#can you imagine not being man enough to just drink your coffee from a pink cup

[put-me-through-the-wall]

Imagine Retired!Price who has nothing to do in his new found free time

His team was finally able to convince him to put down the gun and rest. He's done more than enough for others.

But after years of constant movement and missions he isn't comfortable with sitting in one place.

He starts to go on long walk in the afternoon to fill his time

Mostly people watching or checking out the local businesses.

One night as chilly afternoon turns into a cold evening he finds himself wondering into retro diner all lit up by neon lights.

He finds a booth and takes a look around at the polished but dated looking restaurant.

it brought him a feeling of comfort he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Hello sir, can I get you a drink to start?" A sweet voice chirps

He turn to meet your sunny smile all dressed up in a baby pink button up dress, waist cinched with a mini apron. Hair pulled back with a matching bow.

"Hello..." John looks down to your name tag. "Bunny?"

"Oh" you laugh, "It's just a nickname. The old timers think it's cute"

"What does that say about me, then?"

"You don't look too old to me."

"Let me get a coffee, bunny"

From that point on John made sure to come by the diner every night.

Rain, sleet, or shine you could bet he would be there.

You weren't there every night of course but it thrilled him to think of the possibility of seeing you again.

Always greeting him with a, "Hey stranger" or "You come here often?"

Always dressed in that little faded pink dress.

Your conversation started to take up more of your shift as time went on.

Evolving from cordial to friendly and occasionally flirty.

"Bunny, what does your boyfriend think of you working all the time?"

"I don't have a boyfriend, John"

"Then what do you do all day when you're not here?"

"Waiting for you to ask me on a date"

Then you both laugh but John knows his time will come and he's a patient man.

He was always a generous tipper, even before the flirting

He loved to watch you run around the place, espically when it was busy.

You handled yourself well under pressure. Never letting a difficult customer get under your skin.

He love to way you look after a long shift with your hair slightly tousled with a pen or two stuck somewhere in your hair or behind your ear.

He'll stack his empty plates up nicely to make it easier for you to pick up.

Pushing them to the edge of the table signaling to you he was finished up.

He made sure they were steady too, especially so after one unlucky afternoon that had you sweeping up the shards of glass under his table with an embarassed blush warming your cheeks.

But seeing you on your knees sweeping up your mess made unpure thoughts flood his mind.

He began thinking about what you wear outside of work.

What you wear when you go out.

What you look like when you don't wear anything at all.

Then one rainy afternoon, John blows in to find his usual booth vacant and waits patiently for your typical sweet greeting.

Instead you rush over and drop his coffee on the table with a thud causing tiny brown droplets to splatter over the thick rim of the diner mug.

"What's crawled up your skirt, little rabbit?" John chuckles.

You frown down at him, pulling your notebook and a pen from your apron pocket. "I'm not in the mood today. What do you want to eat?"

"I know I was a little late but, the it's pouring outside. Don't be upset with me, bunny" He says, refusing to drop his joking tone.

"John" You snip.

He likes the way you say his name when you're angry.

"What's wrong?" He looks up at you with sincerity and you finally drop your arms and sigh.

"It's been a hard day. My boss is just being a total tool. The other waitresses are shit and no one is tipping well. Don't say anything but, I think I'm gonna put in my two weeks" You're words tumble from you in a rush.

"You're going to quit?"

"I can't keep working like this. I hardly make enough for rent and I still have no time to myself," You take a breath and shake your head. "Sorry, I shouldn't talk about money stuff with you. You're just here for dinner."

"Let me help you,"

"No, I don't need help. I'm fine, just a little overworked. I shouldn't have brought it up. Forget it."

"Let me take care of you"

You laugh but he does not.

"Come live with me, you'll never have to work again."

"Okay stop now, this isn't funny."

"Do you see me laughing?"

"You don't even know my real name"

"Aren't you tired? You're far too pretty to be so stressed. This job will always be here if you change your mind. I don't think you will though."

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

A/N: This turned out longer than anticipated but hope you enjoy. I just want a Price to sweep me off my feet and make me a house wife :'-)

ﾒ𝟶

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[squiddy-god]

Mmmmmm more twst x hsr thoughts but this time

Twst mc/yuu getting transported into hsr

Imagine it's after graduation, Crowley after years finally finds the best solution for everyone! You can travel back and forth between your world and twisted wonderland, amazing right? Wrong because the moment you step through the mirror your tumbling face first onto the floor of... A train? Huh? And staring back at you is 5- no 6 very confused faces a tall older man with brow hair that seems to be starting to grey, a beautiful woman with red hair, a cute girl with pink hair- a guy with black hair and another person with grey hair- and of course the most adorable bunny thing you have ever seen

The older man- welt- is immediately asking your business and where you came from- cane and black hole at the ready

You try to quickly explain that you came from the mirror- now mysteriously in the corner of the astral express lobby. And that you were just trying to get to your home world- rather home universe

You are confirmed not a threat and allowed to stay on the astral express, therefore becoming a nameless

When you aren't helping with trailblazing you travel back to twisted wonderland, telling the others about your adventures in this new world (deja vu anyone?)

The shenanigans are crazy, trying to explain that you went from a modern world, to medieval wizard BS, to the future is a harrowing experience already

Even funnier if you end up getting some kind of elemental ability/blessings from a aeon because now you finally have a leg to stand on

Whether or not the blessings work in twst is up to you

Some funny things I can see happening :

Welt being truly horrified at Crowley and his negligence

You/yuu managing to drink himekos coffee because you have suffered lilia's... Everything tbh

Showing March your magic camera (I feel like the camera isn't talked about enough in the twst fandom) and all the pictures you have taken

Grimm being jealous of the cat cakes because every time you come back you smell like them and also have pictures with them

Grim getting jealous of pompom (vise versa)

Being unfazed by the stellaron much to everyone's shock and dismay ("grim would probably try to eat it")

Being unfazed by boss fights and explaining that at least 8 people have tried to kill you and that's being on the low side

Seeing silver-wolf and thinking "ah shit not again" because it reminds you of idia

Being on the loufu and meeting Jin Yuan like "if I had a nickel for every :3 general I met with a sword son I'd have two nickels"

Seeing dang heng in his IL form and immediately blurting out "HORNTON?!" because Obviously

Telling malleus you met two new dragon

This interaction :

Twst!nameless : *completely unfazed by entering the dreamscape, honestly a little on edge*

Sunday : you seem on edge despite also seemingly being unfazed by entering the dreamscape for the first time, is something perhaps bothering you?

Twst! Nameless : well I've been in a dreamscape before- long story with a dragon- and the last time I was in one I fought in a war-

Sunday : WHAT????

Alternatively twst! Nameless being suspicious of Sunday for the entire time and once he reveals everything its just "see! Never trust a traumatised religious man with grey hair!" Rollo flash backs are real

Or twst! Nameless going "the last time I attended a important singing event/competition with a beautiful singer someone turned into a monster and everyone almost got poisoned and died, the whole place was wrecked... Thankfully we had a dragon to help but-" *the entire penacony quest happens* "I spoke to soon and cursed us"

Just another chaos maker on the astral express

[thebardisabird]

this is the first request ive ever made, but how would the boys react to a classic Bimbo reader? with classic blonde hair, pink clothes, expensive bags and nails, stuff like that😭 this may be a bit strange so dont answer if you dont wanna, i was just curious. thank you so much lmao 😭

We know her, we love her, she’s that girl!

So Osomatsu immediately goes gaga for you. I’m talking heart eyes, drooling, unable to think coherent thoughts kind of enamored. From your pretty long eyelashes, to your super short mini skirt to pink boot heels - he can’t seems to pick a spot where he wants to look! Every single inch of you sings sex appeal and he’s listening very intently. He knows he definitely cannot afford you tho - so he might pull off the same stunt he did for Chibimi and just about sell his soul to get a date with you. (Honestly when I think of all the characteristics you describe matched with Oso I think of @girlymatsu ‘s oc Erina-chan who is super cute and fun, please check them out, you can tell they put a lot of love in their art and you'll absolutely love their oc)

Karamatsu sees your fashion sense and instantly wants to be the Ken to your Barbie. You have this it girl factor that draws him in and with the sway of your hips and the wink of your pink, glittery shadowed eye, he’s completely under your spell. If you so choose to give him the time of day, he pays you compliment after compliment, and will take you out on a date to get coffee or a nice meal depending on what you’d like. If we’re talking about a classic bimbo trope where you’re a little on the less well-read side, then he might find it cute that you don’t really know how to pronounce some of the words of the meals or coffee drinks and he’ll try to use the opportunity to teach you some fancy words. You actually find his poses and flowery speech kinda funny, because he sounds like a poem out loud.

Choromatsu has no idea how you're even talking to him right now. He's seen you plenty of times and never ever imagined you would even say two words to him other than like... "Excuse me" if he was standing in your way. You are so far removed from all the things that encompass his life. Yet when you tell him that his favorite has super cute outfits and that you were thinking about becoming one yourself because you love the idea of all the glitz and glamour it brings, he short-circuits. You're already so gorgeous, to think of you being in cutesy outfits and dancing around? And he's allowed to talk to you? Associate with you??? The man is ready to die happy. But not as happy as when you dress up in his favorite idol's outfit - only it looks ten times better on you because your bigger chest and ass. While you don't exactly understand his love for anime, manga, and other more nerdy things, you humor him because he's just so cute when his little froggy face lights up the way it does!

Ichimatsu is intimidated entirely by you and will actively go out of his way to avoid you. You are like a beacon of light far too bright and undeserving for him to ever even get close to. Luckily for him, you notice one day that he's looking into the window of a cat cafe and you finally tap him on his shoulder and ask about whether he likes cats or not. It takes about everything he has not to throw up on the spot, but he is seriously questioning his life and whether or not some god above is about to smite him. You try to explain to him that you actually really love kitties as you point to your kitten paw choker and show him your baby pink matching kitten paw nails. At some point he realizes that you're not fucking with him and he slides out of fight or flight mode and into general nervousness. It takes a while before you can actually get him to speak (you're literally such a bombshell against his disheveled-ness, he feels very grateful that he's conscious enough to give you short answers instead of fainting like his body wants him to), but you eventually give him your number. When you part ways, then he slumps to the ground, but with the tiniest of smiles on his face.

Jyushimatsu actually makes you nervous. It's very clear that you're super attractive and bubbly, but there is a genuine sweetness to him that makes him stick out from all the other meatheads who try to normally get your attention. The yellow clad matsu isn't very subtle about staring at you and your appearance, but you honestly don't mind it when he says things like "Your hair reminds me of the sun!" or "You look like a pretty pink cloud today, haha!" The guy is just so adorable it makes you giggle. And when he smiles right back (even bigger than his usual grin), it makes you blush a bit. You end up leaving lipgloss on his cheeks all the time because you just find him so cute.

Todomatsu can't get enough of you once he gets to know you! You two feed off of each other's cutesy personalities. And since pink is both of your signature colors, you guys end up matching outfits a lot. Though the price to pay with you two being so matchy-matchy is that everyone else literally cannot stand being around you two lol. But that's fine to either of you because you both just chalk it up to them being rude and jealous and you pay it no mind...it's either that dynamic orrrrr you end up hating each others guts because only one of you can be the cutest in Akatsuka. Though that scenario ends up in an enemies to lovers situation because even though Todomatsu says he can't stand you - he definitely admits to himself (and only to himself at first) that you are positively gorgeous and the only person worthy of being at his level of pretty in pink.

[quicktimeeventfull]

Moonlight

Written for Meronia Event Day 3! 2k words Read here or on AO3 Content notes: includes vampires, blood, and vampires drinking blood Near has an arrangement. Profoundly isolated by his own volition, he's volunteered to let the vampire Mello feed on him, in exchange for -- what, exactly?

The creature comes in the night and it comes invited, which is the only way things can be.

It is three minutes to midnight, the moon yellow in the sky, and Near is waiting at his window when it alights on his balcony. Six stories up and a sheer drop below but it has crawled its way up the concrete and it drags itself, now, over the railing, with the hooked white claws of its fingers.

Near watches, impassive. He does not know how he feels about the way the creature looks. It is frightening, almost human but not quite; its face pallid, with black eyes that carry no light. The moonlight doesn’t catch in them, and neither do the sterile fluorescents which whine electric in his apartment. Its limbs move further than they should and there is something wrong with its features. They’re too big, and sunken inwards, misaligned in a way he can’t describe. Its colourless lips are, eternally, cut into a scowl.

It hauls itself onto his balcony and stands there, waiting, eyes blank.

Near pulls his window open. The metal scrapes along the track, a sound sharp in the night.

“Well,” he says. “Come in.”

It needs permission, this thing.

He feels the shiver of something. A magic, maybe. Or perhaps it’s only his own imagination. He’s never been one to let his mind wander but the existence of this thing turns a denial of the supernatural into ignorance rather than sense and he can no longer trust himself, as he once had, to cast aside the little flickers of childish wonder he’d once had.

The creature steps inside, into the dark of his home. Near slides the window shut. It looks around it, as it always does, as if something is liable to have changed.

His apartment doesn’t look all that different from how it had when he’d moved in. The walls are white and undecorated. There is a desk with a computer against one wall and a bed tucked into the corner of the room with white pillow and white sheets, made with hospital corners. The kitchenette, with its sink and its minifridge and its hot plate, clear of all detritus. He keeps his coffee maker and his pans and his spoons tucked neatly away until he needs them; his toys are in Tupperware containers under the bed, and his pencils and notebooks are in the drawers. He doesn’t like mess. He wants to deal with one thing at a time.

There is a pink towel folded beside his pillow, all ready to go.

He lives alone, Near. In his home, yes, but also in the remainder of his life. For the most part, he is not unhappy. He has his groceries delivered, and he watches films on his TV. He doesn’t need anything more than this. What would be the point?

He has one friend, a man named L, who he talks to online. He’s never met him, never even seen his face, but they’re best friends, probably. Or else he’s the closest thing Near has. He talks to him, anyway.

L is just as much a shut-in as he is — he understands. He knows what it’s like to sit within the years of your life and watch them hollow around around you. And a little while ago, long enough that the creature feels like a fixture in his life, L messaged him and he said, listen, there’s this thing I found online, this thing you can do and then you can stay alone but not all the way.

L says there’s nothing wrong with them and he thinks that’s true but it’s also not the whole story. You can be unfinished without being broken. Your absences can be your own choice, and yet.

He sits down on the bed. This, he’s found, is easiest. The first few times they’d done this in his chair, but then the creature had to lean over him, one hand digging into his shoulder, the other clutching at his arm, and it was awkward, and it had hurt.

The creature hovers beside him, oddly hesitant. It must be used to the routine by now but it always looks uncertain anyway, and irritated by its own uncertainty.

Near undoes the top three buttons, then picks the towel up and drapes it over his shoulder. Then he tips his head and exposes his throat to the creature.

It makes a strange, choked sound. With his head tipped like this Near can only see it from the corner of his eye, but the bed sinks beneath its weight so he knows when it sits.

“You’re ready?” it asks.

“Yes,” Near tells it. Then, for good measure, “You have my permission.”

It brushes the the hair away from his neck. Its claws are hard and cold. They feel less like human nails than dog claws, but the creature uses them so gently.

It presses its lips against his neck. They’re soft and warm and Near likes the tenderness of them. He shivers.

Then the creature opens its mouth, and digs its teeth into his throat.

There is a flash, first, of pain, blinding white, which shudders through him. He can never get used to it because it’s different every time.

Before this arrangement had began, he’d assumed that a puncture wound was simply a puncture wound, but now he knows. Sometimes the creature’s teeth delve into the skin; sometimes they hit nerves on their way in. He used to think of his body as an abstract thing, a form that floated in space for the sole purpose of housing his mind, but now he can see that this is not true. It’s a real thing, inside and out, with parts and qualities he can’t ignore. Which he’d thought, errantly, he wanted to ignore.

Today the pain jitters through him. It runs down from his neck through his shoulders through his arm, sharp and ragged, a hurt that feels somehow coloured with itself. He breathes out, and shuts his eyes.

After a moment, it washes away, replaced with a Novocain numbness. He thinks probably he’d do this even if it hurt the whole time but he prefers this, likes the numbness in itself in it own way, this absence in this small part of himself.

He can feel the wetness of his own blood against his skin, viscous and warm. The creature grips his shoulder, its claws tight, to keep him where he is.

It takes a long time. It’s always longer than he remembers. He breathes through it, keeping himself still.

At last the creature pulls away and he’s left, fuzzy-headed, vaguely disoriented, feeling as though someone had struck him on the side of his head. He touches his shoulder and feels the wetness there, then moves the towel up and presses it to the wound.

From experience, he knows it will already be healing. It’s something of the creature’s magic. The wound, repeatedly opened, has scarred over the months he’s been doing this, but not all that much. It doesn’t really matter, anyway. There’s no one to see.

He looks up at the creature.

It’s face is flushed now, its pallor gone. It’s staring at him, something unreadable in its expression. It’s not guilt but it’s a close cousin.

“Are you okay,” it says.

It’s a question, but it hasn’t formed it like one.

Near looks up at it from the corner of his eye. “Yes.” He pulls the towel away. It’s bloody, but it’s not that bad. It’ll wash out in cold water. He folds it up neatly, then leans down to place it on the floor beside his bed. He doesn’t want blood all over his sheets. Oftentimes it ends up there anyway, but he washes the stains with sheets and usually they disappear; if not, he pulls the covers over them, and pretends they aren’t there. “Same as last time. You don’t need to keep asking.”

