his prick. Her mouth dropping and her eyes watering as she let out a slew of cusses, the quivering of her cunt making it hard to hold on. “Fucking beautiful, that’s my girl. F-Fuck.” 

Y/N felt like she was floating. Pleasure hit every nerve, white hot and tingling. She had no idea what was coming out of her mouth but she felt the burn in her eyes as a tear fell down her cheek, clinging to him as each thrust got that sweet spot and made her tremble in his arms. He didn’t stop, the dark noises he made only spurring her on further. She was wet and she knew she must have completely soaked him. The wet sounds had gotten louder and the way he had groaned let her know she had to have gushed around his cock. “Harry, Harry- H, oh my god.” She bleated, nails digging into his arm. The constant stimulation was only making her more wet and he seemed to be loving it. 

Harry was drunk on the feeling, his own orgasm trailing right behind hers as he worked her through it. She’d made a mess, one he was happy to have all over his skin. The scent of her on him would be his reward, her marks even more so. “M’gonna cum.” He growled. “Where? Where do y’want my cum, baby? Tell me where you want it.” 

“Inside. Inside me, please, give it to me there.” Her legs wrapped around him tighter, making it nearly impossible for him to pull out- like he’d ever want to. His balls tightened at the words, eyes blazing as he looked down at her face. She seemed just as far gone as him, the suction of her soaked channel making him feel borderline insane.

“You- Fuck, Yeah? You want me to give you my load in that perfect cunt?” His grip on her tightened, sure to leave bruises but that was a problem for a later time. It had been a fantasy of his forever, his spunk dripping from her swollen pussy and now she wanted it- was begging for it. There was no mistaking her rapid nod, head tipped up at him as she whispered ‘please, please, please, give it to me’ and fuck, Harry was only so strong. 

He did exactly as asked, his sloppy thrusts hard as he grunted while coming to his end. It flashed over his vision as the loudest groan left his swollen lips, hips stuttering as he buried deep and let loose. Spurts of cum leaving his tip as he unloaded inside of her, the pulsing of his prick felt by both of them as he emptied his balls of every drop of cum. Claiming her, marking her in a symbolic way and the way he’d always been desperate to do. 

There was little hesitation as he took her mouth again, giving her a deep kiss. Tongue running over the roof of her mouth before sucking on her tongue, the most unhinged kiss he’d felt in his life as she clung to him and her cunt continued to milk him of every little bit. “Fuck.” He laughed in disbelief against her mouth. He was coated in a light sheen of sweat, Y/N’s hair was a mess and he was still snugly wrapped up in her as he gently moved her back so she was more comfortable on the counter. His hand came up to stroke her cheek, watching her hazy eyes look back into his own. This was his wet dream come true, but Y/N had no idea the man she had just unleashed. He was just… happy. Satisfied, motivated and fucking happy.  This wasn’t just a fuck for him. “Meant what I said.” His voice was hoarse as he fawned over her, adjusting her hair so it didn’t stick to her forehead. “M’gonna keep you. This isn’t a one and done and I plan on treating you the way you’ve always fuckin’ deserved.” His lips sampled hers again, feeling her arms come up over his shoulders as she reciprocated. “You’re my dream woman, Y/N. M’gonna make sure m’your dream man.”

[pomefioredove]

So people use Kalim, right? Like pretend to be his friend because he has money-

What if Kalim's crush is just like "Yeah I grew up poor....anyways! I bought you this gold bracelet! Probably not real gold, but I thought it'd fit your style." And is just always pulling up with gifts and little trinkets and just refuses to let Kalim spend any money 😭 I also imagine if Kalim gave them a gift, they'd just start bawling because they don't know how to accept gifts-

:3c I love a little kalim posting

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the mystery of the magi

type of post: short fic characters: kalim additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, realizing now that I went a liytle off-prompt, sorry u-u

You gave Kalim one rule.

One rule. You had no expectations, no requirements, no shopping list.

Just one rule... that happened to be impossible for him to follow.

"No money?" Jamil asks, watching Kalim pace the room. "You can't spend any money? So no clothes, no jewelry, no games?"

It's far past curfew, but even Jamil had long forgotten about that. That's how strange this whole thing is.

Kalim has never looked so worried. "Not a thaumark. They said so!"

"Did they...?"

Of course. Jamil has thought you were weird from the day Kalim started coming home with plastic toys and friendship bracelets, "gifts" of yours. But this is just absurd.

The heir to one of the richest families in the world has days to find you the perfect birthday gift, and he can't spend any money.

Kalim's eyes are wide with thought, which is a strange look on him. "They say that my presence is enough..."

"But it's not," Jamil finishes the thought for him. Kalim had always given gifts as love- handing out gold and jewels like they were candy- which made him a treat for... well, most of NRC. But not you.

"Well... there's plenty you can do without spending," Jamil says. "You could... cook something, or plan a nice date..."

Kalim pouts. "It's not enough! Everything they get me is so... perfect... I want to do the same!"

Perfect, meaning the cheap toys from claw machines, drawings, handmade jewelry, half-edible cookies... Kalim keeps everything you give him. Everything. His room is beginning to look like the prize shelf at an arcade.

"This is quite the conundrum, isn't it..." Jamil mutters. "Are you sure I can't-"

"No! I need to come up with it on my own! They're just... so good at gift-giving. I wonder how they do it..." Kalim sighs. Jamil rolls his eyes.

"Then... perhaps I can offer some advice. The sort of gift you're looking to give doesn't come from here," Jamil says, pointing to his head. He trails his finger down to his chest.

"...It comes from here."

Though that was complete nonsense, Kalim lights up. "I-I think I understand! Thanks, Jamil!"

And then he's gone.

.

Trapped in a circle of friends and Scarabia students, you awkwardly smile at their birthday wishes.

Grim's greedy little paws dig into the homemade cake before the candles are out, getting icing all over himself. You chuckle, a warm, loving sound that makes Kalim beam. Good so far.

"Time for gifts. We do have a curfew to mind," Jamil says, and Grim laughs maniacally, reaching out for the first box.

"Actually," Kalim says, smiling as if it were his own birthday. "I was hoping I'd get to give my gift first!"

You chuckle. "I don't see why not,"

Kalim returns the gesture, and he stands on the table, drawing everyone's attention to him. Jamil raises an eyebrow.

"I'm not seeing a box!" Grim shouts, and you shush him. Kalim clears his throat.

"I'm usually not so bad at this, but I had a lot of trouble thinking of the perfect present for you... until Jamil said I was thinking too much here... and not here," he says, pointing first to his head, and then lower, to his throat.

You give Jamil a confused look, but he looks just as lost.

"So... that's what I'm going to do. Happy birthday!"

Everyone watches in some mix of amusement and horror as Kalim begins to sing... in your honor.

Without any accompanying music, he performs, in front of everyone you know, a song about everything he loves about you. Even Jamil looks horrified.

When it's over, the room is quiet. Everyone is staring at Kalim as if his head had fallen off.

Then, slowly, you stand. And you clap.

You're beaming. "That was amazing! Again! Again!"

Kalim grins, unphased by the weird looks everyone is giving you two, and he hops off the table to pull you into a hug.

"I'm so glad you liked it!"

"Liked it!? That was..." you laugh, hugging him back. "That was perfect."

"I can sing it as much as you want! Every night, if it makes you happy!"

"Sevens help me..." Jamil sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Trey gives him a sympathetic pat on the back.

[beomcoups]

F.U.C.K.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex!bf Seungcheol x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, small fluff, lovers to exes au, 18+

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been on and off forever and you couldn't leave him alone if you tried. You have an itch only Seungcheol can scratch.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral, missionary, riding, praise, dirty talk, creampie, clit stim, multiple orgasms, a bit of overstimulation, Coups is a lover boi, angsty feelings about the relationship

𝐀𝐍: Thank youuuuu @hobeemin & @wongyuseokie for reading this for me and Beezy you are the best hype woman ever <3. Also thank you @aaagustd for making this sexy ass banner 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 💿 F.U.C.K- Victoria Monet, Dirty Dancer- Orion Sun, Idea 686- Jayla Darden, Strings- iyla, Behind- Woodz, Forgive Me- Chloe x Halle, Art- Tyla, I Could Imagine- Alina Baraz, Good& Plenty- Alex Isley, Masego and Jack Dine, Skin Tight- Ravyn Lenae Steve Lacy, Idea 683- Jayla Darden, Body and Soul- Emotional Oranges and Biig Piig, Butterflies- Tyla, Between Us- Alina Baraz, Nasty- Tinashe, Under The Moon - Alex Isley, Jack Dine (spotify)

It’s complicated. Your Facebook relationship status has been that way for over a year. If someone asked, you wouldn’t know how to define your relationship with Seungcheol. You can’t say you’re just friends when the love is still there, but you can’t stay together longer to just work. Something happens, and you argue and split up. Months, sometimes years, can go by, and you feel like you’ve finally moved on, but all he has to do is call, or you have an itch that needs scratching, and there he is, ready to make it go away.

He stands there in front of you, his dark hair clipped and trimmed perfectly, highlighting the handsome features on his face: his dark, round eyes, high cheekbones, and plump pink lips. He comes dressed in a simple white tee and sweats, with an overnight bag in hand, as he knows he is staying the night. Seungcheol smirked as he walked in, placing a small kiss on your temple. 

“Well, hello to you too,” you say, shutting the door behind you. You watch him take off his shoes, walk into your living room, and admire the view of the city through your picture windows. You just moved into your high-rise condo a couple of months ago, and your job promotion allows you to level up in life and enjoy nice things for once. Your place looks straight out of a movie, with your tastes added. Your favorite color is blue, and you included it in your decor. 

“You kept the couch?” Seungcheol points at the royal blue sectional sofa with matching gold-trimmed throw pillows you bought from your favorite thrift store. “Yes,” you say proudly. “That couch is my pride and joy. We’ve been through a lot together.” Memories about the many times you spent together on the couch, clothed and unclothed, cloud your mind. He chuckles as you sashay to the kitchen, grabbing a bottled water. You offer him one, and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the city's shining lights. He’s been in your life for five years, meeting at a grocery store with both of your hands on the last bag of cherries. He relented, letting you have them in exchange for your number. You didn’t give it to him, hoping that you would see him again. At the time, you just moved to the city, and if you were meant to meet again, you would give him your number. A couple of weeks later, you did when you went to a birthday dinner with your former roommate. His eyes twinkled when you exchanged glances, and you felt like it was fate.  “You did it,” he felicitates you. “You did everything we talked about doing all those years ago. I’m proud of you.”

You would have late nights with him in your shitty old apartment, eating Chinese takeout in bed and talking about your hopes for the future. Seungcheol wanted to have it all: a nice house, cars, and riches beyond his dreams. All you wanted was a good life. You grew up poor, raised by a single mom who worked two jobs to ensure you had a roof over your head. You understood each other in that way, and it worked between you two for a while… until it didn’t.

“You got your high rise before me,” you appear beside him. “What does it feel like, being the top broker in your firm?”

“It’s nice,” he nods. “It keeps me busy.”

You knew that all too well. One of the reasons you broke up was time. His work felt more important than maintaining a relationship with you. You swear if someone called in the middle of the night, he would answer in a heartbeat. It’s not like you aren’t busy; you work on Wall Street. But you still made time to be with him at all important events and when it mattered most. The energy wasn’t reciprocated.

“I see nothing has changed,” you say, taking a swig of your water.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I think I am ready for it, though.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah. There is no point in having all of this if there is no one to share it with, right?”

You didn’t have to say anything back because he was right. What is the point of working hard, making more money than your parents could ever dream of, traveling, and having life experiences without having someone to share them with? It also incredibly frustrates you. Why did it take five years for him to get to this point? The back and forth, blocking each other on all accounts. Was it worth it?

You two are silent, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. His fingers slip in between yours, pulling you closer to him. Just being near him makes your heart skip several beats. No one like him can melt you just by his touch and presence. Yes, he can irritate you to no end, but he also makes your soul smile.

“I missed you,” he says, gazing at you. 

“I know.” 

You kiss him, the magic stirring in your chest as he returns your feelings; sparks all around you two like fireworks. Your hands explore him fervently, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on your couch. He unhooks your bra, helping you out of your shirt and exposing your breasts. He bites his lip as he palms his growing bulge, the very thought of his lips all over you making you hot.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. 

You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom, climbing over your king-size bed. He follows you closely, his index finger sliding up your thigh. It feels electric, having him touch you again after so long. You have tried moving on, going on dates, and having one-night stands here and there. But deep down, those people weren’t him. Seungcheol knows your body, what makes you tick, your boundaries, and what drives you crazy. It’s exhausting trying to find that chemistry with someone else. Too bad you can’t just make it work. 

