#and then they send you the fucking deer who has been crashing there for a while

[clegfly]

I have absolutely nothing to say In addition to this. I just think you should see this image

OH MY GODDD THIS IS SO MARZE. WAIT I NEED TO DRAW THIS AS HIM AT SOME POINT. OH MY GOD

[semimedieval]

FUCK ITTTT I am going to advance the recap train whcih is probably the least useful thing i could be doing but ummm. i wanna. the charliening part one: he's such a kyoya

this blog has actual followers now, even though it's just a few, but if somoene happens to catch this post they should not expect it to be comprehensible without context, it is peak diarymoding. highly frivolous, brain candy for me, useless for others. not a place of honor etc.

in this installment of our source material we are introduced to china gloin, one of the worst-named characters in a story full of people with very bizarre names. While the gang has been experiencing a Monoceros Arrest That Will Not Matter, china and (sigh) charley, charlie's brother are on a journey. also, we have burgers now. yay burgers.

China skipped with Charley behind her, "Hmmm. Charlie's Burgers? It's new, he's around here! Come on Charley" She stopped and dropped to the ground, examining the dirt "Is this his?" she pointed to Obsidian's foot-print (... Forgive me.) Charley shrugged "Look's like it... Now get up, you have dirt all over you." China crept through the trees like a deer hunting that green piece of grass, like a snake about to nom on a mouse eating a mushroom, like Miyong-Yi after a cupcake.

Cannot help but laugh at that last sentence. 12 year olds when they learned what a simile was literally last year. We get a full immersion here into fall 2012 - everyone is watching precisely the type of anime that is popular among suburban teenagers in fall 2012, and integrating cues from it into their stories, which means characters are... not exactly acting Less Like Real People, since that bar was always pretty low, but somehow finding new and exciting ways to Not Act Like Real People. With this set-up established (a girl who's crazy, and a boy who keeps her in line by being not crazy! groundbreaking stuff), we get to the payoff:

Suddenly China crashed through the trees tackling Obsidian "CHAAAAAAAARLLLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" They fell backward onto the ground, and he found herself looking into the eyes of a strange girl whose facial expression screamed 'as overexcited as a middle-school PE teacher'. she grunted "What are YOU?" she got off him and Charley walked through the trees, adjusting his glasses "China. We have the wrong one."

Young Katia is not to be outdone with the metaphors, it's worth noting. Also, in a perfect world, you wouldn't be able to just put 'megane' down on a character sheet and call it a day. We do not live in a perfect world. Anyway, China recovers from her shock pretty fast and gets back down to business, by which I mean 'investigating.' And yes, the simile train does not stop going.

Obsidian's eyes were as big as saucers. "T-the wrong what?" "Say!" She leaned towards obsidian "Have you heard of Charlie? One with dark flowy hair and runs cupcake shops?" Quartz jumped in before Obsidian could say a thing. "Oh, yes! Your brother, isn't he? He's not far from here, and madly in love with my best friend Spark, he keeps on sending her --"

Quartz acts to move the plot here, which I more or less respect, even though I think it would honestly be probably more in-character for Obsidian than Quartz to misunderstand this. A more experienced writer would have – okay, well, a more experienced writer wouldn't have done any of this in the first place. But a more experienced writer who's deeply committed to stupid ass premises would have found a more subtle way to get this across.

Making these kinds of distinctions is kind of small potatoes, but this whole plot line is sort of a complete nothingburger aside from its value as a study in roleplays that are falling apart. Anyway, Quartz apologizes, and Charley hits on her for god knows what reason. This exchange is notable for further establishing that, god bless her, quartz is gay as hell. Also charley is a creep so there's that. But it doesn't negate the fact that Quartz is gay as hell.

Charley looked at Quartz "It's okay, mistakes are made."(He's such a Kyoya) "I...honestly thought they were related." "Mam,"He took Quartz hand "Again. Even for pretty girls like you, people make mistakes." "Oh, I see now! YOU'RE related to Charlie!" "... Now what gives you that idea, hmm?" He smiled "Such a smart lady." Charley softly fingered a strand of her hair (WTF) "The flirtatious attitude." He frowned and stepped back "Well, sharp tongue?"

We know he's such a Kyoya, Augustine, that is kind of the entire purpose and mission of his character. He is also being a creep, but – in standard Charlie/Charley family fashion of avoiding consequences – that doesn't stop him and China from landing an invitation to the gang's house. Obsidian freaks out about the concept of China coming over in an unnecessarily funny gesture, Charley calls Chuji "princess," Obsidian "gives a loud, false cough" in response. Quartz points out the goofiness of China's name, thus formally establishing the fact that China-the-country does in fact exist by that name in the Extranei universe. Business as usual.

As if the relationship dynamics of this arc were not anarchic enough already, China hits on Obsidian, which Quartz takes even more issue with than Charley hitting on her. Quartz grabs China's shoulders in response to the suggestion that Obsidian and Chuji might break up (completely true fact, believable outrage from fifteen-year-old Quartz that someone could point this out), and we get THE MAGIC REVEAL:

Quartz's back straightened and she grabbed China's shoulders, her eyes burning. "Don't. Even. Think. About. It." China stared into her eyes "Please, let go. I don't want to hurt you." "It's not me I'm concerned about," she muttered contemptuously. Fear flew into her eyes and lightning exploded from her hands sending herself and Quartz flying backwards. "Quartz! China! Stop!" Obsidian yelled. Quartz got up, shaking from the shock. "Uh... sorry 'bout that?" "I'm SO SO SO SORRY! It's all my fault! You see, something triggers my lightning! And- Ohmigod! Are you okay?!" China rushed to her.

I love that it takes someone else physically hurting her for Quartz to apologize for being kind of out of line about her interactions with a stranger. World's most insane girl. Charley hits her with a "Princess. You're hurt." which does not help matters at all. Also, we learn that Rim has been here the whole time! Here to remind us that he is a kid genius who doesn't do feelings (liar), and to offer some fairly practical advice:

Rim watched with amusement and slight confusement. He had gone through high school when he was eight nine and ten, so romance tended to be a wired pointless kind of book in his opinion. "I agree," He said stepping forward, "Charlie doesn't live with us but he seems to follow Spark a lot, so it shouldn't take you guys long to find him." China's eyes widened "Spark is her name, HUH?! I WILL CRUSH HER! CHARLIE IS MIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!" she started running around "I'LL KILL THEM BOTH!" she also beat the ground with a stick and other stuff like that. Quartz looked at Rim and shrugged.

Deeply confused by the fact that China playfully suggesting that Jasper's cute prompted physical attack while her (sighs deeply and with immense regret) c list yandere ways only prompt Quartz to go "haha, women, right?" Metatextually I think the easiest explanation for this is that Moopy/Rim's presence has embarrassed me, and by extension Quartz, into trying to be cool about it instead of adding to the drama.

Anyway, they return to the cave, there's some onion ring-ass dialogue where China meets Lupus and Ky, China introduces herself as Charlie's girlfriend and Charley follows it up with a confusing 'not really.' And then Spark shows up! Oh no!

I'm going to honor the story-structure of this lame-ass plot by inserting a break between posts here. Cliffhanger style. But I'm certainly not going to be happy about it.

[fragilecapric0rnn]

made this playlist for my friend @cheatghost's BEAUTIFULLY wonderful fic show me the place where he inserted the blade. i put a lot of thought into the playlist and was talked into doing an analysis. I will be diving into each part of the fic by going over how and why the songs i chose for each section relate to the themes and events that take place. each part will have it's own post.

here is Part IV. Hope

IV. Hope

There's a tone shift with this part, that begins right as the Searching portion comes to a close. Sure, the desperate optimism in Steve remains, it hasn't left, but there's something different in the air, something different about the trip, there's something hopeful lingering about, even if he's the only one who feels it, and then BOOM! He sees the rings. The flare has been detected, hope is here, and it's explicit!

The songs I chose for this section reflect that hope. I would argue that the hope lingers even past the moment when they reunite. The hope doesn't immediately turn into home. Steve just spend over a decade in his search for Eddie, he's not going to foolishly relinquish his hope when they reunite, he's waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under him. But it's not.

I. Light and Love by The Lemon Twigs

This song is pivotal to the fic, as the chapter titles are from this song and, after listening and reading, it is clear that it was used for inspiration. To me, it is the perfect start to this part of the story, as the tone of the song reflects the tonal change of the story. The intro of the song, that first minute feels like the clouds separating as light pierces through moment that Steve feels after he sees the rings on the magazine.

You're my deer inside the headlights When I'm swerving and crash into a tree

The deer in the headlights moment as MW plays on the radio is such a beautiful scene, especially since the "big brown eyes like a deer" was his descriptor for Eddie throughout his search. The letter. Where he recounts the scene. This song is just the beginning of hope!

II. Our Day Will Come by Amy Winehouse

The optimism is different this time. The hope is different, sure he's cautious, but there is this sureness that wasn't there before. Every instance of his caution feels like a reflex, to protect his heart, to protect himself from the disappointment that he's become too familiar with.

No lyrics to pull from this one, the vibes just seemed to fit perfectly!

III. I’ll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday 

Another oldie full of longing, but also full of hope.

I'll find you in the morning sun And when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon But I'll be seeing you

I think this song compliments the scene where Steve buys the ticket to the show -

Don’t Forget Me. Same red letters, slightly faded with time. Don’t Forget Me.

He's waiting, what we come to find out, for the last time. The fear transforms a bit in this scene, he's scared that Eddie has forgotten about him. This means that he's started to convince himself in a way that this IS it. He is about to see Eddie, after years and years. We also know, based on the glimpses into Eddie's world, that is not true AT ALL. They are still looking up the same stars. Eddie is putting all of his eggs in the basket that is the Phoenix show - he will be seeing him.

IV. Never Let Me Go by Florence + The Machine

This song feels exactly like the moment for Steve. The moment - It's him. It's him. It's him. The emotional build up of this song, the powerful lyrics, the singing, the way it feels like a wave crashing is EXACTLY how it feels to read this entire part. The slow start, the way it feels like Steve is moving and reacting in slow motion and fast at the same time, how he is pushing his way closer and then -

And the arms of the ocean are carrying me And all this devotion was rushing out of me

Eddie stopping the music, jumping off of the stage, grabbing him - even if the suits showing up scares the fuck out of Steve, sending him right back to 1987. But it's 1998. "It’s 1998. Eddie gets out of their hold. He moves until they lose their grasp over him and he runs back off the stage, past the guards, towards the railing." He grabs him and he's not letting go. It's different now, he's worked for this, this is the moment. "He digs his fingers deeply into his skin and he knows it might bruise, but he can’t let go, won’t let go, won’t lose him again, not again, not again , not again" Not again.

The moment he realizes it's not going to happen again, when Locke says "'Then I’ll see you in October,' she answers, like it’s the simplest thing in the world." And it's finally over.

And it's over (never let me go, never let me go) And I'm going under (never let me go, never let me go) But I'm not giving up (never let me go, never let me go) I'm just giving in (never let me go, never let me go)

V. Hello Stranger by Barbara Lewis

This song, in general, puts me in the most feelings of feelings. It's about old lovers reconnecting, it's about lovers lost and found again. It's them. I decided to end this part with this song because it is them, but it shows that they can breathe now. Steve talks about the kids and they can breathe. Wayne looks delighted to see him, and they can breathe.

Remember that's the way it used to be Ooh, it seems like a mighty long time

This song is the representation of the last part of this chapter, the two of them picking up where they left off 11 years ago. Lovers lost, but the love stayed put, never lost. They got to bed, breathing for the first time in 11 years. "They have tomorrow."

[existslikepristin]

Yexercise

This was the vote story immediately after Movie Night. Note: image has all three members from the beginning, but it ended up being all Yeri.

Tags: TheLounge, Red Velvet, Yeri, male reader insert, blowjob, titfucking, anal, va--nilla sex, workout sex, exhaustion, kink talk, appearances from Wendy/Seulgi/Irene but JoY hAs A bOyFrIeNd

~~~~~

"Hey, thanks. You don't need to give me the discount though," you say. You put your wallet back in your pocket, pick up the bag of muffins, and take the coffee from the guy across the counter.

"Nonsense! The Lounge wouldn't be so successful without your help. Besides, the profit margin on that stuff is insane."

The two of you chuckle with each other for a moment, and you smell the coffee he practically gave you free. Fresh roasted and ground on location, not too much sugar, and slightly more cream than usual. "Damn, man. This stuff smells like heaven."

"Heaven? Haha! More like Brazil! But speaking of heaven, who's the lucky lady today? You never get more than one muffin on your own."

You shrug. The man knows you, that's for sure. "Well, not a date this time. Wendy asked me to meet her here,"

"Oh, Red Velvet?"

"Yup. I think it's a business thing. I was asking her about song composing but I'm not supposed to tell you she's getting into that."

"Of course." He raises his eyebrows and flattens his mouth. "You know how Mr. SM can be about these things."

That's exactly what SinB and Eunha said and did a couple days ago, and nobody ever explained what they meant. "Actually, I--"

"Ah, there she is! And Seulgi and Yeri too!"

You turn around to see that he is definitely correct. Holding the door open is Wendy, dressed in a blue-and-white-striped sweater that sags off one of her shoulders, baggy blue jeans, and white sneakers. Her light brown hair is draped over one shoulder. Her casual outfit is contrasted by her exceptional, yet minimal make up.

Yeri has already passed her and entered the building. Unlike Wendy, her make up consists of some lazy eyeliner and not much else. Your heart skips a beat when you see her light gray yoga pants are as tight as a second skin, though her pink hoodie hangs just low enough to see any of her ass. She's cut her hair into a short bob again, and dyed it dirty blonde.

Seulgi follows Yeri, and certainly looks the most put-together overall. Her jet black hair is pulled into a ponytail so you can see her glamorous earrings and bright red lips. She's wearing a nearly wrinkleless white dress shirt barely see through enough to show her bra, black business pants, and short black heels.

A shiver crashes down your spine, nearly making you drop your coffee. You're not sure you'll ever get used to seeing all these gorgeous idols in person, and especially not when they're approaching you.

"Hey, sorry we're late," Wendy opens the conversation, "We got held up for a minute."

Yeri smirks. It looks like she's paying more attention to the menu overhead than to any one person. "Held up by some Canadian grandma driving."

Wendy frowns. "It's called a speed limit."

Seulgi gives you a short bow. You do the same back. Finally, a regular greeting. Then again, it makes sense since she's the one you've spent the least amount of time with. That's not saying much though, since you haven't had much opportunity to get to know any member of Red Velvet. "Good to see you again," she says formally.

"Oh shut up Sluggo, you know why we're here." Yeri points up at the menu. "I'll take the mocha--"

"What she means is... Well, can we talk?" Wendy asks, looking more than a little flustered.

"Yeah, totally. I got some muffins for us to share, but I thought it was just going to be the two of--"

"Fuck yeah, bro! Thanks!" Yeri snatches the muffin bag out of your hand and has one halfway in her mouth before you can protest.

Wendy sighs. "Let's sit down, shall we?"

Getting a table with room for four is a simple matter. Seulgi sits opposite from you, Yeri next to her, and Wendy next to you.

Yeri's busy eating both of the muffins you bought, which may be the only reason Wendy is able to finish her thoughts. "So, we don't have a whole lot of time. We're actually-- well, two of us are going to a gig in like fifteen minutes, but you know we're really busy. I mean, of course, you know us, and we've got a thing in fifteen-- Ugh. I'm sorry, I'm so bad at this. How's your day been?"

Normally in all of your previous conversations, short as they have been, you've noticed that Wendy is generally much more confident than this. "Um, pretty good. It's still early though. Just got here myself, so I haven't had time to do much today."

"Oh geez, that's right. I'm sorry, the last few weeks have really just been blending together, you know? So like, you know Yerin right? I mean, of course you know Yerin. So Yerin has been talking to Joy, and you've been brought up in that, and so we know a little bit about you."

You chuckle and scratch the back of your neck. "Ah, crap. If Yerin's been talking about me, I can only imagine the kinds of things she's said." Obviously, your history with Yerin and her perverted attitude can mean one thing.

Seulgi blushes. "Y-yeah. Is it okay that we're talking to you about this?"

"I mean, we haven't really talked about anything specific yet."

"They mean sex." Yeri blurts out, slightly muffled by muffin.

You laugh. Thinking back on Wendy's texts and her vague word choices, you figured she had a serious question for you, but you still can't figure out what it is she wanted to talk to you about. It's a little awkward that she brought two of her group members with her if she's looking for advice, too. "I kind of figured that's what it was about. But hell yeah, I'm an open book. What's on your mind?"

Wendy lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh my gosh, thank you. I thought I was going to die from my own awkwardness there."

She pauses as a barista walks over with Yeri's drink. You make note of the way, out of the corner of her eye, Yeri watches the barista's ass as she walks away.

Wendy continues with a bright smile that you're a little more used to seeing, "So uh, the three of us are currently looking for something, and wanted to know what your rates are."

You hesitate, piecing together what Wendy just said with the fact that the conversation has been defined as one about sex. "Has Yerin been... saying I'm a prostitute?"

Suddenly, it feels like you're in a pressure cooker. Silence grips the table as the tension rises. Wendy stares at you like a deer in the headlights, her eyes widening slowly and her smile fading.

The sound of the steamer behind the store's counter sets off a chain reaction of noise.

"OH MY GOD," Wendy shouts, "I AM SO SORRY!"

Yeri slaps the table and bursts into laughter, sending crumbs of muffin everywhere. Seulgi is glowing red, shaking all over, and looking frantically between you, Wendy, and the mess Yeri is making.

"I DIDN'T MEAN-- OH GOD--" Wendy grabs your arm with both hands, crushing down as if she's afraid you're about to leave. She lowers her voice to a hushed tone, but speaks at the speed of a runaway train, "I'm so sorry I didn't mean anything by it I supp-- We all support the sex work industry and I'm sorry I didn't me--"

The other two have effectively disappeared. Seulgi, with her arms covering her face and crouched low in her chair. Yeri has fallen to the floor, truly making the scene worse with how hard she's laughing and gasping for air.

For as mildly insulted as you feel, you aren't very surprised, considering Yerin's habit of using insults and crude words as terms of endearment. You smirk and put a hand on Wendy's shoulder. You try to calm her down, but are slightly afraid she won't hear you through her rambling, "Hey, hey. You're good. I'm not a prostitute, but it's fine."

Wendy slows down, but appears to be on the verge of hyperventilation. "I can't believe this. I shouldn't have assumed. Oh god. I am such a dumbass."

You get out of your chair and wrap your arms around her. She immediately shuts up, face melting into your chest. "You're good, Wendy. Honestly, that's hilarious more than anything."

Yeri is calming down a little as well, with the aid of Seulgi furiously brushing away the streaks of black makeup running off of her eyes. Even so, she can barely manage to get back into her chair, still having giggle fits and clutching at her stomach.

"I might not be one, but I think I can help you out anyway. What exactly are you looking for?" You let go of Wendy and watch her dab at a few tears that started with a napkin.

"No, no. I don't think I can say after all that. I am... so embarrassed right now."

Still fighting to catch her breath, Yeri chimes in, "We're too busy to find dick so she tried to find a way to schedule it. Holy shit, 'Sup? How's your day? How much do you charge for a good time, ho?' Right? Wow, Wendy."

"Yeri! That's not what she said!" Seulgi slaps at Yeri's arm and nervously looks around for anyone who might still be watching.

"Might as well have been! This is the best!"

You can't help but chuckle along with Yeri. You stare in her direction, hoping to get her attention with your next sentence, "You don't have to pay to fuck me."

That shuts Yeri up. She stares back. "Woah, you serious?"

You sit back down and glance at Wendy and Seulgi. They're staring too.

"Yeah, why not? Sounds like fun. Hell, I'd go for it right now, but you've got a gig to get to, right?"

Seulgi shakily raises a hand as if she's asking permission to speak. "O-only two of us are going to that."

Underneath the table, you feel someone's foot sliding up and down your leg. You have no doubt it's Yeri's, as she speaks up again, "Why don't you guess which one of us isn't busy today?"

Yeah. Why don't you?

Options for Part 1 [IMPORTANT (duh)]: 1. (Picked:) Is it Yeri? It seems too obvious, given how eager she obviously is. But she could be straight up trolling you. That seems like something she'd do. If it's her, you imagine you'll end up exhausted soon. She seems to have a LOT of energy to burn.

2. Is it Wendy? She's the one who organized this meetup after all. Maybe she'll ask you to come along as she drops the other members off at their gig. If she's the one, you can guess you'll have a very nice, sweet time. She's got those wifey vibes.

3. Is it Seulgi? She's been very quiet this whole time. She definitely took the time to dress to impress today. Maybe it's you she means to impress. If you're spending the day with her, you have no clue what to expect. You've got to watch out for the quiet ones...

~~~~~

You look underneath the table and see it is, in fact, Yeri who is stroking your leg with her foot. Her running shoes aren't exactly making it comfortable or sexy.

"I'm going to guess it's you."

"Sure is, babe." Yeri winks. Wendy and Seulgi both groan in unison. Yeri doesn't seem to mind them at all.

"So," Wendy says slowly, "you really meant that about having sex with us? I don't want to pressure you."

You look across the table and see Seulgi biting her lip, not in an intentionally sexy way, but maybe nervously?

"Yup. I'm not free literally all the time, so we might have to actually schedule it, which definitely feels weird, but I'm up for it."

Wendy grins. "Awesome! Thanks! Thanks? Thanks."

"But hey, to be totally clear, why me? You guys know you can have sex with each other, right?"

Seulgi pops in, "We have. It's just... we all want different things that others aren't comfortable with."

"Yeah, getting fucked softly by strapons is boooring," Yeri says. She glares at Wendy.

"H-hey! You know my hip--"

You're about to ask what they all want to do that's so radically different, or why they assume you're okay with all of it, but Wendy's phone alarm goes off.

"Crap. So, can we talk about this later? We have to get to our shoot."

"Totally, sure. Text me when you're off?"

Wendy and Seulgi are already starting to walk away. Yeri has made herself quite comfortable where she is though.

"I'll text you, yeah! Um, are you okay with babysitting that one for a bit?"

Yeri scrunches up her nose. "The fuck, bitch?!"

You laugh. "Yeah, why not?"

Wendy smiles and rushes out the door. Seulgi follows, but only after giving you a polite bow. "See you again soon!"

The busy life of a big three idol, you muse to yourself.

"Hmmm, seems we've got some time to kill, huh?" Yeri leans forward on the table, squeezing her tits through her bulky sweatshirt.

"Guess we do. I have one formal request to have sex with you and another to babysit you. Bit unusual."

Yeri groans. "Yeah fuck that. You realize I'm well into my twenties right? I want your cock, not a bedtime story."

You decide against telling her about the stories you swapped with SinB just a couple nights ago. "Couldn't put you to bed if I wanted to with that extra large mocha you've got there," you say instead.

“You could put me in a bed.”

“Snappy one. I like it.”

Yeri smirks and takes a sip of her coffee. “I don’t mean right now though. I’ve got something in mind already.”

“You mean what you were going to pay me to do?”

“Sure was, ho. Why? You still want the money?”

You sigh. “Well I’m really not in the business. So if you really want to spend something on me, maybe get me some breakfast? You ate mine.”

“You can eat me.”

After you give her a brief, unamused look, she relents. “Okay. Okay. What do you want? You can eat it on the way.”

“I see you like to make assumptions. And I’ll take a smoked salmon bagel.”

“I’m used to my assumptions being met. And I didn’t know they made those here.”

“Do you assume you’re going to get your way today? And they’re delicious.”

“Maybe I do assume that. I guess we’ll see. And I’ll have one too.”

Yeri hops off of her seat and goes back to the counter to put in your order. Thanks to the lack of a line or crowd, the bagels are ready by the time you’ve followed her. You open the bag.

“Four? Feeling hungry this morning?”

“Oh I’m starving for dick, but only one of those is for me. The others are for you. You’ll need the energy.”

“Question.” You stop, The Lounge’s front door half open in your hand. “Do you always speak so boldly and then follow it up immediately with something vague?”

She smirks and you watch as one of her hands slides around your waist and traces your butt before giving it a tight squeeze. She reaches past you with her other hand and pulls the door open the rest of the way so she can step outside, slowly twirling around you. “No,” she says, “Sometimes, I don’t speak.”

Smooth, you think.

The walk to wherever Yeri is taking you is a pleasant one. She takes your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. She walks in sync with you. She makes easy conversation about work, food, and ideal local vacation spots. She nibbles on her bagel slowly enough that she finishes right about when you finish all three of yours. You almost forget that less than an hour ago she was making lewd comments about hiring you for sex, and that she is currently taking you to a location where she intends to fuck you.

It’s not long before you reach a building that she pulls you into, swiping a key card to open the door. The inside isn’t particularly remarkable, and you don’t see any signs anywhere that would reveal the building’s purpose. Three flights of stairs going up and one more key card swipe through a door, and you find yourself in a small gym.

One wall is effectively a single giant mirror like a dance studio would have, and there’s a variety of equipment you recognize as being for pilates as well as weight training and a treadmill. The floor is ever so slightly spongy-soft, it’s well lit when she flips on the lights, there’s a large potted fern in one corner with a small stereo next to it, and it’s otherwise undecorated. It smells like sweat.

“Personal, private gym?” you ask.

“Personal, private gym,” Yeri says. She drops her purse and kicks off her shoes next to the door, motioning for you to do the same.

“Not that I’m complaining, but couldn’t we have used a room at The Lounge, or your place, or mine?”

“Maybe. But I’m comfortable here. And there aren’t any company bitches here to get on my case for getting our freak on.”

Yeri walks into the middle of the room and pulls her hoodie over her head. It turns out she was only wearing a purple sports bra underneath.

Although she is still fully dressed as far as modern societal standards are concerned, you find yourself staring at her incredibly sexy body as if it’s totally exposed. Her leggings are exactly as skin-tight as you were hoping, practically revealing her firm ass. If she’s even wearing anything underneath them, you can’t tell. But as she lifts her arms above her head to toss her hoodie behind her and to stretch, it’s her mostly bare back and the toned muscle running up and down either side of her spine that catches you off guard. You can’t take your eyes away. She looks at you in the mirror and catches you staring.

“I’m glad you like,” she says, putting one finger between her teeth in the corner of her mouth and giving you a sultry look you didn’t think she was capable of. She twists to look at you over her shoulder. “Your turn.”

You remove your jacket and pull your shirt off. While it’s over your eyes, you hear padding footsteps coming your way, followed by a body being pressed up against yours. By the time your shirt is totally off, her hands are sliding up your back. This is one seriously forward idol you’re dealing with.

“So here we are. I picked the location. What’s next?” Yeri asks, “I’ve got a naughty thought or two, but maybe you have an idea you want to surprise me with.”