It squints at him, then sets its arms down on either side of itself and leans back, crossing its legs over each other. “Sure.”

“You wouldn’t come here if you didn’t believe that.”

The creature only looks at him, then turns abruptly away. Near twists the sheets between his fingers, then looks down.

“Why,” says the creature, “do you do this?”

Near doesn’t look up. It’s never asked before, but frankly he’s been waiting. It’s such an obvious question. He doesn’t, particularly, want to answer it.

When he doesn’t say anything, it goes on. “Do you want to fuck? Is that what this is about? Because a lot of people think that, and it isn’t going to happen. It’s not that kind of service.”

“I don’t want to fuck.”

“Then what? What do you get out of this?”

L once said, on one of their faceless calls, that he doesn’t know why he made this decision and he doesn’t know why he makes it again and again, but Near isn’t like that. He always knows precisely why it is that he does what he does. Every move he makes is intricately calibrated.

He doesn’t know if he and L do this for the same reason, but he doesn’t care. People do things for their own private purposes. It’s none of his concern.

“Because,” he says, flatly, “I’m lonely.”

The creatures makes a short, sharp noise. Near keeps his eyes on the sheets, not because he’s ashamed but because he prefers not to see. He doesn’t like to know what other people think of him. He doesn’t see any reason that information should be floating around in his head. If he doesn’t plan to use it, there’s no reason to give it space.

Finally the creature says, “You haven’t heard of Grindr?”

Near does look up at this. It’s staring at him, black eyes fixed on his face. He can’t read its expression. He thinks, maybe, it might be sad.

It goes on. “Aren’t you scared? You know what I could do. I could kill you, if I wanted.”

“Yes,” Near says, and its nostrils flare. Near goes on. “But you’re not special. Anyone could kill anyone. People like to tell themselves they can do all the right things and everything will be fine. It’s a nice thought, but it isn’t true. Things are more honest with you.”

It’s looking and looking and he has no idea what it’s thinking.

“I should go,” it says, at last.

“Yes. We both got what we needed.”

That isn’t fear in the creature’s expression, but it’s a close cousin.

It stands, then walks to the window. It slides it open, then steps out. Near watches it go, its pale form darkening as it steps out of the brightness and into the night.

It walks to the balcony, sets one hand down on the railing, then turns back.

“You’ve never asked my name,” it says.

“No,” Near tells it. “It’s yours. It’s not mine to take."

“Well, do you want to know?”

Near considers this for a moment, then nods. “Yes.”

“Mihael,” says the creature. “Mihael Keehl. You can — do whatever you want with that. Look it up. Whatever. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.”

“Okay,” says Near. “Mihael.”

It nods curtly, then stops again.

“There’s something really wrong with you,” it says. “I hope you know that. You should — I don’t know. You should do something about it. Talk to someone. Fuck someone off an app. Take up gardening. Whatever people do.”

Near looks at it, steady.

At last it breathes out, face flush with Near’s blood, then grabs the edge of the balcony and hauls itself over. There’s a flash of pale hair in the dark, and then suddenly its gone and he’s alone again.

It’s left the balcony window open behind it. He should stand up and shut it. He doesn’t. He lets it stay, gaping, the white curtains fluttering in the night, trailing out from the dark and into his room, the cold air sweeping over him.

He stares up at the ceiling. Mihael Keehl, he thinks. He turns the name over in his head, then mouths it out. It’s such a soft name. He says it out loud, feels the air purr through his throat, tastes that little puff of air, framed by consonants. Then he lies down with the window behind him and pulls the covers over himself, to keep out the cold. @meroniaevent

[bleutectic]

omg idk whether i find this really pathetic or really funny but i made my dad coffee in a pink cup and he poured it over into a brown cup, weak masculinity at its finest yall!!!

[throwaway-yandere]

"I AM HERE" (Yandere Modern CEO! Alhaitham/Reader)

a/n: btw, the logo's made by Esther anon!!! ❤️ Thank you so much!!!! Ily!!!

Unreliable Synopsis: You got recruited as Alhaitham's assistant... But honestly? You'd rather be a damn idol producer.

Mother of Klee, Alice's note: We (Our cutie pie Lumine and I) just wanted you to know that it wasn't our idea to make you Alhaitham's assistant, ✾... That's all! I'll have Barbara pray for you every Sunday <3

Yandere Idol!1k event masterlist

--------

You didn't get the job.

Technically you did get to work for the company, but you still didn't get the job. It's a strange predicament, truly. It would be comparable to learning how to prepare fried eggs in a culinary class and then being informed that you must serve medium-rare steak with sauce for the test.

Yes. You didn't become an idol's producer.

But anyone can imagine the kind of stress you're under when you found out you were hired as the CEO's assistant.

-----

"Ohohoho, a lost guest! It's always nice to see a new face around here! Can I get you something to drink? I promise you can trust me!" A man approached you with two bottles of iced coffee.

You raised an eyebrow, clumsily scratching your neck. 

The taller blonde man beside him sighed exasperatedly. "I don't think anyone in their right mind would accept drinks coming from..."

An idol wearing a weird bonnet? Yeah.

"Geez, trainee, what's with that look? I don't spike drinks. Is that sooo hard to believe?"

"You're Kaveh and you're Venti of 5wirl, aren't you?" It's clear to you who they were after that brief exchange.

"Yep yep!!!" He does a tiny little finger-gun gesture. "The one and only– wait a minute, that's Itto's line."

"S-Sorry to bother you, but I'm quite lost right now..." You stuttered. "If you could lead me to CEO Alhaitham's office, that would be fantastic."

"Aaaahh, so YOU'RE (Y/n)! We heard rumors that you're going to work as that idiot Alhaitham's assistant, is that true?"

Your nose scrunched. Sadly, that does seem to be the case based on TeyvatPro's employees' behavior towards you.

Venti gave you a look of pity, "maybe you'd have a good life if he wasn't the CEO and a cum laude Akademiyan graduate. Unfortunately for you, that guy is both."

But you're also an Akademiyan graduate...

"That bastard's an absolute numbers guy for a linguistics major, if I were you, I'd purposefully bomb that interview," Kaveh said.

Venti shrugged. "Do you even have to try? I'd crumble if I'm stuck with him in a room for more than an hour. He probably got that attitude from his seniors."

But based on the magazine you've read, you were a senior when Alhaitham was a freshman...

"Yeah, yeah, we get it. Enough slander, Venti." Kaveh scoffed. "Like, hello? I was Alhaitham's senior you prick!"

You perked up. "Oh? What did you major in?"

Kaveh gazes at you proudly. "Architecture."

You raised a hand and you shared a quick high-five. "Nice! I love to idle around St. Deshret's building back then--"

"Aaaaaaaalright nerds, we're here!!!"

Venti loudly announced, bowing in front of the door.

A closed door, huh? There are unspoken things about doors when it comes to superiors. It's a pseudo-science that when a superior's door is always open, they value employer-employee relationships and are willing to hear out inquiries. Considering how Sir Alhaitham's closed...

Well... You shouldn't make a mountain out of a molehill.

A pink-haired lady opened the door.

"There you are, little one. Come, wait inside."

---

"We didn't expect someone like you to apply here. Your GPA is astoundingly high– what exactly made you want to apply here?"

The money and the location, but mostly the former. You had a similar salary before your old company faced bankruptcy, but the workplace here has some pretty decent coffee and a nice dental plan. Those standards may be low but at least they weren't nonexistent like your newbie self's preservation skills. 

Miss Miko smiled slyly.

"You know what, don't answer." She said. "The boss should emerge in 3... 2... 1..." 

You heard the door open, but you can't see who it was yet since a bookshelf was blocking your view. 

"Well then, I'll be taking my leave~." The ex-idol giggled. "Farewell, little one."

Of course, it was none other than the CEO himself. Alhaitham walked to his desk, ignoring Miss Miko as he sat down, which amplified your nervousness. He's known as a genius businessman for a good reason. With a demeanor imbued with confidence and wit, his face glows in a rather youthful light. 

"I'm certain you've deduced why I called you here."

You're wary of how his cologne smelled like money. He smells like he's trying to prove something to you. 

"Y-Yes, sir, but I don't think I'd be fit to be your assistant–"

"That's right. You're still incompetent." He deadpanned, "I'm only hiring you because you have neat handwriting, and based on Lumine's analysis, you're something of a realist. My criteria are usually stricter than that."

You know little regarding the full business Alhaitham conducts, but if his standards helped him stay as the CEO instead of Madam Alice, it must be a challenging one.

"But...?" You droned.

"But?"

"W-Why me, then?"

Alhaitham scoffed, "there's no use explaining more than half of my reasonings to you. Let's just say I enjoy how you're something of an odd one out. Uniqueness as an asset is something I value, especially in this industry."

"If I'm not worthy, then may I propose that I'll only be a temporary assistant until you find a suitable idol for me? O-only if you'd allow it, of course."

He raised an eyebrow, not expecting those words from you.

"You're seriously determined to be an idol's producer?"

"I am."

"Even when being MY assistant provides better benefits?"

"Yes, sir."

"How stupidly honest. No, scratch that off the record: you're stupid AND honest." 

You laughed uncomfortably. You're not sure why you're so direct with the CEO. Being straightforward with your potential employer is quite a welcome change from your usual practice of masking your true thoughts with formalities. You usually keep your opinions to yourself, but his mere presence implores you to speak frankly.

"I know that look." He said. "You notice it too, right? We communicate rather naturally for an employer-employee relationship."

"Yes, sir. It's a bit strange."

"Hmm. If you look deep within your past, you wouldn't think it's strange at all."

What does he mean by that? 

Alhaitham reached his hand out. He smirked as you accepted his handshake.

His strong grip feels oddly familiar... You would think that you've known him from somewhere but you are still an Akademiya graduate. You need more evidence to support that gut feeling of yours.

"I like you. Let's get along for the next 5 years."

"Until you find a suitable idol for me." You answered without malice.

His face clenched slightly.

"Sure. Until you no longer need this company."

At that time, you should've noted that there's a difference between those two sentences.

-----

"I AM HERE." Your phone spoke in an AI voice.

It's been a long time since you had your first encounter with Kaveh & Venti and that interview with Alhaitham. Nowadays, you work hard to please the latter. 

You opened your phone. TeyvatPro's app logo is a heart-shaped leaf, but it's anything but natural and comforting. It's corporate and cold. The AKASHA - Device Policy app served as a reminder that you've long abandoned your old job and entered a new business environment.

You miss your old boss. You miss your old colleagues.  

You looked around, unfazed. It's just one of many features the AKASHA app has; it allows Alhaitham to make your phone speak whenever he's searching for you. Since you're usually around wherever he is, this tracker sufficed.

The door opened. You committed the painful error of fulfilling his demands at an ungodly hour of the night, and now Alhaitham has sent you more tasks.

Alhaitham pocketed his phone after seeing you. He just used it to make your phone ring. The AKASHA app doesn't allow you to silence his calls. It'll only stop saying "I AM HERE" once your boss turns it off.

"Mx. (Y/n)."

"Here are the files, sir." 

Miffed at the exasperation in your boss's tone, you cast your eyes downwards as you passed his folder. However, you have to face him head on or he'll begin his streak of "professional" insults. 

You won't let him run his mouth just yet. "Would that be all?"

Alhaitham didn't look like he was in his best mood. As he looked through the folder, skimming through each page with hawk-like eyes, you noticed two strange papers on his desk.

Is that... your file?

"S-Sir, permission to speak?"

"Granted."

"Why is my resume on your desk?" You showed your best poker face because you knew that your next words aren't pleasant. 

"Am I fired?"

Alhaitham spoke immediately, not looking up to face you. "You're uncharacteristically confrontational. Is it because it's 2 in the morning?"

He's wrong about the hour– you're always begrudgingly bending your schedule for your bosses– but he's right about your "lack of spine." However, while you don't need another ulcer, you need this job.

Alhaitham continued, now sporting a more pronounced frown.

"How did you arrive at such a conclusion? I took you as my assistant for good reasons and your groundless inference shames this company."

"I... Pardon?" Rude.

"Perhaps it was wrong for me to assume that you possessed a greater aptitude for critical thinking," Alhaitham spoke sardonically. "Take a look at the desk again. The reason why your resume is there should be obvious."

"Is that right?..."

You glanced at his desk again, gaining unspoken permission to touch and move papers on your boss's desk. When you did, the underlying reason became apparent.

Kaveh's file is also on his desk.

With nowhere to turn, you came up with a single hypothesis.

"Does... Does this mean..." 

You beamed a wonderful smile at your boss, unable back your excitement. "Does this mean I'll be reassigned as Kaveh's producer?!"

He smirked.

Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham was pleased as you started associating his motivations with another cause entirely. 

You grabbed Kaveh's resume, grinning from ear to ear as you fan your face. "Holy. Oh my God. I'll finally be an idol's producer!"

"Kaveh is still a trainee," Alhaitham replied but you didn't hear him.

There's no better fit for you to work with than someone as theatric as Kaveh. Visual kei, rock, disco– it makes virtually no difference what Kaveh's idol genre will be; you don't care as long as it sounds nice! In addition to being the only noisy members of the "ABC" or "Alhaitham Bashing Coalition," you both graduated from Akademiya, thus it's impossible for you two to not be close friends. 

"I've never seen a person this happy for getting a downgrade."

"Then clearly you don't know what it's like for people who abandoned their engineering careers to pursue art."

"No. No, I don't." Alhaitham said, picking up more folders in his drawer. "Send this to Miss Minci down the first floor and you'll be excused for the day."

As you should've been in the first place. Today was a Sunday.

"Of course! Thank you so much, sir Alhaitham!"

He nodded, uninterested.

"Don't forget to close the door on your way out." 

--------

"I'm taking Kaveh off the list."

"No, it's nothing personal– never mind. Yes, it is. Alice, I can't tolerate it. If I could swap out Venti for Scaramouche on 5wirl, I would. They're too enmeshed with my assistant's business. They don't know (Y/n) any longer than I have, yet they act like they've been friends with them since they were young while they can barely recall who I am."

"I've looked at Kaveh's file and honestly, only an idiot would miss that he wants to join TeyvatProductions to spite me. He knows my history with (Y/n). He knows what I did to their old company."

"... Hah. Please. They're not going to resign. I listen to their phone calls– they're not going to leave until they pay off their student loans and other debts."

You swallowed dryly. By now you were supposed to be at home, but Miss Minci instructed you to return Alhaitham's folder with her revisions and now you can't help but listen while hiding behind the bookshelf in morbid curiosity.

Consequently, you are now hearing sounds that were not intended for your ears.

"... (Y/n)? A pet?"

Alhaitham laughed.

A pet...?

Your breath hitched as you recalled a conversation you had with Venti months prior.

---------

"Haven't you ever wondered why the big boss never takes his earphone out?"

Whenever you two are alone together, Venti makes sure you turn off your phone when speaking to him. You never understood the reason why before this talk.

"Nope."

"Seriously?" Venti blew a raspberry. "Bullshit– ain't no way. You've never thought that, hmm, maybe he's listening to our conversations? Not even once?"

Alhaitham looks at you like an ant lining up in a row: with clear indifference and little regard, yet he is confident that you serve a purpose no matter how insignificant it may be. You noticed that the ability to exercise control matters to him. Alhaitham is obsessed with omniscience in the most subtle way. He is slightly despised by his people, therefore he used you as a subpar pawn to observe their behavior.

Deep down, you know he has no need for an assistant; you're only here to boost his pride. Hence, you tossed that hypothesis out the window.

"No, I doubt he has the time for that." You said after contemplating.

"Gosh, you're naive," Venti sighed. "You're book smart but not street smart, aren't you?"

"Hah?"

"C'mon, just admit it, (Y/n)," the idol frowned.

"Isn't it obvious that Alhaitham's keeping you like a pet?"

----------

So that's what you are.

Now that you overheard Alhaitham's phone call, everything pieced itself together and it terrifies you.

"They're not a pet to me. They were once my mentor–" Alhaitham muttered.

You took a step back.

Shit.

He must've heard that.

You didn't mean to snoop around. You're not a bad person. You just wanted to drop a few more folders. You didn't mean to eavesdrop–

"... (Y/n), are you there?"

You didn't breathe as you continued hiding behind the bookshelf.

You can't handle this right now. Confrontations are something you do not trust yourself with. 

You stole a glance at Alhaitham as if seeing him for the first time. There sat a man with a veneer of calm. A man you've never met before.

"... Hmph."

Alhaitham pulled out his phone.

His face, his smirk, his breathing... they're now entirely alien to you.

Your phone rang.

"I AM HERE."

Your blood froze.

Anxiety coursed through your veins, not to recede but to possess. Your reaction is almost immediate yet his impinged movements served to make your heart run faster. You propel your heels to the door in a noisy attempt to leave even while you heard his chair drag against the floor, making his way toward you effortlessly. 

Then his cold hand was clamped above yours, holding you and the doorknob with intense firmness.

You trembled.

His grip feels like deja vu.

"There you are. Why are you still here, my assistant?" 

ANSYTEA: hehe thank you ✾ anon for joining the 1k event <333!!!