He slides your shorts and panties off with one hand, your naked body being illuminated by the moonlight. He notices your sheets, trying to hold it in before succumbing to a belly laugh. 

“Cherry sheets? Really?” He says in between breathes.

“Come on now,” you chuckle. “You know I love my little house on the prairie sheets.” “I swear you were born in the wrong generation,” Seungcheol expresses, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah, maybe,” you muse over his words. “I’m glad I met you in this lifetime, though.” He admires you, his thumb caressing your cheek before he kisses you again. This time, it’s more heartfelt, your bodies hungry for another as each minute passes. His hand travels down to your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart and slowly entering a digit into your wet core. Seungcheol licks his lips, watching your eyes roll back as you unravel his arms. “Shit,” you moan. “Keep doing it just like that.”

“I’m going to do more than that,” he whispers in your ear. 

Seungcheol was already great with his fingers, slipping one more in you as his tongue played in circles on your neck, your sweet-smelling perfume intoxicating to him. He loves the way your brows furrow when he goes deep, your mind focused on nothing else but cumming all over his hand. You play with your clit, drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you, with your wetness pooling onto your sheets. You two are connected in a way, in your own little bubble surrounded by ecstasy.

“Fuck baby,” you pant as pressure builds up in your stomach. “I’m almost there.” He pulls his fingers out of you quickly, snapping you out of your zone, and you whimper in protest. He aggressively pulls down his pants and briefs, revealing his hardened cock already leaking with precum. He slides down to your entrance, his face nose deep in between your legs before he dives in; his tongue attacks your sweet nectar. Sensational couldn't even begin to describe how you feel. He eats you with an enthusiasm that almost makes you laugh despite the deep pleasure he brings you. “You taste better than I remembered,” he mouths. “Cum for me.”

Your body is at its brink, ready to fall, when Seungcheol slips his fingers in, working together with his tongue to make sure you hit that pool of ecstasy. Your hands grip his hair, and your orgasm hits you like cool water on a warm day. You feel him smirk against your thigh, leaving you with lasting, small kisses before lifting his face and revealing your essence on the lower half. You cover your mouth to hold back your giggles, and he rolls his eyes, leaning over and kissing your lips. “I’m not sorry,” you breathe. “You knew what you were doing.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he smirks. “Especially when I’m going to make you do it again.”

Seungcheol lifts your leg, pulling himself back as he rubs his throbbing dick against your entrance. Your eyes grow wide as he taps your sensitive, swollen clit, a mischievous grin on his face. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says as if reading your thoughts. “I’m going to start slow.” “You don’t want me to blo—” you start to protest. “No, I’ve waited long enough,” his deep and velvety voice serves as a warning. FUCK.

He enters you inch by inch, stretching you out the way you like, your fingers already gripping the sheets. You look at him through a hazy daze, his focus on burying himself deep inside of you, bringing you a deep satisfaction. You enjoy watching his Adam’s apple shift when he moans, his voice barely audible while he dives into you. You remember the first time you slept together; he had your legs over his shoulder, fucking you long and deep on top of your blue couch at your old place. You both didn’t intend for it to happen that way; you were caught up in the highs of seeing a band you both enjoy, and one thing led to another. His dick is long with a bit of a curve, fitting perfectly like your pussy was molded and made for him. No one has even come close. 

“Give it to me,” you breathe. “Please, I need you bad.” Seungcheol loves it when you beg for it, and he obliges, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. Maybe it’s because you love him, but he is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. The way his hips roll as he snaps into you, watching him come in and out of you with your wetness coating him, turns you on. Your hands grasp his face, your thumb slipping into his mouth as he fucks you silly. You can barely form words in your head, let alone say anything else but “fuck” and “make me cum”. He fucks you in a way that makes you have wet dreams and leaves you with a puddle in your sheets. If he were a Greek god, he would be Eros, the god of love and sex. That’s how bad he has you. “Turn over,” you grit your teeth. You lean up and flip him over, his throbbing cock still inside you as you are on top of him. You let your body take over, riding him while his hands are placed firmly on your breasts. You set the pace, and he follows, a harmonious rhythm between the two of you, your senses heightened to another level. You are on this incredible high, sliding on his shaft while you vigorously play with your clit, ready to cum. “Did you miss this?  He teases you as he grinds harder into you. “Did you miss sitting on this dick until you cum?” You nod fervently, your hand still playing with your clit, and you are ready to explode. 

“Fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I’m close. Let’s come together like we always do.” You erupt, screaming his name while he sloppily pumps into you, his hair sweaty and his succulent lips red from biting. He leans up and kisses you hard, your moans and words of praise swallowed and digested. Whatever you were going to say, he felt it more, your hearts beating in unison powered by your feelings for each other. He talks you through it, helping you come down from your high before he releases his own, spilling into you until he is completely spent. You’ve been on birth control for years, and Seungcheol is the only person you’ve let hit without a condom. It just feels so right with him. You roll off of him, collapsing on your pillow as you try and catch your breath. His breathing is relaxed, and when you gaze at him, his eyes are closed, already half asleep. You attempt to get out of bed, but he grabs your arm, pulling you close to him. 

“Stay,” he kisses your shoulder. “I sleep better when you’re with me.” 

You can’t deny him when he is in this state, pulling on your heartstrings like that. 

“Fine, you win,” you say without much effort. 

Glancing at the time, it’s after 12, and fatigue finally hits you at least. Snuggling into him, you fall into a deep sleep, but not before admitting that you still love him and would do anything for him. 

The sunlight is not kind as it peers through your windows and wakes you up a little after 9. You had forgotten to draw the curtains before you fell asleep, but you didn’t have much energy left after the night you had. You woke him up after three, sucking his cock until he exploded down your throat, and he returned the favor by eating you out until you were ripe from overstimulation. You made such a mess that you had to change your sheets and listen to him teasing you about your “old lady” sheets. Whatever, you liked them.

You rolled over, and Seungcheol was already awake, scrolling through his phone. He notices you and kisses your forehead before removing your blanket and smacking your ass.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, leaning back against the headboard.

You chuckle as you get out of bed, grab your silk robe, and walk into the bathroom. You feel sore; last night’s shenanigans are indeed catching up with you. You just want to lay in bed and relax, but you have this nagging feeling in your stomach. You could brush it off and deal with it later, but knowing you, you will overthink, turning it into something it's not. You have to know how he feels.

Finishing up in the bathroom, you leave to find him setting orange juice on your nightstand with a couple of ibuprofen. He is only dressed in his sweats and nothing underneath, your center aching for him despite the tenderness you feel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading your look. You have never had a good poker face.

You sit down on the bed, take your two pills, and wash them down with orange juice. You allow yourself to get your thoughts in order. You're unsure what to say, but you know the conversation needs to be had.

“What are we doing?” you blurt out. “I love you, and you never stopped loving me. Why can’t we just get it right?”

The silence is too deafening for your liking. It would be like you to tear the band-aid off first thing in the morning. But you hate being in the dark, not knowing what the future will hold. You’re not saying that you have to jump the broom, but you have to know if there’s any chance he feels the same way you do.

“I-I-m sorry,” you shake your head. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you first thing in the morning. Forget I said anything.” 

You attempt to leave the room before Seungcheol catches your arm and motions for you to sit down. Grudgingly, you do, sitting on your ottoman and facing him. “You didn’t even give me a chance to respond,” he complains. “You can’t always assume how I feel is something bad. Give me a chance.” You nod, knowing deep down he is right. “You are right,” He admits. “I love you, and this song and dance we’ve been doing for years is tired. I came to you last night because I missed you and I need you. You’re the only one in my life who has always kept it straight with me, even when you get on my nerves.” You smirk at his comment, knowing it’s true. “But we have also been apart for a long time, and as much as I want to jump back into our usual routine, I recognize we have grown up a bit and need to get to know each other as our different selves.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words, unsure what to say. “I also don’t want to see anyone else,” he breathes. “You are the only person I want to see, to do this with.” He points at the sheets, and you roll your eyes. It would be like him to somehow bridge it back to sex. 

“So…” your voice trails off. “What are we then? We are more than friends but not together? I don’t understand.” “I want to be with you,” he grabs your hands. “If we fight and storm off to our houses, I’d rather it be that then we break up and don’t talk for months at a time. I hate that.” You nod, finally understanding what he is saying. He is scared of the future, just like you are. But in this life, you would rather go through it with him than anyone else. You have too much time and feelings just to throw it away. “Maybe we can try talking to someone about it this time around?” You say. “A therapist or something? I want to be with you, and maybe working through our issues to understand each other better sometimes is what we need.” “Yeah, I’m open to that.” He hugs you, embracing you tightly before leaving sweet kisses on your face. You are deathly ticklish, and he knows it. He moves his kisses elsewhere until you find yourself in your bed, his body towering over yours. He leaves you one more kiss on your lips before laying his head on your chest. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispers.

You look down and smile, caressing the dark stresses in his hair.

“Yeah. We will be.”

[hypnos333]

Helloooo! I saw that your requests were open for Hazbin- how about a reader who's a seraphim? Kind of Lucifer's protégé/child way before the creation of Eden, Adam, and Lilith.

And he just kind of left them up there alone and neglected because of her association/kind of Dad!Lucifer. So, it's kind of angsty seeing as how Lucifer was a better Dad to Charlie and the reader grew with envy and fell into that ring along with her brother (I've been seeing hc/rumor a lot) Cain.

What would happen their first meeting again? If this is too much I don't really mind so no worries! Have a nice day and thanks for reading!!

A/N: I’m sorry but I go by biblical too so this might be different but same concept and storyish

Like father like daughter

Lucifer x daughter Reader

Synopsis: Your dad left you young now you left him

How it started

You are my Sunshine My only sunshine

You make me happy When skies are grey

Little you giggles at your father’s little song for you and only you. You were an angel whose mother was long gone leaving just you and your father. You made grabby hands towards him making his heart melt before lift you up.

“Boop” you cutely said as you boop his nose making him chuckle. “Boop” he said back making you giggle this time.

“Okay baby it’s time for me to go to work so Uncle Castiel is gonna watch you okay baby?” He asked you making you nod happily before rushing to your uncles arms.

You never knew that was the last time you would see him and with that you cried and cried for your dad until Sera and the other Angels showed you he forgot about you, he had a wife and daughter….

You watched as he singed the same lyrics he sang to you to her. You were only 5 and parentless watching your father abandon you but staying for another that his. That’s when you grew up odd with another angel. You were evil or as they say a bad apple.

You were Cain’s secret friend encouraging him to kill his brother Abel. That when you were sent down in hell where your dad is but you never cared to look for him finding some friends of your own.

You were older and more mature then her but she was the youngest, and you were the oldest. Does that mean you had to made the sacrifice to be left?

Even so it hurts and your growing hate towards your father and sister grew stronger by the centuries.

With Lucifer though he was trying everywhere to find you, You were no where to seen in heaven and no where on earth so you must be in hell. But even then he couldn’t find you.

You grew close to Cain when he came to hell after being full of pride and thinking he could live without God and with his punishment. You saw him as a brother the only family you considered. You were never gonna be ready to let your other family in your life and you meant that.

When you were both getting ice cream You heard something. “___!” you turned around to see lucifer huffing and puffing finally catching up to you.

“My Sunshine! Woah have you grown into a-” you punched him in the face. You the eldest of Lucifer punched him in the face and my god it felt great to do. Your unbelievable smile widen as you saw his pain. Call it fucked up as you will but you almost laugh on how pathetic he was and to believe you looked up you him.

“Don’t… Don’t call me that. I thought we both grew out of that nickname a long time ago” You mumbled before turning away from him having nothing else to say.

“___ I was trying to protect you! Don’t you understand I was going to come back for you. I-“COME BACK TO ME? NOW THATS BULLSHIT “DAD” BECAUSE SPENDING TIME WITH YOUR OTHER BORN WAS NOT LOOKING FOR ME” You interrupted him turning into your full demon form Lucifer looked at you in shocked and stunned.

“I was 5 waiting for my own father to come home” You stated calmly as Lucifer looked at you with tears in his eyes.

“Please give me another chance, I love you too much to let you go” He pleaded taking you hand but you yanked it straight away.

“You gonna know how it feels to let go of the person you” You growled before walking away from him.

“You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please…. Don’t take my sunshine away” He prayed as tears slipped down his eyes reaching out to you knowing your already far from him. knowing he lost his firstborn hurt

“Daddy! teach me how to dance!” A little you say as Lucifer looked up as a little you held your hand towards him he tried to reached but then you just faded. That little girl was long gone the moment he didn’t take you with him.

