#and the supervisor being like ‘you need to text us if you’re going to be late’ YOU WANT ME TO TEXT YOU WHILE IM DRIVING?????

[ocdhuacheng]

“You were 36 minutes late to your shift today” well damn sir I don’t control the traffic accidents

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 7: New Beginnings Bring New Fascinations

Chapter Word Count: 3,355

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language.

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The excited uproar when you called Mimi and Papa was the tip of the iceberg. For the sake of privacy until any documentation was signed, you kept Jihoon’s name out of it, but that didn’t fully stop you from answering any questions. You were lucky to have taken some painkillers and a half hour nap before starting the adventures of the morning. 

“Oh tell me about it! How did it happen? Where were you??” Mimi sighed dramatically, hearing a chuckle from Papa in the background. 

You settled back on the bed, a smile on your features as you rolled your eyes. “It was so dumb. I told you two of my coworkers and I went to a concert in Jersey – it was amazing by the way, the best concert of my life. We went out to a diner in the city once we got back and we pretty much..ran into each other, literally.” Thinking back, the entire situation only got funnier. “Ji- He was there with his friends and we basically sat and hung out for hours. Some other things happened that I can’t discuss, but someone is going to email you guys an NDA for you to sign. It’s a kinda complicated time so I can’t talk too much about it.” 

With confirmation they would read it over and sign whatever was needed by the end of the day, you bid both a farewell after promising to somehow have them meet either over video chat or in person. 

Calling your supervisor was relatively easy. Once the formalities were out of the way, you explained that your soulmate was someone that travels the world frequently based on Seoul and with your job mainly being online, you figured it would be a better request for a transfer and move to remote. After a while on hold, a conference call with a few supervisors and the head of the Korean relations department, it was approved. You expected the conversation about a pay cut, it wasn’t as bad. It accommodated the change in costs of living. 

Contacting Jamie and Kazuki was…chaotic to say the least. A text turned into a phone called…which turned into a video call and a tour of the room you were staying in. They gave no hesitation in agreeing to sign the NDA as long as you give them ‘all the tea’ and send them any extra merch you possibly could. Talking to them made you feel light, while the bond between Jihoon and yourself brought you warmth and destiny, the platonic bond you held between the three of you brought comfortability and familiarity.

“Wait, shit, what's gonna happen to your stuff? How was all that gonna be handled?” Jamie frowned. “You’re gonna be leaving this week, right?” 

“Ah…yeah about that. I’ll pay for whatever you guys need, but I was kinda hoping you could go through everything since I don’t have a lot, pack it, and send it out with whatever company Pledis is going to use.” 

“Can I call dibs on anything you don’t take with you?” The question from Kazu had you groaning, shaking your head and giggling.

“As long as you don’t keep some weird shit, yeah. Between now and whenever we leave, I’m going to need to head back home to gather everything I can in a few suitcases. I think when the manager was taking us back he was saying something about switching flights and needing my passport, which I don’t have with me.” 

You shifted from your spot at the desk, turning your head towards the door. There was that pull again deep down, goosebumps once again raised on your arms. 

“Babes? Are you good?” 

The knock at the door interrupted Jamie, you already knew who it was. You gave a call of one sec!. 

“ Quick question, do you know when Kazuki is going to come home if he goes out or feel him once he is close?” 

“ Feel him? Like a sixth sense? Not really. I’ve read that some bonds can manifest that, but typically it’s the feeling of serenity when together and the shared emotions.” 

“Hm, interesting. Okay, well Jihoon is waiting outside the door. Bye.” 

“Don’t just hang-” 

And you hung up on him, standing and stretching your limbs before answering the door. Jihoon didn’t change, but at least his hair was brushed and he might have slept a bit more. 

You could feel the slightest hint of nerves build in your chest. Before you were able to open your mouth, Jihoon was already talking. 

“ I know it might be a lot, but everyone in the group knows now and are insisting on meeting you. I’m the first one in the group to meet their soulmate outside of Seungkwan and Vernon-” That was…yeah that one was obvious. “ They said if I didn’t come and convince you to agree, Seungkwan and Seokmin would be coming to drag you out.” 

Ah…Yeah…That. 

Why you thought you could escape the inevitable for longer was unknown. 

“ They all want to go out for lunch.” 

“Jihoon, you are making it worse.” You cringed, giving him a pleading look which only morphed into a timid smile. 

“... Sorry.” 

“I can’t really escape this, can I?”

The quick, little shake of his head gave you all the answers needed. 

That was how you found yourself in a fancy Korean BBQ place, walking into the back for a large private room. Jihoon and yourself were the last to show up since you needed to speak with his managers to give the needed information to send the additional NDAs out and hand over your own. You expressed your plans to travel home to pack as much as possible within the next few days before needing to fly out. 

You thanked the waitress who had led you to the room, face contouring in uneasiness. Beyond the door, you could hear boisterous conversation and laughter filling the room. As Jihoon went to open the door, you slowly took his free hand, rolling your shoulders back to straighten up. 

“ Finally! I thought we’d have to go back to the hotel and drag you here!” All conversation ceased as Seokmin called out, noticing you both at the door. “ Come sit! We just ordered the meat!” 

Two seats were empty between Seokmin and Soonyoung. All eyes were focused on the two of you, quietly taking in you. Jihoon pursed his lips and stepped in front of you partially to block their view, walking you towards your spots and sitting down. He automatically sat next to Soonyoung, leaving you to fend for yourself against Seokmin. Across from you was none other than Mingyu.

Personally, you didn’t know how to break the ice. Too many pairs of eyes were perceiving you. No introduction was needed from them really. 

“ Ya hyung, did you tell them we bite or something?” The first one to speak was Mingyu, the exasperation on his face and the scoff he let out made Jihoon return the scoff with his own. 

“ They are a Carat, maybe they’ve watched enough videos to know how annoying you are.” 

The comment had your lips pressed tightly together and your head falling back to hold in the laugh. You took a deep breath and shuttered it out. 

“Lord save me.” You muttered out, shaking your head and looking back at everyone the best you could. Every single one of them were so close, clean faces without a hint of makeup, comfy casual clothes, and wide eyed in curiosity.

“ I’m not annoying! Tell them I’m not annoying!” Hearing the giant of a man whine in front of you was not on your bingo board of the year.  No one came to his defense. 

“ Can you shut up and stop making a fool of yourself?” The deep rumble of Seongcheol’s voice, he sat on the other side of Seokmin between Jeonghan and Chan. 

A chorus of laughter fluttered out of each of them. Jihoon rumbled a laugh to himself, feeling a childlike joy shared with you. 

“ Can I introduce myself or are you going to continue bullying Mingyu?” The sarcasm in your tone even had Jihoon reeling to stare at you. 

With no objections, you stated your name, bowing your head to them. “ I was born in 1997 here in New York, and I speak four languages relatively fluently, and have been a Carat since 2019.” 

The waitress from earlier had pushed the door open along with another waiter, rolling in a car full of different meat platters and extras. Food was quickly arranged haphazardly around the grills and table, gratitude shared for everything provided before you once again were sitting just the fourteen of you. 

“ I have to say, you are handling this a lot better than I thought.” Jeonghan spoke up, leaning on his uninjured elbow to see you the best he could past Seokmin who was leaning over the table. 

You chuckled at that, waving a hand to brush it off. “ If I’m being honest here, I’m about two seconds away from running out the door so I don’t embarrass myself. You should have seen me last night when my friend pointed out some of the members walking into the diner.” 

Jihoon was pulling a plate of meat towards him, already starting the cooking to get everything going. “ I told Shua-hyung and Seokmin-ah that they were feeling close to imploding with embarrassment and shock.” 

Your jaw dropped and you gave a hardish hit to his shoulder. “ Hey! Try to step into my shoes!” 

“I thought you were going to pass out from just feeling that alone.” 

“Jihoon!” 

Another chorus of laughter filled the room, making you shrink down in your chair. Now you wished to crawl into a hole. 

“ What was it you said? Oh my fucking god, you have to be fucking kidding me.” He continued, stating word for word your reaction in English. 

“ Luckily you didn’t have the first words written on you, that would have been hard to hide, hyung.” Chan’s loud and innocent laugh had you laughing too. 

“ It gets better, their friend placed a bet that one of us would be their soulmate and won.” Joshua interjected smoothly, flipping the meat on the grill in front of him.

“ Can someone be on my side?” Your plea went unanswered. 

“ So, do we need to ask the question that is on everyone’s mind?” The innocent tone Seungkwan was trying to portray was laced with mischief. 

“Wait, what is supposed to be on everyone’s mind? I’m lost.” Soonyoung – bless his heart – leaned forward, looking innocently between you and Seungkwan. 

You stared daggers into Seungkwan. He was lucky he wasn’t across from you because you definitely would have kicked him under the table. “ Nothing, don’t listen to him. He is talking nonsense.” You rushed the words out, only making it even more suspicious. 

“Ya noona…it would be mean if you don’t tell everyone your bias, right?” His tone was challenging towards you, raising an eyebrow. 

You could hear the smirk on Jeonghan’s face when he spoke. “ Oh? I’m especially curious.” 

“ Seungkwanie.” You said between clenched teeth, staring him down. “ I’m asking you nicely-” 

“What? I think hyung would like to know. Right, Cheolie-hyung? You’d want to know if someone was biasing you, right?” 

If your soul could split from Jihoon and leave your body, that was how you felt. Too many voices were talking at once, playful screaming and laughter flooding your ears. Jokes were cracked at Jihoon and Seungcheol, thankfully leaving you out of the mix for now. You rued the day that the jokes would be fired at you if they grew comfortable enough for that. 

Your cheeks were bright red from what you could tell based on how hot you felt. In the back of your mind you were conjuring a plan of how to get back at him one day. 

“ Wah…and here I thought the universe would make them have a natural draw to Jihoonie.” Jeonghan heaved a breath, “ Please tell me your wrecker is him.” 

“ I will neither confirm nor deny that.” Was all you were able to say, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

Although the beginning of your meeting was…interesting to say the least, the more the conversation flowed, the more comfortable it became. Minghao and Jun were mostly quiet aside from you boasting about the Performance Unit. Wonwoo was a quiet watcher who grew curious when Mingyu asked if you played any game, which you did but you were particularly good at. You preferred the single player games that let you pass time after work, but you would rather be reading a book in bed which he could happily agree with. 

Seeing Seventeen in videos wasn’t all that different than who they were in person. They playfully bullied one another, told old stories that had you laughing so hard your sides hurt, and were unapologetically themselves. Jihoon and Joshua had brought up a new episode of an anime they were following. Soonyoung was leaning back behind your soulmate to ask you a question. Seokmin was ever so kindly giving you food when your plate was empty. Anything you didn’t finish was not so conspicuously shoveled onto Jihoon’s plate. 

Truth be told, it was similar to how you thought of them: comforting, familial, and tranquil. They had already made you feel like family even if they had just met you. You were an important person to Jihoon now, who each one of them cared about deeply, and you were going to spend the rest of your life with him. 

“ Oh god, my grandma used to call me dumpling!” Seungkwan howled, scrunching his face up into a cringe, shaking his head. 

“ Dumpling!? That is cute though!” You yelled across the table, grinning wide. “ Mimi used to call me Ruby. My birth month stone is a ruby and I loved red roses growing up. She doesn’t do it much anymore since I’m older, but it was cute. She even got me a necklace with a ruby on it.” 

A gasp came from Mingyu who gave the most puppy-like smile, wide sparkly eyes and all, quickly looking between you and Jihoon who you thought wasn’t zoned into the conversation. “ Can we call you Ruby? It’s like hyung’s song too! You are his ruby!” 

A wave of adoration that washed through you had you glancing at Jihoon. Soonyoung was talking animatedly about a topic you couldn’t really catch and the latter was listening, however he definitely was listening in on your conversation as well. 

“ I don’t see why you can’t, it’d be nice to hear it again.” You affirmed, nodding to solidify it. 

“ Ruby-ah!” Mingyu grinning, “ That is your name now. I don’t make the rules.”

By the time everyone had eaten their fill, small groups were ready to explore on their own. Members started to funnel out after Seungcheol generously paid for the meal, some making plans to meet up once more for dinner. Truth be told you had no plans besides going back to the hotel, finishing whatever paperwork was needed and simply existing. Finishing the papers meant the posting of the announcement which also led to the making or breaking of your mental health depending on how the world reacts. You knew there would be the delusional fans that would start something. You had already placed your instagram on private after the meeting. You hoped you didn’t have to private your twitter since it was mostly anonymous. 

“Noona, do you want to go out with us?” Chan broke you from your little trance, tilting his head slightly in question. Vernon and Seungkwan were already ready to head out. “We want to walk around Time Square.” 

“ Ah, it might not be a good idea yet.” You stood, rubbing the back of your neck. 

He raised an eyebrow, head still tilted. “ Why? Because a statement hasn’t been put out?” 

You simply nodded. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to explore and get to know your new companions, but there were a lot of what ifs that plagued your mind. 

“ Why can’t we just…live on the edge?” Seungkwan questioned, a purse to his lips. His eyes were focused more on Jihoon, hopeful he would think it was a good idea. 

Looking at him, you see the internal debate he was having. 

“ I- Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Maybe it would be better to wait, some fans can be a little…intrusive.”

“But what’s the fun in that?” Seungkwan’s pursed lips turn into a full pout now. 

Jihoon was looking at you now, gauging your reaction. It was no question he could feel the hope, but also the fear you were attempting to bundle down. His expression shifted before he sighed, shoulders deflating some. 

“ Fine, but if we get in trouble, you better take the blame.”

“Deal! Let’s go!” Seungkwan was taking your arm after having rounded the table, leaving the others to catch up. “ And we’ll have security with us, nothing to worry about. You and Nonnie can translate for us if needed.” 

“ Am I being used as a free translator?” You ask while being dragged along. 

Somewhere behind you, Vernon gives confirmation which causes you to laugh. 

The handful of you had a blast walking around the main attraction of the city. You had called Jamie and Kazuki to meet up with you since they took the time earlier to read and sign their lives away. Spending the day with new friends and old ones only added to the fun. Seungkwan and Jamie had clicked last night and now it showed every more as they teased you based on things the latter told him about you. Throughout the afternoon, you and Jihoon found yourselves gravitating towards one another again. Just as Kazuki and Jamie did or Seungkwan and Vernon. So he didn’t feel left out, you walked close to Chan, asking about his interests and keeping conversations flowing between you. 

Pictures were taken, plenty were littering your camera roll now; candid shots of them, selfies with a few, and a singular picture of Jihoon.

You don’t know what possessed you to take it. He was just standing in the afternoon light, reading something on his phone as he waited outside of the ice cream shop you had found with the security guard. His posture and expression was relaxed. He looked content if you had to place a word to it. After snapping the pictures, he had perked up, glancing through the window at you. You had turned away to face the front of the line, feeling the heat spread across your cheeks. Unbeknownst to you, Jihoon was laughing silently to himself, warmth filling his chest. 

Upon arrival back at the hotel, you all came to an agreement that you would go out again for pizza with your little cluster later in the evening. Mimi had texted you that the papers were signed albeit with some minor questions that an email from the management team wasn’t unable to handle. An email thread from PR, management, and the legal representative were hammering out final decisions before you got one email attachment from Hyeji. 

Jihoon was walking you back to your room, hands shoved in his pockets when you stopped. Opening the attachment led to the formal announcement draft written consecutively from Korean, English, Japanese, and Mandarin. 

“ What? Is something wrong?” 

You shook your head, eyes intently scanning over each and every word. “ They want me to approve the draft for the announcement.” 

You felt him pressed up beside you a moment later, reading the text over your shoulder. 

It was simple and to the point, nothing too frilly. You both shared a look. You were curious if he had any issues with it. With both approvals, you replied back, giving the okay and it began the wait…

[rgr-pop]

we had literally just had a user services meeting where my supervisor said the library decided not to put any high time sensitive stacks project on the agenda for the summer. she was like please use your vacation time!

the next monday at 3pm our director read our meeting notes, became mad, and decided unilaterally to assign us (just me and my supervisor plus my students if i have them) to shift the whole general collection by august starting now. more or less out or nowhere (i spent last summer and fall outliningwhat we’d need to do and getting trained up while i was creating a whole oversize collection from scratch but was told up til a few weeks ago that it wouldn’t go on the calendar—primarily because we don’t have the staff.)

we asked for the plan and he said “shifting ldoesn’t need a plan. just move the books. distribute the evenly across the shelves with each shelf at 60-75% fill capacity.” (WHICH and okay math?)

please if you’ve ever planned or participated in a collection shift chime in. not sure i can possibly explain how deranged this is

fun fact TS isn’t sure how many volumes are in our collection due to not being inventoried in about a decade. the director didn’t have a sense within 10,000 of how many books he was asking us to move even if a shift was just moving books from one location to another (it’s not). we were gonna focus on missing and inventory over the summer (fun fact we have a missing list about SEVEN PERCENT OF THE COLLECTION!!!) it’s good practice to always measure the materials on the shelf for a shift but it’s essential when you don’t have a well maintained collection— the other way we would make the estimation of how to distribute a collection evenly would be to use a formula estimating volumes per linear inch in various collection types. but again we have a 7% missing collection lmao

so over the past two and a half workdays i’ve been working a 10 page project plan all by myself — planning stacks projects is not my job. i’m still a clerk with some extra technical duties on paper. i make about 24k in a year working part time. the people doing this task at msu make 2-3 times what i make. there are two administrators above me, one who is lying about the work itself and being insane (also the worst at his job or anyone alive), the other doesn’t know how to do any of this. and she’s dedicated herself to getting caught up and this makes me feel a million times better but in theory on principle i should not do this (he will make me “move the books” regardless sooo)

we have this thing in my unit called responsibility dollars you can apply for to get a small bonus for a project outside your job description. if i was full time i would be eligible for an extra $3.25 or so, but as part time i can only get $1.20. so onward requesting my $33 per week summer stipend.. my director might block admin from approving it because he doesn’t believe a plan is required. i should just move the books! (google how to plan a library shift if you’re interested in my work)

anyway the problem is that i really enjoy doing this and would love to do a good job at it. it’s not happening in august lol be real. what rows this man want us speed shelving for. TO WHAT END?? WHY?? i will see this through and start applying to archives jobs—the real core of the “thrown into the most chaotic situation imaginable and plan a lil system” field—it’s what i’m good at and i’m putting this stupid shit in my portfolio. all i actually want is to not have my work openly disrespected by a man who wants the library to literally crumble because he hates queer people so much ! he still by the way refuses to speak directly to me or read anything i produce 🤷‍♀️

my supervisor texted me this morning at 11 am asking me if i was at work (i was in the staff kitchen and didn’t see it til hours later bc i was AT WORK not ON MY PHONE and she didn’t use work communication) so now i’m paranoid that they’re watching my time, which is insane bc i’m so much more productive… he tried this last year too around the incident. challenged some hours i worked out of nowhere and said he didn’t remember me being here and i was like ok there’s nothing i can do to demonstrate that?? so i had to take hours i worked off my timecard. to my knowledge no one else but me is required to do time tracking or has had their time challenged —only Me who accused him of homophobic retaliation and got disciplined for it and can now get fired for any reaaaason :’) so anyway i worked til 11 pm monday and i will be here til 8 every night the rest of the week due to paranoia

[never-not-ever]

Work Memories

I lean against the ledge of my bathroom sink, cross my ankles and close my eyes and I'm transported back to my job. It's 10:30pm and we're all near the end of our shift. Most of the kids are in their rooms. Maybe one or two are in the hall, coming up to get a phone to call home or to just say goodnight to us. I close my eyes and lean against my bathroom sink and it's like I'm leaning against the back counter at the nurses station. I can easily see down both halls, eyes on the unit.

One of my coworkers is printing the new checks sheet for the overnight shift. Another counselor at a computer doing the last of their notes. There's a couple of my coworkers at the desk so I go in the back and chat with the nurses.

10:50pm and some of the night crew start to trickle in. "You're still here?" was something I heard often because when I came in at 7am they were leaving their shift going home for the day. My shift often didn't end til 11:30pm so I'd see them again later that night. There was this one night counselor who'd always give me a hug, I loved her. We never worked together but we always chatted at the end of her shift or mine.

I close my eyes and think of a different part of the day. I'm starting the beginning of my shift and I tap my badge at the door to the unit. I pass by the med window and round the corner to the nurses station. It's either 7am and everyone's still asleep and I'm greeted by the night crew or it's 3pm and the day shift are behind the desk eagerly awaiting our arrival so they can go home. Counselors and patients say my name glad to see me or glad I'm working that night.

I can hear one of the charge nurses say "Oh good, I'm so glad you're here tonight! Can you fill out the counselor schedule for me?". I go around to my coworkers asking who wants what block. Oftentimes I'd text the people on doubles giving them first choice.

I loved my job. I loved being at work. It was like my second home. I hated seeing my kids in pain, tormented by their illnesses. I'd skip my breaks to make sure other counselors took theirs or to help out in the dining room, wherever I was needed. I'd clock out and come back onto the unit to go check in with one of my patients before I left if my schedule didn't give me any free time during my shift.

I started my job on my 30th birthday, May 9th.

May 31st

One of my patients yesterday told me I was doing a great job and I know she actually meant it. She’s a nursing student and so sweet. She was one of the first patients whose name I remembered just because she was so nice to me. Her compliment really meant a lot to me and I feel like I’m going to remember her for the rest of my career and I truly mean that.

I still remember her name.

June 2nd

There was a patient earlier who saw I was doing snack and was like “you’re with with us, yay” and that was the best feeling.

Last night some MHC who was from a different floor said "I wouldn’t have thought you were new”.

June 30th

"___ I missed you!!” From a patient the second I walked into work even though I was here last night.

Then all the “___ you’re doing group/meals, yay, we love ___”. My heart...

July 7th

In other news my supervisor pulled me aside the other day and I was like “uh oh” and he laughed and said “don’t uh oh me”. Typically they wait a little longer before they have new hires train newer hires but I guess I’m doing so well they’re going to have me help train some of the new co-op kids coming in.

I'm going to stop now. I don't want to look too cocky or conceited.

I was held up so high, I used to be great They used to cheer when they saw my face Now, I fear I have fallen from grace

Lyrics from Taylor's song Castles Crumbling hit too close to home. I was great. I was amazing.

Power went to my head, and I couldn't stop Ones I loved tried to help, so I ran them off And here I sit alone, behind walls of regret Falling down like promises that I never kept

All that power did go to my head. I worked too much. I started to get burnt out. But I didn't stop.

I don't know how it could've ended this way People look at me like I'm a monster Now they're screaming at the palace front gates, used to chant my name Now they're screaming that they hate me

Except I do know how it ended that way. It was all my fault and I didn't know how to keep boundaries. I can only imagine what my coworkers said about me. The charge nurse who was always so happy to work with me "I can't believe that...". My overnight friend who used to always give hugs, I can just see her open mouthed when she learned what happened. My supervisor training the new hires and when he gets to the boundaries powerpoint using me as an example, "I just lost one of my best lead counselors, amazing at her job, but crossed boundaries with a patient".

I'm not looking for pity and please, please no hate. I just needed to get this out there. I was amazing until I wasn't. All those good memories from my old job haunt me more than the bad ones.

A year later and this loss (albeit my fault) still destroys me and fills me with so much self hatred that I never knew was possible to have. I know it's in the past and I should just move on. Believe me if it was that easy I would. But I can't. Each day that goes by gets closer and closer to the anniversary of my last day at work. Then to relive the horrible week that followed. I really do need to stop.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #123

What do you like about the house you live in? I mean, the house itself is nice. But I absolutely despise its location, and the fact our landlord is a very long-time family friend (she was actually mine and my older sister's science teacher in high school, and our families really connected when she met me and I shut the disrespectful-ass class the fuck up for not listening to her)... and it just complicates things. Primarily because Tobey is 500% the person who will NEVER let you forget the great kindnesses she does for you; she wants endless recognition for doing good things. She's can also be REMARKABLY rude, just shoving her nose into business that is never hers, fully intent on giving her uneducated opinion (this woman, who has zero kids, literally asked my mom's former co-worker "shouldn't [your LITERAL INFANT son] not be nursing anymore?", and oh my god Ariel almost fucking decked her). Tobey is just A LOT. My whole family - Mom especially - can barely stand her anymore, but it's not like we can do much when she literally owns the house she doesn't charge full rent for, but only because otherwise we'd still be homeless.

Have you ever played paintball? Did you get hit? No, and it absolutely does not look fun.

How do you feel today? Tell me about it. I'm okay now, but it's been a tired day. I was physically unable to sleep 'til past 3 AM this morning because I was experiencing a fully active anxiety attack for over an hour, but it'd been building up for more. I had to miss PT today because it was scheduled early and I texted my mom at like, 2 AM telling her to not wake me up because I needed sleep so fucking badly.

Do you ever use a laptop in bed? Not anymore, because I quite literally lived in bed with laptops for many years approaching my trauma, and it was this behavior that caused my leg muscles to eventually atrophy. Nowadays, the mere idea of chilling in bed for just a little while with it makes me freak out, I just can't let myself.

Are you wearing socks right now? What color are they? No; I actually really, really dislike socks. I will only ever wear them if I put on normal shoes, but I almost solely wear flipflops. It's a sensory thing, I just REALLY hate the feeling of them.