[lalunanymph]

just saw a tweet where kaku shows his goofy side whenever he's around takemitchy and izana when he's usually seen stoic makes me go 🥺🥰😍💕😚 now imagine the rest of the bonten executives being shocked to see for the first time kaku smiling and giggling together with his beloved. like they go "kaku laughing???? bonten number 3 who ruthlessly tortures traitors SMILING???" it's a sight to see for bonten since they've never seen him crack a smile when they joke around. they (sanzu and ran probably) even tried to tickle him but nope, hard as a steel. and they see you, just standing there, effortlessly make kaku smile and laugh. ughjdhf just this makes me go soft i love him sm your honor

SOBBING I LOVE THIS MAN SM & OMG YES I SAW THAT TWEET TOO PLEASE KAKU DESERVES ALL THE HAPPINESS IN THE WORLD *shakes fist at wakui* ;_;

it’s a fact well known to almost everyone who encounters him that kakucho was not an approachable guy.

always with a pinch in his brow, downturned corners of his mouth and his head low, he breezed like a spectre in and out of bonten; never really touching base with anyone unless it was for a mission or paperwork.

even his fellow executives knew how prickly and taciturn he could be—he wasn’t their superior and the third most dangerous man in japan for nothing.

countless times they had tried to cajole a smile from him; ran and rindou would rib him unlike how older brothers would while plying him with whores and drink to get him to loosen up. sanzu once slipped a little coke into his coffee, but kakucho had mercifully been called into a meeting and discarded the cup before he could take a sip.

takeomi and koko both made it a point to ask him how he was because if they didn’t, there wouldn’t be a peep coming from the dark haired man. sometimes, he spoke to mikey but it was usually in formal settings and when his opinion was needed for some dark matter or another.

but, there was a little known blip to his façade and it came in the form of heels clicking on the tar road; a skirt swaying with every purposeful step and eyes that softened when you found your husband in front of the headquarters.

ran had been lounging in the lobby when he noticed kakucho slipping out. curious at the fact that bonten’s third was away from his desk at such an early period of the day, he makes it a point to follow him—you know, just in case he needed to provide backup.

but what he sees stuns him for a good minute.

kakucho smiling. kakucho laughing. kakucho returning some random woman’s hug.

holy shit.

ran makes a quick phone call and the rest of the trio joins him, sanzu bringing up the rear. “this better be good, haitani,” he mutters churlishly. the pink haired man pauses when ran lifts one slender finger in the direction of the entrance.

sanzu squints.“… what the hell is wrong with kaku’s face?”

“he’s smiling, dumbass,” rin deadpans.

bonten’s number two has to rub his eyes, double checking if the drugs are fucking him up more than usual. but no, it’s crystal clear—kakucho, the fearsome executive, his equal in strength and loyalty, was flashing his pearly whites and chuckling at something you had said.

it would’ve creeped him out if he wasn’t aware of who you were. “of course. s’only his little wifey that can make that poor bastard smile.”

ran and rin whip their heads around so fast, they would’ve nearly broken their necks. “he has a wife?!”

sanzu nearly winces; damn haitani brothers and their freakish twin-like unisons. he shrugs, running on the high of a well kept secret that only he, mikey and kaku knew—the three biggest fishes in bonten privy to the inner workings of each other’s lives in case someone had to take over when mikey was indisposed.

“yeah,” sanzu shrugs. “heard from mikey that she makes a mean miso soup and casserole, too.”

he chuckles and tucks his hands in his pockets, waltzing away and leaving both the brothers to flounder and curse at how they weren’t special enough to receive access to this top secret information.

as it turns out, kakucho is damn near possessive with the people he loves and would not stain them with his dark occupation if he could.

after all, there’s not many people left in this world who could make him smile brighter than the sun—not quite like how you could do it.

[littlefreya]

Vanilla Milkshake

Summer: Henry and a long time friend hangout at their usual spot when things turn chaotic because of an innocent misunderstanding...

Prompted by:  

 Oooh Freyaaaa I just *need* some scene featuring Henry and ofc drinking milkshake. 

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Unamed OFC (no description of ethnicity or body type).

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: RPF, major fluff, friends to lovers, sexual innuendo, mild seduction, sex talk, an unwanted boner, Henry being a boomer, Henry having a meltdown. 

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own.*

A/N: So, first thing first, thanks @agniavateira for quickly beta’ing my work! And of course thanks @the-soot-sprite for bouncing ideas with me and being an emotional support. Decided to go with friends for lovers because I live for that stuff. Also, I am aware that “Milkshake” can be interpreted in several ways but for the sake of the story I went with that particular reference. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed.  🖤

Title: Vanilla Milkshake

“I swear, this diner looks like Barbie had an orgasm all over the place.” A whimsical grin sliced between Henry’s marble cheeks. Eyeing the pastel-esque surroundings, he huffed scornfully and adjusted the cap over his nest of unruly curls. 

“Remind me again why we always meet here, young lady?”

Staring at the beastly man who barely managed to squeeze into the plastic-pink faux leather booth, she couldn’t help but chuckle. Henry carried himself with something that was both eloquent yet unmistakably feral, reminding her of a burly forest creature. Sturdy tree trunks stood for limbs, torso, and shoulders—the widths of icy mountains and a blanket of thick fur coated the entirety of his body, deeming him a dangerous bear. 

No wonder he preferred himself clean-shaven. The sharpened edge of a razor kept him a cut away from becoming ‘Henry the Barbarian’. 

Seeing him surrounded by pastel and sparkly fairy dust brought far more joy than she could ever imagine. The utter look of contempt gleamed on the surface of his shifty eyes. 

Oh, by God, how much he hated glitter!

“And what would you know about Barbie’s orgasms?” she teased with a crooked eyebrow and a comical suspicious glare. 

Readjusting his cap over the messy mane of chocolate curls, Henry offered a terrible wink and shrugged, “a gentleman never tells.”

Her fingers rapped on her thigh while she contemplated whether to allow this naughty joke slide, but then the urge to provoke him was far too great. After briefly chewing on the inside of her cheek, she broke into a wicked grin.

“Is that… like a role play you have with the missus? She’s Barbie, and you’re G.I.Joe? Because I kinda don’t want to hear about it, but then I kinda do.”

Henry’s smile gradually faded along with the playful glee in his eyes, his melancholic gaze dropping to the sparkly table. He slumped into a heavy sigh, “If by missus, you mean ‘Miss Hand’, then no… not really.”

Dumbfounded, she frowned at Henry with confusion when then it struck her; a sense of incredible embarrassment drained the blood from her head to her gut.

“Oh…”

“Yep.” Henry blurted and grabbed the menu, pretending to be incredibly interested in the kids’ meal options. 

Just in time to rescue them from a prolonged awkward silence, the waitress arrived with their order, serving Henry a hot cup of double espresso while she received a tall glass of a luscious vanilla milkshake. 

“Enjoy your drinks, guys!” the waitress smiled sweetly and kept her eyes glued to Henry as she walked away. But the gloss of the waitress’ flirtatious excitement was lost on him; drenched with greed, Henry’s blue sapphires were fixated on the generous scoops of ice cream and the dark chocolate swirls that decorated his companion’s dessert. 

“Henry, my eyes are up here!” she provoked and grabbed the straw between two fingers while throwing an amused glance at his simple cup of coffee. Henry followed her gaze and scoffed before raising the cup to his mouth and blowing to cool his drink.

The way his lips pursed together and his finger stroked the ceramic surface did not escape her observation. A sudden tingle swam down the length of her spine once it resonated in her mind that kind, charming, and beastly Henry was now single. Here they were, long time buddies, but now sitting together felt less comfortable than before. Her limbs felt like pins and needles while staring directly at his eyes was as risky as staring at the sun.  

“Cheers,” Henry mumbled and took a sip from his cup. 

Almost jolting in her seat, she stiffened and then grabbed her straw.

“Cheers.”

Giggles came from the other side of the diner. Among the retro gumball machines and rounded plastic bar stools, the waitress and a colleague leaned against the counter and stared at Henry, who turned his head for a brief moment and tipped his head.

Their giggles turned even louder.

She frowned. 

“So, have you been single for a while?” she heard herself asking with a rather urgent tone. Right away, a look of contrition crept on her face as she regretted her verbal onslaught and lack of sensitivity. 

Henry directed his gaze back to her and watched as she slowly sipped from the milkshake and then suckled the cream off her mouth. 

Absentmindedly, he licked his lips. “Since May. How about you, weren’t you with…?”

“No, ended, dodged a bullet.” she spat and pumped the straw up and down the thick beverage. “My milkshake brings all the boys… except it doesn't.” she sighed.

Henry frowned and shook his head with confusion. “What? You never told me you make your own milkshake. How come I never had some?” 

Her face abruptly froze, her eyes rounded with surprise before she snorted so loudly the waitresses stopped their whispering.

“Umm… Hen?” she called out, trying to hold herself from bursting into chuckles as her friend accidentally asked for a very sexual favour, “you honestly don’t know what ‘milkshake’ is slang for...?”

“Uh…”

“Omg, you’re such a boomer.” 

“No, I was born in ‘83! I’m a millennial. But please, indulge me.” he begged and crossed his arms together.

Clearing her throat loudly, she did her best to fight the wicked grin that stretched on her already painful cheeks and wrapped her fist around the straw. “So you know... how… certain male bodily fluids are sometimes white and creamy...? And when you perform a certain motion it’s like you’re shaking it…?”

Henry blinked and became silent. An unbidden rush of blood pooled at his groin as he watched her thumb graze over the tip of the straw and her fist pumping it into the smooth liquid in a slow, gentle motion. Wickedness glazed her eyes, but he tried to dismiss it as nothing but their usual playful banter; yet his adam’s apple bobbed up and down while his shoulder tensed at the oddly arousing sight of her performing a sinful act on a milkshake. 

There was an unmistakable stir in his cock and for once, he was thankful for narrow spaces as it hid his predicament.

Leaning forward, she opened her mouth and swirled her tongue around the straw. She went deliberately slow, making him watch while she playfully licked and suckled the tip until finally wrapping her lips around it and taking a generous sip.

Henry gawked utterly smitten, unaware that his jaw was nearly at the floor.

And to make things worse, she moaned—not too loud—but definitely enough to make his shaft harden more.

She wasn’t sure what stirred this whimsical boost of confidence, only that seeing the large, handsome man pale at her provocations made her feel like the most powerful woman on earth. She also gathered she’d regret it forever and a day once they’ll part ways, but it was too late for that now.

Gingerly she pulled back, though not before allowing a single drop of cream to trickle down the corner of her lips.

“Oops,” she smirked casually, wiping the cream with her fingertip and sucking it clean. 

“Please stop…” 

It was then when she noticed that Henry’s playful mien was all but gone. Far from amused, he glowered with a clenched jaw. “If you’re going to keep doing that, I’ll have to leave,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

A rush of panic made her freeze in her spot, the same needles that pricked her skin were now setting jolts of electric bursts. “I’m so sorry, I crossed the line,” she said and covered her mouth with shame, “did I offend you? Do you want me to leave?”

“What? No, no, not at all.” Henry’s voice softened right away, and he reached a hand in the air, as if trying to stop her from leaving. The last thing he wanted now is for her to think he is angry with her. If anything, he wished they could spend more time together, not because of his obvious arousal, but because for the first time in a long while, he was having fun.

Still, she looked at him so utterly distraught.  

“Then…?” 

Henry scanned the diner as if trying to make sure no one was staring or taking any photo and then shifted in his seat uncomfortably. His eyes altered between his spread thighs and her several times, trying to signal toward his… trouble.

“Oh...” she gaped. 

An odd sense of pride began to permeate her chest, battling over the burning embarrassment that flamed up her neck and cheeks. At this point, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel, only that it was definitely the most awkward hangout they had to date. 

Problem was, she never knew when to shut up. 

“Is little Henry hungry?”

Hearing those words, his brows dropped to an irritated sulk. “There is nothing little about it.”

“Ha! Prove it!”

It was as if the entire diner and perhaps the world fell into silence. Had the clatter of the dishes being washed in the back kitchen not rung their ears, she would have thought she grew suddenly deaf. 

“I didn’t mean it… sorry, I’ll stop,” she mumbled slowly and pressed her fingers to her mouth while shaking her head at her stupid behaviour. That was it, this was to be the last afternoon she would ever hang out with Henry and right now, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him.

Henry chewed onto the inside of his cheeks, trying to stop the words that came faster than his thoughts.

“You didn’t?... Because I’ll definitely be up for proving...”

She blinked at his words and tilted her head, hoping that he won’t notice the wild tremors that shook her limbs, “What was that?” 

“I... yes? No?...I… fuck!” 

Henry lowered his head and slapped his palms across his face, rubbing back and forth with an utter meltdown while mumbling, “Forgive me,” a couple of times. He couldn’t care less of what the waitresses or whoever was watching would think of him; all he cared about was to make her feel comfortable around him again and maybe… even make her like him?

“Henry?”

Soft and warm her voice called to him, slowly pulling him from his anguish like a sailor being rescued from a sunken ship. His blue sapphires shone, an ocean of confusion and anxiety still pooling within while he peered back at her face that was now smiling at him a mixture of comfort and exhilaration. 

“Would you like some of my milkshake?”

[moonctzeny]

Promotion

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

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

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

word count: almost 14k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Donghyuck, Donghyuck, Donghyuck

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hated seeing you sad.

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

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

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

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

This is not a date, he reminded himself. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are pretty”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Donghyuck, I will step on you.”

“Mmm, tempting”

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

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

“I’m sorry”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It doesn’t matter. Goodnight y/n.”

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

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

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

And you aren’t ready to leave yet.

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me you want this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Donghyuck?”

“Yes?”

“Is your cat still alive?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

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

“Oh my god, yes, right there”

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

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But we don’t have a condom”

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

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

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

“Fuck. This feels so good”

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

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

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

“Fuck fuck, I’m coming”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Donghyuck! Hyuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you forget about this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Johnny.

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

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

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

“Well, isn’t it my favourite intern”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have I seen you in that before?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d like you better without it.”

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

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

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

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

“You love all my skirts Johnny”

“I do. Because I can do this”

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

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

“Someone might see us.”

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

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

“Johnny…”

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

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

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

Donghyuck was staring right back at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s on call, come back later.”

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

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

“No panties huh?”

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

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

“Like what you see?”

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

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

“I could die after this”

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

“But-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Donghyuck, please. More”

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

“More? Look at you. Pretty slut.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“What would you do to me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Donghyuck?!”

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

“I… We-“

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

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

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

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

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

“Shall we start?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s the occasion?”

“I got promoted!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When were you gonna tell me?”

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

“I’m sorry?”

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

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

“I didn’t tell him-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We haven’t actually…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s a little brat”

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

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

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

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

“Oh god, yes, yes, yes”

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

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

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

“Fuck”

“Tight, isn’t she?”

“So fucking tight baby, damn”

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

“I have to feel that again”

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

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

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

“Maybe you don’t fuck her hard enough”

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

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

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

“Is that hard enough for you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need your big cock inside me, please”

“Ass up”

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

“You’re still not used to me babe?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Mr. Suh”

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

“Yes sir”

“What a good girl”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir. I love it”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[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).

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Stalker (Ending A) (L.MH)

Warnings : swearing, mentions of one night stands, partying, alcohol

Word Count : 6210

Synopsis : he saw her everywhere he was, so the only logical conclusion is that she’s stalking him. he finally had enough and confronted her, but she had no idea who hyunjin was. he refused to listen to her until lee minho came to her rescue, effectively shutting hyunjin up. it was a small lie that made him face feelings he didn’t expect, and began a love triangle no one thought possible. but little did they know, she only had eyes for her best friend.

Author’s Note : i’m back! and while i was gone, i wrote a lot of new imagines. figured i’d start posting again, starting with this hyunjin/minho imagine. hyunjin’s ending will be up tomorrow!

He had never seen her before, but suddenly she was everywhere. Every party, every café, absolutely everywhere, and Hyunjin couldn’t help but think she was stalking him. What other explanation could there be to her being at every place she was at?

At first, he thought it was adorable. He saw her as an adoring fan just working up the courage to talk to him. But when he spotted her across the room with her phone up, seemingly taking pictures of her, he had enough. He stormed over to her, slamming his half full cup on a nearby table before grabbing her phone from her hands, causing her to look up at him with a look of annoyance. “Give it back.”

“Stop taking pictures of me! Stop stalking me! I’m tired of seeing your face everywhere.” He yelled, holding her phone up in the air so she couldn’t reach it. She crossed her arms across her chest as her brows furrowed together, confused as to why this stranger would think she was following him.

“There’s got to be a misunderstanding.” She tried to explain, but he interrupted her, telling her not to make excuses, saying he had caught her red-handed taking pictures of him. “Look at my phone, dude.” He brought it closer to her face, seeing that the camera was not open, but a text conversation was, the last text sent asking where this person was.

Before either one of them could say anything else, someone draped their arm across her shoulders, causing both of them to meet the eyes of Lee Minho, leader of the dance team. “Is there an issue?” Minho asked, pulling the girl closer to his body. She was too much in shock at the situation to push herself away from him.

“Yes. This girl is stalking me!” Hyunjin exclaimed, earning an eye roll from the girl tucked into Minho’s side.

“You mean my girlfriend?” The crowd that was beginning to gather gasped at the new information, whispers quickly erupting from the crowd. “I can assure you she isn’t stalking you, Hyunjin. Babe, are you stalking Hyunjin?” His attention moved from Hyunjin to the girl he claimed was his girlfriend.