[stevieschrodinger]

So what if like the thing that makes Alpha and Omega pairs, true mates or whatever, is like a detectable thing that they can test for. And like, everyone has their little blood test at birth and then on say, their 18th birthday, the Alpha gets informed as to who their omega is.

Obviously it's a bit of a sexist deal and lots of Omega and their supporters are trying to get it changed so that both parties are informed, to make it fair, and that is getting some traction but right now, the Alpha gets told and the Omega has to wait for them to show up.

Except when Eddie, fucking excited as all hell to meet his Omega finally, opens his envelope to find Steve Harrington's name starring back at him and Eddie just. He just can't. Steve's one of the biggest bitches at Hawkins high. And even if Eddie can, sort of, get past that, Steve's a snob. He lives in a fucking mansion and has a nice car and preppy clothes and yeah...Eddie is going to get rejected stone cold and that would be fair because he doesn't have a single thing to offer and Omega like Harrington.

Eddie burns the envelope.

And yeah, he can't help but watch Steve a little more now that he like, Knows, but he does his best to put it behind him.

And Steve gets into a fight with Nancy wheelers new Omega, when Nancy gets her envelope, and it's not Steve's name inside and it looks like Jonathan came out on top and Steve...well, he looks beaten and sad and that nearly makes Eddie cave but...no. no.

Right up until he has Steve under his hands, pinned to a boathouse wall with a bottle to his throat and Eddie's been thinking of Steve has his Omega for so long it just kind of slips out. Eddie whispers it, 'Omega' and the bottle drops to the floor and shatters more.

And Eddie has to watch it play out from close range on Steve's face, dawning realisation. Deep hurt. And then anger. An angry shield that comes down as he pushes Eddie off.

"Dustin explain to Munson what's up, I'll be outside a minute.". And Steve just stomps out and there's fuck all Eddie can do about it.

And then he kinda gets distracted by hell dimension stuff. For a bit. And Steve's clearly fucking angry with him and Eddie, well, what the fuck is Steve expecting Eddie to do, right? Steve would never have wanted him in the first place. So Eddie is fucking angry. And it comes out spiteful, calling Steve 'big boy' like he knows it'll rile Steve up. Throwing his jacket at Steve so he will cover up, because he can't bare to look at all the skin Steve is showing, especially with fucking Wheeler hanging around. And if it got something of Eddie's on Steve, well then, it doesn't fucking matter does it? Doesn't mean anything.

And it's not until it's all done, and Eddie wakes up fucking high as a kite on pain meds, with non other than Harrington sitting by his bedside that it all slips out, "what are you doing here?"

Steve shrugs, won't look at him, "waiting to see if my Alpha dies, I guess."

And he just sounds so...bereft. so broken.

"Steve, I just...look-"

"Doesn't matter. You've made it clear. It's fine. And you're going to live I guess so I'll just-" and he's standing, turning to leave.

And Eddie knows Steve now. Sees him with the sheep. Knows he isn't a bitch. Knows he's just...a good guy. Knows he isn't any of the things Eddie thought he was.

"You grew up in a fucking castle." Steve pauses, sitting back in the chair to frown at Eddie.

"What has that go to do with-"

Eddie clears his throat, it's dry and scratchy and hurts but he has to do this. "You grew up in a castle. Nice car. Both parents. Preppy clothes, fucking, shitty fucking jock friends. Steve, you would have rejected me in a heartbeat. I live in a fucking trailer and sling drugs on the side I'm not- I couldn't do that to you."

And Steve just, he just starts crying. He nods, wipes his eyes, "I might have," he admits finally, "I don't know what I would have said...but I needed you. Since then I needed you so much and," he sniffles, wipes his pink nose .

"And I didn't know. I couldn't have and I am so sorry but could we just, now, can we just-" and it hurts like fuck but Eddie bites it down because Steve is half clambered into the bed next to him and yeah. Yeah, that's perfect.

[kaces-graham-crackers]

Trick or Treat, Kiss or Keep - Halloween Special

Astrid Deetz x Reader

Warning: The following themes appear in this story: Bullying, Slight Swearing, Lots of Emotional Stress, and themes leaning towards psychological horror (Please be wary if you read any further!)

Summary: You and Astrid Deetz were once close, but everything fell apart. Now on Halloween night, both are left vulnerable, forced to confront the past. Old feelings resurface, secrets are revealed, and you must navigate the emotional fallout. Be careful what you wish for—everything can change in an instant.

Word Count: 7.4k

Miss Shannon’s School for Girls was buzzing with excitement as Halloween approached. The grand halls were filled with the usual chatter. You were at the center of it all—popular, outgoing, and well-liked. People gravitated toward you, and it wasn’t something you thought too much about. It was just how things were.

But in the midst of all the noise, there was one person who barely seemed to exist in the social sphere. 

Astrid Deetz.

You glanced over at her as you walked down the hall, noticing her sitting quietly by herself at the far end of the courtyard, scrolling through her phone, her headphones on. She was always in her own world, a stark contrast to the person she used to be. Once upon a time, she was your best friend. You used to share everything—laughs, secrets, and the occasional mischievous prank. But that was before everything fell apart.

Before her father died.

You sighed and turned away, focusing on your friends as they talked about the big Halloween party that everyone was buzzing about. But no matter how much you tried to stay engaged, your mind kept drifting back to her—to the person Astrid used to be, and the person she had become.

She pulled away, you reminded yourself. I tried to be there, but she didn’t want me around.

At first, you hadn’t understood why she distanced herself. You had offered her comfort, a shoulder to lean on, but she walked away. And after a while, you gave up. What was the point of trying when it seemed like she didn’t want you in her life?

But what hurt more than the loss of friendship was the realization that your feelings for her had shifted. That the crush you had ignored for so long had always been there, lingering beneath the surface. You were so used to pushing it aside that when the distance grew, it felt like you had lost more than just a friend.

Now, as you climbed the stairs toward your next class, you saw Astrid again, walking toward you, head down, focused on her phone. She wasn’t paying attention, her mind clearly elsewhere, and before you could step aside—

Crash!

The two of you collided, sending her books and papers scattering across the floor. You stumbled back, barely catching yourself as you looked up, your heart racing.

“Sorry!” you blurted out, immediately crouching down to help her pick up the things she had dropped.

Astrid didn’t even look at you, her dark hair falling over her face as she mumbled something into her phone. She seemed annoyed, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

The girls nearby—your friends—began to laugh, thinking it was all some kind of joke. Julia Ripley, ever the instigator, smirked and leaned in closer. “Nice move, Y/N. Didn’t know you were so eager to knock her down.”

You shot Julia a look, feeling the embarrassment creep up your neck. “It wasn’t on purpose,” you muttered, picking up Astrid’s phone and handing it back to her. “Sorry, Astrid.”

Astrid finally looked up, her gaze hard and distant. She grabbed the phone from your hand, barely acknowledging your apology. “Watch where you’re going,” she said, her voice sharp.

Her words cut deeper than you expected. It wasn’t like you meant to bump into her, but the coldness in her tone stung, bringing back the old wounds you thought you had buried.

“I wasn’t the one on my phone,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Astrid’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, it looked like she might say something, but instead, she just shoved her things into her bag and stood up, her body tense. The girls around you snickered again, feeding off the tension.

You felt something inside you crack. It wasn’t fair—you had always been there for her. You had been the one to stand by her when her world fell apart, but she had pushed you away, and now she acted like you were nothing.

“You know,” you said, your voice louder than you intended, “I was always there for you. You’re the one who didn’t seem to want me around.”

Astrid’s face hardened, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something else—something you couldn’t quite place. “I don’t need you,” she spat, her voice dripping with bitterness. “I never did.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You could feel the hurt bubbling up inside you, but you refused to let it show. Not in front of her. Not in front of everyone else.

Your heart shattered, but you didn’t let it show as you muttered, “I was always there for you, Astrid. Always.”

She turned to leave, her head held high, but before she could take more than a few steps, you noticed something taped to her back.

Kick Me.

Your stomach dropped as you realized what had happened. The girls—the same ones laughing at you now—had probably put it there without Astrid noticing.

You pulled the sign off her back and crumpled it in your hand. “Well, I’ll keep that noted,” you said quietly, holding back the anger that was building inside you. You pulled out a small box from your bag—the one you had been holding onto for years, unsure if you’d ever give it to her. “I promise I won’t bother you again.”

Astrid stopped, turning slightly, her expression confused as she glanced at the box you were offering. You handed it off to her and for a moment, it looked like she might say something, but she stayed silent, watching as you walked away, leaving her standing there, the crumpled sign still in your hand.

Without you there to shield her from the worst of it, the bullying came back with full force, creeping into every corner of Astrid's life. It started slowly at first—a whisper in the hallway, a subtle snicker behind her back. The same girls who had once stuck close to her, laughing with her at lunch, had turned on her, mocking her with cruel smiles. They no longer treated her like one of them. Instead, she became their favorite target

"Bad friend." "Such a freak." "Dick."

The names came faster, louder, no longer just murmurs. They trailed behind her as she walked to class, a never-ending barrage of taunts and jeers. Each one stung, each word a reminder of how quickly she had fallen from whatever thin pedestal she had once stood on. The girls would throw fake smiles her way in passing, only to tear her down the second she was out of earshot. 

In gym class, they’d intentionally leave her out, pretending not to see her as they picked teams. At lunch, the spot they had once saved for her at their table was gone, replaced by smug looks and snide comments.

"Guess you're sitting alone again," Julia Ripley sneered one day, loud enough for everyone in the cafeteria to hear. The rest of the group erupted into laughter, their eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Astrid clenched her fists, her stomach turning as she moved to the far corner of the room, sitting at a table by herself. It wasn’t like she was ever one to seek attention, but the isolation stung in a way she hadn’t expected. It reminded her of everything she had lost. Of you.

You were the one who had kept the worst of this away from her. You had stood between her and their cruelty, even when she didn’t notice it. Even when she had been too blinded by her grief and her anger to see that you were protecting her all along.

The realization hit her hard one evening, as she walked through the hallways after class. She overheard one of the girls laughing with her friends. "God, remember when Y/N used to hang around with her? I swear that's the only reason people didn't mess with her back then."

Another voice chimed in, "Yeah, totally. Y/N was the only one keeping her from being a total loser."

Astrid’s heart sank. It wasn’t just their words—it was the truth behind them. You had been her shield, the one person who had protected her from the relentless bullying that was now pouring in from every direction. And she had pushed you away, thinking she didn’t need anyone. Thinking she didn’t need you.

But now? She was alone.

The girls who once stood by her side had turned into her tormentors, and the rest of the school followed suit, treating her like an outsider. The isolation weighed on her more than she ever thought it could. She found herself dreading every moment at Miss Shannon's, wondering when the next sneer, the next insult, would come. She had no one to turn to now—no one to sit with at lunch, no one to talk to during class. The people she once thought were her friends had abandoned her the moment it became convenient.

And you? You were the only one who had ever been real. The only one who had cared, even when she didn’t deserve it. Even when she had lashed out, pushing you away with cruel words. The memory of the argument echoed in her mind, the way you had looked at her with hurt in your eyes, the way she had said things she could never take back.

"I don’t need you. I never did."

The words tasted bitter now, and the weight of what she had done gnawed at her. How wrong she had been. She didneed you—she always had. But she had thrown that away, and now she was facing the consequences.

Every cruel word, every mocking glance, every laugh behind her back—it all felt like punishment. And she wasn’t sure how much more of it she could take.

One evening, as Astrid sat at her desk, the weight of the last few weeks pressing down on her, she noticed the small box you had given her earlier that week. She had shoved it aside after your argument, not even considering opening it at the time. But now, with everything swirling around her—guilt, regret, and the growing realization of her mistakes—her curiosity got the better of her.

With trembling hands, she reached for the box, her fingers brushing against the lid. A part of her didn’t want to open it, knowing that whatever was inside would only remind her of what she had lost. But another part of her—a part that missed you more than she cared to admit—couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Slowly, she lifted the lid.

Inside was something she hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just any piece of jewelry or a token of the past—it was a small animal tooth, crafted into a pendant. The sight of it hit her like a wave, memories flooding back instantly.

She remembered the day you had found it, the two of you exploring the woods near the school, laughing as you pretended to be on some grand adventure. You had stumbled upon the tooth—an old keepsake of the forest, worn and weathered—and immediately decided to keep it. She hadn’t thought much of it back then, but you had been adamant, saying it would bring you both good luck.