Are your parents still together? If not, do you know why? No. Financial shit, supposedly Dad cheating on Mom with his now-wife and Dad also being suspicious that SHE was cheating (I'm fully aware she didn't), and Mom has said that he was also making certain sexual demands that led to more fighting. Eventually one day while only Dad and I were home (Mom and Nicole were out of town at a dance competition), he packed a suitcase and just left. I still distinctly remember him peeking into my room and asking if I'd be fine alone, and I said yes because I thought he was just going out to do something and be back. For some dumb fucking reason I didn't immediately figure it out when I saw the suitcase.

Have you ever been evicted? Why? Yes, because Mom couldn't keep up with rent.

Would you say you’re an organized person? For the most part, I think. I've absolutely noticed I've been becoming more organized lately, as well as more attentive to tidying stuff up. Which I'm fucking ecstatic about, because I struggle with that stuff.

Have you ever worked as a manager or supervisor? Ha, no.

Do you eat at a table or on the couch? Usually the couch, and depending on what we're having we might take out small foldable tables to sit in front of us. We usually only eat at the table for more formal occasions like Christmas, or if we have certain company.

What was the last thing you voted for? Probably a Tumblr poll, haha.

Do you remember much from high school? My memories of high school are, for the most part, almost scarily vivid. I remember the smallest details. My memories of the years with Jason are specifically so aggressively trained into my brain, and we started dating when I was a sophomore. And guess what, I DON'T remember my freshman year all that well.

What’s the longest you’ve ever stayed awake? Why did you do it? Around three days, because I was manic.

Have you ever been wrongfully accused of something? Yeah, I think most people have at some point. Nothing like, criminal, but other things.

What are the five apps on your phone that you use most often? Instagram, Facebook, Tumblr, Pinterest, and Discord.

Would you change your name if you got married? I do plan on taking Girt's surname if we get married, even though I hate his more than I do mine, haha. I just want to. I feel like I would with any other partner too, of any gender.

Were you in any clubs in high school? Yes: Honors and Art Honors. Uh, maybe one more? I can't remember.

Do you share a bathroom with anyone? Yeah. Mom will usually use the one in her room, but sometimes she'll just use the hall one. The hall one is what everyone else uses that comes here, too.

Have you ever had a panic attack? Ohhhh yes. They are honestly one of THE scariest things you can experience. I'm more prone to anxiety attacks, though.

What’s your favourite kind of frosting? It's hard to go wrong with chocolate.

Have you ever taken a painting class? Yes, during my last college attempt. My instructor told me I was really good at it (she said I was one of the class' best, but I think she mighta just been saying that when she learned I might be dropping out), but I definitely begged to differ. I wasn't bad at it, but more than anything I just found painting extremely stressful with how damaging mistakes can be. Yeah, you can wait for something to dry and paint over it, but that doesn't always work and sometimes it's also just very noticeable that you covered something. I felt too much pressure to get everything right. I also HATED that we couldn't like, sketch with a pencil or something first.

Is there a store or restaurant where you’re considered a regular? No.

How old were you when you started wearing a bra, if ever? Oh I don't remember.

What was the last video game you played? Some of the Spyro: Ripto's Rage! remake, quite a while ago. Girt and I have been going back and forth between that and Silent Hill 2, but we haven't played for a lil while. OH, I played World of Warcraft for maybe not even 15 minutes earlier, but that's a computer game. Still a game though, so w/e.

Are there any recipes you really want to try? BROSEPH my sister Misty recently shared a picture + recipe of an alcoholic beverage named after the Aurora Borealis because of the colors and holy FUCKING shit I want to try it. Girt's sister also shares recipes on FB a lot and basically every single one I see I want to try, girl let me move in 😭

Has anyone asked how you feel today? No. Girt pretty much always does at some point, but today's a work day for him so he's busy. He'll be over tonight though.

What’s your favourite cookie? Uh, probably just a soft chocolate chip one.

Do you have a doorbell at your house? Yes.

Have you ever visited someone in a psychiatric home or ward? No, I was always the one being visited. My older sister was in one following an abusive relationship, but I know I never visited. I don't know why... The hospital was far away though, so maybe that. Or I was just scared of mental hospitals because I hadn't been in one yet, but was definitely dealing with mental illness. I would absolutely believe that perhaps I was afraid of it upsetting me too much.

What was the last podcast you listened to? Do you listen to it regularly? I can't remember what it was called, but it was with Girt and basically told true murder mystery stories. The guy was a great storyteller, I was really into it.

When was the last time you threw up? Why were you sick? It's been years since I actually did, back when I was on a medicine my body really didn't agree with, but not even a week ago I think, I woke up feeling sick as hell and when I actually got up, ended up sitting on the bathroom floor in front of the toilet, actively fighting vomiting. Like it was THERE, I just didn't let myself; if I'd accepted "I need to puke" and actually looked at the toilet, I absolutely would've hurled. This happened while I was on my period, and it was THE most aggressively symptomatic period I've had in my *ENTIRE* life, so I blame it entirely on that.

What was the last thing you wrote in a word document? This survey, haha. Because I combine so many, they take a while and I use it to save progress.

Do you know anybody who is gay and married? I'm pretty sure I do? I know he's gay, but I can't remember if he's married... but I think so.

What did you last take painkillers for? A monstrous headache that resulted from extreme stress and anxiety, and then crying too.

Are there any hobbies you want to get back into? ugh I need to start DRAWING again

Have you ever shared a home with a friend? Not legally, but basically, with both Jason (and our two friends that were also a couple) as well as Colleen, each for a few months. I... think, in the apartment w/ Jason case. I really can't remember clearly how long I was there.

Have you ever been on a date with someone you met online? How was it? Well, technically. Sara was an online friend first for a very long time, then we dated long-distance, but we did go on a breakfast date once while I was there.

Do you call it a couch, sofa, lounge or something else entirely? Couch.

When was the last time you used a pair of headphones and what for? Right now; I'm listening to the German version of "Monsoon" by Tokio Hotel. I love the original, but this one is even more beautiful.

What sort of games do you like to play? My absolute favorite is horror games, especially those that are psychological horror, and NEVER shit that is just solely a jumpscare fest. Put some SUBSTANCE into your horror games, man, versus just triggering a natural body reaction to surprise. I also adore games set in a completely fantasy universe; the bigger and more complete the world, + the more unique it is, the better (I think Elden Ring is the best example of this that I've EVER encountered, FromSoft knows how to fuckin do it). I love nostalgia games too, specifically Spyro (honestly, almost ANY game with a big dragon focus are automatic wins for me, haha), and I've invested an insane amount of time (literally over a full year of collective playtime, seeing it makes me want to unalive lmfao) into World of Warcraft, which is an MMORPG. It's the only MMO I've played though BECAUSE of how severely I was once addicted to it; I'm afraid to try any other ones because I never want to relive how dependent I once was on a game. I only got better when I had no choice but to stop for over a year, maybe even near two; even when I first started playing it again, I had anxiety attacks every night for a good few days because I was so scared it was going to happen again, but thank GOD it didn't. I still play it a lot, just because I have such an empty schedule and it's a strong way to kill time, but I'm able to have days where I'm like "eh I don't wanna log on" so don't, and I'm also keen to do other things if something more exciting is presented to me, especially if it involves family or friends. That once wasn't the case.

Have you ever been to a baby shower? What was the baby’s name? Yeah; my sister had one for all of her kids (which she didn't want, but was encouraged by others for various reasons): Aubree, Ryder, and Emerson. I know I also attended my former dance teacher's for her second child, Caydance (yes she literally spelled it that way because of "dance" lmfao), and MAYBE her first, Colton, but I don't remember it. Then there was Jenn's, Jason's brother's wife, for their first son I'm still fucking devastated I never got to meet and love, Dominic. I was lucky I even got to go to it, because Jason and I had already broken up very recently. That day was honestly awful because I learned he was already talking to another girl <333333 I think that's everyone's I've been to.

What mode of transport did you take to high school? Mom drove us.

Name a personality trait of yours that you like. I cherish and am very thankful that I'm deeply empathetic.

Name something about your physical attraction that you dislike. More than anything else, my weight. I don't inherently think fat people are ugly, at all, but of COURSE I think so for myself.

What gifts do you usually receive at Easter? Just some candies from Mom. I'm sure she'll get a Voltage for me too, because of how I've been avoiding soda but always miss it.

Who was the last person you sent an email to? It was just a link for my mom to look at.

Are there any posters in your bedroom? Yes, but I'm probably taking them all down (maybe I'll keep the meerkat one up) when I FINALLY redecorate my room to a more minimal, nature theme. Before that happens though, I honestly need more decor to prevent my room from being depressingly blank.

Do you know anyone who is an actor? Pretty sure no? I feel like I know at LEAST one person who's been in a small project or something, but definitely no bigger actors.

How many weddings have you been to? Bobby (brother) and his ex-wife Scarlet's, Randi (another - and my favorite - dance teacher) & Shane's, Jonathan & Jenn's, and uh... I feel like that's it? At least, as far as attending on a personal level. I did take pictures of my sister's friend Meg's wedding, as well as this random bitch named Shonda's who never paid me more than the $15 sitting fee (and I shot the whole-ass wedding process from preparation to finish while dying of dehydration in the summer hell-heat and did entirely thorough postproduction, YES I'm still fucking salty), as well as Bethany & Spencer's, a brilliant couple who's had me take a lot of pictures. Besides Ashley, they were THE most supportive people of getting my name out there as a photographer, and they actually learned about me through Ash.

Do you watch YouTube? What channels do you like? LITERALLY constantly, haha. I'm either watching something on the side or have music on. These days I've been most into watching Game Grumps, John Wolfe, WoolieVS, jacksepticeye, and Gab Smolders, but I enjoy SO many more.

What’s your alcohol of choice? Fruity, sweet stuff, like sangrias. There can't be a strong alcohol concentration, because that taste is total shit.

Have you ever used a public pay phone? No.

Do you have a Twitter account? It EXISTS, but is only ever used for like, giveaway stuff if there's one shown on a different social platform that I'm VERY into. That kinda stuff doesn't even happen once a year, probably.

What’s the longest you’ve been without showering? As someone who struggles with this, especially before I had a shower chair, I'm not comfortable sharing this.

Name one of your guilty pleasure songs. Y'all I fuckin love "Flesh" by Simon Curtis 😭😭😭 and honestly a lot of Hot songs slowed down w/ reverb help me PLEASE

Have you ever made an item of clothing? No.

What was the last topic you read about? Various social justice statistics.

Name some of your favourite sitcoms. That '70s Show is #1, but other notable ones I enjoy are The Nanny, The Golden Girls, The Munsters, The Addams Family, The Beverly Hillbillies, and I Love Lucy. Most of those I was kinda raised with by watching with my mom. <3

Who is the 7th contact in your phone and how did you meet them? [TW: RAPE] Katie. She's my mom's oldest child. I can't remember how old I was when I actually met her though; Mom had to pretty much give Katie up for adoption because she was alone and couldn't care for her (after being kicked out of her home because she was literally drugged and date-raped out of wedlock, her mom was fuckin' peachy), and it was only later in life when Katie was an adult that I met her. I don't remember it at all, though.

What shirt do you wear the most? If they're clean, my go-to tank tops are generally either of my candy skull ones; I'm almost always in tank tops because that's what I sleep in. If we're talking NORMAL shirts, definitely my "equal in our bones" Cloak one.

Has anyone ever come out to you? Yes, an old school friend. I don't remember her name anymore.

Have you ever been part of a bridal or groom’s party? My sister's, yes. Idk if this counts as being in their party, but at Jonathan & Jenn's wedding, I was seated at the main table with Jonathan's family, beside Jason. Actually this reminded me, the picture that was used for their mother's obituary was a shot from the wedding, of her smiling and dancing, and you can see me seated there in the background. Seeing that picture on Facebook basically stabbed me in the fucking heart, like it physically hurt, because it reminded me that I was once there in her life, but wasn't any longer. I think I'm going to die grieving the fact I never got to tell her goodbye.

Are there any rooms in your house that don’t have windows? Yes, both bathrooms.

What’s your go-to order from KFC? I don't go there.

What was the last album you listened to in full? Uh I'm not sure, but probably one of Rammstein's when I decided to go through their entire discography lmfao

[awesomerextyphoon]

Cozy by the Fire

Summary: You and your winter loves enjoy a nice evening by the fire.

Pairing: Stucky x Plus-Sized Female Reader

Rating: 18+ / Mature

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Kissing, Implied Smut, People Being Assholes

A/N: This is a request from @saiyanprincessswanie​. We’re pulling for you, girl! Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics​.

Masterlist

“How do I look?” you asked twirling around in a Butterscotch sweater dress with a thick black dress belt. It was your boys’ favorite and you wanted to treat them to something special.

“Amazing!”

“You’re just saying that, Wanda.” Wanda telekinetically placed the last of the food on the table.

Somehow, you were able to convince Wanda to help you bake enough Butter Toffee Chunk, Glazed Lemon Ricotta Cookies, Black and White Spiral, and Peanut Chocolate Chunk Cookies to celebrate the Holidays since no one had the time (no one wants to go to the shed). You even spiked their hot chocolate with a few drops of Asgardian Mead (they love the kick).

“I’m not! You look amazing and those boys are damn lucky! Nat would totally agree.”

“Alright, alright,” you acquiesced, “Thank you so much, Wanda.”

“No problem,” Wanda waved the compliment, “They’re closing in, so I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thanks again!”

Wanda barely levitated out of your quarters before you heard their powerful footsteps.

“Ugh, fuck doll, is this for us?” Bucky exclaimed as he eyed the table.

“Of course!” you replied as you pulled him in for a kiss.

“You didn’t have to, sweetheart.” Steve pouted interrupting your passionate kiss with Bucky.

“Well, you said you missed having cookies by the fire during the holidays and I wanted to surprise you.”

“All of this for us, huh?” Steve asked incredulously eyeing the medley of luxurious Honey-Tenderized Boeuf Bourguignon, Creamy Mashed Potatoes, Spicy Honey Fried Chicken, Hearty Lasagne, Texas BBQ Brisket, Baked Ziti, and BBQ Ribs.

“I thought you would be hungry.” you reasoned smirking at their growling stomachs.

“Looks like you were correct.” Bucky conceded eyeing the lasagne.

“So, Wanda?” Steve inquired grinning at you lowering your head in embarrassment.

“Yes, but she used my recipes,” you huffed, “C’mon let’s eat before it gets cold!” you exclaimed skipping (yes, you read that right) towards the food.

“What did we do to get blessed with an angel like her?” Bucky wondered wrapping Steve in a side hug.

“I don’t know, Buck. I don’t know.” Steve cooed into Bucky before kissing him.

  It all started with probably one of the worst jokes by some of your former classmates. Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming.

Natalie, your former college dorm mate, told you that Jacques Becker, your college crush and total babe, was interested in you. Anwen, your best friend, said to get over it, but you couldn’t quit the fantasy.

You put on your best clothes, actually putting makeup only to have him text you saying that he would be a few minutes late. It was okay for the first twenty minutes, you chalked up to bad weather. Then twenty became fifty, eighty, and so on.

After two hours, the bartender passed you a shot of bourbon on the house. Your eyes started to well up with tears.

He stood you up.

To make matters worse, it was pouring outside and you forgot your umbrella. You made it about 10 yds (9.144m) before you tripped on an uneven sidewalk.

A flash of light went off, but you ignored thinking it was a car.

  To your absolute horror, Jacques posted the whole thing as a prank on Instagram. You could barely make eye contact at your place of work.

As if you needed another reason for everyone to hate you. You already felt out of place with everyone looking down at you for your apparent ‘lack of talent’ and ‘slovenly aura’ (?).

Patricia, your ‘hot’ co-worker, smirked at you while sharing the video with the whole floor knowing full well you wouldn’t do anything. Both your supervisor and the head of HR were always on her side and she knew this job was the best you were gonna get in this economy.

You went home in tears that day. Luckily, Anwen and Caterina came over for emotional support.

  It wasn’t until you decided to leave the house for a junk food run to Trader Joe’s did your luck change. You were in the mood for Sweet Plantain Chips and Scandinavian Swimmers and seriously need the pick-me-up. You were three blocks away when you bumped into someone.

Apologizing profusely, you raised your head to find the person was Wanda Maximoff, one of the Avengers. She was also having a shitty day if the puffy red eyes and tear streaks were any indications.

You handed her a tissue and recommended a bakery a few blocks away. You told her to mention your name and they’ll give her some free sweets.

You had worked there a few years back and created half the menu, so it was no big deal.

She thanked you for your kindness and discretion and went on her way.

You felt a little better making someone else smile.

  Unlike most people, you were satisfied with making an Avenger smile, which is why you stopped dead in your tracks while you were in the recommended cafe three months later.

Wanda, the Scarlet Witch, barged into the cafe with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes in tow. She insisted they try the cinnamon rolls.

The crowd parted in semi-reverence; some people took out their phones, someone even bowed (why?). Imani, the barista and an old acquaintance, almost dropped an espresso order at the sight of them.

You couldn’t blame her. They were the two of the most beautiful men on the planet towering over everyone in the bakery.

Wanda was about to leave when she spotted you in the corner booth. You wanted the ground to swallow you up you were so anxious. You didn’t need another reminder of how inadequate you are.

No one will ever desire a fat loser with no talent despite what your friends and sisters say.

So it came as a surprise that the two Adonises waved and strode towards you. Steve asked if you were the one who came up with the Butter Toffee Chocolate Chunk recipe.

You almost cursed yourself for your brain short-circuiting when Linda, the manager, finally got out of the restroom to proudly confirm that you came up with half of the menu. She even offered a tray of some of your creations.

Bucky grinned and said that the whole compound raved at goodies Wanda would bring during missions.

You peeped a thank you for the praise not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself.

Both of the devilishly handsome men chuckled and hoped they would see you again.

You smiled knowing that’ll never happen though you didn’t fail to feel the sorrow carve itself into your heart.

  Your sorrow was short-lived.

Somehow one of them slipped a piece of paper with Steve’s number on it.

You stared at it for what felt like hours thinking that if you blinked it would disappear.

You didn’t tell anyone, not even Anwen or Caterina.

You didn’t know if it was another prank; if it would end up like last time. But maybe, just maybe, they were being sincere.

With a huff of newfound confidence, you said fuck it and dialed the number.

  You were glad you did.

Being with Steve and Bucky has been nothing but a wonderful dream. They were incredibly attentive and loving, always giving you words of encouragement, leaving little gifts around your apartment, and not laughing at your dreams.

Especially after the ‘scandal’.

It seems that the fact that either Captain America or the reformed Winter Soldier wanting anything to do with a ‘fat slob who promotes an unhealthy lifestyle’ is baffling to the masses.

The tabloids and internet were strewn with horrible pictures of you from high school and college. The ‘prank video’ resurfaced to your ever-mounting shame. No matter where you went, you couldn’t escape the jeers, especially at work.

The final straw was when Patricia snatched your lunch and threw it in the trash and declaring that you didn’t need to eat such ‘fattening junk’ since you were already ‘ ‘such a blimp’. The worst part was that no one came to your defense. Some even sneered; whether it was envy or disgust, it still devastating.

You didn’t leave your room for three days.

Nat rushed your sisters and friends to your apartment for an impromptu ‘girls night’. Nat and Tony made sure to have a ‘chat’ with the leaker, and your WW2 hero lovers made sure you felt extra loved when they returned from their mission.

So much so that you didn’t leave their quarters for a week.

You gave as much as you got which was hard, but you tried your best. You made baked goods for when they returned from missions. You comforted Bucky whenever he had a nightmare along with Steve, and you cheered Steve up whenever he felt remorse about the time he’s lost.

  “Fuck, that was amazing, angel.” Bucky sighed patting his satiated tummy.

They devoured the food because of course, your super soldiers would have black holes for stomachs.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“How did your interview go, sweetheart?” Steve inquired masking a burp with his fist.

“Well,” you stood and grabbed a piece of paper, “I got the job!!!” You squealed. You vowed to get a new job after the scandal deciding that you’ve had enough of your toxic workplace. So you decided to go after your dream job, a creative technologist at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Your father had dissuaded you from doing it earlier saying it was a ‘fanciful occupation’.

You wanted to get on your own despite both Tony’s and your lovers’ protests, not wanting the tabloids to have yet another reason to attack you. It took some time, but you got an interview after tacking down a lead through Linda’s friend’s cousin.

And after three months of lying in wait, you got the offer.

“Congratulations, doll!!” Steve resounded as he lifted you and twirled you around their quarter’s living room.

“We’re so proud of you!” Bucky exulted as he tossed you into the air.

“Bucky, please, no more!” you giggled. Tears streaming down your face from all the laughing.

Bucky acquiesced to your cries and set you down on an ottoman. Both super soldiers gave each other a sideways glance and grinned.

“What’s going on?” you asked, a bit put off by their sudden silence.

“Close your eyes, sweetheart.” Steve requested.

“Okay…”

“Stop laughing! We’re serious!”

“All right, fine!” you chuckled as you closed your eyes wondering what shenanigans they would pull.

You soon felt a weight on your chest and ears as both your Brooklyn boys kissed the juncture between your jaw and neck.

“Okay, open your eyes, angel.”

“Oh...why...why’d you do this?” you gasped at what was before you. Both of them were holding a mirror showing you wearing a Winter Princess Snowflake Pendant and a set of Sparkling Diamond Tassel Earrings.

It was the nicest thing anyone’s ever gotten you.

“We wanted this to be your Christmas present, but we thought it would be best for this occasion,” Bucky explained.

“Don’t worry. We’re--what’s wrong sweetheart?” Steve queried noting the tears welling up in your eyes hoping they weren’t being too forward.

“It’s just...thank you for being so wonderful!!” you peeped, unable to hold in your happiness anymore.

“We just want to take care of you, sweetheart. You’ve been so good to us.” Steve purred into your skin as he made a line of kisses from your cheek to your collarbone between each word.

“You’ve comforted us whenever we had a nightmare, left us affirmation notes, always making us feel loved and wanted. It means the world to us!” Bucky hummed as he leaned in for a soulful kiss.

And they meant it. So many women threw themselves at their feet, undeterred by the polite rejections. It got to the point that Tony had to screen the reporters after an undercover groupie tried to rush them.

You on the other hand actually cared about them, not the titles or the fame. You made them feel seen and they could never repay you.

“Thank you, doll. You’re our angel and there are no words that can describe how much you mean to us.” Steve declared.

  The rest of the evening was filled with your boys recounting tales from their childhoods, both of them taking turns being embarrassed.

Wanda had to rescue Sam a few times from being pummeled by Bucky for the crime of swiping some cookies from his pile even after you chastised him, but you couldn’t stay mad at him for long with those puppy dog eyes.

Both you, Wanda, and Nat pelted Tony for being obnoxiously off-key with his caroling.

All in all, it was a fun night.

  “Goodnight, Bucky, Steve,” you whispered laying between them by the fireplace under a luxuriously soft throw rug.

“Goodnight, angel.”

“I know he took my cookies.”Bucky started.

“Give it a rest, Bucky!” you hissed softly not wanting to have today be upended by Bucky’s pouting.

“Had to have been at least a dozen-”

“We made enough cookies to satisfy 50 people!”

“I’ll get him tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t. Because if you do, I’ll tell Tony what happened to his second favorite watch.”

“...Fine.”

“Good.” you ended smiling to yourself for never feeling so complete as this moment.

[moonctzeny]

Promotion

This is technically a part 2 of my fic Work for it but it can be enjoyed on its own!

pairing: supervisor !johnny x intern ! female reader x assistant !haechan

genre: smutty goodness (this will send me to hell vip)

word count: almost 14k

summary: “After you fuck the Sales’ department supervisor, Johnny Suh in your office during an overtime, you’re left to deal with the unavoidable lingering emotions that come with getting his dick on the regular. At the same time, his assistant and your best work buddy, Donghyuck, who initially helped you with getting with his boss, realises his growing crush on you that is too big to be ignored at this point. With their masterful skills in seduction, you’ve ended up tangled in a sexual game with the both of them, all the while trying to move up from an intern to a permanent worker in the company”

warnings: threesome w/ two doms, alcohol consumption, mention of food (meat, lettuce, eggs), oral, overstimulation, thigh job, at some point- reader borrows a shirt from haechan and it’s mentioned that it’s ‘too big on the shoulders’, thigh riding, office sex, pussy slapping, choking, fingering, sir kink thrown in there at some point, a little degradation bc this is my fic we’re talking about

a/n: omg it’s finally done! I really love this so I hope you guys like it as well :)

taglist:  @rainodanna​, @markresonates​, @unknown5tar​, @yoongsicles​

For every other worker in the office, virtually nothing had changed. 

They relive the same mundane routine, Monday after Monday, the same excruciating 8 hours and short cigarette breaks. The same trees, stuck in their ceramic imprisonment would greet them in the company’s entrance. Rigid and dusty and reeking of cheap plastic. It’s not like they’d come alive, open their little mouths on their thylakoid membranes and tell everyone you fucked mr. Suh, the Sales Department’s supervisor, in your office during your overtime. No, that’s not possible, you reminded yourself when you pass by them every morning, giving them a side eye for good measure, as if that would scare them off their zombie state.

And you were the same too, completing your tasks and meeting your deadlines. Blending in with the rest of the company’s human resource, with the exception of the occasional double take of some tactless male worker here and there.

Donghyuck, however, said supervisor’s assistant and your best friend, wasn’t your typical office worker. He noticed the extra layer of cherry lip gloss coating your lips. He noticed your new perfume, sweeter than the one you used to wear. He noticed the knowing smiles between you and his boss, the heat of your body when you were around him. And it wasn’t just because he was sharp overall.