“I don’t even know who he is if I’m honest.” She shrugged, looking from Minho to Hyunjin, who now seemed embarrassed by the amount of people surrounding them. “Can I have my phone back now?” Hyunjin slowly slid the phone into her open hand, quietly apologizing to the mystery girl, the girl apparently dating Minho, a man he looks up to. “You didn’t have to do that.” She told Minho after Hyunjin walked away and the crowd dispersed, enjoying the party.

“Hyunjin’s a dick, he deserved to be put in his place. He thinks he’s all that and that girls fall at his feet; this was a well-deserved reality check.” Minho smiled. “I’m guessing you were looking for a friend?” She nodded, looking to see if Jisung had responded to her text to no avail.

“Looks like he’s probably wrapped up with something else.” She mumbled hoping Minho wouldn’t hear, but he did.

“Looks like I’m your company for the night.” He smiled as he pulled her towards the kitchen where the drinks were laid out on the counter. “Pick your poison.” He joked. His smile was intoxicating to her, almost addictive and she didn’t want to look away. She had heard of the infamous dance team leader, Lee Minho, but their paths never crossed before tonight. And she could see why he was so popular.

He was handsome in a way she’d never seen before. He looked like the kind of guy that was cold and aloof, but when he smiled at her, her heart felt safe. Like she could share her deepest secrets with him, and he would take them to the grave, not uttering a word of them to anyone.

She was addicted to the scent wafting off of him into her nose, a very natural and clean scent, different than other guys with their overwhelming cologne. As the two talked the whole night, she found herself not wanting to leave, now understanding how all the girls easily fall for his charms.

He was notorious around the university for being charming without even trying; girls flocking towards him, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. But he was standing in front of her, all of his attention on her, his eyes not leaving her, not even when people around them were calling his name. He was intrigued by this girl he had never seen before and wanted to learn more.

Minho wanted to learn everything about this mystery girl, but he didn’t know why. He wanted to learn her likes and dislikes. Her pet peeves and things she does when she feels stressed. Does she have any pets? What are her parents like? What’s her major? There were so many things to learn, but a party didn’t seem like the right place to ask hard hitting questions. He wanted to spend as long as he could in her presence, learning about her, but even eternity didn’t seem like long enough.

He wasn’t sure what came over him; no other girl ever made him feel like this. None of his ex-girlfriends made him this curious. Was it the way she didn’t fall at Hyunjin’s feet like every other girl at this school? Maybe it was the way she laughed at all his jokes, even the bad ones. The way her lips upturned as her smiled widened before her mouth opened, letting out a laugh that Minho could listen to for years and not get tired of.

She was confident in the way she carried herself, but not in a cocky way. She held eye contact as they spoke, not shying away when he complimented her. It was like she knew she was beautiful and didn’t need anyone to tell her. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he pretended it wasn’t and tried to hold conversation as normal. Is this what the people call love at first sight?

Before either of them knew it, the music was turned off. The house that was once filled with people, was near empty as a few drunk stragglers stayed behind, waiting for someone to help them home. “Oh wow, is it 4 in the morning already?” Minho asked, looking down at his phone that was apparently blowing up the entire time he was with Y/N, and he had no idea. He was so entranced by her beauty he didn’t feel the vibrations coming from his pocket. “Let me take you home.” She quickly agreed, loving the idea of spending more time with him. He placed his hand on her lower back as he led her out of the house and to his car parked down the street.

The two made conversation the entire drive, they didn’t even realize there was no music playing. Not even a second of silence was shared between them as their connection seemed to grow stronger. “Thank you.” She told him as they pulled up to her apartment building.

“Can I get your number? I’d really like to see you again.” She smiled, holding out her hand for his phone that he happily handed over.

“I suppose it’s the least I could do seeing as we’re apparently dating.” For what seemed like the millionth time that night, a blush crept up onto his cheeks as he took his phone back. “I hope to see you soon, Minho.” With that, she left his car and headed up to her apartment.

Had her heart not already belonged to her best friend, Han Jisung, she would have kissed him. She was hardly ever one to sit idly by and allow her feelings to go unsaid, except when it came to Han Jisung, school playboy.

Just as Minho was notorious, Jisung was as well. Jisung was a womanizer, and he loved it. Y/N was there whenever he needed help getting away from a one-night stand who wanted more. In fact, that’s why she was everywhere Hyunjin seemed to be. Jisung would invite her to parties he was invited to so she was close in case he needed her. He would call her to cafes he invited the women to if they weren’t gone when he woke up, seemingly as a nice gesture. But Y/N would be there to act like the jealous, angry girlfriend, either scaring off the girl or dragging Jisung out and effectively getting him away.

If Hyunjin paid more attention, he would see that she never noticed him. Her eyes were trained on the door, looking for the one man that gave her butterflies. He would notice the tears in her eyes as she once again acted like a girlfriend catching her boyfriend cheating. He would see how her face lit up when Jisung’s attention was trained on her instead of someone else. How her cheeks would turn a pretty pink colour when he would wrap his arms around her. If Hyunjin just paid a little more attention, he would see that she only ever had eyes for Han Jisung.

She woke up the next morning when her phone rang with Jisung’s familiar ringtone. “Regular café.” Was all he said before he hung up. She begrudgingly got herself out of bed, throwing on a simple outfit and making herself look presentable. If only her heart didn’t belong to Han Jisung, maybe she could tell him no.

She sat at her regular table, looking at her phone and glancing at the door every time the bell above it chimed. Tears pricked her eyes when Jisung walked in, his arm draped across the beautiful girls shoulders, his famous smile dancing across his lips. She watched from her spot as they got into the growing lineup, talking about something. She was so focused on the two of them, she didn’t notice her phone going off in her hands until it was too late and the call went to voicemail.

She waited until Jisung and the girl sat at a table before making her move. She stormed over to their table, her iced coffee in hand. Jisung’s eyes widened when he saw her, playing the part of a boyfriend just caught cheating. “Who are you?” She asked, allowing her voice to crack just enough to make her seem heartbroken. The girl looked between her and Jisung, confused as to what was going on. “I’m asking who you are! What are you doing with my boyfriend?” She tried to keep her voice low and even, not wanting to disturb other peoples day with her fake drama.

“Oh my god, I had no idea!” The girls eyes widened as she stood from the table, her hands up in surrender. “I swear I thought he was single. Jisung, you need to treat your girlfriend better!” She turned her attention to the man at the table. “I’m so sorry. You deserve better.” With that, the girl took her leave, allowing Y/N to sit at the table and Jisung to relax.

“You’re seriously the best friend ever.” She was silent as she nodded, staring at the text on her phone from Minho. “So I heard you’re dating Minho? Think he’d be okay that you act like my girlfriend sometimes?” Jisung chuckled, trying to lighten the sour mood.

“I’m not a huge fan.” Jisung spun around in his chair, his eyes meeting Minho’s. She smiled when she saw him, ushering him to join them.

“It’s nothing major, dude. She just says she’s my girlfriend to shake off one-night stands that want more. You know how it is.” Jisung shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee.

“No, I don’t know how it is.” Minho’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Jisung, not liking this guy one bit. He hated this guy more than he disliked Hyunjin. Minho had never met a more appalling human being. He could see the heartbreak written all over her face, knowing her feelings for Jisung were more than platonic. Jisung had this beautiful, kind-hearted girl right in front of him, ready to give him the world, and he treated her like trash. Yet she stayed by his side, bending to his every whim. “Hope you don’t mind if I steal her for the rest of the day though. We have plans.” She happily stood from the table and followed Minho outside, not even waiting for Jisung’s answer.

He wanted to get her out of there, away from the man who seemed to break her heart more and more everyday. “Looks like you’re my knight in shining armour once again.” She smiled as the two fell into a similar rhythm as they walked beside each other. He didn’t want to be her knight in shining armour, he wanted to be her prince. He wanted to be the one that made her excited for the day ahead. “How can I repay you?” Silence fell over them when she asked that question. Minho stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed her hand, pulling her close to him.

“Date me.” He said. “Pretend to be my girlfriend for three months to make it believable. I’ll help you get over Han Jisung.” She didn’t even question how he knew, knowing they had a connection that was undeniable ever since they met last night.

“What would you get out of it?” She giggled, wondering why a man who was still practically a stranger would want to help her with a task that seemed impossible.

“I’d get to bring you to the dance studio to annoy Hyunjin.” He made up a lie on the spot, knowing that just getting to call her his girlfriend would be enough for him. The satisfaction of helping her heal her heart would absolutely be enough for him.

She didn’t even have to think about it and agreed almost immediately. Maybe Minho is exactly what she needs to move passed these unrequited feelings she’s had since high school.

They just stood there, staring into each other’s eyes, absolutely entranced by the other’s beauty, and without realizing it, they both were leaning in. Their lips met in the middle in a feverish kiss filled with passion and lust. He put everything he could in the kiss, hoping to silently show her his true feelings. She melted into the kiss, knowing now for certain that Lee Minho is exactly what she needed.

As promised, Minho invited her to the dance studio a few days later. She decided to pick up food on the way, knowing everyone would be hungry after practice. She made her way through the maze of dance studios in the performing arts building, bags of food in her hands and an excited smile on her face. Quietly, she opened the door, Minho immediately noticing her and stopping whatever he was doing. The other dancers turned to see what caught their leaders attention. Hyunjin rolled his eyes when he saw her, annoyed that she was officially showing up absolutely everywhere he went, the dance studio no longer an escape.

Minho walked towards her, taking the bags from her hands, and pressing a quick kiss to her lips and ushering her to the front of the room where he was standing previously. “Let’s take a quick break to eat the food my girlfriend brought for us.”  

They all sat in a circle, joking, and eating. Minho could barely keep his eyes off of her. She would meet his eyes every so often, only looking away to give attention to whoever was talking.

But if they paid closer attention, they would notice another set of eyes that couldn’t seem to look away from her. Hyunjin wondered what seemed different about her today that seemed to draw him in so much. Maybe it was the obvious kindness she possessed, buying the entire team food without ever meeting them before. Maybe it was the way she seemed to glow unlike the dull lifelessness she showed the other times he noticed her. Her smile was wide and her eyes seemed to sparkle, as if someone put stars in her eyes. She possessed a beauty he hadn’t noticed before, and he could feel the jealousy build in his chest every time she looked at Minho the way he wanted her to look at him.

Hyunjin found himself wanting to get closer to her, but he did his best to hide it. He laughed at the stories she told them, their eyes meeting for a brief second each time. And when the food was eaten and it was time to go over the routine one more time, he found himself putting his all into impressing her. Minho was the leader, but Hyunjin wanted to be the center of attention, the center of her attention.

She was amazed at the beautiful choreography that Minho put together, but her eyes seemed to drift towards Hyunjin. He seemed completely entranced in the music and his body moved as if it was a liquid. It was impossible to look away from Hyunjin when he danced; he looked so ethereal and she could finally see why so many girls begged for his attention. She would too had her heart not belonged to Jisung.

“Amazing.” She exclaimed with a wide smile, and Minho wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Hyunjin wished that was him. He watched from afar as she went on and on about the choreography, saying that Minho did such a great job. “Everyone did incredible!” She clapped her hands together, everyone’s attention now on her as they thanked her for not only her kind words, but the food she brought earlier.

“I hope she comes around more! I like her company, hyung.” Another one of the members, Felix, exclaimed with a smile that seemed to mirror hers.

“If no one minds, I’m sure she’ll come to more practices.” Minho beamed; his arm now draped across her shoulders. Flashbacks of the party came to Hyunjin’s mind, and he felt embarrassed all over again.

She snuck away from Minho while he was caught up in a conversation with a couple of the guys from the team. “You were really amazing, Hyunjin.” He was slightly startled when he heard her voice. “You looked absolutely ethereal and so in your element, it was hard to look away.” She admitted, her eyes not leaving his. He saw the confidence she carried herself with that made Minho fall for her so easily.

“Thank you.” His gratitude was sincere, and she could tell by the way his cheeks burned red. “I’m really sorry about what I said at the party.” She shook her head.

“The past is the past, don’t worry about it.” He could see why she was the girl Minho let his guard down too. She was the kind of girl you don’t encounter twice in a lifetime. She was the kind of girl you hold on to and hope she doesn’t let go. Hyunjin could tell families must adore her and wish for her as a daughter-in-law. And he wondered once again how he had never seen her before. She was the kind of girl that stood out in a crowd, not because she was the most beautiful, but because she had a glow to her that seemed to have a magnetic pull.

“I’ll see you around.” He didn’t want to walk away, but he would do something he would regret if he didn’t. Hyunjin wasn’t a homewrecker, even if it meant losing the perfect girl.

“Ready to go?” Minho asked as Hyunjin walked away. She smiled up at him, nodding. If he could, Minho would buy the world and gift it to her, that’s how much he had fallen for her in such a short amount of time.

Once again she found herself sitting at her regular table at the regular café, her eyes trained on the door, waiting for Jisung to walk through with whatever girl he was with this time. She didn’t feel as heartbroken as she did before, this last month with Minho helping more than she thought possible. Honestly, she felt more annoyed than anything. It was like Jisung didn’t call to hang out anymore, only to request her assistance. She wondered where the sweet and loveable Jisung from high school disappeared to, and who this fuckboy was that replaced him.

As she waited, she didn’t notice Hyunjin watching her from afar, wondering who she was waiting for with such an angry look on her face. He could see her biting her lip as her leg bounced, and he knew it wasn’t Minho. She was never anxious like this around Minho. He seemed to bring out the best in her. He noticed her glow was once again dull, and his curiosity was growing as each second passed.

When the bell chimed and her leg stopped bouncing, he looked towards the door to see the infamous Han Jisung. Was she waiting for him? What was her business with the fuckboy of campus? He watched as she watched Jisung sit down across from another girl, and she stood to make her way to him. Hyunjin stood as well, grabbing her by the wrist before she could approach the table Jisung sat at. “What are you doing?” He asked, concern in his eyes.

“Something I always do.” She replied, snatching her wrist back and approaching Jisung. Hyunjin watched from afar, ready to jump in if anything were to go wrong.

Since the campus knew of her and Minho’s relationship, she had to take a new approach: the annoying best friend. “Who’s this?” The girl asked as Y/N took a seat beside Jisung, Jisung immediately wrapping his arms around her.

“My best friend. You don’t mind if she joins us, right?” Of course the girl agreed, not wanting Jisung to have a bad impression of her, in hopes she could be the girl that changes him.

It only took 10 minutes of the two of them completely ignoring her, talking, and laughing with each other as if she wasn’t even there, for her to leave. “You’re the best.” Jisung said as he usually did. “I’ve missed you.” Her heart no longer fluttered at his words.

“I tried calling, you never picked up.” Jisung’s heart broke at the obvious distance she was putting between them. He knew it was his fault. He was pushing her away, hoping his growing feelings would disappear, but they only seemed to grow stronger. None of these girls seemed to compare to the girl he had right in front of him all this time, and he hates that it took him so long to realize that. He hates that another man noticed it before he did and she slipped through his fingers before he even realized she was leaving.

“I’ll be better, I promise. You’re my best friend, I can’t lose you.” She nodded. From his spot, Hyunjin could tell she wanted to disappear and he decided to give her an out.

“Hey Y/N, you coming to practice today?” She met Hyunjin’s eyes, and the sparkle he was used to seeing seemed to reappear in an instant, causing butterflies to erupt in his stomach.

“Of course!” She exclaimed with her heart-stopping smile, and Hyunjin could see the anger and jealousy bubbling up in Jisung.

“Want to grab something to eat from the diner from last time before practice?” She slung her purse over her shoulder and stood from the table, agreeing with the notion of food.

“You don’t need anything else from me, right Sungie?” The nickname she gave to him in high school rolled off her tongue before she could stop it. Little did she know the effect that simple name had on Jisung.

“Nope, go have fun. I’ll call you later.” Jealously bubbled inside Jisung as he watched her walk away with Hyunjin, his arm draped across her shoulders. He put distance between the two of them, and she seemed to replace him. They used to spend all day together and never get bored; their stomachs aching from all the laughter. Everything seemed to change overnight, and she was really slipping through his fingers.

“Usually Minho is the one to save me.” She joked as her and Hyunjin walked towards the diner the two of them went to the previous week. Ever since that first practice she attended, the two of them grew closer and she seemed to spend more time with him than Minho.

“How do you even know Han Jisung?” Hyunjin asked, the curiosity eating at him. She smiled at the memories of her and Jisung in high school. Back when she thought there was a possibility of her feelings being reciprocated, but when they got to university, Jisung seemed to do a compete 180 and became a different person.

“We met in high school and immediately became best friends. He wasn’t always like this.” Without prompting, she delved into the memories with Jisung. How he used to be really introverted and nervous around girls. How he was the kind of guy to show up at her house in the middle of night because she was sad. How he was the kind of guy to remember all the small details and surprise her with gifts that were absolutely perfect. He knew her better than she knew herself, and that’s why she fell for him. That’s why she bent over backwards for him.

Until Minho came along and showed her she deserved more. She deserved the kind of guy Jisung used to be, the kind of guy Minho is. She deserved someone who looks at her like she put the stars in the sky and was the reason the sun rose in the morning. She deserved someone who could see her radiance, someone who saw passed her outward beauty and saw the beauty she held within. Someone like Minho. Someone like Hyunjin.