And now, etched into the bone, were the letters “Y/I/H x AD 4Ever.” A promise, a bond that had once seemed unbreakable.

Astrid’s fingers traced the engraving, her heart sinking as the weight of the memory settled over her. The late-night conversations, the shared laughter, the sense of belonging she had only ever felt with you—it all came rushing back, tinged with the bitter sting of regret.

Why did I push you away? she thought bitterly, gripping the bone tightly in her hand. Why did I let this all fall apart?

She clenched her jaw, trying to hold back the wave of emotions crashing through her. She had been so angry, so hurt after her father’s death, that she had pushed you away without a second thought. She had convinced herself that she didn’t need you—that she didn’t need anyone. But now, looking at this simple, meaningful piece from a time when things had been so much easier, so much better, she realized how wrong she had been.

You were always there, she thought. And I threw it all away.

Astrid’s grip tightened on the pendant as her guilt deepened. She didn’t deserve your friendship. Not after everything she had said, everything she had done. 

Later that night, as Astrid sat at her desk, her thoughts clouded with memories and guilt, she heard a faint rustling at her door. The soft sound barely registered over the hum of her own mind, but when she glanced down, she saw an envelope—plain, black, and unmarked—slipped under the doorframe.

Curious, she picked it up, turning it over in her hands. There was no name, no sign of who it was from. She opened it slowly, pulling out a glossy, printed invitation:

Halloween Party at Julia Ripley’s House This Saturday—Be there or be forgotten.

Astrid scoffed under her breath. Of course, it was from Julia. It was always her, throwing lavish parties and acting like she owned the school. The thought of going made her stomach turn. The idea of being surrounded by people who whispered about her behind her back, who made her feel like an outsider in every room she entered—people like Julia and her friends—it was the last thing she wanted.

She tossed the invitation aside, rolling her eyes at the pretentiousness of it all. What’s the point of showing up to something where you’re only going to be mocked?

Astrid hadn’t been to a party in ages, and she had no interest in the social scene anymore. Not after everything that had happened. The halls of Miss Shannon’s were already hard enough to navigate, and the idea of facing the crowd outside of school, where the insults weren’t whispered but spat directly in her face, was exhausting.

But then, a stray comment floated through her memory—something she had overheard in the hall earlier that day.

"Yeah, Y/N’s definitely going to Julia’s party," one of the girls had said, laughing about how they couldn’t wait to see what costume you would wear.

Astrid’s heart had lurched at the mention of your name, and now, it did again. You were going.

She bit her lip, glancing at the small black box still open on her desk. The pendant inside—the one with the animal tooth and your initials intertwined with hers—sat there, a reminder of what she had thrown away. The realization that you had never really given up on her, even when she had given up on herself, had shaken her to her core.

The guilt had been gnawing at her for days now, ever since you had walked away from her after your argument in the hallway. She hadn’t wanted to admit it then, but it hurt, knowing how badly she had hurt you. She had pushed you away in her darkest moments, convinced she didn’t need anyone, least of all you. But now, she couldn’t stop thinking about what she had lost.

You were always there for me, and I was the one who left you. The thought kept repeating itself in her mind, over and over again, a painful truth she could no longer ignore.

And now…you were going to be at that party. The chance to see you, to explain, to finally apologize for everything she had done, made her heart race. Maybe—just maybe—this could be her chance to make things right.

She stood up from her desk, pacing her small dorm room as she debated what to do. Part of her wanted to forget about it, to hide away in her room like she always did these days, to avoid the crowd and the stares and the inevitable whispers. But another part of her—a deeper, more desperate part—wanted to see you. She needed to see you.

What if this was her only chance? What if you never spoke to her again? What if the door she had slammed shut so long ago could finally be cracked open, even if just a little?

The thought of you, of the friendship—and maybe more—that she had ruined weighed heavily on her chest.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, her heart heavy with indecision. Could she really face you after everything?

The memory of your face, hurt and betrayed during your last confrontation, flashed in her mind. She had been so cruel, so blinded by her own grief and anger, that she hadn’t realized how much she was hurting you in return. But you had never stopped trying. You had never given up on her, even when she had been at her worst.

And that necklace—the pendant—it was proof. Proof that, even now, you still cared.

Astrid looked at the invitation again, staring at it for a long moment. She had no idea what she would say if she saw you, no idea if you’d even want to hear her out. But she couldn’t hide forever. She couldn’t keep running from the mistakes she had made.

Her fingers tightened around the invitation, determination creeping into her chest. She would go to that party. She would see you. She would find a way to apologize, to make things right, no matter how difficult it might be.

But what she didn’t know—what she couldn’t have known—was that the party wouldn’t be what she expected. Nothing could have prepared her for what was waiting for her when she walked through the doors of Julia’s house.

The night of the Halloween party arrived, and Astrid found herself standing at the bottom of the grand, sloping driveway of Julia’s house. She looked up at the looming structure, her heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and dread. The house, which always had an air of old-world elegance, had been transformed for the occasion. Black and orange streamers lined the walkway, fake cobwebs clung to the trees, and glowing jack-o’-lanterns grinned wickedly from every corner.

The house itself was a strange sight—a looming, gothic-style mansion with towering spires and a stone façade that seemed to absorb the moonlight. It looked like it had been plucked straight from a haunted movie set, with vines creeping up its walls and the shadow of bare, twisted branches looming overhead. The front porch had been decorated with fake tombstones and skeletal figures, and the grand windows glowed brightly from the lights inside, cutting through the eerie atmosphere.

Despite the elaborate decorations, it was the sheer size of the house that made it unsettling. It felt as though the windows watched her, almost as if the house itself had its own pulse—one that beat in time with the heavy, thumping bass of the music coming from inside.

Astrid hesitated, lingering at the edge of the driveway. She could hear laughter and chatter filtering out through the open windows, the muffled sound of party-goers enjoying themselves. Everyone was probably in some over-the-top costume, laughing and taking pictures, oblivious to the person standing outside, contemplating whether she should go in.

Her grip tightened around her phone, the weight of the invitation pulling at her again. You’ll be there, she reminded herself. Maybe this is my chance.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and made her way up the steps. The porch creaked beneath her feet as she approached the door. A skeleton animatronic on the porch swung its bony arm, a hollow, mechanical laugh escaping its jaws as it greeted her arrival. She forced herself to ignore the knot of unease forming in her stomach and pushed open the door.

Inside, the party was in full swing. The interior of the house was just as elaborately decorated as the outside—blood-red lighting washed over the grand foyer, casting long, eerie shadows against the walls. A giant chandelier hung overhead, draped in fake cobwebs, while ghostly figures dangled from the ceiling. The air smelled like a mix of too-sweet candy and perfume, and the sound of people talking and laughing filled the space, almost drowning out the pulsing music that seemed to shake the floor beneath her feet.

She stood just inside the doorway, scanning the room for a familiar face. But she didn’t see you. Instead, all she saw were people dressed in elaborate costumes—vampires, witches, zombies—mingling in groups, none of them even noticing she had arrived. A part of her wanted to turn around and leave, but she stayed, rooted in place, determined to find you.

Astrid kept to the shadows, moving along the walls to avoid drawing attention to herself. She wasn’t here to socialize or make small talk—she was here for one reason, and that was to find you and apologize. The weight of everything she had done, everything she had said, hung heavy on her chest. She didn’t know if you would forgive her, but she needed to try.

Suddenly, the music cut off.

Astrid froze, her heart skipping a beat as the house plunged into silence. The chatter of the guests grew quieter, murmurs of confusion rippling through the crowd. For a moment, all that could be heard was the soft rustle of costumes and the shuffling of feet. Then, the lights went out, plunging the entire room into complete darkness.

Gasps echoed around her, followed by the sound of people shifting uncomfortably. There was an eerie stillness in the air, as if the entire house was holding its breath. Astrid felt her pulse quicken, her hand instinctively reaching into her pocket for her phone.

Suddenly, the sound of a recorded voice crackled through the speakers, filling the dark space. It wasn’t the music that had been playing before. Instead, it was the sound of people gasping and whispering, their voices faint but filled with an edge of fear. It was as if the very walls of the house had come alive, replaying the reactions of the party guests as they stood in the dark.

Astrid’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t like this—not one bit.

She stood in the corner, frozen, unsure of what to do as the whispers and gasps continued to play on repeat. For a moment, she wondered if it was just part of the Halloween decor—some kind of haunted house effect Julia had set up to scare the guests. But something about it felt off.

She pulled out her phone, turning on the flashlight to cut through the darkness. The bright beam of light flickered as it swept across the room, illuminating the faces of mannequins—twisted, grotesque mannequins—that had been scattered throughout the house. They stood motionless, positioned in strange, unnatural poses, their faces twisted into eerie, silent screams. Some had limbs missing, others had blood-red paint dripping down their plastic faces. Each one had a sign hung around its neck, scrawled in dripping red letters.

Bad Friend. Liar. Asshole.

The words stared back at her, harsh and biting, like cruel accusations carved into the very mannequins themselves. Astrid’s stomach twisted with unease. The mannequins hadn’t been there before, had they? She would have noticed. Right?

As she swept her phone’s light across the room, her breath quickened. More mannequins lined the walls, their distorted figures positioned in grotesque mockery of real people. It was as if they were watching her, judging her. And the worst part? Every single mannequin bore a name—her name.

Astrid Deetz.

It was written on every sign, alongside the cruel words: Bad Friend. Asshole. Dick.

Astrid felt a lump form in her throat, her heart racing as panic began to settle in. This wasn’t just part of the Halloween decor. This was something more. Something meant to get under her skin, to humiliate her in front of everyone.

Her hands trembled as she turned in place, the light from her phone casting long shadows on the floor. She could hear the recorded voices growing louder now—mocking whispers, cruel laughter, as if the house itself was laughing at her. The walls seemed to close in around her, the once festive atmosphere now twisted into something sinister.

Astrid’s breath came in ragged gasps as the reality of the situation sank in. This was a prank. A cruel, calculated prank, meant to make her feel like she was nothing. And it was working.

She stumbled backward, her legs shaky as she tried to move away from the mannequins, her light flickering as it caught more of the red-painted words.

BAD FRIEND. ASSHOLE. YOU DESERVE THIS.

The whispers in the recording grew louder, harsher, until they were ringing in her ears, drowning out her thoughts. She pressed her hands to her ears, trying to block out the noise, but it only seemed to get louder.

And then—right in front of her, projected on the wall—was the worst thing of all.

A photo of you, standing with Julia Ripley, her arms draped over you, leaning in as if to kiss you. You were blurred, but the image was clear enough. It was meant to look like you and Julia were together—meant to hurt her, to break her down even more.

Astrid’s knees buckled as she collapsed to the floor, her heart shattering at the sight. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath, tears stinging her eyes. She wanted to scream, to tear down the image, to run. But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.

She could only sit there, frozen in place, as the world around her fell apart.

The party had dragged on, and you were on the verge of giving up. Astrid hadn’t shown, and as the hours passed, the hope you’d been clinging to slowly dissolved. You were about to grab a drink, resigned to the idea that maybe tonight wasn’t the night to fix things, when something strange caught your eye.

A crowd had gathered around the large TV in the corner of the room. It wasn’t the usual video games or party antics playing on the screen—it was something different. Something wrong. The air in the room felt heavier, the laughter quieting into hushed whispers, and you pushed your way through the crowd, anxiety creeping up your spine as you tried to get a better view.

And then, you saw it.

On the screen was a live feed of Astrid, kneeling in the middle of some dark, abandoned room. Her body was shaking, her hands covering her face as she sobbed uncontrollably. In front of her, projected on the wall, was a cruel, photoshopped image—you with Julia Ripley, standing too close, her lips almost touching yours. The sight of it hit you like a punch to the chest, the knot of horror tightening in your stomach. This wasn’t some innocent prank. This was deliberate. This was cruel.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and the reality of what was happening crashed down on you all at once. They had set her up. This wasn’t a party invitation—this was a trap, designed to humiliate Astrid, to break her down in front of everyone. Julia Ripley was behind this.

You whirled around, scanning the room, your blood boiling as you spotted Julia, sitting comfortably in a lavish chair she had dragged out—her "prom queen" chair, a symbol of her self-obsessed reign over the social scene. She was sitting at the front, watching Astrid’s breakdown on the screen with a smug expression plastered on her face, completely unaware of the rage building inside you.

Without thinking, you stormed toward her, anger boiling over with every step. Julia saw you coming, and before you could even speak, she reached out, her arm moving to wrap itself around you in a flirtatious, almost possessive way. She looked at you with a sly grin, as if she expected you to join her in her twisted satisfaction.

