#Impressive wine selection

[namasteindiarestaurant]

Experience Authentic Flavors at One of the Best Indian Restaurants in Phnom Penh

In the vibrant culinary scene of Phnom Penh, where diverse flavors from around the world converge, Indian cuisine holds a special place. For food enthusiasts seeking bold, aromatic, and rich flavors, the Indian dining experience is unmatched. As one of the top Indian restaurants in Phnom Penh, we bring the essence of India to the heart of Cambodia’s bustling capital.

A True Taste of India

Our restaurant is dedicated to offering an authentic taste of Indian food in Phnom Penh. Whether you’re a fan of the rich, creamy curries of North India or the spicy, coconut-infused dishes from the South, our extensive menu caters to all palates. Each dish is crafted using traditional recipes and freshly sourced ingredients, ensuring that every bite is a journey through India’s rich culinary heritage.

One of the Best Restaurants in Phnom Penh

As one of the best restaurants in Phnom Penh, we take pride in delivering not only incredible food but also a welcoming and memorable dining experience. Our warm ambiance, attentive service, and beautifully plated dishes make us a favorite among both locals and tourists looking to explore Indian cuisine.

We believe that great food should always be accompanied by a great experience. From the moment you step into our restaurant, you’ll be greeted with the vibrant colors, tantalizing aromas, and warm hospitality that define Indian culture. Whether you’re dining with family, friends, or hosting a special event, our restaurant is the perfect setting to enjoy the best Indian food Phnom Penh has to offer.

A Rich Variety of Dishes to Savor

Our diverse menu is designed to cater to every taste, offering classic Indian dishes such as:

Tandoori Specialties: Enjoy marinated meats and vegetables cooked in our traditional clay oven, giving them a smoky, char-grilled flavor.

Curries: From mild butter chicken to fiery vindaloo, our curries are packed with robust flavors and made to perfection.

Vegetarian Delights: Indian cuisine is renowned for its vegetarian offerings, and we serve a range of dishes like paneer tikka, dal makhani, and vegetable biryani that satisfy vegetarians and non-vegetarians alike.

Freshly Baked Breads: Complement your meal with a variety of naan breads, including garlic naan, butter naan, and stuffed kulchas.

We also offer refreshing beverages and decadent desserts, like mango lassi and gulab jamun, to complete your meal.

The Go-To Indian Food Spot in Phnom Penh

Whether you’re new to Indian cuisine or a seasoned fan, our Indian restaurant in Phnom Penh is the ideal place to savor the flavors of India. Our experienced chefs prepare each dish with care and attention to detail, ensuring that every meal is a celebration of taste.

From casual lunches to elegant dinners, our restaurant is a top destination for those looking for authentic Indian food in Phnom Penh. We also cater to various dietary preferences, offering vegan, vegetarian, and gluten-free options to ensure everyone can enjoy a delicious meal.

Discover the Best Indian Restaurant in Phnom Penh

In a city known for its diverse culinary options, we stand out as one of the best restaurants in Phnom Penh, offering a unique blend of traditional Indian flavors and a warm, inviting atmosphere. Whether you’re in the mood for a quick bite or a lavish feast, we’re here to deliver an unforgettable dining experience.

Visit us and immerse yourself in the rich and varied flavors of India. Let our restaurant be your gateway to an authentic Indian culinary journey right here in Phnom Penh!

[crashandlivewrites]

Spread Your Wings- Part 1

This came from some very, very horny brainrot from a porn star by the name of Manuel Ferrara and got me thinking. And writing.

Pairing: PornStar!John Price x PornStar!fem!reader

Summary: Porn wasn't your ideal career choice, but here you were. Your manager has just contacted you saying a veteran of the field has requested to work with you as he winds down his career. The only issue? You've definitely gotten yourself off to him multiple times, leaving your professionalism in question. And John, well, John's not helping the situaiton with how he treats you.

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, porn industry inaccuracies, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), fantasy relationship, John being an absolute munch (duh), consent and check ins (because John is responsible in every universe)

Word Count: 4.9k

Part 2 >

Read on Ao3

It wasn’t your first career choice, nor your second, third, or fourth. In fact, if you were honest with yourself, it was never even a thought. Yet here you were, several performances into your adult entertainment career and on a steady rise with a decent paycheque along with it. But you were yet to experience a big break, one that would just allow you to feel a little more settled, give you the standing to be pickier with the roles you selected to film. And you had feeling that this next one was going to be that breakthrough. 

Holding your phone in your hand, you read and re-read the message from your manager that he’d sent you earlier in the day. 

Got a personal request to film with you. John Price. Details listed below. 

John Price. John fucking Price. That man practically owned the porn industry. One of the most popular male actors for almost the past couple of decades. You’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t done a deep dive or two into his repertoire of videos on long, lonely nights with a bottle of wine and some toys to accompany you. Porn was one thing. John Price porn was another. He was older, hot, and had thick, veiny, mouthwatering cock that made you squeeze your thighs together every time you saw it. But that wasn’t what had drawn you back to his videos time and time again. It was the way he seemed almost… tender. Rough, to be sure. But also, sweet.

 And he wanted to film with you. You. He had only released a few videos in the past year, slowly winding down his career to instead focus on his hobbies and other interests. Or at least that’s what his team had told the media. 

The document your manager had attached to the text was a simple call sheet with the basic run down of the shoot. It was nothing you hadn’t done before. In fact, it seemed vanilla in comparison to most porn, but that’s what John Price was known for. Soft sex. Romantic sex. Pussy pleasing— if you wanted to be a little crass, but that was the reason he was a massive hit with the audience. You’d also heard from other co-stars that he was incredible to work with. Charming, attentive, and made sure his partners always felt comfortable. 

And he requested you? 

That was the part that stunned you the most. You stared at the two names on the call sheet, his name directly next to yours under the subheading ‘cast’. You blinked, wondering if you’d imagined it. But your name remained, and you were meeting with him in— you glanced at the time and swore. Less than an hour before you had to be on site and the drive took a good twenty minutes on a good day. 

Hopping into the shower, you knew you’d have time to prep on site, but there was something in you that wanted to make a good impression on your costar, craved making a good impression to someone as decorated and well-respected as John Price in the industry. 

***

As your manager was walking with you to the meeting room, you realised you’d never actually met John Price before. Sure, you’d seen him around at a few work events, but he was a rare sight at social gatherings these days. You could feel the nerves bubbling underneath your skin as your manager scrolled on his phone, muttering comments under his breath as he went. 

“Pretty much one of his last videos. Or at least that’s what his manager said. I’m honestly surprised he chose you over someone more well known, but it’s great for your career.” The subtle dig wasn’t missed on you, but there was some truth to your manager’s words, and you’d been thinking the exact same. Why had he chosen to work with you, someone practically unknown to him? Maybe it was a question you’d never have an answer to as you stopped outside of the door, fixing your hair unconsciously before pushing the door open. 

He was already in the room, sitting next to his own manager, Kate if you remembered correctly, with the director at the head of the table. Smiling at the group, you ducked your head and mumbled a couple of apologies about being late as you hurried to your seat, directly across from him. There was a general murmur from the room acknowledging your apologies before returning to their conversations. You swallowed thickly as you raised your head, meeting his deep blue eyes as he stared at you, the corners crinkled as a wide smile stretched over his face, a smile, it seemed, that was just for you.

“Hey sweetheart, lovely to meet you. I’m John.” He spoke lowly, quietly, as though to the of you were sharing a secret. His voice was rough but soothing, exactly like it had been in all the videos you’d watched of him. Crossing your legs, you held out your hand to shake his with your own shy grin as you introduced yourself. 

“It’s an honour to be working with you, John.” It wasn’t a lie. You had a lot to gain from working with him. Just having your name on the call sheet was enough to open doors for you. The director was Nikolai, who you’d never worked with before, but you knew he was a good friend of John’s. He also shook your hand before getting the meeting underway, outlying the expectations, and going over the general script. There wasn’t much to the story, like most of John’s scenes, but you weren’t complaining. Little story meant less lines to remember and John tended to improv. Next was an overall brief of safety, a rundown of yours and John’s likes and dislikes during scenes before everything started to wrap up.

 Once signing the consent forms, your manager stood up, nodding to you as he collected the form along with Kate and Nikolai. 

“I’ll leave you two to it.” He spoke. Your brows furrowed, feeling your heart race as you glanced over at John who shot you a warm smile.  

“John prefers to talk to his scene partners one on one beforehand.” Kate explained, patting her colleague on the shoulder. “Something he’s always done. Allows you to get to know each other a little better.” 

“Oh.” Your voice was small, but you nodded as the trio left the room, leaving you alone with someone you’ve gotten off to before. 

“I know it’s a little unconventional, but I feel like it smooths things out for the scene.” He explains gently, pouring two glasses of water and passing one to you. “I’ve seen your work. You’re good. I liked the one you did with Johnny.” People often think that working in adult entertainment rids you of awkward modesty, but here you were, face heating and glancing away from the older man as he fully admitted to watching your scenes and was complimenting you on your performance.

Your scene with Johnny had been enjoyable, which had been a rare occurrence in your experience in the field. It was a job after all, not filled with screaming pleasure like scenes often displayed. But Johnny had made it easy, fun. Kept the mood lighthearted during the retakes and scene cuts. 

“It’s probably been one of my favourites to date. Johnny was good to work with. I know you’ve worked with him before.” John nodded. 

“A couple of times for threesomes and gang bangs when he was first starting out. But I stopped doing group scenes once he got on his feet. Wasn’t really my thing.” He shrugged, eyes carefully watching you even as he lifted the glass to his mouth. You hummed, pursing your lips, and interlocking your fingers. Letting out a huff, John placed the glass down and reached out, resting one of his large hands over yours, thumb caressing your knuckles. 

“You’re okay, sweetheart. I know the reputation my name can bring but I assure you, anything you’re not comfortable with, it’s off the table.” Your shoulders relaxed as your head lifted, a genuine smile on your face. 

“Thanks, John. I just… you’re very seasoned in the field.” You winced at the word choice, but he chuckled, standing up to walk around the table and take a seat next to you. 

“With my expertise comes the ability to adjust things to my liking. It’s why I work with Nikolai. He knows how I work, lets me run the show really and works his mastery by getting the angles that make me look mildly flattering.” 

“You’re flattering from all angles, John.” At the compliment, he raised his brow, eyes trailing down your body for a moment before snapping back up to yours. 

“Seen my work, have you?” He teased, the smile turning cocky as he leaned back in his chair, rested his cheek on his fist. You shot him a look of your own, which answered everything. “So, you know how I tend to conduct my scenes?” 

“You like to please your viewers.” You answered confidently (answering questions about your scene partners sex scenes is something both normal to want and possible to do, right? You might even get a good grade.) “Your tendency to lean towards softer sex brings in a more female-dominant audience.” The smile reaches his eyes, lighting them up in a way you found particularly charming. 

“I like to please pussy. An important distinction.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s why I became more selective about my scene partners.” 

You were thankful your legs were already crossed over, covering the urge to squeeze your thighs together at the lowering of his tone. A question nagged in the back of your mind. Why you? But you weren’t confident enough to ask it.

“How do you want the scene to run?” You asked instead, turning the conversation back a little more professional. John shrugged. 

“I like to let things flow semi-naturally. Enjoy a lot of sensual touching and kissing. I’m getting older so I don’t enjoy the rough and fast constant fucking like I used to. Also, a lot harder to keep it going for that long.” He glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye. “Besides, I find my scene partner enjoys it more when there’s a lot more sensual physical contact involved.”

“And how would you know that?” Your voice was coyer than you felt, leaning towards him as you placed your elbow on the arm rest. His head tilted the expression on his face overwhelmingly cocky as he snorted. 

His voice lowered to a velvety purr. I’ve become good at reading people, sweetheart. I can tell the difference when people fake feeling good, and who’s actually into it. If I’m going to spend my time coming into a studio, I want to enjoy the day’s work, and for my partner to as well.” 

The hairs on your arms stood on end as his voice lowered, his eyes boring into yours as he waited patiently for you to respond. Running your tongue along the line of your teeth, you processed his words. 

“How do you know that we’ll work out, though? We’ve never worked together before. Wouldn’t it be easier doing a scene like this with someone you’re more comfortable with?” 

“Sweetheart,” John shuffled forward on the chair, placing a reassuring hand on your thigh, thumb tracing over the inside of your knee. “I’ve watched your work; seen what scenes you feel more comfortable with. Had Kate speak to your manager too, to get an idea of what your preferences were. I think we’ll work out fine.” 

“You asked about me?” Your eyes were fixed on where his hand rested, looking at the thickness of his fingers and swallowing. 

“I like to know who I’m working with. But I also had to listen to Johnny talk about you for hours after his scene. Thought I should take the buck down a peg and show him how a real veteran pleases a lady.” His breathing was levelled and composed, the complete opposite to yours, allowing him to hear exactly how much he was affecting you. You swallowed thickly as you tried to keep some semblance of professionalism while his thumb rubbed slow circles into your thigh, and you began to worry about the state of your panties.

“It’s porn, John.” You whispered, eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to surreptitiously shift in your seat. “It’s acting, it’s a job.” 

“Doesn’t have to be, sweets. Who says you can’t enjoy your work? Especially when you’re good at it, huh?” His smile broadened as he lifted his free hand to smooth over the bristles of his thick beard. Squeezing your thigh one last time before standing up, cupping your chin to ensure your head follows his movements. 

“You can back out at any time. Just say the word. But until then, I’ll see you in 30 on set, yeah? You’ll find your uniform in your change-room.” Two fingers tapped your cheek before he stepped out of the room, leaving you alone, hot, and bothered. Thank fuck for the change of clothes. Hopefully you wouldn’t soak through these panties as well, but after all, it is porn.

Taking a bit of time to freshen yourself up, you stood, staring down at the so-called ‘uniform’ John had told you about. A thin satin slip nightdress with some lacy white underwear, bra foregone. You couldn’t help but feel your heart in your throat at the thought of John specifically picking out the piece with you in mind. Surely, he’d done this with all of his costars. 

As you thought back to each of his videos, trying to recall what each of them had been wearing, unwarranted jealousy filled your head instead and you squeezed your eyes tight. He was a costar. Nothing more. This was his job. He was many years your senior. It was silly, childish, and petty to get jealous over the other people he’d slept with, especially professionally. But he’d chosen you to film with, and that stirred some primal, possessive part of you, and you slid the silk over you, wondering how thick fingers might rip it off.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your head, snapping you into gear as you changed. Pulling it open, you saw Kate standing there waiting. Her gaze remained professional as she admired the dress. 

“It suits you well. John’s always had a good eye for things like that. Come, let’s head to set.” Walking at a steady pace, you kept the conversation flowing. 

“Does John usually do things like this?” You pointed down at the dress, trying to keep your tone neutral. Kate laughed lightly, shaking her head. 

“Not always. Usually only with his favourites.” She gazed at you out of the corner of her eye. “But he’s so winding down on his career, so maybe he’s just in a generous mood.” There was something in her tone that left you feeling slightly baffled, no closer to understanding the reason why he’d picked this out for you. 

Stepping into the studio, the first person you noticed was John, dressed in a button-down shirt with fitted slacks. He whistled lowly, eyes unabashedly roaming over your figure. 

“Look at you. Knew that colour would suit you well. Come. The sooner we get started, the sooner we can enjoy ourselves, yeah?” He held out a hand, motioning towards the set.

“You didn’t have to.” You breathed, glancing down at the dress. “But I really appreciate the gesture. Almost makes me feel bad for not getting anything for you.” Taking his hand, he leads you towards the bedroom set, where you were playing his partner in an established relationship, waiting for him to come home late from work. 

“The gift is working with you, sweets, and looking so perfect in that dress.” His stare was a little hungrier this time, raking over your body. Squeezing your hand, he stepped back behind the camera as Nikolai motioned for the scene to begin.

***

As you stood leaning over the kitchen bench, you hear John step onto the set, placing down the empty prop briefcase as he sighed heavily. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m home.” A hand clasped over your hip as he pulled you towards him, burying his face in your neck. Reaching up, you cupped the back of his head, humming softly as you tilted your pelvis back against his. His fingers dug into your hip firmly, a deep rumble in his throat probably not audible enough to be picked up by the microphone. 

“Welcome home, honey. Did you have a good day? 

“Better now that I’m here.” He replied almost instantly, body hands now cupping your body, breath heavy on your skin as he trailed his fingers up and down the lines of your body. “Especially when my wife is lookin’ so pretty in what I bought her.” 

His… wife? That hadn’t been specified in the script. Sure, it said an established relationship, but there was something that stirred inside you at the sound of that word coming from his mouth in reference to you. And so, you played along. 

“Gotta make sure I look pretty for my husband, don’t I?” You purred, turning your head to his as you grinned, pressing your lips to his temple, nails dragging over his scalp. 

“Always look pretty, lovey. Pretty for me, hmm?” God he really was good at making his costars feel wanted, pinging the right receptors in your brain that craved this for real. You moaned prettily, arching your back for both John and the camera as his hands slid up your front, thick fingers ghosting teasingly over your breasts as he mouthed at your neck. Whimpering, you placed one hand over his, trying to urge his hand down, but he tittered in your ear. 

“So desperate, aren’t you? Don’t worry, you’ll get what you want. Just let me play with you first, yeah?” You nodded at him as you glanced over your shoulder. There was no way you were going to say no, not with the way his large hands were running over your body, tugging the pathetic excuse for clothing as he went. Your lashes fluttered as his lips sealed over your neck, sucking softly as he ground his erection into your ass. 

God he was already hard. The voice of reason in the back of your head told you he’d most likely taken viagra like a lot of the men did to keep it up for so long, but the fantasy you were playing through your head liked to think it was all you. Letting out another low growl, John bared his teeth, biting into your neck before sucking soothingly. 

“No marking!” You heard your manager exclaim in the background, before being hushed by Nikolai. 

“Don’t interrupt. He knows what he’s doing.”

As if to spite your manager further, John swept your hair away, latching onto the other side of your neck, drawing out a soft moan as you clung to his short hair, encouraging him further. 

“Yes! Please! Mark me as yours.” John presses his weight against you, causing you to fall forward onto your elbows on the bench. Hands cupped the globes of your ass roughly as he pressed a line of kisses down your exposed spine. 

“My pretty fuckin’ wife, aren’t ya?” His voice was thick with desire as his fingers teased the hem of your dress, scrunching it up until it lifted over your ass. John groaned as he revealed the swell of your cheeks, the thin straps of the white thong he’d bought barely covering anything. “Look at you. So fuckin’ pretty. Too fuckin’ pretty for me. Can’t believe you married me. I’m so lucky to have you, sweets. Perfect girl f’me ain’t cha?” 

Your head was spinning as the words of praise kept coming. Bent over the kitchen bench, ass on display for him, and held down by one of his strong arms made you feel incredibly vulnerable yet secure in a way you hadn’t felt filming before. 

“One leg up for me?” He tapped the outside of your thigh, and you hitched it up obediently, knee resting on the bench to expose yourself further to him. John let out a low breath as he sunk to his knees between your spread legs. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a camera following his movements and so, like you’d been taught, you clenched, causing your clothed cunt to throb for the camera. And for John. You heard him chuckle and glanced over your shoulder to see him staring up at you with a brow raised. 

“Cheeky thing.” 

His hands ran up the backs of your legs, causing you to shiver in anticipation. His breath was close to where you wanted him and you whined in response, tilting your hips back ever so slightly to display your soaked underwear better for the camera. At that movement, John clicked his tongue and slapped your ass. 

“This pussy’s mine, y’hear?” He growled almost possessively, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread for him. “Look at you. So wet and eager for me, huh? Bought you these pretty knickers and you’ve already ruined them.” One finger gently traced along the length of your clothed slit, and you keened, trying to push your hips back to gain more friction, but his other arm wrapped around your hips, pinning them to the cold bench. 

“Don’t get greedy now, sweetheart. You’ll get what you want, just let me admire you first.” Already, your legs were trembling as his thumb brushed against your clit. Gasping a little excessively for the camera, you bit your lip, fingers pressing into the stone below you as you felt him lift up the soaked underwear and pull them to the side. 

“Oh love.” He cooed, blowing gently on your sensitive, exposed skin. “You’re so wet. Have I been neglecting my duties as your husband? Not been treatin’ my wife right and leaving her desperate and utterly drenched. You been wet and wanting all day, sweets?” Though you couldn’t see his face, you could hear the smirk in his voice, hear the cockiness as even he knew you were this wet for him naturally. 

Moaning in affirmation, you shook your ass in his face. “God please… need your mouth on me, sir. Need it so badly.” He chuckled, thumb returning to brush against your clit, this time with no fabric in the way. 

“Being so polite, love. You really do want it, huh? My mouth on your pretty pussy? Look at it. So swollen and needy.” Gritting your teeth in impatience, you glanced over your shoulder, meeting his cocky gaze as lips pulled into a smirk. 

“Please, I need your mouth on me. I’m so wet for you. Want your tongue in my cunt.” The smirk faded slightly from his face and his eyes narrowed as he stared up at you for a moment. One finger steadily tapped against your thigh as time seemed to ooze by. Gulping, your brows furrowed, unsure if you’d said something wrong, but then he winked and leaned forward, licking a fat stripe up your slit. 

Breath hitching at the sudden movement, a broken moan left your lips as your eyes fluttered closed. Your body clenched as your hips twitched, angling them slightly to follow John’s tongue. Chuckling darkly, John whispers into your cunt, your own ears barely able to pick up the words. 

“There’s the real you, sweetheart. Gimme more of that.”

The soft whimpering from your mouth just urged him on, his tongue licking broad strokes over your cunt before he slid his fingers between your labia, spreading them to flick the tip of his tongue delicately over your clit. Jumping at the direct stimulation, you tried to pull away from him, but his arm still held firm over your hips. 

“None of that now, love. You’ll take what I give you like my good little plaything, yeah?” 

“Oh fuck…” You whispered under your breath, eyes fluttering as you nodded. Taking that as permission, he dove back in, lavishing your cunt like he was starved. His tongue dragged up the length of your slit before plunging in to taste you deeply, thumb working over your clit. Then, he kissed his way down so his lips could replace his thumb, sealing themselves over the bundle of nerves, sucking and flicking it at the same time. 

The bristles of his facial hair burned the insides of your thighs pleasurably as he buried his face into your wet pussy, nose prodding your hole as his mouth continued to work you over. His hands ran up your legs, caressed the backs of your thighs, and over your ass to spread your cheeks wider, giving him more room to work with. 

“John… oh my god John please!” You buried your face into the crook of your elbow as you moaned pitifully, feeling a genuine orgasm rising much faster than you were expecting. 

“Lift your head up!” The sharp voice of your manager broke you out of the fantasy and propelled you back to the reality of the moment. You were at work, filming. This wasn’t for personal pleasure; it was meant to be marketable for audiences. Lifting your head up, you tipped it back slightly, putting on a face for the camera as you moaned, not that you needed to fake much with the way John was devouring you. 

Snarling at the interruption of your manager, John’s fingers dug tighter into the meat of your ass, tongue swirling around your clit in sharp circles as he groaned, the vibrations running through your body, causing you to press your hips back onto his face.  A guttural noise rumbled in his chest as you did so, and he pulled away. John was panting heavily as he stared at you swollen, wet cunt, eagerly twitching and throbbing for more. 

“You have no idea how fucking good you taste, do you love?” His voice was gruff, lustful as he ran two fingers through your folds once more, spreading them to reveal your cunt so he could spit, and then plunge two fingers into you. Almost immediately, he hooked them expertly, just right to press insistently against that spongy spot inside you as he trailed soft kisses along your inner thighs. His beard was soaked with your juices, leaving the feeling of sticky wetness behind as he returned to your clit. 

Sucking in air, you felt your body beginning to slide over the smooth surface of the bench as your body temperature rose. John’s mouth returned to your sex, teeth gently grazing over the hood of your clit before pressing his tongue against you and sucking. Letting out a high-pitched wail, you felt yourself clenching around his fingers, hips bucking into his mouth as he continued to pleasure you. Unable to find purchase on anything stable, you gripped your own hair, throwing your head back as you moaned loudly, feeling your inevitable climax approaching. 

It wasn’t like you hadn’t orgasmed at work before, but it wasn’t common. And when it had happened, it certainly wasn’t this intense. Heart beating rapidly and your breathing quickened as the tandem effort of his fingers and mouth brought you closer. John could tell too, with the way he kept the same rhythm of his fingers and mouth, letting out muffled groans when he felt your pussy squeeze around his digits. You felt your entire body clenching before spasming, your orgasm rushing through your body as you twitched and jerked uncontrollably. 

“Fuck John… fuck!” You moaned lewdly, remembering to at least roll your eyes back excessively for the sake of the camera, when all you wanted to do was bury your face into your arm as your body shook from the intensity of your climax. 

John had pulled his mouth back, working you through your release with his fingers inside you and his thumb on your clit. Your juices dribbled down his arm and between your legs, puddling on the floor below you as he crooned. 

“Oh, fuck look at you. Fuckin’ squirting for me ‘n all. Good fucking girl. Good fucking girl! Knew you could do it. You’re so fucking hot, love. Wish I coulda seen that pretty face as you came like that.” He pressed soft kisses to your thigh between his sweet, vulgar words, fingers slapping gently over your clit to extend your orgasm for as long as possible before you jerked, the overstimulation settling in. 

Withdrawing and rising to his full height, John flipped you around effortlessly, so you were on your back and tugged you close. He wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled your body up by the back of your neck so he could seal his mouth over yours. Trying to fight the urge to simply go limp, you gripped onto his thick arms, but you could feel yourself sagging. Noticing, John pulled back, resting his forehead on yours. 

“Need a break, sweets?” He whispered, his voice earnest, and you knew he was looking out for you. His grip tightened around you, making sure he was holding you steady as you made up your mind. 

“I think so.” You nodded, sucking in breaths to try and calm your racing heart. “Haven’t cum that hard in a while, sir. I think I’ll need a breather.” He hummed, pressing a reassuring kiss to your cheek before signalling Nikolai over your shoulder. You heard the director yell to cut as John ran his fingers down your arms soothingly. 

“Tell me what you need.”

[stllmnstr]

champagne problems: part one

pairing: jake sim x f reader

genre: enemies to lovers, rich kids au, fake dating au, college au, angst, fluff

part one word count: 15.6k

part one warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, family drama, a fatal case of second son syndrome

soundtrack: boom - dpr live / bad idea! - girl in red / blood on the floor - kuiper / calico - dpr ian / comme de garçons (like the boys) - rina sawayama / lust - chase atlantic

note: another reupload!! hope this hopeless romantic college boyfriend jake hits just as good the second time around. happy reading ♡

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The second son of a wealthy family, Jake Sim has gotten used to always standing in the shadow of his older brother. From grades to girls to talks of becoming future CEO of the Sim Corporation, he’s no stranger to coming in second place. So when an opportunity arises for Jake to finally have the one thing his brother can’t and best him once and for all, he knows he’d be a fool not to take it.

There are only two problems. The first is that the thing his brother wants so badly isn’t a thing at all. It’s you, semi-estranged daughter of the Sims’ closest and most long-standing business partner.

The second is that Jake Sim can’t fucking stand you.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Fingers wrapping around the stem of your wine glass, you sigh. Punctuality may have been a steep order for someone who you suspect is running dangerously low on both common sense and regard for others, but twenty minutes? Really?

Your eyes land on the obnoxiously ornate grandfather clock next to the hostess stand. In a restaurant with ceilings so high you can barely see them and a carefully curated ambience that practically screams old money, it blends right in. It also gives you an updated timeframe on your would-be date’s tardiness. 

Scratch that – thirty minutes. 

Pulling out your phone, the absence of any new notifications is almost as annoying as whatever threadbare excuse you’re sure your date will offer you when he arrives. Glancing at the door, it remains devoid of any new patrons. Or perhaps rather if he arrives. 

You’re running near empty on both pinot noir and patience, and you use the distraction of your phone to make you seem a little less pathetic. As if this entire restaurant isn’t already privy to the fact that you’re actively being stood up. 

Well, you think wryly, at least you look good doing it. The off white ensemble you selected for the evening is Chanel, and vintage, at that. Usually you wouldn’t pull out all the stops like this for something as flimsy as a first date, but men like James Sim have an eye for this kind of thing. 

Four years your senior, he’s already carving out a name for himself at twenty-five. You suppose it is a little less impressive, though, when the name he was born with already carries a legacy of its own in the business world you usually do your very best to stay out of. Rumor has it he’s already a shoo-in for the next CEO of his father’s company. When nepotism is that blatant, you can’t do much but scoff and raise a glass to it. 

Scrambling for something to do to make your wasted time pass a bit quicker, you search up the social media profile of your would-be date. Honestly, you doubt you would learn anything more substantial about him if he actually bothered to show up than you will from scanning over his feed. In your experience, men like that tend to make up for their success on paper by lacking an actual personality and any sort of self-awareness. 

Gym selfie. Scroll. Gym selfie from a slightly different angle. Scroll. Dog photo. Pausing, you suppress a small smile. The dog in the picture is pretty cute, if nothing else. Zooming in slightly, your eyes crinkle at the way the dog’s tongue lolls out of its open mouth in a grin. Well, at least he’s got that going for him, you suppose. A cute dog is enough to bump any guy’s ranking up a few points in your book. 

If James Sim is nothing but a sum of his social media profile, it’s not like you expected anything else. After all, this is the heir to the Sim Corporation, a golden boy that was born with a crown on his head and a gold spoon in his mouth. Everything he’s earned has been laid out for him in painstakingly placed steps. His entire life has been guided by a heavy hand and the knowledge that he would one day inherit everything that makes his family worth knowing. 

You probably wouldn’t be too concerned with showing up to first dates on time, either. Especially since you doubt he’s ever been denied a second. 

Tonight is nothing but a blip on a radar, you’re sure. Something for a secretary to schedule and him to notice a day or five late. Maybe if you’re lucky, someone on his team will send a consolatory bouquet once he does realize the mistake. He is still building his reputation, after all, and you could use a fresh set of flowers for your apartment. 

With another slightly pitiful sigh and a final swig of wine, your glass is empty and your optimism is shot. A second glance at the clock says that thirty-eight minutes have now elapsed since your scheduled meeting time. And in your opinion, that’s thirty-nine too late for a first date. 

Retrieving your coat from the back of your chair, you figure tonight will be remembered as nothing but a waste of a good outfit. Besides, you suppose forty minutes of aimless scrolling is ultimately less painful than the inevitable headache this date surely would have been had he bothered to actually show up. 

Suddenly, you frown. You won’t complain if this date never actually happens, but you may end up with a slight problem. Although you haven’t been on the best of terms with your mother in a long time, tonight was meant to be the final bullet point on a list of favors you owe her. 

As you pull your coat on, you consider the best way to frame the events of the evening. Lean into the whole ‘getting stood up’ thing in an effort to earn some sympathy points? Lay out the facts in their most basic form, timestamps included? Emphasize the fact that you waited long past the obligatory twenty minutes for him to actually show up? Or leave your message chain as it currently is, tell her nothing at all, and let her assume what she wants?

They’re all equally iffy, you think. Risky in their own regard. 

Signing your name at the bottom of the check, you scribble in a generous tip for the waitress who did her best to check on you often without making it obvious that she knew you were expecting company that never arrived, expertly skirting that line between overbearing and empathetic. At least someone will go home happy, you think, adding an extra zero for good measure. 

Exiting the restaurant, you decide to make it two people. James Sim may be a hotshot at his father’s company, but you’ll be damned before you let him ruin your evening. Before you order the Uber back to your place, you add an extra stop at your favorite sushi place. Takeout in the comfort of your own home will certainly be easier to enjoy than whatever Michelin-Star concoction you would have ordered here anyway, eaten in small bites between forced conversation topics, awkward pauses, and too long sips of wine. 