Options for Part 2:

1. No surprise, nothing fancy. Just get naked and get started. 2. There must be a shower in this building if it contains gyms. Ask her to take you there and you can get her wet all over. 3. (Picked:) Yeri was literally going to hire you for this, and “naughty thoughts” sound fun. Ask her what those are all about.

~~~~~

“Naughty thoughts huh? Why don’t you tell me about those?”

Yeri grimaces and looks off to the side. “Uh...”

“Uh…” You look down at her, confused. “What? What.”

“I was, you know.”

You hesitate…

“No! I don’t know! What?!”

“Like, I was expecting you to just rip off my bra or pants and go to town, you know?”

“But you said you have naughty thoughts. Why wouldn’t I ask about those?”

“I don’t know! I was counting on you not asking about them!”

You rub your eyes. You’re about to ask why she would bother bringing up the option if she was going to make such a big deal out of it, but she speaks first.

“I want to get fucked while I’m working out.”

“That’s it?” you ask after a moment of hesitation.

“It’s not all I want to do.”

“Well, care to share with the rest of the class? Or are you too embarrassed about having really normal-sounding kinks?”

Yeri shoves you back and takes a few steps toward the pilates equipment. “Are we doing this or not?”

“I’m all for it.”

She grabs the sides of her bra and with no small amount of difficulty pulls it off over her head. You easily forget about the awkwardness as you watch her breasts squeeze out slowly and eventually drop the rest of the way.

Yeri's breasts live up to the hype. When she beckons you over to her (in the same way you would beckon for a dog, annoyingly), you realize your opportunity to touch them for yourself is at hand. Literally.

You grab her by the shoulders first though, spinning her around so she's facing the pilates bench and the mirror. You wrap your arms under hers to feel her tits from behind. They're more than your hands can take in a single grasp. But you're not in this for speed. You bend down to kiss her neck, which gets a satisfied growl from her.

"Bite me," she says. It's not a softly spoken statement, and it's right next to your ear thanks to your positioning, so you're stunned for about half a second.

You do as she demands, taking a small bit of her neck between your teeth and sucking. If she wants hickeys you won't argue.

You're rewarded with a smack on the top of the head. Confused with her behavior again, you pull away.

"I didn't say nibble. I said bite."

"Oh. Uh, sure."

"Like, draw blood."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah! Like, if you're gonna bite, it's gotta be hard! Really get your canine teeth in there, right? Just fucking give it to me."

You stare at her for a moment. "Let's, um, start with the exercise thing first, yeah?"

Seeming suddenly confident again, Yeri hops onto the pilates bench and flips herself upside-down using the bars. She stretches herself out into a position you imagine can't be easy to hold for long. "Sure, if you can reach me."

You squint at her for just a second. She's switching between embarrassment and confidence so fast you can't figure out what's really going on. But at least right now, she seems fine.

Standing up on the bench, you find you’re at nearly the perfect height to put your face between her legs. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do. You grab the waistband of her leggings and pull them down to her knees. Underneath, absolutely nothing. No underwear, no hair. Just a completely bare pussy and smooth ass tensed with the effort of holding her body weight in an upward arch.

It’s a tight fit getting your head between her legs, given that she doesn’t have a lot of space to spread them apart. The reward is worth the trouble.

You flatten your tongue against her pussy to give it a full, long lick. She responds with a long, breathy moan. And since she gives you no reason to stop, you do it again, and again, and again. Each time, Yeri shivers just a little bit, making it obvious how much she’s enjoying herself.

Hands on either side of her hips, just touching for the sake of touching and not holding her up, you close your eyes and focus on your work. Not work. You’re not getting paid for this. Stop thinking about that.

She’s got a mellow taste as far as you can tell. It’s got the tang you would expect, but it’s maybe a little musky. You don’t try to distract yourself, but trying to figure out how Yeri tastes the same way men’s cologne smells is really messing with your head.

It’s when her hips suddenly drop away from your hands that you realize she has been holding herself in place for several minutes. She’s breathing heavily and she doesn’t fall only because her leggings are caught on your shoulders. She doesn’t seem seriously exhausted or anything though. Maybe this was just the first rep.

“Tired?” you ask anyway.

“I also want to try pet play.”

You stare down at Yeri. You’re sure you heard the words that came out of her mouth correctly, but they weren’t the answer to your question. “So… hang on. Back up. What?”

“You know. Meow.” Holding herself up with one hand, she uses the other to make the classic neko paw.

You tilt your head and rub your temples. “Alright. Um, I think we should probably work out what’s really happening here. You gave me a lot to work with.”

Yeri hoists her legs back over your head and stands on the bench again, kicking her leggings off the rest of the way. “Yeah! What do you think? Those are my ideas!”

“They are varied.”

“Is that good or bad?” Suddenly Yeri looks embarrassed again.

“No! They’re good! I’m not here to kink shame you. I don’t know if I’m really into all of that, or if they can all be incorporated into a single session, but I’m totally up for some of it.”

Session? This isn’t an appointment, and this isn’t my job! you think, furiously. You’re suddenly worried if every minor reference to work or professionalism is going to sound like it’s connected to sex from now on.

Yeri smirks, “Oh, okay. That’s fair. Anything sounds good! What do you want to do… with me?” She punctuates the last two words by grabbing her tits and winking at you.

Deadline for this vote is 12/20 at 12:00 UTC! No guarantees on how fast Part 4 will come out, but work should slow down soon, and it’s not like I’ll be going anywhere for a holiday because of this virus, so you can probably expect Part 5 and maybe also another short over that weekend! Options for Part 3: 1. (Picked:) Workout sex sounds like it will wear you out, but getting sweaty with a partner has never been a problem before! 2. Pet play? What was that meow about?! Maybe you want her to play a cat, or you can convince her she'd be something else? 3. Oh fuck, right. Yeri likes vampires. Bite her. [Warning for blood stuff, though not super gory or anything Red Flavor joke]

~~~~~

“Tell me more about this workout sex,” you say. To avoid letting the mood die down any more than your confusion already might have you inch forward, one hand on Yeri’s breast, the other wrapping around the small of her back. You pull her in closer toward you and put your mouth to hers.

Yeri hums into your kiss. She takes a moment to enjoy it before she pulls back. “It’s exactly what it sounds like, like what I said.” She comes in for a couple more small kisses and continues, “I work out. While I do that, you fuck me.”

You bring her back into the kiss, keeping it chaste for now. At least, as chaste as you can get while you’re more than half naked and she’s completely naked and you’re discussing exactly how you’re about to bang.

“I can start over there and bench while I suck your cock.”

You moan your agreement into another kiss.

“Then I can do my squats on it while you take your turn benching.”

You moan your “Huh?” into another kiss.

“Then you can do your squats by pile driving me into the floor.”

So it seems she plans on you working out too.

“So? Are we going to do this?” Yeri holds you back.

You take a deep breath. Whatever higher power you believe in has brought you this far. You’re not going to let it down.

“Why don’t you get down there and find out?”

Yeri practically jumps across the room. She grabs a couple of dumbbells and immediately gets into bench press position.

When you walk over, ditching the rest of your clothes on the way, Yeri looks up at you and smirks. She wiggles the weights around and, in a sing-song voice, says, “Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb.”

You stand above her, unsure how to respond.

“Get it? Dumb Dumb? Dumbbells? The weights?”

“Uh, no?”

“What?! That’s like, a classic!”

“Is that one of yours?”

“Yes! You haven’t heard it?!”

“You just called your own song a classic.”

Yeri rolls her eyes. “Not classic as in old. As in-- I’m about to suck your dick, so laugh at my jokes.”

That makes you actually snort back a laugh. “Okay, I guess I get it now.”

She smiles and hangs her head off the edge of the bench. You make your way next to her head and she licks her lip at the sight of your dick at nearly her eye level.

“Just don’t go too hard okay? I’ve got a gag reflex.”

You crouch just enough so that your dick touches her lips, which she happily opens. The moment her tongue reaches out and touches you, you feel a bit weak in the knees. How you’re going to keep this up and also do real exercise, you have no idea.

Yeri cautiously starts pumping her weights up and down at her sides. You take the same slow pace with moving back and forth. After the mention of her gag reflex you don’t dare thrust for real, keeping it to an inch or so at a time. Yeri more than makes up for the lack of depth with her tongue though, twirling and curling it around randomly.

Thankfully there’s a bar across the bench that you can lean on to prevent a total collapse. Just beneath your head, you watch as Yeri’s chest and arms flex to push the weights up, then relax and spread out as she lowers them. The steady motion, the subtle definition of her body, and her heavy tits are a sight to behold, and so behold it all you do.

Yeri’s tongue sweeps across the bottom of your dick, and you feel a burning desire to be deeper inside of her. You decide to try your luck and push forward a bit farther. She doesn’t so much as lose the tempo in her lifting, so you go farther. Too much more and you’re sure you’re going to hurt her, but her legs are spread to either side of the bench, leaving something else open that you could probably get much deeper in.

You’re suddenly jolted back to awareness by the sound of weights slamming to the floor. Yeri grabs your hips and holds you tightly in place. You think she may have forgotten about the exercise after all with how intensely she’s sucking. But then, she pushes you away and gasps for air.

“That’s one set down!” She grins up at you and strokes your dick.

“Isn’t it bad etiquette to drop your weights like that?”

“Personal, private gym, remember? My gym, my rules.”

“Well not to break your rules, but I want to try something else in your next set.”

“Why? Didn’t you like that?”

“Oh I did, but that’s just the problem. You’ve got me worked up now, and I’m having a hard time holding back.”

Yeri gulps, and you see her whole body shiver. “I-I mean, I’ll try.” She picks her dumbbells off the floor and lays back again, sticking her tongue out and opening her mouth wide.

“I didn’t mean deepthroat! I just meant I wanted to fuck your pussy.”

You aren’t sure if Yeri’s sigh is one of disappointment or relief. “Ah, I see. Well by all means go for it!”

She scoots herself down the bench so her head isn’t hanging off and starts her next set. You walk around her slowly, just taking in the sight, admiring her again. She’s clearly used to the exercise, because her skin is just barely starting to show a few dots of sweat.

Once you’re between her legs, it’s a simple matter to crouch again just a little to maintain the correct height. You couldn’t see it from your previous angle, but Yeri is soaking wet. It’s only been a few minutes really, but already there’s a puddle underneath her. You mentally give yourself a pat on the back for contributing to that.

Yeri’s entrance is tight, but pushing into her is smooth sailing with how much natural lube she’s producing. Every time she lifts her weights, her muscles tense and she subtly clenches down around you. You might have thought this was a weird concept to begin with, but you’re definitely on board now. Not quite in time with her lifts, you thrust in and out. Looking down, you can see her toes curling. She’s clearly putting in a lot of effort not to squirm out of position.

“Seems like you’re having fun, huh?”

You don’t get an answer. You’re slightly annoyed that she seems to be ignoring you, but you realize she’s probably trying to count reps. But it would be fun if you could make her lose track…

You put your hands on either side of the bench and get a good grip, preparing to turn into a fucking machine.

Unfortunately, you’re the one who gets a surprise when Yeri drops her weights again. Her head shoots up to yours for a needy, open-mouthed kiss. Her damp body presses against yours.

“This is...” she says between the moments she has her tongue in your mouth, “so much better… than trying it… with a dildo!”

You try to push Yeri away so you can get a word in, but her arms and legs are both clamped around you. You give in and lower her down so she’s on her back again, putting you right where you need to be so you can roll your hips.

Yeri squeals and her grip on you gets even tighter. “More!” she shouts when she pulls away for a half a second.

You strain to get your hands under her arms and break out of her grasp. Her nails rake across your back quite painfully as you do, but you manage to pin her arms to her sides. She glares up at you, biting her lip and giggling.

“More?” she asks this time.

“Don’t you have one more set to do? Isn’t three sets a thing?”

Yeri scowls. “I changed my mind. It’s your turn to bench. I need to do my squats right now.”

You roll your hips again. You watch, amused, as Yeri’s fingers clench at the air over and over again. You’re a little worried about what might happen when you let her go, considering she seemed to have some kind of blood fetish. But then again, she might just not be trying all that hard to get away. She’s the one with a fairly athletic career and a workout plan after all.

Even so, you can’t help but tease her with another roll of your hips. You have difficulty finding your own words with how good she feels, tight around your cock. “It was your idea to get fucked while you worked out. I’m just holding you to your word, you know.”

A sly smile curls across Yeri’s face, though it trembles when you grind into her again. “I’m keeping my word! I normally only do two sets at a time!”

“I’m not so sure I believe that.” Her legs let up a bit, so you use the leeway to get in a short thrust.

“You calling me a liar?”

“Of course not. Why would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t call me a liar you get to pick what hole I fuck you with while you’re benching.”

She makes a valid argument.

Deadline for this vote will be 12/26 at 6:00 UTC (just in case some of you will be too busy the day before with holiday stuff) Options for Part 4: 1. No complaints from you if she continues with her pussy! 2. Then again, you’ve got a thing for anal, and she’s offering. 3. She could give you a blowjob. It seems like she wants the practice. 4. (Picked:) But also… Yeri is the first person in one of these stories with big enough boobs for a titfuck.

~~~~~

“Well since you’re definitely done with your sets, and since you’re not lying, you wouldn’t mind titfucking me?”

A few quiet moments go by. Yeri puts a hand on her chin, looking down between your bodies, then to her boobs, then at the dumbells on either side of her. She reaches down to grab the weights again.

“There’s lube in my bag. Grab that first.”

You smile and pull out of her pussy, which makes both of you take a sharp breath at the same time. “Doing more benches huh?”

“Well obviously. This is workout sex. I can’t give you a tit job while I’m squatting, so the best solution is for me to focus extra hard on my arms - which is definitely more than I normally do - so you can stand over me.”

Her bluff is pretty obvious, but it’s amusing, and you’re still getting what you asked for so you’re not going to push your luck by calling her out. This is something you’ve been trying to convince Yerin to try for a while, but she’s brushed it off every time. So if you aren’t getting a boob job here, you’re not sure when or even if you’ll have the chance again.

The lube you find in Yeri’s bag is vanilla scented. While you take a moment to enjoy the smell, Yeri lies down and starts another set with her six kilo weights.

You move to stand over her chest and enjoy watching her muscles work again from a different angle. This time you watch her breasts in particular, putting a hand down to lightly cup one and brush your thumb over her nipple. Much like before, Yeri’s focus on her workout is uncanny. You can’t get her to break, so you decide to help yourself.

You pour a generous amount of the lube into Yeri’s cleavage, smearing it all over. Your dick is still wet from her pussy, but this stuff will certainly last longer. The pleasant smell and the sight of her wet breasts turn on your instincts again. You lower yourself until your dick is resting on her, and you squeeze her tits together.

It’s not nearly as tight as anything else you’ve experienced today, of course, but it’s no less of an incredible feeling. When you start to move back and forth is when you realize how heavenly it is, even if it involves some extra effort. As you slide through Yeri’s cleavage, you notice the tiniest glance down from her. Is she losing her focus?

You smirk and reposition your hands a bit so you can casually rub her nipples between your fingers. Again, a small glance down. This time, it’s accompanied by the corners of her lips moving up.

“If you’re enjoying this already, wait until your hands are free to help out.”

“Ssshut up.”

Her arms tremble for a second. It would make sense if she’s getting distracted by the fact that she’s working out. But she hasn’t done that much, has she? Six kilos isn’t too crazy for an athletic idol like herself. You take a look over to the side again when her arms come all the way up.

There’s a mostly worn off line right before the six. She’s lifting nearly triple what you thought she was. Suddenly, you find yourself concerned with where they might land if she drops them again, given where your feet are, and you resolve to not distract her anymore.

That doesn’t mean you’re going to stop the titfucking of course.

You shift your feet back a little and have to lean forward, but you manage to get back into rhythm quickly. You slide in time with her lifting. The next time you look at her face, Yeri’s eyes are screwed shut and she’s biting her lip.

You aren’t able to contain a groan, and her eyes snap open and look into yours. She gives you a smile and after one last pump of her weights, she tosses them (thankfully) to the sides. Her hands clasp over the top of yours. Her breaths are labored, but she speaks through them just fine.

“I’m helping now. What am I waiting for?”

You pull one of your hands from under hers. It takes you no time at all to find her clit. Her knees come up to trap your arm there, as if you needed the additional encouragement. You circle it slowly with your fingers.

“Oh, I see now.” Yeri’s voice is quiet and her mouth quivers. She looks down at your cockhead poking out of her cleavage with hunger in her eyes.

You take your other hand away from hers, but only so you can put it back on top, where you guide her into kneading her breasts around your dick. She quickly picks up on the hint and squeezes down. She even takes the initiative and lifts her head to try to lick you as you thrust.

Unfortunately, she can’t quite reach, but you’re not going to let her effort go to waste. You hover your now free hand next to her pouty lips. You quickly go back in your mind to when she was very interested in biting, but you’ve already sealed your fate, and her mouth is wrapped around two of your fingers.

Something about watching her dutifully crushing her tits against your thrusting dick and sweetly sucking on your fingers with her eyes closed sets you off. You barely have the time to say, “I’m cumming.”

In that moment, Yeri’s eyes reopen and catch yours. She makes no move to change what she’s doing. So with one last thrust, you groan in ecstasy and orgasm.

Your cum first hits the bottom of her chin, then lands on her neck, then seeps out onto her chest, directed into different directions by her collarbone. She hardly reacts where you can see it, keeping her eyes locked onto yours and wrapping her tongue around your middle finger.

On the other hand, literally, her legs wrap around your arm and roughly pull your hand until it’s fully connected with her pussy. Your brain is still in a mid-orgasm haze, but it’s easy enough to realize what you’re supposed to be doing. You oblige, dipping two fingers inside her. That gets a happy hum out of Yeri, which you feel directly vibrating up your hand.

After you blink the stars out of your eyes, you look down and see that Yeri is scooping at your cum to bring it to her mouth. She sucks it in without letting go of your fingers. You would protest at the awkwardness of feeling your semen being swirled around your knuckles, but the greediness she displays is way too sexually charged for you to care about things like that anymore.

Eventually, she vacuums all of it down and off your hand, swallows, and releases you. She gives you an expectant look, eyebrows raised and mischievous smile plastered across her face.

You continue to finger her, but her eyes don’t move from yours. “Um. Wow, damn,” you say, not sure what else she wants.

Yeri’s eyebrows go higher. “You’re not going to mention…”

“Your amazing body? Or how hot it is when you’re sweating like that?”

Her smile turns into an absolute shit-eating grin. “Protein shakes are good after exercise!”

You bite your cheek to keep from… laughing? An exasperated sigh? You’re not sure, with how terrible and cliché of a line that would have been.

“Yup. Definitely something like that.”

Yeri giggles and pushes you back so she can sit up. She takes the hand you were fingering her with now. “So you still up for more? Joy says Yerin says you can usually go more than once.”

She starts to lick her juices off of your hand. You can’t help but admire her weird pervertedness.

Deadline for the Part 5 vote will be 1/1 at 12:00 UTC (because I am guaranteed not to work that day!) Options for Part 5: 1. Of course you’re still up for more, as long as you don’t have to deal with more of this workout bullshit! 2. (Picked:) You’ll do more, but only after she does the squats she said she was going to do. She doesn’t get to half ass her workout just because you’re here! 3. Nope. You’re out of here. See you around, sloot! 4. Maybe. But you'd actually like to maybe get to know Yeri a little first? You kind of jumped into this real fast.

~~~~~

“What? You’re already done with your workout? You’ve barely done anything though.”

Yeri gives you a dirty look. “I’d normally do more, duh. But you’re here right now.”

“Yeah, to fuck you while you work out.”

“Yeah, which you did.”

“Did you cum?”

“No, but that’s fine. I got what I wanted.”

“Do you want to?”

Yeri looks over at the squatting rack, chewing her lip. “I wouldn’t mind, but it’s hard to make me cum. And it would be dangerous while I’ve got something really heavy on top of me.”

“Challenge accepted then.”

She raises her eyebrows at you.

“You go hard on the rest of your workout and I’ll do the best I can to make you cum once you’re done.”

Yeri doesn’t say anything. She walks over to the rack though, and leans back against it. She looks you up and down, straight-faced.

“If you don’t cum, it’s not like you’re not getting your money’s worth.”

She still says nothing, her eyes landing on your dick.

“Because you’re not paying me for this. Because I’m not a prostitute…” You shrug, unsure of how to proceed when you’re being stared down naked.

“Let’s do it. I want to see if you can do it.”

“If I can? Well, what is it that makes it so hard to make you cum?”

Yeri bends over to grab some weights to put on the bar. “I dunno. If I knew, I wouldn’t have the problem.”

“You nervous?”

“It’s not like I haven’t had sex before.”

“Uncomfortable maybe?”

“No, I’m fine. A bit restless, but who isn’t?” Yeri stands under the bar, adjusting herself so her back is comfortably in the curve.

“I know a couple other people like that. We’ll do a little bit of experimenting. Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t.”

“Good enough for me.”

“Good enough huh?”

“Yup.”

“Sounds unenthusiastic. You sure you’re up for it?”

“I asked you for another round, remember? I just don’t want you getting your hopes up.”

You laugh. “Everything I could have hoped for is standing in front of me nude and about to do squats.”

Yeri chuckles and picks the bar off the rack. “Greasy.”

You just smile and watch as she does the first squat. It looks effortless. You don’t know enough about form to judge it, but it seems like it’s been practiced for quite some time. It’s smooth on the way down, and smooth on the way up. Graceful, even.

The grace of the action is slightly undercut by the fact that she is of course still naked, a little sweaty, and her chest is completely covered in lube. But that makes it no less attractive to you.

As she does more, you walk around, getting a good view from every angle. The mirror wall ensures that if she wants to, she can see you as well. But she seems focused again, staring herself in the eye.

Her breaths are labored. She inhales deeply as she goes down and exhales loudly as she comes up. Her skin starts to glisten all over as her effort comes out in her sweat. You reach out to touch her, but you suddenly get an idea and step back. Shortly after, she sets the bar back on the rack with a heavy sigh.

“What’s up? You can touch. It’s encouraged.”

You go back to her purse and pull out a water bottle you had seen earlier. “I’m going to hold off on touching you for a minute. I like this. I’m changing the plan. I’m not touching you until I can see how much effort you’re putting into this.”

A smirk creeps up one side of Yeri’s mouth. “You’re on,” she says. She catches the water bottle when you toss to her and takes a swig from it. Then she puts another five kilogram weight on either side of the bar.

As she gets into the next set, you move next to her and sit down on the floor. “Look at these hard-working legs,” you say. She didn’t respond the last time you talked to her, but she can still hear you… you assume. This is mostly just you saying your thoughts out loud, but you hope she’s paying attention.

“Taking on all of this to maintain the look of a perfect idol, but healthy. Damn, I would kill for your dedication.”

Glancing at the mirror you see another tiny smile on Yeri’s face.

“What would you say the ratio is? Your effort and practice versus your natural talent. What amount of each is it that makes your performances look so easy? Because watching you right now it has to be at least sixty percent or more in favor of the exercise.”

You reach out again like you’re going to touch her as she comes down, but you keep your hand just far enough away.

“And not just what you do, but the way this body of yours looks. If I wasn’t watching you sculpt it right now, I’d have figured it was sculpted by some Greek god. Belongs in a fucking art museum if you ask me.”

Your hand hovers extremely close to Yeri’s leg. You can actually feel the heat of her body, way above what you’d normally feel coming off a person. It’s like she’s a human furnace. And the amount of sweat on her is very noticeable now.

The bar catches on the rack again and Yeri bends over to grab the water again, drinking a few more swallows of it this time. “Museum my ass,” she says through a breathy laugh.

“That’s what I’m saying! One more set, right?”

Yeri stretches her arms, prompting you to wonder why she didn’t stretch before the workout. Your narrator says you shouldn’t think about it because it’s really hard to remember all of those kinds of details, and that’s not the point of word porn. But yes, you should be careful and stretch before working out.

“That’s right. I hope you’re ready to go again because I’m seriously wanting more.”

“Absolutely,” you say. You stand up and run a hand over Yeri’s butt and up her back, pressing roughly. “I don’t think I’ve even gone soft once since I had this scene in front of me.”

Yeri groans and rolls her shoulders as you touch them. “I can stop now, you know. I could go for the fucking right now.”

“I know, I know. But you’re not done yet. And I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying watching this.” You take your hand away and look Yeri in the eye via the mirror wall. “Hell, I might just have to convince you to do more.”

Without another word, Yeri gets underneath the bar again and picks it up. “If you’re so eager to see more, then…” She cuts herself off and dips into another squat.

Your eyes trace her from the floor up as you circle around. Yeri's thighs tremble from the weight. Her ass spreads from the movement. Her chest heaves from her breaths. Her lips part in just a way that you consider telling her to drop the bar so you can kiss her, but you're committed to watching her finish.

Rather than tempt yourself with the sight of her lips, you look up at her eyes. But you quickly regret it, as she looks back at yours. Her normally bright, mischievous eyes turn into black holes that you can't escape from. You feel a drop of your own sweat curl its way down your cheek.

“Holy shit, Yeri. I can’t wait to fuck you again, but at the same time, seeing this is too incredible to stop.”

Yeri is the one who breaks the gaze first, scrunching up her eyes. You look down again to see the trembling in her legs has gotten pretty bad.

"This is more weight than you usually use, huh?"

"Y-yup."

"How many left?"

"Three."

"Five."

"What the fu--"

You interrupt her with a kiss, since she's fully upright. The heat of the fire inside her drafts into your mouth. You don't want to stop, but you manage to pull away. "Just do five."

She looks up at you, her mouth gaped open. "Kay,"

As Yeri dips down, you walk around her again. Behind her, you put your hands out over her shoulders to spot her when she's back at your height. "Four more."

Yeri glances at you in the mirror, but quickly shuts her eyes again and goes down. You follow to make sure she's safe, but keep your hands off the bar.

Back at the top again, you continue the countdown. "Three."

Yeri doesn’t open her eyes this time. You just follow her down again, lightly resting your wrists against her shoulders to make sure she knows you're there. Her whole body is quivering as she rises again.

She gasps loudly when she's upright. "Keep breathing," you remind her, "Only two more."

"Shit," is the one word she gets out before she goes again. There's a moment when she reaches the bottom that she hesitates, and you fear she's going to drop the bar. You brace your arms, but Yeri clearly isn't one to disappoint. She rises again, shaking like a leaf.

You feel a little bad when she's all the way up again, as she is clearly already beyond what she's comfortable with. Even so, you're confident you can keep her from hurting herself, so you lean forward next to her ear and say very softly, "Just one more."

It seems she's got nothing more to say, because she immediately goes down for the last squat. You nearly lose your balance following her this time.

She squirms as she starts to lift herself up for the last time. The sweat practically pours off of her.

Her form must be a little off too, because the bar knocks against one of the middle rungs on the rack. She jerks back. A struggled croak comes out of her throat, and you can see her face screwed up in the mirror, with the tiniest bit of black eyeliner running down one side of her face. You're just about to grab the bar and push it up the rest of the way, but you barely have the time to make the move when she huffs and practically jumps up the rest of the way.

The bar lands on the rack safely, but Yeri's knees buckle and she starts to collapse forward. Thankfully with how close you are, you're able to catch her almost immediately, and avoid smacking your head on the bar too.

Her skin, even through her sweat, is practically hot enough to burn your hands. You help her lay down on her back and grab her water bottle, opening it and holding it ready.

Despite your concern, you're feeling extremely turned on. Her beautiful chest rises and falls rapidly. Her whole body absolutely shines. And on her face, closed eyes and a satisfied smile.

You put the water bottle to her lips and tilt so just a little trickles into her mouth. "Stay hydrated," you say simply. Yeri complies and gulps down the stream of water.

When you take away the half empty bottle, Yeri groans and uses her arm to roll herself onto her stomach. "Fuck me already."

That's a request you're happy to fulfill. You position yourself over her and spread her ass apart with your thumbs. Your dick is still covered in lube from earlier, and she's pretty slippery right now too…

A pleased hum from Yeri is the last encouragement you need, and you slide into her ass much more easily than you would have expected. Yeri's moan is muffled by the floor.

"So I keep going, eh?"

"Mmmfffmm."

You lift her pelvis up a bit so you can get a hand underneath and on her clit like before. You rub slowly, to match the slow thrusting into her ass. She doesn't move at all, but her moans keep coming. Much like earlier, her pussy is absolutely drenching your hand, so you assume you're doing something right.

Now that you're in full contact with her body, you can feel her heat again. It's hot enough to be uncomfortable, but considering what you just convinced her to do, you don't think your comfort is worth stopping for.

"How do you feel?" you ask.

Yeri lifts her head enough to respond coherently. "My legs fucking hurt."

You chuckle. "Yeah, sorry about that. You just looked so good doing that. Do you need some time to cool do--"

"Don't you dare get off of me."

"Woah! Noted. Nice."

Yeri rests her head on her arms. "The burn is worth it."

"Good to hear. I enjoyed it too."

"Oh? You didn't do much though. After this," she takes an extra deep breath. Whether it's because of something you did or her exhaustion you're not sure. "After this, you can do an actual workout you know. I think it's only fair if you take a turn, right?"

Ummm… is it fair?