He was the one who practically got you together, planted the seed in Johnny’s head about the cute new intern of the Financial Department. He was the one who convinced him to finally make a move on you, tired of seeing you trying over and over again to seduce the supervisor to your bed. 

And when that seed finally sprouted, in the form of Johnny spitting in your mouth and taking you on your office chair like you were his last fuck on earth (according to the hair-raising description you gave Donghyuck the morning after), he should’ve been happy, right? 

It didn’t really affect his life in the slightest.

You were just y/n. His friend, his work buddy. The person whom he was close enough to let you know you had a piece of lettuce stuck on your teeth from that sandwich you had on your break. The person who texted him funny gifs of pandas falling asleep during the most boring of meetings. With your nerdy glasses and that ugly brown suit you loved wearing so much. The person he dreamt of fucking every time he fell asleep.

When you told Donghyuck you had a crush on his boss he wasn’t shocked, but the stinging buzz in his guts surprised him. He would see you waltz right past his office all perked up and pretty, to see the person you really came for, nervous as you hung from every word that left Johnny’s mouth. He’d put up with the sound of you giggling over every stupid joke that left the older man’s mouth patiently, just to wait until he’d smell your sweet perfume as you’d walk past him again. To tease you over something that would make you mad enough to notice him, glare at him, maybe even hit him.

And Donghyuck wanted to hate Johnny, he really did. His stupid boss who asked for his coffee specifically made, who was rude and cranky on Monday mornings and got the credit for all his hard work, yet Johnny was nothing of the sort. He was helpful, and kind and let him off early. He was funny and good looking and taller than him and had a six pack, damn it. If Donghyuck was being honest, he didn’t just like his boss, he admired him. It was pathetic, he thought. Most days he’d live vicariously through him. 

Sometimes he would lay on his bed at night, picturing himself to be the second lead of a romance drama that would sweep you off your feet. Everyone gets second lead fever, right? In his rem cycles, he’s handsome and hilarious and much more interesting than the main actor. He would imagine himself stretching out his rays, like the full, rising sun that he was, until they overcame the big mountain that was Johnny and reached your skin. So hot against it that you’d have to undress, remove the clothes sticking on your sweaty skin to embrace him. 

He thought about your body a hundred times too many for it to be considered healthy. The curve of your ass in your pencil skirts, the little hairs on the nape of your neck that stuck out from your tight ponytails. The runs on your tights that he wished were caused by the sharpness of his fingernails. He listened to your voice carefully, all 90 Hz of it, and played it inside his head as if it was an instrument. Putting together chords and harmonies, composing a music piece of all the ways his name would sound like coming out of your lips.

Donghyuck, Donghyuck, Donghyuck

“Earth to Donghyuck? Are you listening to me?”

It was unlike him to be out of it, especially when he was around you. He blames it on skipping coffee this morning or the shade of red of your blouse that fits you so well. Either way, he had to respond, and keep the pink from flooding his cheeks further. There’s no way you could’ve known what was going on inside his head.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. So, let me get this straight. Weren’t you the one who didn’t want a relationship?”

You were upset, he could tell. After the night of the overtime, you and Johnny had indulged in a few more nights of each other’s presence, but had kept it at that. Sex. Delicious, mind blowing, porno worthy sex, but nothing more than that. And you were starting to itch for a little bit more.

Donghyuck was right, of course. You were the one who told Johnny that this wasn’t the right time in your life for any sort of commitment, especially with someone in the workplace. This was your internship, and you were determined to get a permanent position soon, that should be your first priority. Get the bag and go. There were men everywhere. But why was your heart aching for that particular one with the long hair and the caramel eyes and the flower tattoos? 

“I just don’t want people at work to gossip about us, you know how they get. But seeing him so nonchalant about it gets on my nerves.”

Leaving his apartment at 2 am when he was sprawled out on his bed, in just pyjama pants and the light layer of sweat from the athletic sex you just had, hurt enough. It was a sight so beautifully hidden under his work attire that it soon became addictive, the withdrawal symptoms too intense for you to have your dose only once a week. 

Donghyuck scowled when you first let out a frustrated sigh, your eyes pitifully following his boss’s silhouette around. He knew you’d never really complain about it, you were set on that promotion and you deserved it too, but it was hard not to get angry. Everything he ever wanted stood willing and ready for taking in front of Johnny’s lap, how could he not claim you?

He hated seeing you sad.

“Let’s go for a drink. I think you need it.”

Even he surprised himself with the sudden proposition, blinking back at you to gauge your reaction. You were best work buddies, sure, but you never hung out after office hours alone. It would make sense for you to refuse, Donghyuck told himself, trying to soften the blow of a potential rejection. You’re probably tired from working, or maybe you’d feel awkward to be alone with him for so long. Maybe you hated to drink, or maybe you hated him. Oh God, what if you hated him? What if you only spent time with him out of social obligat-

“Sure, sounds good. Pick me up after you’re done? Since you’re on the top floor.”

Donghyuck nodded back at you, too eagerly for his liking, the gears in his brain already trying to figure out where he should take you. You excused yourself back to your office, the small pat you gave his shoulder making him grin like an idiot.

This is not a date, he reminded himself. 

He had dreamt of this moment for months now. He thought about you every time he walked past that korean bbq place, promising himself that one day he’d muster the courage to finally ask you out. This wasn’t exactly the case today, but it was as close to his imagination as possible. This is not a date.

He repeated that phrase over and over again, let it resonate inside his head. This is not a date because he is a coward and you like someone else. Was he a bad person for taking you out today? Was he taking advantage of your slight disappointment? Was that why you ever said yes in the first place? The self deprecating thoughts lit a fire in his belly and he tried to extinguish it with every shot of clear liquid that disappeared from between his full lips. Like he expected, you weren’t far behind on the drinking either, enjoying the grilled pieces of meat blissfully, moaning in satisfaction with every delicious bite.

You looked pretty before, but now, through the pink coloured glasses of intoxication, you were stunning. There was a halo of bright light surrounding you, making you look so celestial chomping on that piece of lettuce. If it was anyone else, he would pull a face of repugnance at the sight, yet Dongyuck thought that you just looked so cute, so content in that little moment and he wished he could just lean in and leave a kiss over your filled cheeks.

No, that was a dangerous thought. This is not a date, pull it together.

Donghyuck desperately tried to focus his attention somewhere else, anywhere but you would suffice. His eyes finally landed on a bowl of marinated eggs on the table, and it reminded him of the three boiled eggs he makes for breakfast every morning. He was a man of habit, following the same routine until he’d see you and you’d colour between the lines of his life, making it interesting finally. Donghyuck would fill the pot with more water than needed, just enough so that it doesn’t overflow. He liked to be closer to you than he could handle, close enough but never touching you.

Lost in his daydream, he doesn’t realise that he hasn’t talked in minutes. And when you touch his hand lightly with yours to bring him out of it, he almost feels the boiling water burning his skin.

“You’re so quiet”, you say with a chuckle, and Donghyuck makes a mental note to add this harmony to his composition, “you got drunk before I did? Are you really Lee Donghyuck?”

“Well see, I drank all this soju, so I wish I was someone else for the night.”

The statement saddened you, and you withered a little in your seat. Why did Donghyuck drink so much tonight? You came here for you to cheer up, didn’t you? Or were you so caught up in your little personal drama - that you caused yourself - that you missed hearing about his cat dying? You must offer your condolences. Did he even have a cat?

You don’t want to bring up his dead cat in case he did so you just lift your hand next to his head, and weave your fingers through his locks. He has been growing out his hair for months now, and the look might not be the most corporate-professional but it sure fit him. The ash blonde shade that he decided to colour it, brought out the tan of his skin nicely, and the hair itself though bleached was still soft to the touch. 

You see him react to the work of your fingers instantly, his expression shocking you. His mouth is hanging open in a loose ‘O’ shape, small wrinkles forming on the space between his eyebrows. You pick out small pieces of hair, one by one, letting gravity do the rest by allowing the individual hairs to return to their previous state. 

“What are you thinking about?”, you ask so softly it’s almost a whisper, and Donghyuck can only sigh.

YOU, he wants to scream, you’re in my mind all day long and I think I’m going crazy! He is full on staring at you now and there’s nothing in the world that can take his eyes off of you, off your worried eyes that seem to hold all the stars in the sky, or the soft skin of your neck that he wants to kiss and suck and break so badly. But he doesn’t, and the soju calls him a coward for it, so he settles for the next best thing.

“You are pretty”

It was just three words but they sent your mind in a frenzy. Why did it matter so much to you that Donghyuck found you pleasing to look at? He has complimented you before, even flirted with you a lot of times, yet it was always said half-jokingly, followed by a diss. But this time he was serious, no signs of alcohol clouding his eyes. He was so solemn in fact, that those three words made the heat burn on the skin of your cheeks, rising up your throat and hindering you from responding with a human sound. 

He takes one more shot, washing away the embarrassment of his sudden confession and offers to order one more fatty dish to sober up, then take a walk in the city.

The walk was relatively quiet, less awkward than it was 30 minutes ago but Donghyuck was still being uncharacteristically silent.

“I thought you said that alcohol doesn’t make you red”, you say teasingly, trying to spark conversation. 

It doesn’t actually. You were the culprit of the wash of burgundy all over his skin, accumulating even more pigmented around his ears and the freckles of his nose. You were walking side by side now, and Donghyuck thought that for the passersby you two must look like lovers. He let his brain entertain that fantasy, his hand itching to hold yours. He’d intertwine your fingers together, give your palm a little rub with his thumb. Then he’d lift the bundle of fingers on his lips, kiss the thin skin of your wrist and make the aunties that are looking at you now coo in adoration.

“Says you. You look so fucked right now.”, he jokes and you’re relieved to see him go back to his teasing self. You don’t know if it’s the chilly night, but you’re overly aware of the heat his body emits, and the smell of his cologne makes your head spin just a bit more. You’ve been sitting so close to him this entire time that you can list off most, if not all, the ingredients in his perfume. Rose, chilly pepper, orange blossom, lavender. 

“Donghyuck, I will step on you.”

“Mmm, tempting”

You shove his arm playfully and he reciprocates, but his strength is not as controlled as he thinks. The heels of your boots, slippery against the wet floor that the drizzle caused earlier, make you trip on your steps, and Hyuck is luckily there. With his quick reflexes he catches your elbows first, pulling you up against his chest and you grab his left bicep to support your weight. 

You take a deep breath, to register that you did not fall head first on the floor, and that’s when you realise how close Donghyuck is to you. His bangs are tickling your forehead, your deep pants fanning them apart. You admire his glowing skin, the wrinkles of his lips, the two moles lined parallelly with the bridge of his nose. You’re not sure what comes to you, but you raise your free hand and place it over his hot cheek, your thumb connecting those two moles with an invisible line. A raindrop, fresh out of the sky and signifying the start of a new drizzle, falls on his face and follows the trail that a tear would, his voice weak and breaking when he speaks again.

“I’m sorry”

He dips down his head then, connecting your lips and letting the plumpness of his mouth reel you in. You’re over the initial shock almost immediately and kiss him back in vigor, surprised with the heat his kiss has spread to your chest and belly. It was an ember at first, glowing in the very depth of your insides but it was soon starting to spark up uncontrollably, and you were scared of how rapidly it was fueling up. This was your friend you were kissing. So where did all this hunger for him come from?

You pull back when you realise you’re in a road full of people, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him in the eyes. Donghyuck looks disheveled and anxious, and he apologizes again before he urges you to keep walking with him.

“It’s starting to rain. We should get home.”

You walk next to him in complete silence now, stealing quick glances of his reflexion at every surface that made it possible -  the windows of the parked cars, the puddles of water on the sidewalk, a passersby’s glasses. The look on his face is unreadable, pensive if anything else, and it’s rare for the expressive Donghyuck you’re used to dealing with. Your homes are towards the same direction, his a little closer than yours, and it doesn’t take too long for you to reach the entrance of his building, your clothes not even half wet from walking without umbrellas.

Donghyuck fumbles to find his keys, his hands shaking from the adrenaline his body released from the kiss earlier, the feeling still too fresh against his lips. He stresses thinking of what to do next. Should he hug you goodnight? Apologize again for kissing you? Unlock the entrance without a word and never speak to you again? 

“I’m here”, he states dumbly, as if you’d sit at the porch of a strange house and he avoids your eyes as if you were Medusa, “Goodnight.”

You smile back awkwardly at him, waving with a hand made of clay as you wish him the same. He has turned around to unlock the door, key already at the keyhole and you turn to leave too when his voice stills you in place.

“He’s an idiot.” His back is still facing you, and when he turns to look at you his eyes finally lock with yours, as honest and earnest as ever. “Johnny. If it were me, hell, if you wanted me like that I would grab that opportunity- grab you in an instant, convince you to be mine any way I could.”

You’re stuck looking at him like a fool, trying to comprehend what he’s saying and the complications of it. He puffs out through his nose, chuckling to himself and shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter. Goodnight y/n.”

Donghyuck is half inside the entrance now and your body suddenly exits its frozen state, blocking the door from closing with your boot. He’s shocked with the sudden movement and he opens up the door further for you. You get inside the little hall without thinking, sitting firmly in front of him, a puzzled look on his face. 

“What if I told you he hasn’t even crossed my mind this whole time we were out? What if I told you I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you kissed me? Would it matter then?”

He opens his mouth momentarily, as if to speak but decides to stay silent. He already said everything he needed. It’s up to you now.

And you aren’t ready to leave yet.

You take a step forward to close the distance between you, your chests touching and you pick up the distinct smell of soju in his breath. You’re not sure if it’s that smell or the proximity but you feel drunk all over again, the yellow light of the hall shining disturbingly bright down at you and urging you to do something.

You plant a kiss over his neck, leaving a trace of the remnants of the pink lipstick you applied at the start of the workday. It was tentative, but you could still feel his raging pulse from under your lips. You could feel it get faster too, the rhythm going higher along with his body temperature and you decide on a path. A path of kisses starting from the same spot you’ve turned glittery pink, up his jawline and all the way to his earlobe.

Donghyuck clenches his jawline, you feel that too, and something snaps inside him. He just can’t take it anymore, having you so close to him, your lips on his neck and doing nothing about it. The boiling water finally spilled over the pot, hot and overflowing, and he doesn’t care if he gets burned.

You feel the cool wood against your back before you taste his tongue a second after. He has pushed you up against the entrance door, you realize, but it’s hard to comprehend anything around you when he kisses you like that. It’s the steamy, purposeful continuation of the kiss you shared earlier, and with the lack of prying eyes Donghyuck has a good idea of where he wants it to lead.

He shows you too, pushing his knee between your thighs and he feels your heat almost melt the rough fabric of his jeans. There are so many things he wants to do, so many lines he wants to cross but there is one thing he must ensure.

“Tell me you want this.”

You glide your hands upwards from his pecks to the slope of his neck and wrap them around his neck. Your body seems to act up on its own, and you feel yourself grinding down his leg that is still positioned against the wall. It feels dirty, the desperation of it all, and you connect your chest with his again before answering him.

“Lee Donghyuck. I want you to make me cum” 

You grab his hand before he gets to respond, the cool silver of his watch digging against your fingers, and you drag him to the elevator door. As if the universe had sensed your urgency, you find it waiting for you at the bottom floor, and you pull him inside with a tug of his tie.

In no time you find yourself pushed up against the wall again, and you can’t see much beyond Donghyuck’s lips, but you do catch him clumsily pressing the button to his floor with your peripheral vision. Once the elevator is in motion you feel like you can finally submerge yourself in his lips and the way his kisses take your breath away, not sure if the funny feeling in your stomach is from the sudden change in altitude or the arousal. You’re already taking his clothes off, removing the jacket of his suit off his shoulders and working the top buttons of his shirt open.

It’s him that drags you to his apartment this time, urging you out of the elevator as soon as the robotic declaim of his floor number rips through the wet sounds of you kissing. His keys are already easily accessible in his front pocket from your conversation earlier, and when he manages to unlock the entrance with trembling hands you walk inside as if you own the place.

It’s small and cozy, decorated minimally. The first thing you notice is that it smells like Donghyuck, something that should be obvious but it still overwhelms you. It’s maybe a bit stuffy from the hours he was gone yet this is the smell still lingering in your nose from his skin you were sucking just moments ago, trying to distract him from the easy task of opening the door. It’s addictive and you want it stuck on yours.

And Donghyuck does stick on your skin, discarding his tie on the floor with a strong pull and finishing the task of unbuttoning his shirt that you started in the elevator. His movements are impatient and soon he’s half naked, and you barely have time to admire his caramel skin before his hands are all over you. They start safely at the dimples of your waist, then sliding upwards to your ribcage and copping a feel of the underside of your boobs by sneaking his thumbs under the wire of your bra. You want to feel more, encourage his probing fingers so you reach to the clasp on your back, unfastening the garment and removing it through the hem of your blouse. 

Donghyuck can’t take his eyes off your chest, nipples hardened from your arousal and poking through the thin fabric. He takes his thumbs, the same thumbs that lit a fire in your belly earlier and flips the bud, toying it around and rubbing circles around it. The response from you is immediate, moans that start off soft and build up to a crescendo bouncing off the walls of his apartment.

It drives you crazy, a little bit, that smirk he has on his face now. It’s so familiar in between his features, you’ve seen it countless of times, especially during his typical teasings of you, yet is carries so much newfound weight now, so much sex appeal. He’s already giving you what you need but the climaxing is too slow for your liking, you want more and you want it now. You want what you asked him for in the lobby of this building.

Donghyuck can either read your mind or read through the increased frequency of your moans because he undresses down to his boxers, forming a trail of clothes from his living room to his bedroom, where he has led you. He doesn’t even bother to open the lights, relying on the moonlight from his window for lighting and pushing you down on his bedsheets. 

He climbs up with you, hovering over you and you move back a bit so that your head rests comfortably over his pillows. If the smile he gave you earlier had affected you, then the hungry look on his face right now almost makes you come untouched, his eyes raking up and down your body as if he doesn’t know where to start.

He decides on your calves, kissing them and moving upwards slowly and sensually, not missing the sensitive skin on the side of your knees and paying extra attention to your inner thighs. He’s still at it a minute and a half later, and you can’t tell in the dark but you’re sure they must be decorated by bite marks by now, his close proximity to the source of your pleasure making you squirm in his hold.  

It feels like ages since you last felt his fingers when he grips the soft meat of your thighs and spreads them apart. They soon move up to the hem of your skirt, rolling the fabric upwards and over your ass. You feel his breath against your pussy, making it tingle and twitch even more than it already has, and the wait feels like a new level of hell in Dante’s Inferno. 

A single finger pets you over your underwear, drawing lines over the damp fabric from your clit down to your entrance and then up again. You whimper and whine at the sensation that is half a step from what you consider satisfactory and he hooks a finger on the black lace, moving it to the side and letting you experience the cool air of the room all over again. The full exposure brings heat to your face and you breathe through the embarrassment that arouses you even more.

“Hey, Donghyuck?”

“Yes?”

“Is your cat still alive?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He licks one long stripe over your entrance, and you feel the goosebumps spreading all over your arms and legs. Nimble fingers spread your folds apart, and you hold your breath as he lets his cool spit drip from his lips and land onto your lower ones, then starts sucking over your clit. His tongue is wet and his breath is hot, the combination driving you insane. You grip the comforter, digging into it with your nails to keep yourself grounded.

“Oh my god, yes, right there”

The praise motivates him to keep trying hard, not that it will take a lot of effort to make you come undone. Donghyuck’s unprecedented touches and the newfound sexual tension they have ignited had already worked you up, his skill in oral accelerating the build up to your climax even more. And just when you thought it couldn’t get better than this he starts a series of kitten licks right over your clit, each one sending a wave of pleasure stronger than the one before.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum”

You’re grinding on his face, trying to find the right pace when you finally come undone, thighs shaking and desperately trying to push his hands away to cover up your sensitivity again. His hold is steady and he continues to lick you keenly, the lewd sound of him slurping your wetness filling the room. Your eyes open wide and you can only stare at his white ceiling during your overstimulation, the cracks and crumbling plaster caused from humidity looking like constellations in your orgasm-drunk mind. The second climax hits you suddenly but forcefully, unable to control the volume of your voice, not that you can hear yourself clearly in your daze. It’s an array of moans and screams and tiny whimpers of Donghyuck’s name, his beautiful symphony coming to life.

His appetite for you is finally satiated, and he decides to take mercy on you and remove his lips from your pulsating heat. You look so beautiful right now, he thinks, skin illuminated by the pale moonlight that is reflected on the wetness dripping from your pussy. He hovers over you again, pulling you into another kiss and you lazily reciprocate. His member is painfully hard, sliding over your slickness. You squirm and yelp everytime the fabric of his underwear grazes against your clit, your nerve endings screaming in sensitivity.

“I don’t have a condom on me”, you whisper against his lips, the taste of yourself on his tongue engaging you in the kiss again.

“I’m too tired to fuck you like you deserve anyways”

It would be criminal from you to leave him untouched like that. He looks so hot over you, messy hair and chin glistening in your juices. You absentmindedly place your nails on his collarbones, then scratch your way down over his navel. Donghyuck hisses at the numb stinging of pain, hips buckling against your pussy in the pursuit of some sort of friction. 

You move your hand even lower, slipping your fingers past the waistband of his boxers. You move past the bristles you find and grasp his member, that is not too long but an impressive girth. You manage to free it from his underwear, and you can’t really tell in the dim lighting but you bet it must have turned a purple-ish red colour. It’s leaking.

“But we don’t have a condom”

You take one of his hands in yours, giving it a kiss to calm him down, then place it over your left boob. He toys with the mound of your chest, squeezing the softness. You had other plans for him.

Connecting your knees together, you let the softness of your thighs connect, with only maybe a slither of space between them. Your hands are still on Donghyuck’s cock and you reach to hold his balls, massaging them slightly and pulling him towards you.

He takes your cue and leans forward, sliding himself between your thighs. The moan he lets out is guttural and elongated, laced with the beautiful metallic tone of his voice. He lets go of your breasts and wraps his arms around your knees, putting your calves on each of his shoulders and continues to rut his hips against you. 

“Fuck. This feels so good”

You look up to see Donghyuck’s face, contorted in a frown that can only be described as desperate, his lips puffy and red from all the licking and kissing and sucking. 

He looks painfully sexy, and you momentarily imagine all the things you would do to him if the serotonin of your double orgasm and the alcohol in your belly weren’t weighing you down. You’d gladly stay up all night for him, tugging on his long hair as you’d let him bend you in any position he wanted. You bet that thickness would feel amazing stretching you out and you moan at the thought, your thighs flexing involuntarily and making him moan even more. 

Soon he has picked up his pace, the tip of his cock reappearing between your thighs more frequently and you can feel his thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

“Fuck fuck, I’m coming”

He suddenly pushes forward, almost collapsing on top of you as a string of satisfactory groans leave his lips. His hips still with a stagger and you entrancingly watch the ropes of white dripping from his cock and landing on your blouse. It was a mess, but you can worry about it in the morning.

Donghyuck fucks your thighs slowly for a little longer, elongating his pleasure for as long as he can and soothing the crescent moons his nails formed on your skin with his fingertips. He reaches one hand to his bedroom floor where he finds a -what you hope is- clean t-shirt, and pats his cum off your blouse as best as he could.

It has gotten late and you’re both exhausted, Donghyuck’s comfortable weight on top of you lulling you to sleep. He’s hugging your hips now, head resting on your stomach and occasionally kissing your hip bones tenderly. You’re not sure when you slip out of consciousness but you do hear Donghyuck mumble something against your skin, something the kiss of Morpheus doesn’t allow you to make out.

You wake up to a white ceiling. Not just any white ceiling- a cracked, full of moisture pockets ceiling and you wonder when you let the humidity mess up your apartment this much. The culprit of your awakening, the morning sun rays that shine right on your eyes; way too bright than what you’re used to, force your eyelids to open, and it takes you a moment to adjust to the abundant light. This isn’t your apartment.

The sight of a man that greets your barely recovered rentinas shocks you, and you rub your eyes just in case you’re stuck in a lucid dream or something. You see the mess of ash blonde hair and the pile of work clothes discarded on the floor and your mind soon is flooded with last night’s events, buzzed out in your foggy memory. You sense another buzz as well, a physical one this time and you wiggle in place when you feel something hard and metallic digging in your butt. You prod a little with your fingers, trying not to wake up Donghyuck too abruptly and you realise that yes, you’ve been sitting on a phone all night.

Shouldn’t it be a Tuesday today? It’s very bright for it to be that early but surely Donghyuck must have set an alarm for the both of you last night. You yawn involuntarily, deciding to play with your phone until he wakes up as well when the bright white display pulls all the blood from your face.

8:40. You have to be at work in 20 minutes.

“Donghyuck! Hyuck!”

You didn’t care to make your touches light. They were shoves, really, pushing at his shoulders frantically to get him off of you and pull him out of his slumber. He wakes up with a gasp, trying desperately to keep his balance and failing, to then fall unceremoniously on the floor.

“What the hell?”, he groans out with a hoarse, groggy version of his voice, “My head is pounding”

“It will hurt even more once I’m done with you! You didn’t set an alarm last night? Today’s a work day!’

With his eyes bulging, he launches himself forward, grabbing the phone from your hands. 

“Shit, shit, shit”. He’s fully awake now, hands rubbing his face to come up with the next logical steps to take, in order to have you both at work on time and looking presentable. “I have a mouthwash and hairbrush in my bathroom, I’ll get ready here”

“And what the fuck am I supposed to wear?”