Without realizing it, both Minho and Hyunjin fell for her. Without realizing it, she got over her feelings for Jisung, and began to fall for the two handsome men by her side. A love triangle no one expected.

As the 3-month mark inched closer, Minho felt nervous. He fell harder for her than he originally thought possible and didn’t want to let her go. He could already feel her slipping through his fingers as she spent nearly everyday with Hyunjin. The two of them got close seemingly overnight, and Minho could feel himself on the verge of exploding in anger and jealousy every time he saw them together.

She seemed to smile more and laugh louder with Hyunjin than she ever did with him. The man who claimed he didn’t like skin ship, the man who barely hugged his friends, was the same man who seemed to always be touching her in some way. His arm draped across her shoulders, his arms wrapped around her waist, his arm resting on her leg when they sat beside each other. And she didn’t seem to mind. She seemed to revel in the fact that Hyunjin’s attention was solely on her, barely noticing that she’s the only girl Minho has looked at since the party.

The 3-month mark inched closer with each passing second, and she found herself hoping it would never end. Where would her and Minho stand after this? Would he stay by her side or abandon her saying he did what he told her he would?

A part of her wanted to tell Minho she wanted to continue being with him, that she didn’t want to lose everything they built over these last couple months. But another part of her was also falling for Hyunjin. He was nothing like the man that confronted her at the party. He wasn’t the man in the rumours she was always hearing. Hwang Hyunjin was so much more.

She thought getting over Jisung would make her life easier. She could stick by his side and pretend like she never wished for anything more than friendship. She could watch him be a fuckboy and maybe one day fall in love without feeling the hurt in her chest. Little did she know the price of moving on was the confusion of falling for 2 men at the exact same time. But she fell for them for different reasons.

Lee Minho was very driven; completely focused on accomplishing his dreams. She thought he was the most handsome as he came up with new choreography. He was so focused on making it flow together and easy for the other follow along that he would barely notice her make her way into the studio, watching from afar as he moved to the music, completely immersed.

But when he would finally notice her, he would smile at her, his cold exterior completely shattering as he pulls her in for a hug, kissing the top of her head. He would ask for her opinion on his new dance, truly interested in what she thought despite her not being a dancer. Her opinion meant more to him than any others.

She loved watching him lead the dance team, helping them when he noticed them struggling, and beaming when they would nail the new choreography as if he was a proud father. She loved that he wasn’t afraid to show them how much he loved her, regardless of their relationship being fake. He would hold her and kiss her in front of the members and it gave her butterflies every single time.

But when it’s just the two of them and he’s open and vulnerable, that’s what she loves the most. His head in her lap as she plays with his hair while he talks about his dreams and his fears. She listens carefully, hanging onto his every word and reassuring him best she can. Little does she know; her words help him more than he would ever admit.

She fell for him with every kiss, every touch, every late night spent talking. He was only meant to help her get over her feelings for Jisung, and he did more than that without even realizing it.

And then there was Hwang Hyunjin; a man she never thought she would fall for. She didn’t want to be just another girl falling at his feet. She didn’t want to be just another fan standing in the crowd hoping he would look her way even once. But along the way, she couldn’t help but fall for him.

Just like Minho, Hyunjin was quite driven and focused on accomplishing his dreams. Dance was his passion and she could tell he was completely in his element while on the dance floor. He could take any choreography that Minho gave him and nail it almost immediately, looking absolutely ethereal while doing it.

But he was the most handsome behind the camera. Photography was a hobby she found out he had when she brought him along for a photography walk. He was beaming when she met up with him, his own camera around his neck, ready to snap pictures. The way his face would change from smiley to completely focused made her heart flutter in ways Minho couldn’t.

She felt comfortable with Hyunjin, able to open up to him about things she couldn’t even tell Jisung. Hyunjin was at her door anytime if she called. He was there to take her for late night drives when she just needed to think with no distractions. He would play her favourite songs and only speak when she pulled herself out of her thoughts.

Hyunjin was her personal hype man, getting excited even over little victories. When she aced her photography exam, he took her out to celebrate. When her assignment was chosen to compete for the school in the photography competition, his cheers were the loudest. When that same assignment won first place, shocking her into silence, he was the one pushing her towards the stage to accept her award, cheering and clapping even though everyone else was silent.

She fell for him during the silent drives when her head felt like it was about to explode, during the photography walks where she would catch him taking pictures of her instead of the scenery.

Minho gave her butterflies and made her realize she deserved so much more than Jisung was giving her. And Hyunjin made her feel calm and was by her side hyping her up for absolutely everything. They made her feel different things, and that’s why it felt near impossible to choose, but she knew she had to. But there was one thing she didn’t think of; did they even return her feelings?

“What do you do when you fall for 2 people at the same time?” She wondered out loud, Jisung sprawled out on her couch. He stared at her, studying the exhaustion on her face, this question obviously keeping her from sleeping properly.

He kept his promise of doing better, of being a better friend to her. He was tired of the distance between them, and even if she would never return his growing feelings, he wanted his best friend back. “You choose the one that makes you the happiest.” He answered simply before tossing another piece of popcorn in his mouth. “Choose the one you want to call when you get good news, and when you get bad news.” He continued, and the gears in her head were working double time. “Choose the one you feel most comfortable with, the one who makes you excited for the days ahead. Choose the one that all the love songs in the world seem to be about. The one you can see yourself dancing in the rain with. The one you can scream at during a petty argument, but in the same breath say you love them.” Jisung continued to name things and he did he realized he had always been in love with her.

She was the one he wanted to wake up to in the morning, kissing her before getting ready for the day. She was the one he always called when something happened, good or bad, and she was always there. The meaningless, cheesy love songs seemed to all be about her. He was immediately drawn to her in high school because she was his soulmate. But as he watched her ponder his words, he realized that he wasn’t hers. There was another man out there better than he ever could be. Another man that would make her happier than he ever could. And though he could feel his heart break, he would support her love if it brought back her earth-shatteringly beautiful smile.

One name came to mind for her when she thought over all of Jisung’s words. The man that came to mind when a love song played. The man that she wanted to share everything with; all the good news and the bad news. There was only one man she didn’t want to watch fall in love with someone else. And before she could chicken out, she ran out of her apartment, leaving Jisung on her couch, watching her run towards the love of her life.

       She knew exactly where to find him even at this late hour. She ran through the confusing maze of dance studios, determined to hold onto Lee Minho for as long as he will let her. She barged into the familiar dance studio; the same one she’s been going to almost every day to watch her fake boyfriend lead the dance team to success. But was the relationship ever fake?

Minho stopped mid routine when he heard the door slam open, confused as to who would bother him at such a late hour, especially with finals just around the corner. But when he saw her face, he didn’t care. He didn’t care that he couldn’t nail this one move that would complete his routine.

“I don’t want to break up.” She spat out from the other side of the room, her voice echoing around them. “I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and not be able to kiss you. I don’t want to watch you fall in love with someone who isn’t me.” She kept rambling, wanting all of her thoughts out in the open. She didn’t even notice him walking towards her with the same amount of determination on his face.

He didn’t let her finish her ramblings before pressing his lips to hers like had done many times before, but this time neither one of them held back. This kiss was filled with so much more passion and love than all the others in the past. This was the kind of kiss that took your breath away and had you begging for more. “Silly girl.” He smiled as he pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers. “There is no other girl for me. It was always going to be you.” She pressed her lips to his once more, the words I love you on the tip of her tongue, but they didn’t need to be said out loud for him to hear them. He heard them loud and clear.

[emerald-chaos]

Daydream

**gif not mine! credit to the owner**

So, I couldn't help myself. This is a continuation of my previous Bucky fic Insomnia because I just really enjoyed the dynamic between Bucky and the reader. I had a lot of fun writing this part and I love building things up between the two of them. If you guys like this or are interested in seeing more - please let me know! I love talking with people and hearing their ideas and such.

Much love xo.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2079

Warnings: cursing, struggles with mental illness, mentions of sex (nothing entirely explicit but better safe than sorry), alcohol use, and really poorly written jokes lmao

Fingers threaded into hair.

Hot, opened-mouth kisses marking every surface of your neck.

Nails trailing down his back leaving raised, red lines in their wake.

“Oh my god,” you groaned as you let your head fall back and continued to rock your hips into the man in front of you.

Strong hands tighten their hold on your hips, sure to leave purplish-blue bruises for the morning.

“C’mon, baby,” he grunted, face buried in your neck as he helped your body to grind against his, “I got you. Let go, fuck, let go for me.”

A pair of slender fingers snapped in front of your line of sight, tearing you from your daydream and bringing you harshly back to reality.

“Hmm, what was that?” You blinked a few times before you turned your attention to the redhead who you, apparently, had been having a conversation with.

“Are you serious?” She laughed, “I’ve been talking for the past 10 minutes! I looked over and you had that far off, glossy look in your eyes. Not to mention you’re bleeding.”

A hand found its way to your lower lip and you realized she was right. You had been so lost in wet dreamland that you chewed a layer of skin off of your lip. You hoped she didn’t notice the heat rising in your face as you cleared your throat, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table.

“Sorry,” you muttered, pressing the tissue against your injured lip, “guess I got lost in thought.”

“Is it one of those flashbacks again?” She asked kindly, facial expression softening.

You nodded quickly, knowing fully well that the statement was a lie. Your gaze drifted over the woman’s shoulder to the subject of your previous thoughts. It would be easier to explain the common occurrence of your PTSD than it would be to explain that you were reminiscing on the hot, steamy, passionate sex you had the night before.

Bucky was situated across the room, leaning against the counter as he talked to Rogers and Wilson. The unfortunately tight, black, short-sleeve t-shirt he was wearing left nothing to the imagination. It accentuated every muscle of the body you had gotten to know so intimately not more than 10 hours ago. His muscular arms were crossed at his chest and he was sporting his signature scowl. Everything about the sight sent a shiver down your spine. You finally had a taste and you wanted more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your friend’s voice gained your attention once more.

A small smile found its way to your lips as you met her gaze again. Apart from Bucky, Nat had always been a good trauma buddy of yours. From the beginning she had been someone you felt like you could confide in and someone who would understand your troubles. Sometimes you wondered if a requirement of joining the avengers was to have a fucked up, tragic backstory.

“I’m okay, Nat.” You reassured, “Just got lost in my head again.”

“Whatever you say. Maybe the party tonight will help you get your mind off of things,” She mused as she pushed herself from the couch to stand up. She paused briefly before she turned to you again, “you are coming, right?”

“Yeah,” you snorted, “Tony actually threatened me if I didn’t go this time, so, I guess I have to.”

After the last party you skipped out on, Tony cornered you in the hallway and gave you quite the interrogation. Then he went on a spiel about how staying in your room all day and all night was bad for you and that if he didn’t know better he would think you weren’t appreciative of what he’d done for you and blah, blah, blah. Tony really was a good person underneath all that hair gel. All he wanted was to help you break out of your shell and give you the family he knew you were lacking. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be a pushy asshole.

“Good, I’ll see you there. I’m sure Barnes will too.” A devilish grin painted her lips as she watched your jaw drop. Before you had a chance to say anything she was off down the hallway.

Fuckin’ Natasha.

*******

A pile of clothes littered your bed as you slipped another dress over your form. Not once in your life had you ever been concerned about what you were wearing or what you looked like, but there was something about tonight that made you want to turn heads. Your eyes raked down your figure as you twisted from side to side, admiring the way the black dress hugged your body in all the right places. Not to mention the thigh high slit in the dress showed off probably the only body part you weren’t self-conscious about. Tony, being the theatrical and over the top man he was, once said that you shouldn’t show up to his parties if you weren’t dressed to court a royal or to bring a man to his knees. Guess you were shooting for the latter.

As you put the finishing touches on your look for the evening, you felt that familiar heavy feeling settling into your chest. Your body always had a tendency to go into fight or flight mode when you became too familiar with anything or anyone. It felt like every fiber in your body was screaming for you to retreat into sweats and stay in your room, to not allow yourself this opportunity to enjoy the people you’d grown so close to. You know what happens when you let people in.

Grief, trauma, coping - it made it really difficult to live a “normal” life. Everyday tasks are daunting, it can be next to impossible to have intimate friendships or relationships, and not to mention the intrusive thoughts that infect your mind on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Here you were, the happiest you’d been in years. You were finally in a place where you felt loved, comfortable, safe - and yet your mind was trying to self-sabotage again.

You took a moment to close your eyes and take several deep breaths. When you opened your eyes you locked eyes with your reflection in the mirror and made a pact with the girl staring back at you. The intrusive thoughts and self-doubt couldn’t continue to have a hold over you anymore. You gave yourself a small smirk and nod as you made the decision to throw caution to the wind and give the party a try. What’s the worst that could happen?

*******

Come to find out, the worst that could happen would be your competitive nature overcoming the rational, thinking part of your brain; which in turn would lead you to enter in a drinking contest. Thankfully a small portion of your pink, smooth brain was still functional enough to tell you when you’d reached your limit. Now you sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked underneath you as you joyfully watched your friends argue.

“Dr. Banner, my friend, you are one of the most intelligent people I know. However, you are wrong.” Thor stated simply as he finished the rest of his drink.

“Thor, for the last time, water is not wet!” Bruce retorted, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You let out a loud snort before thinking, “Oh yeah, water. I should drink some water.”

Your feet planted themselves on the floor and slipped back into your pair of shoes. As you made your way to the kitchen you were pleasantly surprised by your balance and coordination, considering how much alcohol you’d consumed. Seems that drinking with Thor has done wonders for your tolerance.

While you were busy searching the refrigerator for a bottle of water, you were also oblivious to the soft sound of footsteps coming into the kitchen. After retrieving the beverage, you closed the door and turned to leave. Instead, you turned right into the chest of a figure that was definitely not there a moment ago. You yelped as you clutched a hand over your chest dramatically, your face filled with horror as though you’d just come face to face with the grim reaper.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes!” you scolded.

Bucky was holding his abdomen as he leaned back, consumed with laughter at your reaction. You huffed and wanted to be offended, but he looked so damn cute laughing that you couldn’t help but join him. You pushed his chest playfully and grumped as you hopped up to sit on the counter, opening the water to gulp about half of it down. Bucky couldn’t help but grin at your pouty state as he finished up his laughing fit.

“My apologies, sweets. Didn’t realize I’d be makin’ ya scream twice in one day.” He teased, grinning even wider as he did so.

Your jaw dropped at the comment, quickly looking around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen to hear what he had said. After seeing that the coast was clear you kicked your foot at him out of annoyance, only for his metal hand to catch it smoothly. The two of you locked eyes, motionless for a moment before he moved closer, sliding his hand from your ankle to your thigh. In the moment, you damned yourself for choosing this particular dress. The closer he got, the faster your breathing became. The contrast between his cold embrace and your flushed, warm skin sent a shiver down your spine. Abandoning the water bottle, you ran your hands up his abdomen and chest until they rested on his shoulders. Following a small nudge from his knee, you parted your legs to allow him space to stand between them. The heat in your face at an all time high as he pressed his flesh hand to your cheek.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you.” Bucky whispered as he stroked the apple of your cheek with his thumb. Each word that left his lips had you feeling way more intoxicated than any liquor you’d had all night.

As quickly as it started, his touch was gone and his back was turned as he opened the fridge. Before you had a chance to open your mouth to ask what the hell just happened, Tony was entering into the kitchen.

“Well, well, well. Surprised to see you here, Annie.” Tony beamed as he laid eyes on you.

Yes, Tony had nicknamed you after little orphan Annie. Yes, he also referred to himself lovingly as Daddy Warbucks. Yes, any person in their right mind would probably be offended, but you were just fucked up enough that you found it kind of hilarious.

“Wish I could say that it’s a pleasure, Tony.” You grumped back, upset that you’d been cockblocked and by Tony no less.

“Never lose that spunk, kid.” Tony winked as he turned to see Bucky retreating from the fridge with a beer in hand. “Inspector Gadget! Good to see you too.”

As much as you didn’t want to encourage him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Much to your dismay, Bucky simply raised his bottle to Tony as if to say “cheers” and padded out of the kitchen.

“He has such a way with words.” Tony teased as you rolled your eyes.

A sigh left your lips as you slipped off the counter and back onto the floor, muttering a “goodnight” before leaving the kitchen and heading back to your room. Although you wanted nothing more than to find Bucky and finish what he had started in the kitchen, you came to the conclusion that you were probably too drunk and definitely too tired.

Back in the comfort of your bedroom, you went about your normal nighttime routine. As you exited the bathroom, you couldn’t help but notice a piece of paper that had been slipped beneath your door. Grabbing the paper from the floor and plopping back onto your soft mattress, you opened it to read the note that was scribbled in black ink.

Never got the chance to tell you how gorgeous you looked tonight. Gotta say, I’m a big fan of that dress.

Sweet dreams.

- B.

When you finished the note, it felt as though you were floating on cloud 9. Even when you laid your head down and tried to welcome sleep, Bucky’s words were still replaying in your head over and over again - like they were lyrics to your new favorite song.

Turns out you were down for Bucky Barnes, and you were down bad.