And an hour later, you’re polishing off the last piece of an absolutely divine rainbow roll, wearing nothing but silk pajamas and a face mask, with old reruns of your favorite show playing on the TV when James Sim finally glances down at the Rolex on his wrist. He’s finally arrived at the tail end of a meeting that’s running so far behind schedule he has half a mind to just walk out of it. He would, too, if his father wouldn’t actually threaten his life for it. 

It’s late, James realizes. Stupid late. So late that he won’t have the time or energy to do anything but pass out by the time he gets home, which really sucks, because he was genuinely looking forward to his date tonight–

“Fuck.”

All he can do is curse, even as the shocked faces of a concerning number of top executives turn to look at him all at the same time. 

…

Jake Sim is about to fail his econ midterm. 

It will be at least a week before grades are released, but he already knows it. He can already feel it in the way the questions start to swim in his mind, making less and less sense the more he turns them over, in the way his gut fills with dread as the minute hand of the clock at the front of the lecture hall ticks closer and closer to the testing time limit. 

And it wouldn’t be that bad, if it weren’t his second time repeating this course. 

Oh, his father is going to have an absolute field day with this one. Jake can practically hear it now. 

“You failed your midterm? After already failing this course twice? You know, James was actually the top scoring student in his economic section. Dr. Jeong still mentions his term paper every time I see him at the university…”

And that’s if he’s in a good mood. Or rather, if things at the company are going well. Jake doesn’t even want to consider the comments he’ll be on the receiving end of if the news of his failure finds his father already agitated. 

Exhaling, he gives his exam one final once-over, scanning for completion more than accuracy. His brain is so fried that he knows it’s of little use to him now. For his own sake, the best thing to do at this point is turn his test in and send a silent prayer to whoever might be listening on his way out the door. 

Leaving the lecture hall behind him, Jake puts his phone out of airplane mode and frowns at the two notifications that pop up on his screen. The first is a missed call from his brother, and the second is a message from the same sender, requesting that he give him a call when he has the chance. 

Considering that it’s neither his birthday nor a major holiday, Jake is more than a little confused. Regardless, he honors the request, pressing his phone to his ear as he begins the walk back to his apartment. Although it’s significantly less spacious than his childhood home, he finds it far more welcoming in more ways than one. 

The outgoing call rings once, twice, three times. Jake is about to be annoyed at the missed connection, but his brother answers in the moments just before he’s sent to voicemail.

“Hey, Jake.” Shocking. He actually bothered to check the caller ID. 

“Hey.” Jake’s voice is careful, guarded. It’s not like his personal life is of any importance to his older brother, but he’s not in the mood to answer any questions. He won’t give James any reasons to ask. “I saw your message.”

“Right.” Jake can hear the shuffle of other voices, scattered movements coming from the other line. James sounds busy. Just like always. Usually, that would usually mean he’s distracted. But Jake has the odd feeling that he has his brother’s undivided attention when James adds, “I have a favor to ask you.”

Immediately, Jake’s stomach drops. There are very few things in this world that are not within James Sim’s grasp, and even less that are within Jake’s, relatively speaking. Whatever it is, he must be desperate, if he’s willing to enlist the help of his little brother. 

“Okay.” Jake’s voice betrays none of his sudden anxieties. “What is it?”

At least James spares him the agony of suspense. “You know ___, right?”

Jake frowns. Sure, he knows of you. Just like he has a vague idea of every one of his family’s business partners and their immediate kin. Particularly the ones that are the same age as him and attend the same university. But it’s not like he’s close with you, not like he’s ever had an actual conversation of any substance with you. 

Especially since the minimal interactions the two of you have had did not leave Jake wanting more. The only child of parents whose last name is on the front of the most successful law firm within a thousand mile radius, you strike him as everything he’d expect you to be. 

Spoiled. Entitled. Vapid. Out of touch with any version of reality that doesn’t consist of you getting everything you want at the exact moment you want it. He supposes it’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, considering his own upbringing, but he’d like to think that he’s earned what he’s been given, at least partially. Especially since most of it has been his brother’s hand-me-downs.  And it’s not like his father has ever been in the habit of doing him any favors that don’t come wrapped in criticism, comparison, and disdain.

Although rumor does have it you and your mother haven’t been on speaking terms since you left for university, Jake imagines it’s probably because you wanted to bring the limited edition Versace to campus with you, and she insisted it would be safer at home. 

Oh, well. Whatever designer dispute happened between you and your mother is no skin off his back. Jake has his own problems to worry about. 

One of them being his brother’s question that still lingers on the other line. 

Weighing responses in his head, Jake finally settles on, “I guess.” It’s his best attempt at being noncommittal. 

Unfortunately, it doesn’t do anything to dissuade his brother. “Do you have her number by chance? My secretary should have taken it down, but she can’t find it anywhere.”

Jake balks, footsteps faltering. An equally distracted student walking behind him nearly stumbles right into his back. Wordlessly, Jake sends them an apologetic look before clarifying, “Her number? Like, her personal phone number?”

“What other kind of number is there?” And there’s the James that Jake knows. Annoyed at the perceived incompetencies of his younger brother, just as always. 

Suddenly, Jake’s patience is running short too. James is the one asking for a favor and still has the gall to be annoyed with him. Typical. Jake’s words are clipped when he says, “No, I don’t have ___’s phone number.” 

Jake expects that to be the end of it, but his brother won’t let it go so easily. 

“Seriously? Don’t you two go to the same school?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Right, because I have the entire student body on speed dial.”

There’s a pause on the other end. Jake half expects his brother to just hang up on him. After all, he’s never been able to take what he gets, to swallow what he dishes out. 

What Jake does not expect, however, is the way James sounds so tentative when he speaks again.  “Well…”

“Well what?” Patience already running thin, it’s all he can do not to snap. 

“Do you think you could get it for me?”

Jake must be dreaming. This must be a post-exam punishment, a hallucination brought on by over exerting his brain too far for too long. “Do I think I could get ___’s phone number for you?” he repeats flatly. 

“Is there an echo in here?” Asshole. At least he’s consistent. 

“Just an echo chamber,” Jake mutters away from the receiver. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Jake stops for a moment to fiddle with his keyring as he walks up the stairs to his apartment. “No, I can’t get her phone number for you.” 

“Why not?”

The key won’t line up quite right. Jake tries again, frustration seeping through. “Because I have better things to do than run stupid errands for you. Why don’t you drive here and get it yourself?”

“Trust me, if I thought she’d give it to me, I’d be there in an hour.”

The lock on his door finally clicks open, and Jake all but throws his bag down after kicking off his shoes. “And what the hell makes you think she’d give it to me?”

“Well, you didn’t accidentally stand her up, for one.” James doesn’t sound embarrassed by it. Just matter-of-fact. Like a date is nothing but a business deal. Something to be rescheduled and redone if negotiations go sour the first time around. 

It is enough to stir up some of Jake’s curiosity, though. “You went on a date with ___?” He supposes it makes sense. Even if the rumor mill and its rumblings about your rocky relationship with your mother ring true, you’re still your parents’ daughter. Still a perfect match on paper for the future CEO of the Sim Corporation. The king of a company and princess of a law firm. It’s a match made in heaven, he thinks ruefully. 

“No, I didn’t. That’s kind of the whole point here.”

“Whatever.” Jake still doesn’t see what the hell he has to do with all this. “Why don’t you just look up her parents’ number in the company database and get it from them?”

Jake can practically feel his brother’s exasperation through the phone. “Right, because that would go over really well. Hi there," he imitates. “I’d like to make your daughter the mother of my future children. Care to pass along her phone number so I can get started on that?”

Jake suppresses a wince. “Jesus. I see why she stood you up.”

“She didn’t. I stood her up,” James clarifies. “On accident.”

Semantics. And not ones that Jake is interested in. “Either way. I’m not getting her number for you.”

“Yeah?” Jake is unsettled by the way there’s still no trace of defeat in his brother’s voice. There’s something almost sinister when he suddenly switches topics. “How are classes going?”

Jake’s lips pull into a taut line, disaster of an econ midterm still fresh on his mind. “Fine.”

“Really? Even econ? Third time’s the charm and all that?” Well, at least his brother can be counted on to consistently be an asshole.

“Why do you care?” The only thing Jake wants to do is end this call and crawl into bed for a well-deserved afternoon nap. Let his subconscious spare him from thoughts of his older brother and econ and you for at least a little bit. 

James has other plans. “You must have taken the midterm recently, right?” Jake’s silence is confirmation enough. “You know, the only thing Dr. Jeong weighs more heavily than the midterm is the final paper at the end of the semester.”

A minute ago, Jake thought you were the last thing he wanted to talk about. The sudden shift in direction in this conversation is starting to prove him wrong. If there’s one thing Jake would rather discuss even less than his older brother’s dating life, it’s school. “What does that have to do with a–”

“And I think I still have my copy of the paper that earned me the top score in my entire section.” The smugness is practically palpable. “I might have to do some digging, but I’m sure it’s in my old files somewhere.”

Jake rolls his eyes, wishes the immediate comparison weren’t the first thing to rise to the forefront of his mind. Wishes it didn’t find him so lacking. Wishes it wasn’t narrated in the voice of his disappointed father. “If you’re trying to gloat, it’s n–”

“I’m trying to strike a deal. Jesus, no wonder you’re on track to be a super senior getting a business degree.”

“This is my third year,” Jake defends indignantly. 

“And your third attempt at econ, which I passed in my first year.” He sounds like he’s settling a little too well into the CEO role when he proposes, “I’m trying to make it your last attempt.” 

Jake would be lying if he said his curiosity weren’t piqued, even just slightly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, little brother, that my term paper, my notes, all of it, are yours.” It sounds too good to be true. It has to be too good to be true. James is a lot of things, but generous and helpful are very rarely any of them. “As soon as you get me ___’s number.” And there it is. 

Jake hangs up without bothering to dignify that with a response and hopes it sends a strong enough signal of his refusal. Then, he falls into his bed face-first with a groan. 

And a week later, when his econ midterm results are finally posted, the first thing Jake does is let his head fall on his desk with an alarmingly loud thud that has Jay poking his head in the door to make sure everything’s okay. The second thing he does, a solid twenty minutes later, is send his older brother a text. 

Jake [7:21pm]: You better start digging through those old files. 

…

All things considered, you’re easier to track down than Jake expects. The university campus is big, and judging from the way he can’t remember ever seeing you in a class, the two of you don’t share a major. But the similarities in your social status mean you’re bound to run in some of the same circles, and Jake is able to use this to his advantage. 

Ultimately, it takes very little digging on his part. First, he mentions your name to Jay in the middle of an upper body superset in the university gym. Jay frowns, setting the weights back on the rack. 

“That name sounds familiar. I think maybe Heeseung knows her?”

That tidbit takes him to Wednesday night, which always finds Jake in the library at a statistics study group Heeseung also makes a habit of attending. On their way out for the evening, Jake stops him by the door. 

“___?” Heeseung pauses for a moment in contemplation. “I’m pretty sure she’s friends with Sunghoon.”

And the third piece of the puzzle proves a bit more difficult to click into place. Sunghoon is harder for Jake to find, at least in a way that comes across naturally. Much like yours, Park Sunghoon is a name Jake hears in passing more than anything. He’s a friend of friends, a mutual acquaintance that Jake has never really had a conversation with and certainly doesn’t know well enough to interrogate for your phone number. 

But his most recent midterm score is still looming over his head, and the thought of retaking econ again is so nightmarish it sends a shiver down his spine  every time he considers it. At this point, there isn’t much Jake wouldn’t put on the line to pass the damn class. Including his pride, apparently. 

So when Jake hears from Jay who hears from Heeseung that Sunghoon will probably be at the party Epsilon Nu Eta is throwing this Friday night, he starts to formulate a plan. 

And he starts to regret said plan less than twenty-four hours later when he finds himself on the doorstep of a frat party. A frat party. He can’t remember the last time he came to one of these things. At twenty-one, he already feels geriatric as he tugs self-consciously at the sleeves of the plan black long sleeve he put on for the occasion. Something that will hopefully hide the questionable stains he’ll inevitably leave with. 

Entering through the front door with hinges that don’t align quite right, Jake has one mission in mind: find Park Sunghoon. Find him and somehow convince him to pass along your number. There’s a fine line to be walked there, Jake thinks. If he comes across as too eager, it will just be creepy. Nonchalance is the name of the game, but he’s never been good at keeping his cards close to his chest. 

For Jake, it’s a tall order, which means the only detour he’ll allow himself is grabbing a cup of lukewarm beer from the kitchen before he sets out looking for Sunghoon. The alcohol is an effort to break the barrier of his inhibitions more than anything. To make what he’s about to do feel a little less painful. 

Making his way out of the kitchen, Jake wanders aimlessly for a few minutes. He doesn’t know much about Sunghoon, other than the fact that he competes for your university’s figure skating team and is undeniably handsome. A good-looking figure skater, Jake thinks as he turns down yet another crowded hallway, narrowly avoiding spilling his drink. Where would one of those be hiding? 

He spends a few more awkward minutes asking around to no avail. Just when he’s on the verge of saying fuck it and making some sort of sacrifice to the econ gods instead, Jake bumps into the man of the hour on his way to the bathroom. 

In the chaos, Jake doesn’t recognize him until it’s almost too late. “Hey,” Jake calls out, bladder all but forgotten for now. He’s trying to fake an air of coolness when he adds, “Sunghoon, right?”

“Yeah.” Jake thanks his lucky stars that Sunghoon must be at least two drinks in, because he doesn’t seem weirded out at all by the sudden question from a near stranger. 

“I’m Jake.” He reaches his arm out for a handshake. Blinking, Sunghoon just stares at his outstretched hand as long, awkward moments bleed into each other. Eventually, Jake just lets it fall back to his side. “I’m, uh, in a statistics class with Heeseung.”

“Right on,” Sunghoon nods, still unsure if this conversation has a point to it. Luckily, the pleasant haze clouding his thoughts means he doesn’t mind too much either way. 

Jake figures there’s no point in dragging this out by exchanging more pleasantries, and he has the feeling Sunghoon might start forgetting his own name, much less yours, if he lets this continue for too long. 

“Listen,” Jake starts, trying to sound as not creepy as possible. “I heard that you know ___ pretty well.”

Sunghoon just shrugs. Jake can’t tell if he’s succeeded. “You could say that.”

“I know this is a strange request, but, uh,” Jake scratches the side of his head, “is there any chance I could get her number? I promise not to do anything weird.” Word vomiting, the extra details are spilling out before he can stop them. “It’s not even for me, actually–”

Sunghoon spares him the rest of a rambling explanation. “Sorry, bud. No can do.”

Jake’s stomach tightens in panic. He really, really just needs your phone number. It has him forgetting his earlier inhibitions, throwing caution to the wind even if he’s making a bit of a fool of himself in the process. “It’s for something important, actually. I’m kind of desperate–”

Sunghoon just puts a consolatory hand on Jake’s shoulder, interrupting his train of thought. “Look, man, it’s nothing against you personally, but I have literally never met you in my life. Besides, if I gave out ___’s number to every random guy that asked, I’m pretty sure she’d shave my head.” Sunghoon leans in close, like he’s about to share a secret. Jake’s nose twists at the scent of alcohol on his breath. “And between you and me, I don’t think I could pull off being bald.” 

Jake kind of begs to differ, but that’s neither here nor there. He opens his mouth to plead his case again, but Sunghoon doesn’t even let him get a word out. 

“Sorry, man, but I really can’t help you.” Pausing for a moment, he considers. “You said your name was Jacob, though, right?” He doesn’t pause long enough for Jake to correct him. “I could ask her if she’s cool with giving you her number–”

“Whose number are you giving out?” And if Jake thought this conversation wasn’t enough of a train wreck already, trust the timing of your entrance to be more disastrous than divine. 

Eyes turning to you and your sudden intrusion on the conversation, Jake’s mind goes blank for a minute.  And yeah, he kinda gets why his brother’s so hellbent on having a second chance at your time. Dressed in all black, your hair is loose around your face. Even though it likely costs more than most people’s monthly paycheck, there’s nothing inherently special about what you’re wearing. Still, Jake is finding it exceedingly difficult to look away. 

It’s something in your aura, he thinks. In the way you carry yourself. Something that money can’t buy. Something that makes his gaze want to linger. 

“___!” Sunghoon grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, wobbling slightly. You jostle at the sudden impact, inching away from where the contents of his cup slosh dangerously close to the rim. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you.”

Your brow creases in confusion. Jake tracks the miniscule movement with parted lips. 

“You were?”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon confirms, just at the same moment Jake shakes his head, “No.”

Turning your mildly concerned gaze away from your friend, you glance at Jake for the first time. Brow furrowing further, you cock your head to the side as your lips part in partial recognition. He looks oddly familiar, but you can’t quite place him. “Do I know you?”

“No.” Jake shakes his head again, a little too fervently. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. At least not properly.”

It’s an odd way of putting it. You’re about to ask him to clarify when Sunghoon cuts in, clearing up the confusion for you. “It’s Jacob,” he says, as if that should mean anything to you. Turning back to the boy across from him, he adds, “Jacob Sim, right?”

And that clicks things into place.  

“Sim?” you echo, realization dawning on your features.

“Yep,” Sunghoon confirms. 

Across from you, Jake says nothing. He doesn’t think he could if he wanted to. In fact, he’s pretty sure his life is flashing before his eyes. 

“Sim,” you repeat one final time, jaw ticking in agitation as everything starts to settle. “I do know you.”

“Oh, really?” Sunghoon asks at your side, oblivious to the way your tone betrays obvious animosity. A distaste so palpable Jake can practically feel it radiating off of you. Turning back to Jake, he’s apologetic. “Sorry, Jacob. I guess I could have given you her number, then.” Sunghoon smiles sheepishly, as if he hasn’t just made things a million times worse. “My bad.”

Jake’s eyes widen in horror as he scrambles for some sort of defense, an explanation that will dig him out of this rapidly deepening hole, but you beat him to it. 

“My number?” The look you give him has a concerning amount of venom in it. “Seriously? God, why are all you Sim men so obsessed with me?”

“That’s not–” 

“First your brother views my LinkedIn profile twenty-three times after standing me up, and now you’re harassing my friends for my phone number?”

“Hold on. I’m not harassing anyone–”

“No,” Sunghoon agrees, nodding diplomatically. “Jacob was perfectly pleasant–”

“It’s Jake, actually.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, just Jake.”

“Sorry,” Sunghoon apologizes. Turning to you, he tries mediating again. “Well, like I said, just Jake was perfectly pleasant–”

“I don’t care how pleasant he is.” Your glare somehow becomes icier. “Leave me alone, and tell your dickhead brother to do the same.” Muttering to yourself more than anything, you add, “The last thing I need right now is you practically stalking me–”

“Stalking you?” Jake flounders, an edge of annoyance creeping into his tone. He’s not surprised to learn that you really do think the world revolves around you, but really? Stalking?  “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not like I’m enjoying this interaction any more than you are.”

You don’t back down, crossing your arms over your chest. The movement has Sunghoon teetering dangerously where he leans on you, but you pay him no mind, attention focused solely on the man in front of you. “Then why do you want my phone number so bad?”

“Like I was trying to say earlier when you wouldn’t let me get a word out sideways,” Jake bites, “it’s not for me. I made a deal with someone, and I told them I’d give them your number.”

Your gaze narrows. “Who?”

“What?”

“Who did you make a deal with?”

Jake hesitates, knowing how the truth will sound. Screw it – a lie would likely be just as damning. Still, it takes him another pregnant pause to eventually admit, “... My brother.”

Scoffing in disbelief, you double down on your ire. “Absolutely not.” Shaking Sunghoon off your shoulder, you turn to leave, dragging him with you. Jake’s eyes close; he can’t bear to watch his last chance at passing this semester leave him in the dust.  

So much so that he pleads again, “Wait, ___. Please.” Jake is begging now, and he feels a little pathetic for it. Still, he can’t help the way desperation drives him to continue. “You can block him for all I care. I can’t explain everything, but my life is quite literally in your hands right now. I just need–”

“No.” The single syllable vibrates with finality. “Do I have to spell it for you? N-” you bite, enunciating so sharply Jake thinks you might draw blood. “O. No. I’m not giving my number to you or your flake of  a brother or anyone else that so much as looks like they might have the name Sim.”

God, is the only think Jake can think as he miserably watches your retreating figure, Sunghoon stumbling along  as you drag him with you. I am so fucked. 

…

When Sunghoon finally emerges from your guest bedroom an hour before noon the next day, it’s to ask if you’d be kind enough to spare him some Advil. Even with a bad case of bedhead and the aftermath of overconsumption, he still manages to look good, albeit a little lifeless. 

“I’ll do you one better,” you tell him, but reach for the small white bottle anyway, shaking out a few tablets and offering them to your best friend along with a glass of cold water.

“Bagels and coffee?” Sunghoon asks over the rim of his glass, with a little more alertness in his eyes than there was moments before. 

“Bagels and coffee,” you confirm. A tried and true hangover cure, if there ever was one. And even though your head is feeling nice and clear, thanks to your trusty two drink limit that has yet to fail you, the local cafe a block from your apartment is very rarely something you turn down. 

Thirty minutes later and a change of clothes later, the two of you are trading gossip and stealing bites of each other’s orders when the other person isn’t looking at the table in the back corner of the cafe. Sunghoon is just about to stuff another piece of your bagel in his mouth when he notices yet another notification light up the screen of your phone. 

Sunghoon nods towards where it rests on the table, bagel suddenly forgotten. “Is that your mom again?”

“Yep.” Your lips stretch thin. You don’t even need to glance down at your phone to confirm. She’s been blowing up your notifications all weekend.  “She’s been on my ass about the upcoming fundraiser event for days now. And reminding me about the utmost importance of bringing an appropriate plus-one.”

Across from you, Sunghoon straightens his shoulders. “I suppose it is about time I bust out the trusty old prom suit again.”

You sigh, sending your half-eaten bagel a forlorn glance. “I wish. She told me if I ever bring you again, I lose half my trust fund.”

“What?” Sunghoon looks affronted. “Why?”

You level him with a look. “Does soap ring a bell?”

Sunghoon splutters in indignation. “That was one time,” he defends. “And anyone would have thought those were edible! They were shaped like candies, and they were on a platter–”

“Soap presentation aside, I don’t think that excuse will work on her.” The dejection in your voice is apparent. “Besides, she’s already made it very clear that you’re explicitly forbidden from attending any future family events as my plus-one.”

“Whatever,” Sunghoon grumbles. “Keep all your stupid inedible soaps.” Pausing for a moment, he realizes that still leaves a giant question hanging in the air. “Who are you gonna bring, then? You know, it kind of is too bad your date with Sim number one didn’t pan out.”

You shrug, pointedly ignoring the way your phone screen lights up yet again. It really is a bit of a shame James turned out to be an unreliable flake. One that still hasn’t bothered to apologize to you or even give any sort of indication that he remembered your scheduled date. Still, you can’t think of anyone that would earn your mother’s approval faster. “I’ll probably just fake a stomach flu.” After all, you’re kind of out of options. “I thought about asking Jungwon, but he’s got stuff going on for his internship that night. A big economics conference or something.”

“Speaking of economics,” Sunghoon leans in conspiratorially. “I think I might have some intel on our new friend from last night.”

“How was economics the segue you went with? We were literally just talking about his older brother.” Giving him a look of disbelief, you add, “And what about that interaction gave you the impression that we’re friends?”

“Whatever,” Sunghoon brushes you off before he continues, “Anyway, I heard from Heeseung who heard from Jay that apparently little Sim is hot garbage at economics. Rumor has it he’s already failed the class twice and is on track to do it again.”

You’re not sure why he’s deemed this information relevant to you, but you’d be lying if you said it weren’t a little amusing. 

“Really? Jungwon’s taking it now too, and he said that he sleeps through half the lectures and is still pulling an A.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Well, we can’t all be prodigies.”

Your lips flatten. “Pretty sure you don’t have to be a prodigy to not fail an entry level course three times.”

“Hey, cut him some slack,” Sunghoon argues. “He’s only failed it twice as of now.”

You scoff, entirely uninterested in the gory details of Jake Sim’s academic failures. “Whatever.”

“Either way,” Sunghoon says, “Jay told Heeseung who told me that’s why he’s so desperate for your number.” Confusion makes itself known on your features. You still don’t see the connection until Sunghoon adds, “Apparently he made some sort of deal with his brother that if he gets him your phone number, he’ll help him pass econ.”

A beat of silence passes between you. The barista at the counter calls out a customer’s name. It’s all you can do to not let your jaw physically drop open, mostly because–

“That is probably the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” Glaring at Sunghoon, you can’t believe the theatrics of it all. “How many times have I told you to stop believing everything Heeseung says?”

“Technically, Jay said it,” Sunghoon corrects. “And I don’t know... It kind of makes sense when you think about it.”

You beg to differ. “It absolutely does not. What is this, middle school? Are we passing notes behind the teacher’s back and making our friends ask our crushes if they like us back?” It’s ridiculous. Absolutely, utterly ridiculous. 

There is no way. Absolutely no way that James Sim, heir to a multimillion dollar company, is wasting his time giving his little brother an economics cheat sheet in exchange for your phone number. 

Sunghoon raises his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I just thought you might be curious.”

And you hate to admit it, but you kind of are. Even though every ounce of logic you’ve accumulated in twenty-one years of life tells you that Heeseung is a notorious gossip whose stories are just as much fiction as reality and your best friend is no better. Even though the whole thing makes absolutely no sense at all. 

Even though you repeat it to yourself over and over for the rest of the day, that damn curiosity is still there. Pestering you and disturbing your sleep and leaving you wondering if maybe, just maybe, some things are entirely too ridiculous to be anything but true. 

…

On Wednesday night, Jake and Heeseung are in the middle of a particularly brutal probability set when a sudden shadow looms over their favorite corner table on the third floor of the library. 

Glancing up, Jake finds Heeseung’s gaze already trained somewhere over his shoulder. Jake can’t quite tell if the look on his face is confusion or terror. 

“Mind if I join?” The request comes from behind him, posed in an oddly familiar voice. Heeseung is nodding in agreement before Jake has the chance to so much as turn around and identify the intruder. 

All is revealed soon enough, though, when you slide down into the seat next to him, ignoring the way Heeseung scrambles to move his things and make room for you in the seat next to him. Instead, you busy yourself with setting your bag on the floor and pulling out your laptop. 

It’s all Jake can do to stare at you blankly. This evening, you’ve traded the all black outfit from the other night’s party for something a bit more casual, something comfortable that blends in better to the background of a university library. The sudden proximity also means that the scent of your perfume is quick to waft over towards him. 

Jake does his best to hold his breath before his brain can trick him into thinking he likes it. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” A bold request for someone who just hijacked a study session and sat down with no explanation, but Jake wouldn’t expect anything less from you. 

“Like what?” The words are out before he gives them permission. Across the table, Heeseung is staring too, but all three of you know the command isn’t for him. 

“I don’t know.” Glancing at the battery bar hovering just above empty, you dig around in your bag for a moment for your laptop charger. Jake notes that you still have yet to look at him. Instead, you begin to busy yourself with typing something on your computer. “Just stop it.”

He hopes you can feel the way his eyes burn holes into the side of your head as his blank stare shifts into a glare. 

Heeseung glances between the two of you. His outburst is sudden. “Oh! I just remembered.” He hits his head for good measure. The acting is wasted on this audience, though. Neither of you pay him any mind or even bother to glance in his direction. “I have to go, uh…” he trails off, finishing lamely with a rather flat, “somewhere else.”

“Great.” Your eyes don’t leave your screen, fingers still flying on your keyboard. “See you later.”

As Heeseung scrambles to pack up his unfinished statistics homework and high tail it out of the library, the air that has suddenly become stifling, Jake glances down at where your fingers are still moving. 

Distractedly, he wonders how you can type so fast with nails that long, how you never seem to need the backspace key. How none of the pastel pink that coats your fingernails seems to be so much as chipped. A projection of perfection, he thinks, down to every last detail.  

Moments pass, neither of you saying anything.

You still haven’t looked at him by the time you do eventually break the impasse. “I heard you suck at econ.”

And Jake actually cannot believe you. “Did you seriously hunt me down just to rub it in?”

“Rub it in?” That at least earns him some of your attention, even if it is just a brief, confused glance as your fingers pause in their typing. “It’s not like I’m the reason you can’t pass.”

“Believe it or not, you quite literally are.”

You sigh, removing your hands from your keyboard entirely. Then, before he can blink, you spin your entire body in your chair, eyes, shoulders, and knees all directly trained on him. Jake can’t help the way he flinches back a few inches at the sudden change in pace. 

“Look,” you start. He can already tell by the way you wrap the single syllable sound in patronization that he’s not going to appreciate whatever you’re about to say. “I can tell that you’re not used to, like, having conversations with people, but usually what happens is you give someone enough information so that they know what you’re talking about.” He’s right. 

And he’s quick to defend himself. “Maybe I could, if you’d let me get three words out without interr–”

But you’ve moved on already. “Is the whole ‘deal with your brother’ thing true?”

Jake lets the silence linger for a moment, looking at you in disbelief. “You literally just proved my point.”

You roll your eyes. “I knew what you were going to say, so I sped things along. Now answer my question.” You lay it out for him again. This time, even more directly. “Did you try to get my number because of some deal you made with your brother?”

He’s not sure why it sounds so ridiculous, narrated back to him in your voice. It’s not like it was a brilliant, foolproof plan to begin with, but the way you present it has him feeling about five inches tall. 

“I…”

“It’s a yes or no question.” You really don’t beat around the bush, he thinks. 

“Yes, okay?”

Looking behind you, you suddenly lean in a little closer. It’s all Jake can do not to flinch back again. Bringing your hand up to cup your mouth, it’s like you’re about to divulge a terrible secret when you whisper, “You’re that bad at econ?”

Jake just sighs. “Worse, probably.”

Frowning, you pull back a few inches. “Aren’t you a business major? Isn’t econ, like, pretty important for you?” If he were thinking clearly, Jake might wonder how you know that. But that only thing his mind has space for right now is annoyance. At you, at this exchange, at the way you so easily pick through his flaws and seem to have no problem laying them bare at his feet like he doesn't already know them intimately.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I got any say in my major,” Jake counters. He might have more patience for this conversation if he were having it with anyone but you, if you weren’t throwing his own insecurities back in his face with every follow-up question.

At that, something flickers through your eyes. Sympathy, maybe. “Fair enough.” Whatever it is, it’s gone before he can identify it. And it’s not enough to make you pull your punches. “Still though, that’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Jake doesn’t need the reminder. “Just get a tutor like everyone else.”

The thing is, Jake has thought about it. On more than one occasion. He’s even gotten so far as filling out the university tutor request form. He just could never quite bring himself to complete the ‘Name’ field without all of the potential consequences forcing him to hit backspace. 

He might not be his brother, but he’s not stupid enough to think that his family would ever be okay with the Sim name anywhere near a tutor form. He tells you as much. “And listen to my dad tell me how much of a disappointment I am for not being able to even take a class on my own?” Jake laughs humorlessly. “No thanks.”

A beat passes. Two. You’re not done yet, but you at least have the decency to sound a little apologetic, a little tentative when you say, “Not to kick you while you’re down or anything, but I mean, that has to be better than failing twice.”

Jake just shakes his head. “You don’t know my father.”

You shrug but don’t press the matter further. Truth be told, you don’t know his father, but you do know fathers like him. You have one of your own. The third floor of the library doesn’t seem like the place for that conversation, though, even if you’ve already uncovered more than your fair share of each other’s secrets in the last ten minutes. “I guess not.”

…

Your phone is buzzing far too incessantly for a Saturday morning, much less this early on a Saturday morning. Internally, you curse Friday night you, who forgot to switch it into do not disturb before falling asleep. Face still buried in your pillow, you reach around your nightstand blindly with the intention of remedying that particular mistake and enjoying a few more moments of peace.

Before you can make good on your plan, you make the fatal mistake of reading the message preview before silencing your phone. And suddenly, to your neverending annoyance, you’re wide awake. 