Literally only even putting this in because this part was starting to get too long and I need to try to keep them short for my own sanity LOL *dies inside*. So the deadline for Part 6 will be Jan. 4th at 12:00 UTC. Options for Part 6: 1. (Picked:) Of course! You’ve been looking forward to your chance this whole time. You’ll happily get your lift on! Save you a trip to your gym! 2. Sure, if you have to. But maybe it’s something you can discuss when you’re not in the middle of this? 3. You don’t want to work out. That wasn’t exactly what you had planned when you came in, but you’re not going to say that now. 4. No way. You’re here to fuck Yeri. If you’re going to work out, you’ll do it on your own time!

~~~~~

In the time it takes you to pull almost all of the way out and slide all the way back in, you’ve made a decision. “Yeah, fuck it. Maybe you can give me a solid tip or two. I could probably use the exercise anyway.”

“I don’t know. Feels like you’re fine to me, but I’m happy to help if I can.”

“Aw, how flattering. And to think I considered saying no.”

Yeri fidgets a little bit. “That would have been okay. Either way, I don’t want you to stop what you’re doing now.”

“That’s good. Because I don’t want to.”

“But don’t forget. It’s okay if I don’t cum.”

“You know, that’s alright. I’m just going to make this as pleasurable for you as I can while I have you underneath me. Let’s not worry about the orgasm right now.”

Yeri holds her head up long enough to look at you in the mirror and say, “Oh my, you caught on. Thank you. But about the orgasm… I do like the idea of your cum in my ass.”

You’re not going to bother arguing against that. If that’s what she wants, you’re happy to provide.

You give Yeri’s ass a few more long, slow, languid thrusts. All the while, you keep a steady pace on her clit.

For as tired as she must be, Yeri doesn’t leave all of the work to you. She grinds her hips in tiny circles and clenches down on her pelvis. She must be doing some kind of exercise for that too, because you know for a fact both Eunha and Yerin have never been able to do that quite as effectively as Yeri is now (though you do feel a sense of deja vu and the name Seungyeon briefly pops into your head). You have to pause each time she does it, and you’re not sure if you’re annoyed by it or if it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced.

At the end of an extra long stroke, Yeri reaches behind herself and lays her wrist on the back of your neck, pulling you down so your mouth is next to her ear. You take it as a hint, so you nibble and kiss around the outer edge.

Yeri giggles in a low tone. Her fingers stretch their way into your hair and lightly scratch back and forth.

The sensual tone of the moment overtakes your sensibilities for just a second. Just long enough for you to back up and drive in with one powerful thrust. You hear Yeri’s breath catch in her mouth and you bite down where her shoulder meets her neck, just above and behind her collarbone.

It wasn’t your intention to bite especially hard, but you were a little caught up. Yeri’s caught breath turns into the very first bit of a scream before it catches once again. Her fingers spasm on the back of your head, and every other part of her body that’s in contact with yours tenses up.

You also don’t intend to stop. You don’t quite pound into her the same way, but you do move faster than you were moving before. You change your angle to be more vertical, and you manage to get a couple of fingers around Yeri’s clit.

“Oh god,” Yeri manages to say.

Her ass clenches down on your cock painfully hard. Her whole body freezes up, and the hand on your head feels like it’s stuck. You’re just able to keep thrusting. It seems that’s exactly what you needed to do, too.

Yeri screams out incoherently. You’re a little thankful that she’s facing away from you and into the floor, because you feel like you might have lost your eardrums otherwise. Even as it is, your ears hurt.

Her hand falls away and pats the floor. Her voice is much weaker now. “I came… I came,” she mutters.

You cock an eyebrow up. It wasn’t as hard to make that happen as you were led to believe, especially for anal sex. Fully hilted in, you grind your hips around. “That was easy.”

“Shut uuup,” her voice sounds hoarse. You look to the side to make sure the water didn’t get knocked over at any point, because you get the feeling she’ll need it. “It doesn’t usually happen… like that.”

“What do you think was different?”

“I don’t know… the clit stuff maybe?”

“You don’t get your clit played with often?”

“No, I… I said shut up! Can you… let me up?”

You hold back a laugh and do as she asks. Untangling yourself is slightly difficult with her dead weight on your arm, but you help out by pulling her over onto her back and handing her the water bottle.

Looking down at your hand now that it’s free, you see it’s completely soaked. You must not have noticed how wet she was getting with all of the heat and being distracted by the intense fucking. And right where she was just lying down, there’s practically a lake. You’re not sure where her sweat ends and where her sexual fluid begins (but you have a pretty good idea).

Yeri drags herself up into a sitting position against the squatting rack and finishes off the rest of the water. “Well now my legs and my ass are going to be sore for days. Good thing I’m only MCing stuff I can sit down for.”

“Are you going to be okay with that? After that scream, your voice is a little bit…”

“Yeah, I’ll just tell them I’ve got a little cold. They’ll buy anything.”

The two of you smirk at each other.

“God damn though, that was good. Is it weird to say thanks for that?”

You chuckle. “Nah. And you’re welcome. Will you need more water?”

“I’m dehydrated as fuck now, so yes. But there’s a vending machine right down the hall. But this was enough to hold me over for a minute. What are you looking to do?”

Yeri gestures around the room. There’s quite a bit of equipment you could try out.

This will be another short vote period! Voting will close on 1/6 at 12:00 UTC. Options for Part 7: 1. The bench is free. That’s pretty basic stuff, and probably where you’re most confident in showing off. 2. She’s got a leg press machine so you can destroy your legs like Yeri just did. Actually that would have been very convenient earlier… 3. (Picked:) Try your hand (and the rest of your body) at pilates! You don’t know what to do, but you’re sure to get a laugh! 4. You lied! You’re out of here! HA!

~~~~~

You point up at the pilates setup and Yeri laughs.

"Yeah! This will be great! You're totally the graceful type."

You're not sure if that's sarcasm you detect in her voice, but you shrug it off. Her laugh is what you wanted to hear and you're already successful in that.

"Oh of course," you say with a very false confidence, "You know they call me the pilates master? Because they do."

You step over and lift yourself onto the device. You grab a hold of it the same way Yeri did before. At least, you’re close. You're not exactly sure.

Very carefully, you step your way up the bars and find yourself horizontal. Then you go further and completely lose your sense of direction, though you think you might be upside down. The blood rushes to your ears but you still hear the sound of Yeri giggling across the room.

“You weren’t kidding. That’s a super advanced move.”

“Yup. I invented it,” you say, pretending to be sure of yourself despite the disorientation, “I call this move the Reverse Crab with Lion Splash. It’s really good for your kneecaps.”

Looking up, or down, or sideways, one of those directions, you see an upside down Yeri covering her mouth to attempt to hold in her snickering.

You complete your sort-of backflip, so that you’re facing the padded table below you, your knees caught on the middle bar. You can feel your hamstrings, back, and shoulders straining to keep from falling right then and there.

Yeri’s barely contained laughter bursts out. You didn’t think it was that funny, but she’s an odd person, so you’re not surprised. Until, that is, she says, “You’re just freeballing up there with those gymnastics huh?”

It hits you that the sight of your lubed up and mostly softened dick flopping around as you awkwardly twist your way around the bars probably is fairly humorous. And a bit embarrassing to match. You suddenly feel a little bit self-conscious. And yet, you manage one last retort, “Uh yeah. Haven’t you heard of penilates?”

Yeri snorts and pats the floor. “You’re funny, you know that? I like it. Get back down here and I’ll show you how to do some basics if you really want to do pilates.”

Well, as long as she claims you’re funny.

You maneuver yourself out of the bars and drop off the rack. “Alright coach! What do I do?”

“First, come over here and lay down on your stomach. Put your hands to the sides like you’re going to do a pushup, but like, right under your shoulders.”

The lightly padded floor makes the action relatively comfortable. Yeri rolls on her hips so that she’s able to put a hand on the small of your back. A strangely comfortable chill runs up your spine at the feeling.

“Now push yourself up with your arms, but make sure your legs stay attached to the floor.”

You easily follow her instructions.

“Good!” she says cheerfully. She lifts your chin up, putting more of a stretching sensation on your chest. “Make sure you’re looking straight forward. This is called a Swan. It’s not a big deal, but it helps you with stretching out your core.”

“Yeah, I feel that for sure. I was expecting something a little more intense.”

“Most people are. Pilates is pretty easy though. Mostly.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the hard stuff?”

“Calm it down! We’ll get there. Probably not today though.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Because I’d like to do this with you and I can barely feel my legs.”

“Wow, I’m that good of a fuck?”

Yeri runs her hand over your butt. “Yup. It was all you and your sexual prowess and had nothing to do with anything else that happened since we got here.”

The two of you share a chuckle.

“So how long do I hold this?”

“About now would be good. For you, I’d say… do that for about thirty seconds at a time. And three times of course.”

“What if I normally only do two sets?” you ask as you lay yourself back on the floor.

She lightly smacks your ass. “Hey! What did we agree on about not calling me a liar!”

“Oh, sorry. I would never call you out for lying.”

“That’s… pretty much right. Now, up up!”

Once in your second Swan, you have a thought. “Hey, old reference at this point, but I’ve got a question about what you were talking about in The Lounge.”

“Shoot.”

“I asked why the three of you don’t just have sex with each other, and Seulgi said it was about wanting different things and being uncomfortable with it. So uh, have you tried to bite them before?”

“Oh god. Yeah, I tried that once or twice. Real good reactions out of all four of them.”

“Four?”

“Yup. Well, five. All five of us have tried having sex with each other. Still do sometimes, if we’re feeling desperate.”

“But you’re not into it?”

“Basically. Seulgi is in mad love with Wendy but she’s scared to admit it. Wendy is obsessed with Joy, but Joy is trying to convince herself that she’s straight. Irene and Wendy are both only interested in soft, nice sex, but they both want to be penetrated and can’t seem to get their act together with a double ended dildo. Seulgi wants to be a domme, but ever since Wendy was nearly murdered, she has to go easy on her hips. I’m totally into being dommed, but Seulgi is a wimp and when I talk back to her she gets all nervous and shit.”

You assume thirty seconds have passed, so you lower yourself to the floor again. You knew you would get some kind of explanation when you asked, but you weren’t expecting so much information. You think you may have already forgotten some of it.

Yeri keeps rambling, “Irene used to fuck Seulgi all the time, but during their sub unit promotions they got really busy with each other and I think they just kind of lost the mood, you know? Plus, now that Seulgi wants to explore her rougher side, Irene’s just not into it. Joy used to be the perfect fuck buddy for everybody because she was so good at accommodating everyone and enjoying it. Oh actually, she even did the pet play thing with me once! No clue what we were thinking though. I tried to be a puppy, but then I made a joke about Haetnim and that totally shut the whole thing down. And I’m pretty sure that it isn’t a healthy thing for Wendy, because of how hard she’s crushing for a quote unquote straight girl. But yeah, that’s the point with Joy. She’s claiming that she’s totally straight and started dating Cheungae, but I don’t know how long that’s going to-- Oh no, stay on your stomach.”

You had started to roll over after finishing your third Swan, but Yeri holds you back by your shoulder. “Next I’ll have you do a T.”

“A T? Like the letter T?”

“Exactly.”

“Is it like this?” You stick your arms straight out to either side and point your feet straight down, keeping your face on the floor.

Yeri laughs. “Basically, yes, but now pick your head, chest, arms, and legs up as far as you can, looking forward. Hold that for five seconds, five times.”

This move in particular is actually a bit harder, as it sounds like the only part of you meant to stay on the floor is your stomach.

“Sorry by the way. I rant on like a gossipy bitch sometimes. Was that too much information?”

The voting deadline for Part 8 will be 1/13 at 12:00 UTC! Options for Part 8 [IMPORTANT]: 1. “Well, it was maybe a bit much.” You can’t blame her for oversharing, but it’s no big deal. She seemed extremely eager to bring all that up, after all. 2. (Picked:) “Nope! In fact, tell me more!” Should you know all of this? No. Do you want to know more? Absolutely yes. 3. “Yeah, you really shouldn’t say so much.” It was pretty rude of her to say all of that stuff about her members’ personal relationships. Your question was much simpler than that.

~~~~~

"Nope! In fact, tell me more!"

Yeri chuckles. "Just as long as you don't spill any of what I tell you, alright? We could both get in some real trouble."

That's how secrets always work, right? You can keep the secrets and the non-secrets separate and never tell anyone anything that would be a problem, right? Yeah, no problem.

Right?

"Well, I don't think Joy's relationship is going to last much longer. She is trying really hard, but the strain is going to get to her. And one of our members is absolutely going to fuck her soon and restore the balance."

You snort, forcing you to put your hands and legs down. "Restore the balance? What is this, an epic fantasy novel?"

"You know what I mean! She's the perfect fucker or fuck toy for every member, and in the past, she's loved that. She told us so herself. But we've been together for years, so we know when she's not alright. About a month after she started dating Cheungae, she said she couldn't have sex anymore. And it's just been downhill from there. They're fucking each other, but she has said more than once that she misses fucking other people too."

"The things people do for the sake of relationships."

"Yeah, it's cute, but…" Yeri grips your ass cheek as you come out of your last T. "You know how freeing it is to not be in one."

You sigh, thinking for a second about something SinB told you. "Yup… but hey, has Joy talked to this guy about an open relationship? Or like some other kind of arrangement? Just taking a wild guess here, but I'd imagine any guy would die for a threesome with Joy and you."

"I offered. I heard from Wheein that Cheungae's got a dick the size of the DMZ, so I'm all for giving that a spin. Joy rejected the idea though."

"Damn, why?"

"Well Cheungae isn't the problem. Joy is. I don't know if it's selfishness or if she is just trying way too hard to make a normal relationship work, but she doesn't want to share, herself or her man."

"That sucks. I'm sorry."

"Ah, it's okay. Like I said, I don't think it'll last much longer. And as far as I'm concerned, I've got myself a solid replacement!"

"I'm not a commodity!"

"Sure, ho, sure." Yeri giggles and slaps your butt.

You reach between her legs and push a couple of fingers into her pussy. "Sounds like you're trying to get me mad."

"Why would I do that? You… degenerate sack of shit who can't even fuck the right hole?"

Suddenly, you hear the sound of Yeri's phone going off. It's Wendy's voice. "Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!"

Yeri scowls. "Hurry up and pound my twat into the core of the planet."

You hold in a laugh and push Yeri onto her back and climb on top of her. Your sweat mixes with hers as you press your bodies together. She’s not burning hot like before, but she’s still pretty warm, and there’s certainly fire in her eyes as she pulls you to her lips--

“Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!”

Yeri’s tongue invades your mouth forcefully. Your practiced cock finds its way into her with no trouble at all. There’s no hesitation from either one of you. She pulls you into her, and you--

“Are you ready for this? Zimzala-- Yeri! I’m calling you on the important line! Why aren’t you picking up?”

That doesn’t sound like a ringtone anymore. You pull away from Yeri’s kiss, but she suddenly sticks a finger against your cheek. “Don’t you dare stop. I don’t want to feel my legs.”

“Didn’t that already happen?” you ask, with no small amount of snark.

“Yeri? Are you still? Oh god. I’m sorry--” Static crackles through the speaker for a moment. “This must be really awkward for you.”

“Oh don’t mind me,” you say, “I’m just doing my job, apparently.” You back up just a bit and start thrusting hard and fast. Yeri’s breath gets pushed out of her with the force of the first one, but she quickly adjusts and matches your rhythm.

There’s a pause from Wendy. “O-okay. That’s good. I mean, wait! No! Yeri! Irene is on her way to pick you up to take you to the studio!”

“God- dammit- Wendy-” Yeri is having difficulty speaking, only managing to get a word or so out for each time you slam into her. “He’s so- fucking- good- Tell- her- to- wait!”

You could swear that you can hear Wendy blushing through the phone. “We can’t! You’ve got to record…”

“He doesn’t- care- about- spoilers!”

“I mean, I kind of do… How did the call start if we’re over here?”

“I had to install an app on her phone to automatically answer the call-- I mean, you’ve got to hurry and pack up! Irene is going to be there any second!”

Yeri whines in staccato, and is about to say something but is interrupted. And you’re suddenly forced to stop fucking her by a voice that chills your spine like being lost in a blizzard.

“Wendy’s right, Yeri. We’ve got to go.”

Looking to the side, you and Yeri both see Irene standing in the wide-open doorway. The lack of expression on her face is unnerving in a way you can’t accurately describe.

“Come on Irene, please! We can just record later! Just give us five more minutes!”

You feel like you could comment on the fact that Yeri sounds like she’s complaining to her mother to stay in bed, but Irene lifts her eyebrows a few millimeters and your motivation to make a joke is suddenly gone.

“Uuugh!” Yeri reluctantly, slowly, pushes you to the side.

Well, seems like that’s over with. But maybe you can convince Irene to let it not be over with… Or not. Hard to say.

The voting deadline for Part 9 will be 1/17 at 12:00 UTC! Options for Part 9: 1. Irene doesn’t scare you! Tell her you’re not done with Yeri yet! SM can wait for her! 2. Okay, Irene scares you. You should apologize and see yourself out of here. 3. (Picked:) Eh. No big deal. Yeri said that Irene is basically just the same as the other RV members.

~~~~~

You lean back against one of the vertical bars of the squat rack. The metal is very cold, making you flinch. But you play it cooler than the metal, propping your chin up on your wrist by putting your elbow on your knee.

“Hey Irene,” you say casually, as if you weren’t naked in front of one of the most powerful idols in the business, “How’s your morning so far?”

“It’s fine.” Irene is just as casual as you are. She seems more interested in watching as Yeri crawls around the gym on her arms, gathering clothes.

“So you have a new comeback soon, huh?”

Her eyes seem unfocused for a moment, as if she’d just spaced out.

“Oh. Yes,” she eventually says.

Irene’s not especially talkative, you surmise.

“Well, if the recording isn’t too urgent, you can hang out with us for a bit longer. I bet Yeri would be willing to share, assuming you were also wanting in on this situation.”

“Oooh, hey yeah. You want some Irene?” Yeri asks. A cheesy grin spreads across her face. “I got him all warmed up for you.”

Irene gestures softly at Yeri’s bra in the middle of the floor. Yeri rolls her eyes and reaches out for it.

“I appreciate the thought.”

You shrug and move to grab your own clothes. Putting them on feels gross considering the sweat and cum all over you. You resolve to take a shower as soon as you get home. “It was worth a shot.”

Yeri gets her sports bra back on and lets out a long sigh. “You sure though? My voice is a little fucked up right now. We could say I’m sick and that you’re just taking care of me like a good leader.”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

A woman of few words, this one.

With your legs fully functional, you’re able to finish dressing much quicker than Yeri, and approach Irene, giving her a standard bow. “Good to meet you, by the way. Sounds like you’ve already heard about me.”

“From Joy, yes.” Irene bows back to you. “Is it okay if I get your contact from Wendy?”

You blink in shock. That was easy enough. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good to me.”

Irene nods, expression still inscrutable. “Do you prefer calls or texts?”

“Either works for me.”

Yeri pops in. “He’s not actually a prostitute you know.”

For the first time, Irene makes a face you can decipher. It seems to be a bit of minor, subtle shock. “Oh, so this…” She points back and forth between you and Yeri. “Was for…”

You finish for her after she pauses. “The hell of it, yeah.”

“I paid you in salmon bagels,” Yeri says.

“Well that and a free pilates lesson, sure.”

The tiniest smile curls up the corners of Irene’s lips. “How fun.”

It gets silent again, besides the sounds of Yeri huffing as she works to get her pants back on.  You nod quietly, unsure of how to respond.

Thankfully, Irene looks you in the eye and motions for you to come closer, which you do. While Yeri is occupied with pulling her hoodie back over her head, Irene leans in close to you and whispers into your ear, so quietly it takes you a moment to process what she’s saying.

“I heard you earlier. Stay away from Joy.”

You back off again, a little struck by what sounded like a very calm threat.

“I’m parked downstairs Yeri. No more than five minutes, okay?”

“Oh come on, you tell me that now?!”

Without another word, Irene turns and walks back out the door. You’re still a little stunned, watching the back of her head, when she looks back over her shoulder and gives you a coy smile and a wink. Your head swims with questions.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at the now-closed door, but you’re snapped out of it by a loud smack on the back of your jeans, just below your ass. Yeri’s next to you, keeping herself upright with her hand on the wall. “A little help here?”

You look down and see her legs are shaking like leaves. “Oh shit, yeah, I’ve got you.”

Scooping your arm under hers, you support as much of her weight as you can on your shoulder. It feels like she’s mostly able to stay on her feet on her own, but she definitely wobbles a bit.

“You going to be okay?” you ask once you’re in the hallway.

“Oh totally! I’ll be able to walk... mostly normally once we’ve reached the studio. But you know how it is. Squat until your legs give out and then immediately get ass-fucked to an unexpected orgasm, and that’ll give you a few minutes worth of trouble.”

“That’s not actually a sensation I’m familiar with.”

“Who knows? Maybe Seulgi will get her domme act together and then you will be!”

You’re not so sure how you feel about that.

“Hey by the way. Irene was asking about getting your number, right? Can I get it now? Faster than getting it from Wendy since she’ll probably be out all day.”

This will be the last vote for Yexercise! *Wipes away tears* The deadline for this vote will be 1/23 at 12:00 UTC, at which point we’ll be talking on the Discord server about what’s next! Options for Part 10: 1. (Picked:) Of course she can have your number right away! You had fun, she had fun, you should have more fun! 2. Don’t let this crazy have your contact info. In fact, you should let Wendy know to give her a fake number…

~~~~~

You don’t even need to say anything. You pull out your phone, open your contacts, and hand it to Yeri. She puts her info in and sends herself some random gibberish in a text.

“Awesome!” she says, slipping the phone back into your pocket expertly as you make your way down the hall together, “No requests for sleazy pictures though. Can’t have anything getting out if something happens to your phone. Or mine.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream-- well, I would dream of it. But I won’t ask.”

Yeri giggles. “Ah, hey. The water’s right there. Wanna stop for just a second?”

At the machine, Yeri swipes her key card just like she did at the door to the gym. It only contains what you recognize as the cheap water brands, unsweetened tea, some dried fruit snacks in plain packaging, and a variety of protein bars. There’s no indicator for payment anywhere though.

“Perks of the personal, private gym?” you ask.

“Perks of the personal, private gym,” Yeri says.

A couple of water bottles are pushed out at arm’s height. Yeri hands one to you, takes the other for herself, and you both gulp down about half before continuing.

“I’ve got to say, I was expecting this to be one of those expensive waters. Blessed by monks, imported from Egypt, shit like that.”

Yeri smirks. “You know what they say. SM water tastes like water. No reason to spend wastefully.”

She finishes her water off, and you get to the stairwell. You think that three flights of stairs might be a little difficult at the moment, but fortunately there’s an elevator nearby you hadn’t noticed when you were following Yeri up earlier.

As you’re gradually taken to the ground floor, Yeri nudges your side. “If I ever share something juicy with you by the way, I expect at least five words in response. None of that ‘LOL’ followed by silence stuff.”

You laugh. “What if I can’t think of anything to say?”

“You can just bullshit an answer. No biggie.”

“What if my life is threatened because I know your gossip?”

“Your life, huh?”

“Well, not specifically. I just assume Irene will break every bone in my body. I guess I can live through that, right?”

“God, she better not be doing that again.”

You stare at Yeri. “Doing that again?”

“Making people uneasy. Point is, don’t worry about her. She’s just got a… uh, an unusual way of communicating, we’ll say.”

“Something like that, sure.”

Yeri puts her free hand on your chest. “She’ll warm up to you, I promise. I’ll put in a good word for you! As long as you do me one more favor.”

Anything to get a good word in to Irene so you don’t end up murdered. “What’s that?”

“Just give me one more, real good kiss in front of her. Right up next to the car window!”

You wrap your arms around her waist and shift Yeri so she’s in front of you. “Like this?” you ask, and half-lift her to your height. The moment your lips touch, you feel the elevator jerk to a stop and the door opens.

“Maybe a bit more than that, but I like where your head’s at.”

“It could be between your legs,” you say, mimicking Yeri’s seductive tone from earlier at The Lounge.

“Don’t tempt me like that!”

All smiles, you help Yeri feebly get outside. You spot a car with dark windows, where you can barely see Irene’s silhouette inside. It also happens to be the only car on the street, and Yeri easily confirms that it’s the correct one.

Yeri is thankfully able to stand on her own once you get to the passenger side. You open the door for her, but before she gets in, you spin her to face you and dive in for a real kiss. She moans and her arms wrap up under your shirt instantly, so you respond by sliding one hand down the back of her yoga pants. It should be right where Irene can see your fingers outlined through the fabric.

Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a reaction from Irene. You wonder what it will take to crack her neutral act.

“Mmm, even more than that next time, okay?” Yeri pulls away from you and turns to get into the car.

“Of course. I might charge you one extra water bottle next time though.”

“Uh-oh. I’ll be sure to save up for it.”

You laugh together before she sits down. You lean over to pop your head in after her. “See you next time then. And good to finally meet you Irene!”

Irene looks up at you from the book she was reading. “Hm? Oh yes, a pleasure.”

Yeri catches your gaze again. You can see the moment of sudden, unbridled thrill in her eyes, so you wait for her to say…“No Irene! The pleasure was mine!”

Her hand shoots up, and you meet it for an excellent, but questionably deserved high-five. Irene sighs heavily.

You laugh and back up again. “Nice one, Yeri. See you later.”

“See ya, ho!” Yeri shouts before closing the door. As is the case with Yerin, you’re pretty sure you’re stuck with nicknames like that from now on.

You wave the car goodbye and turn back around to make your way back home. You could use a shower.

THE END

~~~~~

Post-story notes:

Hey everybody! Thank you again for joining me for one of these crazy vote stories. I’ve really appreciated the participation, and I think we’ll be getting even more next time!

We’ll be discussing the subject and characters for the next story on the Discord. Suggestions so far include (forgive me if the capitalization is incorrect on these)… Dreamcatcher, WJSN, Mamamoo, Momoland, CLC, Oh My Girl, Lovelyz, more Gfriend, and Fromis_9! But nothing’s set in stone yet! Fill out the form in #announcements if you have even more suggestions to add to the hat.

As for when the next story starts, I’m going to say probably the first week of February. As you may have seen me mention, I’ll be writing some shorts just to spill some of my creative juices. On top of that, I quit my day job! Because I’m starting school! So exciting and nerve wracking! Given how stupidly stressful my day job was, I’m hoping I should be able to pump out stories a little more frequently moving forward.

The storyline unlocks from Yexercise are going to look pretty obvious: [Yeri - Workout buddy] [Yeri - Gossip girl]

And just like with Movie Night, here are some fun facts about unpicked options! At least one of you read these last time, and made a very astute observation about Sowon, so you’ll be getting your wish for that fairly soon.

Part 1. Picking Wendy or Seulgi would have (obviously) resulted in a different name for the story altogether! The names I had in mind weren’t finalized, but the top contenders were “Snow Day” for Wendy and “Dom-Flavored Pringles” for Seulgi.

Part 3. Yeri had two animals in mind for the pet-play: She could have been a cat or a cow. The option to be a puppy would have also been there, but she would have been skeptical about it given her history trying that with Joy.

Part 4. At first, I wasn’t planning on there being any anal in Part 6, but because the vote for Part 4 was SO close, I went back and changed my plans, just so y’all could get what you wanted. :P

Part 5. Again, just mentioning how close the vote was. I was very interested to see that for most of the voting period, the options to keep Yeri working out and to stop and just talk to her were neck and neck. I’m still feeling out what the best balance is between fluff and smut, and you guys are surprisingly wholesome!

Part 7. If you had chosen the leg workout, you’d have been too exhausted to help Yeri out of the gym, resulting in Irene rescheduling the recording session. She’d have stayed to hang out, and that would have blocked off the [Yeri - Gossip girl] storyline (which does have some smaller impact on the relationship with Irene moving forward as well, btw).