“Yesterday’s clothes? Are you really that concerned about recycling an outfit right now?”

You roll your eyes, pushing your blouse down and dragging his comforter off your body. 

“Did you forget about this?”

You straighten out the fabric for him to see, and the big, grossly dried out cum stains aren’t hard to notice. His face looks worried, but not necessarily apologetic, and you can almost see the scenes from the sex you shared last night play through his eyes like a porn film. 

“Your skirt is fine, right? I’ll find a shirt that fits you”

You’re spitting out the fluorescent blue liquid when he timorously walks in the bathroom to leave the piece of clothing he promised. It smells heavily of those moth-repellent sachets and looks slightly wrinkled, like something he pulled out from the depths of his closet but you don’t really have the privilege of playing Suzy Menkes right now. You pull and tuck the fabric in creative ways, in order to style the garment into something you might walk into work wearing one day, yet it’s painfully obvious to you how misfitted it is; too big around the shoulders as one would expect from a man’s shirt.

You exit the bathroom after giving up, pressed by the limited time and the sound of Donghyuck’s uneasy steps through the door. You let him freshen up as well and use the time to collect your things that are scattered all over his place - he was kind enough to bring you your bra that was discarded in his living room floor along with his shirt - and soon you were rushing out of his house and into separate cabs so as not to raise suspicion.

The rest of the day was normal, well- according to this new definition of normalcy for you. Where everything and everyone seems to follow this movie script of what a typical company must look like, while you worry that someone will probe uninvitedly into your thoughts. God knows what they would fish out. A broken record player of Donghyuck’s moans when he cums, the burn of his thick sex rubbing against your thighs, the paths of his neck veins you memorized by heart. 

You shake your head to clear it from the intrusive thoughts, and click the refresh button of your emails. The sound of keys being tapped and printers being put to use lands you back to reality, and you calmly click on the new incoming message from the Sales Department.

It was Johnny.

You’d think that after having his dick down your throat for about half a minute, getting butterflies in your stomach from the mere sight of his email address would stop being a recurring event for you. But alas, here they were, tapping their little wings in a flutter that turns into a hurricane of anxiety, and you sarcastically thank the universe for having to deal with Johnny while looking like an 80’s librarian.

You walk up the stairs like your ankle’s dragging a ball and a chain, the piece of paper in your hands getting slightly ripped from the abuse of your nervous fingers. It was a stupid document, barely half filled with any valuable information and you think it can’t be worth the calories you burned with that trip. It certainly wasn’t worth entering hell, aka mr. Suh’s office, and just the thought of him waiting for you in his fitted suit and gelled back hair is making you light headed. If Johnny was Hades then Donghyuck definitely was Cerberus, guarding his boss with his three heads and his big dick.

You leave a breath out when you realise he isn’t there, making your way onto Johnny’s office with lighter feet. He smiles brightly when he sees you, handsome as ever, and you carefully leave the document on his messy desk.

“Well, isn’t it my favourite intern”

You laugh at his sing-song tone, enjoying how warm he was being today.

“You used to avoid me like the plague and now I’m your favourite?”

“You always were my favourite”, he winks, and pushes back his hair like he knows the effect it has on you, “If someone is avoiding anyone like the plague that’s Donghyuck. I would have sent him to you but I can’t find him anywhere.”

You gulp dryly at his words, an invisible awl pinching your chest. You could feel Donghyuck slipping away from every place that you might share, in a very subtle way, but still noticeable from you. He left the kitchen hastily when you walked in to make your coffee, excused himself out of the lunch break through which you always kept him company, and now he was gone as well. Was last night such a big mistake in his point of view?

“I’m kidding, I just wanted to see you.”

He motions you to come closer and you timidly oblige, serenaded by the sound of his voice but not missing the hunger his eyes hold. He’s still seated in his big leather office chair, thighs spread out in a way that turned you on embarrassingly much, and you fit yourself in the space between his long legs. 

“He is very jumpy though, Donghyuck. Do you know what happened to him?”

Your whole body tenses up, muscles hardening defensively. “Why would I know?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that you guys are so close.”

Close. Close as in having his knee between your thighs, close as in being pushed up against his chest and the elevator mirror. Close as in knowing how his tongue feels massaging your clit. 

“Have I seen you in that before?”

You’re confused with the sudden question and when you search for the context you realise he’s talking about your- Donghyuck’s shirt. Did he smell the sex on you? The overwhelming scent of pheromones and Donghyuck’s cologne that your nose just couldn’t ignore?

“I don’t think so”, you try to answer as nonchalantly as possible, “it’s new.”

“No”, Johnny insists, and pinches the fabric with his fingers. He’s very knowledgeable about fashion, always complimenting you on your outfit choices and you know he wouldn’t let this one go so easily. “I’m sure I’ve seen this before.”

You follow his line of sight towards the ivory fabric too, as if you expected there to be written “YOUR ASSISTANT GAVE ME THE BEST HEAD OF MY LIFE LAST NIGHT”, in a bright red marker. It was a prison, in the form of 99% cotton and 1% pure anxiety, and you know you had to distract Johnny out of this subject one way or the other.

“You like it?”, you ask seductively, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

“I’d like you better without it.”

With just one strong, yet calculated pull he has you sat over the length of his thigh. Your hands land on his chest for stability, right over his pecks that fill your palms easily. There’s nothing you want more than to suck on those perfectly sculpted lips of his, but you’re not too faithful on Donghyuck’s mouthwash so you settle for the earlobe that isn’t pierced instead.

He loves the feeling, the activation of his erogenous area and the suction of your lips that resembles one of your favourite activities together.

“I like this shirt”, he starts, unbuttoning your chest into plain view, “and I love this skirt”

He runs his big hands over the plumpless of your ass, squeezing it then retracting his fingers back on your thighs. They’re cold against your burning skin and the contrast causes goosebumps to erupt in the shape of his handprint.

“You love all my skirts Johnny”

“I do. Because I can do this”

His fingers roll the hem of your skirt up your thigh, the only thing separating your heat with the smooth fabric of his slacks being your skimpy underwear. You’re pretty sure the wetness must be transferring to it already, your thoughts of Donghyuck and all the things he could do with you having you desperate for a release. Johnny pets your clit over your panties then, just a light graze of his finger that elicits a moan from you.

Your hips move on their own, slowly humping his thigh that flexes from under you. You grab his tie to help your movement when your pace picks up, enjoying his body heat that coated you. 

“Someone might see us.”

His desk chair was large, sure, but so was Johnny, and even though his back was facing the door of his office, no one could mistake the sight of you riding him as anything else. 

“I told you, Donghyuck keeps disappearing. And it seems like it won’t take you too long to cum with the way you moan like that, right babe?”

“Johnny…”

You were a whiny mess at this point, humping his leg to reach your high. He was nice enough to help you, his hands guiding you as you mess up all over him, lips stuck on the patch of skin right under your ear.

“You know, I kind of miss you calling me Mr. Suh.” he whispers as he’s sucking on your neck, and you shiver at the tone of his voice, “What do I have to do next time you come over to have you call me like that?”

You can’t contain your whimpers anymore, the stinging tears of arousal threatening to roll down your face, so you close your eyes to keep the moisture in. Everything is just too much, the pleasure of your clit rubbing on him, his nails that dig in the flesh of your hips, the heavy suggestions in his words; your orgasm was hanging by a thread and it was a matter of seconds for it to snap. And it did snap, with a bite on your neck, and along with it your eyes snapped open as well.

Donghyuck was staring right back at you.

Your eyes crossed in pleasure, blurry vision making it hard to focus on him. You were falling apart over Johnny’s body, legs shaking and insides melting with his praise. Donghyuck took the sight in from the opened door, eyes studying your face of pleasure and bare chest decorated with Johnny’s kisses peeking from his own shirt. You’d be lying had you dismissed the fact that his presence intensified your orgasm times a hundred. The exposure of your act, the naughtiness of getting caught and by him of all people. You watched as he retreated outside from the office with silent steps, to give you privacy or recover from the embarrassment or both.

And Donghyuck would be lying too, had he said he didn’t like the sight. The mere memory of your face all fucked out flushed his own in crimson red. He remembered it all clearly, from your plush lips to Johnny’s mess of a hair, to the tremble of your body. It refused to leave his mind, the scene of you getting satisfaction from another man, but not because he wanted to erase it. He thought he fit right in, right in that scene between you and his boss.  

You texted him later that day, apologizing for what he had to witness and promising him you would return the shirt as soon as you washed it. He politely allowed you to keep it, not at all acknowledging the incident from earlier, nor the night you spent together. You didn’t have the guts to ask, for you didn’t know that Donghyuck didn’t regard last night as a mistake, like you thought. He was tired of boiling in the guilt of his feelings, selfishly admitting to himself that he did not regret a single thing. He was into you, he meant every word that came out of his mouth, so why was he avoiding you all day yesterday? He was still the fucking coward.

The next day came rolling along, and with it came a long list of things you wanted to avoid. The first one was arguably dealing with your best friend, the lengthy paperwork you had to fill out being a close second.  

Your mind was occupied with a plethora of thoughts, with Johnny holding the main spot. You’d seen him in your sleep last night, starring in the extremely detailed wet dream your brain fabricated for you, hot breaths and deep thrusts forcing you into the disappointing consciousness of today’s morning.

And the pictures he had sent you right after you decided to get up weren’t helping either. His tall, half naked build occupied most of the shot, skin glistening in the after-shower steam. His toothbrush was hanging from his foamy mouth, in an attempt to make the picture look nonchalant, yet you knew his motives. You let your eyes drink up the sight of his defined abdomen, then moved downwards along the dark happy trail that peeked from the towel, loosely hanging from his waist. Hip bones teasing you and all. Just drop the fucking towel Johnny.

Needless to say, you were a mess when you arrived at the office. The cats in heat outside of your window, the phallic shaped baguette your baker generously treated you with this morning; everything seemed to remind you of the heat between your legs that you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore. You tried rubbing your thighs, drowning in the paperwork, even locking your phone in one of your drawers so as not to be tempted to look at Johnny’s thirst trap again. But he had won.

You grab a bunch of documents that seemed important enough, shove them in your favourite binder, and make your way to Johnny’s office upstairs. 

You knew you had to deal with Donghyuck. It was the unavoidable repercussion of messing up your life like that, getting men that were too good looking for this boring ass company tangled up in what seemed to be a simple internship. Taking a deep breath, then two more for good measure, you start to strut confidently in a straight line that led to Johnny’s office door.

“He’s on call, come back later.”

Your head instinctively turns to the source of the sound, to find Donghyuck staring at the display of his laptop that seemed to be much more interesting than you. The matter-of-fact way he formed his sentences was not unlike him, yet something in you begged for a little bit of attention. Blame it on how horny you’ve been all morning, or the fact that now that you’ve seen him naked, the strict tone affects you much more than it should.

Bothered by your thoughts and thinking about having to sit back at your office for the rest of the work day, you let the binder slip from your hands and drop on the wooden floor. You lean down to collect the scattered pieces of paper, your heels making it hard for you to keep your balance easily, and soon enough you sense a movement from behind you.

“No panties huh?”

It was supposed to be a surprise. Payback for the dirty thoughts Johnny planted in your head this morning. You’d walk in all innocently, sit right across his desk and give him a little Basic Instinct Sharon Stone moment. Then leave him high and dry again, while mentally keeping a note to clear out all your plans for the weekend. But see, he couldn’t give you what you wanted after all, and your resolve started to break. Whatever it was you wanted, you wanted it now.

You get up, unfolding your body slowly and refusing to look at Donghyuck, much like he did when you walked inside. The smirk playing on your lips couldn’t be concealed through your voice.

“Like what you see?”

You gasp as he presses up against you, the only contact you have with one another being his hard-on that nudges your ass. Following your body’s orders, you push back against him too, and you can tell the breath he lets out is ragged and full of tension.

He reaches for your binder with an arm around you, flipping through the pages as he sucks his teeth in disapproval.

“These are last week’s reports. Are you really here for these or are you looking for another quickie with Johnny?” A moan escapes you then, and the little thrust that Donghyuck allows himself drives you both crazy. “Thought so. How insatiable are you? I made you cum two nights ago, Johnny helped you out yesterday. If you really are that desperate you could’ve just come to me for help, doll”

His soft palm rests on the front of your thigh, slowly sliding his way under your skirt. You squirm in his hold in anticipation, and you have to bite your tongue to hold in the noises that threaten to leave you. 

“Donghyuck, Johnny is sitting right through that door. He could come out any minute now and see us”

“And?”

“Your boss is sitting right through that door. You could get fired”

“I could die after this”

His thumb ficks your clit swiftly, and Donghyuck takes this opportunity to slip his other one inside your gaping mouth.

“But-“

“Shh. Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby”

You’re melting in his hold at this point, your back still resting against his chest, lips sucking his digit. The scent of his cologne that you’ve grown so familiar with overwhelms you, painting all your surroundings in a red tint of lust.

“Spread your legs for me”. You oblige with his orders immediately, your arousal not allowing you to keep him waiting. “Wider”.

You take a quick look behind your shoulder to check that the door is still, indeed, closed, only to be met face to face with Donghyuck. His breath is hot against your face, eyes locked on his thumb toying with your lower lip and you completely forget what you initially turned around for. The kiss was natural, your lips melding easily with his ones. The need for him washes over you like a heatwave and you lift your skirt to urge him to continue before you go insane. 

He gets the hint and moves his hand lower, middle finger tracing your opening ever so slightly. It makes you shiver and you realise how quiet the room has fallen, the only source of sound coming muffled through the closed door to Johnny’s office. It excites you and it must show through the wetness between your lower lips, and Donghyuck patiently collects it all. He transfers the moisture over the bud of your clit, his finger smoothly massaging the sensitive skin. It feels divine and there’s no way you’d ask him to stop yet you know there’s something else Donghyuck is after, the sweet tightness that he didn’t get to experience that night at his apartment.

It was a bit much to fuck you out there like that, even for his exhibitionistic tendencies, but nothing could stop him from feeling the next best thing. 

His first finger enters you unhurriedly, careful of your reactions. You moan out his name and he moans at how tight you are, soft pussy practically sucking his finger in. He soon enters his ring finger as well, slowly moving them inside you until you feel every stretch and curl. Your wetness starts to drip at this point, coating his fingers with your juices.

“Such a dirty girl, making all this mess at my office”

The leisure pace ruins you, your eyes shut close in search of patience. You feel his other palm move from under your skirt as well, resting flat against your lower abdomen. He wants to feel himself inside you.

“Donghyuck, please. More”

A chuckle is heard from your left ear, and you can vividly imagine how his face must look like now. The cocky smirk, the tongue poking the inside of his cheek. The next pump has you muffling your whimpers with the back of your fist, his fingers curling just right and fucking straight into your g-spot. 

“More? Look at you. Pretty slut.” 

He’s full on finger fucking you now, and swallowing your moans is gradually becoming more and more difficult. The world crumbles from under your feet and you let yourself get carried away in the intense pleasure, the fast pumping making your legs shake.

“You’re gonna cum?”, he whispers again, and you can only respond with a nod, “That’s my fucking girl”

The orgasm’s intense, shaking you as you bite your hand and hold onto Donghyuck for extra support. He continues to move his fingers afterwards, drawing out your euphoria for as long as he can, then finally leaves you empty once your moans have died down. You immediately cover yourself up again once you sober up from your high, suddenly embarrassed by Donghyuck’s intense stare. He’s moving his eyes through all the features of your face, only for them to fall frozen on your lips, and lifts his hand up to rest his two fingers over them. You get his initiative and put them in your mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue.

“Unless you want us both to get fired I think you should go back to your office. I don’t think I can contain myself around you”

You release his digits with a pop, your eyes full of seduction.  

“What would you do to me?”

Donghyuck growls at your question, turning you around so that you’re fully face to face and chest to chest. 

“You’d look so pretty on your knees, mouth full of cock”. He grabs a handful of your ass, bringing you flush against him and proceeds to grind his painfully hard dick between your thighs. Your noses touch and you feel dizzy at the proximity; the words he mutters against your cum coated lips. “I’d peel those clothes off of you, find the nearest mirror. Stretch you out against the glass so that you see how good you take it.”

You shiver as a response, then force yourself to put some distance between you before you do something stupid. He kindly helps you collect your things in silence, those useless documents that were laying scattered on the floor, and in a moment of weakness you let him pin you against the wall right before you go.There was something so addictive about him and your chemistry, and your lips burn at the memory of his kisses. You’re not sure how much longer you can contain that hunger anymore.

The end of a shift and the beginning of another overtime. It felt like deja vu at this point, after all the countless extra hours you’ve put into the internship, seeing people grab their briefcases and their car keys as they empty the space around you. You take a moment to appreciate the view of the setting sun from the small window of your office, inhaling deeply as you wrap the hair that’s been bothering you in a ponytail. Your neck hurts and the tension of your body is translating into a dull pain, so you stretch it a little, bobbing your head from side to side.

You jump a little in your seat when you feel a set of hands on your shoulder blades. They massage the sore spots, treating the muscle knots and helping your blood flow freely. It was obvious Donghyuck didn’t have enough of you earlier, and you pout at having to turn down another visit to his apartment because of your overtime duties. 

You were ready to scold him off, tell him you’re busy and that you promise to make it up for him another time, when you feel his soft lips kissing the most sensitive spot on the slope of your neck. You let out a long sigh, subconsciously exposing your neck more for him, and a high pitched whine rumbles in your chest. It’s released as a moan of Donghyuck’s name.

“Donghyuck?!”

You freeze in the uncomfortable arch, your ears confused by the deepness of the voice belonging to the man behind you. Not even the confusion laced in it can cover up the lack of airiness and clarity you’re used to when it comes to Donghyuck’s tone. It’s Johnny.

“I… We-“

You’re left speechless, clueless as to what to say next. You know you don’t have to explain yourself, it’s not like you and Johnny are exclusive. Yet his shocked face at the sound of his assistant’s name coming so lewdly off your lips has your brain scrambling to find some sort of explanation. Thankfully, he’d interrupt your panic in a second.

“The big boss wants you upstairs. I offered to come get you.”

He doesn’t sound angry or upset, nor disappointed. It’s a fresh air of relief before you realize that this is not what you should worry about right now. What the hell does the CEO of the company want to talk to you about? Are you getting the boot? It must be it, but why? Your numbers have been great, you’re always on time - except that one morning, but technically it was Donghyuck’s fault - and you’ve been praised by your supervisor numerous times during your internship.

Unless- What if there’s cameras in the office? 

You start to panic at the thought of an involuntary sex tape become the cause of your dismissal, so caught up in your thoughts that you’re completely unaware you’ve spent the entire trip up the stairs with Johnny in silence. When you enter the CEO’s office, heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears, you notice that all of the department’s supervisors are present in the impromptu meeting as well. You sit next to Johnny, in an attempt to calm yourself down, and you see the head of your department send you an encouraging smile.

“Shall we start?”

A briefing of your work in the company ensued, numbers and graphs that wouldn’t make sense to anyone other than the people in the room. Thirty minutes have passed and no surveillance tape has been whipped out, turning you more confused than ever. The numbers were good, the words from your supervisor are complimentary, so why would they fire you? 

“That is all for the briefing. After seeing your progress and the contribution you’ve made to the company, we’ve decided to offer you a permanent position, if you’d be interested of course”

Oh my god. You can’t believe this day finally came. Your face was glowing, and you tried to convince yourself to stay calm while you talked about your new position and the raise in salary that came with it. With shaky hands you sign the documents, and your boss congratulates you once again, dismissing you off your overtime. 

You waited for everyone to leave the hallway before jumping in Johnny’s arms. He caught you easily, strong build supporting you and lifting your feet off the ground before landing you safely again.

“Good job intern, I’m so proud of you”

“Hey, I’m not an intern anymore!”, you complain by bumping his chest with your fist and he pats your head lovingly in return.

“Why did you have to be in the room as well? Did you know about my promotion?”

“No, actually, they just told me an hour ago. It was hard to keep myself from telling you everything right away.”

The excitement coursed through you, and a sudden urge to kiss him until your lips were numb overwhelmed you. You were ready to turn your thoughts into reality, when you saw Donghyuck from the corner of your eye, instinctively smiling at your obvious happiness.

“What’s the occasion?”

“I got promoted!”

Donghyuck gasped, a huge smile spreading across his face. Your excitement’s contentious so he tackles you without a second thought, his embrace so tight that you can barely breathe. You can see that he’s trying his best to contain a kiss, his glance moving back and forth between you and Johnny. He still kept a possessive hand around your waist once he let you down however, a gesture that could seem innocent yet you knew better.

Johnny smirks at the sight of you two, confidence dripping off his body and making you shiver. You get dizzy at the thought of Donghyuck not knowing that Johnny knows about you, yet Donghyuck knowing about Johnny but not giving a fuck.

“So how do we celebrate?”, the older man asks, with a playful tone that might as well be your active imagination.

“Wanna go for a drink?”, Donghyuck suggests, boldly keeping his eyes at you only while he does so.

You pout in thought, humming pensively when an idea pops into your head. 

“How about you come over my place for one?”

You should have thought this through more thoroughly, is all you can think about as you’re trapped between Johnny and Hyuck on your couch. Well, not really- there is a sizable distance between you three, yet the atmosphere in the room is so dense it’s nearly palpable. Three glasses, half-full of the alcohol of their choice are sitting on the coffee table in front of you, and you awkwardly stare at the sweat that falls from your glass and forms rings on the wooden surface. 

Your body has loosened up from your drink yet your heart can’t stop racing, not when Donghyuck is looking at you like that. He looks like a man starved for days while you’re the meal presented deliciously in his arm’s reach, and he can’t wait to have you alone and curve his growing appetite. And you ignore Johnny’s cheeky smiles and flirtatious winks as well, carrying on a conversation that doesn’t belong in the inescapable tone of the room but flows easily, until it ends and you’re met with heavy silence and the ticking analog clock on your wall again.

You ask them if they would like some water, getting up before you receive an answer, and you yelp a little when you feel a strong arm halting your trip to the kitchen before it even started. You lose your balance and wobble a little in your spot before unceremoniously landing on Johnny’s lap.

He doesn’t help you up, but loops and arm around your waist instead, holding you in place. In circumstances other than the ones that have already made their mark on your sexual history, staying in this position with his assistant still in the room would be highly inappropriate.

“You’re all we need”, he reassures you with a voice made of silk, then repositions you with a jerk of his knee, your heat grinding right against his half hard member.

“When were you gonna tell me?”

You open and close your mouth sequentially like a fish out of water, choking out a reply after the insistent tick-tock that resonates through the room and gives a tempo to your anxiety.

“I’m sorry?”

“You know what I’m talking about. A little birdy told me I’m not the only one enjoying this perfect little body. Is that right Donghyuck?”

Donghyuck’s eyes bulged out of his skull, almost choking in the sip of the drink he was enjoying when the unexpected question hit him. Sizzling heat floods your face as he stares at you sternly, and you shake your head defensively.

“I didn’t tell him-“

“Well no, not exactly”, Johnny interrupts and places his big hands over your thighs, “I was just kissing her neck, trying to get her to relax, and lo and behold, she starts moaning your name like its a fucking reflex. You’ve really gotten into her head, apparently”

Donghyuck swells up in pride, that much is evident, yet he’s way too distracted to say anything in response, too busy staring at Johnny’s fingers spreading your thighs apart to expose your damp underwear. Johnny’s lips are planted on your neck, teeth nibbling on your earlobe and you wince when you feel the sharp sting of a slap on your inner thigh.

“You aren’t being a good hostess, baby. Open up your legs more, let Hyuck see your pretty pussy. You remember what word to say when you want me to stop, right?” You whimper the designated safe word while opening your thighs further, digging the heels of your feet in the couch’s pillows. “Good girl”

He dips a hand through the band of your underwear, busying his fingers under the fabric. You moan as they slide through the wetness and he smiles a cocky smile when he sees Donghyuck palming himself through his slacks. He removes the skimpy thong with the help of your hips moving to assist him, to then push the fabric inside your mouth with little to no resistance from you.

“Isn’t this pussy divine? I swear when I bottomed out inside of her the first time I thought I lost my damn mind”

He toys with your opening, only dipping half a finger in to challenge Donghyuck to pay attention.

“We haven’t actually…”

“She only let you play with her?”, Johnny teases him, then pushes his point and middle finger all the way inside you, making his assistant’s imagination run wild at what your pussy must feel like sucking him in. “You’re missing out man”

“I’ve made her cum probably twice as many times as you’ve ever have”

You chuckle at his smart remark and Johnny glares at you, softly slapping your pussy to keep you at bay.

“No one addressed you. You’ll get to make all the noise you want in a sec, baby”

You squirm in place, letting out a muffled apology through your gag and Donghyuck looks seriously affected by the sight.

“Isn’t she obedient?”, Johnny asks while grazing your g-spot, and you moan from both the praise and the stimulation.

Hyuck unbuttons his pants at the lewd sound, pulling his dick from the slit of his boxers and you admire his impressive girth. He lets his body decline comfortably on the pillows behind him, spreading his own legs at shoulder-length. The mouth-watering sight of him jerking himself slowly with the aid of his precum clouds your vision; you’re just as needy for him as he is for you.