But you were beyond furious.

“You went too far,” you said, your voice low and sharp, your hands clenched into fists as you shoved her hand off you, disgusted. “When you said you invited her, you meant to a prank party, didn’t you?”

Julia’s smirk faltered. Her hand recoiled, but she tried to play it off, huffing in annoyance as she leaned back in her chair. “She deserved it,” she snapped, her voice dripping with condescension. “After the way she treated you, how can you still defend her? You deserve better.”

You couldn’t believe the audacity, and the rage inside you boiled over.

You clenched your fists tighter, every muscle in your body trembling with anger. “Deserve better?” you echoed, your voice shaking with barely controlled fury. “I could never be your girlfriend—I’m in love with Astrid! I always have been, and I always will be.”

Julia’s eyes widened in shock, and a hush fell over the room. The words left your mouth before you could stop them, but you didn’t care. You had held it in for too long, and now it was out, ringing in the air for everyone to hear.

“I’ve always been in love with Astrid Deetz,” you repeated, your voice firm, filled with emotion. “Because unlike everyone else in this room, she’s real. She’s the realest fucking person I’ve ever met. Yeah, she can be a dick sometimes, but she’s mourning. She’s going through life with a mother who is too busy to acknowledge her and a father who was the only person who ever truly understood her, now gone forever.”

The room was dead silent now. You could feel every pair of eyes on you, but all you could think about was Astrid—how broken she had looked, sobbing on her knees in that abandoned house.

“At least Astrid’s dad loved her for who she was, not for what she could do for him,” you continued, your voice growing louder, more passionate with every word. “He didn’t need her to win some meaningless trophies to impress other middle-aged women going through their midlife crises.”

Julia’s smug expression melted away as your words hit her like a sledgehammer, her face paling as tears welled up in her eyes. The entire crowd stood frozen, the weight of your words settling over them like a heavy cloud.

Everyone was silent. The only sound that remained was the faint, echoing sobs from the live feed of Astrid on the TV.

You turned back to the screen, the tears now welling up in your own eyes as you heard the sound of Astrid’s broken confessions playing over the speakers. Her voice, fragile and filled with regret, crackled through the room, cutting through the silence like a blade.

“Where is she?” you demanded, your voice shaking. You turned back to Julia, who had nothing left to say. She stared at you, tears streaming down her face, but you had no sympathy for her. You didn’t care about her tears.

All that mattered was Astrid.

Julia stammered, trying to pull herself together, but she was too flustered to form words. You couldn’t wait any longer. You needed to find Astrid, and you needed to find her now.

Without another word, you rushed toward the door, your heart racing as you prepared yourself for what came next. Astrid was out there, alone, broken, and you weren’t going to let her suffer any longer. You had to save her.

As you sprinted through the streets, your heart racing, you couldn’t stop thinking about Astrid—how broken she looked, how badly you needed to find her. You heard snippets of her confession playing on the live feed, her voice choked with emotion as she admitted her guilt and sorrow.

“I was a terrible friend,” she sobbed. “I didn’t deserve her… She was always there, but I pushed her away. I didn’t know how to handle it… And now, it’s too late. I’m so sorry.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you heard her words. You had to get to her. Now.

Miraculously, You had found the abandoned building. This was the second option for the Halloween party if Julia’s dad wasn’t leaving for a yacht trip. You vaguely remember the room Astrid was in and raced through the abandoned house, your heart pounding. The air was thick with the smell of decay, and the dimly lit hallways were littered with mannequin limbs and scattered decorations. The floor creaked beneath your feet as you pushed open a cracked door, your chest tightening with fear.

“I don’t deserve her… I pushed her away because I didn’t know how to deal with it…,” Astrid’s voice, thick with emotion, echoed through the room as you sprinted through the dark hallways of the abandoned house. Her confession played on the live feed, each word pulling at your heart. Tears pricked your eyes as you heard the depth of her regret, and with every step, the urgency to find her grew.

You finally pushed through the door, in the center of the room, under the faint flickering red lighting of the chandelier, Astrid was kneeling. Her face was buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed uncontrollably in front of the photoshopped image of you and Julia. You could feel the anger bubbling inside you, wanting to scream at Julia for orchestrating this awful setup, for making Astrid feel so broken. But as soon as you saw Astrid, all that mattered was getting to her.

You knelt beside her, gently placing a trembling hand on her shoulder. Astrid flinched at the touch, her body tensing, but when she looked up and saw it was you, her devastated expression deepened.

“Why are you here?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You shouldn’t have come… You don’t need to see me like this.”

Your throat tightened as you fought to keep your voice steady. “I’m here because I care, Astrid. I’ve always cared.”

She shook her head, her eyes filled with regret and self-loathing. “I don’t deserve your care. I don’t deserve you.” She let out a broken laugh, her voice raw with guilt. “I’ve been horrible to you. I said… I said I didn’t need you, but I didn’t mean it. I was just so angry at everything—at the world, at myself.”

Her words cut deep, but you could see the pain behind them. The guilt had been gnawing at her, consuming her from the inside, and now, as you knelt beside her, you realized just how much she had been carrying alone.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “ I know you didn’t mean those things. You were grieving, and I should have understood that. But I never stopped caring, Astrid. I never gave up on you.”

Astrid looked at you, wide-eyed and tearful, her breath catching in her throat. “But I was so awful to you…” she choked out, her hands shaking.

“You were hurting,” you said, gently wiping the tears from her cheek. “And I know that now. But I’m here, Astrid. I’m still here.”

Her sobs began to quiet against your shoulder, her body trembling as the weight of everything she’d carried finally seemed to lift, if only slightly. For so long, she had been drowning in her pain, and you could feel the relief in the way she clung to you, her fingers gripping your shirt like you were her lifeline, afraid to let go in case she sank back into the darkness.

You stayed like that for what felt like forever, letting her sobs subside into quiet, steady breaths. Your hand moved gently through her hair, offering her the comfort she had denied herself for so long.

“I’ve been so stupid,” she whispered eventually, her voice hoarse and heavy with regret. “I pushed you away because I didn’t know how to handle anything anymore. I was angry. I was scared… and instead of asking for help, I turned into someone I hate.”

Your heart ached at her words, hearing how much she had struggled, all the while shutting you out. But now, here she was, vulnerable, her walls crumbling around her as she finally let you in.

“You were hurting, Astrid,” you said softly, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. “I didn’t understand it then, but I do now. And I forgive you. We can fix this.”

Her eyes searched yours, wide and tear-filled, as if trying to grasp the truth of your words. “But how can you forgive me after everything? I treated you like you didn’t matter. I threw away our friendship, pushed you out of my life… How do we come back from that?”

You smiled gently, brushing away another tear that escaped down her cheek. “We come back from it by starting right here, right now. You’re not alone anymore. I’m not going anywhere.”

Astrid’s lip quivered, and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against yours, her breath shaky as she let out a soft sigh. “I don’t deserve you,” she murmured, her voice breaking with emotion. “But I’m so grateful you’re here.”

You smiled, tightening your embrace around her. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be, Astrid. With you.”

She closed her eyes, resting her head against your shoulder again, her grip on your shirt loosening as she let herself relax for the first time in what felt like forever. The tension between you faded, replaced by the quiet comfort of being together—finally, after so much time and distance.

As the sound of her steady breaths filled the room, you realized that it wasn’t just the apology or the confession that mattered. It was the fact that you were still here, together, ready to rebuild what had been broken.

“We’ll figure it out,” you whispered, your voice gentle but firm. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Astrid nodded against your shoulder, her body calming as the weight of her guilt began to lift. “I don’t know what I did to deserve a second chance with you,” she said, her voice raw but grateful. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”

You pulled her even closer, holding her tight as your heart swelled with love and relief. “You don’t have to do it alone,” you whispered softly. “We’ll do it together.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Astrid let herself believe that maybe—just maybe—things could be okay again.

After a long, tear-filled confession, you and Astrid left the abandoned house. The chilly night air hit your skin, the weight of the tension left behind in that eerie place still hanging in the air. The house itself, with its broken windows and crumbling walls, seemed to watch you both as you walked away. Its dim, flickering lights and twisted mannequins were now just a distant memory, but their haunting presence clung to you. The cracked door creaked one last time before closing behind you.

The air felt heavier, but for the first time in a long while, there was also something new between you—hope.

You guided Astrid back to your place, her hand tucked into yours. She was silent most of the way, her fingers tightening around yours every so often, as if she was afraid you might disappear. The long walk through the dark, empty streets felt almost comforting after the night’s emotional chaos, the streetlights flickering softly, casting long shadows on the ground as you both walked side by side.

When you finally arrived at your house, the warmth of the familiar environment enveloped you. Your parents were already asleep, the quiet hum of the house wrapping around you like a protective blanket. You led Astrid to your room, offering her a soft smile as you turned on the small lamp by your bed.

“Come on, let’s get you settled,” you said gently, watching as Astrid glanced around the room with an almost shy expression. She looked so different now—vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen before. But there was also a kind of peace in her eyes, like she was finally letting herself breathe again.

You both climbed into your bed, wrapping yourselves in the warm blankets, and for the first time in what felt like forever, things felt... okay. You lay next to each other, sharing quiet conversation as the weight of the night slowly faded away.

At one point, you admitted, “I heard most of your confession, you know.”

Astrid stiffened beside you, her eyes widening as she turned to face you, clearly embarrassed. “You did?”

You nodded, your gaze soft. “I did. And I’m glad I heard it, Astrid. I needed to know how much you’ve been hurting.”

Astrid’s face twisted in regret, but before she could speak, you gently wrapped an arm around her. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “You don’t have to say anything else. I’m just glad you’re here.”

She held onto you tightly after that, her body relaxing against yours as the tension melted away. But then, as you shifted slightly to make room, Astrid’s hand gripped your shirt, stopping you from moving any further. You blinked, confused for a moment, until she pulled you back toward her.

And before you could even react, she crashed her lips against yours.

The kiss was soft at first—gentle, almost hesitant as if she was testing the waters. But soon, it deepened, growing more heated and passionate. Her hands tangled in your shirt, pulling you closer as her lips moved against yours, and you responded in kind, matching her intensity.

The kiss turned sloppy, her fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt, tugging you closer. The heat between you both was palpable, the passion years in the making, but just as things started to intensify, there was a sudden creak at the door.

Your mother.

The door opened slightly, and Astrid, in a panic, shoved you so hard you fell right off the bed with a soft thud.

“Oh my goodness!” your mom squealed from the doorway, her eyes bright with surprise. “Astrid, honey, is that you?” She didn’t seem to notice you, sprawled out on the floor, as she focused entirely on Astrid. “Are you staying over tonight? I’m so glad to see you back!”

Astrid, flustered and embarrassed, stammered, “Uh, no—no, ma’am. I’m not staying.”

Your mom beamed, already half out the door. “Well, you must stay for dinner. You’re looking a bit thin! I’ll go tell your father to break out the good china tonight! It’s so good to see you again, sweetie!” With that, she closed the door, leaving the two of you in stunned silence.

Astrid peered over the edge of the bed, looking down at you with wide eyes. “Are you okay?”

You, still dazed from the sudden shove and your mother’s enthusiastic surprise, could only mutter, “You kissed me…”

Astrid burst out laughing, rolling onto her back as she covered her face with her hands. Her laughter was light and mischievous, her embarrassment melting away into something playful. “Duh,” she said between laughs. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

You stared up at her, feeling a mix of disbelief and affection swirl in your chest.

“Now,” Astrid said, her laughter still bubbling in her voice, “come on back up here so I can ruin your dinner with some more sweets.”

Grinning, you scrambled back into bed, leaning in to kiss her again, the warmth of her lips meeting yours once more. This time, the kiss was slow, sweet, and filled with everything you hadn’t been able to say before. It was perfect.

The next day at school, the change was obvious. People stared as you and Astrid walked through the halls hand-in-hand. The whispers didn’t bother you. They couldn’t. Not when Astrid was right there beside you, holding your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You walked her to class, stealing a quick kiss before she disappeared inside. She blushed slightly but smiled at you as she waved you off.

As Astrid made her way through the day, she started to notice something—the bullying had stopped. There were no cruel whispers, no mocking looks. Instead, people seemed wary, like they knew something had shifted but couldn’t quite place it.

Later, after classes, Astrid found you waiting for her by the lockers. She was curious, the confusion evident on her face as she asked, “What happened today? Did you… do something?”

You shrugged casually, pulling out your phone and showing her a video. It was of you, roasting Julia Ripley in front of everyone at the Halloween party the night before. You had confronted her, tearing into her with the same fiery passion that had always defined you.