[steddiesupportgroup]

Congratulations on the 500!!!! Clearly these people have good taste 😌 I’m going to hold myself back from sending a bunch of asks but do you have a ‘go to’ song for any of the st characters or pairings? And do you have any headcanons on who teaches the kids to drive? Or!!! Any thoughts on vampire Eddie and Steve please 👁👁

Okay round two of answering this ask because the app decided to quit on me when I was in the middle of it >:(

I’m gonna touch on all three of these subjects cause you’re one of my fave mutuals :)

:readmore:

As far as vampire hcs go my head is a little empty, but I like the image of Eddie’s eyes reflecting light in the dark like a cat’s or a deer’s, like imagine seeing those in the dark as you drive by…spooky. I think Steve’s blood tastes different from other people’s because he was bitten by the bats too, but he’s still the only one Eddie wants to feed on. And because Eddie got it the worst out of the two of them (and he was bitten on the neck and it makes sense to me) he’s the one who fully turned. Steve spat out the bat’s blood, so maybe he got lucky?

And my number one romance song has always been I Love You, Honeybear by Father John Misty, and I think it suits steddie so well. That whole album is amazing (Chateau Lobby #4 would save me from Vecna) and the way he talks about his love for his wife really reminds me of how I think Eddie feels about Steve. Here’s a few of my fave lyrics:

Mascara, blood, ash and cum on the Rorschach sheets where we made love

Fuck the world, damn straight malaise, it may be just us who feel this way

Don’t ever doubt this, my steadfast conviction. My love, you’re the one I wanna watch the ship go down with

The future can’t be real, I barely know how long a moment is, unless we’re naked getting high on the mattress while the global market crashes.

UGH I just love it.

And I think Steve would love to take it upon himself to teach the kids how to drive. He teaches Lucas and Dustin, and then later Lucas would teach Erica. Steve wouldn’t want Eddie to because he’s a bad influence on the road (Steve’s never seen someone multitask while going 20 over the speed limit like he does) but Eddie drives with Max and they’re both nightmares behind the wheel. Nancy would also be a great teacher, if not a little impatient. She teaches Mike how to drive and even tho they argue nonstop, he becomes a better driver for it. Jonathan would teach Will, obviously, but for some reason I think Will wouldn’t want to drive all that much. He and El are like Robin, they enjoy being passengers.

Hope these were okay!

[hollowedwing]

Isekai-ed into Hawk's Life

Hawks x gn!winged!Reader

Warnings: ⚠️ Death!(at very beginning, it is an isekai), mentions of death throughout, some angst(??maybe not yet??), slight cursing

THIS WILL NOT FOLLOW A SPECIFIC TIMELINE IN THE MANGA

(so sorry i just, love, love, the idea of having wings)

(this is all my art, it is on IG, im just too embarrassed for people who know me irl to potentially find this xD Even though none of them have tumblr 👀 if you somehow recognize it...props to you?)

_________________________________

tbh, I can’t decide if I want this to have more than 1 part. 

Word count: ~1,800

_________________________________

You were on your way home from a long evening at your part time job. Before that you had already taken 2 finals that morning too.

You dragged your feet, exhausted, as you headed towards the crosswalk. Stopping at the edge as the traffic light turned green, you decided to pull out your phone and decided to watch a speed paint from your favorite artist who recently released a new video.

It just so happened it was a Hawks speed paint 👀

The light turned red and you slipped your phone into your pocket as your started to make your way across the street

little did you know this would be the last time you'd cross the street

A wild driver came barreling down the road, no regards for civilians or traffic lights, probably drunk or high or just someone out for blood.

You stood there like a deer caught in headlights as your life flashes before your eyes

You can barely comprehend what's happening as you felt pain engulf your body and suddenly you were unconscious

________________________________________

Keigo tiredly stumbled into his large apartment, kicking off his shoes and shrugging his jacket off by the door

He wants nothing more than to just flop down and pass out. The HPSC has been giving him hell lately about god knows what.

He let out a long sigh and headed towards the bathroom to do his nightly routine

As he finishes up, he drags his feet towards his bed and flops down face first into the comfort of his pillow and sheets

Keigo falls asleep almost instantly after getting into a comfortable position, worn out from a long day of work

What he wasn't expecting was a loud "thud!" coming from the main room. He jolts up from his bed, feathers ready to attack.

*******

Reader's pov(?)

*******

You groaned as you hit the floor. Your head was spinning and it feels like a truck just hit you

oh wait...

You suddenly became more alert, looking around in a panic, expecting to either be on the road and injured or in a hospital of sorts. What you didn't expect was a wooden floor inside of a random apartment.

You felt around your body for any signs of injury, but all you found were a set of wings on your back- wings?? Hold up. Why did you feel wings what kind of sick joke was this?

Your thoughts were racing as your breathing picked up. What was happening? Didn't you just get hit by a vehicle? Why are there wings in your back? Where are you even?

Feeling around in your pockets, you found your phone and whipped it out, trying for anything. You turned it on, the harsh light of it illuminating your face, you tried to send a text to your best friend, but alas, it wouldn't go through. Actually nothing on your phone seemed to work. You checked your location settings, for some reason it said Musutafu, Japan.

Wasn't....Wasn't that the location that most of Boku no Hero Academia took place?? This can't be right, this has to be a dream right? There's no way that you could have actually ended up here unless...

Then it hit you.

You read your fair share of isekai series back when you were alive in your realm. Mostly manhwas of characters getting reborn into another person's body, but, never actually reincarnating as yourself into another world.

That was the only thing you could think of. You must have been reincarnated into the Boku no Hero Academia world. Except as yourself.

In all honesty, this is not how you thought you'd go out. You didn't know what to expect after death, but this definitely wasn't it. After all, this was a fictional setting, wasn't it?

Well, not anymore because now you're living in it! Smh.

That would also probably explain the wings on your back. This was you now. You have a bird quirk.

Now, all you have to do, is figure out where the heck you are.

Just as you are about to stand up, feathers zip towards you, pinning you to the ground

You hear footsteps begin to come towards you. You don't know if you should be scared for your life considering you've already died once or ecstatic because, you knew for a fact, this could be none other than Hawks' apartment.

The winged hero finally emerges and stares down at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

He says in a low, gravely voice from sleep, "Who are you, and how did you get into my home?" You stare back up at him and nervously chuckle.

"I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you." You nervously sigh out.

"Try me." He demands, sounding a little more irritated now. You sigh in defeat and start to explain your situation.

"Do...do you know what an isekai is?" You said sheepishly while turning your gaze away from his. He kind of gave you a confused head tilt and just a vibe that said “No”. You sigh again and explain it to the best of your ability. Hawks becomes more and more interested and confused as you talk, but nods a long slowly. 

“So...you were reborn here, but as yourself? Wait- does that mean you died before!?” He asked, disbelief and fear ran through his eyes. You looked at him in bitter amusement.

“Apparently I did. The last thing I remember of my world was getting hit by some truck or car. The dude clearly did not know how to drive. I had the right of way I was pretty sure at least. I mean, the light was red, usually that means pedestrians can cross the street? And plus he was going wayyy over the speed limit,” you begin to ramble on, the reality of actually dying setting into you. Hawks noticed the panic beginning to set into you and released you from his feathers. He crouched down next to you and grabbed your shoulders gently.

"Hey, hey, hey, look at me, you're ok now, right? You're here, and not dying in the middle of the street still. You're here. In Musutafu," he said trying to calm you back to reality. Well, what was your new reality. Your mind was racing. Trying to put together a coherent thought. 

You look up to him, with a panicked look still in your eyes, thoughts started to come out of your mouth as your brain was trying to catch up with the situation. "I'm... I'm in Boku no Hero Academia and, and you’re Keigo... standing... right in front of me..I have wings. I have wings? Jeezus I have fucking wings. And I’m dead in my own world. I don’t know anyone, well, wait, technically, I do know people, just-Oh gods! I’m so sorry, that name slipped out! I- I, I’m really sorry Hawks." Even in your wild state, you noticed Hawks tense up at the sound of being called Keigo by a total stranger, and were able to get out an apology. That was progress? You were slowly coming back to reality.

Hawks froze up a bit at the sound of hearing his real name mentioned. At first he wasn't sure if he believed your tale of the isekai situation, but after this he might have to reconsider it. He opted to shake off that weird feeling for now and focus on different matters. 

" I-I don't know what I'm supposed to do now? I have nowhere to go or to stay. I'm in a whole different freaking universe! My phone doesn't even hardly work here. And I have a pair of wings on my back!" You puffed them out angrily. Hawks glanced behind you and his eyes widened a little. You in fact, did have a set of bird wings. Kind of owl like wings. Not near as big as Hawks', but definitely big enough to fly you around.

Before Hawks could process the words coming out of his mouth, he was already asking you, "Would you maybe like to stay with me? I can help with your quirk too." He glanced away awkwardly. You looked towards him in disbelief.

"Dude, are you sure? We literally just met like 10 minutes ago? I mean, I'm all for it, I have nowhere else to turn to, but if you really really don't want me here, I will politely step out of your life." You so badly wanted to accept his offer on the spot, but being the considerate, mostly sensible human you were, you gave him the option to back out. Hawks shook his head.

"No, no, it's alright. You can crash here. Uh- I mean- stay here! Sorry!" You giggled at his comment.

"Well thank you very much!"

"It's all good. I have a spare bedroom you can occupy for the time being. I'll give you some clothes to sleep in that'll hopefully fit. Accidentally bought a couple things in the wrong size without looking. " (a/n: just...just assume its your size, or oversized, whatever's comfy idk) He jumped up and headed towards his room to grab you the clothes. You still sat on the floor. Still amazed at everything that was occurring.

Hawks walked back into the room and tossed you the clothes. "Hey uh, you know, you can get up now, sorry for holding you down earlier.."

You blushed and scrambled to stand up, "Oh no! It's ok! I understand. This would definitely warrant that kind of action. Some random stranger crashes into your apartment at like 1am. I completely understand. Honest."

He let out a small laugh and wearily brushed his fingers through his hair. The adrenaline of everything finally wearing off. He could feel the tiredness setting into his aching muscles again. “Ah, well, I’m going to head to bed now. The room is down the hall at the very end that you can stay in. I’ll take you out training tomorrow evening if that’s alright?”

You gave a nod of understanding and followed him down the hallway. “Goodnight Hawks,” you sang as he walked into his bedroom. He gave a hum of acknowledgment and closed his door. 

Making it into what was now your room, you changed out of your clothes so fast, eager to rid yourself of the past hours events. 

Not gonna lie, you could not figure out how to properly get your new wings into the shirt, even with the holes and snaps in the back. Your mind was too exhausted to even process this new skill. So you ended up going to bed without the shirt on and just settled for putting the sweatpants on. 

You figured it’d be good to just pass out asap. You were sure if you tried to recount the recent events, you’d spiral into a panicked mess. 

You shut your eyes tightly, willing yourself to sleep, trying to only think of positive outcomes for the future. But to be honest, you didn’t know enough about anything in this realm to think rationally about anything good. 

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

I prooobably didn’t proofread this as much as I should have

[august-bleeds-red]

Texas Heat (Part Two)

Alpha!Tommy x omega!Reader (AFAB). When you find yourself trapped within the Hewitt family’s web of murder, violence and pain, the last thing you expect to do is fall in love.

Warnings: implied non-con, gore. NSFW in later chapters.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

~

Dinner that night is stew.

 You help Luda cut the vegetables, but the meat is already simmering in the pot by the time you come down. Thomas is nowhere to be seen, and when you ask where he is, as casually as possible, Luda answers with a sly grin.

 “Oh, he’s probably workin’ down in the basement. Often doesn’t eat ‘til later, ‘specially when we have guests. He’s awful shy, you see.”

 You don’t mention the way he’d stared at you upstairs – more domineering and intense than anyone else you’d have described as “shy”.

 “I hope you don’t mind me asking—” you begin to say, but she’s already nodding, clearly anticipating your next words.

 “His face?”

 You nod. Setting down the knife she’s using to slice the carrots, she adjusts her spectacles and glances towards the door you presume leads to the basement.

 “He’s awful sensitive about it. We don’t usually talk about it, but I don’t want you to be makin’ any nasty judgements ‘bout him.”

 “Of course not, I wouldn’t.”

 She pats your arm and continues chopping the carrots. “I found him when he was just born. Some cruel no-goods had left him to die in a trash can. Lord knows what filthy things he was exposed to in there before I took him home. He started gettin’ skin complaints when he was a boy. Real bad. The other kids used to tease him for it, call him ‘diseased’. Got too much for him so he took a knife and . . .” She presses the tips of her fingers to her mouth and shakes her head. “Sorry, still gets to me.”

 “I understand,” you say, your heart aching empathetically. “I’m sorry.”

 She pats your arm again and sighs, “You’re a good girl, Y/N.”

 For some reason, she says this with a note of sadness which makes you uneasy again. You don’t have long to dwell on it, though, before Hoyt enters the room.

 “How’s that stew comin’ on, Momma?” he asks jovially.

 You help set the table and bow your head respectfully while Hoyt says Grace, accepting your bowl of stew with a grateful smile. The meat is tender, with an unusual flavour you can’t quite place. You figure it must be some kind of game animal you’ve not tasted before, or herbs mixed in with the broth. It’s good, whatever it is. You help yourself to the cornbread Luda offers you and try not to be disconcerted by the way Monty is staring at you.

 He’s just a dirty old man, you try and convince yourself. Ignore him.

 Though it’s not that late by the time your plate is cleared, you claim tiredness and go upstairs to your tiny room. Closing the door behind you, you wish there was some kind of furniture you could prop against it; the chest of drawers is far too heavy for you to move inconspicuously. You don’t feel quite comfortable enough to change into the camisole you usually wear for sleeping, so decide to remain in your shorts and T-shirt. One night won’t hurt. You brush your teeth in the tiny sink, making a mental note to rinse your toothbrush with clean water before using it again, and curl up on top of the blanket. The air is thick and humid, and you’re soon wishing you could just sleep naked. Your own scent hangs heavy in the air and you curse your time of the month. Even with the precautions prescribed to you, your heat was always strong, but it never has this much of a toll on you. You remember your first – you were ten, an early bloomer, and it had hit you at summer camp. It was the height of August, and the counsellors had found you whimpering in a corner of the dorm, hugging a pillow and grinding frantically against it.

 That was the last time you went to camp.

 Could it be because of Thomas? Is that why your body is reacting so strongly?

 Growling in frustration, you reach for your bag and grope inside for your pills. The doctors only advise taking three pills in a single day under extreme circumstances, but being under the same roof as an alpha as intimidating as Thomas Hewitt strikes you as pretty damn extreme. It takes you almost three whole minutes to realise the awful truth – the pills aren’t there. You know you put them back in the inside pocket earlier, the same place you always do. They’re definitely gone.

 Your heart starts pounding and you feel that prickling sense of danger creep over you again. It would have been easy for Hoyt, Monty, or even Thomas to come in here and take the pills while you were downstairs helping Luda. Which means they know. Perhaps you were kidding yourself that you could lie to them.

 You decide not to take any chances. Even without your car, there was no way you could stay here. Your parents would understand. Perhaps you could even call the cops when you got to the next town and ask them to fetch it for you. Gathering your belongings as quietly as possible, you open the door just a crack and peer out down the darkened hallway. All is still. You manage to make no sound all the way to the top of the stairs, taking care not to step in the centre of each step as you tiptoe down.

 You’re almost at the door when you hear it – a low, keening moan.

 You turn glacially slowly to look at the basement door. You could kid yourself that it was a dog, but you know in your bones that’s not the case.

 “Please . . .” the voice calls plaintively. A girl. “Help me . . .”

 Fear washes over you like a bucket of ice water. You should go – you know you should go. The door is right in front of you.

 “Pleeeeease . . .” the voice sobs.

 Your parents’ faces swim before your eyes. You think of what they’d suffer were you to never come home. You brother, your sister, your friends . . .

 “Oh God, help me . . .”

 “God damn it,” you whisper through gritted teeth. With a quick glance upstairs, you tread as light as a spider down the corridor towards the basement. The girl’s voice gets louder – it’s definitely coming from down there. The door is unlocked when you twist the handle, pulling it towards you just enough to slip inside and down the rickety steps beyond. A large pool of water is gathered at the foot of the stairs, too large for you to avoid. You wince as the damp soaks through your sneakers and socks.

 Two large hunks of meat are hanging from hooks along the wall. You think they may have once been pigs, though the head and limbs are all hacked away. You find the girl – a petite blonde in a short blue dress – on a filthy mattress, roped to a pipe in one corner of the room. She looks as though she’s been there for days, weeks, even. Her skin is bruised, and you can tell by her frightened scent that she’s a beta. You can also smell Hoyt’s potent musk on her – in her hair, in the smears of congealed fluid between her legs.

 She smells you before she sees you, eyes searching disbelievingly in the half-dark. You quickly stifle her mouth with your hand before she cries out.

 “Keep quiet, okay?” you hiss. You pick at the tightly-knotted rope, breaking a fingernail in your attempt to untie it. “Fuck.”

 “Oh God,” she gasps.

 “Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna—”

 “NO!” she screams, her body falling into a fit of panicked flailing. Her eyes are big and brimming with fear, staring over your shoulder.

 The scent reaches you just before Thomas’s fingers do.

 You duck and back away from the captured girl, who continues screaming like she’s being sliced apart. Every nerve in your body is yelling at you to flee, to fight, to do anything besides what you are doing – which is staring like a deer in headlights up at Thomas approaching you. His scent is almost overpowering, and despite the terror seizing you, you feel a warm stream of slick trickling down the inside of your thigh.

 He gives a sharp intake of breath and rumbles deep in his chest. Your knees tremble, and you unconsciously breathe in the heady aroma surrounding the enormous man. Your breath shudders as it leaves you. Your instincts are commanding you to stay, to submit, to give yourself to this alpha; you can already feel your body leaning into him.

 The basement door slams open and Hoyt’s angry voice preceeds his heavy footsteps.

 “Nuff of this dang caterwauling, some of us’re tryin’ to sleep!”

 He stops dead at the wall of scent surrounding you, and a sly grin takes over his rugged features. “Well, lookee here.”

 Reaching inside his pocket, he pulls out a small foil strip that you recognise instantly.

 “Guess somebody’s not just a plain ole beta after all, huh?”

 “You asshole,” you spit, your disdain for Hoyt overriding your lust for just a moment.

 “That’s not very polite now, is it?” he says. He moves casually towards the whimpering blonde, who stares in terrified anticipation up at him. He reaches down and strokes her hair, and she cringes away from his touch. “Tommy, why don’t you teach this little bitch a lesson in manners?”

 Thomas takes two short strides towards you, but you dart out from under his grasp and sprint towards the stairs. The girl you’re abandoning screams after you, but all you can think of now is to escape, battling the nagging tug at the back of your mind that’s still desperately reaching out for Thomas.

 You somehow make it up the steps and through the door, your footsteps crashing on the boards as you fly down the hall. You throw your entire weight against the front door, splintering the wood surrounding the lock as you burst out into the night.

 You breathe in lungfuls of air as you sprint across the field, heading for the road. You’ve never been a fast runner, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins has you practically leaping like a gazelle. Your feet catch on stones and loose earth, threatening you with a fall, but you just manage to keep your balance. The sound of pounding footsteps behind you sends a sharp spike of fear into your gut, and if you weren’t running you may have vomited.

 You vaguely recognise another sound – a deep, mechanical roar – but you don’t want to risk glancing over your shoulder to see if it is what you think. He’s getting closer, you can smell him, you can hear his laboured breathing, you can feel his fingers grasping at your hair—

 He overshoots you by a good ten strides when you fall to the ground, scraping your hands and knees on hard soil. Turning to face your supine form, he brandishes the growling chainsaw clutched in his massive hands.

 You’re dead. You must be. How can you possibly expect any other outcome from this situation? Scrambling to your knees, you try to rise, but the metal teeth of the chainsaw brush too close; you can almost taste your own blood. Thomas’s eyes, black with rage, focus on you. His chest is heaving, his muscular arms flexing as he prepares to deal the killing blow—

 “Alpha!” you shriek, the word spilling from your tongue before you can recognise its meaning. “Alpha, please!”

 He freezes, arms aloft, staring down at you in surprise and disbelief.

 You crawl forwards, reaching out a shaking hand to touch his booted foot. “Please . . . p-please don’t kill me.”

 He glances up towards the house. You can tell he’s not used to making decisions without approval, but Hoyt isn’t here to spit poison in his ear.

 “I’ll . . . I’ll be yours.” You can’t believe the words you’re saying. “Please, alpha . . . you can have me. I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t kill me.”

 He steps back and shakes his head angrily, but not in refusal – more like he’s trying to rid your honeyed words from his head as a bull might dislodge a persistent fly. Taking your life in your hands, you slowly rise to your feet and proffer your sweating hands towards him; the scent from your wrists glands is strong, unavoidable. The chainsaw powers down, and his arms slowly fall to waist-height. You take careful hold of one wrist and detach his fingers from the chainsaw handle. Keeping your gaze locked with his, you part your dry lips and press the flat of your tongue against his own wrist, licking a long, slow stripe. His skin is salty with sweat, the musk beneath deep and earthy, hitting the back of your throat like spice. You feel a shudder pass through his body and go one step further – baring your teeth just enough to nip the tender, swollen skin. The chainsaw falls heavily to the ground as he grabs you, one hand twisting the skin of your wrist, the other securing the back of your neck, fingers knotted in your hair. You stare up at him, heart dancing, skin tingling, fear and lust seeking dominance in your stomach. His teeth are bared behind the gap in his mask, his brow furrowed in bewildered rage and desire. You lift the hand still free from his grip and, as tenderly as though handling a baby sparrow, touch the gland at the nape of his neck. The skin is raised and warm, and his eyes close almost in reverence at the contact.

 “What in Lord’s name’re you doin’, boy?!” Hoyt’s furious voice startles you both. He’s hurrying up behind you, shotgun under one arm, glaring between you and Thomas.

 In a swift, one-handed movement, Thomas pulls you flush against his body, your nose filling with the metallic scent of blood imbedded in his apron – which, it occurs to you, is undoubtedly human blood.

 Hoyt stops in his tracks, assessing the situation before him. You, pliant and submissive in Thomas’s arms; Thomas, dominant and possessive, ready to protect you from the threat Hoyt poses. The older man sighs, chuckling softly.

 “Well, I’ll be damned.” Swinging the shotgun to rest on his shoulder, he shakes his grizzled head. “Y’sure, Tommy? She’d taste mighty sweet with Mama’s hot biscuits.”

 Thomas’s grip tightens and you whimper – he’s about to break your wrist. His fingers immediately loosen, and you see a flash of what could almost be called concern cross his face. Hoyt rolls his eyes and turns, heading back towards the farmhouse.

 “Come on, then.”

 Before you can protest, Thomas sweeps you up into a bridal embrace, pressing your body against his broad chest. Tears prick your eyes as you’re brought back to the place you fought so hard to escape from. As you’re carried over the threshold, Hoyt shoots you a nasty grin.

 “Welcome to the family, Little Miss Omega.”    

~

Comments are greatly appreciated because I’m a needy little trashbag.               

[sweetestlamb]

Temptation

Summary: Vincenzo is feeling parched.

Author's note: These two have been living in my mind rent free lately, I'm just shallow and they look so damn good together and when you add the chemistry, well I'm a goner. Just a little drabble based on today's episode, I'm taking a break from BMTL this weekend because it's going to be another 10k probably and it's the first weekend I'm off with my bf so I promised not to ignore him to write all day lol. Update soon though!

Bon appetit!

Wispy dark lashes flutter just above her high cheekbones as she awaits the blow, her pretty face scrunched up in anticipation as a minor twitch in her lip distracts him.

That's been happening far too often lately, more than he'd care to admit. It was easier when she was blindly following Babel and refused to see the insidious truth about the morally bankrupt company, it was easier to pacify his attraction when she was the bad guy. Not that he was the right candidate to judge, he'd done notifiable heinous things in his life. Her father had been the first person to look at him like he was worth something, like the evil that lurked under his skin could be used for something good.

But her eyes had been opened, in the end she had chosen her father. If only he'd been here to see it.

That decision unhinges the small grapple he has on his control, he finds himself looking at her all the time cataloging the many emotions that distort that expressive face. She's like a living caricature and instead of finding that off-putting he's intrigued and mesmerized. Constantly battling with his lips that won't stop rising in her presence, he's not someone who smiles lightly. Has never had much of a reason to.

Until now.

"What are you waiting for? Just do it." She whines impatiently, squirming side to side and pursing her full lips.

That small move captures all his attention, eyes locked on the rosy pink skin. Instinctively he steps forward until he can feel her body heat, her face is even more captivating up close. She was beautiful, that wasn't hard to admit he was a man after all and his eyes were functional. It was.... everything else that he couldn't admit, not even to himself.

Just do it.

If only she knew what those words did to him, he felt as if he was lit in flames by his own lighter; burning up just from his prolonged vicinity to the loud lawyer. She was being her usual brazen self but she had no idea, not the slightest inkling of what exactly he wanted to do to her. It usually ended in passionate screams in his dreams. Her wild abandon was a thing of beauty, he didn't even mind the mess on his silk sheets because his mind supplied such vivid imaginings.

Staring down at her he wonders how she would taste, perhaps like the spicy noodles she was so fond of or maybe something sweeter and forbidden, once you peeled back the many layers you would discover something so delicious it was addicting. She would be his ambrosia.

"Come on, you're killing me! What's taking so long?" She grumbles now pouting, plush bottom lip jutting out enticingly and his finger hovers in front of her forehead but he can't move, can't bring himself to hurt her no matter how insignificant the hit. Somehow this woman has weaved a web around him, he feels like a fly caught in a spider's deadly but beautiful trap.

What's wrong with me?

There must be indeed something wrong with him because he feels his hand unfurling and lowering until he's nearly cupping her jaw, the delicate point barely above his hand. He's so tempted. Taking another step forward he lifts his second hand, curling around the dip of her lower back. She's so petite despite her loud bark, her entire body could fit easily in his hand.

He wants to lower his hand, grab her face and her waist and.... And what? What is he thinking? This is not why he came to Korea. He wasn't supposed to get involved more than he needed to and he knows no good can come of this, there's only one outcome for men who are lured by seductive sirens. He has to ignore her song no matter how much his body aches when he's with her. Woman have never been elusive in his line of work, gorgeous Italian women who opened up for him easily, surrendering under his capable hands. They were nothing but a good time, a perfunctory scratching of an itch. But, Cha-young he wants to wreck her, take her apart piece by piece until she's putty in his hands.

"What are you doing?" She says sounding amused and he lifts his eyes to find her twinkling ones already on his face. She looks at the twin hands hovering above her body with a raised brow, face now turned into the hand adjacent to her cheek.

"Do you want to change the specifics of our deal?" She teases darkly and he gulps, finally lowering his hands but twisting them around his back to prevent himself from making a huge mistake.

"No." He lies, trying to douse the fire that is blazing in his blood.

"Aishhh. You're such a bad liar." She huffs, nose crinkled up in disbelief and he hates the way his heart smarts his lips twitching to form a smile. He feels so warm and he doesn't know what any of it means.

"Come here." She doesn't give him an opportunity to disobey before reaching out to grab his tie, her hands wrapped around the luxurious material and with a sharp tug he's pulled into her, their bodies colliding and everything feels right.

"Stop." He whispers throat feeling raw, his voice comes out rougher than he intended. His eyes widen at the red flush that it yields, he's not the only one affected it seems.

"You don't want to flick me," she states with certainty, eyes searching his face as she tightens her hold on his tie his neck strains under the slight pressure, leaning down to lessen the tension. Too late he releases how much closer that brings their faces, she's barely an inch away from him now her soft puffs of breath landing directly on his face. "What do you want to do to me instead, Mr. Cassano?" She boldly finishes her statement, dark eyes ping ponging between his lips and his eyes.

Mentally berating himself for his weakness he suddenly grabs her waist, his arm circumvents the entire circumference with room to spare. She gasps in surprise but doesn't look scared, rather she looks curious, biting her bottom lip as she earnestly watches him.

"Do you really want to know?" He bites out, bringing his hand to her jaw and then sliding lower curling it around her neck, fingers tickling the soft nape of head.