“She’s a little brat”

“I guess I know how to make her listen”. Johnny lifts your dress over your hips, then helps you off of it through the hem. With a rehearsed flick of his fingers he discards your bra as well, leaving you completely naked for Donghyuck’s eyes to feast on. His hands immediately grope your breasts, playing with the mounds and putting on a show. “I could undress you over and over and over again”

You feel his fingers retract from inside your pussy to form a ‘V’ over your lower lips, making your hole even more visible along with the wetness that’s dripping out of it.

“Will you let Donghyuck use your pussy baby? I feel a little greedy using it all on my own”

You groan in the anticipation and let your head fall back on Johnny’s shoulder, nodding pathetically and mumbling through your thong.

“Oh god, yes, yes, yes”

Donghyuck has heard enough, and with Johnny urging him on he’s standing half naked in front of you in seconds. His boxers are discarded next to his trousers on the floor, tie hanging loosely from the collar. He still has a hand wrapped around his angry sex, red tip and veiny details making you swoon.

“Go on”, Johnny encourages him, “she’s more than wet enough”

Donghyuck rests his left knee on the cushion of the couch, right between your foot and Johnny’s thigh. A little foiled square is getting ripped by his nimble fingers and you bewitchedly watch him wrap up his cock. He slaps it over your entrance a couple times, coming in contact with the other man’s fingers that are still keeping you fully exposed, then finally thrusts himself inside you. A conglomerate of what seems like three different curses leave his lips, eyebrows furrowed in a pleasureful expression.

“Fuck”

“Tight, isn’t she?”

“So fucking tight baby, damn”

Johnny may have a cock so lengthy that most men are envious of, yet Donghyuck’s girth is really something else. It stretches you out more than you've had in months, dull pain getting numb with every release of serotonin from your brain. You almost cry when he removes the entire thing out of you.

“I have to feel that again”

And indeed he does, submerging himself in the tightness of your walls only his fingers had the privilege of experiencing thus far. You feel amazing wrapped up around him, pussy hot and burning in desire as he dips himself further inside you, pushing you up against Johnny’s chest. You hiss in the sting and whimper softly, prompting the man behind you to ungag you finally.

“What is it baby? Hyuckie’s dick is too big for your tight little hole?”

You nod affirmatively while keeping eye contact with the man mentioned, big glossy eyes awakening something dark inside him. He wants to ruin you.

“Maybe you don’t fuck her hard enough”

You can’t see Johnny from the way you’re seated but you know he must have a smile on his face, well aware of the confidence he possesses for his own abilities in the bedroom. His big hands leave your labia and make their way over to your calves, bending you in a way that is almost painful.

“How about you show me how it’s done, then?”

Donghyuck is always up for a challenge, so he wraps a hand loosely around your throat so as to gain leverage. He pulls his hips backwards, gaining momentum, then slaps them forcefully against your own. You moan loudly at the depth, hands scrambling to find something to hold on to as he’s nailing you against the couch. Johnny’s there to catch your sounds with his lips, eating them up eagerly as he slips his tongue inside you and continues to play with your nipples. 

“Is that hard enough for you?”

Continuing his brutal pace restlessly, Donghyuck tightens his grasp around your neck, enough to hamper your blood flow and drool around the other man’s mouth. You’re so out of it at this point, dirty sound after another leaving your lips and you gasp at Johnny’s fingers that are suddenly circling around your clit.

“I’m close, please”, you manage to whimper from between them, Hyuck’s pace only fastening in the sound of your plea. The tip of his cock, thick like the rest of him, grazes against your sensitive spot again and again, not missing a single thrust. He digs a thumb in the softness of your cheek, pulling you away from Johnny and connecting his forehead with yours. By the sounds of his grunts it won’t take long until he comes as well.

“Made just for me”, he whispers against your lips, and you gasp when you feel the heat overflowing in your sex area, vision blurry as you let go and scream in complete pleasure. Donghyuck basks in the confirmation of how good he’s made you feel, hips stuttering as he empties his cum in you and inside the condom. His thigh muscles may be contracting in tiredness yet he doesn’t halt his movements, milking your orgasm for all its worth. You’re basically putty in Johnny’s lap at this point, sex drunk and high from your release.  

“Not bad”, he admits, even though he had some credit to claim with the fast fingerwork he showed earlier. He holds your thighs again, closing them up to help you relax and you wince at the pain in your haunch, the result of staying in a flexibility-demanding position for so long.

You wait until your heartbeat slows down, turning around to face Johnny as Donghyuck ties up and discards the used condom. He sends you a warm smile, petting the messy hair out of your line of sight and you relax in the feeling of safety, batting your eyes up at him cutely.

“What about you?”, you practically meow, moaning softly as you feel his boner twitching from beneath his trousers.

“What about me? Didn’t you have enough?” 

He knows your appetite, knows there’s no way you’d be satisfied by one round only. And how could you, when he sits so deliciously from under you, his big body reeling you in. You know what he wants to hear.

“Please, Johnny”, you plead, playing with the thin tie still neatly keeping his shirt in place. “I need you”

“You need what?”, he growls against your lips, trying to coax as much desperation out of you as possible.

“I need your big cock inside me, please”

“Ass up”

You get up from your seat, complying with his commands and getting on your knees before your tired legs betray you and leave you a mess on the floor.  His hands cup your ass in admiration, giving it a little spank before he slides them over your dorsals. A careful push forces you to arch your back even more, and your cheeks burn at the eager position he has bent you in. You shiver when his cock enters you halfway.

“You’re still not used to me babe?”

“It’s not my fault that you’re so fucking big, Johnny”

“Then maybe I should stay still? Since you can’t take it?”

“No!”, you oppose, tears of frustration threatening to spill out of their ducts, “I can take it, just move!”

You howl as he bottoms out, his long length making you lose your mind. It’s been a while since you’ve had anything more than his fingers and you’ve missed the way he fits inside of you. You hear shuffling from behind you and soon he’s bending over you, wrapping his tie around your neck. With a pull you’re flush against his chest again, and the buttons of his shirt are already leaving little indentations on your skin. You wish it bruises.

“Do you remember what I wanted you to call me the other day?”, he whispers next to the shell of your ear, dark tone sending shivers down your spine.

“Mr. Suh”

“Exactly. Now will you let me fuck you the way I want?”

“Yes sir”

“What a good girl”

Johnny slams into you fully, every pull of his hips resulting in the restriction of your airflow. A game of wanting more of him and sacrificing your oxygen for it begins, and it doesn’t take long for you to turn completely into a submissive mess for him. He’s whispering filth in your ears, hips keeping their inhuman tempo until you’re all out of energy and fall nonvocal. Donghyuck gets hard again at the sight.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Johnny, who is more than willing to share your body for the pleasure he’s after- at least part of it. He waits until the younger man’s dick is fully solid in his grasp, standing tall and red right in front of you and he lets go of the constraint of your neck without notice.

You fall face first on Donghyuck’s thick thighs, his quick reflexes catching you from a harder impact. His member is twitching right next to your face, tip grazing against your left temple and he helps your head up by wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail that his fingers hold together. You wrap your lips around his tip obediently, twirling your tongue around his member until you reach his hairy base. He tastes a bit rubbery from the condom earlier but you choose to ignore it, focusing on hollowing your cheeks around him instead.

Every hard thrust of Johnny’s propels you forward onto Donghyuck’s cock, the bobbing motion natural yet you struggle to take them both inside you. Donghyuck enjoys the vibrations of the moans you make when the other man hits a deep spot in your pussy, Johnny groans when you clench around him as Donghyuck abuses your throat. It’s a give and take of intense pleasure and you know you can’t take much more, the men’s moans growing louder with every thrust. 

“Do you like Hyuck’s cock needy baby? Have you finally had enough?”

He punctuates each word with a slam, one harder than the other, and the rope inside your belly snaps with the arrival of your second orgasm. You try your hardest to stay in place, beg your thighs not to let you collapse as you let Johnny drive you into overstimuation.

“Yes, sir. I love it”

Johnny grunts at the sound of his title, so dirty coming muffled by another man’s dick that it’s enough to send him over the edge. You feel the hot cum filling up the condom inside you, and his spurts take so long that the little tweaks coax another orgasm from you.

Donghyuck drinks up the scene unveiling in front of him, a steady hand forcing your jaw open as he starts to jerk off quickly over your face.

“I want to see your tongue covered in my cum”

You lick your lips seductively in response, opening your mouth up to welcome his ropes of white liquid that leave his slit a second after. They fill your mouth little by little, painting the inside of it and you hold your tongue out to show him his creation, a couple of drops dripping from the corners before you swallow as much as you can. He collects whatever’s left on your jaw, pushing it in and letting you suckle on his thumb dumbly before letting go.

You collapse on the couch, exhausted after giving all that your body could handle after a work day, and you sit in silence as Johnny massages your feet and Donghyuck kisses your neck to calm you down. Your head hurts from the sex and the possibilities that this new combination can bring to your love life, belly tingling in excitement at the same time. You don’t know where this will lead, or when will be the next time you’ll indulge in the company of the both of them stuck on your body. All that you know is that this promotion, at least the celebration of it, tastes really, really sweet. 

thank you for reading ❤ feedback is much appreciated! If you liked Promotion you can check out Work for it to see where it all started! :) 

[luvrhyune]

LOVE THEORY . KIM SEUNGMIN .

TEASER : promotion .

♡. SUMMARY ; seungmin gets a promotion !

♡. WORD COUNT ; 488

— warnings ; texts at bottom of fic, swearing, typo’s (one that i can see but probably many), unedited / not proof read.

— notes ; hello!! if you’re here because this popped up on your feed, this is a teaser to my kim seungmin series, love theory!!

— masterlist.

— love theory m.list.

seungmin stepped into the offices after being called. he was told to finish up whatever he was doing and make his way up there with a drink for all of the managers and himself.

he took a deep breath, he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous — he was sure he had done nothing wrong and it was just chan. he knocked on the door, waiting for a soft, “come in” before pushing open the door.

“hey seungmin,” kaydence greeted him with a small smile, gladly taking her drink from the tray he was carrying with a ‘thank you’.

“where is chan?” he asked to no one in particular, moving across the room to place minho’s drink on his desk. minho pointed into the small room that was known as chan’s personal office. he had only went into there if he wanted to be alone or he need to do some important work for the hotel.

“knock before you go in, he seems very serious today,” minho gave seungmin a knowing look and the brunette nodded his head in understanding.

seungmin knocked on chans door causing the older brunette to look up through the glass window. he smiled, waving for the younger male to come in. “take a seat, seungmin.”

“so i assume you’re wondering why i called you hear, yes?” seungmin nodded his head silently, not trusting himself to speak yet. he still couldn’t understand why he was so nervous — it was just chan. “well it’s nothing bad, and you’re not in trouble.” seungmin let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, relief washing over him.

“ah, i see,” seungmin smiled and chan chuckled at his youngers formality.

“you don’t need to be so serious, seungie! it’s actually good news i have for you.” the younger brunette finally visibly relaxed after the use of his nickname. “we are promoting you!”

seungmin tilted his head in confusion, a soft frown pulled on his features, “promoting me to what?”

“we’d like you to be our new supervisor,” chan smiled, his dimples on full display. he was proud of seungmin, all of the younger’s hard work was paying off. “obviously if you don’t want the promotion, you don’t have to accept.”

“no i’d love it, chan thank you so much?” though seungmin was a little baffled on how he managed to get a promotion, he gladly accepted — knowing his pay would be better, he’d have a better job position and the other members would have to listen to him, no matter what.

“though, before we fully give you the promotion, you’ll have to go through some training,” chan spoke, the younger nodding in understanding, “minho and kaydence are more than happy to help you out with that.”

with a little more discussion about pay, training and a few extra details, seungmin left the office satisfied. the smile didn’t go unnoticed by a few of the team members.

TEASER : promotion .

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TAGLIST :

send an ask to join !!

— @cheolsaurus , @bigsobforskz , @yeonjunszn , @choiwonder

[just-a-space-rabbit]

The old Bookstore

Based on my own Writing prompt: Here

Not sure if I’m supposed to tag you @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat​, though you did sort of request it… IDK I’m still new to a lot of this…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hero kept pacing nervously around in their small apartment, they simply could not believe themselves. “This is bad, this is so bad!” they muttered repeatedly, while biting their nail. “How could I have been so blind!” They slumped down in the worn-out sofa, exhausted and tired from the second double shift this week.

For a long time now the hero-gig had not paid Hero anywhere near enough to cover their living expenses, therefore they had been needing to take on a second job. Luckily, when their favorite bookstore gave an offer for a part-time job at the decent salary two months ago, they jumped on it immediately.

Everything finally seems to go the right way, pay was great, the hours were perfect… then Hero just had to spot Supervillain enter into a hidden door in the backroom. In one singular moment all the small inconsistencies seem to fall in place. Old books that had been on the shelf for years, and nearly no customers entering, yet no problem paying premium for having Hero just sit there and read.

Hero felt disappointed in themselves for not realizing it sooner, but even more disappointed that their favorite bookstore was really nothing more than a front to supervillain’s lair. Luckily no one seem to have noticed that Hero saw Supervillain, at least they hoped no one noticed… “What the hell am I going to do now?”

The most natural thing Hero thought to themselves, would be to report them to the agency, and let the league take them down. But that would mean losing their main sources of income.

They felt some shame even thinking about money right now, but why shouldn’t they, living paycheck to paycheck is not fun, and leave little room for being all altruistic and stuff…

Besides, they had no actual proof that it was their base, heck! It might just have been a meeting place or a storage. And as a smaller hero convincing the board of supervisors with no proof, it is going to be near impossible.

The other option would mean going undercover, and gather proof, maybe even break into the base at night. This was riskier, but at least Hero would keep getting paid and maybe even get a good bonus from the agency.

Despite having seen Supervillain they still had no idea who they really are, but if Hero can find out their identity it could result in Supervillain being taken down once and for all. But Hero has little to no espionage skills, so that might be too dangerous.

Maybe… their thoughts continued, maybe, they could just lie low for a while… and just hope they get some evidence naturally? No one else are really looking into Supervillain at the moment, and there is no urgency or known threats…

Their thought was suddenly cut off as they got a message on their phone. It was Boss the “owner” of the bookstore.

“Hey Hero, Sorry to bother you so late, I know you're busy with two jobs and all… but Co-worker just bailed on us again! Can you cover their shift tomorrow, please! 🥺”

Hero just kept staring at the screen for a while before texting back “Sure, I’ll cover for them. But they better pay for my lunch next week, or else… 🙃” Yeah, they are just going to lie low, at least for a few days.

They got up to take a shower, the only thing keeping them calm is the knowledge that their cover is not yet blown. Or was it…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I don’t know about the emojis, I mean it is texts messages... but it just makes me feel like:

[citrineghost]

Avoiding Scams on Freelancing Sites

Hi there! I almost just got scammed today, and I’m going to take the LITTANY of red flags from this interaction and use it to teach you all about how to avoid scams.

I am not making very much money right now. I just lost one of the accounts I was writing for, so I am not not even making enough to pay my rent. So I am desperately looking for work. And, like many people desperately looking for work, my panicking subconscious is willing to see a red flag and brush it under the rug because

“I’m probably being paranoid.”

So, to all of my lovely artists, writers, editors, and other types of freelancers who are desperately looking for work, I would like to create a comprehensive list of things that you should NOT FUCKING IGNORE while looking for a job. Actually, the list will be formatted as things you should expect from your employer/interviewer and if these things are missing, get the fuck out of there.

1. Reputable Platforms

The first thing you should be expecting is to use reputable platforms. If you’re being asked for a virtual interview, you should expect your interviewer to invite you via Skype, Discord, (Maybe slack if they’re middle-aged), perhaps Whatsapp, or whatever website you’re using to find your job.

DO NOT go for interviews on Telegram. This app has been reported as very commonly being associated with scams. This is where my recent experience took place.

2. Willingness to Verify Legitimacy

The first thing you should do when being in contact with an interviewer or HR is ask them to verify their identity. 

This may not be necessary if doing a video call with someone pictured on an official company website, receiving emails or texts from addresses/numbers that are listed on an official company website, or if the job you’re being interviewed for was applied to directly on the company website. In these cases, you are not likely to be scammed, as you’re working with verifiably information.

If you meet someone on Indeed, Fiverr, Upwork, or any other freelancing/job site, keep your contact within the website’s chat system, email system, or whatever. This is how you remain protected under the hiring site’s TOS/Legal whatever. If you get scammed because you took your hiring process elsewhere, they will not help you.

That being said, if you DO take your interview off the site, it should be somewhere reputable and you should ask for your interviewer to verify their identity before doing literally anything else. The best way to get them to verify their identity is to ask them to email or text you from an address or phone number listed clearly on the official company website, by asking them to show you their state ID and checking it for photoshop influence, or by asking to do a video call for the interview and seeing for yourself that you’re being interviewed by someone who is pictured on the official company website as an employee.

3. Clear and Professional Procedures

Any professional working as an interviewer or human resources personnel will have a skillset related to communication and organization. When being interviewed you should expect a number of questions about your skills and how you’re valuable to the company, etc. However, this is easy to fake, as a scammer. What you need to look out for is that they show a clear amount of structure.

If you’re asked for an interview, no real company will demand you be quick about responding. If they’re interested in an interview, a legitimate company is not likely to ask you to do the interview immediately. They will ask you to schedule an interview time with them. They may ask if you have availabilities that day, but they will not just start interviewing you immediately.

After the interview, any professional company will tell you that they will get back to you when they’ve made a decision about your interview. No professional company will tell you to wait for an indefinite amount of time while they talk to HR peers. If a company Does want you to wait, because they intend to make a quick decision, they will give you an expected wait time, as that is the courteous and professional thing to do. They will not expect you to be on-call for this period of time. A time projection is simply to give you an idea of what to expect. For example, “I’ll be in touch within the next 1-3 hours about the results of your interview. Thank you for your time.”

Furthermore, if you are accepted for a job, any professional company will make a clear outline of exactly how they plan to introduce you into company life. They will respect your time and ask you to schedule things with them. For example, “Is there a period of 2-3 hours within the next few days where you would be available for an orientation?” 

No professional company will demand you do anything at any particular time. That is not how legitimate professionals treat new employees. You will be asked to schedule things with them. Even when you’re assigned work hours, if the exact hours you’re applying for are not listed in the job description you applied for, they will ask you to fill out some kind of time sheet to outline your availabilities, then schedule you for times within that outline.

4. Doesn’t Show Signs of Money Scamming

There are two major red flags when it comes to money scams. Your interviewer should never ask you what bank you use and your interviewer should never ever tell you they’re going to send you a check, unless they send your paycheck as a check.

One of the more common scams at the moment is run by people pretending to be members of legitimate companies, hiring freelancers for things like proofreading and editing. These remote positions may require home office hardware, right? The interviewer will tell you you’re missing some hardware and software that are required for the job. Then they’ll tell you that they will send a check that you can cash and use to buy the required materials.

This is even sketchier if they email you front and back images of the check and tell you to print it and then deposit it through mobile banking. The way this works is that, if you cash the check successfully, you will then buy the list of software, which is usually completely unrelated to the job you’re being hired for, then they will cancel the check, which hasn’t cleared completely. That leaves you with ~$2k dollars less in your bank and their money right back where it started in theirs. Presumably, the scammers are the ones selling the software. So, that $2k dollars you just spent is also going into their bank account.

Professional companies will never offer to send you checks to buy products. If they have official hardware or software that they want you to use, they will buy it themselves and then send it to you. There is never a reason why a new hire should buy hardware or software out of their own bank, whether they have been given money for it or not.

Furthermore, a legitimate company will never ever pay you before you have signed and sent your contract to them. One of the obvious giveaways of the scam I was almost caught in was that I was sent the contract last night and I asked if I could send it in today, since it was getting late. The interviewer agreed. I signed it in the morning and then asked him if I should send it in a reply to the email I got the original contract from or if there’s another email I need to send it to. He completely ignored my question, asked me how I was doing, and then went into the check-related information so I could buy software.

The issue was bothering me ALL DAY. I knew there was something extremely weird about that, so I asked again a few hours later. His response? “You have nothing to worry about.” ?????? I was aghast. I wasn’t worried at all! I just wanted an answer! If he had simply told me to respond to the email I’d gotten the contract from, I might have fallen for his scam! What a terrible scammer smdh

A Non-Exhaustive List of Other Red Flags

Your interviewer shows a poor grasp on the language

If your interviewer is making frequent grammatical errors that are glaringly obvious to any native speaker, that is a huge red flag. HR reps and interviewers are hired because of their communication skills. It is highly unlikely that someone who makes non-native-like errors is legitimate unless they are actually openly non-native, in which case, it’s not so alarming.

Your interviewer is showing impatience or demanding you at certain times

If your interviewer is telling you to “report back by 8am tomorrow” without any kind of prior agreement that this is an acceptable time for you to meet, that is extremely unprofessional and shows a lack of patience. Scammers want to get to the meat of their scam quickly and will use an air of professional superiority and authority to scare you into moving faster than necessary.

Your interviewer shows a lack of opening and closing statements

Along the lines of the clear processes that I mentioned above anybody who is initiating you in the job you’re taking should show clear opening and closing statements. What I mean by this is: professionals in human resources or management positions will not keep you as a social hostage. If you’ve been discussing how you’ll begin training or somesuch, they will not just leave you hanging. You should have a dedicated time slot where you will have your discussion and, at the end of it, your supervisor should make a closing statement. For example, “It looks like our time is running out for today. What would be a good time to pick this up tomorrow?”

If you feel like you are “on-call” and unable to leave the room because the interviewer or supervisor keeps messaging, has not outlined a time slot for you to talk in, won’t seem to let you go, or shows no indication of stopping, that is a really bad sign. Either the company is legitimate and TERRIBLE at professionalism (a great sign you should run anyway), or this is a scammer intent on getting you to follow their instructions as soon as they can.

Your interviewer ignores time zones or gets them wrong

When I was contacted about doing an interview yesterday, it was 4:30pm. I did the interview and was told I got the job. Immediately after, without asking if I was free, he began listing off instructions and things I was to expect. It wasn’t until 7:30pm that he sent me the contract and asked me to review it, sign it, and send it back that I finally asked if I could do that tomorrow. The interviewer was supposedly on the west coast and knew that I was on the east coast. He agreed by saying “Alright” and then told me to report to him “by 8am your time.”

There are 3 things about this that are weird. The first is that he demanded I show up at 8am to continue where we left off. Any professional would have asked when I’m available the next day to continue. the second is that he said “your time” instead of saying EST, as most professionals in the US would be apt to do. And, lastly, I showed up at 7:50am, ready to continue, because I’m that desperate that I’m willing to be pushed around, and he showed up at 9am on the dot. He had gotten the time wrong. Nobody who works professionally on the west coast is incapable of adding 3 hours to their time. It was a rookie mistake, or a mistake made by someone in a completely different time zone than they say they are.

When asked to verify their identity, your interviewer attempts to reassure you or refuses

When I finally was fed up and knew this must be a scam, I politely asked my interviewer to verify his identity by either showing me his US ID or by contacting me from his email or phone number listed on the official company website. He sent me a photoshopped nametag with a completely different person’s name and photo on it and said it was the company ID of the HR director. 

I have never seen a facade fall so pathetically. Why would literally any even remotely legitimate person do such a thing? It was sad, really. He deleted the message in less than a minute - no doubt to keep me from looking at it long enough to see how badly it was photoshopped - and then aggressively reassured me that the company meant me no harm and would pay for everything, etc. Any real professional would have simply sent me an email from the legitimate address, stating that they’re legitimate, and then continued on with the initiation process.

Learn from My Mistakes

I hope some of this was helpful for all of you lovely freelancers trying to find work. I thought I would know a scam when I saw one, and I did have a Bad Feeling about this whole thing, because it did feel too good to be true, but I was desperate enough that my judgement was heavily clouded, and that could happen to anyone.

Don’t ignore red flags - especially these ones. Stick up for yourself. Avoid confirmation bias. I looked things up repeatedly to confirm that the company was legitimate and that it’s normal to do things like mobile deposit a printed check and so on. Every time, I found an explanation that suited me. I even tried to cash the check. The only reason it didn’t work was because there was an error with the name on the check because I recently legally changed my name and PayPal was having some kind of issue updating in some areas of its website. It was after that that I realized this was all crashing down and I needed to reassess it all. Don’t let yourself get that deep into it.

[daloy-politsey]

On my first date with Yehoram, I offered him a sip of my prosecco at the hip Tel Aviv bar I had brought him to. He tensed, paused and quietly replied, “I’m not sure if I can. I don’t know if it’s kosher.” I immediately recognized his confession for what it was: a coming-out. I told him that it’s fine, that we can ask the waitress if the wine has a certification, that I grew up in an observant family too. He finally breathed.

I already knew that Yehoram is female-to-male transgender. In fact, it was the only thing written on his dating profile. Over the course of our year-long relationship, and then our seamless transition into friendship late last year, he explained to me that the queer community will often accept that he is trans but not that he is religious. But the same is not always necessarily true of the religious community – and particularly of his family.

There are many preconceptions about his family. The matriarch Mazal, 74, and patriarch Yehiel, 78, were both born in Sana’a, Yemen, and immigrated to the newly-declared State of Israel in early childhood. (Haaretz is honoring their request not to publish the family name.) They are visibly Haredi: Mazal wears long skirts and tucks her hair into modest black caps; Yehiel trims his salt-and-pepper beard, and wears a uniform of crisp dress shirts, black pants and a black velvet kippa.

They speak with heavy Yemenite accents – which have been at least partially adopted by their seven children – and their speech is seasoned with religious aphorisms and allusions. People are surprised to learn that Yehoram, 32, is accepted and supported by his parents, to a degree that is rare even in the secular homes of Tel Aviv.