[dourpeep]

dont look @ me ive been Fixated on the kazuxiaoreader au, SPECIFICALLY the modern au but like. yknow, reincarnated and xiao remembers his past life, that one. and ive been thinkin abt that. and like.

the Joy of not only bein able to meet his s/os again, (even if they dont remember anything abt their past lives in teyvat) but getting along well right off the bat and becoming best friends and then comes the pining.

like, sometimes, to xiao it feels as if theyre picking up where they left off as if reader and kazu never died in the first place. and then he remembers theyre not exactly together anymore, which is strange to think abt since they never broke up, and with the knowledge of the past xiao can clearly tell theyre all smitten.

so i feel like. since this is somewhat of a second chance at life and love, hed be a Little more bold, since he 1) knows how they feel, 2) DEARLY missed them, 3) feels as if his time with them was too short (since he lived so long and human lifetimes are super short in perspective And, bc we KNOW this man woulda taken SO long to warm up enough for an actual relationship to happen)

so like just imagine, the trio in xiaos bedroom (before being Official and before he got a bigger bed) like hangin out and reader is like

"3 best friends in a room~ they might kiss~" as a joke but not really and before kazu can shoot back with more joke but also not really flirting, xiaos like "they will." leaving kazu and reader stunned but like in a good way 🤌✨

he sips his drink and avoids their eyes like he didnt say anything afterwards cuz hes still shy but hey hes tryin. like comment and subscribe mwah

FOR SURE

Ugh god I love them so much. This little lovely trio...ahhh

--

After so long without his loves...? The lights of his life? The ones who singlehandedly could bring him back from the depths of his thoughts and the insecurities and fears that constantly eat at him???

The moment that he sees them he's already made his decision. Truthfully, he's decided mere decades into his newfound solitude following their passing.

No matter how long it would take, no matter how much wooing he would have to do (Xiao's cheeks flush at the thought of taking initiative--it's been a bit since he's held them in his arms), he would sweep them off their feet time and time again. Through any lifetime, any era-

Anything to be reunited with the ones he loves and the ones who love him in return.

Of course, it's sweet--when he does bump into you (as he finds you first again), you laugh and apologize because, ah of course his coffee has spilled over the front of his shirt. You pat his chest with a wad of hurriedly gathered napkins and he hasn't spoken a word.

It's you.

It really, truly is you.

You joke about how he's speechless. Something about if he's fallen in love with you or something and Xiao desperately wants to tell you that he's loved you all along. But he holds back for now because he remembers how Kazuha (way back when) teased Xiao for his eagerness in affection when the then-adeptus (now retired?) bluntly stated his intentions.

When he doesn't speak, you're concerned.

Then, he offers to buy you a drink.

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" The laugh that bubbles sends a shock through his system. He missed your laugh so much.

The realization of his offer hits him as well, though, and his cheeks flush a pretty pink and he looks off to the side as he mumbles a sweet compliment. That day, he goes home to his apartment $4.25 poorer with a smile on his lips and your number in his phone.

It's a few months later that he sees Kazuha.

Xiao should've known better than to run after the afternoon bus (that he'd just gotten off of) and really should've known better than to try to beat it to the next stop.

But the flash of pale hair with a chunk of striking red made his heart skip in his chest and mind go blank.

The coincidence of meeting you and the fact that there was someone--possibly--who could be his other long lost love was too important not to risk being late for his shift.

Luckily for him, though, the man stepped off the bus that next stop, gazing at Xiao with amused delight. But...rather than leaving the bus entirely, he stands on the last step (having let everyone else through), holding onto the side railing with his head tilted in question.

"Did you forget something?"

Of course, Kazuha hasn't lost the light tease to his words.

"You--" He wheezes a bit. That was a lot of running.

"Me?"

Kazuha steps off the bus now, the sounds of the air brakes puffing mingling with the sound of the vehicle accelerating away as soon as he's safely on the curb.

"No-! No I just-"

And Kazuha shakes his head with a smile, reassuring that he was only teasing the dark-haired man.

It turns out that Kazuha was only just moving back to the city after a while of living abroad. Thinking about this, Xiao can't help but chuckle. Both of you really haven't changed one bit.

A month later the three of you are reunited. On accident, actually.

Xiao planned to introduce you on a later date, but instead, at work, you both ended up surprising him unintentionally.

Definitely worth it to see the fluster on his face.

You...you already knew each other.

Thus!

The three of you begin to hang out more often. It was almost like before. Almost.

When you're all gathered in his room after his work shift, you sit on the bed with Kazuha laying across it, Xiao shuffling around his closet trying to find the right shirt. It's become pretty commonplace for you to be around each other (normally gathering at Xiao's place) to the point that a shirtless Xiao hardly is a head turner (well...okay no, it certainly is).

He joins you on the bed, gently nudging Kazuha to scoot to make room.

"3 best friends in a room~"

You lean heavily on Xiao's shoulder, laughing.

"They might kiss-!"

Kazuha flicks at you, lips parting to speak until-

"They will."

And for once, Xiao's rendered you both silent instead of the other way around.

It's palpable, the few moments following.

Kazuha's first, naturally, sitting up to face Xiao. In his chest, he can feel the familiar flutter of his heart, a whisper of that promise that he has long since forgotten. And you feel it as well. You've felt it long before you bumped into Xiao.

The fact that it's only gotten louder since meeting him, since reuniting with Kazuha? It can't be coincidence.

With bated breath, Kazuha leans in to brush his fingertips against your hand. Their lips touch.

And it feels like home.

[x-reader-theater]

I wish for you to feel as I do

summary: Spencer Reid has been dating his boyfriend for six years, but what happens when he finds out you’re killing to make him happy?

pairing: Spencer Reid x Male!Reader 

details: Unsub Reader

category: Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

word count: 8488

warnings: Reader as Unsub, rapey reader, controlling and manipulative reader, unhealthy relationship

a/n: This literally starts with smut so be warned. This was suuuuper fun to write! It’s an addition to this very short oneshot with an unsub reader, but I wanted to expand it because I just had so many ideas! @luvofyourlifeliv this is for your 500 follow contest so I hope you like it! As always, this is edited by @mystic-writes and I will upload it to Ao3 :) Enjoy! 

Moodboard by Me

You kiss Spencer, leaning over him, over his book, pushing it down. You smirk into the kiss, but Spencer turns away from you. 

"Hey! Hey!" he exclaims, trying to push you away, but you take the book from his hands and drop it onto the floor, before latching your lips to his neck. "I have work to do!"

"You read… 20,000 words a minute…" you say between kisses. "You can… read it… later…" 

Spencer moans into your mouth, and reaches his hands up, placing them on your cheeks and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. You bracket his legs with yours, and he gasps as you rub up against his growing erection. You reach down and take his half hard cock from his pants, stroking it until it becomes fully hard. 

When Spencer goes to do the same for you, he stops. Because you're not hard at all. 

You push off him and clear your throat, tucking yourself back into your pants and zipping them up. 

"[Y/N], it's okay!" Spencer exclaims, but you ignore him, and the hand he puts on your shoulder. "It's totally normal!" 

"It's not though!" you exclaim, turning to face Spencer and shrugging his hand off your arm. "We've been together for six years and I've never once had trouble… getting it up." 

You huff and stand up, walking to grab your keys and your wallet, shoving them into your pockets as Spencer says from the couch, "The Cleveland Clinic estimates that it’s normal to have trouble getting or keeping an erection for up to 20 percent of sexual encounters. Having trouble getting an erection more than 50 percent of the time can indicate a medical issue." You stop and look at him, and he stands up, walking over to you, taking your hand, and kissing the knuckles. "It's too early to know if anything really is wrong. Just… take a breath."

You nod and take a deep breath in, kissing his own knuckles back, before saying, "Okay. I just… I need a drink." Spencer nods and you pull away. "I'll probably be back after midnight, so just go to sleep without me." 

Spencer nods again and you exit your shared apartment. 

You don't really know where you're going, your feet are just taking you somewhere. You walk past a bus station and nearly knock into a young blonde woman. You just stumble out of the way of her. 

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" she exclaims, but you smile and shake your head. 

"It was my fault," you say, putting your hands up. She smiles at you. "I wasn't looking where I was going." She smiles and nods, and you stick your hand out, saying, "I'm [Y/N]. What's your name?" 

"Haley," she says with a smile, gripping your hand and shaking it. 

You smile at her. "You should be careful, Haley. A pretty woman, all alone. You could get hurt," you say, and she frowns. 

"That sounds like something my husband would say…" she trails off, but you're already walking away from her, a spring in your step as you walk into the first open bar you come across. 

It's dingy and musty, but it'll do the trick of getting you drunk enough to forget everything that happened with Spencer tonight. 

"I don't think I've seen you around here before," someone says next to you, and you turn and see a thin, pale man with curly brown hair and deep brown eyes. 

You gasp slightly at how much he looks like Spencer. "No, no I just kinda found my way here. I don't even know where I am," you admit as the bartender comes over. You order a beer and the Bartender nods and walks off.

"I come here a lot. It's my local, really," the man says and you nod, grabbing your freshly poured beer, and taking a long gulp, draining half of it before putting it down. "Maybe I could… show you why I like it so much?"

The man trails a finger along the lapel of your shirt, and you look over at him, eyebrows raised. You take out your wallet and pay for the beer, before being led out a back door, into an even dirtier alley. 

You could never hurt Spencer. You love him. You've loved him for years, and while you have no plans on getting married any time soon, you could see yourself being with him for the rest of your life. But, old habits are hard to break. 

The man pushes you into the brick wall and starts kissing you, but before anything can happen, you take out your knife from your pocket, flick it open, and stab it into the man currently trying to tongue fuck you. He gasps and steps back, and you stab him again, and again, and again, until you're sure he's dead. You step back, panting, your knife clenched in your hand, and you grin, flicking the knife closed and stuffing it back into your pants. You're very thankful, in that moment, that you're wearing all black. 

It is also at this point that it starts to rain. 

You grin as you walk away from the unknown man, and when you look down, you see there's a tent in your pants, and you start playing with it, moaning as you think of the body back there, of Spencer, your perfect little Spencer just waiting at home for you. 

You eventually find your way back to your apartment and step inside, taking off your soaked clothing and throwing it in a nearby hamper. You see your right thigh, where your knife was, and your chest, are stained slightly red. You take your wallet and phone out of your pockets and go into the bathroom to take a quick shower. Once you have the red scrubbed away, you dry off but don't put anything on. 

You're still fully hard, the images of the body and Spencer filling your head as you showered, and you stroked yourself languidly. 

When you get into bed, you smile at Spencer sleeping soundly, and you press yourself to his back, slotting your cock in between his ass cheeks, that are covered by TARDIS pajamas that you gave him for his twenty-eighth birthday. He moans and pushes back into you, not even fully awake yet, and you kiss the back of his neck, moving to his shoulder, where you suck a hickey into. 

Spencer moves his hands to your head as you buck up into his ass, and you know he's awake. He turns around in your hold and kisses you as you run your fingers through his long, wavy brown hair. You remember the way the man's brown hair looked splayed out on the stone floor of the alleyway, and you almost cum right there, groaning loudly into Spencer's open mouth. 

"What- what happened?" Spencer asks, reaching his hand down and grabbing your throbbing erection. You grunt and buck up into his hand, your hips moving of their own accord. 

You kiss him and say, "Just… needed to clear my head. Fuck, Spencer you're so hot." 

Spencer moans and grabs his own erection, slotting the two of yours together, and he pumps both of them in his fist. You kiss him, swallowing every grunt and moan that he makes, as well as his scream when he cums. You cum only seconds after him, but you're still hard in his grip. 

"I am going to fuck you all night, Spencer Reid." 

He only moans at that. 

–

"Hey, hey! Pretty Boy! Have a late night?" Morgan asks as he walks into the small office kitchen for the BAU. Spencer looks up at him, frowning as he adds more sugar to his coffee. 

"Yeah," Spencer says, his cheeks turning slightly pink, but he doesn't say anything more. 

"Let me guess, Star Trek marathon?" Morgan asks with a laugh and Spencer ducks his head as he goes even more red, remembering exactly what you marathoned with him last night. 

"Uh, ahem, something like that," Spencer says, clearing his throat, before stirring his sugary coffee and going back to his desk. 

"Hey- wait a minute!" Morgan exclaims, and Spencer tenses, getting ready for his friend's grilling, when JJ interrupts. 

"Hey! We have a case up in Syracuse. Hotch wants everyone in the Round Table Room in five," she says and Spencer lets out a breath of relief as he gets up and walks into said room, leaving a very confused Morgan behind. 

–

You groan as you get home, shedding your bloody, black clothes, and you smirk at your erection. You've had no problem getting it up for Spencer the last few months, just thinking about the man you killed making you hard on the spot. Recently though, it hasn't been enough. You found yourself having to imagine Spencer dead and that just won't do. You would never hurt the love of your life. Ever. 

You walk into the master bathroom and slip into the already-on shower, wrapping your arms around your lover, pressing your erection against his hole. 

"You're back," you say, rubbing yourself against him. 

Spencer hums and leans his head back onto your shoulder. "We just got in. I wanted to take a shower and see my amazing boyfriend," he says and you kiss him, on his neck, his shoulder, and all down his arm. You kiss his palm and the pads of each of his fingers. "Everyone else wanted to go out for drinks, but I told them I had to get home. I wanted to see you."

You moan into his skin as you suck on his shoulder, biting slightly. Spencer gasps and jumps and you lick over the wound, kissing it. You didn't break the skin, just bit gently. You would never hurt your baby. 

You pull back, looking at Spencer's back, the back of his head, his lithe body, his pert ass, and you think of the man you killed tonight. He also had brown hair and pale skin, but that's about where the similarities ended. He was shorter than Spencer, his hair shorter as well and less curly, but when you plunged your knife into his back, and felt his sides tighten, it felt like Spencer when he came. 

Your cock jumps against your boyfriend's ass, and you take the lube you have in your shower, sticking your fingers into his tight hole, pushing them in and scissoring him open. He pushes back onto your fingers and you hook them. He jumps and you have to hold his hip with your free hand so he doesn't slip and fall in the shower. 

You slick up your own cock and slam it in, causing Spencer to cry out in ecstasy as you pull out almost all the way, and slam back into him over and over. Spencer braces his arms on the shower wall, and the feeling of water cascading down your chest just makes it all even hotter. You think back to the first man you killed, how it rained right after you killed him, and how it's almost like it's raining now. Cleaning away your sins. Making you the perfect man for Spencer once again. 

You cum at that thought, shooting your load into Spencer's ass, who comes only seconds after, not having touched his cock once.

You pull out of him and turn him around, kissing him, and he's practically melting into you. 

"I love you," you say and he smiles, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. 

"I love you too," he says back. 

–

"Another long night?" Morgan asks, and Spencer frowns. He already got his coffee and Morgan didn't even see him make it this time. 

"What are you talking about?" Spencer asks, and Morgan points to Spencer's neck. He takes out the small, two inch mirror from his top desk drawer and almost drops it when he sees the large, purple and black bruise on his neck. You told him to forego the tie, and to leave his shirt unbuttoned since it was going to be another hot summer day today, but now he knows why you really did it. 

Spencer yelps and slaps a hand over the bruise, turning a deep shade of red as Morgan cackles. 

He comes home that night and you laugh at Morgan's reaction, before soothing Spencer, kissing his temple and telling him that you just want people to know you're his. He blushes, admitting that he'd like that too, and you ask to mark him again, this time right underneath his jaw. 

Spencer doesn't hesitate when he says yes. 

"Woah, Pretty Boy. You okay?" Morgan asks the next morning when Spencer walks in. "Did you get mugged or something?" 

Spencer frowns and touches the dark purple mark under his chin. "What? No." 

"Did your girl do this to you? Because I swear to God if she hurts you…" Morgan says and Spencer's eyes go wide. 

"No! No one hit me. My boyfriend gave me what I believe is called a 'hickey'," he says. 

Morgan frowns before asking, "Boyfriend?" Spencer nods. "I didn't know you were gay."

"You never asked, and I didn't have a reason to tell you," Spencer says casually, shrugging as he gets some files out and starts working on them. 

"How long have you two been together?" Morgan asks. 

"Today's the 16th so 6 years, 9 months, 3 weeks and 6 days," Spencer says, and Morgan's jaw drops. 

"Six years?!" he exclaims and Spencer nods. "And you haven't told anyone?" 

Spencer shrugs. "We never felt the need." 

Morgan stares at Reid, dumbfounded, the rest of the day. 

–

"Hey, baby?" you call out into the apartment from the entryway. 

"In here!" you hear Spencer call back. 

You walk to the back of the apartment and open the door to Spencer's study. He's sitting at his desk, writing something down on a legal pad, before looking back at a book next to him. You walk over and start kissing the side of his neck, mouthing up and down, and he shivers underneath your touch. 

"I'm going to go out and grab something," you say, kissing right behind his ear, making Spencer moan. "I'll be back tonight. I expect you to be in bed, naked." 

Spencer shivers, and when you come back an hour later, you see he followed your instructions perfectly. 

–

There's no witty remark from Morgan this morning. No quip about having a good time or marathoning or whatever. Just a smirk that makes Spencer beet red. 

Spencer's about to say something when JJ calls out to the team, "We have a case!" 

They all file into the round table room and sit down, getting handed files. JJ stands at the front of the room and the television turns on. 

"Last night, Riley Heartwood was found stabbed to death in downtown DC," JJ says. 

Spencer's breath leaves him. The man looks almost exactly like him. 