She smirks, unflinching in the eye of his storm. She stands on the tips of her toes, bringing them that much closer, "Oh you don't know how much I want to know, Vincenzo." His name is exotic on her tongue, the letters not quite settling correctly but it sounds delectable to his ears, he wants to hear her scream it loudly too.

"I'll show you then." He's done with words, it's clear that they're both cognizant of what's happening between them, the air is so charged it's nearly crackling. She isn't backing down and despite his better judgement he doesn't want to lose, he can't be the way to pull away now. Simultaneously they yank each other closer, him by her neck and her by his tie. He sees the passion in her eyes, finally bursting to the surface and that's all the consent he needs, if she wants him too then she can have him.

Twisting his head he surges forward, eager to capture her lips and devour her moans of pleasure, his hand is now curled possessively around the small swell of her tight posterior, her suit pants always putting it beautifully on display. He had been hungry to touch it, grab it and feel the plumpness in his hands. It's every bit as amazing as he's imagined, her lips fall open as he squeezes at the flesh and he leans forward prepared to eat her alive.

She wraps her free arm around his neck, dragging him down to meet her and he easily lifts her off the ground, grinning boyishly when she squeaks releasing his tie to wrap both arms around his neck, their faces are now level. His hand remains on her ass.

Silently they move towards each other, intent crystal clear.

He can feel the heat from her lip, just as he grazes the smooth skin he hears a loud crash from behind them and they both jump, foreheads knocking accidentally as they react to the sudden sound.

He unceremoniously drops her, but her arms still latched around his shoulder force him forward making his forehead now collide with her chin. She lets out a loud scream of pain, shoving him away and shouting obscenities. He rubs at the pained skin, wincing in discomfort before turning towards the loud interruption with a murderous glare.

Who the fuck was it?

Nam Joo-Sung stands quivering in apparent fear looking like he's seconds away from urinating himself, his knees knocking together viciously.

A deer in the headlights, his eyes are as huge and terrified as one.

"I--um well you see.... I forgot to water the plants....you both look angry. Scary. You don't want an explanation. I'm going. Gone. I'll just. Go." He stutters out nonsensical, suddenly grabbing the plants and he watches as the frightened man awkwardly lifts the pots, cursing when the soil falls out dirting his clothes and the wooden floors, then he falls to his knees scooping it back into the pots, crawling backwards until he's out the door.

They both stare at the door.

Awkward silence remaining even with the man's departure.

And then a vibration fills the air, she jumps as if broken from her stupor reaching into her tiny bag and retrieving her phone. He can barely hear her over the beating of his own heart but he catches the disappointed look she sends his way, they can't continue this.

"Yes. I understand, we'll be right there."

Grabbing his briefcase he takes a moment with his back turned to her to catch his breath, collect himself. He's Vincenzo Cassano, not some prepubescent teenager. He can control himself, control is his middle name.

Then he turns back around and loses all his hard worked composure.

She's right in his space, rubbing absently at her neck as she looks at him.

"We'll finish this later. Don't think I'm going to let you off easy, I always finish what I start." She promises, pointedly looking his lips before grinning then boldly she lightly smacks him twice on his cheeks, "Pick your jaw off the ground, we have to go."

Her long hair bounces over her shoulder as she skips away, his eyes locked on the hypnotic sway of her hips. Her hands are cutely by her side, her signature walk that he had found ridiculous before. He doesn't view it the same way now.

Next time, there will be no interruptions he will make sure of it. Even if he has to kill someone.

[staticscreenwriting]

LOVE LIKE THE MOVIES // BUCKY BARNES // 4

Four - Casablanca

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

“ You dressed up! “

God damnit. He should’ve known. He really should’ve. Sam stands by his side, shit-eating grin splitting his face in two. He should’ve just worn a plain sweater and no one would’ve commented on it.

But then would she look at him with that joyful sparkle in her eyes and that gorgeous smile? Maybe the little dressing up that he did do, and all the teasing comments from Sam, are worth it if means she’ll look at him like that.

“I didn’t dress up.” Doesn’t mean he has to admit it. No now, not ever.

“ Uh, your jeans are cuffed. You’ve never done that!” (Y/N) points out to which Sam chimes in with a loud “that’s what I said!” words dripping with amusement.

“ It’s just my jeans, it’s not a big deal.”

“ And you quiffed your hair!”

Bucky glances towards Sam who stands beside him with the biggest smile any person has ever displayed in all the times humans have walked this earth. His joy at Bucky’s obvious discomfort knowing no boundaries and, if it weren’t at his own expense, Bucky would even find Sam’s amusement quite contagious.

“ You totally did! He totally did! I didn’t even notice. Hi,” he says and shakes (Y/N)’s hand “ I’m Sam.”

“ So nice to meet you, Sam. And you dressed up too! As a sexy Ghostbuster!”

Bucky can basically feel Sam’s ego inflate at those words and he knows, for a fact, he’ll never hear the end of it.

“ That’s right! I am a sexy Ghostbuster. Not a regular one. That’s exactly what I was going for, thank you. Man, I love her already.” Sam says, directed at both, (Y/N) but mostly at Bucky.

“ You look lovely too, by the way,” Sam points out and for the first time since they arrived, Bucky gives himself a moment to take her in entirely. Not just the little things, the twinkle in her eyes, the warm radiance of her smile. Her. All of her.

The blue and white checkered pinafore dress she’s wearing reaches down to her knees, her legs are covered by white knee-high socks and at her feet, a pair of ruby red heels sparkle as the light reflects against them.

She looks beautiful but what really makes Bucky’s heart skip just a tiny fraction of a beat is the fact that he knows who she’s supposed to be and, whether she did it purposefully or not doesn’t matter, he feels included for the first time in so long.

“ You’re Dorothy.” his lips produce words that his brain didn’t sign off on. They just slip out. They hold so much weight that even if he’d acted fast enough, he doesn’t think he would’ve been able to hold them back. They’re so seemingly insignificant but they hold a meaning that Bucky isn’t sure anyone will ever fully comprehend. Steve would’ve but Steve is — not here.

He hopes (Y/N) understands even a small fraction of what it means to him. And when she smiles, he thinks she might.

“ I am. Do you like it?”

“ You look beautiful. “ And she does. She really does.

Sam is grinning away like he’s just heard the best news and Bucky isn’t sure if he prefers this to his outright laughter at his discomfort or not. This smirk seems like some inside joke Bucky doesn’t get. Like Sam knows something he doesn’t.

“ Can I get you guys something to drink? Beers? “

“ That would be great “ Sam replies.

“ Grumpy? “

“ Sure.”

He can’t get drunk, that’s one of the little things the Serum changed about him. It’s not like he’s here to get drunk anyway but to feel the enthusiastic buzz that alcohol can wash through your system, would be nice. He hardly remembers what that felt like.

He’s gonna drink some beer either way though. It gives him the feeling of fitting in, of belonging with the crowd. Even if he knows that’s one big lie. Sometimes you have to lie to yourself to keep your heart from breaking.

Kim isn’t a friend. Not really. She’s a friend of a friend who somehow always tags along whenever (Y/N)’s friend group gets together. She’s never actually invited but she’s always there anyway. Tonight is no exception.

She’s dressed in some kind of last-minute DIY deer costume, one of those that have been popular a few years back on Youtube, and the way she smirks at (Y/N) as she enters the kitchen already makes the metaphorical alarm bells go off in (Y/N)’s head.

“ So, I didn’t know you know celebrities. “

“ What are you talking about, Kim? “

“ Oh, you know! “ Kim announces and slides up next to (Y/N), casually leaning against the kitchen counter. “ Do you think he can do some cool tricks with his metal arm? “

“ Who are you talking about? “

Obviously (Y/N) is well aware of who Kim is talking about. There’s only so many people with metal arms and only one of them finds himself at this very party. Still, she doesn’t give Kim the satisfaction of reacting to her ridiculous comment. Maybe, (Y/N) naively hopes, repeating her question will make Kim realize just how rude and offensive her words really are.

“The winter soldier! Who else. That’s him, isn’t it? “

“ No.”

“ You sure? I’m pretty certain that’s him.”

“ His name is Bucky!” (Y/N) clarifies, fixing Kim with a stare that conveys just how serious this is to her. “ And he is not some kind of circus freak or entertainer or something. He is my friend. “

Kim shrugs her shoulders so casually that it sends shivers of red hot rage through (Y/N)’s body. The audacity of this woman. “ Okay sure but he is the Winter Soldier, right? I don’t know why you’re acting so sensitive right now. Chill, girl.”

“ Fuck you, Kim. You are so disrespectful towards my friend. He’s so sweet and genuine and wonderful and he deserves to be seen for all that he is. He is not here for you to stare at like a caged animal and he sure as hell ain’t here to be reminded of his painful past. If you can’t treat him like a normal person, please leave. “

There’s a look on Kim’s face that (Y/N) hasn’t seen on her before. One of utter disbelief. One that lets her know that this was the last thing Kim was expecting. And for a little moment, a huge wave of triumphant enthusiasm crashes over her.

“ Whatever.” is all Kim replies once the shock has settled. With a pout on her lips, she shuffles out of the kitchen and back into the crowd. (Y/N) can’t tell for sure if she’s leaving but there’s no doubt in her mind that at least she won’t be harassing Bucky anytime soon.

A bitter taste settles on (Y/N) tongue, as she thinks about Kim’s words again. About the sick and twisted thoughts that reduce Bucky to little more than a human animatronic. It’s disgusting and so so sad and she just hopes Bucky hasn’t heard her say those things.

As she steps out of the kitchen and rounds the corner though, her hopes are squashed. There’s the usual pain on his face, the one that’s perpetually etched into his features as Bucky leans against the wall. But mixed in between, there’s something else. A confusing mess of emotions she can’t quite place. She knows though. He’s heard every last word.

“ Robin came over, started talking to Sam about some band I don’t know. Thought I’d come see if you need some help. “

“ Bucky, I — “

“ It’s fine.” He interrupts her. (Y/N) doesn’t think it’s really fine. Sometimes people just get so used to saying they feel fine, they actually start believing it. Only fine is not something you want to feel forever, is it? Fine shouldn’t be a permanent state. Fine should be temporary. A path to good. To great. To happy.

“ You sure? “

“ Yeah. I uh — I appreciate what you said.”

“ Oh sure. And I meant it. You’re my friend and you deserve all the good things life has to offer.”

He doesn’t know if he agrees with that sentiment. No, in fact, he’s sure that he doesn’t agree. While he is free of the pain that bound him to Hydra, he will never be entirely free of the guilt his past has put on him. One, he thinks, makes him undeserving of so many things. Like friends. Like happiness. Like love.

And yet it’s nice to know that other people see in him what he may never see in himself.

“ Now let’s go rescue Sam before Robin ropes him into some kind of wedding preparations.”

She says, hands Bucky a bottle, and then grabs his free hand to pull him towards the other side of the room where Robin, dressed as Jessica Rabbit, gestures around wildly as she talks to Sam.

At first, (Y/N) doesn’t even realize it but then she notices that the hand holding hers feels different. It’s not as soft to the touch as a hand usually is. The glove is warm and smooth under her skin but she wishes she could touch the metal. It’s not some kind of weird, misplaced fetishization or some sensationalism. It’s the fact that the arm is a part of Bucky as much as his eyes or his smile or his perpetual grumpiness. And she wants to know every part of him for they make him who he is, and who he is is wonderful.

3 hours.

It’s been 3 hours since they arrived at the party. 3 hours of music he doesn’t get from artists he doesn’t know. 3 hours of staying painfully sober while everyone around him gets exponentially more drunk. 3 hours of pretending not to notice the looks he’s getting.

3 hours and then it got too much. He’s well aware that this isn’t his time. By all means, he shouldn’t be here. Not like this. Stuck in a body that doesn’t match his actual age. Forever reminded of the fact that he’s not meant to be here. Usually, he tries to ignore that. Tries to learn about new things, tries to understand.

This party puts a mirror right in front of his face though. Makes it painfully obvious that this is not where he belongs.

What a party pooper he is. He’d hate himself. If his old self could see him now, standing alone on a balcony because he didn’t like the music inside. His old self would think of him as a coward. His old self is probably right.

“ Grumpy, what are you doing out here, all by yourself?”

For a second the music from the inside spills through the doors and into the serene night, only to be cut off a second later when (Y/N) steps onto the balcony and closes the door behind her.

“ Are you not having fun? “

“ It’s not that. It’s just —”

Just what? Bucky has no idea how to put it into words. It’s moments like this one where having Steve around would be so helpful. He’d understand and he’d know what to say. Steve always knew what to say. Steve just didn’t know when to shut up.

“ You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Ever.” (Y/N) says and bumps him with her shoulder as she leans against him looking out at the New York skyline.

“ I appreciate it.”

“ I was hoping you’d like my costume,” (Y/N) confesses after a moment. “ I feel like I tell you so much about all these movies you missed out on and I don’t know, maybe it’s silly, but I wanted you to feel in the know for once. Does that make sense? “

Bucky bites his lip for everything he wants to say is not something you tell someone you’ve only just befriended a few weeks ago. Never has he felt the need to spill his heart, with all his sorrows and fears and dreams, to anyone. Not until tonight. But it’s too much to burden her with. He can hardly carry the weight himself. To put it on her would be an awfully selfish thing to do.

So he just nods his head and smiles and he says “thank you” like it doesn’t mean anything when really it means the world.

“ Okay well, since I can’t bring you to the party — “ (Y/N) says and fumbles her phone from her dress pocket “ — I’ll just have to bring the party to you.”

For a moment she just types away on the screen before a familiar tune sounds from the speakers of her phone. A familiar tune, to Bucky. One he remembers dancing to when he was a whole other man.

Glenn Miller’s Moonlight Cocktail fills the air and Bucky’s lips unwillingly lift into a smile.

“ If I remember correctly,” (Y/N) says and reaches out her hand to him “ you owe me a dance.”

Bucky laughs and shakes his head, but grabs a hold of her hand anyway “That’s not how it works. You can’t just say someone owes you something simply because you want it.”

She’s so close now. He can see the lights reflecting in her eyes, can feel her chest lift with every breath she takes.

Here’s the thing about loneliness. After a while, you get used to it. It becomes a part of your life, of yourself, like breathing and sleep. You don’t even realize that you’re missing something. Until one day you’re chest to chest with a beautiful girl who thinks you’re wonderful and worthy of her friendship. And it’s then that you realize how lonely you were and how much it hurts and how much you’ve been missing the touch of another.

“ I’ve always wanted to dance through the night. Ever since I’ve first seen Moulin Rouge in the cinema.” (Y/N) says and they start to slowly but surely sway to the music. It’s tentative steps at first, shy and unsure. Barely there moves but there after all.

Sometimes it’s enough for things to be small. The big moments, the important ones don’t need to be big at all. Some of the most important ones don’t demand a lot of space and yet they take up all the space in your heart.

“ Do you remember your first time seeing a movie at the cinema? “ she asks, looking up at him with her starlight eyes.

It’s not a memory he can recall. It’s one of those that have been lost in the shuffle. Like a sweater you love that’s been lost in the laundry or a picture frame gone missing during a move.

“ I don’t. I do remember my last trip to the cinema though.”

“Yeah? What was it?”

This memory is so vivid, it could’ve happened yesterday. He remembers the old dusty velvet seats. He remembers the propaganda spot shown before the movie, the one that put a feeling in his gut as if he’d just swallowed a sack of bricks, now knowing what was to happen but expecting it. He remembers Ruth Dillinger and her gorgeous blond hair and the way it smelled like soap and flowers. And he remembers the movie.

“ Casablanca. Saw it on a date with a girl.”

“ Aw, you took her on a movie date? Lucky girl. “

“ I don’t know if I’d go that far. I wasn’t half as respectable of a guy back then. Was more interested in sneaking a kiss in the dark than taking her to see a good movie. “

“ Did you do the whole, yawning-arm-around-the-shoulder thing?”

“ Obviously.”

“ Oh, you were just a regular casanova, Mr. Barnes? “

“ For sure. “

New York feels alive with the power of possibility. Of a night being more than a night. Of small moments being big and big moments being so tiny and intimate and small. New York feels alive with emotions. Ones Bucky doesn't understand and couldn’t understand. But either way, he feels happier in that tiny insignificant moment than he had in a long time.

“ I’ve never seen Casablanca.”

At that confession, Bucky pushes away from her a little so he can properly look at her, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“ What? It’s a classic. I have good reasons for not having seen most of your movie recommendations, what’s your excuse? “

She smiles bashfully and shrugs her shoulders “ I really don’t know. I just never got around to it. I feel like it’s such an important movie, it asks for a special occasion. Like seeing it at some fancy cinema or in concert or something. You know? “

Bucky only chuckles before pulling her close for another soft sway around the balcony.

Only the serenity doesn’t last very long as the aggressive drumming of some EDM song penetrates the quiet and Sam steps out onto the balcony.

“ Hi guys, uh — am I interrupting something ?”

“ No, no. That’s alright” (Y/N) exclaims, sounding a little flustered as she pulls away from Bucky and presses pause on her phone, plunging them all in silence.

“ I’m gonna get going in a moment. Need to catch an early flight tomorrow morning. “

“ Aw, so soon? Well okay but it was so nice to meet you Sam. You’re welcome at any future party or just drop in at the diner whenever you’re around.” (Y/N) says and pulls him into a hug.

“ I will don’t worry. Told you, I like you already.”

They share another quick hug before (Y/N) excuses herself to get Sam’s jacket from another room, leaving Sam and Bucky alone on the balcony.

“ Do not say a word!” Bucky orders as he notices yet another grin forming on Sam’s face.

“ I didn’t say anything.”

“ But you want to. I can see it.”

“ What would I possibly say, Buck? That you’ve got it bad? You know that yourself. “

“ It’s not like that.”

“ Okay, if you say so. “ Sam complies and lets another silence fall over them.

That’s until he speaks up yet again “ You dance. Man, I can’t believe it. Hey, can you waltz?”

“ Shut up! “

The party is slowly but surely winding down. A lot of people have left by now.

Some are asleep on the couch. On the floor. Against the wall.

A few are still lingering around, talking in low voices. Slurred words, tired eyes, light hearts.

Bucky tries not to step on anyone as he maneuvers his way around the apartment, trying to find the room where (Y/N) put all the jackets. It’s time for him to go, no matter how much he wants to hold onto the moment. He’s tired and the party is as good as over. And anyway, he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in a while.

“ Psst, Grumpy“

(Y/N) peeks out from behind a door, beckoning him closer. As he steps into the room he’s embraced by a warm amber glow coming from a string of fairy lights that frame one wall.

On her bed, (Y/N) sits and leans against the headboard, balancing a laptop on her legs. The wall behind her is covered in photographs. Some of her, some of people he doesn’t know. There are pictures taken at concerts, theme parks, the beach. She’s smiling in most of them. Happy. Memories of a lifetime forever caught on film.

This, Bucky realizes then, is something he wants. Not right now but eventually. To make memories. Ones that last. Ones that don’t get taken away from him. And someone to make those memories with him.

“ Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” Bucky asks as she pats the blanket and he sits down on the bed next to her.

“ I’ve been looking for this movie and I finally found a decent copy we can watch.”

“ Now? “

“ Yes now. It’s supposed to be a really good one. I think you’ll like it. “

Bucky’s tired. He honestly just wants to go home and try to find at least a few hours of sleep. But she does it again, that thing where she smiles and his heart does the weird fluttery thing. And he can’t say no to that. Why would he ever want to say no to that?

So he scoots backward to rest against the headboard as well and his eyes take in the swirly white font on the screen spelling out Casablanca over the black and white image of a map of Africa.

His smile won’t be suppressed anymore. It takes over his face like it belongs right there.

"Thought you were waiting for a special occasion?"

“ I was and I found it. Now, what’s the romantic lesson I can learn from this one? “ (Y/N) asks as her head comes to rest on his right shoulder.

Bucky considers it for a moment, tries to recall exactly what happens. Some details are fuzzy, some lost altogether. But he remembers the core of it all. The love shared between two people.

“ It is about sacrificing the thing you want most in life to make sure the people you love are safe and happy. It’s about putting the one you love above yourself and breaking your own heart in order to keep theirs from breaking. Love is selfless, never selfish. And love is worth it. I think that’s what it’s about. “

“ That’s a lovely sentiment. But so sad too.”

Bucky only nods in agreement and as the title credits roll he wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to really figure out love. To fall for someone and love them so much he’d give up everything to see them happy. Even himself.

Though they call it the city that never sleeps, New York seems to grow tired. It grows calm and quiet and maybe for a second it falls into a slumber in the same way that both Bucky and (Y/N) fall asleep, cuddled up on her bed, while Ingrid Bergman flies away on a plane and Humphry Bogard walks into the black of night.

Bucky hasn’t slept in a bed in months in fear of nightmares and terrors lurking in the dark corner of his mind.

That night he doesn’t have nightmares. In fact that night he dreams. Of slow dancing on a balcony with only the stars bearing witness to the moment. He dreams of red slippers and fairy lights and black and white movies.

That night he doesn’t have nightmares. Only sweet dreams.

Taglist // if you want to be added or taken off just message me :) //:

@zaynzierulez // @je-like-you // @dracoxxyoflam // @jackiehollanderr // @majo240820 // @kay-gilles // @booksb4looksstuff // @jckie94 // @charmed-asylum // @shawnie--jo // @yllwtaxi // @tailsoflightning //@giuliarogers

[mistabullets]

i also want alucard to rail me ! could i perhaps suggest,,, alucard with a chubby s/o,,, as wholesome or nasty as you desire

A Taste of You

Characters: Alucard | Adrian Tepes x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Alucard decides to show his love for you.

Content Warning: n/s/f/w, afab reader but neutral pronouns, chubby reader, virgin reader, reader is a witch, vaginal finger, slight blood drinking (he just accidentally nip your lips), slight virginity and corruption kink (???), and post season 3 but it’s quite fluffy so don’t worry

Note: There wasn’t any railing involved but you gave me a reason to write some indulgent smut with Alucard and for that, I appreciate you. 

Not SFW under cut ; 

You let out a quiet gasp when the dhampir’s careful lips meet the warm skin from the column of your neck, tensing slightly as it sends tingles down your spine. He laughs at your small reaction, finding it adorable; a lithe hand running down your side to ease the fluttering anxiety and reel you into his ghost kisses. “Relax, my dear… I just want to make you feel good.”

Considerate as always, you think, despite the growing erection brushing up against one of your thick thighs. He must feel uncomfortable to a degree since he is still in his trousers.

How odd it is, that fate led you to him.

You were a mere witch, hopping from town to town but never staying too long in fear that some close-minded individual would suspect your magical ability and report you to the church officials. However, the last particular town found out too soon of your sorcery. Before anyone could act and drag you to a stake to be tied up and burned, you packed your belongings and ran into the forests. You heard from the townsfolk how dangerous it was to roam those woods, especially at nighttime, that a particular vampire lived within the heart of it. However, you reasoned it must be some myth to scare the children or just something to make this dreadful town more interesting and have something to talk about.

Yet deeper into the greenwoods, the lingering smell of decaying death met your nostril. Again, you rationalized - this was the territory of wildlife. Perhaps it was a deer carcass nearby. Who knows? Now wasn’t the time to fret, as you heard voices bounce and echo from the trees, too far away but you could certainly pick up some words: witch, find, and a few curses. Without properly analyzing your surroundings, you picked up the pace, not considering directions and ignoring the fact the putrid scent grew stronger the further you went.

You were stopped in your tracks by a blur of red and a thunk to your head. Before the waves of unconsciousness dazed you, you caught a brief glimpse of golden locks and a pale figure. Perhaps the villagers had gotten you; perhaps this was your angel to guide you toward heaven. But can a witch such as yourself go to heaven, especially if you dabbled in the dark arts?

Well, considering where you are, beneath a beautiful man who carried a merciful soul that you did not deserve… this is the closest to any celestial afterlife you’ll ever be. It took months, perhaps even a year, to mend the wounds of his heart. You recall the first couple months here, living behind the closed doors of Castlevania. Alucard, who happened to be dhampir son of the late Dracula, wasn’t too enthusiastic about allowing another soul to inhabit, especially after being alone for nearly half a year. While you were polite to never ask questions, you eventually put two and two together upon catching a glimpse of the scar, from recent times, forever ingrained into his porcelain skin. No wonder he longed for some privacy. For they were a reminder of loss and betrayal, the day when he saw humanity’s corruption.

And while he’ll never fully forget the sin they committed, he came to realize his lapse of judgment. It stemmed from the unmerited tribulation - he was quick to close off his heart, not properly allowing himself grief, to process the trauma he’s been through.

But seeing how you still forgive the humans and long to aid them, despite them killing your coven, gradually made him realize how foolish he has been. He was reminded of his mother’s wisdom; how she was willing to be scrutinized by the church if it meant she could help others and spread her nurturing knowledge. You were willing to help those in need, despite the hardships humanity has gifted you. While it certainly took time, he was beginning to open his heart to you… and in return, you were showing him your vulnerability, culminating into this moment: you and Alucard, glowing under the moonlight, exploring each other’s bodies like new lands.

He kisses your plush lips again, mindful of his incisors. His hands find your plump breasts, giving them an experimental squeeze, relishing in the breathless gasp your voice elicits. Adrian withdraws himself from your mouth, savoring the taste of your lips; he wants to smother them, hear the symphony he can pull from you, but he wants to drink in your blushing form and the plush curves of your flesh against his muscled figure. The dhampir sees you as a goddess undeserving of him yet here you are, sprawled out and waiting for his next move. You find yourself more flustered than before, small and fragile beneath his resplendent eyes. His visage softens, noticing the doubt casting your lovely face. Adrian leans back down, resting his head against the middle of your breasts, the blood rushing through your veins sounding delicious. But oh, while your blood may be sweet, he wants to try the appetizers first.

“God, you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” he declares, lips peppering kisses on one of your breasts before finding a nipple to feast on. A shaky moan leaves your lips, your hands find themselves in his hair. Alucard makes sure to give each of your pert buds attention; suckling them in between his lips and gently pinching the sensitive skin with his lithe fingers. Your mind is swirling - how painful the virginal heat is between your legs, how merciful yet ruthless his touch is, how patient this angelic man is despite his own carnal desire, and how you love it and you love him. He allows your breasts to rest from the overstimulation; kisses explore your collarbone and neck while a curious hand searches for the heat radiating at the apex of your thighs. You whimper please at the feel of his hand against your now damp undergarment and your lover can’t help but chuckle at your eagerness. “Patience, my love.”

He rewards you a kiss, brushing strands of your hair away from your forehead. Your face is burning from how intently the dhampir observes each time your visage twists in newfound pleasure. A finger rubs up against your clothed slit, wishing to draw out more of your juices and lewd noises. “A-Adrian, please… t-touch me, please.”

“I am, my treasure,” he teases with amusement.

You whine, exasperated, and Alucard gives a playful grin. He understands what you mean but it’s fun to tease. Looking into your blown-out pupils, he asks for silent permission and you already know what he wants. You awkwardly lift up your hips so he can pull down your undergarments with ease. Once off, his fingers make contact with your naked mound, collecting the slick pooling from your heart and down your thighs. You’re eager to spread your legs further apart, allowing him access to more. He sighs, pride swelling how he is able to make you fall apart so quickly. After some painful slow strokes of your exposed slit, Alucard’s finger experimentally rubs your bundle of nerves, relishing in the moan of his name and how desperate yet demure it rings. Finding the entrance to your maidenhood with ease, he easily slips his index finger and god, that wail sounds ethereal. The dhampir sees how your entire form is quivering, from the tension and nerves, and he’s quick to litter your body with kisses and lovebites to distract your melting brain. You giggle a bit when a strand of his golden locks brushes against a ticklish spot and he’s glad to know you’re easing into his touch.