Astrid’s mouth dropped open, completely gobsmacked as she watched the video. “You did this?”

You smiled, shrugging nonchalantly. “I just kept it real. Like you would.”

Astrid’s shocked expression slowly morphed into a smirk. She leaned in and kissed you on the cheek, whispering, "Guess I’m rubbing off on you...knew I would eventually." leaving you blushing as she walked ahead, as you followed suit.

[forzalando]

what makes the sunset?

3k celebration blurb for @katsu28! you can find my celebration post here if you'd like to celebrate with me :) title inspired by the song what makes the sunset? - frank sinatra. if you’d like, give it a listen! that’s the vibe of lando x reader in this💛 word count: 845 summary: sappy sunset with lando. obvious they both love each other but no established relationship (i love idiots in love).

The time was nearing 8:00pm – you’d already cooked and cleaned up dinner, thrown a load of laundry in the washer, changed into comfy PJs, and vacuumed your entire living space.

The tick of your tv remote was beginning to drive you mad. Each time you scrolled to the next tv show or movie in your recommended, the sound grew louder and louder. After ten minutes of searching, you reached for your phone and went to the last text thread in your messages.

what should I watch? I literally can’t find anything that looks interesting and it’s driving me insane

The reply bubbles appeared on your screen almost immediately, but your (hopefully) saving grace decided to call instead of respond via text.

“What are you in the mood for?” Lando asked, his mouth clearly full of his dinner.

“Did you call me so that you wouldn’t have to take a break from eating to text me back?”

“Maybe, but I’m the one asking the questions here. What are you in the mood for?”

“Hmm,” you paused, “something beautiful, passionate, emotionally stirring. I want to feel something.”

“And you came to me for suggestions?” Lando’s laugh rang through the speaker, the sound filling you with warmth.

“Well, excuse me, Mr. ‘I’m a Scorpio and let me tell you all about it’! Aren’t you supposed to be passionate and emotional?”

“Alright, give me a minute to think!”

The silence was brief, not even 30 seconds had passed before Lando began speaking again.

“Be ready in 15 minutes, I’ve got the perfect idea.”

Before you had a chance to ask what he meant, the line went dead. You huffed out a breath and made your way to your room to change out of your pajamas – which, quite honestly, soured your mood a bit.

Exactly 15 minutes after your call ended, Lando Norris was furiously knocking at your door.

“Come on, come on, hurry up!!!” You could hear him yelling from outside your apartment – thank goodness it was early enough that your neighbors wouldn’t complain about a nighttime disturbance.

Swinging your door open, you came face to face with Lando, his arm raised to knock incessantly once again.

“You are insufferable,” you huffed. Those were the only words you could get out before Lando was practically dragging you towards the elevators.

“Where are we even going?”

“It’s a surprise,” he sang. You couldn’t help but laugh at his giddiness, following him blindly down to his car sitting outside your building, still running and somehow not stolen.

You tried to guess – ice cream, a friend’s place, a movie theater. With each guess, Lando shook his head and teased that he wasn’t going to tell you. Soon, Lando had parked his car in a familiar lot, one you’d driven to many times before when the weather was nice and he was miraculously home.  

The sand was white and inviting – it squished underneath your toes as you stepped onto the beach, soft and still slightly warm from the sun beating down on it all day. You began to sit down when you heard Lando shouting behind you.

“NO sandy bottoms in my car, I brought a beach blanket you heathen!”

Sure enough, you turned around and there he was with the beach blanket you’d bought for him last summer. It had papayas on it, you simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

“So what are we doing here, Lan?”

He gestured towards the view in front of you. “You said you wanted to watch something beautiful and emotionally stirring.”

You looked at him quizzically, his hint completely lost on you. He rolled his eyes teasingly, scooting closer to you and bringing his arm up to look at his watch.

“The sun should start setting in about…five minutes? If I timed this correctly.”

“You brought me to the beach to watch the sunset?” A soft smile graced your lips, and it was your turn to scoot closer to Lando, only a few centimeters separating your legs.

“It just kind of popped into my head, but I should have asked you. I didn’t totally think this through, I’m sorry – ”

“Lando,” you interrupted him. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

He smiled at you and breathed a sigh of relief as he looked out towards the water, his shoulders visibly relaxing. It was silent for a few moments until he tensed again, turning to face you with wide eyes.

“Are you cold? The temperature is going to drop like twenty degrees, I have an extra hoodie in my car, let me go grab it.”

As he started to get up, you gently grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, finally closing the tiny gap of space between you.

“I’m fine, Lando,” you insisted, leaning your head on his shoulder and linking your arms. “You’re everything I need.”

He relaxed again and lowered his head slowly to meet yours, intertwining your fingers at the same time. As the two of you sat in silence, unspoken words and feelings swirled around in your minds.

Emotionally stirring was an understatement.

[crumplstiltskin]

unckuna au hcs migrated from x

main post: i cant draw rn but like this for a random unckuna au hc (from my verse so dont come @ me if it doesnt fit with yours)

unedited btw so don't come for me!!! some things are subject to change bc i said so

1. sukuna daps up  young choso as a greeting bc he thinks its funny with the size difference + how choso goes along with anything

2. sukuna has the passcode and key to jin and kaori's house so they find him randomly in the house sometimes. he likes to nap on the couch bc its nice and deep

3. sukuna met kaori first but they were all involved with bad company when they were students. kaori and jin immediately started to clean up their act after they started to date

4. yuuji used to cry looking at sukuna but at one point after seeing the twins side by side he just started laughing and never stopped???? rorschach test on sukuna's face ✅

5. sukuna and jin kick their feet behind them when they do tummy time with yuuji

6. yuuji named sukuna's cat cheese burger. they call her chizu

7. choso is kaori's first child and jin's step son. he rarely calls jin "dad" (usually something similar to "mr. jin" "uncle" "sir" etc) but when he does he's shy about it and jin also tends to get teary eyed ☹️

8. sukuna lives in tokyo. kaori has long stretches where she lives in tokyo for work. jin travels back and forth between sendai and tokyo. yuuji lived with wasuke until high school+his passing, then he moved in with his parents in tokyo.

9. choso is wherever yuuji is. but when he moved to sendai the first time they cut his hair short and he sulked for a week. he had to keep it trimmed short until he graduated middle school. he went to a local vocational school instead of high school

10. when choso and yuuji go to tokyo during holidays everyone stays at sukuna’s place bc it’s bigger. otherwise kaori stays at company housing (if jin is visiting kaori he also stays with sukuna)

11. kaori is older than the twins by two years 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ ‍‍‍kenjaku (kaori’s brother) is older than the twins by three years (kk irish twins!!) jin is the older twin.

12. kaori had choso at 20, only started dating jin a couple years after that bc he was too busy pining and she was dating someone else, married jin at 26 and had yuuji the same year. choso and yuuji are 6 years apart

13. sukuna likes to offer to stand in for parent discussions about yuuji’s life. kaori never takes him seriously even if he is only half joking (he says that yuuji is also HIS bc jin and sukuna are identical twins. genetically it’s true but this does not impress her at all….)

14. megumi and yuuji met during one of the holidays he was in tokyo for. they occasionally met the following summers and sometimes ask their parents to call each other until finally they became classmates in hs (when yuuji moved out to tokyo)

15. the twins and toji knew about each other by reputation (same circles but they’ve never met and they dont wanna talk about it either 😭😭😭esp not around his innocent wife)

16. tsumiki is megumi’s neighbour+childhood friend and they basically grew up together. she sometimes stays with megumi’s family bc megumi’s mom is friends with hers and she works a lot of nights.

17. sukuna pretends to be annoyed by choso but one time after he said he doesnt love young choso he went to cry in his bed and it hurt sukuna’s feelings lol

17.1. (he remedies this later by talking to him and saying he really likes him though and he’s his best friend—all while frowning and shaking his head at kaori who was watching)

18. sukuna and uraume have been besties since elementary school. uraume used to have a crush on jin (but they never liked sukuna that way for reasons related to his personality ☠️)

19. sukuna fixes cars and motorcycles in his free time. he only has space for a single bike in his garage, but he often visits one of kenjaku’s properties to work on other ones that kenjaku has.

20. kenjaku is in prison‼️‼️‼️

21. yuuji and toji’s rs is exactly like that one radio episode where they talked about yuuji being a (lovable) nuisance to his life…megumi’s mom and tsumiki both treat him like family

See: [podcast] Will Toji & Itadori get along well?

22. when jin and kaori ask yuuji about nobara they always refer to her as his gf (not true, they aren’t dating, never will). nobara always complains about it when she comes over and begs on hands and knees for them to stop (they dont bc they think its funny)

23. as an infant yuuji liked to sleep on sukuna’s chest bc of the cushion :robloxmanface: jin got jealous and started working out just bc of that

24. nobara and kaori are so close sometimes they go on little shopping dates and send the pictures to yuuji and jin🤷‍♂️ people on her insta keep asking her if “her mom” is single and yuuji fights for his life in the replies

25. sukuna also gets a lot of attention on yuuji and nobara’s socials but they leave him to the dogs. if it gets crazy they just start blocking everyone after sending them the link to sukuna’s account

26. megumi’s insta is just candids of his friends and dogs mixed into photography. no captions except on bday posts

27. if yuuji asks his parents for something and they say no, he will sometimes ask sukuna if he is desperate (who will always say yes if its amusing enough bc hes an enabler)

28. yuuji makes sukuna do a duet with him every time they bring out the karaoke machine at big family parties (sukuna just stands there breathing into the mic)

29. jin is a stay-at-home husband 👍 kaori’s the one making bank and insisting jin wear his cute lil apron when she comes back home

30. as an infant yuuji only ate whatever jin/wasuke/sukuna made. they didnt feed him any processed food unless it was baby puffs or something like that

31. heights for fun (sorry uraume they gave you a lil boy body….or am i…🤨)

32. the only person sukuna is scared of is jin and maybe wasuke one time when he got mad (he's usually pretty mild-mannered, just frowns a lot)

33. sukuna has never had a steady gf in his life🤷‍♂️ when they start getting too comfortable with him and telling him what to do he cuts them off

34. he always introduces girls he's interested in (beyond hooking up) to uraume. if uraume thinks the vibes are off even a little bit he drops them. jin and wasuke have only seen a few in passing

35. tw????? sukuna uses "gay" the millennial way. as in "wack"

36. yuuji has  tried to wash/rub off/erase sukuna's tattoos on several occasions

37. jin and sukuna greet each other by wrestling and doing silent takedowns. when yuuji gets big enough he also does the same thing with sukuna (sukuna never lets him win until he actually starts taking martial arts classes and he has to take him seriously😭 sore loser)

38. besides his own food sukuna only eats homemade food his family (wasuke, jin, yuuji + uraume) make. he’ll eat kaori’s food if jin makes him but he pretends to have a hard time swallowing it

39. sukuna is always in bed by 11pm!!! he sleeps in the dark with blackout curtains and a pillow on his head. doesn’t move an inch. hotel sheets with high thread count. bedroom never above 20 degrees celsius

40. sukuna used to steal food off yuuji’s plate to mess with him but after he noticed that yuuji would push his plate closer to him on purpose (to feed his poor uncle) he stopped 😔

41. child yuuji has called sukuna to finish a tub of ice cream (to get rid of evidence) that he shouldn’t have been eating but bc sukuna was all the way in tokyo and yuuji in sendai he couldn’t save him from getting scolded by wasuke 💔

42. sukuna has billed a girl for staining his shirt with makeup

43. sukuna and uraume sometimes pretend to be father and child to get family discount 👍

44. twins and uraume are only one year apart. they are just built different…sukuna built like an industrial fridge, uraume like an immortal elf on the shelf.

45. sukuna and yuuji decorated yuuji’s first helmet together (for skateboarding). the theme was dinosaur but it ended up looking like a rooster

46. the glovebox in his car still has stickers yuuji stuck on when he was small

47. once jin caught sukuna going🥰😚😝 with baby yuuji and when sukuna realized he was being watched he pretended to be asleep……..

48. sukuna has an album on his phone just for yuuji. half of it is burst pics of baby yuuji in action (dont ask why he didnt just take a video)

49. jin matches his outfits to yuuji’s

50. when they lived separately sukuna would sometimes get blurry pictures from jin’s phone of things yuuji would photograph (baby foot, jin’s scalp, wasuke in the garden, etc) and sukuna would text back very seriously (eg “tell your dad i can pay for his trip to turkey”)

51. whenever he babysits outside of the house and comes to pick up yuuji sukuna asks where “his accessory” is in reference to the baby and kaori hates it😭😭😭

52. if he HAS to, sukuna only uses metal tin containers for food. you can distinguish who made yuuji’s lunch that way (metal tin + looks gourmet = sukuna, food with faces +cute dividers = jin)

53. uraume and sukuna always invite yuuji to test new menus so he’s kind of acquainted with sukume’s industry friends. they think he has a gift in it too.