Mom [7:36 am]: Looking forward to seeing you next Saturday at the fundraiser. 

Mom [7:37 am]: I also noticed that you haven’t indicated who you’ll be bringing yet. Please fill out the RSVP form when you have a moment. 

Mom [7:45 am]: James Sim hasn’t RSVP’d yet. Are you bringing him? You should invite him if you haven’t already.

Mom [7:53 am]: I also never heard the update after your date a few weeks ago. Hoping no news is good news. I just spoke with his father the other day, and it sounds like he’s doing great things over at their company. 

Mom [8:01 am]: I also heard that he volunteered a few summers ago rebuilding turtle habitats. Wow! I think you two would get along very well.

Groaning, you flip your phone back over. That about sums up how well she knows her only daughter, you think ruefully. If she thought wooing you with turtles was a good idea, she must have forgotten that you’ve had a lingering phobia of the freaky little reptiles since your friend from elementary school had a pet turtle that bit your finger when you were at her house. 

Besides, you have serious doubts that’s actually how James Sim spent his last summer in university. 

If memories from your social media scrolling serve correctly, rebuilding turtle habitats was code for partying on a yacht for a month straight. You don’t care how he spends his free time, but the way he already has your mother wrapped around his stupid finger is enough to annoy any lingering sleepiness out of your system. 

Whatever. James Sim’s white lies are the least of your concerns now, and they certainly won’t solve your problems. If anything, you’re starting to regret not telling your mother anything about your failed attempt at a first date with him. Now, trying to explain that disaster of an evening would only sound like an excuse at best and a flimsy lie at worst. 

And even if she did believe you, you still have the glaring issue of next Saturday and your lack of a pre-approved plus-one.

With one final groan, you pull your blanket over your face, trying and failing to banish any thoughts of your mother, James Sim, and the certain disaster next weekend will be. 

Despite your best efforts, your worries linger. They follow you into Sunday; they start to make you desperate on Monday. With a diminishing handful of days left until the fundraiser, your anxiety only surges. 

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you’re so stressed out that you can barely force your eyes to focus on the nearly blank Word document in front of you, all of the legalese and case details you can usually sort through in your sleep jumbling into one incomprehensible blob. 

Halfway through your third reread of a paragraph that details the basics of copyright law, it strikes you. The seedling of an idea so utterly ridiculous it just might be your saving grace.  

Your mother probably, definitely, couldn’t care less about James Sim’s so-called affinity for wildlife rescue. No, the only thing that makes him an appropriate candidate in her eyes for this Saturday has nothing to do with his personality at all. 

It’s his name that she likes. His family name specifically. 

In the middle of your favorite cafe, it hits you. The seedling of an idea sprouts roots, begins to bloom. 

If one Sim is good enough to be your plus-one, then surely the other one would be too. 

And you know exactly where he’ll be tonight. Glancing down at the time on your phone, you force your brain to think. Now, all you need is a plan. A way to convince him. Something he can’t refuse.  

Closing the lid of your laptop, you smile. You know exactly what it is he wants. 

Before you leave the cafe, you send a quick message to a friend. Set your plan in place so that the details are polished, irrefutable when you present it to him.

And then you set out for the university library. 

When you find Jake and Heeseung sitting at the same exact table on the third floor of the library, Heeseung doesn’t even bother to stick around for the customary greetings. Instead, he takes one single look at you before offering another flimsy excuse about having somewhere to be. Or maybe something to do. You can’t remember, and it doesn’t really matter. 

After all, the only reason you’re here is because–

“I have a way for you to pass econ.” Sliding into the seat next to Jake, the same one you sat in last time, you don’t waste any time before divulging the reason for your presence. 

If Jake is startled, he doesn’t show it. Statistics homework forgotten on the table, the only thing you see on his face is pure, obvious relief as his shoulders relax. 

“Thank god.” Reaching for his phone, he unlocks it, tapping and swiping until he’s ready to enter a new contact. “Give me your number, and I’ll–”

You shake your head, interrupting his train of thoughts. The way you smile makes him suddenly uneasy. He thought this was over, but now he’s not so sure. You confirm his fears when you say, “A different way.”

Now Jake just looks exasperated. If you keep up this habit, he’s about to start failing statistics too. Never mind the fact that he got his hopes up for what he is sure will turn out to be a giant pile of nothing. Still, he humors you. “What do you mean, a different way?”

“I mean,” you start, folding your hands across your lap. Jake has the distinct impression that you’re trying your best to be as convincing as possible. If nothing else, it does pique his curiosity. He’s never seen you be anything but annoyed or uninterested. It’s an interesting change of pace.“I have a friend who’s also taking econ right now and hasn’t scored below a 98 on a single assignment.” Jesus, Jake thinks. Must be nice. 

And then you drop the bomb on him. “He said he’s more than willing to tutor you. For money, of course.” you specify, moving on so quickly he hardly has the chance to process what you’re saying. “And it’s not like you can’t afford it, but I’ll split the cost with you. For the principle of it all.” There’s a beat of silence as what you’ve just said settles into the air. “Oh,” you add, remembering the most important detail. “And he’ll be discreet. Under the table tutoring, if you will. No chance of word getting back to Daddy Sim.” 

You do your best to give him your most trustworthy smile. Jake just stares back at you, mildly horrified.

When he finally speaks again, it’s to say, “... Please, and I mean this with every single bone in my body, please never refer to my father like that again.”

Not even bothering to look sheepish, the only agreement you offer is a mock salute. 

Your poor taste in nicknames aside, it does seem like a pretty sweet deal from where Jake is sitting. He cannot fail economics again, and getting a tutor would mean that his brother couldn’t hold his success over his head, couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for it. And a discreet tutor would be even better. Not going through the official university system would mean a much lower chance of his father ever finding out he got some help along the way.

All things considered, and very much to his surprise, Jake is having a hard time seeing any downsides. 

He goes through the list again. First, he gets to pass economics. Second, he doesn’t have to deal with his older brother in the process. Third, he gets a tutor that won’t pop up on his father’s radar, and all Jake has to do in return is–

Wait.

“Hold on a minute.” There’s an unmistakable edge of suspicion in Jake’s voice. There’s no way you went out of your way to find him a tutor, to help pay for it, without getting something in return. The wheels in his mind are starting to spin when he asks, “What’s in it for you?”

Next to him, you smile. It’s small, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you almost look nervous. “It’s just a small favor, really.” The expression on your face is not reassuring in the slightest. Still, you insist, “It’ll be easy, I promise. Just a few hours of your time at most.”

Jake knows better than to agree without details. And especially to anything you’re proposing. He’s already preparing to kiss his dreams of passing econ goodbye when he asks slowly,“What is it?”

You sigh, pretenses dropping. If you’re going to convince him now, you might as well do it with honesty. “That annual charity fundraiser event my parents throw. Your parents are usually there, I think. I don’t know if you’ve ever gone?”

Jake shrugs, frowning as he tries to remember. He’s not entirely sure either. After a while, fundraisers and events and family obligations all start to blur together. Although the name does ring a bell, albeit a distant, faint one. 

“Anyway,” you continue, “my mother is insistent that I bring a date. Someone she considers appropriate company. You know, runs in the same circles and comes from what she would consider a good family.” Jake nods. He does know exactly what you mean. Picking up on his agreement, you add with a twinge of hopefulness, “Like I said, it would be easy. Especially for you, since you’re used to this kind of stuff. I wouldn’t have to train you–”

That has Jake rolling his eyes. “Let me guess. I get a treat for rolling over?”

The ice in your glare is half hearted. “You know what I mean. There are certain…” You weigh your words carefully. “expectations at these things.” Pausing for a moment, you add, “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think you’ll eat the soap, even if it’s candy shaped and on a platter.”

If you were trying to clarify your point, you did a terrible job. Jake’s brow pulls downwards in confusion. “Is that supposed to be some kind of metaphor?”

“Unfortunately not.” You shake your head, but don’t explain any further. Sunghoon’s mishaps are not the point of this conversation. A mutually beneficial deal is. Which is why you ask him, “So, what do you say? Are you in or not?”

Is he? Jake says nothing, considering. Mentally, he goes through the list of pros and cons. Pros, he thinks. I get to finally pass econ, and I get to do it without my brother. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, gaze tracking the movement as you nervously bite at your lower lip. Also, I get to show up at an event with the girl he’s been trying to get for weeks now. 

He’d be lying if that didn't spark a certain warm feeling in his chest, if it didn’t inspire a sudden bout of preemptive vindication. But there are other things to consider.

Cons, he continues internally. I have to spend an entire evening at an event hosted by your family and make them believe you don’t annoy the ever-loving shit out of me.

Weighing his options, Jake has one more question. “How long would it be?” he asks, and you try to stifle a grin, as if he’s already told you yes. 

“The event is technically four hours,” you say carefully, “but I’m sure we could manage to sneak out after a solid two and a half.”

Jake nods, thinking it over a moment longer. 

“Okay,” he finally breathes, hoping this isn’t some kind of terrible, elaborate trick, that he isn’t about to sign his life away on a dotted line. 

For econ, he thinks. For what’s left of his struggling GPA. He can manage a single night at a mind-numbingly boring high society function. Even if it’s with you. “I’m in.”

And it feels a bit strange, he has to admit, as he watches you type your contact information into his contact list. It feels odd to have your number in his phone with no intention of passing it on. To know that he’s the one who will be using it to confirm the details of this Saturday. To know that his brother will be none the wiser and not at all closer to having any kind of access to you.  

And if that strange surge of smugness makes another sudden appearance, well, Jake just figures that no one ever has to know about it. 

…

Frowning, you give yourself another once over in the full length mirror that sits next to your vanity. A shimmering, pale gold, the evening gown that flows over your figure was hand-selected by you for this very event. For some reason, you’re having a hard time rediscovering the magic you’d felt trying it on in the showroom here in the soft, ambient light of your bedroom. 

Objectively, you’re sure you must look good. The compliments the store attendants had given you were more than just customary, and gold has always been your color. Still, a slew of sudden uncertainties simmer in your gut. Is the slight sparkle too garish? Does the gold wash you out? Your worries feel too big for your bedroom, at too stark an opposition with the peaceful ambience as soft, instrumental music plays from your speaker.

But this particular Saturday evening has its ways of making you feel jumbled where you’d typically be steadfast. Insecure where you’d usually find confidence.  

It’s true that your mother has always had a critical eye, and especially where you’re concerned. If you were to search deep enough, however, you’d find that she’s not the person you’re most concerned about making a lasting impression on tonight. 

With no small effort, you resist the urge to smooth out invisible wrinkles in the bodice of your dress. A nervous habit more than anything, it’s only exacerbated by the way your phone is still devoid of notifications. The clock on your nightstand is a reminder that your date for the evening should be here any minute, should be sending a message as confirmation of his arrival at your apartment. But your phone is still silent, even as the hour of the fundraiser draws nearer and nearer. 

Maybe this was a terrible mistake, you think, a new bout of uncertainties beginning to brew. It shouldn't be a surprise, really. Trust him to be just as flakey as his brother, with absolutely no regard for previous commitments or anyone else’s time. It’s just your luck that you get stood up again, this time by the other Sim. 

You're in the middle of disguising your fears and distracting yourself by cursing him and his future bloodline when your phone finally pings with an incoming notification. Well, you think, grabbing your coat, feeling a bit ridiculous for the slight overreaction, you’ll have to look into removing generational curses when you have the time.

For now, you settle with pulling on your heels for the evening, ignoring the way you feel a bit wobbly despite the fact that you’ve walked in far worse. Locking your apartment behind you and striking a slightly unsteady pace towards the elevator down the hall, you whisper a silent plea that tonight isn’t as much of a disaster as you’re afraid it could be. 

You watch as the numbers on the elevator screen tick lower and lower, a swirling mix of dread and excitement starting to swim in your stomach. When you finally reach the first floor, you’re surprised to see a familiar face waiting for you in the lobby. Something in you softens, albeit just slightly. You’d incorrectly assumed he would just wait for you in the comfort of his car and spent the whole ride down preparing to awkwardly check license plates in the near dark till you found the right one. 

An overwhelming sense of  self-consciousness returns to you under the brightness of the lobby lights. Unconsciously, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, wondering how long it will take him to notice you as you begin to walk towards him. You’ve only made it a few steps when it strikes you that he’s already distracted by something else. 

Across the lobby, Jake Sim is engaged in a conversation with your doorman. One that looks slightly heated, by your judgment. 

As you get closer, their words become more audible. 

“Like I just told you,” The exasperation in your date’s voice is apparent. “I’m here to see ___.”

And you really should make your presence known, should step in and divert the brewing argument, especially since you seem to be the subject of it. 

But then you look at Jake. Really look at him. 

Realistically, you knew he would come well-dressed. That had been a big part of your reason for choosing him. The Sunghoon soap fiasco aside, you already knew Jake Sim wasn’t someone who needed you to put together a PowerPoint presentation on formal event dress code. He didn’t need you to explain the concept of complementary colors or the advantages of getting a suit tailored. Didn’t need you to explain that Converse were not an appropriate show or that no, a bolo tie is not acceptable attire. 

Up until now, you were grateful for his pre existing knowledge. It saved you a lot of time and effort that you could use to focus on other things, like getting ready yourself. But it also meant that you were entirely unprepared to see him like this. 

Eyes scanning him again, the immaculate fit of his suit is undeniable, as is the way his dark hair is perfectly mussed. It’s styled enough to avoid withering comments from elderly attendees who have the habit of asking how people see with their hair covering their eyes. But it’s also messy in a way that looks intentional, in a way that makes you want to run your fingers through it, tug at it just a little, just to tease. 

It’s not just that he’s dressed well, though, despite the fact that he undeniably is. 

No, what has you freezing in your footsteps is the fact that Jake looks good. 

“And like I just told you, you’re not on her guest list. So I’m sorry, sir.” There is not a single trace of apology in your doorman’s voice. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you up. You’ll have to contact her and ask her to add you to her guest list.” You’re not sure how he manages to do it without losing any professionality, but your doorman makes it very clear that he thinks that will happen just as soon as hell freezes over. 

Jake’s shoulders tense in visible frustration. You have to suppress an actual sigh at the way fabric stretches over the muscle there. “Again, I’m not asking you to. Could you please just let her know that I’m here? She’s not answering her messages–”

“How odd.” The sarcasm is unmistakable. 

Getting a little desperate, Jake ignores the slight and continues anyway. “And we’re on a bit of a time crunch, so–”

From here, you can see the way his features start to twist in panic. It’s sobering enough to snap you out of your trance.

Cutting in, you make your presence known. “It’s okay,” you tell your doorman first. “I know him.” Then, you turn to Jake, putting on an award-worthy performance of false nonchalance when you explain, “Sorry I didn’t respond to your message. I was just on my way down.”

You watch as some of the tension drains from his features. “That’s alright,” Jake concedes easily. “I just wanted to make sure we weren’t late.”

A funny feeling, a new one, stirs again. Something in you softens. “I appreciate that.” 

You can’t help the way you take another look at him. At his suit, his hair, his face. At him, at all of it. 

Mistaking your gaze for scrutiny, he asks, a bit self-consciously, “What do you think? Will your mother approve?”

She will. There’s no doubt in your mind. But you’re not looking at him through her eyes when you tell him, “Yeah, you look good. Really good.”

The last part probably wasn’t necessary, but the way he flushes makes it almost worth it. Casting your eyes downward in an effort to hide a smile, you notice a detail that you missed earlier. 

Jewelry. Gold jewelry. A handful of rings on his fingers and a delicate bracelet on his left wrist.  

Suddenly, his message from last night makes a little more sense.

Jake [9:02 pm]: What color is your dress for tomorrow?

You [9:08 pm]: Gold. Don’t worry about trying to match. A black suit will be just fine. 

Now, you’re grateful he didn’t fully listen to you, touched that he even bothered to ask.  

Across from you, Jake is suddenly having a bit of a hard time breathing. The earlier near-fiasco with your doorman all but forgotten, you’re still admiring his bracelet as his eyes scan the length of you, throat bobbing by the time his gaze makes its way back up to your face. 

“You, uh,” he coughs. “You look nice too.”

“Thank you.” You miss the way his gaze wanders, can’t seem to find a place to land that won’t dust the tops of his cheekbones an even deeper shade of crimson. “I’ve been looking forward to wearing this dress forever.”

And it is a nice dress, Jake thinks, but he’s not sure how to tell you that’s not what he meant. 

Eyes finally landing on your feet, or rather, on the stilettos you’re wearing, he frowns. “I had to park kind of far away.” Meeting your gaze, he adds, “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll pull the car around front.”

“Okay.” Something in you melts a bit at his consideration, at the fact that he even noticed. “Thank you.”

And it is nice, you think, to not be beginning the evening with your feet already sore. To have someone pick up on the little things, even if he’s being compensated for it in the form of half-price tutoring.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you try not to sigh like a lovesick schoolgirl when he opens the door for you, when he puts his hand on the back of your seat as he reverses the car out of its parking spot. Get it together, you think. You’ve turned up your nose at far more obvious attempts at wooing you, and it’s not like Jake is here with you out of his own volition. The thought is surprisingly disappointing, as he adjusts the stereo, soft music filling the silence.

The drive passes like that, in a quiet that’s only uncomfortable if you look at it too close. Eventually, the soft melodies filtering through the stereo become a pleasant sort of background noise as you watch the world blur outside the window. 

It would be smart, probably, to sort out your story for the evening and put together something coherent for when the two of you are inevitably asked invasive questions, but you can’t bring yourself to be the one to disturb the peace. 

So when you arrive at the fundraiser a handful of minutes later, you just have to hope that the image the two of you strike together will be enough to stave off any unwanted questions for the time being. 

Again, Jake opens your car door for you, offers a steadying hand as you step out of it. And when he gives you his arm as you enter through the front door of the venue, you take it, wrapping your fingers around his elbow. Pausing just outside the entrance, you watch as he takes a deep breath.  

“Ready?” You’re not sure if you’re asking him or yourself. 

Jake answers for the both of you. “Let’s do this.”

Walking through the lobby, you hand your jackets to the coat check attendant before entering the ballroom where the fundraiser is held. Despite your general distaste for this evening and everything it entails – you sneak a glance at your partner in crime. Well, mostly everything – you can’t help but admire the space around you.

Decorated immaculately down to every last element, your mother truly doesn’t spare any expense or detail when it comes to throwing parties. And like always, she somehow manages to have a sharp eye on everything and everyone, no matter how chaotic or busy. You’ve hardly taken two steps inside the ballroom when she finds you, approaches you will all the grace of a panther stalking its prey. 

Pulling you in for a quick hug, the warm greeting she gives you is more for the benefit of onlookers than for you. And it forces you to remove your hand from Jake’s arm.

Looking over your shoulder, her voice is sickeningly saccharine. “And this must be James,” she beams, making eye contact with the wrong brother. Directing her attention to him, she gushes, “My daughter has told me wonderful things about you.”

Your eyebrows raise in disbelief. Jake stifles a laugh, expertly turns it into a cough. 

Really? You think. She did all that digging on James’ so-called turtle philanthropy but never bothered to pull up a picture of the guy? And you mean, standard genetic similarities aside, it’s not like the two of them look that much alike.

“Actually, mom,” you spare him the expense of having to correct her mistake, “this is Jake Sim. James’ brother. We go to school together.”

“Oh,” her eyebrows fall at the slip, no doubt an unforgivable social faux pas in her mind. “You never filled out the RSVP form, sweetie,” she somehow makes the term of endearment sound like a curse, “so I wasn’t sure who you’d be bringing.” Trust her to find a way to make her mistake your fault. 

Turning back to your date, she tries to remedy her mistake. “Jake, then.” She offers him a smile so forced you’re surprised her cheeks aren’t aching. Looking back at you, she fishes, “And he’s your…?”

Her dangling bait goes untouched. “He’s my plus-one.” It’s an intentional choice of words on your part. In your mind, it’s a neutral enough term that will hopefully let you navigate the evening without too many rumors or invasive questions about your personal life from people you only speak to out of reluctant obligation.  

Jake is less used to the way your mother tends to poke and prod, the way she likes to examine the superficial details of your life with a microscope and make sure she can frame them in a way that will be pleasing for public perception. The way she doesn’t ask about your love life because it’s of any genuine interest to her, but because she wants sole control of the rumor mill’s production. 

Next to you, he stiffens, feels as though he’s already failed some kind of test he didn’t know he was taking, wasn’t given any materials to study for. 

There’s a lot to be said, probably, about the way you pick up on his discomfort so easily. The way your hand returns to the crook of his elbow wordlessly and gives a single, gentle squeeze. Reassuring him, putting his nerves at ease, as you begin to navigate your way out of this conversation. 

“We’d better find our seats,” you tell your mother. The only reason Jake can identify the icy edge hiding in the superficial sweetness of your voice is because he’s been on the receiving end of it. On multiple occasions. Directed at someone else, he finds it almost amusing. “Wouldn't want to miss anything.”

“Of course,” your mother concedes, but there’s an undertone there. Jake can tell that there’s a war being waged here, battles and skirmishes in subtext and stilted pauses. He’s no stranger to the way high society likes to wrap up insults in niceties and skirt around delicate topics, but his own family has never been anything but blunt when it comes to their distaste for him and his choices. 

He’s still not entirely sure what he just witnessed, but you’re dragging him by his arm to find your assigned table before he can sort through the offending slights and put on armor that may be of any use to you. 

Carefully arranged, the maze of tables is easy enough to navigate. Each seat has a white place card in front of it, embossed with a shimmery golden script that matches your dress and holds the name of the guest who’s been assigned to sit there. 

You drag Jake past a flurry of names and attendees he half recognizes, stopping only to grab two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, handing one to Jake before you continue on your mission. After another minute of searching, you find your name at a table a few rows out from the far wall. Rolling your eyes, you can practically hear your mother’s reasoning: Not too close to the wall. Wouldn’t want people thinking I’m trying to hide her. But certainly not anywhere near the center of the room, in case she falls into that pesky habit of being an awful embarrassment.  

Standing behind your chair, your eyes find the place card stationed in front of the seat next to yours at the same time Jake’s do. 

“Oh my god.” The exasperation is apparent, even though your words are barely audible where you mutter them under your breath. 

Because of course this hasn’t already been enough of a train wreck. Because of course the place card next to yours doesn’t have Jake’s name on it. Nope, embossed in the same shimmery gold is the name of another person entirely. 

James Sim. 

You turn to your date, apologetic. “God, I’m sorry. I really didn’t fill out the RSVP form, but I didn’t think she’d just assume…”

“It’s okay.” Jake gives you some grace. “Really, it wouldn’t be the first time.” And all things considered, he kind of is in his brother’s seat tonight. Attending an event that’s better suited for the future head of the company than his forgotten younger brother. Accompanying the girl that public opinion surely dictates would be a better match for him. 

Still, you frown. Reaching for the small clutch that sits against your hip, you rummage for a moment before pulling out a black permanent marker. 

Jake glances at you sideways.Your bag of the evening is tiny, barely even big enough to hold your phone. He’s surprised you managed to fit the marker in there, much less prioritize it enough to bring it with you. “You carry that thing around with you all the time?”

You shrug. “Never know when you’ll need to do some DIY vandalism.”

It would be a lie if he said something in him doesn’t soften, just a bit, when he watches you reach for the place card in front of his seat and put a giant, bold X over his brother’s name. 

Your handwriting is no match for the computer-generated script, but Jake still likes the place card a little better when you’re done with it, likes the way his name looks next to yours when you set it back on the table, alterations completed. 

“There,” you say, looking entirely too satisfied with your handiwork. “All better.” This time, you slide down into your seat before Jake has the chance to pull it out for you. Turning to him as he tentatively takes the seat next to you, he finds a small frown on your lips. “Wait,” you pause, realization written across your features. “Your brother isn’t coming, right?”

Jake shakes his head. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I doubt it. He has no reason to come. My parents are on a business trip, so they won’t be here either. And that also probably means he’s more swamped than usual at the office.”

Nodding, you take a sip of champagne. “Good.” Pausing, your lips quirk. “Although it would be kind of funny if he–”

“I think you’re in my seat.” The sudden interruption is flat, leaves no room for arguments. 

Startled, the two of you spin in your chairs. 

James Sim, despite his brother’s predictions, is in fact not otherwise occupied at his office. Instead, he stands directly behind his younger sibling, strikes an imposing figure where his shadow blocks the chandelier light behind him and extends over his brother and his altered place card. 

Eyes flaming, he looks at where his name has been crossed out. Replaced. 

Next to Jake, you remain silent, figure that you’ll let Jake handle this one the way he let you handle your mother. Far be it from you to step in on a family matter.

But then you notice the way Jake shrinks a little in his seat, hides a little further in his brother’s shadow. Reaches for the place card like he wishes he could take it back.

Sliding your gaze back to your least favorite Sim sibling, your voice is even, albeit icy, when you point out the obvious, “It’s not actually. Can’t you read?” Jake’s hand stops in its tracks, falls back to his lap.

A quick look your way is the only indication James even hears you. Instead, he continues his one-sided conversation with his brother, a barely controlled sort of fury crossing over his expression. “Hm,” he muses, glancing between the two of you. “Sure seems like you two are awfully close.” Casting an accusatory glare at Jake, he adds, “That’s funny. I could have sworn you said you barely knew her.”

Her. You’re sitting right there, and you don’t even get a name. 

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Jake either. And it turns out to be just what he needs to find his voice. You’re almost proud of the sarcasm he manages to muster when he counters, “Yeah, well, this funny thing happens when you spend time together. You actually get to know each other.” Straightening his spine, there’s an unmistakable edge in his voice when he adds, “You know, when you actually bother to show up, that is.”

You hide a laugh behind your hand, albeit not very well. Glancing at Jake, a feeling swells in your chest that you can only identify as pride. You didn’t know he had it in him. 

Reassessing his strategy, James turns to you, forcing a nonchalance that is entirely contradicted by the way his cheeks are rapidly reddening. “Actually, ___,” he tries, acting as if the last thirty seconds faded out of existence at his will. “I was hoping to speak to you about something. I’d love to get you a drink if you–”

“Actually,” Jake cuts in, doubling down. “We already have drinks.” Behind you on the table, the two near full glasses of champagne are undeniable evidence. The laugh that spills out of you this time is impossible to hide. Yeah, you decide, between the two of them, you definitely hate James more. Entirely amused, the only thing you wish you had is a bowl of popcorn as you root for the underdog. Not that he needs it. Much to your satisfaction, he’s been landing his punches well. 

The giggle dies on your lips, though, when you feel the warmth of another hand suddenly cover the top of yours where it rests on your thigh. Gaze flaming, James follows the movement. Startled, your eyes fly to Jake. The only view you’re offered is of his profile as he keeps his gaze trained on his brother, the challenge in his features unmistakable. 

The only consolation he offers for your sudden shock is a small, reassuring squeeze against your knuckles. 

And then he says, “And I’d like to keep my girlfriend right here, actually.” At that, he does finally turn to you, eyes pleading, gaze imploring when he seeks your permission. Even though they’re performative in nature, his words aren’t solely for James’ benefit. “If that’s alright with you, that is.”

Girlfriend.

You were perfectly happy in the role of the observer, but now Jake has dragged you into the spotlight. Even though it pains you, you know you can’t leave him hanging. Not when that would mean a sure victory for his dickhead of a brother. 

Girlfriend. The word echoes in your head, has you feeling dizzy.

“Of course,” you return hollowly, barely recognizing the sound of your own voice over the sudden rushing in your ears. “Boyfriend.”

When you smile at him, you make sure it looks sickeningly sweet enough to deter James. Your eyes, however, flash with a warning only Jake can read. 

“You’re dating?” James can’t hide his shock, and his outrage is just as obvious. 

“Yep,” Jake passes you a panicked look. But you don’t need it, don’t need his convincing. You’ve already dug yourself a deep enough hole. Trying to climb out now would only mean everything crumbles. 

“Sure are,” you confirm with a tight smile. Turning back to Jake, you add, “Actually, sweetie, I need to talk to you about, uh…” you scramble for a moment. Finish vaguely with, “that thing.” 

“Right.” Jake picks up on the threat in your eyes seamlessly, knows there’s only one acceptable response. “That thing,” he echoes. 

“Yeah, so,” you turn back to James, barely acknowledging him as you start to stand. “We’re gonna step out for a minute.”

Jake is all but putty in your hands as you switch the positioning of your grip so that the hand that was resting on yours is now encased firmly between your fingers. 

“See you later,” are Jake’s breathless parting words to his brother. 

“Hopefully not, though,” you alter. 

And then you’re dragging him back through the crowd towards the exit, and it’s all Jake can do to not run into the other guests or knock over the delicately balanced trays of hors d’oeuvres waiters carry throughout the room. He’s at your mercy all the way through the double doors of the ballroom, and you pause only briefly to determine which hallway is less likely to have people in it before deciding on the one to the right, towing him along behind you.

Once you’re far enough away from unwanted eyes and ears, you start wiggling every door knob you come across, growing visibly more frustrated until you finally find an unlocked one. Huffing, you push Jake into the spare storage closet first. Following him in, you close the door behind you. 

The sudden change in space puts you in close proximity. Your nose is only a handful of inches away from his when you start laying out accusations. 

“What the hell?” With the same hand than just dragged him on a half marathon, you shove at his chest. “Boyfriend?” You have half a mind to grab the broom standing next to you and start whacking him with it. 

“I’m sorry!” Jake holds his hands up defensively. He doesn’t miss the way you’re eyeing every cleaning tool around you, no doubt deciding which would make the most effective weapon. “I panicked, okay? I just hate that smug little look he gets on his face–”

“Well you’re about to be seeing ‘that smug little look’ a lot more once he calls your bluff!” you half-shout, trying to convey your anger without alerting anyone to your presence.“The timeline barely lines up to begin with. It’s only been what, a few weeks since I was supposed to go on a date with him? And that’s not to mention the fact that there won’t be anyone to corroborate our story, because we don’t spend any time together, since, y’know, we’re not dating.”

Jake begs to differ. You’ve invaded more than one of his Wednesday night statistics study sessions. 

But before he can point this out, you’re continuing. “Which means you’re gonna have to come up with some sort of believable explanation for why we break up after, like, three days.”

“Ugh.” Jake drags an open palm down his face. He hates to admit it, but you do have a point there. 

Fingers running through his hair, his sudden stress is apparent. And you’re not trying to send him to an early grave, but would it have killed him to think before he spoke? Consider the consequences of starting the exact kind of rumor you’ve been hoping to dodge all evening? You get that his brother is not exactly an easy person to get along with, but was the short-lived victory really worth the potential fallout? 

Across from you, Jake seems to be having the same realizations. A million thoughts whirring through his brain, he’s not sure where to place his focus. 

After a moment, he settles on optimism. “Look, I think it will be fine.” The more he thinks about it, the more he convinces himself he believes it. “James has been up to his ass in company stuff since the second he graduated, so it’s not like he has extra time to check up on us or anything.” And even if he did, James would have no way of knowing who to ask. Jake has the sneaking suspicion his older brother couldn’t name a single one of his friends if his life depended on it. He would have no idea who to track down to corroborate your so-called romance. 

“We won’t have to do anything,” Jake reasons. “I’ll just mention you in passing for the next few weeks if he happens to ask.” Even that should be simple enough. After all, Jake seriously doubts he will. “And by the time the holidays roll around, I can just say things fizzled naturally.” Easy. Simple. Uncomplicated. Mutual, and your pride and his both remain intact. “No big deal.” 