Adrian tentatively curls his finger in a come here motion - and after a few strokes, he finds that spot that makes your toes curl and makes you moan even louder. Your mind is foggy but you’re feeling confident, enjoying the way your lover is making you come undone - you plead for more. And so he adds another digit to your tight heat and repeats the same motion and experimenting more; scissoring your insides, burying his digits to the knuckle, and alternating these motions. You’re almost at the peak, he sees - with how your moans grow in volume, you’re bucking into his touch, and your e/c eyes swim in lust and adoration. His fingers pick up the pace, drinking in your divine image: soft and thick thighs spreading out more, lightning shape stretch marks adorning your cute belly and hips, and your chubby face contorting in the madness of pleasure as you imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you.

Wishing to relinquish you of this torture, he presses his thumb up against your clit and you’re seeing stars speckle your vision as strange pressure builds higher and higher to the cliff of your undoing. “A-Adrian, i-it’s too much! I-I’m going to, a-ahh--!”

Alucard rubs faster and harsher and thrust his fingers deeper - like he wants to feel every inch of the textured insides of your pussy. His forehead comes to rest on yours to admire your hungry eyes. Before you tumble from your peak, his lips crash against yours to consume the lovely noises, desperate and needy, and he accidentally bites your lips; but god, is your blood even sweeter in the glow of your climax. You didn’t even realize he’s grinding his groin against the mattress, too caught up the new sensation of Adrian’s fingers fucking your womanhood. If you could read minds, could you handle the extent of his ardor for you, a bashful witch? After seeing you wonderfully fall from your summit, Adrian truly believes he would die if he didn’t have more of you, if he couldn’t hear more of those needy keens, if he couldn’t pound you into oblivion, if he couldn’t--

His focus shifts from his lewd imagination to your glowing visage. From the dazed glisten of your eyes and the soft smile plastering your blood-smeared lips, Adrian could wait. Carefully, he pulls his fingers out of your sopping core, curiously bringing them up to his lips and lapping up the juices (much to your embarrassment), Alucard can’t help but laugh at your burning red face, planting his lips against yours and drinking up the remaining blood (the metallic taste of it combined with your juices made for a good combo).

“Do you need a break before we get to the main course, my beloved?”

He smiles at your cute face, steam particularly coming out of your ears.

But he smiles wider when you say no.

[maliby]

Diagnosis: Love (Finale) | Johnny’s route (M)

word count: 1.7k

warnings: smutty smut, explicit sex scene, explicit language, a little bit of choking (?)

summary: Y/N is the new nurse at NCT Hospital - the best hospital in the country. She was expecting it to be a big step in her career, but 'Bad Boy' Doctor Johnny Suh and 'Valentine' Pediatrician Jeong Jaehyun take her by surprise.

“Hey,” you greeted Johnny as you opened your front door to him.

“Hey,” he casually responded.

“Please, come in,” you moved out of the way to let him in, your heart filled with joy.

“You’ve redecorated since the last time I was here,” Johnny noted as he walked into your apartment.

“Yeah well, when your head’s a mess sometimes you feel like you need something new to cheer you up,” you explained as you closed the door and followed him to your couch.

“I see,” he commented, a nervous aura surrounding him. “And how’s your head now?” He asked, testing the waters.

“It’s better.”

“So...you’ve decided.”

He seemed on the fence about everything, which was understandable. For all he knew you could just be inviting him in to politely reject him and telling him you were getting with his best friend - but that wasn’t the case.

“It was the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever had to do, but yes, I’ve decided,” you sighed, remembering all the sleepless nights you went through in this past month but ultimately smiled at him, wanting to see his reaction. Johnny though was acting a little distant, as if he was protecting himself from a possible broken heart, and you couldn’t blame him. Honestly, you hated yourself for having to do this to one of them, but you had to.

“Alright, let’s hear it. Tell it to me straight, please.”

“Johnny,” you picked up his hand and felt him tense up, “I choose you.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I choose you,” you repeated, the look of disbelief and relief on his face making you smile.

“Me? But, I was like this huge ass player and I’ve fucked your friends and-”

“Yes, I know that, but you’ve changed and I love who you’ve become. I love the way you are when you are with me...”

“But-”

“Johnny fucking Suh, are you seriously trying to find excuses for me not to pick you?!” You mocked, knowing fully well he was just shocked. You honestly found it kind of endearing. 

“No, no, no,” he said as he scooched closer to you, his hands grabbing yours. “I’m sorry, I’m so happy you chose me, I just...I really wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” His words broke your heart. Did he honestly think he was so bad of a choice that he wouldn’t even have a chance? If only he knew how much you liked him...you would have to show him.

“Johnny...I love you.”

His eyes shot wide open like he was a deer caught in headlights. His expression then started to change from one of surprise to one of adoration and love, the warm and silly smile he was flashing you making your heart race. “Say that again.”

“Johnny Suh, I love you,” you repeated, this time more seriously.

Johnny got closer to you until your lips were a hair’s breadth away from each other and confessed: “I love you too.” His lips crashed onto yours as his hands began to wander under your shirt. His touch was so soft that it was leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

“Fuck I’ve missed you,” Johnny confessed as his hands moved upwards towards your breasts and started massaging them just the way you like it - with little pinching motions at the nipples.

Johnny knew your body so well. Ever since the first day you met and had sex you were an instant match. It was like your bodies already came programmed to pleasure one another.

“Take off your fucking shirt,” you ordered, making him smirk.

Johnny was a man that liked to take the lead in bed, no doubt about that but, he found it hot when you tried to be all bossy with him. Of course, he found it even hotter when he shut that bossiness down, but tonight he just wanted to be with you in any way he could so, with that in mind, he obeyed your command, flashing his toned body to you.

“Fuck, you’ve been working out more?” You asked as you shamelessly inspected every muscle on his upper body.

“Yeah,” he flexed his muscles just for you, the action making you jump right at him, your lips on his and your hands running over his defined abs.

“Johnny, you can’t do this to me,” you whined as you ground on the muscle of his thigh.

“What baby?” He asked in that damn sex voice he has.

“I want you to fuck the shit out of me,” your hand that was just now holding onto his other thigh for support slid up to his crotch and groped his erection through his black sweatpants.

“Yeah, you want that?” He hissed at the way you were feeling him up while you rode his thigh, his big hands moving to remove your shirt.

“Mhmm...”

“Why don’t you play with my cock while you ride my thigh like a good little girl?”

He took off your bra and threw it across the room, his lips immediately attacking your nipples by sucking, nibbling and licking them. You didn’t even answer him, as soon as he told you to do it your hand was already tugging on his clothes to free him.

“Fuck, your hands feel so good around my cock,” he cursed, leaving your breasts for a short moment to bend his head backwards in pleasure before he dived back in.

“I’m almost there,” you said as you picked up your pace both with your hands and with your hips.

“Yeah? Are you gonna make a mess out of your panties for me?” Johnny’s hands were now pressing hard against your hips, helping you reach your end.

“Yes baby, just for you,” you moaned as the feeling approached.

“Do it then, show me how much of a dirty girl you are and come on my thigh.”

“Fuck Johnny, I’m cummi-” you moaned as you contorted on top of Johnny, his arms embracing you as you came.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful when you cum,” he confessed to your hair once you stopped spasming.

“You know who else looks beautiful?” You asked.

“Who?”

“You. Why don’t you let me suck your cock?” You teased, the hand that had let go of him in the middle of your spasms now getting back to it, spreading the pre-cum over his red tip and making him hiss.

“Nope.” Johnny’s hand moved to your lips, playfully pinching the bottom one, “I haven’t had sex in more than a month, which to me is a lot. I’m not gonna last long and I want to cum inside your pretty little pussy.” He said as his other hand rubbed your pussy over your pants.

“Fuck, way to make me want you more.”

Johnny chuckled. His hand worked on unbuttoning your pants and sliding right under your underwear, immediately reaching your sensitive bud and making you go nuts. “Come and get it.”

That was all you needed. You got up, took off the rest of your clothes while Johnny did the same, and straddled him, your wet pussy now sitting directly on top of his rod.

“Wait, you got a condom?” He asked.

“Fuck the condom. I’m on the pill and I trust you,” you leaned in closer and softly kissed him in a loving gesture.

“I trust you too.”

You lifted yourself up a bit and watched as Johnny aligned himself right beneath you. He rubbed himself up a bit between your folds to collect your slick and then you sank on his cock.

“Oh my god,” you moaned.

“Shit baby you’re so tight,” he said as you ground back and forth.

You made out for a bit as you slowly moved into each other but soon enough you started to pick up your pace and bounce on his cock, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing in the room.

“I love watching you bounce like that, the way your perfect tits move up and down...” Johnny confessed as he grabbed one of your tits a little rougher.

“Johnny...”

“Fuck, Y/N.”

Soon enough, your legs started getting tired and Johnny began to help you by thrusting up into you, the power of his hips sending you straight to heaven. “Yes baby, oh I missed you.”

“I missed you too, so fucking much,” Johnny chased for your lips, a sloppy kiss being exchanged between the two of you.

Suddenly he picked you up and bent you over your coffee table, sending all the little ornaments and magazines you had on display flying off to your carped. He then spread your ass cheeks and took a moment to observe you, making you blush at the exposure.

“Fuck, look at you so wet and pretty for me, almost made me bust a nut right here.”

He grabbed at his rod and pumped it up and down a couple of times before he was entering you once again, this time with much more force.

“I’m gonna fill your pussy up so good,” he said through gritted teeth as his hand grabbed the nape of your neck, forcing your head down on the table. “You’d like that don’t you? Your pussy filled with my cum? Make you a leaky mess? Mmmh? I bet you would enjoy that, wouldn’t you baby?”

“Yes, please, fill me up,” you whined as drool started to slip down the sides of your mouth.

He then grabbed you by your neck and turned you around so you would now be on your back and immediately resumed his incessant pace, your legs being placed on his shoulders.

“Touch your pretty little clit for me baby, let me watch how you cum again.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. As soon as he said it, your hand moved right between your legs and started rubbing at your nub, that orgasmic feeling coming in no time.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he announced before you felt him twitch inside of you, moans spilling from his lips as he ejaculated.

“I’m cumming, I’m-” you mumbled right after he was done, your second orgasm of the night shaking you right to your core.

“I’ll never get tired of that,” Johnny looked at you with a fond look on his face, sweat dripping off his defined chest.

“Of what?” You asked between ragged breaths.

“Watching you cum,” he happily said. “And fucking you.”

You laughed at the boyish charm he managed to convey while saying such filthy things. “Well then, why don’t you come over here and give me round two?”

“You better start asking for round three or four because I’m not gonna stop.”

“Good.”

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

Thank you for everyone who read this story, your support means the world to me! ❤️ And thank you for picking Johnny (or not) 😂 I thought I’d be able to choose by the end of this but this just proves that you should never put your own biases against each other. I couldn’t even choose between them for a bias, what made me think I could do it for this? 😂

Also, I will be posting an epilogue, I just don’t know if it’s going to be tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, but keep an eye out!

Once again, thank you so much, I hope you liked it ❤️

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[jackest-jack]

I would very much like to hear about your spooky scary Sirens, pretty please 🥺

AJKSJAKISJAJAJF Ok so I almost had a heart attack when I saw you were following me because YOU’RE SO COOL so thank you

I already wrote about my spooky scary sirens over here, and they have pictures and I would be willing to write a short thing with them later but for right now I’m gonna pick a different thing and blab about it.

The most fleshed out and cohesive thing I have is the vampire band nerd slasheresque story with a police chase followup as well as a separate zombie apocalypse thing, so ig I’ll go with that. More under cut and warning for like a lot of gore and death and angst. I’m also only doing the first part of that because this is taking a long ass time

I came up with this in junior high, and I was in band, and I noticed that each instrument section had different personalities sort of, so I made characters around that and put them in a horror plot where they all die horribly, because what else are you gonna do? This is gonna be a plot rundown and it might get real long. (It is no longer a rundown. Its just unedited word vomit.)

anyways a bunch of friends, who I’m just gonna call by their instrument names, go camping in the woods for a couple weeks. They all take one car and set up in the middle of fuckin nowhere.

Clarinets a vampire pretending to be a high schooler for kicks, because she was 15 when she turned 5 years ago and got dragged away to the magic underworld (basically a series of safehouses and towns for the supernatural) and she wants a letterman goddamnit.

She gets adopted into a friendgroup despite her best efforts, and gets dragged along on the camping trip in the small car and close quarters with a buddy system and she hasn’t eaten anything substantial in like two months and its proving to be a problem when she starts thinking of her friends as snacks instead of people.

one night, percussionist gets up to go on a 3 am lake walk. But, the buddy system. So he takes Clarinet, who never seems to sleep anyways, with him.

They’re on the edge of a lake littered with huge old chunks of driftwood, looking out over the water, when Percussionist steps on something sharp. It went straight through his sandal and he pulls it out without much trouble, but “that nail looks kind of rusty and I’m Pretty Sure I’m bleeding a little bit, oh I hope I don’t need a shot-“

she falls on him like a cat on a wounded songbird. She has enough of her mind left to cover his mouth and stop the screams as he slowly loses blood.

He tries to fight back. He does. he jams the nail deep into her throat and twists away, but she catches his wrist and slams him backward, a sharp stick going through his stomach, sticking him bloody at the base of an old driftwood branch still attached to its old tree.

She stops draining just before he dies. And she waits, and waits, and waits. Finally, hours later, the corpse takes a deep gasp and its eyes fly open. It begins the excruciating process of pulling itself off the tree.

his wound is closed less than a minute later.

he comes to and sees her sobbing on the ground, bloody streaks under her eyes from where she tried to wipe away her tears with hands soaked from putting pressure on his stomach in a feeble attempt to save him.

“Vampires, huh?” He says, half joking, half looking for an explanation.

—-—

they’re sitting around a small campfire, and Clarinet tells him that he’s a vampire, he needs blood, he cant go back to camp or he will eat his friends. She leaves to find him something substantial before he loses it.

back at the original camp, its around sunrise. Flute notices a small trail of smoke not far off, realizes that Percussionist is missing, and gets French Horn to help him look for their idiot friend (and maybe put out a small fire.)

They make it about 3/4th of the way to the smoke when flute trips on a tree root and scrapes his knee. About a mile away, Percussionists head perks up.

He distantly realizes that he just left the campfire that he’s supposed to stay at, but he can‘t seem to care. The hunger doesn’t gnaw at him or hollow him out. Its not like looking for a fix either. Its an itch in his whole body, a near unavoidable function of his being. The hunt is as natural as a cough, a spasm of muscles to take away the awful itch.

He moves faster than he ever could before, and just to see if he can, he jumps up and begins running across the branches of trees. Its slower, but sneakier; his prey won’t see him coming.

Finally, he reaches them. He jumps on the smaller one, sending it crashing to the ground. It’s blood is what brought him here. He sinks his hollow teeth into its neck and begins feeding.

There is a scream and a crash as the taller one runs away. Thats ok. He only needs one.

———

French horn, for her part, is freaking the fuck out. The sun had just peaked over the horizon and orange light was streaming through the trees when everything went to shit.

The pale thing had fallen on Flute, and the noise he made… she was almost certain he was dead now.

She kept running. If she could make it back to camp, then maybe she could get help, or maybe leave before the rest of them died too.

She charges through a thicket, sharp thorns scraping and tearing every inch of her as she shoves her way through. She shuts her eyes as she goes, to avoid the thorns poking them out.

When she comes out the other side, she feels her gut sink.

She doesn’t recognize the trees or bushes around her. She doesn’t see a path.

She’s lost.

She wants to break down, to scream and cry the injustice to the heavens, to kick and punch and fight the thing that killed her friend, to sit down and rest and have a moment to breathe, to be home-

She picks a direction and runs.

———

Percussionist stops draining Flute just before he‘s dead, following the instinct that drove him to where he is.

He wants to be horrified. He does, really. But he was so hungry, and the itch is still there, waiting beneath his skin to pounce on him again. But for now, its gone, and he can think clearly. He can move without the instinct tainting his every twitch.

He turns to look at the person he drained and sees-

He sees his friend. And it hits him all at once.

He killed a person, a person he knew, a person he cared for, and he had been powerless to stop it. He didn’t even know- he didn’t realize- he would never have done it if he-

but he knew he would have. Even if he knew. He would’ve killed Flute, and he hates himself for that.

So he sits by the body of his dead friend, maybe in solace, maybe because some instinctive tick tells him to. He doesn’t want to know. He refuses to.

When Flute sat up and gasped, Percussionist could‘ve sworn he had a heart attack (even without a functioning heart.)

To Flutes credit, he made it through Percussionists halting and confused explanation before letting himself ask about the smell.

”what smell?” Percussionist asked, and lifted his nose to the air.

He got his answer. The smell of blood, salty and sweet and with a coppery tinge to it drifted through the air, leaving a hunger and odd comfort sitting in his gut. It reminded him of smelling baking cookies from the kitchen as a kid.

A leaf crunched, and he snapped out of his trance. Flute had stood up and broken into a run, faster than any human could’ve gone. After the person that had been with him.

After his friend.

Percussionist sprinted after him.

——

He had the chance to notice how fast he was really going, now that he could think through the hunger. He practically flew through the forest, leaping over a fallen log half his size that blocked his way. He ducked and dodged branches that threatened to slash his face, and if he were running for something else he may have threw his head back and laughed.

As it was, he was following the occasional red flash of a windbreaker that he could barely keep up with without being hit by a tree.

He could heal now right? Did he really even need to be worried about being hit by trees?

He let one slap his face just to test, and he felt the stinging pain all across his face as a deep cut opened across his nose and eyes. He faltered as his vision went red with blood. A second later, it was gone, and he could see again. ….And he‘d lost flute. Great.

He sniffed the air, remembering how he’d been able to smell the blood, and tried to look for his friend.

He could smell the whole forest. Sap and pine and rotting leaves, rotten flesh and mushrooms and a skunk miles and miles off, the sweet sting of honey and dew and campfire smoke, and over it all, the most lovely smell-

Well, looks like he couldn’t find him that way. He thought for a moment, and groaned. He could just follow French Horn and get to her first!

He began running again.

———

Clarinet had just made it back to the campsite, a live deer kicking around over her shoulder. She would’ve killed it, but she couldn’t quite figure out how without losing any of its blood, and since she drained and seriously injured Percussionist he would need a lot of blood-

and the campfire had a suspicious lack of vampires around it. Great. She could only hope that no one had cut themselves-

She stopped as the scent of blood hit her nose. She cursed and took off running, dropping the deer as she did.

——

French Horn thought she was going to die when she heard a bush rustle and snap behind her. She had stopped for a rest, thinking she was safe (if very lost). She was braced for her death when Percussionist crashed through the bushes.

”Oh, good, you’re still alive. We need to go like right now.”

Before she could protest, he grabbed her wrist and began pulling her away. With his very cold, very pale hand.

”Wait. Was it you?” She said, planting her feet.

”Yes.” his voice was solemn, and his eyes downcast. “But unless you want Flute to get you, we need to go”

She tore her wrist out of his grasp.

“Flutes dead. Flute’s dead and you killed him!”

And Flute hit her from the side. He sank his teeth deep into her neck, but only for a moment. Then he pulled back, looking horrified and ran away.

French Horn stands up dazedly. “That was…”

”Yeah.”

she lifts a hand to her bleeding neck where the bite is still gushing blood.

A rustle of trees comes from the side, and Clarinet skids to a stop in front of them. She takes in the situation and drops to her knees, tearing loose a piece of her shirt and holding it to the holes in French Horn’s neck.

”Wheres the third?”

French horn points to the copse of trees he disappeared into.

”I think we might actually be jinxed.” A pause, then “That was supposed to be a joke. Go after him. He’s heading towards the camp, and chances are he won’t be able to stop himself a second time.”

Percussionist nods, and then stops. “How do I get there?”

”just run straight! GO!”

and he does.

———

Clarinet gently explains to French Horn that vampires are real, and that she is one. When asked why she isn’t bloodthirsty, Clarinet answers that she has a lot of blood left in her still, and that she’s not all the way changed, and that the change will, in her words, “Stink. Its kind of the worst thing you’ll have to go through, and it’ll take way longer since you have blood, and you may not notice at first.“

French Horn pursed her lips. “Theres no way to stop it?”

Clarinet shook her head.

”Okay. Okay, shouln’t we help Percussionist?”

Clarinet swore. “You won’t be much help in the state you’re in, but I can drop you off by the camp. Pack our things and be ready to go.”

Clarinet scooped French Horn up and took off into the woods.

———

Percussionist got there just as Tuba was ripping Flute off of his neck.

Despite Flute being the smallest out of all of them, and Tuba being the strongest, he was struggling to keep the scrabbling, biting Flute away.

So, Percussionist did the only logical thing and full body tackled Flute, trying to hold him down. It worked, sort of. Long enough for Tuba to start running. Long enough for Sax and Trombone to see what the ruckus was.

Flute burst out of Percussionists grip, grabbed Trombone and ran.

Sax sprinted after them, and percussionist was left in the dust, standing dumbstruck as they all dashed off. He snapped out of it when Trumpet pressed an axe to his shoulder and told him to not move.

———

Flute knows this: he is very hungry. He also knows that blood tastes very good.

His last two meals escaped. He thinks he let the first go, but he can’t seem to remember why. The second was ripped away from him by someone like him, which was rather rude.

But this one won’t get away. He is far to hungry to let that happen.

He feeds as he runs, draining the squirming thing dry, pinning its flailing limbs against his chest. It stops wailing eventually.

He slows as he becomes able to think clearly again. He holds the body in his arms and revels in the fact he is no longer hungry. Then, he looks at the thing he drained.

And it’s his friend. He feels his stomach drop, and a hollow pit grow in his chest. His friend is dead, and it’s his fault. He tells himself there’s nothing to do but run, so he does.

Really, though, he just doesn’t want to see what she’ll become.

———

“What did you do to them.” Said Trumpet, each word slow and dangerous. She lifted the axe off his shoulder, and he felt relief before he realized she was lining up to take off his head.

He may be able to heal, but he did not want to see how far that ability stretched. Not like this, at least.

He swallowed his fear and asked, ”What makes you think I did something?“

She barked out a harsh laugh. “You go missing in the middle of the night with Clarinet, who still isn’t back. Flute and French Horn go to look for you and have mysteriously disappeared. Tuba came running from this direction, bleeding like a stuck pig. And here I find you, in the center of it all.”

Ah. He was fucked. Time to implement the worst plan ever, considering how fast Trumpet was.

”that’s- that sure is some pretty overwhelming evidence that I did something. I swear I didn’t, though but I know you won’t believe me so I’m just gonna RUN!”

He ducked under the axe she swung at his head, and took off running into the trees. He glanced behind him to see her struggling to keep up, and grinned. He was actually getting away with his head, and beating Trumpet in a footrace for once-

He turned back around just in time to see the tree that crumpled his skull.

———

He wished he could say he didn’t feel every excruciating twitch of his skull righting itself as he laid there. As it was, it was painful enough he was functionally passed out.

Which is why he was surprised to see trumpet dragging him by his feet deep into the woods.

Not half as surprised as trumpet, who dropped his feet and swore when he sat up and gasped.

”What the hell? You were dead! that killed you!” She yelled.

Percussionist was still reeling from how much growing his skull back sucked, and latched on to the first thing he noticed.

”Did you steal my shoes?”

”what are you?” She asked in a tone that was decidedly horrified.

He fiddled with a piece of grass somewhere to his left. “A vampire, as of yesterday. Really though, why do you have my shoes?”

“Not important. What do you mean as of yesterday?”

”Last night, really. Me and Clarinet-“

”Clarinet and I.” She said.

”Whatever. We went on a walk and turns out she’s always been a vampire, and then she did the vampire thing, and now I’m a vampire, and things have just been spiraling from there-”

”That explains a lot, actually. Who else is a vampire?”

Percussionist, feeling slightly more alive, realized they weren’t by the camp anymore.

”Where are we? Why do you have my shoes, and why are you so calm about this?”

”oh.” She said. “I may have made an action plan for something like this. You know, in case of murderers, or if supernatural stuff was real.”

”thats cool. Why steal my shoes?“

”I was framing you for murder.”

an awkward silence settled over them.

”We should get back to camp. Stop more people from getting vampired and all.”

”Yeah. Lets do that.“

———

Sax skidded to a stop in front of Trombones body. She was limp, and pale, and by all accounts dead. He whipped out his phone to call anyone, anyone at all, and pitched it into a tree when it read no service.

He sat, and he cried by his best friend, who always made the shittiest puns, who was the worst at sports, who thought anything with soulmates was stupid but still read all the stuff he suggested her. Who was dead.

He was still crying when she sat up and latched onto his neck, draining him dry.

———

French Horn and Clarinet ran across Tuba, who was holding gauze to his neck where he had been bit. French Horn was starting to feel slightly feverish, but otherwise okay.

”Guys! Are you okay? The weirdest thing just happened.” He said.

”We need to leave.” Said Clarinet. “Now.”

”No argument here. Have you guys seen Flute? He was with you last time I saw him.“

French Horn and Clarinet shared a look.

“I’ll go find him. You two pack. we leave before dusk.”

They watched as she disappeared into the leaves.

”Whats going on?” Asked tuba, a hint of worry in his voice.

French Horn took a deep breath in before saying “Vampires are real.”

Tuba burst out laughing.

“Oh. You’re serious.” He said as he hefted a tent into the back of the van.

”you don’t believe me.”

“How could I? I haven’t seen any proof that they exist.”

She threw a bag of trash in the van with more force than nessecary.

“What attacked you then?”

At this he paused. “I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a vampire.”

———

Percussionist and Trumpet made it to where Trombone was crying over Sax, the late afternoon sun reflecting off of their now pale skin.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. He’ll be alright.”

Trombone looked up at him and snarled, all teeth and rage, and Percussionist jumped back.

”He’ll end up like me, won’t he.”

Percussionist nodded.

”I don’t know what world you’re living in, but this isn’t fucking alright!”

Trumpet walked over and knelt in front of Trombone. She held out her hand, and Trombone scrambled away.

”I don’t believe you would hurt me. Not right now. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

”so what?” She scoffed. “I still did it. Should I just go on existing as whatever I am now? Just kill people so I can live?”

”Actually,“ Percussionist said, “we can live off of different types of blood.”

Trumpet looked back and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Shut up you twatwaffle, can’t you see this is a delicate moment?”

”just figured it would be some good information to have.“ he said.

“Are you seriously telling me my angst fest was for nothing?” She asked.

Percussionist leaned against a tree. “Oh, don‘t worry.” He said. “Theres still plenty of angst about the immortality.”

“Sax did always say he wanted to be sixteen forever.”

Trumpet rolled her eyes. “Lets go home.”

Trombone reached out to take Trumpets hand, and Sax shot up and clamped his jaws around her throat. Trombone grabbed Trumpets wrist and pulled her away as Percussionist peeled Sax away.

”Let him.“ choked out Trumpet. “I‘ll be one of you either way.”

”Absolutely not!” Said Percussionist. “Trombone, go find literally anything else with blood.” Sax kicked and snarled in his grip. “Hurry! I’m not sure how much longer I can hold him.”

———

“Flute!” Yelled Clarinet. She had been looking for him for an hour now, and still couldn’t find him.

She was walking along an old trail that went out of use years ago when she almost tripped over him. He was curled up in the shade of a tree, hiding away in a hollow.

“What do you want.”

”I want to take you home.” She said.

he laughed. “Something like me doesn’t deserve a home. I killed people, and I knew there was another way, but I did it anyway. Just leave me here to rot.”

She remembered when she’d been like this. She had forgotten to eat, had slipped up. Its not a hard thing to do. When you’re a vampire, you brain tricks you into feeling fine by your old standards until you‘re so hungry you can’t stop it.

She believed it was all her fault, though. The only way someone had gotten through to her was something they had called twisting the knife. She had always called it shitty.

She sighed. “I wanted to say sorry.”

He poked his head out a little, peering up at her. “You didn’t do anything.”

”But I did.” She said. “I drained percussionist dry last night, and then I left him to find you. I watched while you attacked your friends, and now, I’m giving you a chance to fix the harm we caused. What will you do with it?”

”You made me like this?” He asked.

”Yes.”

he lunged at her face, fingers clawing for her eyes. She turned around and ran for the campsite, making sure he was behind her, and praying that he would forgive her for the stunt she just pulled.