"When was he killed?" Morgan asks, not noticing Spencer. 

"It says here around 10pm last night," Rossi interjects. 

Spencer feels his heart stop as he looks over the files. 

Fred Giles, killed three months ago on the 28th, the day you couldn't get hard, and left, is the exact day and time that Giles was murdered. Then there's Terrance Lake, murdered the day you joined him in the shower, cumming at your normal time instead of taking longer than normal like you had been the last few days. And now Riley Heartwood, murdered last night right before you came home from grabbing something at the grocery store, hard and aching, and fucking Spencer until he screamed and forgot his own name for six minutes and twelve seconds. 

He feels his phone buzz in his pocket and he grabs it, seeing it's a text from you. 

To; Spencie 😘

From; [Y/N] 😍

I can't wait until you get home!

There's a picture attached with you sitting at his desk, shirtless and winking. 

Once is a happening. Twice is a coincidence. Thrice is a pattern. 

Spencer sits up suddenly, standing and grabbing the folder. "I-I have to go. Family Emergency," he mutters before sprinting out of the room. He grabs his messenger bag and makes sure his gun is still on his hip. 

–

You're sitting at home when you hear a gun cocking. 

"Please tell me you didn't kill that man last night?" Spencer asks. 

You sigh and turn around slowly, standing up from your couch. "You don't like it when I lie to you, Spencer." 

You see his hand tighten on the gun, but he doesn't put his finger on the trigger. You take a step forward, but he doesn't move back. 

"You're-you're impotent, aren't you?" Spencer asks. 

You smirk. "I wasn't last night when I was fucking you into the mattress and had you screaming out my name as my hands touched you." 

Spencer gasps, and his grip falters slightly. You dash forward and grab the gun from his grip, before pulling your body against his. You groan as your groin brushes against his, leaning down to nip at the hickey you put on him last night. 

"I-I have to arrest you. Take you in," he says, stuttering and nervous. 

You smirk and kiss him behind his ear, making him moan. "You would never. Besides, you could never catch me before I got to your mom…" 

Spencer freezes, but doesn't say anything. 

You lean down and press a kiss to his cheek, saying, "Please don't hate me." Spencer sucks in a breath as you kiss his cheek again. "I did this for you. I couldn't stop imagining myself hurting you, and I can't do that to you. Ever. I love you, Spencer Reid, and I just wanted to be the perfect boyfriend for you."

Spencer nods slowly. "They- they looked like me. The men you killed." 

You nod and turn Spencer around so he's facing you. "I don't want to ever hurt you, Spencer. I love you too much."

"You-you're a psychopath. How- you can't love me!" Spencer exclaims and you sigh, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

"If I can't, how did I fool you, a seasoned profiler, for six years?" you ask. 

Spencer stops as he thinks about it. If you were faking it, Spencer would have known. He would have seen it. He's seen psychopaths fake love before. Frank comes to mind when he first thinks of it. But, you aren't killing these men for yourself. You're doing it for Spencer. For the man you love. 

And as much as Spencer wants to turn you in, he can't deny the adrenaline that courses through him when he thinks about how all of this is for him. To make him happy. To keep him satisfied. 

Spencer leans up and kisses you, feeling himself get hard against your thigh, and you are equally as hard. You set Spencer's gun down on his desk and wrap your arms around his waist, dipping your hands down to grab at his ass. He gasps and you take that opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth. 

Just as you're about to push him onto the comfortable sofa that's in the room for you to use when Spencer's working and you want to be near him, Spencer's phone rings. 

Spencer groans and pulls away, taking out his phone and answering it. He puts it on speaker but presses a finger to your lips to quiet you. You kiss his finger, but nod. 

"Reid? Everything okay?" Morgan asks on the other side of the phone. 

Spencer nods. "Yeah. My uh… my boyfriend… fell down the stairs at our apartment!" Spencer exclaims and you nod, silently telling him it was a good cover story. "He sprained his ankle and I had to help him back up the stairs and into bed."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Morgan says and Spencer lets out a silent sigh. You kiss him quietly. "You ran out of there so fast. I'll tell the others you'll be back in tomorrow," he says and Spencer nods. 

"Okay. I gotta go, but I'll see you tomorrow," he says, and he hangs up. He throws his phone onto the sofa and pulls you to him again, kissing you loudly, moaning and gasping at every swipe of your tongue, every tug of his hair. 

"I love you, Spencer Reid," you say. 

"I love you too, [Y/N] [L/N]."

–

"How long?" Spencer asks, tracing what seems like random shapes into your skin, but you know they have meaning to him. 

You shrug. "Ever since I was younger. I would purposefully get into fights with other kids so I could hit them. I never killed any animals, and I was never really a bedwetter. I did like to start fires. My parents would always let me light the candles at dinner," you say. "The first person I ever killed was my babysitter. I was nine and she was seventeen. She kept touching me, kissing me, trying to take my clothes off. I got her onto the third floor balcony and pushed her off. I called my parents crying and told them she fell when I was playing in the yard when I wasn't supposed to."

"Wow," Spencer says, his hands stilling for a moment before continuing. 

"The second person I killed was the first time I killed with a knife. It was my next door neighbor. He would bully me at school, shove me into lockers, take my clothes when I was changing so I'd have to run through the school naked after him to get my clothes back, hit me, things like that. He cornered me in my backyard one day, jumping our shared fence. He was going to kill me. I ran inside and grabbed a knife and when I ran back out, I crashed into him, stabbing him. I cut my side with the blade to make it look like self defense, and told the police he attacked me. I ran inside and got a kitchen knife, and he took it from me. I managed to get it back and he ran at me. I told them it was an accident. It was, but it felt so good, I didn't want to stop," you say. 

"So you didn't," Spencer says, and you shake your head. "But, you haven't killed anyone for over six years. 

You nod. "I met you," you say, running your hands through Spencer's hair and bringing his head up to kiss you. "I found everything I needed. But, those urges came back. And I wanted everything to be perfect for you. I wanted you to have everything you could ever want. And for you, that meant sex. I know how much you like it." Spencer nods and blushes, looking away, but you move his face so he's looking at you again, and you kiss him. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. I need it to. And I would never, ever hurt you. But, I kept thinking about it. And it scared me." 

Spencer nods and curls up against you so his head is on your chest. You kiss his hair as he mutters, "I love you."

You smile. "I love you too, baby. Now, let's get some sleep."

–

Spencer wakes with a start, shaking and crying. You feel the bed moving and slowly wake up, only to see Spencer in distress. You sit up as well and hold him to your chest as he cries. 

"What have I done? What will everyone think of me? Why do I want to- I want- why-" 

"Spencer, Spencer," you say, and almost as if he forgot you lived with him, his head snaps to look at you. "Baby, what's going on?"

"I shouldn't like it. I should take you in. I shouldn't want to know what it feels like, but I do. I want to know," he mutters, almost to himself, but he's still looking directly at you. 

"You want to know what it feels like to kill someone?" you ask. Spencer nods. You smile and kiss him. "I can help arrange that." 

Spencer nods. "I know I shouldn't like you… killing people for me, but I can't help it. It makes me happy to know you want me to be happy."

"Oh, baby," you say, holding him even closer to your bare chest. Spencer wraps his arms around you. "I would do anything to make you happy." 

Spencer hums, contentedly. 

–

"Everything okay, Reid?" Hotch asks as the youngest profiler walks into the Round Table Room that morning, his bag still on his hip. 

Spencer smiles and nods. "Everything is fine." 

"Morgan told us you had a family emergency, but wouldn't say anything else," Rossi says and Spencer nods again, throwing a grateful look to Morgan. 

He sighs and takes his messenger bag off, setting it at the ground by his desk before he begins to talk. "My boyfriend fell down the stairs in our apartment yesterday. I had to go home and help him."

JJ just nods and Garcia "Aw’s” as Hotch, Prentiss, and Rossi all narrow their eyes at him. 

"You've never mentioned having a boyfriend," Prentiss says and Spencer sighs. 

"It was my business and neither he nor I wanted to share it. But, we want to now," Spencer says. 

"How long! How long!" Garcia asks, practically bouncing in her seat. 

"Baby girl, they've been together for over six years now," Morgan says. 

Garcia's jaw drops, as does everyone else's in the room. 

"Six years?" JJ asks and Spencer nods. "Why didn't you tell us?" 

Spencer shrugs. "Because we weren't ready. Can we get started on the briefing now?" 

The team nods and JJ turns back to the screen. 

"Spence, we weren't able to get to the briefing yesterday, so we know about as much as you do,"  JJ explains. Spencer nods. 

"I think the unsub might be impotent," Morgan says, looking at the files. "The stabbing could indicate that."

"But, there was no semen found on the body. Usually, men who are impotent get off on the dead body as well as the killing," Spencer explains. A few of his co-workers nod. 

"I want to find out more about where these men were before they were murdered," Hotch says. "Reid and Morgan, go to the bar where Giles was last seen, Rossi and Prentiss, Lake, and JJ and I will go to where Heartwood was last seen. We'll meet back here and discuss what we learned." 

–

Spencer walks into the bar you were in only six months before, where you killed Fred Giles. 

"Hey! What can I get you boys?" the bartender asks from behind the bar. 

Morgan walks over and takes out his badge, saying, "I'm Agent Morgan and this is Doctor Reid. We're here to ask about Fred Giles, the man who was murdered behind your bar six months ago."

The bartender nods and sighs. "Yeah. I knew him. Said he was a regular to all the attractive men who walked in. He never bought anything though," he says. "Always just came in for sex. When I confronted him about it, he said he needed it, that he couldn't live without it, and he was a nice enough guy so I let him. He never deterred people from coming back." 

The bartender shrugs and Spencer steps up, asking, "Did anyone talk to him that night?"

"Uh, yeah. Some bloke. Don't know his name. He's never come back, but we get a lot of that here. Had a beer and they left out the back. Never saw him again."

"Sir, can you describe him for us?" Morgan asks, taking off his sunglasses. 

"No, sorry," the bartender says, picking up some glasses and putting them away underneath the bar. "It was busy and we don't usually have a lot of lights on in here. I know he was handsome. Fred wouldn't've gone with him if he weren't. Sorry, boys." 

Spencer nods and smiles and Morgan walks off, going towards the back door that leads out into the alley. As soon as Spencer steps out of the bar, he can feel himself getting hard. 

Spencer's never gotten hard at the thought of a dead body, except when he first started. He was young and beautiful sitting in the slab in the morgue, naked and displayed for him to assess. He had never seen a body so beautiful, so peaceful, and he had gotten an erection while looking at it. 

Now though, just the thought that you had killed this man to make Spencer feel good has his heart racing and adrenaline coursing through his stomach. He shifts his messenger bag over his groin to hide his growing erection. He flushes and looks down at the ground, trying to will away the thoughts of you murdering someone, and him finding it erotic. 

"Hey," Morgan says, and Spencer looks up at him, eyes wide. "Do you know if Garcia got the footage from the camera here?" Spencer shakes his head and Morgan pulls out his phone, pressing a button before holding it up to his ear. "Hey pretty mama, there's a CCTV camera in the alley behind the bar where Fred Giles was murdered. Can you see if that footage is anywhere?" 

There's a few moments of silence, and Spencer looks around, trying to see if there's anything the CSI missed, but it doesn't look like it. 

"Are you sure? Damn. Okay, thanks mama." Morgan flips the phone shut and sighs. "CCTV's fake, used to deter thieves most likely," he says and Spencer nods. "We should head back." 

–

"Reid. Morgan. Find anything?" Rossi asks as the two step into the bullpen. 

Morgan scoffs. "Nah. Nothing. He's handsome, but we figured that out already. Bartender didn't see anything and the CCTV in the back was fake so we got nothing."

Rossi nods. "Us as well. Maybe we should wait for Hotch. Maybe he found someone."

The rest of the team nods and Spencer takes out his phone, texting you.

To: [Y/N] 😍

From: Spencie 😘

Team hasn't found anything. Keep you updated. 

You message back just as quickly. 

To: Spencie 😘

From: [Y/N] 😍

Okay! I love you. Hurry back home quickly! I want to show you something! 

Spencer grins as he looks at his phone, before Morgan clears his throat. He quickly shuts it off and slides it into his back pocket, before following Morgan into the round table room. 

"Why are you so happy?" Prentiss asks, and Spencer schools his expression, clearing his throat. 

"My, uh, ahem, my boyfriend texted me," Spencer says and Prentiss nods, seeming to accept that answer. Spencer lets out a sigh of relief. 

–

"[Y/N]? Are you home?" Spencer calls out into the apartment, and you walk out of the study in a pair of black skinny jeans and a black button down, heavy black work boots already on your feet. You walk over to your boyfriend and put your arms around him, leaning your forehead against his. 

"Go get dressed. We're going out tonight," you say, but Spencer groans. 

"Do we have to?" he whines and you frown. 

"You wanted to know what it was like, Spence. So, I'm going to show you," you say, and that gets Spencer's attention. 

He looks at you, wide eyed, and asks, "Really?" 

You nod and kiss him. "Really. Now, get dressed. We don't want you to ruin your good clothes," you say and he nods, giving you one, last, chaste, kiss before running into the bedroom. 

He comes out a few minutes later, and you almost take him right there. He's wearing a pair of black skinny jeans you bought him years ago, and a tight black t-shirt. 

You walk over and take him in a searing kiss, putting your hand down his pants and groping him. You realize then that he's not wearing underwear and you have to restrain yourself from fucking him on the floor. 

"You have no idea what you do to me," you mutter against his lips before pulling away. Spencer whines but you just pay his ass and motion for him to grab his stuff. 

Thirty minutes later you find yourself and Spencer in a club. When asked why you were coming here instead of a bar, you answer that no one would suspect him being here. 

He admits that it's actually very smart. 

You sit down in a booth and pull him onto your lap, making sure everyone around you knows who this gorgeous man belongs to. He tilts his head to the side to give you access to his neck, to kiss and lick and nip to your heart's desire. 

"I want to dance," you say to Spencer after a few minutes of indulging in your boyfriend. 

Spencer nods and gets up off your lap before grabbing your hand and letting you lead him out onto the busy dance floor. You can feel Spencer shaking underneath you, and you pull him towards you, putting your hands in his back pockets. You kiss him deeply, letting your bodies sway to the music, your groins rubbing against each other. You can feel eyes on the two of you, but you don't care. 

Spencer moans into your mouth and you pull away, nipping at Spencer's bottom lip. The man moans deliciously and you kiss him again, trying to drink every sound. You pull away again and Spencer is staring at you with a goofy smile on his face. 

"See?" you ask, loudly, over the music. "That wasn't so bad." 

Spencer nods and places his head in your neck, swaying to the music that you should be jumping to, but you don't care. You lock eyes with a young man with curly brown hair and pale white skin, and the man sitting next to him. You nod at them before turning to look down at Spencer, who still has his face buried in your neck. 

"Baby," you say to him, nudging him with your shoulder. He looks up at you so innocently, and you have to lean down and kiss him again, showing all your love in the single kiss, prying open his lips with yours and letting your tongues explore each other for the millionth time. Well, you know it's probably not the millionth, and Spencer could absolutely tell you the accurate number, but you're too distracted by his mouth to ask. 

You pull away again and say, "Let's go sit down. I want to find someone."

Spencer nods and you lead him back to the booth you were at before, sitting down before Spencer settles on your lap. You shift your hand from his hip to underneath his button up, resting it on his stomach. Spencer gasps and you feel his stomach flatten even more. You grind your hips up into his ass, already half hard at the thought of killing a pretty little brunette. He groans as that pretty brunette from before sits across from you with his friend next to him. 

"Hi!" the brunette says, grinning wildly, and you're struck by how much he looks like Spencer. Even more than the first. "I'm Daniel! This is my boyfriend, Gary!" 

The man next to him raises a hand, but doesn't say anything. You raise an eyebrow at that, but don't say anything about it. 

You smile at them. "It's nice to meet you both. My boyfriend and I were looking to meet some couples around here."

"You were magnetic! I couldn't take my eyes off you! I think Gary here was a little jealous…" Daniel says, and Gary glares at him, but doesn't say anything. 

You smirk and nuzzle Spencer's neck, who tilts his head to give you a better angle. "Isn't he just?" 

You lock eyes Daniel, who shudders. "Come join us out back. We've been looking for some fun…" 

Daniel grins, turning to look at Gary, who nods, before the two get up. "We're going to go to the bathroom, but I know that no one will bother us out back…" Daniel says and you nod, watching the two walk away. 

You kiss Spencer's cheek, who hasn't said anything for a few minutes. "What do you think?"

"Daniel looks like me," Spencer whispers and you nod against his throat. "Is he yours?" 

"If I could," you say, and Spencer nods. "He looks so much like you baby. But no one could ever be you." You kiss his cheek before leaning back and grabbing something from your back pocket, before placing it in Spencer's hand, underneath the table. "Gary's big, but he'll squeal like a stuck pig if you stab him. You need strength, but once the blade gets past the epidermis, it'll be easy." 

Spencer whines, grinding down onto your lap, and you lick right under his jaw. "I know."

You smirk. "Reading about it and doing it are two very different things. Don't be afraid to ask for help." 