Across from him, you weigh his words. It makes sense, yes, but there’s something starting to swirl in your gut that you don’t like. It feels a little too much like dread, like trepidation. Jake can read all of the uncertainty written across your face when you tell him, “I still don’t like it. My mother and your brother were both here tonight and already got different stories from us. This could get messy really quickly. I mean, what if our families start talking–”

“They won’t.” Jake shakes his head. “Your mom thinks I’m just a plus-one, and when my name comes up in James and my father’s conversations, it isn’t to discuss the ins and outs of my dating life.” Of this, at least, Jake is sure. His father couldn’t care less who he dates, as long as it’s not a liability to him, to the company. “Besides, we're university students.” Jake tries to lighten the mood, clear some of the tension. “Twenty-one and immature and all that.” For a moment, Jake imagines what life would feel like if that’s truly all he was, if that’s the only thing he got to be. No added pressure of a notorious last name and a reputation to maintain. Tucking that thought to the back of his mind, he decides he’ll mourn it later. “A short-lived relationship with a story that doesn’t quite add up is practically a right of passage. Not something to be suspicious of.” 

You remain silent for a moment, but your hand doesn’t get any closer to the broom.

“Okay.” Some of the tension seeps out of your shoulders as you turn his reasoning over in your brain, nodding as his logic starts to piece together. “Okay,” you reiterate. You still don’t like it, but he’s right about one thing: it is the best option you have. 

After all, there’s no way in hell you’re about to go tell your mother that your plus-one is actually your secret boyfriend, and you hate to admit it, but James’ little smirk is incredibly agitating. And it will all blow over, you’re sure. Like Jake said, James and your mother have no real reason to talk, and if Jake is convinced that his brother won’t be spreading this particular rumor, you’ll just have to believe him for the time being. 

Letting him out of the closet first, you only imitate hitting him upside the back of the head once before you catch up to him, linking arms again before reentering the ballroom. 

As the evening goes on, your worry starts to subside. Thankfully, every other part of the night goes perfectly to plan, even if you do have to force yourself to laugh a little too hard at one of Jake’s awful jokes when you catch James watching the two of you. The second glass of champagne you down helps, if nothing else. 

Exactly as you predicted, after two and a half hours have passed, you and Jake are sneaking out the back exit, tiptoeing to his car as the fourth speaker of the evening continues their droning speech inside the event. Your mother is none the wiser to your early departure, and you hope it’s the first in a series of victories for the evening. 

When Jake drops you off just outside the front doors of your apartment building, his smile is almost reassuring enough to put that lingering sense of unease to rest where it still sits in your gut. 

Makeup removed, hair washed, and evening gown traded for pajamas, sleep is slow to find you a handful of hours later. Eventually, though, it does, and your rest is undisturbed, dreamless. 

…

The next morning, with nothing but the pastel tones of sunrise and the sound of his brewing coffee maker to keep him company, Jake Sim stares at the message on his phone in abject horror. 

Mom [7:32 am]: I can’t believe I had to find out from your brother! Family dinner next weekend at our place. Bring your girlfriend. :) 

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

PART TWO IS UP AND LINKED ON MY MASTERLIST!

note: thank you for reading!! this is the version I had saved in my docs and it should be identical to what was posted before but in case there are any slight differences, that's why. I also sometimes make the fatal mistake of doing small grammatical edits in tumblr itself, so please excuse any minor errors as I didn't do a read through this time around. as always, I love to hear any thoughts you may have!

[girlkisser13]

going on your first date with the tvdu men would include

damon salvatore

• damon would likely choose a secluded and romantic location, perhaps the mystic grill for a drink, followed by a surprise trip to a hidden spot in the woods or a beautiful clearing with a view of the stars.

• he would pick you up in his blue convertible, making the journey to your date part of the experience, complete with playful banter and a perfectly curated playlist.

• expect witty and flirty conversation. we all know damon LOVES to tease, but he’d also be surprisingly attentive, showing genuine interest in getting to know you better.

• he’d most likely choose your drink for you, something you’d end up loving, showcasing his impeccable taste. if the date involves food, he’d make sure it’s something special, perhaps even cooking for you at his house.

• if the moment felt right, damon will suggest dancing. whether it’s a slow dance in the woods under the stars or a playful dance at the grill, he’d make it unforgettable.

• at the end of the date, damon would walk you to your door. his goodbye would be lingering, leaving you eager for the next time you see him. he’d probably leave you with a teasing comment or a promise of more to come.

elijah mikaelson

• elijah would choose an elegant and sophisticated location, a high-end restaurant with a stunning view or a private, luxurious setting that exudes old school harm.

• he’d OBVIOUSLY show up dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, reflecting his refined and timeless style. every detail of his appearance would be perfect, from his cufflinks to his neatly styled hair.

• elijah would send a classic car to pick you up, or he would arrive himself, ready to escort you to your date with utmost courtesy.

• elijah would be genuinely interested in your thoughts, opinions, and experiences. he’d share fascinating stories from his centuries-long life, offering glimpses into his past while keeping an air of mystery.

• elijah is the epitome of a gentleman. he’d hold doors open for you, help you with your coat, and ensure you feel cherished and respected throughout the evening.

• he would bring you a thoughtful gift, such as a bouquet of rare flowers or a book that he thinks you’d love, showing his attention to detail and consideration.

• elijah would choose the finest cuisine and wine, making sure everything is of the highest quality. he’d ensure the meal is a culinary experience, with each course carefully selected to delight your palate.

• he would engage you in conversations about art, history, literature, and culture, revealing his vast knowledge and passion for these subjects.

• while elijah is a perfect gentleman, there’s always an underlying sense of his power and ability to protect you. you’d feel safe and secure in his presence, knowing he’d go to great lengths to ensure your well-being.

• at the end of the date, elijah would walk you to your door, ensuring you’re safely home. his goodbye would be tender and sincere, perhaps with a gentle kiss on your hand or a soft brush of his lips against your cheek, leaving you enchanted and eager for the next time you meet.

kol mikaelson

• kol would choose a fun and unpredictable location for your date. this could range from a vibrant bar in the french quarter, to a late-night carnival, or even a spontaneous adventure like breaking into an abandoned mansion for some exploring.

• kol would either show up in a flashy car or decide to take you for a walk through the lively streets of new orleans, there’s no in between.

• kol is all about living in the moment. he might suggest impromptu activities, like dancing in the street to a nearby musician’s tunes or trying some exotic food from a street vendor.

• there’s always a touch of mischief with kol. he might pull a harmless prank or engage in a bit of friendly competition, such as challenging you to a game of pool or darts at a local bar.

• kol wouldn’t hide his vampire nature; instead, he’d use it to impress you. he’d show off his speed, strength, and compel the bartender to give you both free drinks.

• the date would be filled with energy and excitement. kol’s enthusiasm is contagious, and he’d ensure you’re constantly entertained and engaged, never a dull moment.

• at the end of the date, kol would walk you home, making sure you’re safely inside. his goodbye would be flirty and full of promise, perhaps with a lingering kiss or a playful comment about your next adventure together.

jeremy gilbert

• jeremy would choose a casual and comfortable location, like a cozy café, a local diner, or a peaceful spot by the lake for a picnic.

• jeremy is a good listener and would be interested in learning about your passions, dreams, and experiences.

• jeremy would suggest doing something fun and interactive, like visiting an arcade, going for a hike, or even attending a local concert. he’d want to create a memorable experience that’s enjoyable for both of you.

• jeremy’s an artist so he might even take you to a local art gallery, or he could even bring his sketchbook and show you some of his sketches (they’re honestly probably all sketches of you).

• jeremy would choose a place with good, hearty food— nothing too fancy, but something that feels comforting and satisfying. if you’re having a picnic, he’d pack a basket with some of his favorite snacks and drinks.

• he also loves being outdoors, so he might take you to a beautiful, secluded spot in nature.

• at the end of the date, jeremy would walk you to your door and make sure you’re safely inside. his goodbye would be sweet and sincere, leaving you feeling cared for and excited for the next time you see him.

malachai "kai" parker

• kai would choose an unconventional and adventurous location. this could range from exploring an old, abandoned building to a spontaneous road trip to a nearby town. he loves to keep things exciting and unpredictable.

• there’s always a sense of mischief with kai. he would definitely suggest something dangerous or illegal, like sneaking into a restricted area or trying out a thrilling activity. he enjoys pushing boundaries and seeing how far you’re willing to go.

• kai wouldn’t shy away from using his magic. he might perform small, impressive spells to amuse you or use his powers to enhance the date, like creating a magical light show or conjuring up something special.

• kai would take you to a unique, offbeat restaurant or café, somewhere with a cool vibe and interesting menu. he’d make sure the experience is memorable and out of the ordinary.

• at the end of the date, kai would walk you to your door with a mix of playful charm and genuine interest. his goodbye would be intriguing and magnetic, perhaps with a lingering touch or a cryptic comment that leaves you wanting more.

niklaus "klaus" mikaelson

• klaus would choose a sophisticated and exclusive location, like a private rooftop dinner with a stunning view of the city, a hidden garden, or a historic site. he loves grandeur and would want to impress you with a memorable setting.

• klaus would pick you up in a luxurious car, ensuring you travel in comfort and style. the journey would be smooth and filled with engaging conversation, making you feel at ease and intrigued.

• klaus is well-read and knowledgeable, and he’d be genuinely interested in your thoughts and experiences. he’d share fascinating stories from his long life, providing glimpses into his complex personality.

• klaus is a master of romantic gestures. he’d bring you a bouquet of rare flowers, arrange for a talented musician to play a private concert, or surprise you with a beautifully handwritten note expressing his admiration.

• klaus has a deep appreciation for art and culture. he might take you to an art gallery, a classical music concert, or even show you some of his own artwork. he’d love to share his passions with you and see your reactions.

• klaus has a penetrating gaze that can make you feel like the only person in the world. throughout the date, he’d often lock eyes with you, never looking away until you do.

• his protective nature would be evident. he’d ensure you feel safe and cared for at all times, subtly asserting his strength and willingness to defend you if needed.

• klaus is a gentleman at heart. he’d open doors for you, pull out your chair, and be attentive to your needs, ensuring you feel respected and cherished.

• at the end of the date, klaus would walk you to your door. his goodbye would be lingering and filled with promise, perhaps with a gentle kiss on your hand or a soft brush of his lips against yours, leaving you yearning for more.

stefan salvatore

• stefan would choose a charming, low-key location for your first date. this might be a quaint café, a scenic park, or a cozy restaurant with a relaxed atmosphere where you can talk and connect.

• he’d pick you up in his car, making sure the ride is pleasant and comfortable. he might even play a soft playlist to set a relaxed mood.

• stefan is thoughtful and would likely bring a small, meaningful gift, like a single flower or a favorite book he thinks you’d enjoy. he values the little things that show he’s paying attention.

• stefan would plan a thoughtful activity, such as a stroll through a picturesque park, a visit to a local art exhibit, or a casual outing to a farmers' market, where you can explore and talk.

• he’d pay close attention to your preferences and needs, ensuring you’re comfortable and having a good time. if you mention a favorite food or drink, he’d remember and include it in the date.

• stefan’s demeanor is kind and respectful. he’d open doors for you, offer his arm while walking, and be attentive without being overwhelming, showing his genuine respect and care.

• rather than grand gestures, stefan plan a quiet moment to watch the sunset together or find a peaceful spot where you can talk privately.

• at the end of the date, stefan would walk you to your doorstep. his goodbye would be heartfelt, leaving you with a feeling of warmth and anticipation for the next time you see him.

[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART I

Bangchan x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist

Synopsis: You and Chan become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (15,7k words)

Author's note: Pls send my birthday wishes to your boyfriend. As always, enjoy and feel free to vent in my inbox :)

CHRIS: Nah, I wouldn't say I'm a playboy [shyly laughs] My best feature? My body [Shows off abs] I'm joking, [laughs] it's my dimples [smiles] I don't have a type. Looks are relative but there has to be a strong physical attraction [Smiles]

-

In this sunny weather, it wouldn't take long for Chan to get some color on his pale skin.

A little tan will help to make his sculpted abs more defined, especially on camera. He's been working out diligently to present his best look for this show.

Lust Island.

What possibly could this show be about? If he should draw any clues from the name of the show itself, he guesses there'll be physical contact involved in a pleasurable way.

The real reason he joined the show is not solely that he wants to get some action. He can get them anytime, anywhere when he wants to.

Bangchan wants to put himself out there and explore things outside of producing music. He wants to push himself out of his comfort zone. By comfort zone, he means his studio.

Once Bangchan puts his swimming trunks on though, he prepares himself, mentally and physically as his name gets called. It's his turn to enter the villa.

When he thinks about it again, it's not the first time he gets to be filmed, and being in front of the camera, there's no use for him to be nervous.

Bangchan laughs at his cowardly thought and puts on a perfect posture, standing straight and broadening his shoulders that are as wide as the Pacific Ocean.

Bangchan is right to be confident about himself because the girls like what they see when he walks in.

There are four of them waiting by the standing table with bottles of champagne in buckets of ice.

The other male guests are no competition to him, a few inches of height difference is nothing when he's confident with his looks.

He goes to introduce himself, giving side hugs to the male and a kiss on the cheek to the female guests. He does his trick to leave a lasting impression by holding their hands and looking them in the eyes as he says his name.

"You can call me Chris," he says with a smile.

She flutters her eyelids at him, a way to get his attention, and says her name, "I'm Lola!"

Lola is a gorgeous, dark-haired girl who speaks like she's half moaning, some men dig it but Chan, not really.

Chan turns to the other female guest and does the same, "Chris," he shortly introduces himself.

"Jane," she introduces back with a thick British accent and it's good to know that he's not the only one who owns pale skin.

"Love the accent," she says with a smile that showcases her perfect white teeth.

"Likewise," he immediately replies and grabs himself a glass of wine.

-

CHRIS: This is the first I have been surrounded by this many beautiful people in one place.

-

To say that he's not the slightest bit attracted would be a lie.

But there are only two of them for now and there'll be more to come, hopefully, there'll be one that attracts him. For now, there's not enough attraction.

However, Lola is refilling his glass without him asking and checking him up and down, doing it not so subtly only tells him that she's attracted to him.

"Thank you," he mutters and has a toast with her.

Two more female guests are entering the villa, one is a stunning blonde with dazzling blue eyes and the other is a tall goddess with golden skin.

The boys are howling in excitement as the selection has expanded. Chan, trapped in the corner with Lola, waves his hand at them.

The blond girl approaches her to hug him, "I'm Dani."

"Chris," he introduces with a smile.

"Australian, huh?" She guesses.

"Guilty!" He says, "What about you?"

"I'm Spanish," she answers which explains the sheer accent in her English, and proceeds to say something in her native language to him.

Once again, Chan doesn't have a type but hearing Dani speak in Spanish does something to him.

"You have no idea what I'm saying, right?" She asks with a flirtatious smile.

"Not at all," he honestly answers and bursts into laughter.

-

CHRIS: Dani is undeniably gorgeous and so is Alicia, so is Lola, so is Jane... [chuckles]

-

Another two male guests enter and one of them is sucking all of the female's attention with a nice body, nice teeth, and a height that Chan doesn't have. But he wouldn't let it belittle him. Physical appearance is nothing without skill and Chan has both.

Everyone is waiting for the last guest to arrive and his glass is magically full again, he turns to the side to see Lola smiling at her.

Chan takes the bottle from her to refill her glass for her, he gets interrupted by the loud cheer of everyone welcoming the last guest into the villa.

"Hi, you sexy bunch!" You greet.

The guy standing next to him, who he believes his name is Iain, puts his hand on his shoulder and gushes at the sight of you, "Man, she's so hot!"

Chan agrees with him. He notices the confident strides and a scintillating smile, he likes seeing those things on a girl.

You start going around, introducing yourself with a cheek-to-cheek kiss at the end of the introduction. When it gets to his turn, Chan is already prepared to impress you.

You lean in close as you ask his name, "Hi, what's your name?"

Chan is gobsmacked by the strong eye contact you're making with him, making him lose his train of thought for a while.

"Chris," he answers.

You let out a soft laugh and lean in closer, "Sorry, can you tell me again?"

He understands that you can't really hear him with everyone chatting to each other all at once mixed with the sound of the waves crashing in the background.

It comes to his advantage to lean in close to your ear and tell him his name, "It's Chris."

"Nice to meet you, Chris!" You say but instead of a cheek-to-cheek kiss, you put your hand around his neck and pull him for a quick hug.

The hug only lasts for a few seconds but he's happy with what he got. He agrees that physical appearance doesn't matter much but your body, oh... it's enough to send his mind wanders so far off from his head.

"Gorgeous!" He calmly beams, it sounds strange because it doesn't match the excitement he has when he looks at you.

Chan doesn't want to come on strong on the first meeting, he knows that he has a lot of time to get to know you and vice versa.

"Thank you," you mutter with a smile.

-

CHRIS: Bright eyes, cute smile... I think I finally found my type. [Grins]

-

Chan hurriedly grabs the bottle of champagne the second he sees you grab a glass. He delightfully fills your glass with the bubbly wine.

"What a gentleman!" You exclaim with a smile.

He fills the glass just right to not overflow it, "The bar is that low, huh?"

You lift the glass but not taking a sip yet, "I usually go for the bad boys," you share.

Chan is aware that he doesn't have the typical look of a bad guy, that would be Jace with his sleeve tattoos and pierced eyebrow. He feels the need to show you that sometimes what's inside doesn't match with the exterior.

He fiercely looks at you and refills his glass next, "I don't look like one?"

You seem to hesitate to give him an honest answer, "Oh, well..."

Chan tips his head to the side and holds intense eye contact with you, "I can be bad if I want to."

"Yeah?" You say with a tone that sounds a little condescending to him.

That only motivates him to prove you wrong but he keeps his calm and shrugs in response.

You bring your glass close to your mouth and ask, "How bad?"

He grins and runs his tongue along the front row of his teeth, he takes a sip of his wine to make you wait for an answer.

"Why don't you find out?" He dares you with a sly smile.

One corner of your mouth raises higher than the other, forming a killer smirk on your face. You clink your glass with him and say, "Can't wait to find out!"

-

CHRIS: The eyes, Gosh! There was so much eye contact, it feels like a foreplay already [laughs]

-

Chan has no clue how the show is going to play out.

Is everyone going to mingle with each other and be free to do whatever they want for the next 30 days? It's possible because everyone is of age and signed the same contracts but he doubts it'll be that easy. It's a TV show, there's always a catch.

The day continues with a tour around the villa, everyone has seen the swimming pools and the small workout area down the beach so it's time to check inside.

Weirdly, everyone is excited about sharing the bedroom, probably because there are five beds and there are ten of them which means, everyone has to find a bed partner.

Chan's eyes dart at you who's sitting on the other bed with Luke, leaning back with your elbows propped against the mattress.

"Oh, it’s nice and quiet," Luke says, testing the bed by rocking it.

You're laughing as your hands fly to your chest, stopping your breasts from bouncing along with the bed.

While everyone else is joining in on the waves of laughter, Chan is busy assessing who else has their eyes on you. Iain is an easy guess but you'll go for someone like Jace, so he has to keep an eye on him too.

-

CHRIS: My eyes are set on a girl and uh... it's hard not to look at her so I refuse– [laughs] I refuse to share a bed with anyone else but her.

-

The boys are gathered on the beach and Chan doesn't know for what reason. He sits on the wooden bench next to Pierre with his blonde hair shining under the bright sun.

"Okay, let's cut the chit-chat!" Jace says.

His tattoed index finger is pointing at Luke, "You go first. Who's your number one?"

"Dani. Absolutely, Dani," Luke answers without a beat, and that only shows how keen he is to win her.

It's an open war, Chan reckons but it's good to know who he's up against so he can set a strategy and try to win.

It's Iain's turn and he simply answers, "Dani!"

So that means Chan's guess is incorrect yet it doubts him if Iain has no interest in you.

Sitting next to him, Pierre answers, "Alicia!"

Pierre then uneasily glances at Luke as he also chooses the same girl with him, "But also, Dani."

Luke scoffs at him and says, "She's cute, I know."

"Please, stop glaring at me!" Pierre jokingly says.

So far, there are three votes for Dani and that's not a surprise, she's one hell of an attractive girl, it just happens that she's not quite caught his attention like you do.

Pierre nudges Chan with his elbow, "Your turn, Chris!"

Chan confidently announces your name as his first choice and says it with a tint of possessiveness as if you were already his. He wants to let them know that he's going for what he wants and no one is going to get in between.

"What do you guys think of Lola?" Jace asks with a shit-eating grin.

Despite the tattoos that cover most of his back and chest, Jace is grinning as he asks everyone about his choice of girl.

"Lola is... Lola is cute," Chan says while rubbing his hands together in front of him.

Pierre agrees with him and nods, "Yeah, she's cute."

"I like Lola," Jace coyly admits.

Jace claps his hands together and points at the three men who are going for the same girl, "I see we have three men in a competition for Dani," he says.

Luke half-heartedly agrees, "The three of us are different so..."

It's a relief that Chan doesn't have any competition or that's what it seems, but he gets curious about the three men.

"Are you guys comfortable stepping on each other's toes?" He asks in pure curiosity.

"As long as Pierre doesn't step on me," Iain chimes in with a laugh, "Just look at his feet!"

All of them burst into laughter as Pierre lifts both feet into the air, showing everyone how big they are. He's a basketball player so that explains but Chan indeed doesn't want to be stepped on by those feet.

-

CHRIS: I say good luck and... may the best man win.

-

There's time left until everyone has to get ready for the welcome party tonight.

Chan can't relax yet just because he's the only one going after you. Two out of those three men will eventually have to choose another girl and he can't just leave it to luck, he needs to make some moves.

He goes to the dressing room only to find Lola and Jane in there, talking while fixing their make-up. Chan feels like interrupting so he goes to the bathroom next even though he's not sure he'll find you there.

He was too haste to think so, he finds you there leaning close to the mirror and dabbing lip balm on your plump lips. The shape your body takes as you bend over the sink, oh... he reminds himself to calm down.

"Hi," he sweetly greets you.

You see him through the reflection in the mirror and greet him back, "Hi!"

He walks over to the sink and leans his side against it, "How are you?"

You slowly turn to the side facing him while capping the tube of lip balm in your hand, "I'm good, great. You?

"Never been better," he answers.

You softly smile and put the lip balm back into a pouch, "So... What do you think going to happen tonight?"

The possibilities are endless but Chan settles on the simplest answer that fits his agenda, "What's going to happen is you and I share a bed."

You crack a low laugh and put one hand against the sink, "You want us to share a bed?"

But what he needs to hear is your answer, "What do you think?"

You consider it for a moment then say, "We'll see."

That's not an answer he wants, it's not even close to enough. Sure, Chan can play it cool but that's not who he is. Returning from the depth of his thoughts, he notices that you're checking him out from head to toe and doing it not so subtly.

Your eyes travel down his body and the next minute, you trap him in your eyes again.

"Are those real?"

"What?" He asks in confusion.

"Those abs," you say with a shy laugh.

He likes a confident girl but seeing you getting shy is endearingly cute.

"Who knows? It could be cake?!" You joke.

"Pinch it then!" He playfully dares you.

You hesitate for a moment, then gently put your fingertips on the sculpted muscles on his stomach and gasp in awe, "I can't even pinch it."

Keep running your fingertips on his skin and you playfully say, "It's so hard."

Standing this close to you with your hands on me is doing things to him. Chan swallows air and tries to keep it cool, "If you keep feeling my abs, I'm afraid it won't be the only thing that's hard."

You giggle yet you run your fingers down his abdomen, only stopping when they meet the waistband of his swimming trunks. He gets the urge to touch you in return and without needing to command, his hand automatically flies to your waist.

In this proximity, he can smell the fruity scent of your lip balm, sweet and enticing, making him want to taste it on your lips.

"Are you a good kisser?" He asks with his voice suddenly turning lower.

You slightly tilt your head to the side and flutter your eyelashes at him, "Why don't you find out?"

It's so attractive of you to say those words back to him in a low, sultry voice and make them weapons to weaken him. Just so you know, it works.

Chan bites his lower lip, impatient to crash them against yours. He puts his hand on the arch of your back, then slowly leans in closer, closer...

The sound of people coming to the bathroom shatters the moment, you laugh it off and gently push him away, "Try again later," you tell him.

You stop by the doorway and turn to look at him to add, "Only if you're lucky."

-

CHRIS: That! Right there! That's my type. [Nodding]

-

The boys are going down to the beach where the party is held.

The theme is Welcome to The Jungle and he dressed as his spirit animal, wolf. He shouldn't feel silly as everyone is also dressed in animal costumes.

The boys each take a glass of drink to fuel up for the night. Jace is the one leading by raising his glass high in the air, "Let's have some fun tonight!" He shouts.

Everyone else is following suit, raising their drinks high in the air and having a toast,

The contestants are only allowed to have three drinks max in one day so Chan doesn't need to worry about getting drunk. one drink is already enough to give him the courage to make a move on you tonight.

"There they are!" Luke says, pointing to the girls making their way down the stairs that lead to the beach.

Chan spots you right away, dressed in a costume of a bird with colorful fur and a pair of majestic wings. Suddenly, he feels like flying toward you.

He couldn't be any faster to get to your side and compliment you, "You're so beautiful!"

You brightly smile and make a pose for him, "Do you like it?"

"Spin for me!" He orders.

You do what he says, spinning on your feet and giggling as you almost stumble on your own foot.

Chan offers his hand to help you steady yourself and grins, "One beautiful love bird, aren't you?"

-

CHRIS: I'm on the hunt tonight! [Howls] [Laughs]

-

The music starts playing and everyone gets together in the middle, either dancing or drinking, or both. Chan can't keep his hands off of you ultimately because he was so close to getting a taste of it.

But that's okay, he likes playing this game of push and pull with you. He may have let you out of his arms but never out of his sight, you're only going as far as he let you.

Everyone is excited, a little tipsy, and sexually charged just in time to continue with a game. Lola takes the center and explains how the game works.

"Since we're all dressed like the animals we are..." she gets interrupted by Jace as he roars and bangs on his chest like the animal costume he's wearing.

"Each one of you will take turns to stand here then do your mating call and if any of you animals is attracted," she pauses to look at everyone before continuing, "You can kiss, bite, grab... whatever you want to do!"

It's an easy game to play and everyone is more than ready to answer some mating calls. Since Lola has taken the spot, she plays with her bunny ears and cutely hops on her feet like a rabbit but mewling like a cat.

Chan turns to Jace who's making eyes at her, crawling and walking like the animal he is dressed in, he playfully climbs her body and kisses her neck.

The others are responding with cheers and hoots, watching them going at each other's faces in front of them. It gets everyone impatient to take their turn.

The game is heating when Dani takes her turn, he can see that the three men in competition are getting ready to take their chance to kiss her and perhaps, try to be the best kisser of all.

Dani doesn't do a mating call of sorts, she just stands there and simply says, "Come and get it!"

Pierre dashes to get to her first and earns the first smooch, Iain and Luke are steadily waiting for their turn to kiss. While everyone else is enjoying the raunchy moment, Chan prepares himself because your turn is next. His eyes are following you as you walk to the appointed spot and turn to face everyone, you're laughing in giddy before trying to whistle as loud as you can.

Chan immediately gets up from his seat, but he hears a terrible lion roar from the other direction and sees Iain make his way to you.

He knows Iain still has an interest in you, but this will be his first and the last kiss he gets from you. He glares at Iain as he walks back to his seat.

Ignoring the rage inside him, Chan puts on his vicious eyes and shows his teeth, taking you by surprise as he sinks his teeth into your right breast, then your neck, and finally, your lips.

Iain kind of ruined this first kiss moment but Chan reminds himself that he'll not let anything get in the way of what he wants and this is what he wants. He holds your face with both hands and presses his lips on yours, he greedily kisses you and tugs your lips between his teeth before letting go.

Jace howls the loudest for him as Chan returns to his seat with a triumphant smile, he can taste the win on your lips, he can tell you fancy him more than Iain.

Chan finally takes his turn after Luke and he knows what he needs to do, he's going to howl like a wolf calling for you. He looks at you and says, "Come on!"

You're slyly smiling at him, pretending not to want to come forward but he knows, he knows you want to.

"I know you want it," He fiercely says, addressing you with his eyes.

You get up and break into running at him, not stopping until your body crashes into him in which he gladly welcomes you into his arms.

This is his chance to redo the first kiss so he kisses you, a little gentler than the previous one yet with the same passion. He puts his hands around your waist and without letting go of the kiss, he hoists you, then wraps your legs around his waist.

You yelp in surprise, but that only allows him to slip his tongue into your mouth and kiss you deeper as he holds you tightly.

"I'm going to take this bird home," he says after the.

Chan carries you back to your seat like the winning prize you are. He then silently glances at Iain with a bragging smile plastered on his face.

-

CHRIS: That's right, everyone. Kindly take your hands off of her because she's mine!

-

A lady walks in and Chan assumes she's the host of the show. She smiles and waves at everyone before talking, "Is everyone having fun?"

Everyone answers with a loud cheer and whistles, showing the host a lot of excitement. They're partying, drinking and they got to grab or bite or kiss, nothing to complain about.

"Okay, okay, I hear you all!" She responds with a knowing laugh.

She claps her hands together and turns on her feet to show a big box behind her, "If you look here, I have a surprise..."

Everyone is cooing in curiosity at the sight of it. Looking at the size of the box, it's safe to say that it fits a person inside.

The host has to wait for everyone to calm down to continue talking, "I am excited to announce that we have a surprise visit to start the show and make it special!"

Jace is whooping the loudest while the girls are whispering, wildly guessing by throwing famous people into the sentences.

"Are you ready to take the party to the next level?" She asks everyone.

"YEAH!!!" Everyone collectively answers.

"Okay then!" She flicks her fingers as a cue, then steps aside.

-

CHRIS: Whatever it is. Whoever it is. I'm ready. Give it to me!

-

Chan turns to look at you and asks, "What do you think?"

You shake your head and grin in excitement, "I don't know but it's exciting!"

Everyone is craning their necks and waiting in anticipation as they turn the lights around the box for a dramatic entrance. The door of the box is swinging opening little by little, it's dark to see what's inside, and then the thing inside lights up and chimes.

"OH! FUCK NO!!!" Dani screams and covers her face with both hands.

Chan turns to the side to look at you and you look as devastated as Dani, "You got to be kidding me!" You mutter under your breath.

He looks around and it seems like he's the only one who doesn't get a grasp of what's truly happening. He looks at the cone inside the box again and confusingly asks, "Is that... a speaker?"

You shake your head and whine, "No... It's Lana!"

Lana who? And why is everyone looking either mad or devastated? Would it be embarrassing if he told everyone that he doesn't watch TV or streaming movies like most people?

"Hello and welcome to the retreat!" The cone speaks which Chan has just learned is named Lana.

"You have been specially selected because you are all choosing meaningless sex over genuine relationships," she continues.

Luke gets offended and coughs, "Welp. She's not wrong."

"The purpose of this retreat is to help you gain deeper emotional connections in your personal relationships."

Lola brushes her hair to the back in frustration and groans, "But I don't want that!"

"As always, there are conditions to your stay here. You must abstain from sexual practices for the entirety of your stay."

It takes Chan a minute to process that. On the contract it says that he'll spend a month shooting the show, he does the math in his head and his mouth hangs open.

"Nah, nah, nah," Pierre repeatedly chants in denial.

Lana continues with a list of things everyone can't do in the retreat, "No kissing."

You drop your head on his shoulder at the mention of that and mewl.

"No heavy petting."

Jace drops onto his knees and rests his head on Lola's knee.

"No sex of any kind."

His ears perked and his head snaps in your direction, he gets why you're devastated because now he's just as devastated.

"This also applies to self-gratification."

Jace groans like he's in indescribable pain with his head tilts up looking at the night sky.

"What does that mean?" Jane innocently asks.

"No masturbating," Chan answers to her since everyone else is too busy mourning on their own.

"No–No flicking the beans, you mean?" She asks with eyes widening in horror.

Chan nods in sympathy and he can feel the agony already. He surely can pass a month without having sex but not getting a release from touching his own body, that's the sadistic part of it all.

-

CHRIS: I never... I don't think I can go for weeks without— [drops head] [sighs]

-

"I don't think I can do it," You mutter to him with a painful smile.

Jace is being dramatic once again by saying, "I want to call my mom and tell her to come pick me up."