———

The campsite was packed, and Percussionist and Trombone had made a game of who could catch the best songbird for Sax. Sax was less murderously inclined, though it was hard to tell if it was because the blood he had consumed or trumpets growing nonhumanness.

After the third or fourth time of watching Sax suck down a bird or squirrel like a juice box, Tuba was forced to admit that maybe vampires were a little real.

(He noticed his neck wound had already scabbed over and was halfway gone. He was afraid to ask if he was becoming one.)

The sun was slipping behind the tops of the trees when Clarinet charged out of the forest, leapt over the van, And yelled “Flutes trying to kill me!”

Flute burst into the clearing and lunged at Clarinet. Percussionist stepped in the way.

”What happened?“

”She did this in purpose! She said she dropped you in the woods to kill us!”

Percussionists blinked. “No she didn’t. She told me to stay where I was while she got something for me to eat.”

he stopped yelling. Now, he just looked confused. “But she turned you.”

”Yeah? It was an accident. She obviously regretted it.”

Percussionist backed off, and Flute looked at clarinet.

”why did you say all that then?”

“You were’t gonna come with me if I didn’t. Besides, you were spiraling and this was the easiest way to stop that.”

”Sounds like the shittiest way to stop it, too.” Scoffed Tuba.

She sighed. “Yeah. It was.”

”Hey,” asked sax. “Are any of us still human? I know me, Percussionist, and Trombone aren’t-“

”Percussionist, Trombone, and I.” Said Trumpet.

”-And I saw you two jump over my van, but whats up with the rest of you?”

”Basically,” said Clarinet, “anyone who was bit is or will become a vampire, depending on how much blood they had left in them after the bite. Was there anyone who wasn’t bit?”

everyone was silent as they all glanced at each other, looking for anyone who could say yes. It quickly became awkward, and was broken by Clarinet muttering “Fuck.” quietly under her breath.

”Who all, um, died today?”

Flute, Sax, and Trombone slowly raised their hands. Clarinet squinted at Percussionist, which prompted him to say “What? I died last night.”

French Horn yelled “past twenty four hours, dingus.”

He rolled his eyes and raised his hand.

”Alright. You three,” -she made a sweeping gesture towards the three with their hands down- “Are going to have the worst couple weeks of your life. Take a few days off of everything. Don’t go to the hospital. Stay isolated. Call me when the pain’s mostly over.”

Tuba’s lips pursed. “What, exactly, is going to happen to us?”

”The way it was explained to me was that your body slowly cannibalizes itself. It sucks.”

”hm.” He said. He looked very troubled.

They got in the van and drove through the night.

For now, they rest. A short break, before they have to figure out the rest of their lives.

[axwalker]

Undeniable Miracle 2: Stranded

I’m participating in the 12 days of Christmas hosted by  @leelee10898 and @emichelle . Thank you so much  💕 💕

Synopsis: Alexis decides to leave Cordonia on Christmas Eve, but she has a car accident in the middle of the woods during a snow storm.

A/N: This AU takes place during Liam’s and Madeleine’s Engagement Tour.

A/N 2: Some vocabulary for the Spanish words.

A/N 3: I’m using the prompt: “If you’re so cold, why didn’t you say something? Come here.” requested by @mskaneko​ 

Fonda: Small Mexican restaurant.

Romeritos:  Tender sprigs of seepweed  which are boiled and served in a mole sauce seasoned with shrimp jerky blended into the mix. Typical additional ingredients include boiled potatoes, nopales and shrimp. They are usually served with bread slices and in tacos

Ensalada de manzana: combination of lettuce, beets, apple, and peanuts in a light orange vinaigrette

Bacalao:  Cod fish prepped with sautee onion, garlic, tomatoes and olives.

Pozole: Tradition Mexican soup made with Hominy, pork and peppers.

Villancicos: Traditional Christmas songs.

Warnings: I can’t think of anything for this chapter but there will be NSFW in future chapters. All my fics are for 18+ ONLY.

Words: 2718

Disclaimer: Characters and settings belong to Pixelberry.

@burnsoslow Thank you so much for beta read and for your encouragement. I love you and appreciate you so much.

The edit of the mood board is the work of beautiful @mskanekoI was dying to use it. I love youuu

When he sees I don't respond, he opens my door. "O'Brien? Are you okay?"

I blink, incapable of forming a coherent sentence. 

"Did you hit your head? You seem lost." Drake kneels in front of me.

Finally, I react. "What are you doing here?" 

"Hello to you too. I asked if you were okay."

"I'm fine. I need to call a tow truck."

"Yeah, right. There are no tow trucks in storms like this, O'Brien." He sighs and asks me to open the car's hood so he can check the engine. Five minutes later, he comes back, and I read his expression. The car is not going anywhere.  

"Sorry, O'Brien, but this car is not going to work for now, and the storm is getting worse. You're going to have to come with me."

I scoff. Drake is insane if he thinks I'll go anywhere with him. I've spent the last two months trying to forget everything about him; I don't need this right now. 

 "I'm sure I can find a way to get to Lythikos by myself."

"Shit, you're so damn stubborn, O'Brien. You aren't anywhere near there. It's about 50 miles away. I guess if your car had kept going about 50 miles through the woods, you might have landed there. Is that what you were trying to do?"

"Bite me, Drake."

"Wow, you really should do something about that attitude of yours." The asshole actually smirked. "I have a cabin a few miles up the road. We can go there and wait out the storm. My truck is parked on the road. I pulled over when I saw the car spinning."

"I'll wait here." 

"You'll wait for what? To freeze to death? Don't be ridiculous; you're coming with me."

I shake my head stubbornly. "I think freezing to death is preferable to going with you. Thank you very much." 

"You don't have much of a choice, O'Brien. I can't fuckin' leave you here. My cell phone doesn't work here, and I'm assuming yours doesn't either or else you'd be on it right now. They're expecting two feet of snow or more. So, I'm sorry if you're pissed at me or whatever, I'm not leaving you here."

I'm well aware that I'm behaving like a petulant, spoiled child, but my wish to make him as angry as I am overcomes all logical thinking. “As I said, I’m not going.”

 "I'm going to have to carry you to my truck then." 

"Carry me? No way. You are not touching me." I grab my phone again, begging my Abuela to send me just a little bit of phone service so I can call Max. 

"Either you get out of that by yourself, or I carry you. You have exactly 30 seconds to decide."

I shut my door and raise my phone, trying to get some signal. Suddenly, Drake opens the door, reaches into the car, and has me scooped up without effort into his arms before I can even protest. I barely have time to grab my purse. 

"Enough of your bullshit. Done," he states, then kicks my door shut and starts to walk up the snowy hill. 

I have no choice but to put my arms around his neck. "Let me go this second Walker!"

Drake stares at me and gently shoves a strand of hair off my face. I'm suddenly aware of how close our faces, our lips, are. Because my heart is stupid and has a mind of its own, it starts beating like crazy. Drake swallows hard, and for a second, I think he's going to kiss me; I'm almost closing my eyes when he speaks.

"Here we are." He puts me back on the ground and opens the door of his old Jeep. 

A bark coming from the backseat startles me.  

"Oh my god! He's beautiful! He looks like a wolf!"

Drake's eyes soften when he pets the animal.

"It's a Tamaskan dog." 

"Hi, boy! You're so cute!"

"He's not supposed to be cute; he's supposed to be terrifying." I turn my head, and I see he's teasing me. I shake my head and keep talking to the dog. "Don't listen to your dad, handsome; you're a cutie pie." 

"I'm not his dad. He's a damn dog, O'Brien." 

I rolled my eyes. "What's his name?" 

"Zeppelin. Get in the Jeep; I'm freezing my ass off out here."

I smirked at him. "I never realized how bossy you are." 

He shakes his head, but I catch the unwilling smile on his face. 

DRAKE

I glance to the seat next to me, still not believing that O'Brien is here, in my Jeep. I try to think of something else besides her maddening fruity scent or the curve of her neck, but I already know that my ability to function like a normal human being disappears when she's around. 

 I can't believe that I'm so fucking stupid to be still hung up on her after what happened in Ramsford. She made perfectly clear who she wanted to be with -- yet here I am, looking at her like a goddamn fool. 

We drive for a few minutes in complete silence. Suddenly a deer jumps out from the woods, right in front of the Jeep. I hear Alexis scream as I swerve, and the truck starts to slide and spin, gaining speed. In a second, I glance at her, throwing one arm across her chest to hold her against the seat when I see she doesn't have her seatbelt on. I try to regain control of the truck but it's not working. I feel the Jeep flying off the road and into the woods, crashing downhill and plowing down small trees, until it finally stops, wedged amongst a bunch of larger trees on the side of a hill. 

"Fuck!" I throw both hands against the steering wheel. "I can't fucking believe this shit!" I turn to O'Brien. "And why the fuck wasn't your seatbelt on?" 

“I thought you could drive!" She looks down at my arm, still holding her, and whispers, "Thank you." 

I rest my head against the wheel and take several deep breaths. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." My voice is level and calm, even if the thought that something could've happened to her while I was driving makes me murderous. "Are you okay?" She nods, still shaken. 

 "You okay, Zeppelin?" The dog whimpers and licks my hand. "That's a good boy. We're all okay." I try to restart the truck, but it's completely dead. I can't believe this; honestly, I just can't.

 "What are we going to do now?" O'Brien asks.

 "Well, we're out of cars, so unless you want to walk or ride the dog to my place, we're stuck here." 

She squints at me. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Walker."

"But the highest form of intelligence, O'Brien." I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes at me again. I've forgotten how much I loved teasing her. At least, I wish I had forgotten. "We're going to have to just stay put until the plow truck comes by, and we'll have to hitch a ride. Until then, we're in luck because I stopped at the grocery store on the way to the cabin. I have enough things we can eat and drink to keep us going until then. I have a big blanket in the back seat, so we should be able to stay pretty warm. It's really heavy and thick."

I saw the panic in her eyes, so I continued. "Hey, O'Brien, look at me." She raises those fucking beautiful dark eyes and meets my gaze. "I would never let anything happen to you, okay?"

She nods. "Okay. Yes, I know. I just hope we don't get hypothermia.”

"We won't, O'Brien. C'mon, I think we should both sit in the back seat, since there's a lot of room back there, and we can put the blanket over both of us. I think it will help keep us warmer."

She gives me an odd look but nods. "Right. Yes. I think it's the best idea." She climbs over the seat first, and my eyes roam over her perfect body. I suppress the urge to sink my hands in her delicious hips and sit her on my lap. I sigh and call Zeppelin to the front seat, so we have more space. 

"This is nice; it's very roomy," she says as she pulls the cover over both our legs. 

I can see that she's shivering. "If you're so cold, why didn't you say something? Come here." I put my coat on her shoulders, and she smiles at me. Fuck me if I wouldn't do almost anything for that smile. "Where were you going on Christmas Eve? I' would've thought you'd go to the Christmas ball in the palace."

She hesitates for a few seconds, but finally, she answers, "I was going to spend Christmas with Olivia in Lythikos."

I raise my brow in disbelief. "I must have a concussion, O'Brien; I just heard you were headed to Lythikos to spend Christmas with Olivia Nevrakis."  

"I know! Our friendship was … unexpected. At first, we were just trying to figure out who set us up. The whole Tariq thing that you stopped? It was a trap; someone was trying to blackmail both of us." 

I don’t want her to know that I spend every single free minute I have helping Max figure out who set her up. If I ever find the person who sent Tariq to her room that night and scared the shit out of her, I will kill him. 

"Yes, O'Brien, I knew. Liam told me."

She nodded. "Well, we're trying to get to the bottom of it together, so we've been spending a lot of late nights drinking bourbon and talking. She hides it very well under layers of sarcasm and abrasiveness, but she's extremely loyal and has a great heart. Just like you."

"If you compare me to that crazy redhead one more time, you'll be sleeping outside, O'Brien, and I can promise you, it's cold." 

She laughs. "Okay, okay, sorry. I won't do it again."  

I'm about to ask her why she's not spending Christmas with Liam, but she speaks before I can talk. "And you? What are you doing here?"

"I moved to a town close to Lythikos a month ago. I'm opening a veterinary clinic there. This morning I went to supervise the construction site and to get some groceries for the cabin." 

She looks pensive but doesn't say anything for a while. "I hope you're happier here than you were in the palace, Drake,"she finally says, so softly that I almost miss it. 

I take a deep breath because I can't tell her the truth. I can't tell her that I can't be happy now, not after her. When I kissed her that night, I lost everything. She would never be mine, and after that, we couldn’t even be friends anymore.

"Thank you, O'Brien," I reply anyway because I know she's expecting some sort of answer.

 "How did you get Zeppelin?" she asks as she pets my dog, and I swear the traitor's mouth curls up into a little doggy smile. 

"I was running some errands for the clinic when I saw him tied up outside. I came back a few weeks later on a sunny day, and this poor dog is just tied up to a fence on the side of the building with no shade or anything, and I don't even see a water dish or food. So I park my car and check on him, and he's all happy to have someone pet him, tail wagging like mad. There was an old food dish off to the side, but it was empty, and a dish with some dirty water. I went to my house and grabbed some of the toys and food I'd bought for the clinic. I also gave him some water, and he drank three fucking bowls. I felt terrible leaving him. I just had this bad gut feeling, you know?" She nods with misty eyes. "Anyway, I had to go back to Cordonia city after I gave the dog the stuff. To be honest, I kind of forgot about him. But when I came back, O'Brien, it was awful. I honestly think the last time he ate was the food I'd given him. He was nothing but skin and bones, too weak even to stand up. He was just lying there in the dirt with flies buzzing all around him. But when I kneeled in front of him, his little tail wagged a tiny bit. I think he remembered me." 

Tears spring into her eyes. "My God, Drake, what happened?" 

I see how affected she is, so I reach her hand and squeeze it. "An old man came out of the little building and started yelling at me to get off his property. There was just no fucking way I was going to leave him there. I told him that if I ever saw a dog or any other animal on his property ever again, I would fucking kill him. The douchebag just ran back to the house. I took the dog to my cabin. He was dehydrated and almost starved to death, had two ear infections, worms — you name it. We've been together ever since." Zeppelin looks up as if he knows we're talking about him. 

She wipes a tear and caresses Zeppelin's ear. "You named him?"

I shrug. "Best band ever." 

"Ha! You're so predictable, Walker."

 "How do you know my last name? I never gave it to you." 

"I asked Maxwell at the coronation. Why? You don't like it when I call you that? Turnabout's fair play, Walker." She bits her bottom lip; I look away before the impulse to kiss her becomes unbearable, and I do something stupid. Again.  

"Nah, I like it, O'Brien. Calling each other by our last names will be our thing." 

She sighs, not talking for a while. "What is it, O'Brien? I can almost see the wheels turning in your head."

"We're going to spend Christmas Eve here, stranded in the middle of nowhere."

"I know; I'm sorry, O’Brien. Do you usually do something special?"

She looks up to me with so much vulnerability in her pretty face, I find it hard to breathe. I instinctively come close to her because I hate that look in her eyes; I hate even more that I was the one who put put it there with my fucking dumb question. Her mom and grandma are dead; of course it's a sad subject.

 "Not in a long time. It was one of the holidays my mom, my Abuelita and I celebrated together. We didn't really do Halloween because my mom's Fonda was so busy preparing for Dia de Muertos. The day of the dead," she explains.

 "I know, O'Brien. You made me watch Coco with you and Maxwell in Applewood." I can't help but smile at the memory. She forced us to watch the damn movie in Spanish only to hit "pause" at every single scene to translate it and explain the traditions.

 "Well, Coco had it right! They really respected our traditions!" she replied, her eyes shining as they always did when she was excited. "Anyway, my mom worked for most holidays, and I was forced to spend Thanksgiving with my dad, his crazy wife, and her creepy son. So, Christmas was the best. Especially Nochebuena, Christmas Eve. We had this huge dinner where all our neighbors came to the house and brought Mexican dishes. We had everything; bacalao, romeritos, ensalada de manzana, and the best pozole in Brooklyn. We sang villancicos, had a piñata. The whole thing. My abuela took the holidays seriously," she says with a sad smile. 

I might be a fucking fool, but I can't stand seeing her this sad. And, suddenly, I know what to do. "We might not be able to have a traditional Mexican Nochebona ..."

She giggles. "No-che-bue-na, Drake."  

I think I could spend the rest of my life here listening to her speaking Spanish.“Yeah, that.” I watch through the window and when I see that the storm has calmed, I say, “I have an idea; just wait here." 

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[writer-k-pop]

The Musician (l.w.z) - Waning Crescent Hotel

Please read this (W.C.Hotel) if this is the first post of this series that you see. Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of death Genre: Angst, Hotel Del Luna AU, Choose your own adventure, SVT x Fem! Reader Staff: Yong (Spirit General Manager) / Jiwoo (Human General Manager) / Soon Bok (Room Manager) / Mun Hee (Front Desk Receptionist) / Shin (Grim Reaper assigned to Waning Crescent) Word Count: Ending A - 4.5k / Ending B - 4.4k

W.C.Hotel | Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

"How do you know that?" Yong smirks at me as we walk out of her office.

"Because I am an all knowing being." I say smugly in return but Yong smacks my shoulder, "Ah, okay. I overheard Jiwoo and Mun Hee giggling about what to get you."

Yong exhales, "Oh, they're getting me a gift?"

I shrug, "I guess. You should probably tell them if you don't want it."

"Well, this will be the first time in 500 years that's someone's gotten me a gift for this anniversary. So I'll take it." Yong giggles happily.

"Am I expected to get you something?" I ask, mildly panicking about what to get her.

"A gift from you?" She smiles, "While it would be a miracle to see that happen, no, you don't need to get me anything. Especially if Jiwoo and Mun Hee are going to get me something."

"I'm sure they'll make sure it's grand." I reassure her. "Where are you headed?" I ask when I realize I have no idea where we're headed.

"Hm," She chuckles, "Well the Gods thought it would be great to send us a few new employees. So I have a nice little orientation to go through with them."

"How many did they send?" I ask, slightly weirded out that we would get new staff.

Yong blows airs through her lips, "Five."

"Not too bad." I shrug as we near the conference room, "Where are they being stationed?"

"3 are being attached to Soon Bok in rooms and 2 are going down to the kitchen." She explains with a hand on the door handle.

I nod in understanding, "Alright."

Yong nods in farewell and turns the door handle but I stop her with my next questions.

"Oh, just quickly, what room and how long?" I ask in a quick breath.

"Room 221 and 15 days." Yong says softly with an even softer smile.

"Good luck." I tell her and walk back to the lobby so I can make my up to my office.

With my hands clasped behind my back, I walk lightly and just listen to the sounds of the hotel. The dings of the elevators. The lively chatter of the guests walking to and fro. The muffled footsteps mixing with the sharp clicks of heels against the tile floors.

My body feels light and for a moment, I feel happy and calm.

But it all comes crashing down when I hear yelling from the lobby.

"Why is it always the lobby?" I groan to myself and redirect my route.

When I enter the lobby, I see a group surrounding one man who looks like he wants to take them all but also very panicked on the inside. The group around him is shouting angrily and some are even trying to throw punches at him.

As I approach the group, Mun Hee walks out from the reception room and Jiwoo falls in step with me.

"Do I want to know what happened here?" I ask, leaning towards Jiwoo.

"I don't even know what happened." Jiwoo whispers back as the group's noise level grows louder.

I groan and throw my head back, eyes closed. "Why me? Why my hotel?" I wonder out loud.

Lowering my head, my gaze hardens and my expressions steels. "HEY!" I yell louder than the crowd and make all heads turn to me. "What is going on?"

A split second of silence and then all the guests start talking and yelling and point all at once. I hold up a hand and their voices quiet down immediately.

I inhale and prepare to rip into these people verbally but one of the guests yells out.

"He murdered us!" He yells angrily. "We're dead, and it's HIS fault." He's pointing at the man in the center. The one who's eyes are split between cockiness and panic.

"Did you?" I ask the man, stepping closer.

"Did I?" The man repeats my question with an arrogant smirk, "Did I do what?"

I close my eyes and mentally roll my eyes so hard before opening them again. I meet his gaze while fighting back a scowl. "Did you murder these people?" I expand my pretty obvious question.

The man half smiles, "Maybe."

Jiwoo tenses in fear behind me while I tense in annoyance.

"It's a yes or no question." I state and take a step closer. "You either did." Another step closer. "Or you didn't." Another step. "Answer me now." A step closer and I'm only a few feet away from him.

The man rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. He even puffs out his chest a little. "And if I did? What are you going to do? Kick me out?"

I scoff, "Kick you out? No. No, I wouldn't do that."

"Yeah, I killed them." The man interrupts me before I get to the good part.

I glance behind the man and meet the gaze of Shin standing next to Mun Hee a feet away.

"Again, I wouldn't." I repeat myself for emphasis, "But Shin, here, will escort you to the place you actually belong." I smirk and Shin approaches the man from behind.

"Wha-" The man stutters as Shin grabs his arms and starts dragging him backwards.

"Where, where are you taking me?" He struggles against Shin's iron clad grip.

A smokey grey doorway appears on the wall and Shin heads straight into it with the man struggling behind him. Shin gives me a curt wave and I return the gesture with a small smile before the two of them disappear into the grey smoke. And in a blink of an eye, the doorway disappears.

I turn and walk back to Jiwoo who blinks a few times to reset himself.

"Ah, uhm, I do apologize for... that." Jiwoo says once he has his voice back. "He will no longer be a problem so I do genuinely hope you enjoy your stay here. I will have refreshments sent up to your rooms."

Mun Hee leads some guests away as they break away from the group while the others disperse by themselves. Jiwoo stays quiet at my side and I finally let my shoulders relax slightly. A female guest walks up to us and takes my hands in hers.

"Can I finally rest?" She asks with pleading eyes.

I nod once, "You can rest now."

The guest smiles happily and a male wraps his arms around her shoulders. He pulls her away towards the elevators. Jiwoo and I turn and follow their movements.

"Sooo..." Jiwoo drags out the word when all the guests are out of earshot, "Where did Shin take that guy?"

I smile with mischief, "A place similar to what you humans call hell."

Jiwoo's eyes widen, "But what about the souls who had a past life of a murderer?"

"One or two murders is, unfortunately, passable for another life in the human world." I explain, eyeing the other guests milling around the lobby, "However, kill three or more and the Gods end your lives right there and then. When they reach our front desk, Shin is usually waiting to take them to 'hell.' Though I don't know what happened today." I say, slightly confused.

"So hell really does exist?" Jiwoo wonders in awe, "Like there's an actual place where terrible souls go?"

I chuckle and look over at him, "It exists and, no, you don't want to know what it's like."

"Okay." Jiwoo takes in my answer, "Then have you ever been there?"

"Once." I breathe out, "When Shin was busy with a departure and there was a female who killed 8 people acting psychotic in here. I had to take her there and for the record," I lean over and whisper, "Even I don't ever want to do it again." A shiver runs down my spine as the memory of the cold empty air resurfaces.

Jiwoo is stunned into silence and he just blinks at me. "That... That is scarier than all the stories my world has of it."

"All you need to know about it, is that the souls who go there, certainly belong there."  I tell him and then walk to the elevator. Reaching the elevator, I press the up button as Jiwoo calls out another question.

"(y/n)! What do you call it?" He asks and his curiosity evident when I turn around.

"There." I tell him as the elevator dings and the doors open.

Leaving him no time to respond, I enter the elevator and press the floor where my office is located. And let the doors close shut.

~The Fifteenth Day~

The bright sun burns against my skin as I sit outside on a picnic blanket. Soft guitar plucks flow through the air. I turn towards the sound and find Woozi sitting next to me with a guitar in his lap.

He looks up and notices my gaze. A lazy smile grows on his face and he stops plucking at the strings.

"Like it?" Woozi asks, resting his arm on the top of the guitar.

"Not sure what it was." I answer him, pulling my knees up to my chest.

Woozi laughs, "Me neither to be honest."

"Well, for a moment, it sounded like you had a melody going." I say leaning my head on top of my knees.

"Which part?" He inquires with eyes full of wonder.

I bite my bottom lip in thought, "The small bit with the repeated runs."

"That's like the entire thing." Woozi chuckles and shakes his head. "I always forget you're not versed in music terms."

I roll my eyes, "You try running a full-scal-" I stop myself mid sentence realizing what I was about to say. In my time with Woozi, I've become extremely relaxed and almost let my secret slip.

"Running a what?" Woozi smiles softly, amusement showing on his face.

"A full scale family." I clear my throat, covering up my mistake.

"I thought you didn't have a family?" He questions, setting the guitar aside.

My eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights. I blink a few times as my mind races to think of another excuse. With each second that passes, my heart beat starts to beat faster. But Woozi grabs my hand, smiles, and makes my panic disappear in a second.

"Don't worry, I won't push." He says softly, "I know you don't like to talk about it."

I turn up the corners of my mouth and he gives my hand a squeeze before picking up his guitar again. I rest my hand on the blanket and continue to watch Woozi as he resumes his random plucking.

My fingers fumble with the pen in my hand and it clatters onto the floor breaking me out of my daydream.

"Fuck." I mumble and bend over to pick the pen up off the floor.

My hand wraps around the pen when someone quickly opens and shuts my door. I jump in surprise which results in me hitting my head on my desk.

"Fuck!" I groan in pain and slowly rise up, the pen still in my hand, somehow. With a hand rubbing the spot on my head, I look towards the door and find Yong leaning her back against it, breathing heavily. Her eyes are wild and in a slight panic.

"Are you okay?" I ask with slight concern that the hotel may be in extreme, extreme  chaos.

Yong nods while still catching her breath. "Uhm, I sort of blew up the gift that Mun Hee and Jiwoo got me. And... they found out." She reaches the climax of her story.

"How did it happen?" I ask, trying to mask my laughter.

"Well," Yong exhales, pushing away from the door, "I was trying to turn a knob on it and then a different piece sprang off. And then another. And then the whole thing came apart within seconds." She finishes and glances back at the door to make sure it stays shut. "It was just my luck and then even more my luck that they passed by my OPEN office door." She shakes her head, "I ran out while they were stuck frozen, just staring at the scattered pieces."

I place the pen back in it's holder, "You'll be okay. They'll forget about it." I comfort her then wiggle my eyebrows, "Especially if you ask them to help you put it back together."

"That is an excellent way to get pummeled by two employees." Yong rolls her eyes and I laugh with glee.

"You'd survive." I tell her, our smiles still lingering.

"Barely." She mumbles, "Uhm, I was supposed to talk to you about a few things but," Yong gestures to her empty arms, "I kind of don't have the files."

I wave my hands dismissively, "We can it without the folders. It's not like I look at them anyway."

"True." She nods her head at me, "Well, Shin just helped with two departures and there are 3 more left today. There weren't any check ins during the day but Mun Hee checked in 3 guests as the moon rose. Soon Bok's new employees are picking up the work nicely and the guests have nothing but compliments for them." Yong looks up at the ceiling in thought, making sure she's not missing anything.

Yong's phone dings with a notification and she quickly pulls it out. "And Soon Bok just dropped Woozi off in the garden."

"She dropped him off?" I chuckle and raise to my feet.

Yong shrugs, "Hey, do you mind if I hide out here for a bit? I kind of want to avoid Jiwoo and Mun Hee."

I nod, "Go ahead. Just don't let Jiwoo or Mun Hee trash my office."

Yong throws me a thumbs up as I walk past towards the door. I throw one back and exit my office, heading towards the bare tree sitting in the center of the lonely garden.

As I enter my garden, I'm welcomed with the soft patter of fingers drumming against a table. Smiling, I turn towards the source and see Woozi staring out the window, his fingers mindlessly drumming to a melody that only he can hear.

"Oh, I like that bit." I say and Woozi's head whips around, startled. I giggle and he chuckles at the fright he fell into.

"Well, now I forgot what that bit even sounded like." He pouts and I sit in the empty chair next to him. "But if you give me another hour, I probably could find it again."

I hum in amusement, "If you did that, I wouldn't be able to talk to you." Now I'm the one pouting.