54. megumi and choso are so awkward together they usually sit in silence if left alone in a room….yuuji and sukuna think it’s so funny for some reason

55. jin is the last person to realize yuuji and megumi are dating when they eventuslly do. sukuna is the one to tell him but kaori (clocked it, asked nobara) and sukuna (mental math) realize first.

56. sukuna’s cat is a ginger maine coon😊

57. sukuna built a catio behind his shophouse for his cat

58. sukuna wears saxx underwear

59. sukuna and gojo go on food and bar crawls together (they play stupid games to see who should pay. gojo always pays)

60. choso is a nurse🫶

61. yuuji gets ""free"" scans at the hospital whenever he thinks he broke something (9 times out of 10 he's fine)

62. when yuuji calls for “dad” sukuna will always look, sometimes he’ll catch himself almost responding (jin always catches him too)

63. choso doesnt actually have the face tattoo in this au. i just draw it  bc i thats what i’m used to 🙃 sukuna has all his tattoos though

64. sukuna thinks blended chicken protein shake is an abomination. he believes in chewing your meat (his fav protein shake is vanilla flavor)

65. jin always greets yuuji at the door when he comes home (before anyone asks he likes to act busy when kaori does so she can backhug him hahahahhaha)

66. difference between bffs

🐯🐺= they also kiss…

🐯🔨= act like siblings

⛩️❄️= evil girl telepathy, will snicker about you together without saying anything

67. sukuna is the type to get a new phone just bc his gallery is full also “doesnt it look cool though” (jin gives him the dad look)

68. yuuji was the deciding factor (excuse) for sukuna not to have his own child bc when he realized during a discussion b/w jin and sukuna that his uncle wouldn’t have time for him he got sad and cried lol

69. when sukuna takes choso and yuuji out together he makes them hold hands and walk infront of him so they dont get kidnapped 😭

70. sukuna has gotten emo over yuuji outgrowing his baby clothes. jin straight up bawled

71. if they don’t meet for a while (12+ hours) and sukuna lifts his hand yuuji will get under his arm for a hug. choso will get a shoulder squeeze or a sidehug and jin will get his ribs crushed. he nods his chin at kaori (very rude)

72. bc they grew up together and choso has been fussing over yuuji ever since he was born, yuuji is the only person choso is comfortable hugging and making extended physical contact with. he doesn’t mind his mother touching him but anyone else?? very flustered

73. sukuna treats nobara like family and he’ll call her his neice if a random person asks. has let her apply makeup over his tattoos for fun, will drive her places if kaori isn’t around. they also talk about luxury brands together….

74. when yuuji was sick as a baby jin would cuddle him the entire time so he can feel warm. if sukuna is around he’d also take shifts with jin. they wouldnt let wasuke bc he might get sick (sukuna: he might pass away from a cough)

75. sukuna got jin a baby wrap for the above reason….otherwise yuuji would cry his head off if he was put down for even a second

76. (when sick) yuuji cried less the older he got but he would still hold his caretaker’s hand and follow them around the house if they were making food, etc…

77. yuuji doesn’t cry a lot or make a fuss in general though 🤷‍♂️he’s the kind of kid to wave at strangers and say hello

78. the rare times yuuji gets combative is bc sukuna is provoking him 😭 that stands true throughout his life. bc if he has questions they all answer him and he takes it as true (sukuna will lie and then yuuji looks foolish which will lead to arguments)

79. callback to the tweet below but yuuji has asked sukuna on several occasions if he has a job to do when his uncle gets on his nerves

i realize sukuna acts jobless in the unckuna au but its only bc he gets to make his own hours most of the time if he’s not booked for an event/job 😭

80. after yuuji and nobara start posting sukuna online his insta and business profiles go viral. the requests get concerning sometimes but every time there’s a big private/foreign one yuuji asks if he can go (answer is always no)

81. sukuna, jin, and yuuji (after childhood) come down with a cold maybe two times a year. choso and kaori get sick more often. and choso plays it up bc hes dramatic

82. megumi has been scouted by modeling agents a few times. of all the times it happened while out with nobara she chased them away out of spite (not that megumi was interested in the first place)

[lazycats-stuff]

Male reader who’s Ra’s immortal enemies- to lovers- to friends - to annoyances - to married - to divorced - to friends - to I’ve known you for so long that I could stab you and I’d peck you on the cheek and you’d stab me with the same knife and kiss me till I pass out.

Kinda like Gomez and Morticia but Male reader is called grandma as a joke but after 3 centuries it kinda just stuck so he checks up on the league every 2 decades only to find Ra’s in a fight with the bats and just kinda gets a chair and watches before Dusan or Talia comes and says “MOTHER-!?” “Oh hey I brought snacks”

Oh my God, this sounds great. Lets do it. I may also added Damian calling the reader grandma. I just wanted to.

Summary: (Y/N) and Ra's know each other for a long time.

Warnings: both are a power couple, I swear, mentions of killing, stabbing each other, loving one another, a whole lot of relationships with this.

(Y/N) and Ra's al Ghul go a very long way back. Extremely long. About 400 years to be more specific. The two started off as enemies. And since the two were essentially immortal with the Lazarus pit. The two have killed each other more times they could count. It was stress relief almost for them both.

And they enjoyed the games they have played. Hunting each other down, trying to kill the other, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Not to mention, the bragging rights from (Y/N)'s side. It's no easy feat to kill Ra's al Ghul. And Ra's would strike back. It's a good way to get some stress out, just like said before.

But over time, something else grew and the two became lovers, loving each other fiercely. It was a love story for the ages, as the two would joke. In modern terms, they would be a true power couple. Both of them strong in their own right and if they are separated, they can both hold on their own. And if together?

True meaning of terror and fear in their world.

And they were a power couple for a long time.

But sooner than later, love started to fizzle out. And while they were married, they became friends. It was nice to have a friend in Ra's, despite being a killer and everything in between. Ra's is a loyal friend, the one who wouldn't betray you for anything. That's what (Y/N) knew at least. Of course, that same courtesy came from (Y/N).

Safe to say, the two were loyal to each other to the bone.

And even when they entered that stage of being purely and utterly annoyed with each other, they were still loyal to the bone to each other. It was rare to find a person like that, whom you could annoy to the point of stabbing each other. Which has happen before.

(Y/N) on his knees, Ra's holding a knife implanted in (Y/N)'s stomach, both of them smiling at each other. Even kissing each other while the knife was in one of them. Talk about twisted love. (Y/N) and Ra's have been through a lot and one of the things he remembers vividly is Talia's birth. And it was one of his favorite memories. He may or may have not cried when he held Talia for the first time. It is something that has officially ingrained into his brain.

He got called mother as a result. He didn't like it at first, however, it grew on him. Soon enough, it became an inside joke and he couldn't really be mad at it. It was something... It felt like home, (Y/N) would say.

Soon enough, (Y/N) started travelling, using Ra's' money to do so? Why? Ra's has enough of it already and travelling in the best hotels in the world wouldn't make a dent in his pocket. Never has and it never will. Ra's simply handed him the credit card with a smile and a kiss.

" Go wherever your heart desires beloved. "

And he did.

He travelled a lot, seeing the world, doing what his heart desired. Of course, he stayed in contact with Ra's and Talia during his travels. He would share updates about what he saw and learned. However, he came back once he heard that his daughter was pregnant. He was essentially going to be a grandfather.

Well, he would be a grandmother as the joke from years ago would come back to bite him in the ass. And it bit him hard. While Talia's pregnancy progressed, she would often talk to the baby, talking about how he will met grandmother (Y/N). And how did (Y/N) react?

He simply scoffed, saying it's too early in the day to deal with this. It would make Talia chuckle and Ra's would smirk, enjoying the sight of his husband getting teased.

Yes, husband.

They decided to remarry because the feelings have returned to romantical ones, they were no longer platonic. They would be back to spending time together, sitting on the balcony, sipping their wines and holding hands as they were watching the sunset. It felt just like old times.

And yes, he was present when Damian was born. He may or may have not cried in private. What can he say, he just felt like he had a family. Ra's was happy too, with an heir worthy of taking over the League. Of course, the father being Bruce Wayne, Damian is more than worthy of being the Leader once Ra's no longer there.

Once Damian turned 9, (Y/N) went back to travelling the world. He enjoyed it.

It's been years since he came back from the travel. The League was oddly quiet. (Y/N) didn't think much of it and came back to take a break, bringing food and gifts for everyone. He didn't expect to see a fight breaking out, but he has decided to stand by and watch. He was too jet lagged to even think about fighting. So he waited as he ate, completely entranced into the fight. Ra's fought with ferocity against Batman.

Talia was busy with the 4 birds, Damian included. He watched his daughter fighting, impressed by her skills. Ra's has taught her very well. He took a chair and then sat down to watch. Both Ra's and Talia fought with ferociousness, using every tactic they could remember to fight off the Bats as the family was called that to shorten it up.

And (Y/N) found the nickname really funny. He leaned back into the chair, watching in fascination.

" Mother?! " Talia exclaimed, making everyone freeze.

" Grandmother?! " Damian exclaimed, but from excitement. Damian didn't see him for a long time and Talia hadn't expected him to come back yet.

Damian run to him and (Y/N) gave him a hug. He missed his grandson and once he heard that he was in Gotham, he had an urge to visit. But God only knows how Bruce would have reacted. He probably wouldn't have let in anyhow. And despite (Y/N) being an Al Ghul, he has enough respect to not break into the Manor. And he didn't want to make a bad impression on his unofficial son in law.

" Hello Damian. How are you doing? " (Y/N) asked Damian, while everyone else watched.

" I've been doing well. And you grandmother? "

" Is that really still stuck? Call me grandpa. Not grandmother. "

" I prefer grandmother. "

" Of course you do. A Robin suit? Nice. I hope Bruce is treating you well. Otherwise I'll have to turn on my protective mode, " (Y/N) said to Damian, who actually chuckled.

" I'm doing well in Gotham. "

" Good. Good... Also, I might come to visit soon. " The last part was directed at Bruce and (Y/N) wasn't going to take no for an answer. His grandson comes first. Alongside his daughter.

" Now, fighting is over. I'm jet lagged beyond belief so I would kindly ask the birds and the big bat to leave. Fight in a few weeks, I don't care. Right now, some peace and quiet sounds good, " (Y/N) has declared, making Ra's smirk.

" Of course beloved. Anything for you. " Ra's said and (Y/N) nodded, happy to have his way after the stupid jet lag.

" Good. Also, nice to meet you the rest of the birds, but I have no time to chat. " (Y/N) took his things into his hands and then left to his shared bedchambers with Ra's.

[jayniks]

SEX NOTE (p.js)

after summoning heeseung, you wandered around your room looking for any ideas. Seeing your poster of your favorite band, you thought "why not invoke the guitarist?" and that's what you did, although the situation was quickly reversed when you saw how malicious he was.

WC . 2,3k

PAIRING . Shinigami!jay x fan!reader

WARNINGS . smut (mdni), oral sex (m receiving), tease, anal sex, mouth fucking, a little cuck!jake?, mentions of Jake's mom and Jake himself, magical appearance, chocking, a little filler just like in the original series, degradation, tying, unreal themes, a bit of noncon?, squirt, curses, let me know if I left something out.

< go back . next chapter >

Let's forget about that awkward interaction with Jake and let's talk about you, although let's not let pass that you avoided each other for 2 days in a row, what matters is that now you two are talking. About what? I don't know, he mentioned something about a trip to Australia for a week to see his family but you weren't paying much attention, you were aware that he was probably abandoning you to avoid any more awkwardness, after all, no one would act nice after listening to his best friend that he knew since he was 3, who helped her in her worst moments, fucking they favorite idol NEXT to his room.

"Dummy, are you even listening to me?" Jake asked in a somewhat tired tone. His words brought you out of your trance and you just nodded, "really? summarize what I said" he looked at you seriously. "Um, are you going on a trip home?" You exclaimed without much confidence, maybe you should have listened to him but you felt physically and mentally exhausted after that night in which a magical book fulfilled your fantasy. "Oh yeah? And why?" He looked at you again with those judging eyes, God, how you hated him. "I don't know," you admitted, already imagining the scolding that awaited you. "I'm going to Australia to see my family, I'll only be gone for 5 days, please don't come into my room, take care of the apartment" he warned you, you knew it was better to listen to him.