The tattoos and piercings on his body aren't really reflecting Jace's inner self. It shows an example that a true bad boy doesn't necessarily have to look like it.

Lana cuts off everyone's moans and groans with further announcements.

"As part of your social development, I have allocated a prize of $200,000."

That gets everyone in spirit again and Jace immediately sits back on his seat next to Lola, "Cancel it. No need to call my mom!" He shouts at no one.

With that much money, Chan starts to think of things he can buy with it, some producing kits, a new sofa for his studio, and a recording mic he's been wanting to buy. His train of thought is derailed when Lana continues talking.

"Each time the rules are broken, money will be deducted from the prize fund."

Okay, that's so presumptuous of Chan to think that he'll win that money remembering that he's in a retreat with other horny people. There's no way that the amount of money will stay the same at the end of the retreat.

"Welcome to the retreat!" Lana concludes and leaves with another chime.

-

CHRIS: I met Lana and I understand why everyone is fuming [Laughs]

-

The night takes a hard turn and ends the party for good.

To give the girls time to change because they need more time with the make-up and costumes, the boys are lounging outside by the terrace.

"Oh, there she is!" Iain points at the cone that is now put in every corner of the villa.

Luke leans into the cone and commands, "Lana, go away!"

Chan bursts into laughter and leans back in his seat, "Dude, she's not Siri!"

Pierre is too big to sit on the armrest of the sofa, Chan makes a space for him and tells him to sit there.

"Who's going to sleep with who?"

The three competing guys are looking at each other, it's still unclear which one of them Dani is going to choose.

"Why don't we let them choose?" Jace calmly says that he knows for sure that Lola is going to sleep with him.

And Chan has nothing to worry about because he knows you're going to choose him.

The boys take their pick of bed and Chan chooses the one in the corner next to the big window. He's lying on the bed with hands tucked behind his head, waiting for the girls to come into the bedroom and choose their bed partner.

Alicia comes first and she seems to have made up her mind on the bed next to him which is Pierre's bed.

Chan turns to the side and says, "Nice one, bro!"

Pierre gives him a fistbump as a sign of victory and makes space on the bed for Alicia.

Lola is the next one and it's just what he expected, she jumps onto Jace's bed in which Jace enthusiastically waits with his open arms.

The time he's been waiting for is here, he sees you coming into the bedroom dressed in a cropped white top and shorts.

You're still beautiful to him with a bare face and your hair is down, his heart is beating faster and faster as you make your way to his bed.

Chan takes his hands away from under his head as you climb onto the bed, then pats the space between his legs, "Come here, baby!"

You crawl to him and sit where he asked you to, between his legs with your back resting against his chest. Chan wastes no time to cage you in his big arms, then buries his nose in your neck to drink in your heavenly scent.

His hand accidentally brushes over your breasts and despite that it's accidental, he can see that you're not wearing a bra underneath.

"I usually sleep naked," he shares with you.

You slightly turn your head to the side to meet his eyes, "Me too."

Chan, having not yet processed that he's in a sex retreat is not aware that information will most likely do him no good.

"Are you a good cuddler?" You ask.

He nuzzles his nose into your hair, "Oh, you're in for a treat!"

You comfortably rest your head on his shoulder as he slips his fingers into your hands and intertwines them together, resting them on your stomach afterward.

It suddenly turns quiet when Dani enters the bedroom and Chan is enjoying the drama about to unfold in front of him. He and Pierre exchange glances at each other. Now that Pierre has dropped out of the competition, that leaves Dani with two options left, Luke or Iain.

But it's clear that Dani has come to a decision to share the bed with Luke as she casually gets on his bed, "I'll sleep here," she says.

That leaves Iain with no choice but to sleep with Jane.

"Goodnight everyone!" Jace sweetly says to everyone in the room the second the lights are off.

It's a long day and he's still processing everything that happened but it's all worth it because now, he's sleeping next to you.

Chan puts his hand on your waist and pulls you close until your back meets his chest. He likes how your body molds perfectly into his and you snuggle more against his body, your ass rubbing against his crotch. Intentionally or not, he'll eventually get hard because of you.

You put your hand on his jaw and softly kiss his cheek, "Goodnight!"

He places a long kiss on your cheek in return, "Goodnight!" He says, adding a quick kiss on your shoulder after.

-

CHRIS: I don't even know if I'd be able to sleep next to a hot girl and not do anything. [Shakes head]

-

It's morning but the lights aren't on yet.

Chan makes use of the absence of light by cuddling you under the cover, putting his hand around you, and pressing kisses on your bare shoulder, then down your arm.

He hears you humming then softly rubbing your hand on his forearm.

Chan puts his mouth close to your ear, "You're awake?"

You don't say anything but lowly hum as his hand glides down your thigh and gently squeezes on the flesh. Then you turn your head at him and with eyes still closed, you lowly speak, "Nice."

He quietly laughs because you're slurring your words, "What?" He asks.

You turn your head around to whisper it to him so everyone else can't hear it, "Your morning wood."

Chan completely forgot about it but it's too late to hide it, you're probably been feeling his morning wood poking at your ass cheek for a while now. He takes his hand away from your thigh and rests it on your stomach.

"Now I kind of want to see it," you playfully say with a sly smile.

"Mmh... don't worry, you'll see," he seductively whispers to you.

Thankfully, the lights are on and Chan has time to tame his morning wood before he has to start the day.

The cone perched on the small glass table lights up and chimes, "Good morning, everyone!"

It only reminds Chan of the torment he puts himself in. He chooses to stay lying on his bed while you sit against the headboard of the bed with his hand resting on your thigh.

"A reminder that you're no longer in Lust Island and this is the first day of your retreat. Enjoy!" Lana keeps his morning greeting brief yet painful.

Luke groans with a pillow covering his face, "This is like... a nightmare."

Sure, it's hard to stay sexless for a whole month but to say this a nightmare when he sleeps next to a beautiful girl like you, Chan disagrees.

The day starts with working out at the beach with Pierre and he's doing his last rep of push-ups when Jace joins them. He's picking up a dumbbell and groans even before he picks it up.

"I don't know about you but I couldn't sleep much last night," Jace says.

Pierre laughs at him, "Wait, wait, are you—"

"Nah," Jace instantly denies, "I'm just waiting for someone to break the rule first."

Chan sits on the mat with his body coated in sweat, "I bet my money on Luke."

Pierre and Jace hoots at the same time, then slapping each other's chests, "Oh, yeah, damn!"

"Don't you laugh! You're close on second, Jace!" Chan says to him, almost falling over to the back as he laughs.

The hilarity ensues even after Jace starts lifting his dumbbells while standing, facing the vast blue sea.

"What about you, Aussie boy?" He asks.

Chan shields his eyes from the sun with his hand, "What about me?"

Jace shoots him a sly smirk, "Hey, I know, I see everything."

"Oh, yes, yes, he's all over her," Pierre eggs in just to tease him.

Chan glares at him and points his finger at him, "Watch out. I'm sleeping next to you!"

Pierre holds in his laughter, "I won't tell if you don't tell."

Everyone's curiosity is about to get fulfilled as Lana calls everyone to gather in the cabana. Seeing you for the first time after this morning, looking so stunning in a black bikini.

He sits right next to you at the end of the curved sofa with Lana already sitting right in the center of the wooden table.

"I'm nervous," Lola says, even though Lana hasn't come online yet.

Then comes the melodic chime and everyone gets tensed all at once. Seeing everyone nervous, makes Chan nervous too so he puts his arm around you to comfort him.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana begins.

There are various answers but everyone is half-heartedly replying to her.

"You were brought here to form deeper emotional connections and last night, you were given strict rules to adhere to."

Lana sounds not pleased and Chan wonders if anyone has broken the rules yet. He knows for sure that you and him are not breaking any so he scans to spot any guilty faces.

"Those rules forbid sexual contact of any kind. Regrettably, a few minutes later there was a breach of the rules," Lana informs.

"Ooh..." A few people coo in response.

Chan continues his search for guilty faces, his bet is still on Luke but it could be anyone.

"Does this mean it was last night?" Jane asks, looking the most innocent out of the bunch.

Jace slyly laughs and looks at everyone, "Okay, so, who did it?"

Now Chan is not the only one on the hunt for the guilty ones. Everyone is trying to see what is not visible to the naked eye.

Not long after, the first culprit starts to show herself. Dani is shaking her leg too much and trying not to look everyone in the eyes. The calm on her face gradually falters with each passing second.

"You're smiling," Pierre points out and everyone's attention is turned to her.

Dani can't keep her calm anymore and decides to come clean, "Yeah, it was me."

"Oh, shit!" Jace yells, representing everyone else in the group.

"With whom?" Lola asks.

Dani shakes her head, "I'm not going to name names," she says with a cryptic smile.

Now everyone is wondering who kissed Dani between Luke and Iain, the whole thing turns into a detective game. Who kissed Dani?

"Nope. It's not me," Iain confesses right away and the suspicion is directed at the last person left on the list.

Everyone is only waiting for Luke to admit it and you shift on your seat as immersed in the moment as...

"It was me," you come forward with your hand raised.

It takes him more than a moment to collect himself and convince himself that he heard it right. You have just confessed as the one who kissed Dani last night.

Jace jolts in his seat, "WHAT?"

Pierre leans at Chan and exclaims, "Wow!"

You look at everyone and apologize, "I'm sorry. I don't know... I just didn't think that we'd get caught," you explain.

As you're about to sit back, you turn your head in the direction of Luke, "I'm sorry for being the first to kiss Dani," you specifically apologize to him.

-

CHRIS: She kissed Dani... [Chuckles] I like that shit [pinches the bridge of his nose]

-

"This breach of the rules has cost the group $3,000," Lana announces, reminding everyone that there's prize money to protect.

"The prize fund now stands at $197,000."

Chan is getting more pessimistic that there'll be any money left at the end of the retreat. With everyone knowing that someone has broken the rules, it's only about time that everyone takes their turn to do it.

Personally, Chan doesn't care about the money, he has enough but that doesn't mean he will act selfishly by breaking the rules. The word 'selfish' isn't what he wants to be associated with him.

Also, it's not his money in the first place, it's everyone's money, therefore he can't waste money without thinking of the group.

You squeeze yourself into the small sofa he's sitting in and put your hand around him, "Hi," you softly say with a smile.

He looks at you and puts your leg over his knee, putting his hand on the back of your thigh, "Hi!"

You put your hand on the nape of his neck where the beads of water are dripping from the end of his hair from swimming.

"You look good wet," you tell him.

Chan brushes his hair to the back and looks at you, "You look better wet," he says with a sly grin.

It's hard being this close to you and not kissing you. Chan has to actively tell his brain to not give in to the temptations even though it's sitting right on his lap.

"Are you mad?" You ask.

He reckons you're asking about the kiss you did with Dani, "How can I be mad at that?" he asks back.

You laugh in response, "Yeah?"

He rests his head to look up at you, "That's just so hot," he replies.

You put your other hand around him and look into his eyes, entrapped him in your mesmerizing gaze.

Chan's plan is simple: Try not to act selfishly.

Then you happened. You kissed Dani, the most popular girl in the retreat, and then you openly admitted it to everyone. That only shows you have no problem breaking the rules, and added the fact that you're so attractive to him making a lethal combination that would likely lead Chan to act against his plan.

-

CHRIS: She's not only too hot to handle. I'm afraid, she's also a lot to handle [grins] but in the best way.

-

To make everyone connect emotionally rather than physically, Lana has set up a workshop in the front yard of the villa.

Everyone is paired up for it and he, of course, is your partner, he expects nothing less than it. Except that Iain gets the chance to be with Dani in this workshop.

A sex expert has been invited to lead the workshop, "Today, we're going to learn about restraint," she announces.

She walks to the center and looks at everyone as she speaks, "This workshop is about learning to slow down, there's so much more to intimacy and physical connections aside from sex."

Today's lesson is exploring each other's erogenous zones, to find the parts of our bodies that are sensitive to sexual stimulation. Chan has no idea if it would help him think less about sex because it seems like it's going to do the opposite to him.

There's a selection of equipment to help, there are feathers, roses, whips, and even melted chocolate on a bowl. You take the first turn, laying on your stomach on the thin mattress so he can start his exploration.

To begin, Chan only wants to use his hand to trace the curve of your body, feeling every inch of your skin with his fingertips.

You look over your shoulder as his hand climbs up your spine and stops at the nape of your neck only to drag his knuckle down your back.

"You're so soft," he murmurs as he puts your hair away from covering your neck.

You flash him a sly smile and hum, "Mmh..."

He takes a feather from the basket and begins to touch your body with it, finding the special spots that make you whimper or squirm.

Or giggle, just like you're doing right now as he tickles your ankle with the feather, "Tickles?"

You nod with your teeth faintly biting your lower lip.

"Turn over for me, please?" He says to you.

You obey and lay on your back, propping both elbows against the mattress to see that Chan has picked up a rose now.

Chan starts at the neck this time, softly touching you with the rose. He notices you lowly humming as he glides it down your chest and the petals are making a trail down your front. Yet he keeps dragging down your inner thigh and you lowly moan.

"Tickles?"

"Uh-huh."

He brings it close to your clothed core, "Right here?"

You're looking him in the eyes as you reply, "Yes."

"Self control and restraint. Two essential parts of today's lesson!" The expert reminds everyone not to get overboard with their explorations.

Before he takes his turn, he takes a dollop of chocolate and smears it across your sternum. Slowly, he leans down to lick it off of you with his slick, hot tongue.

He can hear your stifled breath and your chest heaving as he sucks on the skin on your breast. He finishes with a kiss on your neck and a triumphant smile on his face.

-

CHRIS: Looking at her laying there and being so sensitive under my touch oh... [hisses] [exhales]

-

The nervousness gets to him when he lays down on the mattress and puts his hands under his head, surrendering his body because it's time for you to explore now.

You crawl over his body to get the whip from the basket and he guesses, you intentionally pressing on his crotch as you look down on him with the whip in your hand.

"I haven't started but your ears are already getting red," you tell him.

Chan tries to stay calm and closes his eyes for a while to finally come up with a response, "It's the sun."

You laugh at that and begin your exploration by touching his body with the leather whip, without warning, slapping it on his skin.

"How about that?" You lowly ask.

"Not bad," he coyly answers.

You get off his body and lay next to him while the whip is continuing its journey down his body, heading close to his clothed member and again, slapping him on his thigh without warning.

"Harder?" You ask.

But before he can answer, you're slapping on the other thigh, earning a low groan out of him. Without looking, he knows that his ears are getting even redder at this moment.

On his pale skin, you can see the marks you made from whipping him, and decides to switch it to feather. You're looking at him while you're teasing his neck with the feather, he can't lie that his ears are one of his sensitive parts. The hair on his arms stands up as you rub the feather on his ear shell.

"You're so cute," you breathlessly whisper, putting his weakness to your advantage.

He can only look at you and hope that he doesn't fall apart under your touch. You take the bowl of melted chocolate, then sit on his crotch, earning a moan out of him.

You flash him a grin that hints you're up to no good. He watches as you pour the chocolate onto his abs and pick a strawberry, dipping it on the chocolate on his abs before tugging it between your teeth and feeding it to him.

Doing it carefully to not accidentally break the rules, Chan takes a bite of the strawberry without his lips touching yours then you shove the rest of it into your mouth and chew on it.

He assumes that you have done as you sit back on the mattress, you hold his body down with your hand on his chest.

"Nuh-uh! I'm not finished yet," you tell him.

He wonders what else you're trying to do but that's the pleasure of not knowing. He sees you ducking your head onto his stomach to lick the chocolate on his abs.

Your tongue makes a long strip of lick up his abs and another long strip down on the next, you clean the rest in kitten licks, making the best of your time to torture him as his ears are about to explode at how red and hot they are, he lies when he said it's because of the sun.

Chan notices the smear of chocolate on your upper lip, "Come here!" He gestures for you to come close to his face.

You crawl and hover over his body, you stay still as he cleans it for you by licking it. It's not a rule break since it's only his tongue that makes contact with your lips.

"How'd it taste?"

"So, so sweet," he answers.

Sadly, the workshop is over. They know that if they let it on for too long, it's going to turn into one massive orgy.

"Self-control is very difficult but I hope that you can take something out of this workshop and practice it in the retreat," the expert concludes at the end of the workshop.

-

CHRIS: I learned that she's sensitive on her ankle, her neck, her chest, and I... can't wait to touch her all over again [Chuckles]

-

There's a lot of seats on the sofa but you choose to sit on his lap. Not that he minds about it, he just can't trust himself when you're this close, especially dressed in a skin-tight outfit that enhances every curve of your body.

You loop an arm around his neck and the other hand is holding a drink, your eyes are always locked in a gaze with him.

"Do you play any sports?"

"Soccer, bowling... uh, pool?" Chan lists the sports he's been playing recently.

You put your drink away so you can use both hands to feel his shoulder blades, "Which sport got you these broad shoulders?"

Chan takes a small sip of his drink before putting it away, "I believe that's from swimming," he answers.

He puts his hand on your thigh with his thumb mindlessly rubbing on the skin as he talks, "I took part in a few swimming competitions in high school."

"Ooh..." you coo in awe, "So, you're good at swimming."

Chan nonchalantly shrugs, then grins, showing his dimples at you.

"What is your best style?"

"Freestyle, butterfly," he casually answers.

"How about breaststroke?" You ask with a seductive smile.

"I'm the best," he answers even though it's kind of vague if you're still talking about swimming style or a different kind of stroke.

It's hard to keep the conversation casual with you, he can't blame you though. It's impossible not to think about sex when he's with you.

"I want to learn the breaststroke from you," you playfully say with a flirtatious gaze.

"How about a private swimming lesson?" He spontaneously comes up with an idea.

With his recent discovery that the back of your thigh is sensitive, he puts his hand there as he says, "I'm going to teach all kinds of strokes."

-

CHRIS: I just can't keep my head straight when I'm with her. There's just a lot of sexual tension, it's unbearable [sighs]

-

While everyone else is getting ready for bed, you change into a swimsuit and meet him at the swimming pool. You sit on the edge to take off the mic to not risk it getting wet and damage it, then jump into the pool afterward.

It is supposed to be a swimming lesson but Chan pushes you to the wall and cages you between his arms. You don't seem to mind it though but Chan is unaware of the danger he trapped himself in.

"I think there'll be lots of rule breaks tonight," you say.

Chan glides his hand down to your waist and holds you there, "Well, thanks to you!" He pokes fun at you.

You chuckle at that and put your arms around his shoulders, "What about you?"

You put your hand on his pec and hypnotizing eyes that look right into his soul, "Are you going to break rules?"

You lean in close and graze his nose with the tip of your nose, "Are you going to be good or bad tonight, mmh?"

Chan brushes his hair to the back before diving it back into the water and lifts your leg by the back of your thigh to hook it around him.

He brings his face close to your side and lowly whispers, "Is that what you want?"

You tip your head to the other side, enticing him with your exposed neck, "Mmh, yeah..."

The beads of water trickling down the column of your neck make him give in to the temptation and plant a kiss on the skin behind your ear, "You naughty girl!" he says with a laugh.

You put your hands on his chest, "And I know you're just as naughty," you say back while gently pushing him away.

Chan laughs and has you pinned against the wall again, looking at your face glows from the bluish lights of the swimming pool.

He reaches for your face and swipes his thumb across your lips, "I want to kiss you," he says with a hoarse voice.

You giggle and put your hands on each side of his waist, "We can't do that, Chris," you say with an insinuating tone that indicates you're not meant to remind him about the rules.

Your eyes are daring him to cross the line and so he does, he puts his hand under your chin, then leans in to kiss you. The way you eagerly return it, he allows himself to kiss you harder and deeper.

Chan lets out a delightful sigh once he pulls away from the kiss and laughs the moment his eyes meet yours, "That was hot," he comments, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

He's going against his plan to not act selfishly but at that moment, he doesn't think about the money at all. His eyes are looking at your lips and how they're glistening wet, inviting him to kiss it again.

-

CHRIS: Oh my, Gosh! It's just so hard... it's hard [shakes his head]

-

Chan closes his eyes and tries to reorganize his thoughts, holding you tightly to help him get a grip. He hoists you against his body and you immediately wrap your legs around his waist.

"You're a good kisser," you compliment with both of your hands around his neck.

He tilts his head up to look at you, "You're a good kisser too."

You tangled your hand in the hair on the back of his head, "I kind of want to do it again."

Chan knows that you're not asking for his permission, he also knows that one kiss won't be enough for both of you. The kiss is explosive and thrilling, giving him a newfound kind of rush that he wants to experience all over again.

You kiss him first and Chan becomes the one who eagerly returns the kiss to you, opening his mouth so he can use his tongue in the mix.

"Mmh..." you moan as you put your lips on his, then slowly let go.

You smile as you put your forehead against him and seductively giggle, "You're so bad, you know that?"

It should be him saying that line to you. Whenever he's with you, he feels like has no sense of self-control anymore, all he wants to do is submit to your wishes.

He puts you down and turns around so he can rest his back, pulling you close to hold you from the back. He hopes that not seeing your lips will help him calm down.

It's when he composed himself he realizes the damage he has done to the prize money, "Okay, I feel the guilt now," he pathetically admits.

With his hands wrapped around your waist, you rub his forearm in the water and say, "We could have done more but we didn't, you know?"

"That's true," Chan agrees because yes, he could have done more than just kisses with you. If he were out there, he would have broken a bed or two with you.

Chan is fond of physical affection, both receiving and giving. It's imperative for him when it comes to connecting and bonding with the person he likes.

It's a bummer that he can't freely do that in the retreat but if he's going to break rules, he'll only do it with one person and that is you.

-

CHRIS: I want to be good but she brings out the bad in me so... [shrugs]

-

Chan had barely started his day when Lana gathered everyone in the bedroom.

He enters and sees you already sitting on the bed, he sits on the end to let you hug him from the back, waiting for the cone to light up and chime like she usually does.

"Mmh... so hot!" You gasp as you put your hand across his chest.

"How come you only found out now, mmh?" He jokes.

He knows you're talking about his skin and that's because he was at the beach to swim when Lana called. Also, he knows that it's time for judgment, everyone is going to know about the things he did.

Now that he knows he's about to get exposed, his heart skips a beat as the melodic chime comes from the cone.

"Oh! There she is!" Jane weakly gasps.

Lana hasn't spoken but Chan knows she's not pleased with the news she's about to deliver today.

"I have some disappointing news."

Chan silently swallows air and puts his hands together in front of him. He can see the guilts are coming back and haunting him.

"There has been a breach of the rules."

Everyone coo and all eyes are automatically looking for the guilty faces. Chan can see that he's not the only one breaking the rules, he just can't tell if it's going to make him feel better or worse.

-

CHRIS: I'm on the hot seat right now. Everyone is not going to be pleased.

-

Jace leans forward on the bed and rubs his chin, "I'll be honest with you all," he begins.

Jace and his playful smirk is an easy giveaway, Chan can tell that he broke the rules. Lola is also looking nervous as she keeps picking on her nails.

"I spent some money. I kissed Lola last night," he confesses.

Iain sighs and mutters under his breath, "Oh, man..."

"It was all me," Jace says as he glances at Lola, taking all the blame from her.

"I feel a connection so I guess it was worth it... yeah, I'm sorry, you guys," he concludes.

Pierre nods and seems to give him a pass, "Okay."

That seems easy to do and since everyone is on the same ship, Chan reckons that they'll respect his honesty and understand why he did what he did.

It's best to own up to his mistakes quickly than mulling over it so he confesses, "We kissed by the pool last night."

You hide behind his shoulder with your hand resting on the other shoulder.

"Just once?" Jane asks.

Chan looks at you and you take your turn to speak for both of you, "Twice."

"Oh... fuck..." Pierre lowly curses on the bed next to him.

"Is that it?" Iain asks.

He wants to be honest but it's hard when everyone is throwing daggers with their eyes at him. He forces himself to admit it, "I kissed her again. On the bed."

Chan felt guilty on the first kiss but after the second kiss, it got easier for him to rulebreak. As he was spooning you last night, your body was pressed against him and you smelled so good, it just felt right to give you a long, passionate goodnight kiss.

That, he admits is a hundred percent his fault.

"And that's it. No more kisses," you assure everyone before they can yell at him again.

"We're sorry," you end with an apology.

Chan feels grateful that you don't leave him alone, you firmly stand your ground and face it with him.

"That was a waste of money," Iain mutters loud enough for everyone to hear.

You take a sharp breath and ask, "Is that all Lana?"

"There was another breach of the rules," Lana informs, sounding so fed up already.

The drama continues as the next rulebreaker comes to light and that is Luke. It’s kind of expected, he's with Dani after all, and committed two rulebreaks. Pierre comes forward with one kiss with Alicia.

Chan is just so relieved that they take the attention away with them and he can breathe now with the glares no longer aimed in his direction.

"All of these rule breaks have made me reassess my retreat strategy," Lana states.

"Oh... she's mad," Lola says with a panicked smile.

"I have now decided to implement a stricter regime. The fines will now be doubled starting from these rule breaks," she informs.

Chan turns his head to look at you and sees you cringe at the shocking announcement.

"These multiple rule breaks have cost the group $42,000."

Lola gasps with her hand flies to cover her mouth, "We might as well pack up our bags right now," she says.

You both have just now realized the damages done to the prize money. You nuzzle your head into his neck, feeling bad from the guilt.

"The prize fund now stands at $155,000," Lana updates.

-

CHRIS: The bill turned up and we're like whoa! [Eyes widen] I guess yeah... we spent quite a lot.

-

Now it's the perfect time for him to swim at the beach.

Chan needs to cool his head down and let the seawater wash away his guilt of spending that much money on three kisses, he can do so much with $18,000.

He's swimming far off the shore and when he walks back to the villa, Jace is laughing at him.

"I thought you were swimming back to Australia, dude!" He says him while brushing his long blond hair to the back.

Chan doesn't see that Luke is there too until he arrives at the top of the stairs, "I thought about it, yeah," he playfully responds to him.

Chan then sits on the lounger next to him and dries his hair with a towel. He leans back on the lounger and turns his head at him, "I was right that you'll be the second to break the rules!"

Jace snickers, "Damn right, I am. It was worth it."

Luke rubs his oiled body and says, "Yo, I was the one in the hot seat."

Chan laughs at him, "And I thank you for taking everyone's attention away."

"You owe me!" Luke says.

Jace points at Chan with his head lolling to the side, "You know what? I think you'll need a loan soon," he jokes.

Chan shakes his head and that sounds plausible with how much money he spent in one night. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, he hisses in response, "Nah..."

Truthfully, that would be a lie. Chan has not yet found a way to try to stick with the plan but at the same time, he wants to always be close to you but it's dangerous once he gets close to you.

Chan needs to work on his self-control and for a start, he needs to put a safe space between you and him.

-

CHRIS: You know what? I'll not break any rules from now on... [uneasily glances side to side] Hopefully.

-

First thing in the morning, Chan gets handed a hard task when he steps into the bathroom.

"Baby, please, help me!" You sweetly say with a tube of sunblock in your hand.

Chan has no other option but to comply and think of it as a test of self-control. He takes the sunblock from you as you slightly bend down with your hands on the edge of the sink.

"Get in there! Don't be shy!" You playfully tell him as he hesitates to rub over some sunblock on your ass cheeks.

"Okay, okay," he replies, rubbing the cream on the ample flesh of your rear, and not going to lie, he likes what he's touching.

Chan notices that you're looking at him through the reflection in the mirror and he senses that you know what's been happening the last few days.

"You say you're a good cuddler..." you say.

He rubs the rest of the sunblock down your arms, "I am," he assures.

You look over your shoulder at him, "But you barely cuddled me last night," you say with a pout.

His heart flips seeing you adorably complaining about the lack of cuddles and he can't help but smile. He knows he shouldn't put a space all of a sudden and not tell you about it.

Chan pulls your body close against his body and looks at the reflection of him hugging you from the back, fuck, he likes what he's seeing.

He slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you closer, close enough to press on his crotch, "You always make me hard," he confesses.

He presses a long kiss on your neck then says, "That's why."

You're chuckling at his honest answer then turn around to face him, putting your hands on his magnificent abs.

"How about I return the favor?" You suddenly ask.

Chan's eyes widen in shock and he wonders if the favor you mentioned has got to do with the thing he said earlier.

You burst into laughter and take the tube of sunblock, "I mean, putting on sunblock," you make the context clear.

You gently pat his cheek and kiss it while still laughing, "What are you thinking, mmh?"

-

CHRIS: Told you, I just can't think straight when I'm with her.

-

With their eyebrows raised and not-so-subtle death glares thrown your way, it's obvious that they think the reason why Lana called everyone to the cabana is because you both broke the rules again.

"Nah. Nuh-uh. Not us!" You quickly deny everyone's allegations.

Chan can relax this time knowing that he didn't do any rulebreak and puts his arm around your shoulder. You offer your hand to intertwine it with his.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana greets not long after the cone chimes in.

Lola is nervously laughing in response and Jace follows suit, they make a strange couple out of the bunch which only makes them inexplicably cute.

"To help you achieve personal growth during your stay, I need to increase your chance of finding meaningful romantic relationships," Lana remarks.

You turn your head at Chan and raise an eyebrow, wondering if he has any clue as to what Lana is hinting at.

"Therefore, I have invited two new guests to the retreat."

The gasp you let out is loud and sharp, Chan gets a little alarmed at how enthusiastic you get from this announcement. Should he be worried though?

"My guests have selected one person each to take on a date," Lana further informs.

"Oh, my God!" Alicia shrieks.

It shouldn't worry him this much but Chan feels a little worried. It's not him, it's you, he worries that your head will turn.

"The ones chosen for the dates are..."

-

CHRIS: Lana, can you just send us on a date instead? [Laughs] I'll not be pleased if she gets chosen for the date.

-

Chan doesn't want to show it but he starts tapping his fingers on his knee, waiting for Lana to inform who got chosen to get on dates with the new guests.

"Alicia..." Lana announces the first name.

Pierre hisses at the mention of his partner and coyly smiles, looking calm about it.

"And Chris," Lana announces.

Chan only registered a minute later that Lana called his name and that he got picked for the date. He might have secretly prayed for your name to not get called and forgot to pray for his own.

"Alicia and Chris, you may now leave and get ready for your dates," Lana orders.

You thinly smile at him and kiss him on the cheek, "Have fun!"

He's not sure if you mean it or not, but Chan takes it that you have good intentions behind those words. He briefly hugs you before leaving.

-

CHRIS: I did not expect to get chosen but yeah, I think it's a good chance for me to show her that I'm into her.

-

It's when he's getting ready in the dressing room that Lana delivers additional information.

One, they haven't told the new guests that they are on Too Hot To Handle which will make them as horny and as eager as he is at the start of the retreat.

Two, Chan is free to decide at which point to tell them about it.

"It's better if we tell them right away then," Chan talks to Alicia as they're walking down to the beach.

"But then they won't try to kiss you," Alicia cheekily says which is the opposite of what they should do to resist temptations.

"Good luck!" Chan gives Alicia a quick hug as they go separate ways at the beach.

He keeps walking until he finds the place where they have prepared a picnic for the date and also where the new guest has been waiting for him.

The girl turns her head around and smiles when she sees him coming her way, "Hi, hi!"

Chan joins her by sitting on the pillow on the picnic mat, "Hi, I'm Chris," he introduces and offers his hand for a handshake.

"I'm Olivia," she introduces back but instead of shaking his hand, she puts her hand around his shoulder and pulls him for a hug.

It gets him nervous and it's not the first time he goes on a date like this. He grabs the glass of drink that has been prepared for him and initiates a toast with her.

"Is that an Australian accent that I hear?" She asks.

"Yes," He answers.

"Oh, I like that," she sweetly says with a bright smile.

This is the real temptation. Olivia has a voluptuous body, gorgeous strawberry-blond hair, and a nice smile. Chan was so wrong to think that her date would be ugly.

"I've never been to a date this nice, honestly," Olivia says.

Chan swallows his drink before answering, "Well, thank you for choosing me so I can enjoy this nice date with you," he says.