"What do you want to talk about then?" Woozi asks, resting his chin on his fists.

"Anything." I say with a smile, "Everything."

Woozi chuckles, "Where would you like me to start?"

I pucker my lips in thought, "Mm, start like you always did. With the music."

"With the music." Woozi repeats my words and leans back in his chair, "Well, I wrote a lot after you left. Wrote and composed. So much, in fact, that I had nearly 100 titles under my belt within 10 years." He smiles at the achievement, "Was considered a musical genius by everyone. Even the critics. Though they continued to enjoy ripping my pieces to critical shreds."

"I thought the critics loved you." I wonder.

"Oh, they loved me." He agrees, "But they also hated me. My pieces were so beautiful but they were made up of the worst parts. The critics never understood how so many terrible passages could mesh together to make the most beautiful piece their ears had ever heard."

"There was never another Jihoon. Ever." I reference the pseudonym he used and lean my head on my hand.

"You kept an eye out?" Woozi asks with delight.

"Of course, I did." I scoff, "I had to make sure no one would surpass your level of genius."

"And what if someone came who was better than me? What would you have done?" He questions me, squinting his eyes.

I shrug, "Probably delayed or made it so their works were never as good as yours."

"Seriously, how would you have done that?" Woozi smiles at my ridiculous statement.

"Twisted the Gods arm and forced them to." I state definitively much like a child.

Woozi bursts into laughter, his body rocking forward and his hands clutching his stomach. His outburst makes me laugh as well because we both know that I would never be able to do such a thing.

"Did your kids like your music?" I ask when our laughter has died down.

"My kids?" Woozi asks.

"Did... you not have kids?" I hesitantly ask, wondering if I got that piece of information wrong. "I thought I heard news that you and your wife had 2 children together before she... passed away." I avoid eye contact because I remember hearing about the slump he slipped into after she died.

"Yeah, I had two kids. Twins." He sighs and grabs my hand, partly to tell me it's okay to look at him and partly for his own reassurance. "Sunny and Yuna. And yeah, they did for a while... and then they were teenagers."

I smile at the unfortunate growth of a human.

"But they came back to loving my music once I retired." Woozi continues. "Sunny became a music professor and she used a lot of my works for her students analyze. And Yuna went into music therapy. She also used my works but for vastly different reasons."

"They did what I expected of a musician's kids." I comment, "You raised them well. They carried on your legacy."

"And how do you know that?" Woozi asks, "I thought you couldn't get involved in my life after you left."

I smirk, "I can't get involved, but I can keep up. Your name didn't just disappear into the noise like most peoples do. Yours stood out for many, many years. I got to see your daughters create a foundation in your name that helped kids get an arts education. I saw your grandchildren continue that foundation. I saw Jihoon's pieces played throughout the decades."

"You watched for that long?" He asks, sincerely touched by my words.

"What else was I supposed to do?" I answer his question with a question, "I wasn't going to just sit around all day, twiddling my thumbs, and waiting for the next love. Besides, since you were no longer in that life, I could get involved... kind of."

"What did you do? Donate money to the foundation every year?" Woozi guesses my exact actions on a whim.

I press my lips together and the information clicks in his head. I even see a tiny light bulb illuminate behind his eyes.

"You donated??" He says, grabbing the table and the back of his chair for support.

"Not a lot." I keep his expectations low, "Just a few thousand every year at the beginning of November."

"My birthday month." He smugly smiles.

"My very own memoriam." I tell him, leaning closer.

Woozi leans forward and presses his lips against mine just for a second, "It fits you beautifully."

I smile happily, "I thought so too." I lean back in my chair and cross my legs and my arms. "Mmm, did you ever tour?" I ask, remembering me urging him to do so but he always shot me down.

"Much to my dismay, I did." He nods, "My management said it was 'good for business.' And they somehow snuck a clause for at least one tour into my contract."

"Where did you go?" I quickly ask, curious.

"Mainly major cities all over the world." He answer me with an amused smile, "It took nearly 2 years to complete and my wife wasn't all that happy about it. Even when I told her she could come along with me but she was determined to stay and work her job." Woozi chuckles and I wrap myself with the comfort that he found someone who matched well with him. "She was so strong headed. Reminded me of another I loved." He looks to me and raises an eyebrow in suspicion, "She looked an awful like you."

I push his face away with a laugh, "Oh, stop it."

Woozi lets out a very airy chuckle, "Are you going to make me?"

I pout angrily at him, "I won't if you keep talking."

"About what?" He sighs as he's at a loss for stories that I want to hear.

"Anything." I groan.

"Everything." We simultaneously say, only he's deadpanning and I'm curious.

Woozi inhales, "Would you like to hear about the time I almost ruined a performance in Paris?"

My eyes widen, partly because of worry and partly because of interest, and I nod my head a little too eagerly.

"Of course you would." He shakes his head in believing disbelief. Then he tells the tale of how he had come down with terrible allergies in Paris and was sneezing terribly through the entire performance.

From Paris, the stories traveled to the cities he toured. Most good and funny memories but there were a few that weren't as cheery. Like in Moscow how he was almost arrested because he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or in Australia when he woke up with 5 lizards in his bed. Though, while Woozi found it very traumatizing, I found it absolutely hilarious.

After his story stories were told, he dove deeper into his life as a father to Sunny and Yuna. The days when he'd be home early enough to surprise the girls before bedtime. The nights when they would wait up for him because he 'was the better story teller.' The times when he would be stuck on a melody and his girls would intuitively somehow know that and come running into his home office. All the firsts in their lives that he got to experience. And all the lasts that he missed: high school graduation, college graduation, etc. But even through all that, he reminisced on how his girls never faulted him for any of it. Because they understood his talent.

And so did the world. He got so much recognition for his work and yet, it never seemed like enough to me. I always thought he deserved more recognition when he was living. But like all things, the recognition came after he died.

Just like the soft ending of an orchestral ballad, the sun softly nuzzles under the horizon and gently nudges us towards our end.

I lean my head on Woozi's shoulder and sigh.

"Guess that means my time is up?" Woozi guesses and points to the last wisps of light peeking over the western horizon.

I nod but stay silent.

He smiles and grabs my hand in comfort. "I'm sure the time apart will fly by in a blink of an eye."

"It didn't last time." I mumble, turning my hand over to properly hold his.

"This time it will. I can feel it." He whispers and presses a soft kiss to the top of my head. "Come on now. The Great Jihoon can't be late for his last appearance in this world." He pats my hand against my thigh a couple times.

I lift my head off his shoulder and stand up with him.

"Which one bloomed for me?" He asks, nodding towards the white chrysanthemums.

Lifting my free hand, I point to the one on the far right. "That one."

"And what will happen to it once I leave?" Woozi continues to ask but he starts to lead me out of the garden.

"Do you want to know?" I ask, worried that it won't be up to his expectations.

He nods, "I want to know."

I exhale and say, "It'll wither and disappear."

"Oh." Woozi says softly.

"It's nothing special." I lower my gaze in embarrassment and release my hand from his. "The chrysanthemums are just there to remind me of the loves I have to wait for." I raise my head and find we've almost reached the lobby. "But the withering of one means that another is to come and that I'm one love closer to being free."

"I'll hold onto that last part and not think about the rest." Woozi says and our footsteps echo through the quiet and empty lobby.

Now it's my turn to lead our directions and Woozi grabs my hand again for comfort. We stay silent as we approach the departures door and my heart thunders against my chest. Opening the door, Woozi lets me pass through first with a small gesture.

At the edge of the forest, Shin stands stoic next to a running car, its red back lights like red eyes watching our every move.

"Do you think Sunny and Yuna are over there?" Woozi asks as we walk closer.

I look over at him and his eyes are filled with calm, genuine wonder. "Yuna will be there. I haven't seen Sunny pass through my hotel yet." I tell him honestly.

"And how many lives did Yuna have when she passed over?" He continues to question.

"She lived 8 lives." I inform him.

He looks straight ahead and straightens his shoulders in preparation to leave this world. "And Sunny?" He asks.

"When she was born as your child, she was on her 4th life and she had 6 more to go." I say and my hand remembers how lightly Sunny rested her hand in mine after she passed away in the human world.

Woozi nods and pats a hand over his heart. "Good."

We stop a few steps away from the car and Shin opens the car door for Woozi.

"Hey," Woozi pulls my hand so I'm turned towards him, "I remember that bit." He says quietly.

He raises my hand, palm up, then uses the other hand to drum his fingers against my palm. My eyes watch his fingers as they move against my skin.

Da, da-dum, da-dum-dum, da, da, da-dum.

My eyes look up to his which are studying my face for a reaction.

I smile softly, "That was the one." I remember the small rhythm from hours earlier.

"Don't forget it." Woozi instructs and points a finger at me.

I shake my head, "Never."

He smiles before capturing my face in his hands and bringing my lips to meet his in a deep kiss. I lean further in, not wanting to let go. But the nightly breeze that wraps around us directs us apart.

"I love you, (y/n)." Woozi whispers.

"I love you, Woozi." I say, just as quiet.

After one last kiss pressed against my forehead, Woozi pulls away and walks towards the car. He ducks into the car and Shin closes the door behind him. The car's brake lights brighten for a second before dimming and the car moves forward into the forest fog.

"What did he press into your hand?" Shin asks, walking up to me.

My eyes don't leave the fog but my hands reach for Shin's hands. Without breaking my gaze, I drum the melody against Shin's palm.

Da, da-dum, da-dum-dum, da, da, da-dum.

I let my hand hover over his palm for a second before letting go of his hands.

There is a heart beat of silence before Shin says, "Beautiful."

And back in my garden, the chrysanthemum sitting farthest to the right side withers away.

Return to the Navigation Page (Waning Crescent Hotel) to choose the next guest.

Woozi slides his hands down his thighs and exhales. "This is your last time doing this."

"What? Going to the forest?" I look over at him in confusion.

"Sending people off." He restates.

"But this time I get to leave too." I say and stand up, "Which makes it a last and a first."

Woozi stands up in front of me, "Then we should get this last-first show going."

I giggle at him and nod.

We walk hand in hand to the lobby where Yong, Mun Hee, Soon Bok, and Jiwoo stand solemnly.

"So this is it?" Mun Hee asks with tears in his eyes. "This is the day you leave us?"

I wrap him up in a hug, only a tiny bit annoyed that he's being so sappy. "Maybe I'll get punished again and be back here by the end of the year." I try to joke but Mun Hee abruptly pushes back from me.

"Don't you dare say that. You better not return here." He says angrily through his tears.

I chuckle, "I won't come back. I promise."

Turning to Soon Bok, I thank her for her service and her amazing work. Something I never did and should've done more.

Next onto Jiwoo. I also thank him for his and his entire family's service then I unclip the bracelet that has held him to this place.

"When you leave today, you won't be able to find this place again." I inform him, "I hope that you'll be able to go and live your life happily."

Jiwoo nods, "Thank you for letting me work with you. I won't ever forget you."

I smile sadly, "You will. But thank you."

Finally I reach Yong who is sniffling and trying so very hard not cry.

"You'd think after all these years of waiting that I'd be prepared for this day." She says through sniffles.

"Thank you, Yong." I rests my hands on her shoulders, "For everything. Thank you."

With lips pursed together, she leans forward and wraps me in an unexpected hug. But I soon wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tightly.

We pull apart after a couple seconds and I wipe the few tears that have escaped from her eyes.

"Keep this hotel running beautifully." I tell her before Woozi grabs my hand again.

With final waves of goodbye, Woozi and I walk out to the foggy forest that will take us to our resting place.

At the edge of the forest, Shin stands next to an idling car, a somber look on his face.

"(y/n)." He says when we reach him, "It has been an honor working with you. I wish you both a peaceful rest." Shin bows his head and I pat his arm.

"The honor was mine." I tell him with a smile. Now the tears start to line my eyes as the realization fully sets in.

I'm free. I served my years of punishment and now I'm free to let my soul rest.

I turn back towards the hotel and look up to the top where the rooftop patio is outlined with bright string lights. Then to the mid floors where random room lights are turned on, some guests staying in while others opting to experience the hotel's many services. Then to grand base where guests would be milling around, waiting their turns to leave this world.

"(y/n)?" Woozi softly asks pulling my attention to where he sits just inside the car, "Are you ready?"

I take one last quick look at the hotel before turning away from it. "Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go."

I lower myself into the car and Shin securely closes the door after I am completely inside. As the car begins to drive forward, Woozi securely grabs my hand and I let his warmth guide me towards our final destination.

In the garden, the final chrysanthemum withers and dies so that no more stand at the base of the bare tree.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Ransomware for coffee makers

My 2019 book RADICALIZED opened with a novella called Unauthorized Bread, a tale of self-determination versus technical oppression that starts with a Libyan refugee hacking her stupid smart-toaster, which locks her into buying proprietary bread.

https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/

I wrote that story after watching the inexorable colonization of every kind of device - from implanted defibrillators to tractors - with computerized controllers that served a variety of purposes, many of them nakedly dystopian.

The existence of laws like Section 1201 of the DMCA really invites companies to make "smart" versions of their devices for the sole purpose of adding DRM to them, because DMCA 1201 makes it a felony to unlock DRM, even for perfectly legal purposes.

That's how John Deere uses DRM: to force farmers to use (and pay for) authorized repair personnel when their tractors break down; it's how Abbott Labs uses DRM, to force people with diabetes to use their own insulin pumps with their glucose monitors.

It's the inkjet business-model, but for everything from artificial pancreases to coffee-makers. And because DMCA 1201 is so badly* drafted, it also puts security researchers at risk.

*Assuming you're willing to believe this isn't what the law was supposed to do all along

Adding networked computers to everyday gadgets is a risky business: as with any human endeavor, software is prone to error. And as with any technical pursuit, the only way to reliably root out errors is through adversarial peer review.

That is, to have people who want you to fail go through your stuff looking for stupid mistakes they can mock you over.

It's not enough for you to go over your own work for errors. Anyone who's ever stared right at their own typo and not seen it knows this doesn't work.

Nor is it sufficient for your friends to look over your work - not only will they go easy on you, but sometimes your errors come from a shared set of faulty assumptions.

They CAN'T spot these errors: this is why no argument among Qanoners ever points out the most important fact, which is that the whole fucking thing is batshit.

The default for products is that ANYONE is allowed to point out their defects. If you buy a pencil and the tip breaks all the time and you do some analysis and discover that the manufacturer sucks at graphite, you can publish that analysis.

But DMCA 1201 prohibits this kind of disclosure if it means that you reveal flaws that might be used to disable the DRM. Security researchers get threatened by "smart device" companies all the time.

Just the spectre of the threat is enough to convince a lot of organizations' lawyers to advise researchers not to go public with this information.

That means that a defect that could crash your car (or your implanted pacemaker) only gets disclosed if the company that made it authorizes the disclosure.

This is seriously bad policy.

Companies add "smarts" to get DRM, because DRM lets them control how their customers use their products, and lets them shut down competitors who try to give control back to customers, and also silence critics who reveal the defects in their products.

DRM can be combined with terms of service, patents, trade secrets, binding arbitration, and other forms of "IP" to deliver near-perfect corporate control over competitors, customers and critics.

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

But it's worse than that, because software designed to exercise this kind of control is necessarily designed for maximum opacity: to hide what it does, how it does it, and how to turn it off.

This obfuscation means that when your device is compromised, malicious code can take advantage of the obscure-by-design nature of the device to run undetectably as it attacks you, your data, and your physical environment.

Malicious code can also leverage DRM's natural tamper-resistance to make it hard to remove malware once it has been detected. Once a device designed to control its owners has been compromised, the attacker gets to control the owner, too.

Which brings me to "Smarter," a "smart" $250 coffee maker that is remarkably insecure, allowing anyone on the same wifi network as the device to replace its firmware, as Martin Hron demonstrates in a recent proof-of-concept attack.

https://decoded.avast.io/martinhron/the-fresh-smell-of-ransomed-coffee/

Hron's attack hijacks the machine, causing it to "turn on the burner, dispense water, spin the bean grinder, and display a ransom message, all while beeping repeatedly."

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2020/09/how-a-hacker-turned-a-250-coffee-maker-into-ransom-machine/

As Dan Goodin points out,  Hron did all this in just one week, and quite likely could find more ways to attack the device. The defects Hron identified - like the failure to use encryption in the device's communications or firmware updates - are glaring, idiotic errors.

As is the decision to allow for unsigned firmware updates without any user intervention. This kind of design idiocy has been repeatedly identified in MANY kinds of devices.

Back in 2011, I watched Ang Cui silently update the OS of an HP printer by sending it a gimmicked PDF (HP's printers received new firmware via print-jobs, ingesting everything after a Postscript comment that said, "New firmware starts here").

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njVv7J2azY822/21/20/

A decade later, there is no excuse for this kind of mistake. The fact that IoT vendors are making it tells you that the opacity and the power to punish critics is not a power that companies wield wisely - and that you shouldn't trust any IoT gadgets.

[abraxos-is-toothless]

Surprises (14)

Forgive me for being late, but these get uploaded from my laptop and I’ve had internet problems.

Here we are with the new chapter, and I’m sure you’ve been waiting after that cliff hanger;)

Warnings: Injury descriptions in this one. There will be swearing, mature themes, mentions of alcohol at times, and mentions of sex. I will update warnings as I go if needed.

Surprises Masterlist.

Full Masterlist.

—————

Everything was dark and then it wasn’t. He was standing in a wide open field, sun shining and blue skies, when he heard a tiny giggle to his left. Turning his head, Azriel saw a girl, who looked to be in her teens, with brown eyes and dark hair that was blowing in the wind as she walked through the grass, letting the blades tickle her hand. Behind her was the girl he loved so dearly but she was older, the corner of her eyes wrinkled and her hair was much lighter. When they reached a spot they deemed acceptable, Elain laid out a blanket and the two of them sat side by side staring up at the clouds, chatting idly. As he walked closer, he finally caught onto part of their conversation, the girl asking in a small voice, “Hey, Mom?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

The girl twisted something on her thumb, which he realized was the thumb ring he had in his draw at home, part of a matching trio where the other two belonged to Rhys and Cass. They all had little swirling patterns on them; however, the only difference would be the little gem each of them held. Rhys’ was purple, Cass had red and his own had blue.

“Do you miss Dad?” He was right there, they didn’t need to miss him, and she didn’t need to miss him. He shouted but they didn’t turn, didn’t move and so he moved directly in front of them but still, they didn’t acknowledge his presence. Elain’s eyes widened but only a fraction, turning and tucking a rogue curl behind the girl’s ear.

“Of course I miss him, I miss him more every day. But if he was here, he’d be so incredibly proud of you.” She wiped a tear from his daughter’s cheek and all he could do was scream at them. He was right there; there was nothing wrong so why wouldn’t they look at him?

He dropped to his knees on that blanket and reached for them but when his fingers made contact, he couldn’t feel anything and neither did they. Azriel was crying now, trying everything to get them to look, to listen, and to touch. Nothing. Elain started again her smile widening as she spoke, “Did I ever tell you abou-”

She was cut off as everything began to fade and his family disappeared before him, he moved, to do what he didn’t know but just as he reached for his loves, his vision became black once more.

His eyes opened blearily to bright lights above his head and the blurry features of faces while there was a loud beeping sound in his ears. It felt as though he was moving and he realised he was in a vehicle of some sort. He tried to speak, to move his arms but he was held in place by a pair of hands. “Easy there, we thought we lost you for a minute there, but you’re going to be alright.” Something was settled over his face and his eyes began to feel heavy again. “That’s it, we’ve got you now, and you’re okay.”

Just before he let the soothing words send him into that calm place, he managed to breathe the most important word through dry lips.

“Elain.”

oOoOo

Elain couldn’t breathe as she, Feyre and Nesta moved as quickly as they could through the hospital, her nails digging into the palms of her hands as she tried to hold herself together. The frantic call they’d had only thirty minutes ago had made her heart drop to the bottom of her stomach.

They had all settled in the basement that the boys had converted, content to binge watch a new comedy series, Feyre with a bowl of popcorn and Nesta fussing to make sure Elain was settled when the sound of ‘I’m sexy and I know it’ started ringing through the room. She was confused until Feyre gave a long suffering sigh. “Sorry, Rhys set it as his new ringtone the other day and I forgot to change it back. Hold on.” Her sister got up and walked across the room, realising she’d left her phone on the table and jested as she answered the call;

“You left me barely twenty minutes ago, miss me already?” Suddenly her face became serious and worried which put Elain on edge.

“Rhys, slow down and tell me again.” Slowly, all of the colour drained from her face and her eyes lined with silver as she brought a hand up to her mouth. She nodded at something her boyfriend said but remembered he couldn’t see her and responded with, “Yes, we’ll come.”

And then Elain watched as she hung up, hands shaking and blinked over at her and Nesta before she explained whatever the phone call was about. “H-he said there w-was an accident,” a few tears dropped from her face as she blinked at them, “they were hit by a truck and the car... Rhys said to come as quickly as we could.”

She didn’t even remember how they got here but right now she didn’t care, she just had to find him. The three of them were about to turn down a corner when a nurse tried to stop them, but before she could even get a word out, there was a shout from down the corridor. “Nesta!”

Three pairs of eyes turned to see Rhys running towards them, and he looked absolutely awful, which caused Elain to feel a twist in her gut. He had a large, but not extremely deep, cut through his left eyebrow and ran slightly down his cheek, which would no doubt scar. He had bruises along his jaw and he was smeared with blood, while he moved with a slight limp. Feyre let out a choked sob as she moved towards him, crashing into his chest. He winced slightly but held onto her as he pleaded with Nesta, “Please you have to hurry. I can’t calm him down, neither can my mother but he’s going to hurt himself more if he doesn’t stop.”

Nesta moved like lightning in the direction he had just come from, Rhys hot on her heels. Feyre dropped her pace to match Elain as she herself couldn’t quite move fast enough. When they reached where they were supposed to be, her heart cracked at the sight. Cassian was screaming and crying, outright trying to destroy the place. His arm was cradled to his chest in some kind of sling and there was a rip in his jeans, exposing a large gash on his thigh. Elysia was crying from the sidelines, in pain at the fact she could not help her son and there were doctors yelling at him to sit down, to let them treat him but he wouldn’t listen. He stopped and turned around, eyes wide with fear when Nesta’s soft voice pierced through his breakdown.

“My love, please stop.”

They boy Elain had always seen laughing and joking, just overall happy at all times of the day, was gone. In that moment he was a broken shell of what he was and dropped to his knees in front of the girl he loved as he sobbed and sobbed, each one sending a tremor through his body as he pushed out garbled words. “The fucking idiot...stupid martyr...turned the car...”

Her sister kept herself composed as she too dropped to her knees in front of Cass, wrapping her arms around his neck and rocking him from side to side as she whispered soothing words into his ear. Elain let her eyes move away from the scene to roam around the room, catching sight of Rhys with Feyre’s face tucked into his chest as he cried silently. She quickly passed over all the mess, seeing the doctors slowly move towards the broken boy on the floor as if he was a timid deer. Through all her scanning, she didn’t see the hazel eyes she longed to see, she didn’t feel scarred yet gentle hands take a hold of her waist like they did in the shower this morning. When her eyes landed on Elysia, she couldn’t stop the hitch in her breath as she asked the question that she dreaded the answer to, “Where is he, Lys?”

The older woman walked over to her, taking her hands into her own and caressing the backs of them gently with her thumbs. “The boys say that when he saw the truck, Az turned the car so that he would take the impact,” a choked sound tore through Elain’s chest at the words, “he was trapped inside the car when help arrived and they had to cut him out. He has internal bleeding and he hit his head pretty hard and he’s in surgery right now but the doctors said...”

She didn’t like the way Lys trailed off, but realising this was difficult to do, she urged her on in soft tones. “The doctors said what, Lys? Please tell me.”

“Part of his left leg was severely crushed Elain, they said they were going to have to amputate below the knee just before they took him in.”

She couldn’t stop herself then as she turned and heaved all of the contents in her stomach onto the floor. It wasn’t because Lys said they were amputating, though it did scare her, it was because he was alive. When she hadn’t seen him there and was a witness to his brother’s breakdown, she had feared the worst possible scenario. But everything was fine and Azriel was alive. Their little girl would get to know her daddy and he her. She was manoeuvred to sit in a chair, her head between her knees as someone rubbed soothing circles on her back. Elain faintly heard people talking but she pushed all thoughts from her head, letting everything fade into the background except for one little word that meant so much.

Alive, alive, alive.

 oOoOo

Rhys had agreed to go home with Feyre, to rest for a while and then come back with everything they would need. Once the adrenaline died out, Cass had been overloaded with pain and taken to be sorted out. His arm was actually found to be broken and the gash on his thigh needed stitches, Nesta staying by his side the whole time. He would forever be grateful to his girls’ sister for doing what he could not. Elain stayed at the hospital with his mother, seeming to be in no condition to even move from her chair after she had thrown up all over the floor.

When they got home, he let Feyre lead him up to his room and once they were inside, she slowly began to undress him. He tried to protest, his only injury was the cut on his face and he could easily change himself but she silenced him with a glare. When she had him down to just his boxers, she put his clothes into the hamper before guiding him to the bed and pushing him to lie down. Satisfied she stripped and stood before him in nothing but a pair of lace panties before throwing on his shirt from the night before and climbing into the bed beside him, tangling their legs together and lifting one hand to his injured face. The doctors had put a few stitches in the deepest part and put little strips of that weird white tape stuff onto it. He knew that things were tense and sensitive but he couldn’t help joking, “It’s going to leave a pretty hot scar huh?”

Wrong thing to do.

Her eyes filled with tears as she held his face in her hand and her bottom lip trembled, so he brought his hand up to press his thumb into it. “None of that Feyre, I’m sorry. I just wanted you to smile again.” She nodded before burying her face into his chest, throwing a leg over his hip and wrapping her arms around him. Her voice was muffled against his skin when she spoke after a few minutes.

“What happened?”

He let out a small sigh as he explained from the exact moment they had left the girls that morning, right up to where his eyes had opened in the overturned car. “Cass managed to get his seatbelt off but didn’t brace himself and all of his weight dropped onto his arm. He kicked one of the back doors open before helping me out when he realised I was conscious. We tried to get to Azriel but it was no use and someone came running over to say they had called for help.”

Feyre began shaking in his arms a little and he squeezed tighter as he gathered the courage to tell her the most important part, something that he hadn’t explained to anyone but Cassian. “There’s more,” a nod for him to go on, “while we were waiting for the ambulance and keeping an eye on Az, I turned to look at the truck. As I did, there was a familiar logo on the side of it as the driver stumbled out.”

“Who was it?”

Deep breaths, Rhys. She’ll be hurt but you have to be the one to tell her.

“It was your father, baby.” Feyre gasped and pushed herself away from him and out of his reach. When he put his hand out towards her she batted it away as the tears came in full force. He knew she was hurt, but he pushed forward. “Mother sent a text this morning after she left saying that he wasn’t where we left him the day before and that car was still in the drive but not his work truck. He must have seen us on the road and made an impulse decision, because when he stumbled out onto the road, he tipped his head back and laughed and disappeared before I could move.”

Her trembling stopped and she scooted back over to him, kissing him soundly on the lips with a mumbled “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t you driving that truck, you shouldn’t be apologising. I tried talking to the officers when we were at the scene but they were too worried about getting us to the hospital. They said they would come to the hospital later to get our stories when we were cleared to do so.”

She touched the cut on his face once more before their gazes met, her eyes fierce and full of fire. “You tell them every single thing, leave nothing out. I want him to pay for it. All of you could have died; Azriel could have died without even getting to meet his fucking kid.”

All Rhys could do was nod. He’d had the same thoughts when the paramedics were trying to keep his brother from crashing when he was pulled from the car.

He felt like he’d just closed his eyes when his phone went off as he received a text. Gently reaching his arm over the girl fast asleep next to him, he grabbed his phone from the small table and he saw it was now mid afternoon. They had been sleeping for about four hours now. Unlocking his phone he saw that the text was from Nesta and he almost cried with joy at the words he read.

He’s awake.

—————

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