At their kitchen table in a town near Rehovot, central Israel, Mazal has set out water, juice and a homemade cake. Yehiel has set down a voice recorder of his own, to make sure he isn’t misrepresented. They have a story to tell about being the parents of a trans son, and they have decided that I am allowed to tell it.

Before we begin the interview, both are apprehensive. After much deliberation, they decide that I can publish their names but not their images. Yehiel is a respected figure in religious circles: he serves as his synagogue’s main cantor on the High Holy Days, is a mezuzah scribe and kashrut supervisor for the Chief Rabbinate. He spends his free time poring over religious texts, with Yehoram often alongside him. His son no longer attends the local synagogue in which his father plays so large a role; the congregation knew him before his transition, and it could hurt his family’s reputation.

If someone goes to the rabbi with this article in hand and tells Yehiel that he’s out of the fold, “at our age, there’s no fight left. There’s nothing you can do,” he says. “It would destroy me.” When he thinks I cannot hear him, he says that he suspects that one of his contracts as a kashrut supervisor was not renewed for this exact reason – because of his unconventional family.

But if getting his story out shows religious parents that they can embrace their own LGBTQ children, he wants it published. “I want to help,” he says.

Mazal chimes in. “Both of us do. You hear these stories about parents throwing their children out ... I don’t understand it. I don’t understand how you throw out your child.”

She recounts going to the shivah of a friend of Yehoram’s – the transgender queer activist DanVeg, who took her own life in 2016.  “I saw them all in the living room, with their heads on each other’s shoulders. I started to cry. I wanted to hug them all, to go one by one. And they came to me; they saw the look in my eye. There was a man who had become a woman, who came to hug me. And a young girl, and more. I couldn’t take it,” she says, wiping away tears that are coming faster and faster. “More and more of them told us that they’re alone, abandoned by their parents. How can you throw out your child? The child of a human being!”

I get up to hug her, and she cries into my back: “Why? Why would you throw your child out of your house? Why?”

They say they never suspected that Yehoram was different before he came out to them, if not unconventionally, as queer at the age of 18, some 14 years ago.

He did not employ the usual lexicon: “I told them, this is how I am – I’m wearing pants from now on and I’m not interested in men,” he recounts. In Yehoram’s absence, Yehiel recalls it as well. Yehoram sat his parents down in the living room and said his piece, and then asked his parents for a response.

“We got up immediately, as if it were coordinated,” Yehiel says. “We hugged [him] from both directions … and we told [him], ‘You have nothing to be afraid of, no need to worry. You’re our daughter, it doesn’t matter what you do.’” Yehoram then opened his backpack to show a couple days’ clothes inside. “If you didn’t accept me, I would have killed myself,” he told his parents.

From there, they worked to make sure that their son wouldn’t, for one moment, forget that he is loved and cared for. They also made sure that he could live a normal life. “It was important that he be self-sufficient, have a respectable career, be able to build a life without us,” Yehiel explains. “Every day, I’m afraid that he won’t be here. I think about how he can build his life so he’s not dependent on anyone else.”

Mazal and Yehiel tend to refer to Yehoram with female pronouns when he isn’t in the room, and occasionally slip into them when he is. To her, Mazal says, he will always be their daughter. “It’s hard for me,” Yehiel concurs. “[He] should be patient.”

Mazal calls him by his chosen name – an anagram of his birth name – to make him happy. “And to connect with [him] – what can you do? We love [him] either way. [He’s] our daughter.”

There have been difficulties in accepting him along the way, she concedes. But like many parents of LGBTQ children, they are mainly rooted in concerns that he will be able to live a safe, fulfilling life.

No one should mistake their acceptance for liberalism – they repeatedly note that the Pride Parades, with their scanty clothes and glitter, are unsightly. “The left brings it in,” Mazal says. “Non-Jews from abroad, with all their tattoos and whatnot.” However, their embrace of their transgender son and the many queer people who have passed through their doors does not come in spite of their firm religious beliefs, but is the direct result of them.

Yehiel, a lifelong religious scholar, has poured over sources biblical, talmudic, rabbinic and kabbalistic. The kabbalistic concept of the soul provides a simple explanation for the transgender phenomenon, he believes.

“We have the knowledge that Jewish souls can be reincarnated into anything – into non-Jewish families, into animals, even into food,” Yehiel explains. “We were taught that the soul of a man can be reincarnated into a woman, in order to remedy something he had done in a past life.”

When Mazal was pregnant with Yehoram, she had already given birth to five daughters and was hoping for a son. The couple went to a respected rabbi, who told them to buy a bottle of wine for the circumcision ceremony and to come see him 40 days into the pregnancy. Yehiel says that when the time came, it was hard to get hold of the rabbi to schedule an appointment, and they were only able to see him eight months in. The rabbi gave them the blessing regardless.

“The body was already formed female,” Yehiel says, but the prayers had worked: “The soul was male.”

And there is scripture to back up the existence of LGBTQ people within Judaism. “You’re not different, you’re not strange,” Yehiel says. “This [phenomenon] has always existed. It’s in the Torah, and it’s in the mystical sources.” Mazal adds: “It’s a shame that we don’t lay this out these days, to have everything written up and organized to say that it’s all there in scripture.”

At 26, Yehoram told his parents he was transitioning. He underwent top surgery – a double mastectomy – without informing them. “On the one hand, it hurt us,” Yehiel admits. “For us, it meant that’s it – it’s sealed. If he’d told us in advance, we would have told him to wait. Maybe the situation would change.”

But what’s done is done, Mazal says. “What hurt me is that [he] underwent the surgery and I wasn’t there. That ate at me.”

Both loudly agree that the important thing is that he is happy and healthy. “We hope just for success – and thank God there are many successes, so everything is alright,” she says. “I’m just waiting for children,” she laughs.

Yehoram, who has taken a seat next to her, smirks. Mazal jokes about him coming home pregnant one day. He’s slightly irked, but jokes along. A couple of years ago, he froze his eggs through Ichilov Hospital’s fertility clinic for transgender men, and hopes to one day become a father, no matter how he has to do it. His parents strongly supported the move. They have 31 grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.

Yehoram asks a question of his own: Whether his parents want to talk about the time they took him to an esteemed rabbi in Tel Aviv, after he came out at 18.

“After he told us everything, we consulted with a rabbi,” Yehiel relays. “I remember that he got angry and yelled at him. I didn’t like that. He hurt him, and I couldn’t stay any longer, so we left.”

“The rabbi told me that I had lapsed, deteriorated in my spirituality,” Yehoram explains. It’s clear that he remembers it vividly. “That I had fallen.”

After that, the rabbi told him to leave the room, and for his parents to stay. “I heard shouting, and then you left the room,” he says to his parents. “You didn’t say anything, I didn’t say anything. We were quiet all the way home.”

No one discussed the incident for days after, and they barely spoke at all. After three days, Yehoram says, he asked his mother what had happened after the rabbi told him to leave the room.

“I didn’t know what happened, I assumed the worst. You told me that [Dad] got very angry and told [the rabbi], ‘How dare you hurt and belittle a Jewish soul?’ You said you had to give him however much money, and that you just threw a small bill onto the table and left the room,” Yehoram tells his mother. “It really surprised me. I thought you were on his side, and then I suddenly heard that you were on mine.”

When he is with us in the room, Yehoram sometimes seems agitated by his parents’ insistence that their acceptance has always been complete. He tries to direct them toward other instances, other rabbis they don’t or won’t recall. It is often difficult for parents to acknowledge the pain or discomfort that their actions caused their children, even if they were accidental. Mazal brings out a picture from Yehoram’s bat mitzvah, of them embracing the young girl he was. They look almost exactly the same, 20 years later, beaming. Young Yehoram, in a long-sleeved, high-necked dress, is smiling, but the smile does not reach his eyes.

Elisha Alexander, co-CEO and founder of the transgender advocacy and information organization Ma’avarim, says that even though Yehiel and Mazal’s acceptance of their son may seem unique, he would like to think it’s more common than we assume.

“There are religious and even ultra-Orthodox people who accept their trans family members, but it’s usually in secret. The main problem in these communities is the leadership,” he says.

But if more of them realized that embracing their children was a matter of pikuach nefesh – the Jewish concept that saving a life supersedes most religious commandments and norms – they would be more inclined to find a halakhic solution to integrating transgender people into these communities.

There is also a misconception that acceptance is a binary choice: That any parent who does not kick their transgender child out of the house or disown them has, by default, accepted them. “This could not be further from the truth,” Alexander says. “Accepting your child means accepting every aspect inherent to them, including their gender identity, pronouns and so on.”

When parents refuse to do so, their child may seek acceptance elsewhere. He adds that studies show that acceptance within the family drastically reduces the suicide rate among transgender people.

Knowing this, Yehiel says that any parent in his position must continue loving and supporting their child. “This child can fall,” he says. He does not mention it, but he is aware of the stories and statistics: trans youth who find themselves on the street face high rates of abuse and exploitation. Thirty to 50 percent of transgender teens report suicidal thoughts and behaviors – a rate three times higher than for teens overall. But that figure falls to 4 percent when families accept and embrace them, says Sarit Ben Shimol, manager of the Lioness Alliance for families and transgender children and teenagers.

Yehiel adds that it is the duty of parents to give children the support they need to thrive. “As a parent, it is your responsibility to tell your child: You are my child and you are my life. My life depends on you. Watch over me so that I can watch over you,” he says.

As we get up from our seats, Yehiel looks at me for a moment and asks, “If it’s not too personal – since we already opened up the topic – what is your relationship like with your parents?”

I tell them that I talk to my parents, and especially my mother, almost every day. That it was difficult for them to come to terms with my sexual orientation as well, and that sometimes I have an inkling that it still is, even if they won’t say it outright. But I try to be patient.

“Good,” Mazal says. “It’s important to be patient – they’re learning too.” She embraces me again, and Yehiel rests a hand on my shoulder. They invite me to come again, whenever I like. “After all, you’re like our daughter, too.”

[lavender-femme]

Hate that when I’m angry I feel like crying because right now I just wanna sob about this whole thing

One of my favorite coworkers is also a shift supervisor and used a personal fucking communication against me to get my hours deleted and cause so much fucking stress about work on my day off

And then proceeded to tell me that because his intentions were good that he won’t be told otherwise about the situation.

I’m so fucking angry and hurt and I can’t fucking believe him honestly.

He claimed that “communication is communication” regardless of the fact that I told him in a SNAPCHAT that I woke up still sick. He said it’s still communication and equated it with work communications. Because a personal Snapchat is the same as putting it in the work group me.

I never once said I was calling out I never once said I needed coverage I never once said anything about it and now I’m spending the second half of my day off crying about this instead of actually resting and trying to feel better because they think they did the right thing by violating boundaries and assuming that I wouldn’t want to work because, to quote my former favorite shift, “I genuinely care.”

Fuck! If you genuinely care then you should have talked to me about it!!!! How can you not fucking see that!!!!! How can you possibly think it’s okay to go behind my back and have my shifts deleted and covered by other people and then when I tell you it’s not okay and that I’m upset about it, still defend yourself because you think you’re right?!?!? Listen I’m the queen of being right about shit okay I always need to be right and I know it’s not a good thing but my fucking god you really think you’re right ??? I would fucking never do that shit and then listen to someone tell me how this was inappropriate and not okay and then still say that I’m right for doing it what the fuck???

I’m so fucking angry and hurt and I don’t even know what to do with myself because I WAS going to try and rest today but now I’ve just got stress running through me.

I quit my last job without notice because of something similar to this. Because I was harassed repeatedly via text by the assistant manager about my shift the next day. One that I never gave any indication that I wasn’t coming in for… and I don’t like being reminded of that… and this one hurts more because it’s from someone I actually like and trust. But god not anymore.

I don’t fucking care how much kinship I find with anyone, if they have even the slightest amount of power in a workplace then there’s no reason to trust them with anything real. It always comes back to fucking bite you anyway.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 14 - Sinking Deeper [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤ 

Ps: Special thanks to Bea for helping me!

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking.

Word Count: 4180

Summary: Not every night is for sleeping.

All things considered, you were sure that you were supposed to be more stressed out than you were right now. The FBI still had nothing on the copycat killer that had sent you flowers, or any of the others that were running wild all over the country. BAU was working nonstop because there was more and more pressure coming from the supervisors and higher ups, and Spencer had told you something about the profile evolving but hadn’t gotten into details.

Not that you would ever ask him to, what you heard was more than enough.

Despite all that, whenever you were with him, you managed to feel almost…peaceful. It was so unfamiliar to you that it had taken you a moment to acknowledge what it was.

Happiness. Pure happiness, enough to get rid of the mind-numbing panic and worries about the future.

Or, as your sister had so eloquently put it, you were so, so screwed.

You took a sip of your mimosa, texting Spencer under the table, barely aware of the conversation taking place but you had to look up when you heard your name being called.

“Would you want to, Y/N?” your mother asked and you frowned.

“Hm?” you asked, your eyes stopping on Lily playing with her dolls by the corner of the huge living room before you looked at Mina and Kenzie, “Sorry, what were we talking about?”

“There’s this opera—“

“Nope,” you shook your head fervently, “No way. It’s Mina’s turn.”

Mina let out a whine, “I hate you so much right now.”

“She has a point,” your mother pointed at Mina, “Your sister was the one who came to the charity ball, you can come to this one.”

Mina heaved a sigh while Kenzie reached out to hold her hand.

“Babe come on, it could be fun.”

“Exactly!” your mother said, “Thank you, Kenzie. Besides, Nolan is coming as well, so we will be two couples there. Y/N, of course if you want you can bring Spencer—“

“I’m not exaggerating when I say I’d rather spend an hour in my serial killer father’s cell with Spencer.”

Your mother rolled her eyes and Mina tilted her head.

“Nolan Yates is coming too?” she asked, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I’m spending a whole night with the boss of my boss?”

“You two should get to know each other!” Your mother said, “Besides, there’s no harm in telling your bosses that you should become a partner already—“

“Mom,” Mina cut her off, “We talked about this. I will earn that position by myself, not because of anyone’s influence. Including yours.”

Your mother sipped her drink, “It’s as if you like struggling, Mina.”

Kenzie looked between them and smiled brightly, trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m actually pretty curious about him,” she said, “Since you’re a couple now, I just need to see what kind of a person he is.”

“There’s nothing to see, babe.” Mina murmured, “The guy looks like he spends millions alone on his beard care and wears bowties to bed.”

“Yeah but bowties are cool,” you grinned and a silence fell upon the table.

“I will get back to you sleeping with my boss’ boss in a minute mom but—“ Mina cleared her throat and turned to you, “I’m sorry, was that a Doctor Who reference?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I started watching it because Spencer likes it so much. It’s actually pretty fun, he said we could go to Sonic-Con next year if I want.”

“Comic-Con.” Kenzie corrected you helpfully and Mina blinked a couple of times.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I don’t get it,” Kenzie said, “I told you to watch it with me and you said, and I quote It has like one billion episodes Kenz, I don’t have time for that.”

Mina stole a look at Lily to make sure she couldn’t hear you before she turned to Kenzie, “Yeah, the difference is that you weren’t dicking her down.”

“Nobody is dicking me down!” you whispered, and your mother gasped, putting her mimosa glass down.

“Girls, not at the breakfast table!” she insisted, “Not that this kind of language is acceptable anywhere…”

“Yeah Mina, leave her alone,” Kenzie said, “I think it’s sweet.”

“What’s next? You will want to get a doctorate as well because he likes them so much?”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” your mother mused out loud, “Y/N, I know the lovely dean of—“

“No!” you pointed at them, “No to both of you. And thank you Kenzie.”

Before your mother could say anything, Lily ran to you to climb into your lap.

“Hi there bug.”

“Can we play after brunch?” she looked up at you, making you smile at her before you pinched her chubby cheek, making her giggle.

“Of course,” you said, “Dibs on green unicorn.”

“I like pink better,” she nicked a piece of cheese from your plate, “Are you talking about your prince?”

Mina smiled into her glass, “Something like that sweetheart.”

“Lily, why don’t you ask auntie what you asked me the other day?” Kenzie told her and Lily nodded fervently.

“Can I wear pink on your wedding?”

“Whoa-“ you cleared your throat, “Lily, baby, there’s no wedding.”

Kenzie and your mother grinned at each other and turned to you and Lily but she looked as if she was confused.

“But if he’s your prince…” she trailed off and Kenzie cleared her throat.

“I would like to come up with a tamer version of that question,” she said, “When do we get to meet him?”

“Mom and Mina already have,” you said but your mother shook her head.

“That doesn’t count.”

“Because you treated him like you were going to hire him?”

“Oh you did the same to him as well?” Kenzie asked your mother, “I thought Mina would have a heart attack when you did that to me.”

“I honestly thought you would break up with me after that.”

You fixed the huge bow on top of Lily’s hair while she sat still in your lap, listening to the conversation.

“How about dinner?” your mother said, “It’d help us to get to know him better.”

“Nope,” you shook your head, “It’s too early.”

“Oh come on Y/N!”

“I will introduce him to you guys when I’m sure you can behave.”

“He has spent hours with dad, you do realize that?” Mina asked with a small laugh, “You think he behaves? The guy is a—“

“Mina.” Kenzie nodded at Lily and Mina stopped herself immediately but Lily had already heard it.

“I thought your dad was a bad man, mommy.”

“He is, baby,” she nodded, “That’s why he’s far away, remember?”

“Then why is auntie Y/N’s prince talking to him?”

“Because he catches bad people, bug.”

Lily gasped and looked up at you, her eyes shining with excitement, “Like a superhero?!”

“Mm hm, like a superhero,” you grinned at her and she fidgeted in your lap.

“When will I meet him?”

“Yeah Y/N, when will we meet him?” Kenzie batted her lashes and you pointed at her.

“That’s evil, you know that right?” you asked, ignoring Mina’s laughter, “Low blow.”

                                                 ***

Towards the evening, right before it was time to meet Spencer he had texted you, saying that they would be doing overtime at work. You were bummed, but you still texted back to tell him it was alright, that you would be going home and he could drop by whenever he was done.

After having dinner, you went to the couch with a bottle of wine and turned your laptop on to take a look at the files your assistant had sent you. Campbell wedding was almost done, Vincent had sent you a couple of new ideas to add into the theme, and you had to email back two pastry shops to confirm the wedding cake orders.

You were so lost in work that you had barely realized downing the half of the bottle and it was only when your phone started buzzing on the coffee table that you looked away from the screen of the laptop.

“Hi Lincoln,” you answered the phone, still typing your replies to your assistant and he took a deep breath.

“Hey,” he said, “Are you watching it?”

“Watching what?”

“TV. They’re talking about the copycat killers.”

“What?” you grabbed the remote to turn on the TV and of course, the first TV channel you found was already covering the story.

“The FBI has confirmed that the body that was found dead earlier today belonged to one of the copycat killers that has been—“

“What the fuck?” you murmured, keeping your eyes on the screen and he cleared his throat.

“Yeah,” he said, “I know it’s creepy but I mean…I don’t know, isn’t that a good thing?”

“Someone killed one of the copycat killers?” you asked, “That makes no sense at all.”

“Do you think it’s the same one?” he asked, “From the charity ball?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, “Jesus Christ.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, “I didn’t know if I should call, but…”

“No no, I’m glad you did.” You muted the TV, then filled your glass again, “What’re you doing?”

“Just leaving work,” he said and you raised your brows.

“Linc, it’s eleven p.m.”

“I had to attend a meeting overseas.”

“Workaholic.”

“I prefer the term hard working,” he chuckled, “How about you? You weren’t sleeping, right?”

“Nah, I was waiting for my boyfriend,” you said, making him pause for a moment, “And checking client files. And drinking.”

“You’re lucky you can deal with your job while drinking, these sharks would pounce on me if they ever saw me like that.”

You took a look at the TV and typed in the copycat killer’s name into the search bar, sipping your wine.

“You’re being safe, right?” he asked you, “I haven’t heard from you for like a week or so, you’re alright?”

You pressed your lips together, trying to decide whether to tell him about the flowers or not, but in the end you decided not to.

“Family drama,” you said, “I’ve been running everywhere, and what with work and everything…Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be silly,” he chuckled, “Just wanted to make sure you were alright, that’s all.”

“I’m alright—“ you started but then looked over your shoulder when you heard the doorbell ring, “Gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Sure thing, see you,” he said and hung up, so you jumped over the couch to rush to the door before you opened it to see Spencer standing there.

“Hey,” you smiled at him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, “Long day?”

He nodded silently and wrapped his arms around you, pressing you closer to inhale your scent.

“Hi,” he muttered into your hair, “Yeah. Long day.”

“I have wine?” you said as you pulled back, and closed the door after he stepped in, “I also have a bathtub even you could lose yourself in.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” he said and hesitated for a moment, “On second thought, do you have coffee?”

“Are you sure you want to drink coffee at eleven at night?”

“I still have some reports to go over,” he said, stepping into the living room while you put the coffee on and his eyes stopped on the huge screen that was still giving details about the copycat killer.

“You saw that huh?”

“Mm hm,” you watched him as he dropped his satchel and you went to sit down next to him on the couch. “I was checking the other news. That’s why you had to work overtime?”

He rubbed at his eyes and ran a hand through his fluffy hair as if it would help, “We thought the profile was changing but this whole thing just proves someone is trying to keep it stable.”

You pulled your brows together, “What?”

“The victimology didn’t match with the last two victims, and now one of the copycats ended up dead, probably the one who went rogue.”

“How did it not match?” you blinked a couple of times, “They all left a flower in the crime scene, no?”

“Well yeah, but the rest—“ he stopped for a moment, staring at you, “You never actually checked his victimology?”

“I never watched any of those interviews he gave after he was imprisoned, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yeah, and those interviews are the reason why we still don’t have a specific suspect because everyone knows everything about him, and most of your family life,” he heaved a sigh, “But you know what his victims had in common?”

“They all bled out while he watched,” you crossed your arms, leaning back to the arm of the couch, “I know that. He liked watching that.”

“Your father never killed anyone outside his social circle,” he reminded you, “They were all wealthy and overly successful people, remember? That’s why it took FBI so long to find him, because the previous profile was wrong. They thought it was someone who didn’t have access to the same resources, the same wealth and status, and it was for revenge.”

“Yeah but Spencer, he killed those people because he is evil.”

“He killed those people because in his mind, he was creating this…perfect business environment. Most of the people who got murdered were either failing business people or people who failed to meet his expectations. He was very successful, he expected the same from everyone. That’s his victimology. The flowers on the crime scene, they were just his signature. Well, his signature and his small offering to you.”

You thought for a moment, then went to the kitchen to pour him a cup of coffee before walking back to the couch.

“I still think this is a bad idea professor,” you muttered as you gave him the cup and he smiled at you, then took a sip while you lit up a cigarette.

“So then,” you crossed your legs, “His victims were the cream of society and that means something? Other than the fact that he was a psychopath?”

“That means a lot of things,” he said, “So far, most of the victims had a higher status in society, it means that the copycats actually wanted to continue his legacy from where he left off. Maybe not the people who disappointed them per se, but until these last two victims, they all had higher financial status, either family money or with their own successful companies but last month, someone first killed a bartender and then a social worker. The only thing that told us it was remotely connected was the flower in the crime scene.”

“That’s why the profile was changing,” you muttered to yourself, “Okay. Is that normal?”

“No, not at all,” he shook his head, “It’s very unfamiliar. It did prove our multiple copycat killers theory but other than that, it was going to make things incredibly harder until…” he nodded at the TV and you pulled your brows together.

“Hold on,” you sat up straighter, your mind working nonstop, “Multiple copycats who are trying to continue that monster’s legacy, and one happens to taint that legacy by going rogue…”

“And he gets killed,” he finished your sentence for you, “Exactly.”

“It was one of the copycats who killed him?”

“That’s my theory.”

“So they’re not actually working together then?” you asked, exhaling the smoke, “Or- or- wait, you said there could be one copycat that was controlling the others, maybe they did it?”

Spencer took a sip of his coffee, “It could also mean that the leader wouldn’t want to take chances like this again,” he said, “Someone tainted the legacy, he might begin to believe he cannot trust anyone with that again.”

You let out a breath, stubbing the cigarette, “What does that mean then? For…all of this?”

“It means that someone cares so much about your father’s legacy that they’re ready to kill anyone and everyone over it, even their partners,” he said, “It also means that their whole operation is starting to crack. It’s only a matter of time someone makes a mistake and ends up getting caught.”

You massaged your temples, “Well, at least one of us can see the light at the end of this psycho murder tunnel.”

“You can’t?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “It feels like it won’t stop,” you croaked out, “It’s like… It’s like I can’t wake up without dread filling me. It’s always there, at some corner of my mind. The more I think about it, the more I feel like—“ you stopped yourself and Spencer frowned, putting his coffee down.

“What?”

“You don’t want to hear that, trust me.”

“Try me.”

“The more I feel like it will go on until the day I die.”

“It’s impossible for this case to take that long, Y/N—“

“I didn’t say it’d take long,” you took a sip of your wine and heaved a sigh before you looked up at him, the expression on his face almost hurting your heart physically, “Told you that you didn’t want to hear it.”

“Don’t say that.”

You forced a small laugh and got up from the couch, suddenly restless.

“You said it yourself,” you said, pacing in the living room, “His victimology. He went after the people who disappointed him, right? Can you guess who’s disappointing him right now by not turning into the monster that he is?”