He doesn't mean to sound this flirty, it just sort of comes out of him naturally. It's just the way he talks to a girl.

"Well, you have a great body, sexy lips and dimples. I think it's a no-brainer," Olivia says with eyes that silently travel down his body.

This is what he doesn't get from you enough from you, affirmations and now that he got it from someone, he gets flustered, "Thank you," he mutters with a shy smile.

Olivia flips her hair to one side of her shoulder and gazes at him, "What do you think about me? Am I your type?"

Chan lets out a low laugh and holds his drink in one hand, "You're obviously good-looking," he begins.

Olivia is biting on her finger and locked in a gaze with him as he continues talking.

"I like your smile. It's uh... you have a very nice smile," he sincerely compliments.

"Thank you," she mutters her gratitude with a flirtatious smile.

-

CHRIS: Just because I'm already with someone that doesn't mean I can't get to know Olivia.

-

The plan is to break the news to Olivia as soon as possible.

However, Chan keeps finding himself stalling to do it. He gets immersed in the conversation with Olivia and maybe because he hasn't met new people in a while that makes him inexplicably excited to talk to someone new.

Chan finishes his drink to muster up the courage to drop the news but it's hard when Olivia is constantly giving him the eyes.

"It's a nice date, yeah?" Chan begins by softening the moment.

Olivia smiles and nods, "It would be nicer if we kissed," she shamelessly says.

Oh, Olivia is a trouble and Chan already has a handful of it, she's probably waiting for him to come back from this date as they speak.

"I don't think that's going to happen," Chan says.

"Why?" Olivia's smile falters a little and maybe, she's feeling a little dejected by how quickly Chan shot her down.

"This is not what you think it is," Chan carefully says.

One of her eyebrows shoots up higher than the other, "What do you mean?"

Chan takes a deep breath even though Olivia who should be the one doing it, "You're on Too Hot To Handle."

Olivia sits up straighter and clutches at her chest, "What?"

He feels bad to rain on her parade but he's merely there to be the bearer of bad news.

"That means no kissing, no heavy petting, no masturbating, no sex..."

Her eyes get wider and wider the more she hears about things she's not allowed to do in the retreat, "That means no fun? Ever?"

"Basically... yeah," Chan playfully responds.

Oh, is this how he looked when Lana dropped the news on him? The only thing he knows for sure is Olivia is as livid as he was back then.

-

CHRIS: What can I do? Lana is the one in control here.

-

The night gets dark in time to return to the villa.

Chan helps Olivia climb the stairs on her heeled sandals and proceeds to introduce her to everyone. He gets a little nervous when it comes to introducing Olivia to you.

"So, how was the date?" Lola asks.

Chan scratches the back of his head and answers, "We had a good time."

"Yeah, that was... the nicest date I ever had," Olivia adds.

He takes a seat next to you on the sofa and you're only looking at him without saying anything.

"Did you have fun?" You finally ask him.

Chan leans into your side and says, "Let's have a talk!"

Taking you by the hand, he pulls you aside to get some privacy. You choose to sit on the sofa across from him rather than next to him.

"Uh... Olivia is sweet and we had a great chat," Chan begins while rubbing down his arm.

"I used the chance to get to know her," he adds.

He sees you subtly rolling your eyes at him and sigh, pretending like you don't care but he knows. It's kind of cute that you're worrying him that Chan's heart is fluttering inside.

He reaches for your hands and intertwines his fingers with you, "But the whole time, during the date..."

He looks at you and smiles, "I just couldn't wait to get back."

A smile rises on your face and he can see that you soften around him. He uses his index fingers to draw endless circles on the inside of your palm.

"I miss you," he softly mutters.

You're shyly smiling at him and say it back, "I miss you too."

"Come here! Give me a hug!" He says while shaking your hand.

You get up from the sofa and walk up to him, he stops you before coming for his lap.

"Oh, looking so hot tonight," he comments on the way you dressed tonight in a black silk dress with a high slit on the side.

"Spin for me, baby," he requests.

You take your hand away so you can do it for him, spinning on your feet. You show off your dress and make a few poses for him, doing it so confidently that it's undeniably sexy to him.

"Mmh... yeah, the finest girl in the retreat!" He praises.

You're laughing looking at his exaggerated facial expression, then melt onto his lap, letting him hold you tightly. Chan kisses the top of your head and whispers, "You're my number one."

After all, the word 'loyal' is what he likes to be associated with.

-

CHRIS: I don't think there's anybody else that could walk in here and turn my head at all. She's the one.

-

With his open arms, Chan is ready to catch you as you jump onto the bed at him. He locks his arms around you, then peppers your shoulder and neck with little kisses.

"Good job, Chris!" Alicia beams from the next bed.

He sees that she's still sharing the bed with Pierre, and he says back to her, "Good job, Alicia!"

The date was certainly a test but it's not much about temptations, it made Chan realize how much he likes you and he doesn't want to be with anyone else in this retreat but with you.

As he looks at you while you're lying next to him, he wonders if you feel the same too. He softly brushes your hair to the side and gently kisses your cheek, "Goodnight, baby!"

The lights are out and you snuggle into him, hooking your leg around him with your foot rubbing his shin. You place a long kiss on his neck before lowly whispering to him, "I'm glad you're back."

Chan quietly smiles in the dark of the room, "With you," he continues the sentence for you.

"With you," you repeated his words instead of putting it into a whole sentence.

He turns his head and he can easily land a kiss on your forehead, "Me too."

It's getting suspicious that your hand that was resting on his chest is slowly going lower and lower. You're probably waiting until everyone else is fast asleep to do something.

You nuzzle your head further into his neck to kiss him there, your hand is inching closer to the waistband of his boxer.

"Mmh..." he warns you with a hard squeeze on your waist.

You bring your mouth close to his ear and playfully bite on his ear shell, ignoring his warning by slipping your hand into his boxer.

Chan can stop you by putting your hand away but he knows you want to make him feel good and he simply can't resist you.

"Oh, you're so bad," he says it so low it's almost like a whisper.

He closes his eyes the moment your hand meets his semi-hard cock, "You're so bad," he says again but does nothing to stop you.

"I know," you reply to him, wrapping your hand around his length and slowly stroking it.

Chan draws you closer to his side with his hand fisting the back of your camisole as he begins enjoying the stimulation you're giving him.

"Impressive," you seductively sigh into his ear after exploring every inch of his hardening cock.

One compliment is enough to make him extremely aroused. He feels your thumb circling the tip of his cock before pumping it up and down with your hand at a steady pace.

Chan holds it in as long as he could but after days passed without getting a release, his self-control hits the lowest peak and he cums only after a few minutes.

"That wasn't even my good hand," you whisper with a low giggle.

He turns to look at you and jokingly says, "What good hands, mmh? You don't have any."

Chan knows he's a few minutes late to pull your hand out of his boxer, he then playfully bites at your fingers, "They're all bad hands. Bad, naughty hands!"

As you lowly laugh at his reply, he presses a kiss on your open mouth and draws you closer to him, feeling your body molds into his again.

-

CHRIS: [Bites lip] I can only hope that we didn't get caught.

-

"Morning," Chan croaks with a soft kiss on your cheek.

You get up right away a moment after the lights are turned on, sitting with your back against the headboard then ties your hair into a messy bun.

Still gathering his senses, Chan decides to rest his head on your lap and put your hand in his hair so you can play with it.

You give his curls a ruffle and brush it with your fingers, "Is this your natural hair?"

What you're doing is comforting him so that he can only hum in response, "Mmh."

He turns his head to the side and sees you looking down at him, "Do you like it?"

You tenderly cup his cheek in your hand, "Mmh. I like it."

Chan takes your hand to kiss the inside of your hand and wrist, his heart skips a beat at the melodic chime that comes from the cone.

Thankfully, it's Lana with her usual morning greeting and wishing the new guests a good day on their first day in the retreat. Chan thought that the first day was the hardest, but now he learned that he lost a bit of his self-control on each day spent in this retreat. What happened last night is the proof of it.

"How was your sleep, Nick, Olivia?" Lola asks the new guests who shared the bed.

"To be honest, I'm hoping it was all just a dream," Nick answers.

Everyone painfully laughs at the satire. Chan honestly still wishes that it was only just a dream but instead of that, he got used to the cameras recording everything he does in the retreat.

"Is there anyone you like here?" Luke asks either Olivia or Nick.

Chan doesn't need to worry about Olivia anymore. Guess, she has seen that he's with you which automatically makes her stop pursuing him. It's the other guest that he worries about, he notices that he's been secretly stealing glances at you.

"Mmh..." you moan as you hug him tight before getting up from the bed to start the day.

-

CHRIS: She worried for me last night but that's not quite convinced me if she feels the same way. I'm a little worried that her head will turn.

-

His fear turns real when Chan gets back to the villa from swimming and finds you chatting with the new guy in the bathroom.

Chan lingers at the doorway to catch glimpses of the conversation, catching him compliments you and you're laughing at him.

"I think there's something between us," Nick says.

"You think?"

Nick laughs and says, "I just can tell."

You're only softly laughing and not denying it. Chan decides that it's time to enter the scene so he walks into the bathroom not saying anything but gets himself a towel from the rack.

Chan turns around and looks at you, slightly nodding at Nick. The uncomfortable forcing Nick to leave the bathroom which is the only right decision there is.

You're slyly smiling at him as you lean against the sink, "Hey..."

Chan doesn't answer but keeps drying his body with the towel. He wants to see what you're going to do with this suffocating silence.

You come up to him and slip your hands under his arm, hugging him, looking up at him with your puppy eyes. You try to get his attention by kissing his neck and placing a wet kiss on his collarbone.

"Mmh... salty," you say with a giggle.

Without warning, he hoists you up and carries you on his shoulder. He slaps on the back of your thigh while looking at you through the reflection in the mirror.

"Bad girl!" He slaps you again on the other thigh, sending you squealing and laughing with your head hung upside down behind him, "You bad, bad girl!"

He slaps your ass cheek this time and asks you again, "Funny, huh?"

Yet you keep laughing, only grabbing at his arm for support. Chan turns his head to bite on the flesh of your ass cheek, "Is it still funny?" He asks again.

"Uh-huh!" You cheekily answer.

-

CHRIS: She's really bad... I need to tame her. Wish me luck though [Grins]

-

Lana throws a welcome party for the new guests and everyone is wearing red for the theme.

Chan wears a sleeveless top with his dark slacks while you're dressed in a red dress with a low neckline that barely covers your breasts.

However, the party can't stop the imminent threat of Lana telling everyone about the things you both did last night. Chan can only mentally prepare himself for it and gulps his drink in silence.

"So, what do DJs actually do?" You suddenly ask him, sitting on his lap like always.

Chan remembers he once mentioned his job as a music producer but you only focused on his side job as a DJ, "Huh?" He asks in confusion since you asked out of the blue.

You put your drink away and put your hand on his shoulder, "You guys made the mix beforehand, right? So when you're on the stage, you know DJing, you just need to play that mix," you concisely put what a DJ does as if it sounded that simple.

Chan can tell you everything there is about DJing that is more complex than what you've just said but he can only laugh at it and it helps him to take his mind off things, "Yeah, kind of."

You squeeze his shoulder and say, "If that's the case then I want to be a DJ too."

He rubs his hand down your spine and rests it on the arch of your back, "You can be whatever you want."

"Mmh," you hum as you sip your drink, "We can make a duo, you and me, DJing together."

Chan is having a good laugh about it when the music abruptly stops playing then the familiar chime comes in through the speakers.

"Please could everyone gather in the cabana immediately!"

-

CHRIS: Oh, fuck, I'm shitting it.

-

You're looking so calm sitting next to him, unaware of what's going to happen once the cone starts talking. Chan tries to put on a cool face as well, leaning back on his seat with his hand resting on your thigh.

"I've gathered you all to remind you that this retreat is for finding deeper connections, not just physical ones," Lana speaks.

The long pause between the lines is making Chan even more nervous, his hand is getting sweaty yet you hold it tightly on your lap.

"This information is not getting through to some guests. There has been a breach of the rules," Lana announces.

Alicia smacks her lips together and asks, "Who was it?"

The hunt for guilty faces is on and of course, everyone is looking at them. Chan is planning to admit it real quick, ripping the band-aid all at once but someone gets ahead of him.

"A while ago..." Iain says, "Literally a few minutes ago, I kissed Olivia."

Lola slaps her forehead and sighs, "Oh, my God!"

Olivia only shrugs in response, not showing any remorse or guilt on her part.

"The kiss has cost the group $6,000," Lana informs.

"Nice!" Lola adds a snide comment.

Everyone is pissed because Olivia spent some money when she has only been here for less than two days. Chan gets the picture of how things would be when he comes forward.

"Oh, I need another drink," Luke says.

"That is not all!" Lana makes everyone hold their breath once more.

-

CHRIS: Okay, here we go... [sighs]

-

"Last night, there was another breach of the rules."

There's no way out of it, everyone is going to know whether he decides to tell or not. Chan takes a deep breath and another one and...

"It was me," you confess.

"Oh, shit..." Pierre drags the curse word and leers at Chan.

Lola looks at you and asks, "What did you do this time, babe?"

You glance at Chan before looking back at everyone, "There was a kiss and..."

You lick your lips and hold on to his hand on your thigh, "I gave him a handy."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Jace exclaims, then bursts into laughter.

"We may as well go home. We have no money left!" Jane says with a dramatic sigh.

"I wanted to show Chris what he's been missing for going on that date, so... I'm sorry," you conclude with an apology.

It's not a good time to get lovey-dovey but he is swooning. You're fearlessly owning up to your mistakes and openly explaining the reason why you did it.

You may bring out the bad in him but he can see that there's a genuine connection there. He doesn't want to sit there and watch as everyone is attacking you.

"We're sorry, okay?" Chan apologizes once again on behalf of you.

Thankfully, Lana takes over the situation.

"What you did goes against the purpose of the retreat. Therefore a further $14,000 has been deducted from the prize fund," Lana comes up with the calculated damage.

Lola is groaning and squirming like someone has set her body on fire, "Oh, God!"

"The prize fund now stands at $135,000."

Chan grips your hand hearing how much money have lost from the initial amount and have a hard time reeling from it.

As if that wasn't enough of torture, Lana calls your name and his.

"You have broken most rules since arriving at the retreat. You must now prove that your connection is more than just purely physical."

You're looking at him and he sees panic in your eyes, kind of figuring out what Lana is going with it.

"You will face the ultimate test of chastity by spending the night alone in the private suite."

Chan gulps air and feels hot all of a sudden. Without looking, he can feel everyone's eyes are drilling holes in his head.

-

CHRIS: I want to prove to everyone that we do have a genuine connection but at the same time, we're going to the private suite... [whistles] it's going to be hard.

-

Everyone is emitting negative energy and that only makes Chan can't stand another second being in the same room with them.

"Please make your way to the suite!" Lana commands.

Chan shoots up from the sofa and offers his hand to help you get up, "Come on, babe!"

He just can't wait to get away from everyone and not be around them. He leads the way to the private suite that is located in a different part of the villa.

Chan slowly pushes the door to the suite and the smell of scented candles welcomes him. He holds the door open for you and you gasp at the sight of the big bed with a  silk sheet on it.

"Oh, they want us to fail, babe," you say as you slowly lay yourself down on the bed.

Chan stands at the end of the bed and looks at you, lying with rose petals scattered around you.

"So beautiful," he murmurs.

He puts his knee against the mattress to hover above you, taking his time to admire your beautiful face with admiration in his eyes, "Stop looking so beautiful!" He says in a frustrated tone.

You smile at him and draw his body closer, sending him toppled on top of you.

"So, tell me..." you lowly speak with your hand going under his top.

"Tell you what?" He says as he plants a soft kiss on your neck.

"What are we doing tonight, Chris?" You ask.

You rarely call him by his name but when you do, it does things to him. He has so many things he wants to do to you but sadly, they are all against the rules.

-

CHRIS: Lana wasn't kidding when she said it's the ultimate test... [shakes head] [sighs]

-

The bath is ready and Chan is leaning against the sink, watching you taking every piece of clothing off you.

You look confident in your body and that's just a whole different level of sexy to him. You're smiling, noticing that he's been ogling at your body, up and down, for so many times he lost count of it.

"Why are you just standing there?" You ask while twisting your hair and securing it with a hair claw.

He shakes his head with his cheeks blushed from how horny he is, "You're so gorgeous," he praises.

You come up to him and kiss him on the cheek, close enough to the corner of his mouth, "Don't make me wait."

You get in the tub first and slowly lower yourself into the warm, scented water to not slosh it out of the tub.

You fill two champagne flutes with the bubbly wine while Chan is removing his clothes in under a minute. You look at him as he stands there in all his glory. He notices the glance you made at his semi-hard cock.

"You like what you see?" He asks.

You pull your feet up so he can take the spot on the other end of the tub and then you can rest your feet on his legs.

"Oh, I want to get a taste now," you tell him with a flirty wink.

Chan bursts into laughter to mask how nervous he is inside. He's snaking his hand under your thigh to hold you there.

"You're hard right now," you remark out of nowhere.

It's obvious, he can even see right through the milky water that his cock is fully erected and you're not asking, you know it's true.

"What should we do about it?" He asks.

You sip your wine and lick your lips, "That depends on how much money we want to spend tonight," you tell him.

Oh fuck, it's going to be one hell of a night!

-

CHRIS: [Sighs] Uh... I think I need a loan statement.

-

Support my blog by kindly reblog, comment or tip me on my ko-fi!

taglist: @svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @septicrebel @cursed-mars-bars @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @tangylemonade @bluenights1899 @thisisnotstraight88 @elizalabs3 @avyskai @is2cb97 @simeonswhore @marvelous-llama @linovely @jisungsleftcheek @hanjisbeloved @luvsskzs @knowleeknow @army-stay-noel @djeniryuu @bigsobs4skz @toplinehyunjin @channies-luv @foxinnie8 @biribarabiribbaem @dalamjisung @moasworld @sherryblossom @fawnpeaks @lukeys-giggle @obeythemasters @primoppang @devilsmatches @skz-streamer @freckleboilix @idkluvutellme @laylasbunbunny @cherry-edibles @cutiespaghetti @yourmercibeaucoupsblog @hanjisunginc

[st0r-fruit]

Overlord Reader Hcs

A/N: Hi, this is my first time writing headcanons for reader, so please let me know if I made any mistakes! I made this because i thought it'd be nice and cool to have a reader as an overlord. A heads up that i haven't fully watched Hazbin so there might be inaccuracies.

You're an overlord, right? And not just an overlord, you're one of the richest, next to the Vee's.

You own a fine plaza of drugery and alcoholic, and a top quality successful companies of those. It's not a surprise, you're the overlord of substances and alcohol. Demons will pay MILLIONS of bucks to have a stash of your finest drugs.

You have a district on the border city zone in between the district's of the Vee's, Carmilla Carmine's and the inner city of Pentagram City. Your district is a melting pot of cultures due to being in the middle of other districts.

In a meeting with other Overlords, you'd take important notes and remind others if things drift away. That fight between Velvet and Camille? Yeah you had to break ice to ease tension before forgetting the main goal of the meeting.

Your seating position in meetings is on the right side of Rosie, your best friend.

Honestly? You're everybody's comfort buddy, even to Alastor. You bring in some comforting presence to other demons.

Relationships with other Overlords

Valentino is your top customer, ordering around 20 of your fine drugs, wine and fancy cigars. He is usually the one to make your stock reduced to little to nothing if he buys on a day. He doesn't trust any of the other companies who sells the exact items, even if you say it's excellent quality.

Technology in your small place is quite modern and techy, thanks to Vox. You flatter Vox on how advanced and cool his technology is, he usually is flustered and grumpy hearing that from you, but you know he likes it seeing that he gives you multiple rather big discounts on his products.

Your fashion culture is jumbled too. Making Velvette, the queen of fashion, questions each of your outfits. She's actually impressed, being able to mix and match right article of clothings. She gives you unsolicited advice on fashion, but you tried one of those once and BAM! Slayed 10x more with that advice. You'd took mental notes of her advices and thanked her whenever you can.

Speaking of clothing, you liked shopping and browsing in Rosie's Emporium. YOU are one of the favorite customers of Rosie. She loves your interest on 1910's fashion, frequently treating you on some products. You two would gossip on the emporium, spilling teas and laughing your asses out from all the stories.

Zestial likes to visit your plaza for wine tasting, loving all of your finest selections of wine and a surprisingly rare collection of teas (with cheese! You were prepared with the teas incase he didn't like any of the wine). You and him likes to talk about improvement of each districts with a side of said wine and cheese. Oh how he'd rant to you about Velvette's attitude and you'd pat his back.

Carmilla is another one of your customers, frequently ordering drugs and medicine from you. The drugs you produced somehow made her swifter at combat and confidence. On the other hand, medicines you produced was strong and high quality, it kept her from being irritated of Velvette.

Alastor was...quite the intresting demon in your opinion. Although, you try to not get any troubles with him, so acquaintance is the perfect word for the two of you. He once visited your alcohol parlor to find a nice wine to side with his mom's jambalaya. Of course you helped him, with your naturally charming personality and helpfulness, the radio demon got his wine. The next day, you received a homeade jambalaya soup from him, as a thanks for finding the nice wine. Maybe he's not that bad?

I hope you all like it!! Let me know if you like a part 2! Or do let me know if there's any mistake!

(holyshit i reached the tag limit guy oh wow)

[aunt-bridget]

Night In With Aunt Bridget

It was a pleasant evening with Aunt Bridget. A few drinks with her favourite nephew and an opportunity to relax for the weekend. They laughed and joked and she sat, crossing those long, booted legs…..something that her nephew was paying close attention to.

The nephew adored his Aunt. She was the younger and glamorous sister of his frumpy, strict mother. Her dress sense was sexy and very appealing to a young man. He stirred uneasily as Aunt Bridget once again crossed her legs. She noticed his discomfort as she sipped her wine…..he in turn took a massive gulp of his drink as she asked him what the matter was.

He blurted it all out. The sissy fantasy he harboured since being a teen. The desire to wear lovely clothes, be made up and to shamefully be forced into sissy bondage and whoring. Too much drink had loosened the boy’s tongue and Aunt Bridget nodded sympathetically. You see, she knew all about his little habits. Many previous visits resulted in her panty drawer being disturbed, her shoe collection had also been touched. Her special dress up box was left open, with her range of wigs obviously taken out. Aunt Bridget loved to play all manner of games with her gentlemen friends and her wardrobe reflected those fancies.

With the nephew looking slightly dazed at how he confessed so readily, Aunt Bridget rested a perfectly manicured hand on his knee and told him to come upstairs with her. They entered her bedroom and she flung the wardrobe door open along with her panty and nylon drawer. She commanded him to pick an outfit, some underwear, heels and a wig of choice. With a trembling hand, he selected a mustard yellow sweater, short black skirt, patent heels and dark shiny nylons. She ordered him to pull on the nylons first as she knew the feeling against him would be heaven, and she was right as he then put on the pink panties he knew so well, with the strawberry blonde wig finally placed on his head.

Aunt Bridget smiled and with some help, he had an impressive rack stuffed under the sweater to go along with the rest of the ensemble. The makeup was applied and little sissy nephew was seated in front of the dressing table mirror hypnotised by his reflection.

But things weren’t going to end there were they? The bondage fantasy was now the true elephant in the room…..and dearest Aunty revealed the box hidden at the bottom of the wardrobe. Nephew had always been very curious, but the container was always locked. Aunt Bridget went to her jewellery box and found the key, slipping it into the lock and lifting the lid. The box was a haven of bondage equipment….gags, cuffs, rope, bandage wrap and tape. There were other things in there that her innocent nephew wasn’t sure of, but they would be explained soon enough.

The rope was expertly applied around his torso and legs. To nephew’s shame, his cock was bulging through the pink panties and Aunty hitched the skirt up to confirm her suspicions. She felt the offending lump and he had leaked a little through the nylons and panties. She tutted as she pulled her own panties off and balled them up. He opened his mouth without any prompting and she placed her warm, moist underwear behind his slutty red lips. The red bandage was wrapped tightly to seal the gag in place and he moaned softly, struggling against the ropes and trying to dry hump Aunty’s booted legs. Another tut was his reward as Aunt Bridget sat down on the bed and retrieved her phone.

She snapped a few pics of sissy nephew and told him that his fantasy would be a reality tonight. Aunty knew some friends who loved their games too….a charming couple who were very open minded. She made nephew watch as she sent the photos to her friends and the resulting replies. He whined at the thought of being seen like this and who knows what else. He stared down at his stiffening cock, betrayed by the thought of being a used sissy.

Aunty gently kissed his gagged mouth and produced a gleaming steel chastity cage. It seems she was more than used to dealing with these situations and she shushed the wretched slut as she called her sister. Apparently, sweet nephew will be staying over tonight.

So don’t wait up, Mother.

[cherryredlove]

☆ you spin me right round ☆

Modern! Record shop owner! au Aemond Targaryen x Bar owner! reader SMUT

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

You're the blooming business owner that owns the chic new bar in town, The Alchemist's Guild. All that's left to do is befriend your sourpuss neighbour, the cool owner of the music shop Targaryen Tracks. Maybe a crisis will do the trick?

Word Count: 1.9k

Themes: SMUT, 18+, rough oral smex, pearl necklace, sex in semi-public place

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Owning a bar was always a dream of yours, and now that dream has finally come true. The place you purchased is a hidden gem on the artsy quarter of the city of King's Landing, nestled between eclectic shops and quirky businesses, with just enough foot traffic to guarantee interest. You’ve christened it The Alchemist’s Guild, and you hoped it'll become the hottest bar in the area soon.

Every bottle and glass has been carefully selected, and you’ve spent countless hours transforming the run-down space into a chic, cosy haven for anyone seeking to unwind. Edison bulbs hang from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the polished wooden surfaces and plush seating. The shelves behind the bar are stocked with an impressive array of gins and wines, and the scent of fresh herbs and citrus fills the air.

The only hurdle now? Making friends with the neighbours, particularly the one who runs the music shop next door, Targaryen Tracks.

You’ve seen him a few times, Aemond Targaryen, always dressed impeccably in black, with silver hair and an ever-present scowl etched onto his face. His shop is a world of its own, filled with vintage records and obscure music that you occasionally hear through the walls.

Today, after a couple of good days of business, you decide it’s time to introduce yourself properly. Maybe you can even convince him to partner up for some musical collaborations, adding a unique touch to your bar’s atmosphere. With a deep breath, you step into Targaryen Tracks, the door chiming softly as you enter.

Aemond looks up from behind the counter, his single blue eye meeting yours with a curious, almost guarded expression. He nods in acknowledgement, though his lips barely form a smile.

"Hi, I’m Y/N," you say, offering a friendly smile. "I just opened the bar next door, The Alchemist’s Guild. Thought I’d come by and say hello."

"Aemond," he replies curtly, giving you a once-over before returning his gaze to the record he’s examining.

The shop is a paradise for any music lover, with rows upon rows of records neatly organized by genre and era. The atmosphere is nostalgic, and you can’t help but feel a pang of admiration for the meticulous care he’s put into curating his collection. You too take great pride in organisation and decoration.

You take a moment to look around, pretending to browse. The silence stretches between you, and you rack your brain for something to say, anything to break the ice.

"You’ve got quite the collection here," you venture, picking up a random record and pretending to study it. "I’ve been thinking about hosting some vinyl nights at the bar. You know, set up a record player, get some more out there stuff playing."

Aemond’s eye flickers with mild interest as he raises an eyebrow. "That so?"

You nod eagerly, hoping to engage him further. "Yeah! I think it’d be great to have something a bit more unique than just playlists. It’s a vibe, you know?"

He studies you for a moment, considering your words. "I suppose it could work," he admits, a hint of intrigue in his tone. "What kind of records are you looking to play?"

"Honestly, I’m open to anything that sets the right mood," you reply with enthusiasm. "Jazz, blues, rock, maybe even some classical if it fits."

Aemond nods, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I might have a few recommendations."

A spark of hope flickers inside you. Perhaps this sourpuss neighbor of yours isn’t as aloof as he seems. Maybe there's a chance for some collaboration after all.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Business at The Alchemist’s Guild is booming. You’ve managed to create a buzz around town, and the place is packed almost every night. The combination of exquisite drinks and the cosy atmosphere has made your bar a go-to spot for many locals and visitors alike. It's become a favourite with the artsy scene in the quarter, putting you firmly on the map.

But tonight, as you’re hosting bustling Saturday evening, disaster strikes. The trusty sound system crackles and dies with a sad whimper. Panic sets in as you realize that without music, the bar loses a significant part of its charm.

As the clamor of conversation fills the air, you frantically fiddle with the cables and speakers, hoping for a miracle. But nothing works.

Just when you're about to lose hope, an idea strikes.

"Hold down the fort for me, Dyana!" You call out to the bartender you employed.

You dash out of the bar and head straight to Targaryen Tracks, where Aemond is about to close up for the night.

Aemond looks up at you as you barge into the shop, mildly surprised to see you so flustered.

"Aemond, I need a huge favour," you blurt out, trying to catch your breath. "My sound system just broke down, and I have a packed bar with no music. Can you help me out?"

He pauses. "What do you need?"

"Your records," you say quickly, hope rising in your chest. "And your record player and speakers. Just for tonight. I’ll give you free drinks for a week in return."

He narrows his eye, contemplating the offer. After a moment, he nods. "Fine. But you handle the equipment with care."

Relief floods through you. "Thank you, thank you so much! I promise I'll be careful. You can even handle changing the records if that's better. "

Together, you gather a selection of records, and Aemond helps you carry them over to the bar. With his expertise, you set up the record player, and soon, the rich, warm tones of vinyl fill the space, transforming the atmosphere instantly.

The patrons love it, and you can feel the tension leaving your shoulders as the night goes on smoothly. True to your word, you offer Aemond a drink on the house as a gesture of gratitude. He graciously accepts your Greyjoy Gin and tonic with a small smile.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

As the night draws to a close, the last of your customers finally trickle out, leaving the bar empty save for you and Aemond. The soft glow of the Edison bulbs casts a cosy light over the room, and the record player softly spins its last tune.

"Thank you again," you say, leaning against the bar, feeling the exhaustion of the night catching up to you. "You really saved me tonight."

Aemond shrugs, a faint smirk on his lips. "It was interesting. Your patrons seem to appreciate good music."

You laugh softly, nodding in agreement. "I owe you. Seriously, free drinks for a week."

He takes a sip of his drink, regarding you with an appraising gaze. "Maybe we can make this a regular thing. Vinyl nights, as you said. I can curate the music."

"That would be amazing," you reply, feeling your heart race a little. "I think it’d be a hit."

As you tidy up the bar, Aemond helps, and the two of you chat more easily than before. You discover that beneath his stoic exterior, he has a genuine passion for music and a dry sense of humour that you find surprisingly charming.

With the bar finally clean and ready for the next day, you both take a moment to relax, leaning against the counter again.

As the last record winds down to silence, an unexpected tension fills the air. The kind that lingers between two people until someone is brave enough to try.

It’s Aemond who makes the first move. His eye locks onto yours, and you see a flicker of something you hadn't quite noticed before. You feel your body light up.

Before you know it, he’s closing the distance between you, his presence commanding and electric. He pauses, giving you a moment to stop him if you wish, but you find yourself drawn in by the intensity of his gaze.

And then his lips are on yours, firm and insistent, sending a jolt down your spine. You kiss him back, matching his fervour with your own.

Aemond’s hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, and you respond by wrapping your arms around his neck, grasping at his hair. His mouth is hot and heady, and you moan into his as his hips grind against yours.

You barely notice as you’re backed against the bar, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of the kiss. Aemond’s hands are exploring now, tracing a path down your sides, and you let out a soft sigh of approval, urging him on.

The kiss deepens, his touch is confident, and you can feel the hardness of his cock against your tender pussy. Your body reacts, arching into him to relieve your aching sex.