"Yes Jakey, I understand, please send my regards to your mom-" you didn't finish the sentence because you were interrupted by your friend, "No, you're going to take her away from me, it seems like she loves you more than me," and with that lie he left the dining room to go pack his bags in his own room. Within hours, you were at the door hugging goodbye, after all, you didn't hate him that much. The house was desolate, you felt more alone than ever.... it's good that you had the book to help you. It was a little selfish and self-centered that you cared more about the book than your own best friend who watched you grow up. But you know what else grew? Your desire to try more people.

You ran to your room and sat at your desk to prepare to look at the notebook. You just did that, watching it for almost 10 minutes, maybe waiting for it to start writing itself. Finally, you opened it, there was what you had written about Heeseung yesterday, in the first few lines of the page. You had the decision whether to repeat the same thing from yesterday or write a new story below. You scanned your room for something, anything, to find any answer to a question you hadn't asked yet. Your favorite Chinese actress? No, she was in a relationship. Your teacher? Ew, gross. Your favorite band? No! There were a lot of people and you would just go on the safe side- OH GOD! YOUR FAVORITE BAND!

Sure, Glam was your favorite band years ago, but it was a band from the '30s, the members were already dead, although you were hyper fixated on the guitarist, Jay Park. Of course, he was the most beautiful man you had ever seen before; his upturned nose, his strong jaw, the way his cheeks are marked when he smiles, those skillful fingers... if you were to mention all the reasons why you love him you would probably never finish and this fanfic would never be published.

You grabbed the same pencil you had written about your night with Heeseung with, hoping to capture a new adventure, this time with Jay. Emotions overwhelmed you, but this time you wanted to give it a different touch, perhaps less imaginative and more direct. You sat at your desk, ready to put every detail on paper. "Jay Park from the Glam group will appear..." you began to write, but suddenly the pencil stopped working. Frustrated, you looked at the tip, trying to figure out what had happened. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You decided to try scratching the pencil on a piece of paper to the side. But no matter how hard you tried, there wasn't a single mark. Resigned, you grabbed a permanent marker, determined not to let a simple pencil stop you. With a firm hand, you started again: "Jay Park from the group Gla..." But, just as you were about to finish the word, something strange happened. The letters began to fade before your eyes, as if the paper was rebelling against your attempts. Desperation took over you. You gripped the marker tighter and began scratching furiously on the page, as if the simple act of writing could exorcise the frustration you felt. But in your outburst, the blade tore with a tearing sound.

Suddenly, the book opened on its own, as if it had a life of its own. The pages began to move, creating a ghostly wind in the room. Dark letters appeared on the torn page, slowly forming a sentence: "For being greedy, you will be punished." Fear paralyzed you, a chill ran down your spine. It was as if the book was alive and aware of your desires and failings. You felt a rising panic, a primal fear that told you something terrible was about to happen. You closed your eyes, resigned to your fate, waiting for the punishment that, according to the book, you deserved. The room fell into a deep silence, and you prepared to face the unknown, your blood freezing and your heart pounding in your chest...

Silence.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes of silence, and nothing had happened. Confused, you looked around, but everything remained the same. You thought maybe you had read it wrong, but no, nothing had happened. You sighed in relief, trying to convince yourself that maybe the book had just played a prank on you. Maybe you had imagined it all, the result of your sexual frustration and lack of sleep. Yes, that must have been it, you were delirious, right? With a slightly clearer conscience, you turned to make the bed that you hadn't tidied since Jake left for Australia. Time had passed quickly since then, and the mess was piling up. But just as you were going to start cleaning, you felt a chill run down your spine.

When you turn around, you almost had a heart attack when you see the guitarist of your favorite band sitting on your bed, looking at you with a machiavellian smile. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Weren't you expecting me?" He said, faking a pout as he spoke to you. You were petrified. How was it possible? Had it just appeared out of nowhere? Your mind couldn't form a coherent thought when suddenly he grabbed you by the neck, choking you, and threw you hard onto the bed. "Honestly, I didn't expect to show up like this. I thought you would use the book wisely," he hissed. His words surprised you. Did you know about the book? Nothing made sense. What was happening? "You're wondering a lot of things, gorgeous. Do you really think a book like that would come alone?" He chuckled, his tone clearly mocking, "I'm a Shinigami. Who do you think gave your friend the note?"

Oh right, Sim fucking Jaeyun.

Jake was coming back from shopping, it was not his best day, the plastic of the bag he was carrying broke and his purchases flew due to the storm that hit just 4 minutes ago. He sighed in defeat, looking down to avoid getting soaked by the rain because his umbrella bent and broke. He wasn't looking forward so he ended up colliding with a stranger. He was going to turn around to apologize but there was no one there. He looked at the floor and saw a black notebook that was covered with a layer of plastic so it wouldn't get wet. At least he won't return home empty-handed.

Let's go back to where we left off, 'Jay' turned you around putting your arms behind your back. He took off his belt and tied your arms with it, leaving you completely at his mercy. He grabbed your hair, pulling you back and turning your head a little to whisper something near the juncture of your ear and cheek. "I didn't steal that fucking book so that a dirty human like you could come and desecrate it, scratching it and destroying it just out of anger," he spat with venom in his tone. He proceeded to throw you to the ground, kneeling in front of him while he looked at you superiorly. Your response was to look him in the eyes with pleading eyes, praying that he would even take pity on you and not hurt you.

He took your jaw in his hands, forcing you to look at him, and then he parted your lips, putting his thumb inside your mouth. "Let's see how well you know how to use that beautiful little mouth" he let out along with a deep laugh and then grabbed his erect member and passed his head over your lips, smearing them with pre-cum. You took the hint immediately and gobbled down what you could, leaving a considerable portion out due to its size, something that Jay didn't care about because when he heard your first 'gag' he pushed your head until your nose was touching his pelvis.

You were surprised and your throat contracted, you felt very strange, but you didn't think much about it either because he took his member out of your mouth the same way he put it in. You were about to breathe when, oh surprise, he thrust it back in! He made that move repeatedly, fucking your throat to his pleasure. "This is what you wanted, huh? You needy fucking slut". The boy exclaimed with a harsh voice, but do you know what else was even harsher? Your throat. His cock entered and left your throat with inhuman ease (because he's not human hahaha), letting drops of your own saliva mixed with precum fall into your mouth. You felt like you were choking, so Jay, being the gentleman he is, pulled his cock roughly out of your throat, holding onto your hair to keep you still as you took a sharp breath. He looked at you superiorly and proceeded to laugh at your state, "God, look at you, so pathetic, and we're just getting started," he smirked. Taking advantage of your weak state, he threw you on the bed with your legs bent, face down, leaving your butt within his reach and whim.

You had your head down so as not to turn around to see him, although I don't blame you, it would scare me too. You felt his cold hands caress your back and pajama pants. The calm was short-lived when you felt him tear your pants, making a hole in the center, right where your holes were. You couldn't see anything, and you felt disgusted by the fact that the fear you felt was turning you on. Your panties were wet, as were your buttocks from the licks Jay left behind. You swallowed dryly as you felt him rip your panties for more access, although that wasn't the worst, that came when you finally realized he wasn't going for your pussy, he was going for your asshole. You were going to protest about that but the scream that left your throat silenced all the words you had learned so far. He entered your inexperienced hole with the same force he used on your throat.

Your forehead hitting the headboard wasn't the most painful thing, curiously neither was his thrusts, it was the way your back was bending to keep you in a position where you wouldn't break. You knew Jay was talking to you, but you didn't understand, your mind was clouded by two things: pleasure and pain. Because of the position you were in you could feel your juices running down your legs and the splash when his sack hit your pussy. You couldn't take it anymore, it was too much for you, you began to feel that tickling in your belly that was so familiar but so different at the same time, it felt like your orgasm was close but much more powerful.

Jay's tip was mercilessly pounding that space inside you, which was enough to make you collapse, spurting his sack that only did more than slap your pussy to splatter more. Your throat was hot from the screams that came from it, being replaced by long sighs once Jay stopped for a few moments, perhaps to make sure you were okay, was there any goodness within that mocking creature? Well, no, because he proceeded to resume his thrusts with the same brutality as before. He crouched down a little so he was at the same height as your head so he could whisper some words to you that you had barely caught, "I'm not done yet."

Jake had tried to call you to let you know he was returning; he had bought the ticket for the next week. Once inside your shared apartment, he proceeded to look for you. "(___) you will not believe me!" he shouted excitedly, hoping his voice would resonate in the silence of the apartment. However, he received no response. He walked through the living room and kitchen, but he didn't find you. He heard sounds similar to your voice, which was a relief, but worry began to grow inside him, because he also heard other sounds accompanying yours.

Jake approached the door, narrowing his eyes in curiosity and some trepidation. The sounds were like knocks, followed by slimy-sounding splashes, clear enough to pique his interest. Without a second thought, he turned the knob and slowly opened the door. What he saw on the other side left him speechless, his best friend being ridden by another person he couldn't recognize.

Taglist:

@nshmrarki @cha0thicpisces @seokseokjinkim @kimsunoo2003 @rikisave @strxwbloody @nyfwyeonjun @enhalusional @kgneptun @fleurixzs @simpjay

Enha Taglist only:

@lilyuwon @myywonie @ratedjaeyoon

(I couldn't tag the others)

©: made by jayniks on tumblr, do not copy or adapt my works on any platform without my consent.

A/N: omg guys thank you so much for those 700 followers! I honestly didn't expect so much love from your part 🥺🫶 also, let me know if y'all want a kinktober ^^

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Drunk Toto falling in love again with his wife because he doesn't remember her. But his heart does. Thanks!! :))

You should have known this night was going to be long the moment the victory champagne spilled across the garage, glistening like liquid diamonds under the floodlights. The team’s celebration shifted seamlessly from the paddock to the pulsing beat of a club, where music throbbed and lights flickered in neon arcs. You watched from a plush seat as investors swarmed Toto, offering cheers and shots in congratulation. He accepted each drink with polite grace, a twinkle in his eye that spoke of pride.

But as the night rolled on, that twinkle grew a bit glassy.

"How many drinks do you think that is now?" Lewis asked, dropping into the seat next to you, his grin wide. You laughed, watching Toto across the room, his broad frame towering above most, now slightly swaying as he spoke with some sponsors.

“Enough for me to expect a very long morning tomorrow,” you said, rolling your eyes fondly.

Suddenly, a warm arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you slightly. You turned to find Toto standing there, a mischievous, tipsy grin spreading across his face.

“Lewis,” he drawled, a hint of an Austrian accent thicker than usual. “Won’t you introduce me to this stunning creature you’ve been hogging all night?”

Your jaw dropped, and Lewis’s eyes widened, flicking to you in a moment of silent shock. You bit back a laugh as the realization set in—he was so drunk, he didn’t recognize you.

Lewis smirked, catching on quickly. “Oh, Toto, of course,” he said, playing along. “This is... my friend.”

Toto turned his full attention to you, his eyes sweeping over you with admiration. “Enchanté,” he said, taking your hand and pressing a gallant kiss to your knuckles. The warmth of his lips sent a flutter through your chest, even after years of marriage.

“Nice to meet you,” you teased, eyes twinkling. “Do you make a habit of charming random women at parties?”

“Only when they’re this beautiful,” he said, his smile lopsided. He leaned in, the scent of expensive whiskey and his familiar cologne clouding your senses. “There’s something about you... it feels like I’ve known you my whole life.”

Your breath caught in your throat. There was sincerity in his tone that made your heart swell. You glanced at Lewis, who watched with a barely concealed grin, clearly entertained by the turn of events.

“Is that so?” you said, tilting your head. “Well, you should know, I’m married.”

Toto’s brows lifted, his expression caught between delight and disbelief. “Lucky man,” he murmured, eyes narrowing in playful jealousy. “Tell me, does he treat you well?”

“Very well,” you said, stepping closer, barely able to hold back your laughter. “In fact, he looks a lot like you.”

He studied you for a moment, as if the fog in his mind was straining to lift. Then, a slow smile broke across his face, softening his features. His hand came up to touch your cheek, thumb tracing a familiar path. “It’s you,” he whispered, voice low with awe, as though seeing you for the first time again.

“It’s me,” you confirmed, your voice softening.

For a second, time seemed to stop. Then, the sparkle in his eyes turned brighter, love breaking through the haze of drunkenness. “Well, in that case,” he said, pulling you flush against him, “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

You laughed, the sound swallowed by his kiss—deep, earnest, as if he really was falling for you all over again. And in that crowded club, surrounded by flashing lights and laughter, he did.