“That’s not what I—“ he shook his head fervently and stood up from the couch as well, “No. No way. It’s his victimology, but none of the psychiatric evaluations or anything on his file, including the list of his victims suggest that he would go after his family. There was a reason why he never tried to hurt you or Mina or your mother even back then—“

“No I’m sure they’re safe,” you said, “But Mina didn’t get flowers, professor. I have.”

“If our theory of him being in contact with the copycat is right, it means that your father is involved as well—hey,” he stopped you from pacing, reaching out to hold your hands in his, “Listen to me. Whoever it is, they will never, ever touch you. I’ll make sure of that.”

A painful smile pulled at your lips, “Spencer, that’s not your responsibility.”

“It is.”

“FBI can’t—“

“I’m not talking about the FBI, I’m talking about me.”

You took a shaky breath and wrapped your arms around his middle, burying your face into his chest as you swayed slightly.

“Is it okay if we stay like this for a moment?” you muttered, shifting your weight from one foot to another “I don’t— I can’t sit still, I don’t know why.”

“Do you want to hear the reason why?” he ran his fingertips over your spine up and down, as if trying to soothe you and you nodded.

“Yes please.”

“You feel threatened, so your brain is trying to understand where the danger is coming from. It’s telling you to either stand or run away, so it’s pumping adrenaline into your system. We call that nervous energy.”

“That could be my stripper name,” you mumbled, making a chuckle vibrate deeply in his chest, “Tell me more.”

“The nervous energy happens when you’re under stress,” he said, “Our primitive brain is used to physical threats and it created this system in order to protect us. The threat you’re afraid of is not here, not physical, but your brain is still sending that energy to your limbs so that you can attack that physical threat, or run away to somewhere safe. It’s all a part of your defense mechanism.”

You hmmed into his chest, still holding him tight as if someone would take him away from you before you sniffled and pulled back to look up at him.

“You know, I think I got something you can’t explain with science.”

He raised his brows, “Debatable.”

“Do you want to bet? If I win, you’ll tell me what you planned for the next date.”

“What if I win?”

You wiped at your nose, “Tell me your price, professor.”

“There’s this conference on smoking and its effects on health next week, if I win you will attend that with me.”

“That’s a very indirect way to say that you hate my smoking.”

“I mean, it’s better if you see the effects in that conference, I think it’ll be good for you. It has five sessions, so it’s around….7 hours, including breaks.”

You blinked a couple of times, then nodded. “7 hours? That’s— okay. Yeah, I’m sure— I’m sure it’ll be fun.”  

A smile pulled at his lips, “Okay,” he said, “What is it?”

“It’s just,” you nibbled on your lip, trying to find the right words, “I was thinking and I realized something. I— I think it’s instinctual somehow, you can’t really explain it with science but when you’re here…” you paused, “With me, I mean, this whole panic dissolves. I feel safe, and it’s so unfamiliar that I don’t—“ you let out a small laugh, “I don’t know how to deal with that. I normally don’t feel safe, ever.”

A small smile pulled at his lips and he tilted his head, his warm gaze focused on you. You scrunched up your nose.

“Don’t tell me science can explain that.”

“Oxytocin.”

“God damn it!” you exclaimed, making him laugh, “Oxytocin?”

“Yeah, oxytocin. It’s a hormone that ensures that you trust people along with everything else. Basically, your brain— when you’re attracted to someone, your brain releases dopamine, so your serotonin levels rise and it produces oxytocin. It’s a big part of romantic attachment, it’s released during sex as well.”

You arched a brow, a small smirk flashing over your face and he pressed his lips together, a look of mischief appearing on his face.

“It strengthens fidelity as well,” he explained, “Seeing your partner as more attractive than others, and preferring to interact more with your partner than strangers.”

You clicked your tongue, “7 hours of conference, here we come.”

“It’ll be fun, I heard they’re bringing a real lung.”

“Can’t wait,” you muttered and entwined your fingers with his, “Well for what it’s worth professor, I have a lot of oxytocin for you.”

He cleared his throat, “Scientifically, one of the most important aspects of it is reproduction, in females it triggers labor and in males it moves sperm so having a lot of oxytocin can be—“

“Spencer, I’m trying to talk dirty in a scientific way!” you groaned, a fire spreading over your face because of embarrassment and you took a step to walk away from him but he grabbed your hand to turn you around and tug you closer to him, making you let out a whine.

“I feel like an idiot,” you murmured and he shook his head fervently,

“No, of course not,” he said, pushing your hair behind your ear, “Hey. I don’t know anything about weddings. So we complete each other if you ask me.”

You scoffed a laugh and looked up at him, your brows furrowed together, “You really think that?”

He nodded and you heaved a sigh.

“Okay.”

“And…for your information,” he swallowed thickly, “I have a lot of oxytocin for you too.”

A giggle you couldn’t stop escaped from you as he leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss, making your stomach do a pleasant flip. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your lungs full of his scent, making you dizzy.

“They’ll take away your doctorates for that joke, professor,” you breathed out as he pulled back, resting his forehead on yours while you raked your nails over the back of his neck gently.

“Worth it,” he murmured to your lips, leaning in to kiss you again, this time pressing you closer to his body and your heart started beating in your throat, a whine climbing up to your throat, desire filling your system faster than any other drug.

“Would you like to stay the night?” you whispered, and his eyes shot up to yours, both of you aware what you were really asking. He looked almost hypnotized by the sight of you in his arms and he blinked a couple of times, as if trying to focus before he nodded.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice hoarse and you took a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” you managed to say, your whole being consumed by this moment. “Yeah, I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You could swear he could hear your heartbeat echoing through the room,

“No scientific explanation this time, professor?” you whispered against his lips and his fingers caressed the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a pleasant shiver from there to your whole body.

“No,” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, “Not this time. Not for the lady who imparadises my mind.”

The lady who imparadises my mind.

That was how Dante described Beatrice in Paradise.

You stood on your tiptoes to pull him into a kiss, then tugged at his hand to lead him into your bedroom.

Chapter 15

[smallblip]

You asked, I deliver! Part II of Accidental baby acquisition💖 I lost one of the asks 😩 but anon who asked about baby Udo, I named the baby in your honour! Saddle up cowboys! I’m not good with sequels but here we are-

Babygate:

the scandal that implies that a certain boy band member cheated on his partner (another band member) and had a kid even when the mom was never pregnant.

- urban dictionary

—

Reiner thinks things are alright. Life is definitely picking up. Pieck still sends him excerpts of her dirty fanfiction to proofread, Bertholdt is still doing all he can to “retire at 30”, Annie might have eloped with said boyfriend. But he’s seeing Porco on the regular now, he’s really cute, he’s got a nice ass. Reiner can’t complain.

He’s also recently donated his Levi Ackerman standee. Only because it’s getting increasingly hard to reconcile the fact that he has a life sized cutout of his colleague’s boyfriend in his room.

What he can complain about is said colleague (and friend) dropping bombs on him. He’s one of the moderators of one of the bigger No Name servers. Sometimes he wonders if that’s a conflict of interest because, well, he knows the guy on a first name basis. But today he has other concerns. He sees his notifications blowing up and decides to go on the No Name server. And lo and behold. There’s a paparazzi shot of Levi and Hanji with a stroller taking a walk in a new channel called “MYSTERY FAMILY?”.

He cancels his plans with Porco. “Don’t text me for the next few hours, got a fire to fight.” He clicks send, and feels kinda bad, so he sends Porco really dank meme to appease him. (That doesn’t stop Porco from doing exactly what Reiner told him not to do and demanding an explanation every five minutes).

He forces himself to take a deep breath before texting Hanji-

“Hanji… I don’t mean to be rude but…

WHAT THE FUCK?”

—

So here begins babygate. A conspiracy theory that took the Internet by storm.

“Levi Ackerman had a secret marriage! He was keeping this from us from the start!”

“It’s a publicity stunt to keep No Name relevant during their hiatus!”

“It’s an elaborate scheme by the company to punish Levi for announcing the hiatus without their knowledge!”

“Levi’s mystery partner was sent by the lizard people to take control of his mind and produce half-lizard, half-human hybrid babies to take over the world! What a bitch!” (This is Hanji’s favourite).

And the internet’s favourite- this is all an elaborate scheme to cover up the scandalous love affair between Levi and Eren- the band’s guitarist.

“What the fuck?” Levi had said during dinner once, to which Reiner had to swallow his food and pretend he never read or actively looked up ereri content. Yes. Reiner knows the name of their ship.

Levi hadn’t been too worried before, but when pictures of them shopping for baby stuff leaked online, something snaps. Something snaps and Erwin tells him he needs more time to figure out the biggest PR crisis in No Name history.

It’s Levi. Levi is the PR crisis.

So in the meantime, no shock reveals, no more social media, (if possible) no more leaving the house with pregnant girlfriend in tow. “Don’t do ANYTHING.” Erwin had said, “especially not you!” Erwin had directed that at Eren, who suggested he makes an announcement. Erwin shudders. He remembers all the past scandals they got themselves into just because Eren, bless him, didn’t know when to shut up.

“I’m sorry…” Levi says to Hanji when they’re cuddled up on the couch watching a documentary on whale migration.

“Huh?” Hanji says, voice muffled through her incessant sniffling because “whales are delivered tail first, Levi! They wear their mothers like hats!”

He apologises for putting her through the mess that is him and his job. And Hanji smiles at him. He wonders if their kid will look like her. He’s hoping they would.

“Levi…” Hanji sighs, taking his face in her hands, “that night at the bar I thought to myself ‘this man has a face I would risk it all for’… I think this counts within the realms of ‘all’”

Levi scoffs, but a smile is threatening the corners of his lips. Erwin’s nagging over the phone fades a little and he sinks a little lower into the couch. He sighs one more time for good measure before saying-

“So… you wanna know which my favourite babygate theory is?”

—

“And you’re really not bothered by all this?” Reiner asks, in an emergency meeting that he had scheduled into her calendar. He hates that he’s packing things into her already busy schedule when she’s about to pop but, he figures it’s better now than when the baby’s actually out. He had booked a meeting room and everything, figuring if he projected some of the crazy shit they’re saying on the fan boards up on screen, Hanji would start taking this seriously. Because if Reiner knows anything, it’s that the fans will do anything to keep their ship afloat.

He scrolls past another post on the lizard people and Hanji gets him to pause.

“I mean… A little?” Hanji pinches her fingers together.

“Hanji…” Reiner sighs, “you and Levi discuss and rate babygate conspiracy theories you find online I don’t think you’re taking this seriously at all…”

Hanji looks at Reiner- an absolute state of panic. And she considers panicking for a moment. She’s read articles dissecting babygate and although they’re absolutely batshit, Hanji appreciates how well-researched they are. Which is a little scary. To be fair to Levi, he’s been trying to get her to worry. “I can’t keep you safe all the time, you have to be careful” like he’s going off to war somewhere. But it’s not in Hanji nature to worry about things like this. She’s a researcher at a lab who lived an ordinary life up until the point the universe hit her with a-

Sike! Levi Ackerman is your baby daddy! What are you gonna do about it?

And now she knows what headcanons and lemons are, and she really doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge. So Hanji decides, she’ll do nothing. She’ll go on indulgently long walks Levi in tow, she’ll talk his ear off about work. And like a good girlfriend, she’ll listen to his demos (and enjoy them) and tell him “are you sure anger rhymes with danger?”.

“I don’t really know how to worry about anything beyond our samples getting contaminated…” Hanji says, sheepish. Reiner sighs. He doesn’t want to be a wet blanket on Hanji’s life. He wants to be fun Reiner. Cool as a cucumber. Reiner who manages to make it through dinner at Hanji’s without having to excuse himself to hyperventilate in her bathroom because Levi is right there. And he’s so afraid that he might just be able to read his mind and find out he had looked up Levi Ackerman x y/n fanfiction once in his foolish youth (youth being approximately four months back)

Reiner shudders.

“Yeah okay… That’s um… That’s cool… Right?” He says.

Hanji shrugs.

—

So Levi Ackerman is your baby daddy. Now what?

You go into labour of course, with a matter of fact- “oh. Look Levi. The water broke.” All while refusing to leave the house until you demolish that amazing sandwich he made for you. You go into labour and you yell and grunt like a beast as you squeeze the life out of your baby daddy because he kinda deserves it. You both kinda deserve this pain. Take it as heavenly punishment for being horny and stupid if you will.

And in the middle of it Hanji thinks huh, this feels like a mix of a reality TV show from MTV and a badly written fanfiction. Except Hanji isn’t a teen mom and she’s too old for self-insert fiction that involves a lead singer of a popular band.

But Levi is here, and he doesn’t complain one bit even though he looks like he’s about to pass out. So as far as drunken one night stands go- this is pretty damn aspirational.

The baby enters the world with a huge cry.

“Kid’s got a huge set of lungs…” Levi says, but his own voice is quivering.

“Just like her dad…” Hanji smiles.

As he watches Hanji fall asleep with their baby on her chest, Levi thinks fuck it. Fuck keeping this under wraps. Fuck the fans and them enjoying how Eren gets on his nerves. Fuck Erwin and his “Levi. You’re giving me a headache. You are the cause of this headache.” Because the baby has Hanji’s nose and his eyes and he loves them more than anything in the world.

He snaps a picture of them and tags bigdaddyzoë-

“Welcome to the world, my love.”

—

Reiner can’t help the tears that well in his eyes after seeing the picture Hanji had sent him of the baby-

“He says hi to his favourite uncle!” Was the caption, and Reiner could only reply with a crying cat meme and an incoherent text that Hanji favourites.

He’s on the bus on the way to the hospital when his phone buzzes incessantly. It’s Porco.

“REINER WHAT THE FUCK.”

“LEVI ACKERMAN IS HANJI ZOË’S BABY DADDY?”

“HANJI ZOË MY PHD SUPERVISOR?”

“LEVI ACKERMAN OF NO NAME?”

“REINER WHAT THE FUCK?”

He sends a reply at the entrance of the hospital-

“Welcome to my world”

—

Reiner thinks things are alright. He’s one of the moderator of one of the bigger No Name servers, so he can block and remove people at his discretion. Some days he lets it get to his head. It makes him feel like a king. But today, he’s putting out fires.

Erwin decided their PR strategy was absolutely no strategy, because “they’re zooming in on the pixels Levi. Once they doubt the pixels, they won’t believe anything we’re saying”. With that. Babygate has officially taken on a life of its own. Eren still sends Levi babygate articles to annoy him, and to Hanji because she asked very nicely. Hanji thinks Erwin’s strategy makes sense, Levi thinks it’s just lazy. But Erwin framed a certificate that says “survived a PR crisis (sort of)” that Hanji had insisted be hung up on their wall, so that closes one chapter. Besides, Eren has been spotted going out on dates with a mystery girl. Which has the double effect of diverting attention away from Levi and exacerbating babygate because “see? Told you the company’s doing all they can to prove they’re not together!”

“Can’t you keep it in your pants?” Levi had thrown at Eren, to which he had responded cleverly with a-

“Could’ve said the same for you!”

Touché…

“See? That can’t be Levi! Look at how he’s smiling!”

“That can’t be a baby! Looks like an animatronic to me!”

“Do they even make animatronics that realistic?”

Reiner pins his “no slander” rule- one day they’ll get it. Or at least he would’ve gotten rid of all the people that don’t.

“Who’s this bigdaddyzoë anyway?”

“Maybe she isn’t real? Company probably invented her…”

“Heard she’s a crazy groupie who got knocked up…”

“Heard she’s hot…”

… several people are typing

—

“So… I heard from Reiner you were defending my honour in the server?” Hanji quirks an eyebrow.

Levi shrugs. Whatever goes down in the server stays between Leviackerman173810 (leviackerman and all 173809 permutations of said username had already been taken) and the hundreds of people who haven’t quite figured out he’s the real deal. Besides, Erwin has issued him three warnings so it’s best to lay low for now.

“My hero…” Hanji chuckles, pressing a kiss on Levi’s head. Below them, baby Udo wriggles and yawns against the fabric of Levi’s shirt. Cute.

So Levi Ackerman is your baby daddy. Now what? You look at your son and know he’s going to break hearts like his father of course. And if you’re Levi, you pray to god he never asks about babygate because Hanji has read up enough about it to be considered a connoisseur.

One day the internet will break when they find out the identity of bigdaddyzöe. But for now baby Udo has his parents wrapped around his tiny fingers and he doesn’t quite understand the concept of him being the spawn of every typical band member x y/n fanfiction. Or the centre of a very popular, very absurd, yet strangely believable internet conspiracy theory. Or the canon plot that has sunk one of the biggest No Name ships. And that’s okay.

[honeypiehotchner]

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- chapter eighteen

Helloooo I almost posted this yesterday as a thank you gift and then I totally got caught up in schoolwork. Gotta love finals season am I right

Anywho, thank y’all so much for 1.7k followers <3 Here’s a long ass chapter that’s a good ol’ mix of fluff and angst xx.

Chapter Warnings: waking-up-together kinda fluff, no sexytimes but there are some ~suggestive~ comments of course, ANGST at the end (i’m so sorry), the end of this case is very near on the horizon

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Aaron wakes you when his first alarm goes off at 5a.m. It’s way too fucking early in your opinion, but you know he wants you to have time to go back to Emily and JJ’s room to get ready for the day.

Still, being woken by a kiss on your forehead is something you can see yourself getting used to. Not to mention using his chest as a pillow all night.

You tilt your head to capture his lips in a sweet kiss, not caring that the both of you probably have disgusting morning breath right now.

He pulls away first, nudging your nose with his before he rests his forehead on yours, looking deep into your eyes. “Good morning, sweet girl.”

You can’t help the smile that splits your lips. “Good morning.” You close your eyes in your flustered state, burying your face down into his chest. “I don’t want to leave.”

“I want you to stay,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But we’ve got a job to do.”

“I know,” you sigh, opening your eyes to bring yourself back to reality. Then, you hook your arms around his neck, starting to grin. “Same thing tonight?”

He smirks, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Depends on how much of a good girl you are today.”

“Ooh, a challenge,” you tease. “I dunno…I’m feeling pretty bratty this morning.”

You feel his arm tighten around your shoulders, drawing you closer to him in warning.

“I’m just teasing,” you murmur, propping your chin on his chest, giving him your best eyes.

But he isn’t fazed. “I know. I’m keeping track.”

So, naturally, you pout. “Fine.”

“Strike two.”

“I have a feeling this isn’t like baseball. Three strikes and I’m out?”

“Are you trying to find out?”

“Mm, maybe?” You grin, but, as always, the FBI Agent part of your brain comes back to life. “If we didn’t have to be downstairs soon, I’d say yes. But I probably should go get dressed.”

“Understood,” Aaron replies, a small grin on his lips too. “I suppose even as your boss, I can’t keep you here.”

“As my boss, we’re technically not even supposed to be in the same bed together,” you remind him with a snort, but seriousness comes over him. “What?”

“We still need to talk,” he says quietly. “Really talk about this, but right now I just want you to know...I don’t regret this. I want this. No matter the consequences.”

“Me too,” you whisper, fingernails gently scratching the base of his skull, your weak attempt at comfort. “Do you think there’ll be consequences?”

He sighs, and you rise and fall with his chest. “I don’t know.” He pauses. “If Strauss finds out somehow, maybe. I don’t know if keeping it from her until she inevitably finds out is better than telling her ourselves, but…”

“We’ll figure it out,” you assure him with a small smile. “But you wanna do this?”

Instead of answering you verbally, he pulls you closer for a soothing kiss, coaxing all your worries away.

“I want to do this,” he says, knowing you need to hear the words from his voice.

“Okay,” you murmur, taking a deep breath. “What do we do about the team?”

His eyebrows furrow. “What about them?”

You give him a tired look. “Come on. They know.”

“What?” He blurts, sitting up a little, taking you with him. “Rossi knows.”

“And Emily and JJ and Garcia,” you chuckle. “I didn’t even tell them. Emily saw us at dinner one night. JJ figured it out from the phone call a few days ago. Garcia just...knows.”

“What about Morgan and Reid?”

“Are you kidding me? Morgan knows. Have you seen how he irritates the shit out of me every day?”

“Exactly,” Aaron says. “He does it every day.”

“Have you noticed how he’s been doing it especially when you’re around?” You raise an eyebrow. “Come on, you’re our supervisor! I thought you were a better profiler than that!”

“We have a rule not to profile each other,” he says sternly, obviously a little butthurt that he didn’t see that everyone else knew.

“A rule that none of us stick to, by the way,” you laugh. “We just don’t voice it. But we do. Trust me.”

“I didn’t think you’d figured that out yet,” he admits.

“Eh,” you shrug. “It wasn’t hard. I caught myself profiling everyone. I figured I couldn’t be the only one who does it by accident.”

Aaron only smiles. He’s amazed by you every single day. Sometimes he wonders if you even know how intelligent you are. If you even know the full scope of your mind. Maybe you don’t, maybe no one does.

“But anyway,” you swerve back on track. “I feel like it should be unspoken, but just...no PDA, you know? It’s fine that they know because honestly I think they knew before we knew, but let’s not make it a big deal.”

“Agreed,” he nods. “We still need to be professional.”

“Exactly,” you breathe, glad to be on the same page.

His second alarm goes off, the one for 5:30, and you groan, dropping your forehead to his chest.

“Why does it have to be so early?” You mutter, your lips brushing against his skin as you speak. It sends a hot wave through him, one that causes him to promptly shift your body off of him. “What are you doing?”

“You need to go get dressed,” he says. “And if you stay here wrapped around me any longer, I won’t be able to let you leave.”

You grin. “Point taken.”

You roll off the mattress, fully aware that he’s looking at your ass, and at your entire body, marveling at the way you look in his shirt.

“Oh,” you say, doing a dramatic turn, watching his eyes very quickly move back to your face. “Do you have any boxers? I probably shouldn’t walk down the hall in just a shirt.”

He’s scrambling for a pair of his boxer briefs, the thought of anyone else seeing you just like this making his blood boil frighteningly fast.

“Thanks,” you smirk when he hands them to you. And you put them on in front of him, partly for a show and partly because the look he was giving you demanded it. “I’ll see you in an hour or so?”

He nods. “Try not to spend too much time gossiping.”

“Oh, please,” you shake your head. “They’re getting all the details.”

You’re out the door before he can even catch you, and you just know you’re going to get it later.

+++

Emily and JJ are on you as soon as you open the door, both of them dressed and ready, arms folded over their chests like Moms whose daughter stayed out too late last night.

In a way, that’s completely accurate.

“And where have you been?” JJ asks, fully entering her Mom persona.

“Uhm, a friend’s house?” You play along, trying to inch your way to the bathroom.

But Emily knows your move, and stands in front of the bathroom door. “Is this friend named Aaron?”

“...maybe.”

And the façade falls, because they both cheer, pulling you into a hug.

“Finally!” Emily screams.

“Finally, what?” You laugh. “The night before I was also in his room.”

“Oh, we know,” JJ assures you.

“Finally, you admit it,” Emily clarifies. “So...details?”

“So...we have to be downstairs soon and I need to get dressed,” you walk past them to your bag. After grabbing your clothes, you turn back around to find them still staring at you. “What?”

“You’re in his shirt,” JJ says, still smiling.

“And boxers,” you laugh, pulling the hem of his t-shirt up a little. “Guys, don’t make this a big thing.” You pause, heading toward the bathroom. “He was a little upset that I knew everyone knew, and he didn’t.”

“How did he not?” Emily scoffs. “He can be so dense.”

You shake your head, shutting the bathroom door to get dressed.

When you emerge from the bathroom, now dressed and looking more presentable, Emily and JJ are finally getting ready, too. They still watch you like a pair of hawks stalking prey, though. You just hope they won’t make any comments later.

That’s wishful thinking and you know it. But hopefully the comments will be held in at least until you’re all on the jet, heading back to Virginia.

+++

When you walk out of the elevator with Emily and JJ, you find Hotch standing with Rossi, the former looking much more grave than you left him. And he’s on the phone.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, picking up the pace. You glance at Hotch, silently asking, and he nods. “There’s another body,” you fill in Emily and JJ, ignoring the strange look that Rossi gives you.

Once Hotch hangs up, he looks immediately at you. “There’s two bodies. Male and female.”

“What?” Emily blurts. “In the same location?”

He nods. “Same house.”

About this time, Morgan and Reid step out of the elevator, jogging over when they see the team’s faces.

“What’s going on?” Morgan asks.

“Two bodies this time, same house, male and female,” you explain briefly.

Hotch jumps in. “JJ: you, Reid, and Y/N head over to the precinct and get Garcia on the phone. Get her to find everything she can on these new victims.”

You nod, glad he’s not sending you to see anymore bloodied bodies. Just the thought has a chill running down your spine.

You don’t want to admit it, but it’s hard not to picture Trevor’s face. It’s hard not to feel the thrill of the possibility of revenge. But you know that’s only the irrational part of your brain. You know you wouldn’t really act on those thoughts.

But they’re still there.

+++

Back at the precinct, you’re dialing Garcia and stirring a cup of shitty coffee. When she picks up, she sounds about as frizzed as you feel.

“Good morning, my angel sent from Heaven,” she sings, sounding far too bright for seven in the morning. “What can I do you for?”

“Good morning,” you chuckle. “We’ve got two new victims.”

“Mm, I know,” she groans, and you begin to hear typing. “Morgan texted me their names, I was waiting for your call.”

“Yep, we just need you to work your magic, that’s all.”