Aemond unzips your trousers, moaning at how wet you are, before gliding his fingers into your soaked heat. You cling to him, mewling, and bit down hard onto his neck. Aemond’s long fingers move inside you, fingering you with a beckoning motion. His eye rolls back as you grasp his cock in your hand, massaging through his trousers.

Aemond hoists you up onto the bar's counter, kissing you roughly before kneeling, facing your soaked pussy. Your hands grip his hair, urging him onto your heat. His tongue flicks out to lick your juices, and the moan you let out spurs him to bury his face.

His long nose is shoved against your clit, rubbing you in the mot perfect way as his tongue laps you expertly. Your thighs squeeze his head tightly. One of his hands grips your soft thigh hard, the other resumes its ministrations inside your tight pussy, making you choke and feel the hot lick of pleasure push you higher and higher. You grind against his face, Aemond sucking your clit with suchbvigour that you cry out, cumming hard on him. You cream against his tongue, and he laps it all up with a deep moan.

Once your head has stopped swimming at the pleasure of your high, you wobble down and fall to your knees. His thick cock sits right in front of your face, and he slowly parts your lips with the red cockhead. It's huge, you run out of mouth room pretty quickly as his hands grip your hair. You moan, the vibration making his hips stutter, and begin to suck him hard.

"Your lips look so beautiful wrapped arouud me baby," he rasps out. "I'll cum if you carry on."

Enthused, you bob your head faster, hollowing out your cheeks and rubbing your tongue right against the slit of his tip. When you fondle his balls with your hands and swallow hard, Aemond releases a strangled cry of pleasure, face-fucking you hard and fast. He lets out an unintelligible moan as he cums. Some of it leaks down your throat, but he pulls out to cum all over your face and neck. You gasp at the hot white ropes of cum that decorate your collar bone.

Panting, he helps you up, swiping his cum off with a finger and parting your lips for you to swallow it. He kisses you gently, salty and sweet.

"Want to come back to mine?" He asks, eye glinting. You nod eagerly, kissing him sweetly. His hands hold you firmly, and you thank the Gods for your sound system breaking.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

AN: save me modern aemond targaryen save me! love writing that so gimme ur feedback and send any requests! if u like this sort of stuff check out my masterlist!

[fear-is-truth]

invisible touch. ── patrick bateman x reader

⟢ WARNINGS: mdni 18+ | soft dom!patrick・foul language・attempted murder・oral (f!receiving)・anāl fīngėring ・ english is not my first language so bear with me・not proofread ・ reader discretion is advised .ᐟ

⟢ TAGS: bateman’s pov・fem!reader

⟢ WORD COUNT: 2,154

a/n: can we all please ignore how ooc this is? thank you very much and deepest apologies to mr. ellis

part I : void

INVISIBLE TOUCH.

I let her enter my apartment first, my gaze sweeping over her as she steps inside. She’s tried, I’ll give her that. The dress she’s wearing now—a sleek number by Versace—hugs her curves in all the right places, in a way that makes me think about what’s underneath, not out of sentimentality, but in the way I’m calculating how easy it would be to peel it off.

Her tits and ass are more pronounced than I remembered, she truly is a hardbody, a total babe. I don’t know why I even doubted it in the first place. Maybe it’s just that the dress is doing its job. The neckline plunges just low enough to draw attention without being too slutty. It hints at the softness of her fine breasts, the delicate curve of her collarbone, which catches the light just so. The deep, rich color complements her skin tone, and her shoes—Stuart Weitzman, I am almost certain—are a marked improvement from the Blahniks. Her hair looks better too, not perfect, but better. It falls in soft waves around her face, much better than the last time when she looked like she’d just rolled out of bed.

The makeup is subtle but effective. The red lipstick is a nice touch, bold but not over the top, and it matches the colour of her nails, which I notice are painted in a shade of crimson that I’d like to see smeared on something a bit more interesting than a wine glass. She’s elevated herself. A commendable attempt.

She moves with a hint of nervousness, more reserved than I expected, maybe even a little nervous. Good. I prefer it when they’re nervous. It means they’re paying attention. Her eyes dart around the room, taking in the minimalistic, almost sterile decor. Everything in my apartment is carefully hand-picked—not a single thing out of place: devoid of clutter, of warmth, of life. It’s perfect, but it’s also hollow, just like me.

Her presence here, though, disrupts the balance. It’s intriguing, this sense of disturbance. I can’t decide if I want to savour it or eradicate it.

“Nice place,”

she comments, her voice small, almost swallowed by the expanse of the room. There’s no awe, no pretense of being impressed. Just a simple statement, like she’s acknowledging the sky is blue. It irritates me. But that irritation is quickly overridden by something else as I imagine her in something different—an all-white ensemble, Alexander McQueen, perhaps. Or maybe Chanel—clean lines, simple, crisp fabric, the kind of outfit that screams purity and innocence. But in my mind, that white is quickly tainted, soaked in deep, crimson blood soaking through the delicate material. It clings to her body, and I’m not even sure whose blood it is. Hers? Mine? Someone else’s? The thought sends a jolt down my groin, and I have to blink to bring myself back to the present.

“Thank you,”

I reply, keeping my tone even. I turn on my heel, walking across the polished oak floor with purpose. The living room is immaculate, of course. Every detail is perfectly curated, from the glass-top coffee table with oak legs by Turchin sitting in front of the sofa, to the magazine rack by Gio Ponti, which I pass as I move to the complete stereo system (CD player, tape decker, tuner, amplifier) by Sansui with six-foot Sovereign 2001 speakers in Brazilian rosewood, selecting a CD from the neatly arranged collection. Hundreds upon hundreds of them, stacked and lined up in a large white-oak shelf, all of them alphabetically listed. I notice her eyes flicker with curiosity as I slide the disc into the player. Genesis, ‘Invisible Touch.’ The music fills the room, and I wait for her to say something—anything—that might give me an insight into what’s going on in that pretty little head of hers. She doesn’t comment right away, just listens, fingers fidgeting with the strap of her black Yves Saint Laurent handbag.

“It’s… Phil Collins, right?”

“Yes. Genesis. Collins took the band in a more commercial direction, but there’s still something about their music. Would you like a drink? A fine Chardonnay perhaps?”

She nods, and I walk over to the sleek bar cart by the wall. I pour two glasses of Chardonnay. I hand her one, and she takes it with a polite smile, her fingers brushing against mine for a brief second. Raising the glass to her lips, she relaxes slightly, perhaps thinking she’s passed some kind of unspoken test. She’s still perched on the edge of my white Roche Bobois Improviste Sofa, her posture demure, but I can tell she’s gaining a bit confidence.

“They’re one of the most accomplished pop-rock groups of this age.” I continue, circling back around the couch. She takes a small sip of her wine as she listens, clearly relieved that she got the band right.

“This album, in particular, is a masterpiece. ‘Invisible Touch’ was a turning point for Genesis, both commercially and artistically.”

My voice is smooth, conversational, as I begin to move, casually drifting behind the couch.

“The way they incorporated synths and drum machines into their sound was… groundbreaking.”

As I speak, I head towards the kitchen, my eyes locked on her. She’s listening intently, her attention entirely focused on keeping up with the conversation. Perfect. My hand reaches out to the kitchen drawer, fingers sliding it open without a sound. The cool metal of the letter opener greets me, and I wrap my hand around it, feeling the familiar weight.

Her tone is soft, almost apologetic, like she’s letting me off the hook.

“You didn’t really get us a reservation at Dorsia, did you?”

The honesty takes me by surprise, just as much as the audacity of her noticing and choosing to bring it up. For a moment, I’m genuinely impressed. Evelyn would have thrown a hissy fit. Courtney would have been too high on pills to even notice. And Jean would’ve just played along, too eager to please. I freeze for a fraction of a second before recovering, letting out a low, amused laugh. She caught that, did she? I should’ve known.

“Dorsia’s impossible to get into on short notice, but you came anyway,” I allow, lowering the letter opener just as she turns her head to glance at me.

“Yes,” she murmurs, her gaze dropping to her glass. “But I… I still wanted to see you.”

There’s a slight smile on her lips—polite, non-confrontational. She knows, but she’s not making a big deal out of it. How considerate.

“Do you know what happens to people who get too close to me?”

“…What?”

“Nothing good,”

I answer, my voice low, almost a whisper. I see a flicker of fear in her eyes, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she holds my gaze. I can’t decide if she’s brave or simply naive. She turns back and takes a small sip of her wine then sets it on the coaster from the Mauna Kea Hotel in Hawaii without being reminded. Good girl. Her posture has relaxed further, and she crosses one leg over the other, the movement drawing my eyes down to those killer heels again. She’s more interesting than I gave her credit for. I raise the letter opener at the back of her skull. I could do it, right now. It would be easy. So easy. But as I look back at her, I hesitate.

I imagine her in that white gown again—pure, almost virginal. The fantasy shifts; she’s drenched in blood that I’ve decided doesn’t belong to her. I realise I don’t want to share her. Not like I did with Sabrina and Christie. I don’t want anyone else defiling her, eating her cunt or licking her asshole, or whatever. I want her all to myself.

“Do you know…”

The weight of it in my hand is a reassuring reminder of the control I have. I could end this conversation whenever I want. But I don’t. Not yet. I need to make sure. Tiptoeing back to the kitchen, I open the drawer and place the letter opener back. But kept the drawer open.

“…that Ed Gein used to make lampshades out of human skin?”

Her head snaps up, shoulders tensing up for just a second before she catches herself. She takes a sip of her wine, hiding behind the glass. For a moment, I think she’ll nervously laugh like a brainless bimbo. Or give me a look of outright disgust. But then again, she surprises me.

“Yes,” she says almost shyly, without looking back at me.

“He’s the one who made belts out of human nipples, isn’t he?”

I pause, my fingers tracing the cool metal of the hammer that lies beside the letter opener in the drawer. I imagine the blunt force—her skull caving in like paper maché, grey matter spilling out like confetti. Then I think about her nipples. How they’d feel between my lips. How they’d look sewn on a Salvatore Ferragamo belt. The thought does not excite me in the slightest.

“…Yes, he is.”

Feeling a bit dejected but for some inexplicable reason—hopeful, I slide the drawer shut.

•••

We are on the Futon. She’s fully naked, long, toned legs draped over my shoulders. I am on my knees sucking and licking at her pussy while jerking myself off. Having already come twice, her clit swollen and engorged with blood, she’s trembling like a leaf, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps and making small kittenish noises. I can tell she’s trying to hold herself together, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But it’s slipping, and she knows it.

I lift up her ass and she makes a soft moan, squirming half-heartedly. But still malleable enough. I gather her juices and lightly trace the rim of her asshole, she contracts. The wetness is enough for me to side my index finger into her, sinking right to the knuckle. She sighs and starts to finger herself as I continue to jerk off.

“O-oh God,”

The muscles of her thighs clench around both sides of my head and her hands are in my hair as I move my finger in and out of her tight asshole, but I don’t snap at her or bite her out of irritation as I normally would with other needy girls. She’s worth the effort, for recognising Phil Collins and remembering to use the coaster and knowing about Ed Gein or maybe it’s just the Halcion and Chardonnay I downed half an hour ago that’s making me feel a bit sentimental and a bit more generous than I should be. I raise my head to see that she’s looking down at me through heavy lashes, I can see it in her eyes, in the way she’s looking at me—embarrassed, pleading, desperate, and it’s amazing.

Retracting my finger from her, I reach for the condom and the tube of water-soluble spermicidal lubricant on the nightstand and tear open the package with slick fingers and the aid of my teeth. My dick still rock-hard, I apply a small dab of it inside the tip of the condom, carefully slather it on the latex before slipping it easily on my cock.

“Oh my… p-please—Patrick…

She mewls again, needy as a sex kitten and she hasn’t even said lewd things like “fuck me”, which is going off the script but still a refreshing change. I decide to forgive her impatience.

“Yeah?” I say as I slide my huge and erect cock smoothly into her hot, tight cunt. My hips pistoning in its own crazed momentum as I lean down to kiss her. Her lips are soft, yielding beneath mine, and there’s something almost chaste in the way she kisses back, hesitant yet curious. I know she could taste her own juices as I shove my tongue past her teeth and down her throat and the idea is incredibly hot. There is a warmth there that’s completely different from Evelyn’s cold detachment or Courtney’s mechanical compliance. This one feels… alive. She moans into my mouth as her pussy squeezes tightly around my cock like a pair of warm, fitting gloves from Hermès and I can feel the familiar tingle of an orgasm from the base of my balls spreading to my dick.

It’s strange how she alone can make me feel this way, even with a goddamn condom on. Without half an hour of watching her have sex with another (preferably blonde) girl.

She cries out my name and gushes messily around my cock, seconds before I follow suit. Rolling off her and panting for breath, I lie on my back. Totally spent but my glistening cock is still half hard, aching from the powerful force of my ejaculation. She rests her head on my toned chest, rubbing her cheek against my skin like a content kitten and I think about how nice it feels. Then I think about how owning a tanning bed would be hip luxury if only I have enough room in my apartment, before falling into a dreamless slumber.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[dekariosclan]

Hello my friend!

So we all know how amazing and wonderful Gale is, how kind, good, caring and funny he is. He is, in so many ways, a perfect man.

He is, however, only human. I have the tendency to idealise him, and forget this.

My question to you is - what do you think his flaws are? Both generally and as a husband/life partner.

💜

Ohhh I love this question so much ❤️ I am a hopeless romantic, and I adore Gale’s charming, sweet, loving adorkableness! He is truly amazing—but I can confirm NOBODY (and no relationship) is ever 100% perfect.

The thing about a long-term committed relationship is that, while your partner’s charms make the relationship wonderful, their flaws are what make it REAL. And that’s just as important.

So let’s talk about our charming Gale’s less-than-charming aspects, shall we?

[warning: this went from a short & concise answer to a rambling dissertation, please prepare yourself accordingly! Also I know this ask/answer was supposed to make Gale a little less perfect and help lessen our obsession, but uhhhh, I seem to have veered hard in the opposite direction 😂]

———

First off: The Pomposity™️ (I’m not 100% certain that’s even a real word but you know what I mean right) So we all know that by the end of the game, (human) Gale has come to accept himself as he is, and decided to henceforth be known as ‘Gale Dekarios, a most brilliant wizard of intentionally limited reknown.’ He’s come a lonnng way in cutting down his ego, but let’s be honest: some of it will never truly go away. And that’s fair, because he IS brilliant, and he IS talented, and he IS extremely passionate about magic.

…but it’s tough to remember all that and give him a pass when that usually-oh-so-adorable-finger-in-the-air is now aimed at YOU, as he declares that ‘after all, he IS an expert on [*insert topic here*] because he WAS awarded [*insert scholarly award here*] from the one and only [*insert impressive Blackstaff Academy professor here.*]’

And all you wanted was for your opinion to be taken into consideration regarding the wine selection at dinner.

———

Second: The Disarray / Messiness. Gale has a brilliant mind, one that he applies full throttle to any and all situations: concentration on magic spells, lance board strategy, calculations, poring over ancient tomes, and even figuring out how to cook something edible out of rotting fish heads and some moldy cheese (no veggies, though!)

The problem is, while his mind is brilliant and he will keep it laser-focused on his chosen subject at that current moment, from a day-to-day perspective he is straight-up scatter brained with all the things he has his hands in. We can see this in his vision of his tower: BOOKS. BOOKS EVERYWHERE. Some stacked in piles, some shoved onto shelves, some left open on the page he was reading when he got distracted, etc.

We also get confirmation of this from Tara in the epilogue:

Tara: The way he leaves his potions in absolute disarray—I know for certain he wasn’t raised in a barn, but you’d never know it.

It’s one thing to have books & potions & scrolls scattered throughout his library and sitting room—you have no complaints against that, you HAVE moved in with/married a wizard, after all—but to find them in the kitchen, wine cellar, even occasionally stuffed into your own wardrobe? It’s a bit much.

TLDR: Our rizzard is a hot mess.

———

Which leads us into perhaps his biggest flaw: The Fussiness.

So about all those books everywhere, on everything, all at once? You didn’t try and ARRANGE them or organize them for him, did you?…You did?! Oh, gods! No, no, he had an ORDER to them, you see, and he knew that the exact spell he needed could be found in the third book down in the stack next to the piano, page 453, why did you ever decide to move it?

Well, you explain as patiently as you can, it was in the way, and frankly you could tell from the dust on it that he hadn’t touched it in several yea—

BY ELMINSTER’S ELBOW, did you ALPHABETIZE his illusion scrolls??! Oh, for the love of—!

You get the picture.

There would undoubtedly be moments when you found yourself fully exasperated by this man and his exacting, fussy nature.

———

All that being said: true fights would be rare.

The occasional huffy remark or quickly-forgotten gripe would occur now and then as in any relationship, but a real, anger-filled argument? With heightened emotions and hurt feelings? Rare indeed.

The only thing bigger than Gale’s brain is his heart. And while his mind is dedicated to a great many things as mentioned above (magic studies, lance board, etc) his heart is 100% dedicated TO YOU, and you alone. So on those rare occasions after a fight has occurred, it does not take long for him to come down from the heat of the moment and realize, oh, hells, he’s been an ass, hasn’t he?

He knows you love him. His anxiety about not being enough for you has long since disappeared, and he’s calmed his worries that you would ever leave him, but still…there’s always a lingering concern that maybe you’ll grow distant from him after an argument.

If you are in the wrong and he is certain of it, he will be stiffly polite until you offer an apology, and then he will be taking you in his arms, kissing you passionately and telling you ‘all is forgiven my love, let’s never speak of this again’ (and trying hard to hide his relief that you apologized first, because he was not sure how long he would be able to hold out and stay mad at you.)

If HE is in the wrong, though? And you are truly mad at him? And he knows he really stuck his foot in it? Oh, boy.

You’ll be treated to an apology so eloquent it would make poets weep, and it will come packaged with hand-holding, pouting, pleading, and Gale getting down on his (bad) knees.

And if you’re still mad at him after that?

Well, then you’ll have to complete a gauntlet harder than anything Shar could ever throw at you. You’ll have to try and stay angry, explain your anger, AND explain to Gale why he won’t be easily forgiven, all while looking directly at this:

And this:

AND THIS:

…

…needless to say you will be failing, and hard.

Not that you mind, because the make-up sex will be absolutely phenomenal. Gale doesn’t just want to repair your loving bond after you’ve had an argument, he wants to improve it. Which requires much study and experimentation, of course.

And for awhile afterwards, all will be bliss again.

…until you find a pile of scrolls shoved under your side of the bed, and some open books scattered across your dresser, and you decide it time to do some organizing. ———

So yes, my friend. Gale definitely does have some flaws, and at some point they WOULD drive you crazy in any sort of relationship you have with him. Gale is wonderful, Gale is loving, but Gale isn’t perfect!!

…but when he takes you in his arms after you’ve made up, and his mouth is hungrily devouring yours, and he’s murmuring words of adoration against your skin as he trails his kisses down your neck, chest, hips—

Nevermind! I take it all back. He’s perfect. 😂

[navybrat817]

Down to Business

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You meet Andy for lunch and discuss a new potential job. Word Count: Almost 3.1k Warnings: Reader is broke (is that a warning?), sugar daddy offer, slightly d/irty thoughts, slight insecurities, slight power imbalance if you squint, inner monologue, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Header - yours truly A/N: More of my Terms and Conditions AU! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby and @flordeamatista (thanks!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You knew you were out of your element the moment you stood in front of the restaurant. The pillars and steps were reminiscent of a courthouse, hence the name, but more lavish in design with the ornate marble. It seemed to tower over you, silently judging you for daring to set foot there. You didn't belong there, even if Andy had asked you to join him.

No. I'm not going to let him or myself down by chickening out.

Straightening the skirt of your dress and checking your folder once more to make sure you had your resume, you held your head high as you went inside. You wouldn't pretend to belong in a place this nice, but you refused to belittle yourself. You were smart, determined, and capable, which was how you got your old job. Whatever job Andy had to offer you, you'd make sure he knew you could handle it.

"Hello," you greeted the hostess. "I'm here to meet Andy Barber."

"Yes, he's expecting you," she smiled, giving you a quick once over. The dark blue dress you wore was, you hoped, nice and professional enough for the place and Andy. "Follow me, please."

The emptiness of the restaurant was eerily quiet and made you feel almost uncomfortable before you spotted Andy seated in the middle of the main room. Power clung to him as he rose to his feet, perfectly at ease as he buttoned his suit jacket. You would have thought you were a lamb headed for the slaughter if not for the gentle smile on his face. Your breath hitched before you smiled back and you were thankful you didn't trip over your feet.

"It's good to see you," he said, moving around to pull out your seat. "Thank you for joining me."

You were used to the barrier of the diner counter between the two of you and it hit you just how large and imposing he was up close. The man could break you if he wanted with his size, but it was the gentle smile on his face and the intensity of his blue eyes that struck you as he helped you into the seat. The gesture told you he was a gentleman, but his aura said something lurked beneath the surface.

"Thank you for asking me," you said, his musky cologne lingering as he went back to his chair. "I hope you weren't waiting long."

After Andy invited you to lunch, you downed some coffee and immediately got ready. You wanted to give yourself plenty of time so you wouldn't be late. It would've given a bad impression if you couldn't even be on time for lunch.

"Not at all," he said, the glittering chandelier above him giving him an otherworldly glow. "You look lovely."

Your heart raced as you caught him gazing at you. A man as attractive as Andy Barber calling you lovely felt like a dream. The crackling tension had to be your imagination. Wishful thinking.

"Thank you," you said, wondering if you should tell him how handsome he looked.

No. Don't flirt with your potential boss. Lusting after him won't do me any good.

You opted instead to look over the menu. You didn't see any prices and wondered how much everything cost. Or maybe people didn't care about what they spent at a place this nice. Since you had no clue what the cheapest selection would be, you decided to go with the entree that sounded the most appetizing.

"They have a nice wine selection if you're interested," Andy offered.

You glanced up and locked eyes with him. It was hard to get a read on him, but he likely had a good poker face from practicing law and his business ventures. You wondered how others reacted when he focused his attention on them. You refused to look away.

"I think I'll stick with water," you smiled. Not that there was anything wrong with having a drink in the middle of the day, but you were there to discuss business. He could have offered it as a test and you didn't want to fail. "I appreciate the offer though."

Andy hummed and leaned back in his seat. He didn't look upset, which was a good sign. "Nervous?"

I'm just sitting in one of the nicest places in the city with the most gorgeous man I ever laid eyes on who could change my future. No nerves at all.

"What makes you say that?" you asked.

"Your posture," he answered as he gestured to you. "Tension in your shoulders."

"Oh," you said, only a little surprised that he noticed. "Is it wrong to say that I am?"

"No, because I told you I appreciate honesty," he reminded you. "May I ask why you're nervous? What happened to being 'cautiously optimistic'?"

He listened to me.

"Because," you began, setting your hands in your lap so he wouldn't see you twist your fingers together. "I want to make a good impression and I don't want you to regret asking me to this lunch, especially since you went through the trouble of having them open the place."

I want my luck to turn around.

"If you hadn't made a good impression on me to begin with, I wouldn't have asked you to lunch," he spoke, reaching for your folder and opening it as your shoulders relaxed a bit. "Time is precious and I wouldn't waste mine or yours."

"That makes sense," you said as his eyes skimmed the paper. "I kept my objective simple since I wasn't sure what the position was, but I could update it if you need."

"No need," he said, lifting his gaze once he finished looking it over. "You have a wonderful resume, which I knew you would, and you're a hard worker. You have nothing to worry about. Trust me."

You felt your insides warm up from the praise that poured in. While Andy hadn't seen you in an office setting, he had seen you in action at the diner. He knew you had a can-do attitude and could remain calm under pressure. You were friendly even when people were rude. You just needed your luck to turn around so you could stay on top of your bills.

"Thank you," you whispered, the knot in your stomach unraveling. "I appreciate hearing that."

"It's the truth," he assured you before the waiter came over. "But why don't we order before we discuss anything further? Pick whatever you want."

"Okay," you smiled, mentally telling your stomach not to growl as the waiter poured you each a glass of water and went over the specials.

You took the opportunity to glance at Andy when he ordered, trying not to get lost in how confident he sounded while simply picking out something to eat. While he wasn't stern with the waiter, you noticed his voice wasn't as soft as how he spoke to you. Maybe it was a coincidence.

Maybe it was also a coincidence that he stared down the waiter when it was your turn to order. An unreadable expression again, but something colder. At least he wasn't rude to him.

"Did you have any questions for me?" you asked once the waiter left.

"Down to business, aren't you?" Andy smiled. "That depends on how the next part of this conversation will go. Have you heard of Huffman Enterprises?"

You nodded. Scott Huffman was another former lawyer and an associate of Andy's. The name came up when you did your research.

"He's expanding thanks to a merger and needs new employees," he explained, tapping the folder with his finger. "I know for a fact he has openings for positions similar to your previous job on what's likely a higher pay scale. All I have to do is make a call and he'll hire you on the spot."

You placed your hands on the table as you leaned forward slightly, trying not to appear too eager. You enjoyed your last job before they had to let you go. The opportunity sounded too good to be true though. And you weren't sure why, but it disappointed you that it was a friend of Andy's that would potentially be your boss and not Andy himself.

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise since I'd probably be too busy fantasizing about the man in front of me.

"That sounds wonderful, but why do I feel like there's a 'but' in there?"

"There's that cautiously optimistic side you talked about," he smiled sadly, the knot in your stomach starting to form again. "Because the job isn't available immediately. It will be a few months before you can start. I'm sorry it isn't sooner."

There it is.

Your heart sank, but you didn't hang your head. Maybe that was why Andy didn't tell you the exact details of the job. Had he said immediately that you couldn't start right away, maybe you wouldn't have taken him up on his offer to meet. It could still work if you had to tough it out for a few months. Maybe you could get a second job in the meantime to help cover your expenses.

Only maybe.

You jolted when his hand covered yours, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I can see the wheels turning in your head, honey. Be honest with me. Can you survive the next few months on what you're making now?"

Tears threatened to surface when you didn't answer. You would have to find a way, even if it ruined your credit if you couldn't stay on top of your bills. Or even if you lost your small apartment. You didn't want to be another crushed dreamer in the city.

"I didn't think so," he said, his voice laced with sympathy. "What if I offered to help you?"

"Help me how? By giving me a loan?"

No one helped for free and no way would you be able to pay him back within a reasonable timeframe. The interest alone would drain your bank account. It would be another circle of issues. You didn't want that with Andy or anyone else. You also didn't want to be a charity case.

He brushed his thumb over your hand in a featherlight motion before he pulled away. "Not a loan, but what if I got you caught up on your bills and covered your rent until you could start that job?"

"And what would I have to do for you, Mr. Barber?" you carefully asked.

"I told you to call me Andy," he said, his eyes not leaving yours as he sipped his drink.

Heat rolled down your chest as he licked the liquid from his lip. "What would I have to do for you, Andy?"

"Be there for me," he stated as a matter of fact, running his fingers along his beard. They were so long and thick. "I have some functions to attend and some traveling to do over the next few months. I need someone by my side for all of them and I want that person to be you."

"An assistant?"

He shook his head. "I have an assistant. I'd like you to be my companion."

It wasn't humiliation that washed over you as he waited for you to speak. A wave of shock, perhaps, as you processed his words. Maybe you hadn't heard him correctly.

You waited for the laughter. The punchline. It wasn't a job he was offering you.

It was something else entirely.

"You want me to be an escort?" you asked just above a whisper.

"If ‘escort’ is what you want to call it, but I prefer companion," he said, the corner of his lip lifting. "Escorts sometimes sleep with their clients and I didn't say you have to sleep with me."

You were thankful you didn't have a drink in your mouth. You likely would've spit it out or choked. Maybe he didn't say it, but did he want it? Would he ask that of you?

Would he eventually expect that of me?

"First thing, if you agree, you'll have to quit the diner so you'll be available. Which means you can't take another job in the meantime. I'll have clothes and jewelry bought for you and also give you petty cash in a sense for anything else you need. I'll cover your bills and expenses, so you won't need to worry about that," he explained when you stayed quiet.

"All that just for a few functions?" you asked skeptically. It seemed to be a bit much.

"Some of the traveling would be for days at a time. I'm hoping you and I can get to know each other a bit before those take place so you feel comfortable," he said. Hearing that made sense since the two of you didn't know each other very well. "And I won't ask you to move in with me since that's both fast and takes away your independence, but I would feel more comfortable knowing you're not alone in your current apartment. I have a place in my building you could use in the meantime."

You exhaled once he finished. The man seemed to thrive on control and he would essentially take over your life if you agreed. No job meant no income unless he gave it to you. Even living in a nicer place, it was his building.

"I don't understand. Why me?" you asked, searching for something on his face that could give you an answer.

It didn't make sense to you. He could hire someone if he needed dates to functions. He could find any woman on the sidewalk if he wanted to.

Why was he asking you?

You didn't jump this time when he put his hand back on yours. "Because you're one of the only honest and kind people I've met in a long time and you shouldn't have to struggle. I want to help you, even if it's just for a short time," he said, your heart skipping a beat when he smiled a little. "And between us, I'm a bit lonely and I like talking to you."

The vulnerability in his gaze was an emotion he was allowing you to see. It was enough to shake your resolve because you understood how loneliness could eat at a person. And while you didn't find yourself interesting to talk to, he deserved to have someone in his life who didn't try to use him for their gain. He probably had more than his fair share of that.

I'm not using him if he's offering, right? I wouldn't take more than necessary. Just enough until things were right again. Still doesn't seem like a fair trade.

"Say I agree to this. When the job comes up, that's the end of our arrangement?"

"If that's what you'd like," he answered evenly. "You'd be working, so I wouldn't exactly be able to whisk you away on a whim. And you'd start with a clean slate so to speak since everything would be paid for until you receive your first paycheck."

That was something to consider. "And if I say no?"

"Then I pay for your lunch and your cab and contact you when the job opens up down the road," he offered with a casual shrug. "If you still want it, it's yours. If not, no harm done."

That surprised you. Andy would have nothing to gain by setting you up for a job if you didn't agree to spend time with him. And you didn't get the sense that he would sabotage your chances if you turned him down. It was as if he wanted you to succeed.

Who are you, Andy Barber?

"I think I know why you asked me to meet you here."

"And why is that?" he asked.

"You didn't want to speak over the phone because I could have hung up or blocked your number if your offer upset me, so you chose this place. Almost a middle ground, but a place where you still hold the cards because you're showing me what I can have if I agree to this," you said, waving your hand toward one of the empty tables. "You also chose to speak to me alone in a semi-public place. The public aspect so I wouldn't be uncomfortable, but alone as a way to keep my dignity intact in case I insulted you or worse. It's smart."

And a power move while still considering my feelings.

He gave you a single nod, seemingly impressed. "That's a good analysis and I'd have to agree with you. I'd like to add it was also to keep my dignity intact in case you threw your drink in my face or slapped me."

"I imagine the staff here would be discreet on your part," you smiled. "And lunch isn't over yet. There's still time in case I decide to make a scene."

His warm chuckle sent heat down your spine. "I'll be on my best behavior to ensure you don't, though I wouldn't mind."

"I'll need to think about it," you told him, smiling more despite yourself. It was a lot to consider. "And we'll need to discuss specifics."

"You're talking to a former lawyer. I'd insult myself if I didn't have some kind of contract drawn up for the two of us."

"A Sugar Daddy contract?" you teased before you could stop yourself.

God, why did I say that?

The waiter chose to return at that moment, the enticing aroma of the food filling the air. Andy didn't take his darkened eyes off you as he dragged his teeth along his bottom lip. You barely managed to say "thanks" when the plates were put on the table, too entranced with the man across the table. Virtually a stranger, but determined to help you and get a little something from you in return.

"Call me 'daddy', honey, and I can't promise I'll be on my best behavior, but if it will convince you to be mine? Say it all you want," he said in a low voice, deep enough to make you rub your thighs together as he smirked. "So. Exactly how much time will you need to think it over?"