“That I can do,” she replies, no doubt through a smile. “Speaking of magic…”

You already know where this is heading. “Seriously? Who told you?”

“JJ and Emily texted me,” Garcia admits. “But you know I was going to weasel it out of you eventually, anyway!”

“Yes, I know,” you roll your eyes, tossing the coffee stirrer and empty cream and sugar packets in the trash. “Listen, how about this: Once this case is over, we’ll all have a girl’s night at my place with a bunch of junk food and wine, and I’ll give all the details -- whatever they might be at that point.”

You can’t let yourself believe that you’ll still be together because who knows what could happen. Anything could happen. The universe has a bad habit of getting in the way of your love life.

“You know the way to my heart,” Garcia sighs dreamily. “It’s a date. Speaking of dates, it looks like our two victims were married.”

“Married?” You nearly yell. Talk about a plot twist. “And the guy brought our unsub home for a one-night stand?”

“Looks that way so far,” Garcia says with a grimace. “Caroline Merritt, 35, was the CEO of her own company and traveled a lot. It looks like she changed flights yesterday and landed around eleven p.m. She checked her car out of the airport parking lot at eleven forty-five.”

“Great, so she might’ve walked in on our unsub.” You rub your forehead from the stress. “What about the other victim?”

“Jasper Rhodes was 34 and a part-time worker at the local Walmart,” Garcia lists off. “They had been married for three years, but Caroline never changed her last name.”

“Don’t exactly blame her,” you remark. “Alright, which one had allegations?”

“I’m about to burst your bubble, babycakes. Neither of them.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Garcia echoes, just as solemn. “Caroline has a squeaky clean record, aside from one speeding ticket when she was seventeen for going forty-five in a school zone. Jasper also has a clean slate for a record, but he does have one DUI from when he was twenty-two. Nothing else since.”

“It’s been twelve years, so for all we know, he could be sober for a decade now,” you mutter. “Okay. Do they have any connection at all to our other victims? Please say yes.”

“Cross referencing as we speak,” Garcia says, typing furiously. “Almost done… Negative,” she sighs. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head. “Thank you for being such a wizard, as always.”

“It’s my specialty,” she quips. “So...do I get some details about you and Hotch now?”

“Goodbye Garcia…” You chuckle, ending the call before she can ask anything else.

You walk back into the conference room, shaking your head sadly at JJ who looks up with hopeful eyes.

“Garcia found virtually nothing. Caroline got a speeding ticket at seventeen, and Jasper a DUI at twenty-two. Nothing since. And no connection to any of our other victims,” you relay the information, ending it with a sip of your coffee.

“This unsub is good,” JJ says, exasperated. “How is she always three steps ahead of us?”

“She’s not, really,” Reid says, and you can feel something else coming on. “It’s like she knows we’re closing in on her, so she’s going after those who have no reported allegations. She’s not as far ahead as we think, but maybe that’s what she wants us to think.”

“Reid, dude, you’re sounding like a fortune cookie right now,” you laugh. “I get where you’re going with this. But unless they find some DNA at the crime scene, we’re back to square one again.”

“Maybe…” He trails away, getting up to look at the map.

Something is going on in his head, but you’re not sure what. He’ll tell you when he’s finished with it, you’re sure.

In your pocket, your phone starts buzzing. Thinking it’s Garcia, you pull it out and answer without looking, but Garcia’s voice isn’t what you hear on the other end.

“I’m heading back to the precinct,” Hotch says.

“O...kay,” you furrow your eyebrows, mouthing, ‘Hotch’ to JJ. “Why just you?”

“I need to show you something,” he says slowly, like he’s struggling to get the words out. “The unsub left a note.”

“What does it say?” You ask, wondering why it’s like pulling teeth to get him to speak.

“It’s addressed to you,” he finally says, and all the blood drains from your body. “It’s in an envelope and sealed. Your… Your name is on the front.”

You’re not sure what to make of that at all.

“Okay,” you say, your brain unable to really process it. “Okay, we’ll look at it when you get here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Aaron,” you whisper, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Don’t say that to me. You’re scaring me.” You pause. “What are you sorry for?”

“For this note,” he replies, voice quiet. “For this unsub targeting you, and now for scaring you.”

“What does the note say?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I didn’t open it.”

“Okay. Just...hurry, I guess.”

“I’m turning into the parking lot now.”

“Okay, see you in a sec,” you murmur, ending the call.

You look up from the phone to find both JJ and Reid staring at you, concern swimming deeply in their eyes. You don’t even have the energy to offer them a reassuring smile. Nothing about this is comfortable for you.

Why would the unsub leave a note addressed to you?

Hotch walks through the precinct doors a few moments later, a man on a mission as he walks directly to the conference room. You’re explaining to JJ and Reid about the note when he walks in, and you fall silent upon seeing him.

He hates that he even called you to warn you, but he had to do something. His mind was racing on the drive. He had to hear your voice, and he knew you were bound to ask why he was coming back on his own, what’s so urgent, so he knew he’d have to tell you.

But the fear in your eyes right now is something he never wants to see again. Ever.

“Where is it?” You say, your voice wavering.

Slowly, Hotch pulls the envelope out of his jacket pocket. It’s in a plastic bag, which is standard protocol for evidence, and you begin searching for a pair of gloves.

You find a pair and start to slip them on, grimacing at the way your hands shake, and using your peripheral vision to see that Aaron is watching you closely.

Once you’re gloved up, he hands you the plastic bag. It feels much heavier than it should.

Carefully, you pull out the envelope, swallowing down the nausea you’re feeling. As Hotch said, your name -- Agent Y/N L/N -- is scrawled on the front in messy handwriting. Fortunately, Reid can examine that, and this letter if it’s handwritten.

You break the seal on the envelope, flinching slightly, and ignoring that you did. But Aaron saw it.

You pull out the note and half of you cries in relief because it is handwritten, and the other half of you feels sheer terror because your business card is taped to the top left hand corner.

“Shit,” you cuss, closing your eyes.

“What?” Aaron asks, taking a step closer, lowering his head to meet your eye level.

“My business card,” you say, opening your eyes again, hating the way things look blurry for a moment. JJ and Reid are just fuzzy figures at the table when you look around the room. “It could’ve been anyone at the meetings. I handed my card to as many that would take it. There’s no way I’ll remember everyone, or even half of them, I mean, I ran out of cards, I had to go stand by Morgan because--”

“Okay, okay, slow down,” Aaron stops you, putting both hands on your arms. “Look at me, please.”

Slowly, the world comes back into focus and you meet his brown eyes, finding your peace there like you have so many other times before. You focus on the weight of his hands on your arms, grounding you, bringing you back.

“I know it’s difficult,” he says. “But you need to breathe.”

You nod, sucking in a deep breath a little too abruptly, not even realizing you had been taking shallow breaths in the first place.

“Good girl,” he whispers, so low that he’s almost mouthing it, careful not to let JJ or Reid hear. And it’s not sexual or sensual this time. It’s comforting. “Can you read the rest of it?”

You nod. “I can help you end your suffering. I can help you avenge. I can help you heal. It doesn’t have to be this way.” You pause, looking up from the note, looking between Hotch, JJ, and Reid. “What does that even mean?”

“Did you talk about your experience during the meetings?” Reid asks.

“A little bit, but I barely scratched the surface of it,” you admit. “And I didn’t mention any names. I might hate him, but...I’d never send a serial killer after him.”

“I know,” Hotch says. “We’re not accusing you of that,” he adds gently. “It’s clear our unsub feels a connection to you now. Something you said must’ve resonated deeply with her.”

“But all I said was that he was my fiancé and that I didn’t report him, so that still gets us nowhere. She’s still a ghost.”

“She’s not a ghost,” he says sternly. “We will find her. You’ve already seen her once.”

“Yeah, but I don’t remember seeing her, Hotch.”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is she’s reaching out. Which means we’re close.”

“Not close enough,” you protest, tossing the letter back on the plastic bag on the table. “I need to take a walk.” You move toward the door, and he’s following you, so you add quietly, “Alone, please.”

Hotch nods, and watches you go, more worried than he’s ever been in his life.

+++

When Rossi, Emily, and Morgan return to the police precinct, they spot you sitting alone on a bench outside the front doors.

“I got this,” Morgan says, hopping out of the car and heading to you, gesturing for Rossi and Emily to head inside. They share a look and nod, disappearing into the precinct to leave Morgan alone with you.

You don’t even look up from your hands when you see Morgan coming over from your peripheral vision.

“What’s up, kiddo?” He asks, standing in front of you.

“I’m really not in the mood right now, Derek.”

“Too bad,” he shrugs, sitting next to you on the bench, stretching his arm out behind you. “What’s going on? You know I’m just gonna keep buggin’ you until you tell me.”

You snort. “I know.”

“So…” He pauses. “Tell me. It’ll save us both a whole lotta time. And it’ll save you a whole lotta stress, sittin’ there with all that in your head.”

You know he’s right. And you know he’s the only one who really gets it.

So, you tell him what’s wrong.

“The unsub left that note just for me. My card was taped to it, Morgan.”

“And?”

“What do you mean and? It means I laid eyes on her, maybe talked to her, handed her my fucking card, and I still didn’t know it was her.”

“We’re not superhuman, Y/N. We only see what they show us. She probably put on a mask while talking to you.”

“Well now she’s still out there--”

“Listen to me. I ran out of cards too, remember? We started using yours. I easily could’ve given her your card. Hell, I was there with you, I probably looked at her a dozen times, too. Are you gonna yell at me for not recognizing her?”

“No--”

“Then stop doing it to yourself, you hear me?”

“I just… She feels a connection to me. What does that say about me?”

“That you’re a relatable person,” Derek offers, causing you to glare at him. “Hey,” he raises a hand in surrender. “I’m just being logical. It doesn’t say anything about you. Because a serial killer’s view of you is not who you are. You are who you are.”

“Thanks for the fortune cookie.”

“Don’t get that tone with me, kid,” he replies tiredly. “You know you’re not really mad at me, so don’t take it out on me, okay?”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you rub your forehead. “I’m just…”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.”

“I know that.”

“I know you know that, but you still need to hear it,” he says. “And I’ll always be here to tell you, got that?”

You look over at him with a small smile. “Got it.”

He smiles too, glad to see you’re feeling better. He shoves your shoulder lightly, playfully. “Come on. Let’s get back in there.”

“Yeah,” you nod, standing up.

He walks ahead, but you stay still, wondering if you should even ask what you’re about to ask. But Derek notices your hesitation and turns back around, studying you.

“Spit it out,” he says, knowing there’s something.

“The unsub is trying to talk to me,” you say, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. “So...what if we set up a trap.”

“What?” Morgan deadpans, raising his eyebrows, turning his body to completely face you.

“What if we--”

“Use you as bait?” Morgan finishes, incredulity coating his words.

You nod. “I wasn’t going to word it like that, but--”

He scoffs, looking more and more pissed off as the seconds go on. “Hell no. Are you outta your damn mind?”

“No, I’m not. I’m--”

“No,” he stops you, holding up his hand, pointing at you. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Don’t go there. We will find this unsub, and we will do it without you sacrificing yourself.”

“I wouldn’t be sacrificing myself!” You protest. “You guys would be there. You’d have my back.”

“We can’t predict everything this unsub will do, Y/N, you know that,” Morgan fires back. “And I’ll be damned if I let you throw yourself into danger like this. It’s not happening. You hear me?”

SIghing, you nod. “I hear you.”

“Have you even told Hotch about this?”

“No.”

“Good. Don’t,” Morgan replies. “You’ll just get a lecture and you and I both know you don’t need that right now.”

“I know.”

He pauses, shaking his head. He steps forward, wrapping you in a hug, eyes closing when he feels you burying your face in his neck. “I love you, kid,” he whispers. “And I know it’s hard, but you got this, we got this. And it’s gonna be okay. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nod into his neck, taking a deep breath. “Yeah.”

Next chapter

[aomine-ryo]

kise breaking up with fem s/o like maybe he just used her or it was a bet or idk (yaaas angst but idk if you could make a HEA work at the end?? but yeah :P) scenario pls thank youu ❤️❤️

The DRAMA lmaooo

I really like writing for Kise ngl so it’s kinda long. I hope you like this :) x

Scenario: Kise using and breaking up with a fem! s/o

Kise Ryouta likes playing games. Basketball, football, tennis— you name it, he’s probably played it. But things like sports take a long time to hone enough skills to thoroughly enjoy it. So what does Kise do when he’s in the need for a quick bit of fun? Fool around with girls’ hearts, of course.

Kise’s track record with girls has not been the best. In fact, the track record is so incredibly long that it would take a week to get through it all. Despite this, he gets girls falling for him time and time again because of his looks. It’s quite pathetic to him really. At this point, he’s just seeing how far he can go with this. The moment he gets bored with the girl he’s with, he calls it quits and moves on to the next. Toying with their feelings over and over.

You were fully aware of this. But for some reason, you thought you were different. No one could blame you to be fair. There’s something charming about Kise that no one could resist.

Prior to your relationship, you and Kise were actually quite close as far as classmates went. He was paired as your lab partner for Chemistry and he also sat behind you for Math so it was inevitable that you had to communicate. He’d tell you all about basketball and all his endeavours with other girls and you’d just listen whilst trying to make sure he didn’t cause any chemicals to explode (it was quite ridiculous how often this nearly happened).

“So, Y/N, what’s your deal?” He asked you in the middle of a practical activity one day.

“My deal?” You repeated in a questioning tone, taking your eyes off of your notes to look at him in confusion.

“You know, I’m always the one sharing. Tell me about yourself. Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked you.

You did your best to hold back a laugh so that you didn’t seem pathetic in front of your crush. “No, I don’t,” you answered simply.

“Seriously? When did your last relationship end?” he asked, getting way too comfortable with the questions.

“I’m not sure. Maybe a year ago?” you replied, hoping this conversation would end because it was embarrassing on your part.

“A year?!” Kise exclaimed far too loud for your comfort.

“Geez let the whole school know, why don’t you?” You snapped, a tint of pink rising in your cheeks as you looked around nervously.

“Well that’s just simply wrong. Someone as cute as you shouldn’t be single for that long,” Kise said smoothly, catching you off guard as your cheeks got even brighter.

“Hm, sure,” you muttered in a sarcastic tone as you did your best not to leap in joy at the fact that he called you cute.

“No, I’m serious. Let me take you out on a date,” Kise said with his award winning smile.

You felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest and lay limp on the table in front of you. “Ha ha very funny. As if you even like me like that,” you said, maintaining your cool and logical thinking.

Kise placed his hand on top of yours, which was resting on the table, the sudden warmth sending your mind into a frenzy as you looked at him with concern. “Well I’ve actually liked you for a while now. I was kind of just working up the courage to actually ask you out,” he said, the sweetness of his words paired with the way his thumb grazed over the back of your palm swaying your judgement.

You took a deep breath in attempt to collect your thoughts. You had to be realistic here. You didn’t want to end up like those other girls he talked about. “You’ve practically gone around the whole school. What makes me so different to the other people you’ve gone out with?” you said, hating how harsh you sounded.

Kise seemed to be impressed by your response. It wasn’t often that girls would question him like this. However, it just make him smile with joy. He liked a challenge; you would be adding good fun to Kise’s game.

“I’m not sure. Something about you makes you so easy to talk to. You should know— after all, you know so much about me at this point when I barely know anything about you,” Kise said before tightening his grip on your hand. “We’d work well as a couple, don’t you think?”

You tried to think it over, but your mind was far too blown away with this information that you couldn’t even form a coherent thought. Every part of you screamed at you to say yes, but you were still hesitant. You didn’t want to end up getting hurt. “Could you give me some time to think about it?” You asked, noticing Kise’s smile falter a bit.

Hearing that answer made him ecstatic though. It had been a while since someone seemed to be uninterested. It just meant that he could try harder and improve his game. Which is exactly what he did. He gave you a few days to think about it, but he certainly didn’t sit idle and wait around for a response. He’d send you texts every now and then, engage in flirty conversations with you during class, and even buy you chocolates in attempt to get you to say yes.

It worked though. In the end, you couldn’t say no to Kise Ryouta.

To you, it seemed like he liked being around you. He was always giggly and cheery and your relationship seemed to be lasting longer than the average length of Kise’s past relationships. Maybe you were the one who could finally tie him down.

“Hey there, cutie,” Kise smiled at you as he walked into the classroom of your after-school club one evening.

As usual, the supervisor was not around when Kise entered so he took his liberty in placing a peck on your lips as a way to greet you. A few of his exes were a part of your club and they’d always roll their eyes at the act, but you didn’t pay too much attention to it. “Hi Ryouta,” you’d reply softly once he pulled away, though his hand would remain on your waist.

“Ready to go?” He asked.

“Err,” your eyes scanned your area to see if you’d left any of your belongings. “Yep, all good,” you nodded, letting him lead the way out as you waved a quick goodbye to your friends.

“So, how was your practice?” you asked him as you walked across the school campus towards the gates.

“It was fine. Nothing new. You should come watch me practice, it’d be much more fun with you there,” he smiled, swinging his arm around your shoulder and causing you to lose your balance for a moment.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the act. You were now pressed against the side of his body as you walked, and the scent of his sweet cologne was stronger than ever. “You know I would if I could,” you replied.

“I like having you there to cheer me on. Plus I won’t miss you during practice then,” Kise said, causing you to blush. He’d used this line on countless other girls before and it always worked. It was fun to watch how you’d all just wrap around his finger so simply.

“God that’s so cheesy,” you said, averting your gaze out of embarrassment.

“Well it’s true,” Kise responded. He didn’t get that kind of response often but it was still clear as day that you enjoyed it.

Kise placed a kiss on the top of your head as you two continued to walk and talk about your days. This was how it always was with Kise. He’d pick you up after school and walk you home, saying goodbye to you with a rather passionate kiss.

Every now and then, Kise would be left home alone, so he’d call you over. And who were you to say no spending time like that with Kise? You had to admit, Kise knew what he was doing. You were never left unsatisfied. Surprisingly to Kise, he actually enjoyed this time you spent together more than he did with most other girls. He didn’t think too much of it though because he had made up his mind about you. You were just another one of his little games.

A few weeks into the relationship, you had started feeling more comfortable with your relationship with Kise. In fact, most of the school had begun to identify you two as a couple. Everything seemed to be going smoothly with him though, so you weren’t all too worried about that because you genuinely did feel like there was something between you two.

One Friday evening though, he picked you up after school with a smile like he always would. The two of you liked to visit a nearby cafe after school on Fridays so that’s where you were headed. He listened to you talk about your day though he seemed to be a little less responsive than usual.

“Hey Ryouta, is something wrong?” you asked him after you two finally settled down at the cafe after placing your orders.

“I know this is kind of sudden, but can I be honest for a moment?” Kise asked, a discomforted expression sitting upon his face.

“Of course, you can tell me anything,” you nodded, putting a hand over his reassuringly as a waitress placed his hot chocolate and your strawberry milkshake on the table.

“These past few weeks with you have been amazing,” Kise began. He always hated this part— it was such a pain. “And you’re really a cool person.”

“Aw thank you. That’s so sweet of you,” you smiled as he took a sip of his beverage.

“But I don’t think that this is going to work out between us, Y/N,” he said, making your heart sink.

“What?” you said hoarsely, unable to believe your ears.

“I think we should break up,” he reiterated.

You struggled to fight back your tears as your throat felt as though it was closing up. You should’ve known this would happen. “I don’t understand. What went wrong?”

“Y/N, you’re amazing and I feel like you probably deserve better than me,” Kise said. He’d used this line many times before too. However, a small part of him was genuine about it this time.

“Why do I feel like you’re lying to me?” You said, thinking out loud.

Kise was taken aback by your response. Did you see through him? “Lying to you? About what?”

“About why you’re breaking up with me. Someone like you wouldn’t think that there’s anyone ‘better’. So what is it? Is there someone else?” you couldn’t believe how blunt you were being. Your mind was moving too fast for you to process what was even going on.

Kise hesitated for a moment. He didn’t have to tell you the truth. He could easily lie his way out of this. Make up any other reason that isn’t the truth to spare your feelings. How could he say that he’s bored of playing around with you in a nice way? “I never actually wanted to be with you,” he said, words flying out of his mouth as if he drank a truth potion.

“Excuse me?” You said, appalled by what you were hearing.

“I mean, I was using you— wait no, I was just messing around.” Kise was a stuttering mess. Why was he saying this stuff? Why was he nervous to hurt your feelings? Why couldn’t you have just accepted that he wanted to break up easily like everyone else?

“You were using me?” You repeated his words, your sadness slowly turning into anger. “So was I just another fling of yours?”

“No,” Kise replied immediately. What was he saying? Yes you were.

“No?”

“I mean, yes you were. I was just bored and decided to date you for fun,” Kise said honestly, unable to even look at you in the face.

“So it’s true then. I’m just another one of your throwaway girls?”

“Yes,” Kise said. His eyes looked down in shame. Why was he mad at himself?

“You’re such an asshole!” You yelled, throwing your milkshake into his face, gaining the attention of everyone at that cafe. “Never talk to me again.”

You stormed out of the cafe, wiping the tears away from your eyes as you did so. Kise was left sticky, soaking and dumbfounded. This was certainly a first. He grabbed a few tissues to wipe the drink off of himself, but it was no use, he was still visibly covered in it. He quickly left the cafe too after apologising to the workers for causing a scene. He felt so embarrassed. Not once did he ever feel so hurt after a break up.

“Ugh what a bitch,” he muttered to himself as he walked home all sticky. Why was that so incredibly difficult? If anything, he was glad you told him not to talk to you again because he was equally mad at you for putting him on the spot like that.

When he got home, he immediately took a shower and tossed his clothes in the laundry basket. Once he was finally clean, he landed on his bed with a tired sigh, beginning to go through his phone like he usually would when he gets back from school. He noticed that you had blocked him on all social media, so there was no way of contacting you— not that he wanted to anyways.

He spent the rest of his weekend lazing around and going out with his friends like he usually would. He tried to get a fresh start and get the numbers of a few cute girls he saw, but for some reason all he could think about was you. He’d ask for a girl’s number and they were more than compliant, no witty comments like you would do. He’d go to the mall with his friends and remember which stores you liked to shop at. Hell, he couldn’t even have peace in his own bedroom because he’d remember you laying there with him. Countless other girls have been on this bed so why were you the one that stuck?

Kise did his best to avoid you at school. It wasn’t all that hard since you were doing the same. You inevitably had to work with him during Chemistry, but you could do so with minimal words exchanged.

A few weeks went by and Kise still couldn’t get you out of his mind. He tried going out with other girls but they never kept Kise’s attention long enough for him to forget about you. There were even times where he’d almost call them by your name. It was getting pathetic at this point. Maybe he did actually like you.

Kise’s mind entertained this thought for a while and it was slowly picking him apart. It even began to affect his performance at basketball because his mind was so occupied with the thought of being in an actual relationship with you. He was beginning to grow tired of running extra laps as a punishment for not being focused.

What made you so different? Kise couldn’t figure it out no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps that milkshake to the face woke him up. No other girl would dare do that to him. We he really being swayed by the fact that you threw a milkshake at him?

Eventually he gave up trying to figure it out. However he did come to a conclusion. He wanted to be with you. For real this time.

He managed to run into you after school one day. After dating you, he managed to memorise your schedule so finding you wasn’t too much of an issue for him. “Hey Y/N, can we talk?” Kise said.

Hearing his voice immediately made you turn on your heel and attempt to walk away as fast as you could. It was no use though, Kise quickly caught up to you and stopped you my grabbing onto your wrist.

“What the hell do you want?” You snapped.

“I wanted to say that I was sorry for using you like that,” Kise replied, pushing away his pride.

“What do you want me to say? That it’s okay that you wasted my time?” You retorted, trying to wiggle your wrist away from Kise’s hold.

“I genuinely am sorry. Something about you made it so that you never left my mind and now I’m trying to change, I just don’t know where to start,” Kise explained. “How do I get you to forgive me?”

“You can’t. Just leave me alone, why don’t you?” You said, finally breaking away from his grasp and walking away before he could bring you to tears again.

Kise ran after you once more. “Y/N, please. I really like you. I want to date you— for real this time,” he pleaded.

You finally stopped in your tracks. You stared at him with the coldest expression your face had ever worn. “Are you insane? What kind of desperate idiot do you take me to be to think that I’d agree to going out with you again?” you said, raising your voice.

“I don’t know what more I can say except that I’m sorry about before. I genuinely do like you, Y/N. I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since we broke up. Ask any girl I’ve dated and I can assure you that I’ve never backtracked like this before,” Kise said, noticing tears of frustration beginning to well up in your eyes.

If you were being honest, you really wanted to believe that he liked you. The time you spent together wouldn’t have felt like a waste if that were the case. However it still hurt. And you didn’t want to be hurt like that again. “I don’t know, Kise. How can I be sure that you’re not lying to me again?” You said.

“I can’t promise that I won’t hurt you again, but I can promise that I won’t lie. If I lie, I’ll buy you as many milkshakes as you want to throw at me— you can hold me to that.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of his promise, putting a smile on Kise’s face as well. You took a moment to think about it before finally letting out a sigh, “Fine, I’ll give you another shot. But one lie and you’re buying me ten milkshakes to throw at you,” you warned.

Kise’s heart filled with glee. He couldn’t remember the last time someone made him feel like this. He was so elated that he nearly started skipping down the pavement. “Oh my god thank you,” he said, pulling you into the tightest hug ever. “I’ll treat you right this time, Y/N-cchi.”