You sat in thought for a moment as you tried to weigh out his offer. "I'll let you know how much time I need after we're finished with our lunch," you finally answered with a small smile.

And you had a feeling you'd say "yes" a lot sooner than you thought.

So, yes. The answer HAS to be yes. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[namasteindiarestaurant]

Best Restaurants In Phnom Penh

Namaste India was established with a goal in mind to provide the epitome of Indian cuisine along with the true dining experience to our customers.

[veritas-scribblings]

fix - @jegulus-microfic - words: 1,211

‘Just be yourself, Prongsie,’ Sirius says, adjusting James’s collar with an almost wistfully proud smile, like a parent waving their child off to their very first date.

But wasn’t being himself the problem? The problem that had led James to a long string of terrible, terrible dates. Absolutely atrocious dates. In general, James likes to think that he’s a forgiving sort of person. An open-minded, relatively (to a point) non-judgemental sort of person. But after the last person he had dated had wanted him to imitate a corpse during…well, let’s just say James is here now letting Sirius help him out.

‘He’ll love you.’ Sirius pats James’s shoulder. ‘You’re just his sort. Clever. Sunshine-y. Quidditch player. Noble. Good. Romantic. It’s so perfect, it’s ridiculous. You’re perfect and ridiculous. I’d date you!’

‘Please don’t.’ James sighs and tries to flatten that damned lick of hair at the back of his neck again. ‘He being…?’

Sirius grins. ‘It’s a blind date,’ he says. ‘You’re not meant to know.’ There’s a glint in Sirius’s eye that James just doesn’t trust. He is well-seasoned in the Sirius Scheming Face, when Sirius is confident that he has an ace up his sleeve.

James frowns. ‘No, that’s not how blind dates work. I’m just not meant to have met the person before.’

‘Well.’ Sirius tips his head to the side, wrinkling his nose. ‘Trust me. I have a good sense about people. I have a good sense about things like this. Just remember your manners. Eat with the correct fork—work from the outside in. And don’t talk with your mouth full. And, like, stay away from politics, okay? Politics is a no-fly zone.’

The restaurant Sirius has chosen is called Wand and Sword. One of those fancy upmarket restaurants specialising in experimental enchanted gastronomy. There’s three-month waiting list for a seating and a deposit required for securing your spot. Sirius has taken care of everything, apparently—though how he managed to do so, James isn’t sure nor will Sirius say. It’s his gift, Sirius had said, for everything James has ever done for him.

Inside, the lighting is low, atmospheric, and the music is quiet and of the classical kind. And when James is seated, the waiter places a menu before him. It’s not the kind of menu one orders off, the waiter informs him as though they know that James is an absolute novice at all of this. It’s the kind of menu, apparently, that simply informs James of what he’ll eat, like the restaurant doesn’t trust him to make the correct choices for himself.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ a voice says from behind James.

James whirls around. There’s a crisp poshness to the voice, similar to the crisp poshness he hears almost every day.

‘Regulus!’ James pushes his chair back and quickly rises to his feet. His mother, after all, raised him to be polite, and the polite thing would be to greet the younger brother of your best friend.

James blinks. Because, surely not. Sirius wouldn’t…would he? ’You’re…my date?’

‘I’m not your anything,’ Regulus says curtly. He still hasn’t sat down, stands by the empty chair like he’s torn about what to do. ‘What are you doing here? Where is my brother?’

The waiter places the wine menu on the table and waits, hands folded in front of them. When Sirius had selected the restaurant, he had insisted on the ‘absolute best impressions’. James had been sceptical at first, but now he understands.

Hesitantly, James lowers himself back into his seat. ‘I’m…here for a date? Sirius set me up with…well, you, I guess?’

Regulus raises an eyebrow, somehow managing to look elegant while doing so. It does funny things to Jame’s stomach. ‘You agreed to go on a date with me? Why the hell would you do that?’

‘I didn’t,’ James says despondently. ‘He wouldn’t tell me who he was setting me up with. You’re here to meet him, aren’t you…’

‘We’ve had this reservation for months. I’d say,’ Regulus looks around them, and back to James, ‘that this is my brother’s idea of a practical joke.’ He pauses for a moment, as though he’s uncertain about what to do. Finally, with an exaggerated sigh, he takes a seat opposite James. ‘There’s a three-month waiting list,’ he explains. ‘I’m not waiting another three months.’

‘I’m flattered,’ James says dryly. ‘You look nice, by the way.’

James doesn’t like to think of himself as shallow, but good Merlin, Regulus looks lovely with his tailored black trousers and tailored black shirt, and the silver rings on his fingers and the way his curls fall loosely and neatly. James has always been a little bit obsessed with Regulus’s hands and Regulus’s fingers and those silver rings decorating them.

‘This isn’t a date, Potter, there’s no need to try and flatter me. For the record, you may want to start choosing what you’ll wear to the funeral, because I will be murdering him.’ Regulus scowls as he says this. It’s a lovely expression on him, James thinks, marvelling at how someone can look so elegant, so graceful while simultaneously looking like they really would murder another human.

James does not doubt that Regulus means what he says. That Regulus is fully capable of murder, and that Regulus is fully capable of hiding the body and concealing all evidence and getting away with said murder.

And if he’s honest with himself, he also knows he should probably have his head examined, because there’s really just something so very attractive about all that.

James smiles as Regulus picks up the wine menu. ‘It’s nice that you guys are at the point where he can trick you into a date with someone.’

‘We’re not.’ Regulus says this bluntly, but there’s also a slight hint of fondness under all of the spite he exudes. He doesn’t look up, carefully scrutinising each option on the menu like his choice of wine is of the utmost importance. And maybe it is. James wouldn’t really know.

‘Well, he obviously doesn’t think that this whole set up is going to jeopardise the tenuous truce you two have reached,’ James says.

‘Why would you let him set you up on a date?’ Regulus wrinkles his nose at the thought and manages to look absolutely adorable when doing so. When the waiter arrives back at their table, he orders two glasses of riesling. For the both of them, James assumes.

‘I’m currently failing at the dating game,’ James sighs. ‘Sirius said he’d help me out.’

Regulus stares across the table at James like James is entirely pathetic. James feels weak under his stare, the kind of weakness that has him melting inside.

Trust Sirius to know about James’s silly little crush, and about how James has been too much of a coward to do something about it. He probably thought he was doing James a favour, maybe even doing Regulus a favour. James thinks, all warm inside, that he’ll maybe help Regulus with Sirius’s murder. He’ll help Regulus hide the body. And maybe it’ll bring them closer together. Maybe it’ll help him sweep Regulus off his feet.

He’ll have to thank Sirius for this pre-murder blind dinner date later.

[jae-sch-writes]

Fruity Confessions

Characters: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester

Word Count: 1,584

Genre: fluffy goodness

Summary: After a hunt, the Reader gets very drunk. What will Sam do?

Warnings: alcohol consumption (like, a lot of it), mention of murder (nothing out of SPN norm), mention of smut (in a book), hinted at smutty thoughts

A/N: What's up Tumblr? It's been a while. Writing is gonna be all over the place because I have a kid now! (crazy, right?) But as a SAHM, I have a lot of free time to write, so here's to (hopefully), getting back into it. Edited by Grammarly, but any and all mistakes are no one's fault but me, myself, and I.

Want to read more? SPN Masterlist Full Masterlist

You were a fruity drink kinda girl. While the boys had their variety of beers, you preferred Smirnoff Ices or a seltzer of some kind. When the situation called for something a little harder, like at the end of every hunt, the Winchesters drank whiskey, and you enjoyed a bottle of wine. 

With each state you’ve gone to, you made sure to find a winery from that state, and if they had a fruity-flavored bottle, you were definitely getting at least one. This time- Wisconsin.

A hunt had brought you to Green Bay: at Lambeau Field to be specific. Home field Packers’ games were canceled after eight different fans of the Detroit Lions were found dead after their game. It didn’t take long to find out it was a ghost, however, finding out who the ghost was was a different story. After lots of research, Sam had determined it was Bart Starr, the Packers’ quarterback during their first Super Bowl win.

“The dude’s buried in Alabama, so how the hell did he make it here beyond the grave?” Dean asked.

“One of Starr’s jerseys is at the Field. That’s definitely what he’s being tethered to, but it’s gonna be difficult getting it out of its case. Lambeau has all of their memorabilia in cases with alarms,” you said, not looking up from your book. After some moments of silence, you looked up to see Sam and Dean looking at you like you had three heads. “What? I know things.”

“Yeah, but about football?” Dean was shocked. “Not even the game itself, but the fact you just happened to know one of these random player’s jerseys was in their museum? It’s weird.”

“Dean, leave her be, she literally just told us what we’ve gotta burn.” Sam was impressed. While he had never been interested in sports, he was pleasantly surprised by your knowledge, however niche of a topic it may be. “But, I gotta know,” Sam turned to you, “how did you know that?”

“I’ve been to a game or two at Lambeau Field. My dad was a Packers fan.”

You happened to be the one to go to the jersey to burn it while the boys were your backup. The faded green jersey with the number 15 on it was lit up in its display case. You all knew it had to be in and out. Break the case, burn the jersey, and get the hell out.

The sound of shattering glass came with the sound of an alarm, alerting the guard at the entrance to the museum portion of the stadium. Bart Starr was throwing around Sam and Dean like they were footballs.

You had just barely been able to get a match onto the jersey before security was able to see you. Luckily, the small flame was enough to distract him and made him run in the opposite direction to get a fire extinguisher.

The next morning, as Sam and Dean were packing up, you drove to a state business called Festival Foods. There, you found their selection of state-made wines. You opted for a couple of labels all made of cranberries. If you were grabbing wines made in Wisconsin, you might as well grab ones made with one of the state’s bigger industries.

You spent the twelve hours from Green Bay back to Lebanon in almost complete silence. You and Sam reading your books, and Dean humming along to whatever song was playing on the radio.

The minute you got home, you grabbed the cooler and went to the kitchen. Your only thoughts were on the wine you had got and how you needed to try it.

“Y/N, you didn’t even grab your-” Sam’s sentence was interrupted by seeing you grabbing a wine glass from the cupboard. “I’ll go put your bag in your room.” Sam knew better than to get between you and your wine. The last time he tried that, he ended up on the floor from trying to cut you off for the night. Your love for wine and need for a drink after a hunt had given you the drunken power to somehow take him down, despite the size difference between you and him. 

Sam retreated from the kitchen to his bedroom. You took your bottle, glass, and book to the library and settled yourself into the loveseat you had picked for nights like these. 

About 3/4ths of the bottle in, you had abandoned the thought of a wine glass and just started drinking straight from the bottle. Your mind was wandering from the fantasy-romance you were reading and to thoughts of Sam. When you reached a smutty part of the story, you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with Sam in that way.

You were now a bottle down, and made your way back to the kitchen to open up another one. It really didn't take long for you to finish the second bottle. You were stumbling to the kitchen, with the intent to grab your third bottle, when you were stopped by the table in the library, not at it, by it. You had walked right into it, almost like you forgot the large oak table was there. 

Getting to the kitchen truly was difficult for you, your drunken version of a marathon. Sam heard all of the commotion going on and took a guess on where you were heading. Usually he would leave you be, but being able to hear you walk into things, he decided to risk you being mad at him. 

He stood in the doorway, blocking the entrance to the kitchen, and let you walk right into him. It took him everything to keep him from laughing at your face when you were met with the wall of muscle. 

“Sammy, whaddya doin’ here?” Your words were slurred, but not incoherent.

“Preventing alcohol poisoning,” Sam grabbed your hand and guided you down the hall. “Come on, let's get you to bed.”

“Can I sleep in yours?” Your drunken state left you with no filter. The words just came out of your mouth. 

“Ya know, given you walked right into me like I was invisible, that might actually be a good idea.”

Sam’s response invoked a giggle from you, and he couldn't help but smile. Even though you were stumbling down the halls of the Bunker, bumping into Sam every couple of steps, he thought you were adorable. You were usually pretty reserved and in control, but like this, you’re care-free, not calculating your every move. 

It took almost twice as long to get to Sam’s room as usual with how many times you bumped into him or tripped over your own feet resulting in him having to catch you. Sam told himself after the fourth time if you fell one more time, he was just going to pick you up and carry you the rest of the way. Much to his dismay, that did not happen. He would have loved to know your reaction in the morning if you remembered him doing that. 

When you finally reached Sam’s room, the first thing you did was flop on the bed, or attempt to anyway. Thankfully, you fell just short of landing all the way on so your head never hit the floor. Sam chuckled and helped you up. Before laying back down, you took off your shirt, leaving you in just your bra and sweatpants. 

This wasn't the first time Sam had seen you without a shirt, or the first time the two of you shared a bed, but this time was different. This time you were drunk and didn't really know what you were doing. In your drunken state, you were just getting ready for bed, for Sam, he couldn't help but think that you thought of him as someone safe. Why else would you have asked if you could stay with him tonight?

Sam got you comfy on the bed, all the while you were giggling up a storm. Sam looked at you and smiled. “What? What's so funny, Y/N/N?”

“Nothin’. I just think you're cute. And tall,” you looked at Sam with big eyes and a goofy grin. “Oh my gosh you're so tall.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Sam chuckled. “Let's just get you to sleep, alright?”

You nodded as he helped you make sure you didn't smack your head against his bed frame. Sam grabbed the small trash can sitting at his desk and brought it to your side of the bed. You usually held your liquor really well, but given your state, he didn't want to take any chances. 

“Sammy?” you say quietly.

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” your voice got serious. Sam knew you'd be falling asleep soon, you always stopped being goofy towards the end of the night. 

“I mean it. I really do,” Sam knew you weren't just saying that because you were drunk. If you were talking, your filter may be going, but you mean every word that comes out of your mouth. 

“I know you do,” Sam smiled softly before crawling into his bed behind you and pulling his blanket over the two of you. He let his arm fall over your side and rubbed his thumb in small circles over your stomach. He hated not knowing if you were going to remember this in the morning. 

He waited to hear your breathing become slow and steady before whispering, “I love you, too, Y/N/N.”

Tag List

@train-wrecc

add yourself HERE

[willalove75]

Alcina with reader who's just realizing they're gay and is love with her (kinda like not knowing what gay even is until they read one of the books in Alcinas library) (not good with my words lol)

Aw I love this!! Thanks so much for the request!!💕💕

Two Alcina fics in two days?! Well since AO3 was down all day I decided to write another!

Warnings: None

18+ only Minors DNI

After working for the Countess for just over 4 years, you were finally promoted to being her hand servant after your predecessor disappeared. No one is quite sure of what happened to her, there were rumors that the hand servant called her a monster and was sent into the dungeons, another rumor spread that she tried to stab the countess, not being fully aware of her capabilities and was made into a bottle of wine. The most chilling rumor though, was that the Countess got bored of her and killed her for fun. Either way, she disappeared without a trace and would soon be forgotten about all together. It's not like it's uncommon for maids to disappear anyway.

After being the Countess' hand servant for a few weeks you were able to do everything without a second thought. She was quite forgiving the first week given all of your duties were relatively new to you, but after a couple of days you got the hang of it and she hasn't had one complaint about your work since you started.

It's not like all of the work was brand new, growing up in a poor household, you would assist your mother, also a maid, at the various houses of nobility in the village since you were a child. Once you were 18, you were sent off to work for Lady Dimitrescu, partially to keep you safe because the village was rather dangerous, especially at night. Also because the Countess is rather selective of her maids, therefore the pay was good. She seemed rather impressed with the fact that you had almost 10 years of experience at the age of 18 and hired you on the spot.

Although the one downside to the life you've lived thus far was that you were extremely innocent and didn't know much about the world outside the village. Luckily, the castle had the biggest and most beautiful library you've ever seen, and since you loved reading and the Countess allowed maids to borrow whatever books they wanted, you were able to learn about the world outside of the village, learn about history and science and read books you never knew existed. Things you never really had the opportunity to learn much of growing up aside from the basics you were taught in school.

When you became the Countess' hand servant, many maids asked if you were frightened. Sure, the position could certainly be nerve-wracking, but you wouldn't say you were scared. Being surrounded by a pack of lycans that one time, now that was terrifying. Luckily the Countess was nearby and with one swipe of her claws the problem was resolved. But you weren't frightened of her, or of being her hand servant. Truthfully, you weren't sure what you felt. It was almost a nervous feeling, but lighter, you felt that way when you first saw the Countess, and almost as if she could hear your heartbeat increase, she responded with only a small smirk.

Lady Dimitrescu seemed to enjoy the fact that you had this unknown feeling inside of you because it made you very easy to fluster, something you're pretty sure she enjoyed doing to you. A soft caress of your cheek, her hand gently gliding across your back, when she would drop her voice just a bit, adding a sultry tone to it, staring into your eyes captivating you with her big, gorgeous gold irises. All things that would make your cheeks turn pink and make you trip over your words endlessly.

You tried your best to keep yourself composed, but every time you tried, she took it as a personal challenge and tried harder to fluster you, only causing you to fluster more than you normally would. Tonight was not an exception and she continually tried to make your cheeks turn as red as a tomato every chance she got.

Returning her empty teacup to the tray, you begin to blow out the candles in her room, leaving the one on her nightstand lit as always. Lady Dimitrescu sauntered out of the bathroom, you could have sworn she was swaying her hips purposefully, and climbed into bed. You tried your hardest to not look at her while she walked across the room, but no matter how hard you tried, your eyes wandered over to her, looking her up and down. Trying your hardest not to get caught, you raked over her body, her jet black hair, her immaculate hips, her long, strong legs. Suddenly, you meet her gorgeous gold eyes out of the corner of yours and you quickly turn back to your task, a barely noticeable chuckle vibrating in her chest.

As you blow out the last candle, you grab the tray and walk past her bed, trying to get out as quickly as possible now that she caught you staring.

"Before you go, would you please hand me my reading glasses, they're on my vanity."

"Of course my Lady."

Placing the tray on the nightstand, you grab her reading glasses and walk over to the side of the bed. You try and avoid her gaze, but it's impossible. Her gold eyes glow in the dark, captivating you for a moment. Handing her her glasses, her long fingers graze your hand, she slowly pulls away, the sensation lingering on your skin.

"Thank you." She says, staring into your eyes.

You go to open your mouth to speak but no words come out. Satisfied with her ability to leave you speechless with the smallest gestures, she smirks a little. Bringing her fingers to your warming cheek, she gently caresses your skin before cupping underneath your jaw, pulling you towards her. Your heart feels like it skips multiple beats as she pulls you in, a sly grin tugging at the corner of her lips. Lips so perfect, so supple, you wonder for a brief second what they would feel like against yours. The moment you realize your thought your cheeks heat in the palm of her hand and your heartbeat increases. The Countess leans towards you, her lips gently meeting your cheek, your breath hitches in your chest and you suppress an involuntary whimper that nearly escapes. Her lips linger on your skin for a moment before she pulls away, looking into your eyes once more.

"Goodnight, my sweet pet."

Frozen for a moment, you didn't realize her hand had left you. She looks up at you with amusement as she lays her head on the pillow. Once you snap out of the trance you're able to squeeze a "Goodnight my Lady." out before grabbing the tray, doing your best to keep it steady in your shaking hands, and leaving.

In the kitchen you find your friend, Antonia, finishing up her duties for the night.

"What's gotten into you? Countess got your tongue?" She teases.

"I-I don't know." You lean in a little. "She kissed my cheek."

"She what?!"

"Yeah, I-I don't know." Your cheeks turn a deeper shade of red.

"Do you have a crush on her?"

"What?"

"You heard me!"

"I don't know, I've never- but she's a woman?"

"Oh my sweet summer child, you have much to learn don't you?" You look at her with confusion and she chuckles. "You like reading, yeah?"

"Yeah?"

Antonia grabs a pen and paper and writes something down and hands it to you.

"Go find this book in the library and read it. It'll teach you a few things you should know, things I'm truly shocked you never learned given you've been here for so long now."

"O-okay."

The following morning your alarm wakes you up and you shower, get dressed and head to the kitchen to get the Lady's tea. Bringing the tray up to her room, she's already awake and instructs you to leave it on the nightstand and that she will get herself ready this morning. She also tells you that since it's Sunday, there's nothing she'll need you for until afternoon tea and then nighttime preparations after dinner so you have the rest of the day to yourself.

Once you leave her chambers you head straight to the library and find the book Antonia told you about. "The Price of Salt." You spot one of the chaise lounges off to the side and take a seat and begin reading. The book is fascinating and not incredibly long, drawing you in rather quickly. As you're reading, there's a sense of familiarity with the characters that you can't quite put your finger on, and when the two women go on a road trip together it becomes clear. Putting the book down for a moment, a realization washes over you, you always thought that there was something wrong with you because you never had crushes on boys the same way your friends did growing up. The thought of marrying a man and having children never appealed to you and part of you just thought you were broken since there was never any other alternative option. But you weren't broken, there wasn't anything wrong with you, you were just different from the rest. You were like Carole and Therese, not broken, just not interested in men.

Catching a glimpse of the clock you realize that you're almost late for the Lady's afternoon tea. With the book tucked away in your apron pocket, you dash to the kitchen and Antonia walks over to you with the tray.

"Where were you?!"

"I was reading that book you told me about."

She raises an eyebrow as she hands you the tray.

"Aaand?"

"It opened up a door to things I never knew existed."

"Hah! I knew it, but you can thank me later, go before she gets mad at you for being late."

You get to the Lady's study and gently knock on the door.

"Enter."

Opening the door, she looks up from her papers and stares at you.

"You're late."

"I am so sorry my Lady."

"And what is the reason for your unusual tardiness?"

Placing the tray on the side table, she motions for you to come to her with her finger. Looking at the floor, you clasp your hands in front of you.

"I apologize my Lady. Truthfully, I started a new book this morning and I lost track of time. I won't let it happen again."

You feel a gloved finger under your chin as she tilts your head up to look at her. With an arched eyebrow, she looks at you and then her eyes flicker down, noticing the book in the pocket of your apron. Her hand leaves your face and she pulls the book out of your pocket.

"And was this the book in question?"

"Yes my Lady."

She turns it around and reads the title, she smirks at it and her eyes shift back to you.

"A lovely selection, although I'm quite surprised a book like this piqued your interest."

You feel your cheeks redden and you look down.

"Antonia, from the kitchen, recommended it. She said it would, um, teach me things I should know."

The Countess hums and stands up, making her way to the armchair in the room.

"Pour me a cup of tea, my pet. No sugar today."

"Yes my Lady."

After pouring her tea and adding the blood, you walk it over to her, the book still in her hand. She takes a sip and places the cup on the table next to the chair and motions for you to come forward. When you step forward, you're taken by surprise when she grabs you by the waist and pulls you into her lap.

"So, tell me my pet, did you learn anything from this book?"

"Yes, my Lady." You say, avoiding eye contact.

"And what is it that you learned?" She asks, placing her finger under your chin once more and turning your gaze to her.

"Ha-have you read this book before, my Lady?"

"I have, many times. But I thought I asked you a question." She says, arching her eyebrow.

"Sorry my Lady. I-I didn't know that, um, two women could-" you look up at her, feeling the heat radiating off of your cheeks and don't finish your sentence.

The Countess begins to laugh and lightly throws her head back. Her laugh captivates you, it almost makes you forget about how mortified you feel right now. Admiring how the crows feet crinkle in the corners of her eyes, how her perfectly red lips frame her beautiful smile, how her laugh is like music to your ears.

Suddenly, it hits you, it wasn't nerves or fear, the feelings you've had towards the Countess were anything but that. You weren't afraid of her, you were in love with her.

"I do apologize, it's not often that I encounter such innocent maidens. Especially ones who have been here so long." She says with amusement twinkling in her golden irises. Her fingers caress your cheek and you feel a flutter so intense in your stomach your hands immediately cover it. Lady Dimitrescu chuckles as she strokes your cheek. "Oh my sweet, innocent little pet. Tell me, did you find yourself relating to the women in the novel?"

"Yes my Lady, very much so."

"Did you not know what those feelings were before?"

"No my Lady, I-I thought perhaps I was broken because I never felt any attraction to men."

"Well that is preposterous, although I understand knowing how taboo the topic is, especially in the village. I remember feeling that very same way in my youth until I learned about the other, possibilities."

Your eyes widen when you hear her speak.

"Wait, you're...?"

"A lesbian? Yes my pet, I have been for nearly a hundred years."

"Oh."

"You really didn't know?"

"No my Lady, I didn't even know it existed until today."

"Well do you prefer the company of women?"

"I-I guess. I don't enjoy the company of men."

"Me either." She says with a laugh. "There's a reason, besides the fact that I find those manthings wretched, I employ only women, have paintings of women and statues of women throughout the castle."

"That does make sense."

"I must say I am fascinated by your innocence."

"Thank you, my Lady, I think."

The Countess chuckles and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Tell me, my sweet little pet, what brought this up when you were speaking with Antonia?"

"Uh-" you freeze for a moment and your cheeks heat up once more. There's not an ounce of you that wants to admit that a simple kiss on the cheek from her is what started all of this.

"May I take a guess?"

You nod your head, unable to break eye contact with her. Lady Dimitrescu leans into your ear. With her body pressed up against yours, your heart begins to race.

"Was it, perhaps, when I kissed you on the cheek last night?" Her voice was low and sultry, one of her hands slowly slides up your thigh and rests on top of it and your eyes flutter shut. You nod your head "yes" to answer her question, unable to form words. "That's what I thought, how sweet." The Countess grazes her teeth softly across your earlobe, sending a shudder down your body. A whimper-like moan escapes from your lips and you feel a pressure building up between your legs.

Lady Dimitrescu inhales through her nose, smiling as she exhales.

"Oh draga mea, your arousal smells delightful. Is that all I have to do to excite you?" She asks, teasing you.

Still unable to utter any words, you stare into her eyes. You can't believe this is happening, any of it. Lust begins to fill her eyes as she looks at you, you feel drawn to her in a way you've never felt drawn to anyone else before. Your eyes flicker from her eyes down to her lips. They're so close to yours, they look so full so kissable, you desperately want to know what they feel like on yours, to know what they taste like.

"Is there something you want, pet?" She asks.

"Yes, my Lady." You whisper, your eyes not leaving her lips.

"If you ask nicely I may indulge you, sweetling."

"Please." You breathe.

The corner of her lip pulls into a smile and before you know it, they're on yours. It takes you by surprise for a moment, but the softness of her lips, the coolness against your burning skin immediately relaxes you. So much so that a moan erupts from the back of your throat into her mouth. She takes the opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth, another moan escapes as your tongue dances around hers. You're not sure how long you were kissing her for, seconds, minutes, hours, who knows? All you know was that the entire time you felt like you were floating. When did your fingers tangle into her hair? When did she grab the back of your head? When did you adjust in her lap to straddle her leg? You have no idea what the answers to any of these questions are. The only thing you know is that when your lips finally parted and she sucked on your bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth, you were in heaven.

With hooded eyelids you look up into her eyes while you gently pant. The Countess cups your face and caresses your cheek with her thumb, pressing a kiss into your forehead. She pulls you into her and you lay against her chest.

"Oh my sweet little pet," she says, stroking your hair. "we are going to have lots on fun together."

[marigold-hills]

Oh I am so jumping in here.

Can you give us a dreamy summer wolfstar first kiss/get together, but put it in YOUR nostalgic summer. Like whatever that means for you. Where are they? What are they eating/drinking? What is the air like? The lighting? The smells and sounds?

I humbly bow before your altar take my compliments on your prose and pacing and metaphors as my offering 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Hey! Loved this ask. It completely run away from me. Hope you enjoy it! (Also you said altar and offering and well. Those words clearly stayed with me.)

It’s wine and bread, a fancy cheese selection from Tesco’s. A little plastic pot of olives. No blanket, because they’re not tourists and don’t mind a bit of sand as seasoning.

The storm is coming in.

They can see it, across the vastness of water, darkening the horizon and stretching through the sky like spilled ink.

Recreating exactly how it was the first time, years ago:

Remus had said there’s a storm tonight. We should go and watch it.

On the beach? Sirius had asked, a bit bewildered. The wind was already picking up, and the logistics of sitting out in the open during a downpour didn’t enamour him.

Remus, undeterred, prepared a backpack. I know a place, he said, we’ll be hidden from the rain. Trust me?

And Sirius did: with his life, with his time. Followed him off the main promenade and across the dunes until they reached a hidden spot of sand: a bay, of sorts, with a railway bridge backed into the cliff side. The arches of its support beams only faced open towards the water, secluded otherwise by brick and clay.

“Used to come here with da, when I was a kid,” Remus told him: “there are fossils in the clay if you know where to look. Come out after heavy rain best, maybe we’ll find something tomorrow.”

They set up under one of the arches. Remus built a stone circle at the mouth of it, stacked it with sticks and driftwood he’d collected on their way. Set a crumpled wad of receipts from his pocket on fire and used it as kindling.

“Impressing me with your caveman skills here, Moony.” Sirius had known, of course, that wild streak within Remus, seen it shine through sometimes when he let his guard down, but this was something new. Large hands stoking the flame as it slowly engulfed the given wood, eyes alight with its reflection. Sirius felt a pull at his navel like a fishhook: handle me like this, the pull said.

He’d made a mistake, maybe, following Moony back to his parents’ house for the summer after their graduation. A miscalculation of how much he could stand watching him, in the summer heat, with sea breeze curling his hair.

Red wine, a couple paper cups. Sirius didn’t like it then yet: not like he pretended to, and it was a cheap bottle from the middle shelf. The aftertaste was sharp, it stayed on his tongue and the insides of his cheeks - dry, clinging.

Cheeses Remus had cut into cubes. Pungent Stilton with dark blue veins, Brie, white skin coating the creamy interior, fruity Wensleydale filled with cranberries.

They sat side by side by the fire as the storm hit. The rain a heavy curtain in front of them, the wind making their fire dance erratically. Sirius had never seen it like this, surprised by the intensity of the smell of salt in the air. Despite the cover, a thin mist of spray hit his face when the wind blew just right.

Remus had made him a canapé of sorts, spread a chutney on a finger-torn piece of sourdough and topped it with the Stilton. He ate it in one bite. Asked for another, just like it, the taste round and warming, somehow.

“It’s the chutney,” Remus said. “There’s chilli in it. Try an olive.”

A new thing, this, being presented with food like offerings. Remus watched each bite Sirius took with an intent, as if they were eating something rare and costly. Like this, with the storm above them and the fire in Moony’s eyes, Sirius felt each mouth full was something precious, something to be cherished. A worship, and he wasn’t sure if he was the god being praised or the offering on the altar.

They’d almost finished the bottle when Remus asked want to swim? With such wonderful abandon that Sirius didn’t even hesitate. Yes, he said, and they took off their trousers and shirts and walked hand in hand into the water.

The first crack of thunder rang out when they were knee deep. Remus laughed, free and loud like a curlew, head thrown back into the falling rain. The sky turned white with the lightning and Sirius thought it’s you, that needs to be worshipped.

Moments like this, though, something Sirius didn’t know: it’s too easy, for thoughts to be said aloud.

Remus turned to him like a trap closing. “Is that right?”

“You look like a god of the sea.”

(Another break of thunder, a wave sweeping into them, rough with the storm but soft like a touch.)

Remus took his hand, pulled him further into the water. There were raindrops caught in his eyelashes, and Sirius realised I’m close enough to touch them. He did, shaky fingers, as lighting lit them up. The water made Remus’ curls heavy and darker, sat on his skin in a fine sheen. “I want to lay you out onto the sand,” Sirius thought-said, “trace the path of every raindrop.”

“You’ll be at it for hours.”

“As long as you’ll let me.”

The first time they kissed, Remus tasted like salt.

NOTES:

I feel compelled to point out: everyone. Please don’t drink and swim! Don’t swim in the storm! Especially not in the sea.

I don’t know how I didn’t realise before you’re the person who wrote The Homecoming of Sirius Black??? I LOVED it. Honestly the fact that you enjoy my writing feels like such a massive compliment.