Spencer nods again and you squeeze his thigh, before pushing him up and making him pocket the knife. You grab him by the hand and lead him out back, where Daniel and Gary are already waiting. You grin and let go of Spencer, walking over to Daniel before pinning him to the wall of the alley. He moans underneath you, and you reach into your back pocket, grabbing your knife. You tilt your head and Daniel latches his lips to your neck, and you look over at Spencer. 

He's also pressed against the wall behind him, and he's being petted by Gary ever so gently. When the man turns to look at his partner, you lock eyes with Spencer and nod miniscule-y, before turning back to Daniel. You wait until Gary's eyes are off you, before grabbing your knife, and flicking it open, before stabbing it right underneath the young man's solar plexus. 

You feel that rush and shiver as you look over, and see Spencer doing the same thing. Gary looks like he's about to cry as he looks over at Daniel, but you grin, your cock starting to harden in your pants. You pull the knife out and drive it in again, and again, and again, and soon, Daniel can't hold himself up anymore, and you let him fall to the ground. 

Looking at Spencer, you see he still hasn't moved, has kept his knife right where he first stabbed it, and you notice Gary starting to get angry. You walk over and lean in so your lips are right next to Spencer's ear, and you whisper, "What do you think?" 

That seems to break Spencer from his spell and he moans beautifully, before pulling the knife out and plunging it in again. You reach down and grab his already hard cock through his pants, groping him through the thick jeans, and Spencer bucks up into your hand, stabbing Gary again. 

After three, the man is dead weight and he falls to the ground. You step around his body and put your knife away, before pressing Spencer into the wall and kissing him, flicking your tongue into his mouth as he ruts up against you. You slip your hand into his pants and start stroking his cock, he groans, but pushes you away. 

"We- oh yes! We can't leave any evidence," he says and you sigh, taking your hand from his pants. 

You kiss him before saying, "You're right. You're so smart. I love you so much."

"I love you too," Spencer says and you grin, holding out your hand. 

He puts his knife away and takes yours before you lead him out of the alley, leaving two dead bodies behind. 

–

"He's accelerating," Morgan says the next morning at the debrief. 

There was no talk from Morgan this morning about Spencer getting some. As much as you wanted to mark his neck, Spencer talked you down, stating that if he caught onto what you were doing, the others would notice by the hickeys alone. You conceded and just marked him below the collar. 

As Spencer thinks about this he presses his fingers into one of the bruises and has to bite his lip to keep from crying out in ecstasy. 

"Yeah, he is," Rossi says. "Could be he's devolving."

Hotch shakes his head. "If that were the case, the bodies would probably be more roughed up. Gary Jenkins and Daniel Espinoza knew each other. They were dating. If one saw the other go down, there would be a lot of defensive wounds."

"What are you sayin', Hotch?" Morgan asks. 

Before Hotch can reply, Spencer interrupts and says, "He's saying he thinks the unsub has a partner." 

Hotch nods and Rossi and Prentiss look at each other. "I can see that being a possibility, but we can't rule out that he's just that good," Prentiss says and everyone nods. 

"Here's a thought," Spencer says, and everyone looks over at him. "The unsub could be a woman. Usually stabbing creates a sexual response in men who can't normally get an erection, being able to penetrate a body without using the penis, but there's been no semen found at any of the crime scenes. The first one it rained after, but the others it didn't, and there should have been some evidence." 

Morgan and Rossi nod but Hotch frowns. "Could be, but we shouldn't scrap what we have now for that," Hotch says and Spencer sighs. 

"I think I have something!" Garcia exclaims, running into the conference room. 

–

"I want to kill my father," Spencer says that night as you are making dinner for him. 

You freeze in your movements before continuing, asking hesitantly, "Are you sure? If you do, you probably won't be able to go back to the BAU. We may have to run."

You hear Spencer get up and walk over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, leaning his chin on your shoulder. 

"Garcia found something, a surveillance camera at the end of the alley, the end we didn't walk through. But, they know there's two unsubs, and that one's Caucasian. They couldn't get a good read on you, but it's only a matter of time before you're found- before we're found out," Spencer explains and you nod, turning to lock your arms around his waist and kiss him deeply. 

"Okay, baby," you say, kissing him again. "Whatever you want, I'll provide. Anything."

Spencer grins and kisses you again.You feel him shiver as you move a hand from his hip to his lower back and you pull him in closer. "We'll get on the first flight out of here if that's what you want. Just you and me." 

Spencer nods. "We should do some planning, but I want that. I want to see the country, and not because some murder happened there." 

You grin. "I've always wanted to do a road trip of the country!" you exclaim and Spencer grins back, kissing you. 

"Me too." 

–

A week later sees you and Spencer on a cross country flight to Las Vegas, your apartment, car, and stuff all sold and liquidated into cash. You took as much money as you possibly could from your accounts and Spencer did the same. You both took your vacation time off from work. 

The rest of the BAU had been angry at Spencer, but understood his need to have his boyfriend meet his mother. There also haven't been any more murders in DC, which means their current back alley ripper case was currently cold. Hotch had approved it before he told the rest of the team. Spencer just didn't tell Hotch that you had already met his mother five years ago. 

The flight is long and cramped, but you and Spencer have each other, and that makes it worth it. You get to Vegas and as soon as you check into your motel, you fuck Spencer every way you can, wanting to feel every part of him, and needing to stretch after the long flight. Spencer wasn't complaining. 

But today was the day. 

Spencer's leg wouldn't stop bouncing in the taxi as you both made your way to his father's law firm. You don't know exactly what he did to Spencer as a child, but you know it was bad enough that he's still with you, willing to kill his own father to stay with you forever. You place a hand on his thigh and he looks over at you, nervousness written across his face like the headline of a newspaper. 

You lean in and kiss his cheek. "It will be okay. You can do this. And if you can't, I'll do it for you." 

He nods and you grin, kissing his cheek again before leaning back over into your seat, but you don't remove your hand from his leg. 

You arrive in front of the building and thank the cabbie, paying the fare and giving a tip before exiting the vehicle. You grab Spencer's hand and drag him into the brown brick building before he can turn around. You squeeze his hand and walk in, looking at the receptionist with a smile. 

He smiles at you, a large, fake smile that you know he practiced. "Hi! What can I do for you today?" 

You pull Spencer forward so he's standing next to you, and you ask sweetly, "Can you please tell Mr. William Reid that Doctor Spencer Reid, his son, is here to see him?" 

The man's eyes widen and he nods, picking up his phone and telling the man exactly that. You smile as he tells you what floor and room to go to, and Spencer is the one to drag you this time, going to the elevators. As soon as the door closes, you push him against the wall and kiss him. 

"We're so close, baby," you say, kissing him. 

He nods against your mouth before pulling back. "I love you." 

You grin. "I love you."

You give him a chaste kiss before pulling away right as the doors open, showing a long stretch of doors along a brown hallway. You and Spencer walk side by side to his father's door, and you knock. You grab Spencer's hand once more and the man squeezes your fingers, making you smile. 

The door opens, and William Reid is standing in front of you, eyes wide and mouth open. "So, you're the one who fucked up my baby for life," you say, and William blinks at you. It's just enough time for Spencer to draw his knife, and plunge it into his father's stomach, pushing him back into his office. The man lets out a strangled groan, and you walk into the office after Spencer, closing the door behind you. You look around and when you don't see a camera, you walk over to the desk, turning the laptop so it's pointing at Spencer and his father, and you hit record. 

Spencer brings both his hands up and slams them back down, plunging the knife into his father over and over, screaming out, "That's for telling me it's normal! That's for telling me to deal with it! That's for locking me in that dark room with nothing!" 

You flinch at that. Spencer can't be alone in the dark. You used to have a night light in every room so he wouldn't be scared. That makes your own anger flare up, and you walk over to the two men. Spencer is kneeling beside his father's chest, plunging the knife into him over and over again, drawing more and more blood. When he finally stops, panting heavily and leaning back on his feet, you grab his shirt and pull him to you, kissing him soundly, not caring about your pants being soaked through by the blood pooling around Spencer's father. 

You pull back before getting up, dragging Spencer with you, and you push everything but the laptop off the desk. You push Spencer face first onto it, freeing his cock from his pants and stroking him. It doesn't take long for Spencer to go from half hard to fully hard, and you pull down his pants, fishing a bottle of lube out of your coat. You make eye contact with the computer, and you coat your fingers in lube. You lean in and kiss Spencer's neck, still not breaking contact, as you insert one finger inside of Spencer, quickly adding another. Spencer moans loudly as you bite down on his pulse point, adding a third finger. You scissor him open, before opening your pants and taking out your cock, and slicking it up as well. You pull him to the edge of the desk, and slam into him in one go. 

He throws his head back and screams loudly, before leaning in and kissing you soundly. You move your eyes from the computer and close them, moaning at the feeling of Spencer's tight heat enveloped around your hard cock, and your hips stutter as you get closer to your release.

"Touch me! [Y/N] I need you to touch me," Spencer exclaims and you do as asked, using your already lubed hand to wrap it around Spencer's prick and start stroking him. He gasps and moans loudly into your mouth. 

"Spencer, baby I love you. So much," you say, and Spencer cries out, his body tightening, and his cum splashes on your hand and his shirt. 

When you feel Spencer clench around you, you cry out as well, making eye contact once again with the computer camera before you cum, filling Spencer with your seed. 

You pant and kiss him before slowly pulling out, your dick over sensitive and aching. You lean over Spencer, give the computer a wink, and end the recording, saving it to the desktop. 

"Baby," you pant, putting yourself back in your pants. "I want to see the Grand Canyon."

Spencer grins. "Have you never been?" he asks and you shake your head. His grin gets wider and he stands up, situating himself as well, before grabbing your hand. "Come on! We can take William's car!" You look in his desk drawer and grin, holding up his keys when you find them. 

That night, on a blanket next to the grand canyon, you and Spencer make love. 

–

Morgan and Prentiss walk into the crime scene, cringing at the amount of blood that has soaked into the white carpet. They walk over to the desk and look at the open laptop, clicking on the file in the middle of the screen. 

"😘.mov"

Prentiss throws up into the bin by the desk, and honestly, Derek wants to throw up too. 

[hansolmates]

me time (m)

summary; the first time virgin!mc meets her mans (but she doesn’t know it yet) pairing; jungkook x virgin!mc genre/warnings; fluff, college!au, boarding house!au, based on the virgin!oc discourse, female masturbation (thanks to the pretty bridgertons), a lil sad and longing at the end w/c; 1.3k a/n; y’all really brought manhater!mc and virgin!mc to life! this couldn’t be done without all of your fabulous input and support. obviously the virginverse is freeform at this point—think of this more as a prequel for these two. set in freshman year of college, when they’re just acquaintances. (do you guys think of cher from clueless when u think virgin!mc? very outgoing n’cute but also very innocent?) anyway, happy valentine’s day i hope you and your boo (whether digital or in-person) get your me/we time💖

Your wooden lap desk is toppled to the side. Good thing the space between the mattress and floor is small, your pink monstera-shaped rug softening the blow when your water bottle, pencils and laptop fall to the floor. In the back of your head you know everything is fine because the last episode of Bridgerton is still playing, an orchestral version of Ariana Grande’s Thank U, Next continuing on as if nothing’s astray. 

Yet you’re nothing but astray, forgotten about the episode and writhing against your too-small twin as you let yourself cum for the umpeeth time. 

You’ve lost track at this point (how couldn't you? Bridgerton is hot) but from the way your hair mats to your face like a second skin and your pussy feels spent and battered, it’s been awhile. This should be your new Valentine’s Day tradition, fucking yourself until you pass out on your vibrator. 

“Ah, ah fu—uck, yyyes!” 

The sheets are sopping. The grey cotton fabric does nothing to hide your juices that seep from your bare cunt to the mattress. Flinging your silicone toy to the side, you pull your hair up and out of your face. 

Water, you need water. Maybe a cup of green tea with a dollop of honey. Sugar always helps the immediate low after a good couple of rounds. 

However, you’ll never get used to the feeling of cleaning up yourself. The feeling that you’ve done something completely lewd all on your own, no one to assure you the things you’re doing are weird. It’s okay though. You love to be alone, it takes a lot for you to feel lonely. 

You slip on a pair of dolphin-cut shorts, too tiny that they are drowned beneath your emerald green slip dress. Quickly opening the door to your room, you’re met with absolute silence. White walls containing empty rooms and a living room without a soul. Just like you’re expecting in a college boardhouse on Valentine’s Day. 

What you’re not expecting however, is Jeon Jungkook staring at you the second you crack your door open. 

“If you’re screaming that loud, your partner must be doing a good job.” 

Jungkook lives on the other side of the boarding house, therefore you’ve never really interacted with him. Excluding the landlord there’s only five other tenants, a group large enough that you’ve never had to have one-on-one with him. 

You really didn’t think anyone would be in the house on Valentine’s, especially Jungkook. He’s an absolute cutie pie, even though you don’t know anything about him. The only thing you really know is that his sparkly brown eyes are to die for, they remind you of coffee milk tea, a craving you only indulge in at the end of finals season. 

To your surprise, Jungkook looks like he hasn’t gone out all weekend. Him, single? As if! Yet you can’t justify any reasoning behind him being home if did have a girlfriend or boyfriend. His dark hair is fluffy and freshly showered, and you can’t ignore the smell of linens from his soft sweats and long navy hoodie. 

Normally, you’d be quiet during Me Time. You’ve perfected the art, stuffing your mouth with your pillow or playing action movies to muffle out the sound. You thought you were in the clear. The thought of Jungkook overhearing you turns you on a little, makes the dampness between your panties even more evident, but you keep that self-indulgent secret to yourself. 

“Oh, well,” you curl your lips in a smirk, closing the door behind you so he doesn’t see that your room is actually very much devoid of life, “she’s very powerful.” 

She, meaning your favorite vibrator in your entire world. It has ten settings and a heating mechanism. More importantly, it’s rechargeable. You don’t know how you’d survive freshman year otherwise. 

“Okay, TMI,” despite the fact Jungkook’s blushing he’s chuckling, holding a hand out for you in the narrow hallway, “after you.” 

You quickly slip past him, walking into the shared kitchenette. Bare feet slapping against the hardwood, your eyes immediately gravitate toward the upper cabinet. Jungkook is following you, presumably to get his own late night snack. When you lift your arms to reach your mug, you feel a little bit of cool air brush against the uppers of your thighs. It’s a nightgown, a pretty satin slip  that falls over your curves and leaves much to the imagination. A couple more centimeters to get your mug and you’ll be definitely flashing Jungkook. 

“Um,” you practically hear the twisted face he’s making. 

“Sorry—I’m sorry!” you blurt, waving your fingers to catch the handle of your mug, “I’m really not trying to flash you—please don’t fill a harassment report! I just can’t reach my mug.” 

“No, that’s my mug.” 

“What, no! I’ve been drinking from this mug all year!” 

“You’ve been drinking from my mug?” Jungkook is affronted, walking past you to easily grab the mug you’ve been struggling to reach for the past minute. He flexes the bottom part of the mug in your face, where his initials are painted in black. “This is my mug, my parents put my handprint on it when I was a year old.”  

It’s then you notice on the lower shelf, there’s an identical mug. This mug has been buried all the way in the back, dust collecting on the rim. It also has a baby handprint on it, although upon closer inspection it’s smaller and in a more faded shade of black. That’s your mug. 

“Oh, Jungkook,” you feel your heart fall all the way to your ass, feeling guilty, “I’m so sorry. I’ve washed it and everything, if it makes you feel any better.” 

He frowns, holding the white porcelain between his hands. A litany of ideas run through your brain. Is he disgusted by using the same mug as you? Have you potentially ruined a prized family treasure? 

Thrusting the mug into your chest he says, “Make me a hot chocolate and we’re even.” 

You smile a little, eager to please. You quickly get to work, simmering the pan with warm milk and melting chopped chocolate. You rinse your mug with some hot water, letting it sit next to his awaiting mug. For a bit of flair you add a capful of vanilla extract, all while Jungkook watches you with mild awe. The smell of sweet late night confections fill the kitchen, a fitting theme for a Valentine’s night. 

“You’re not burning the milk,” Jungkook murmurs more to himself than you, watching as you pour the hot chocolate in cups without spilling a drop. 

Jungkook is known to burn things in the house. The only thing he doesn’t burn is ramen, and that’s purely due to survival skills. 

“What can I say, I’m an expert,” you wink, handing him his mug and you holding yours. 

With matching mugs, the two of you take your first sips of the melty beverage. You lean against the stove facing him, while he faces you against the marble island. Jungkook smiles and a bit of cocoa touches his petal pink lips. He says it’s perfect and you smile into your cup, absolutely swelling with pride. 

Jungkook’s probably working on his photos. He always says his editing bug is itchy at night. While in passing you’ve said you’d love to see his work, however that gesture of kindness never really amounted to anything. Maybe tonight’s the night. You like art, you’d love to be a little more educated with it. Just as you’re about to ask and strike up some conversation, Jungkook beats you to it. 

“Well, hope you and your partner have a good Valentine’s,” Jungkook holds his cup in salute, walking back into his room, “just keep it down.” 

Oh well. You sigh to yourself, letting Jungkook walk away without a fight or a retort. After all, it was you who implied you were sneaking in a bed partner tonight. Sinking your eyes into the brown liquid, you fall into a lull. The creamy liquid swirls in your grasp, making your muddied reflection ripple away. 

You love to be alone, but it takes someone like Jeon Jungkook to remind you that life gets a little lonely. 

[abbatoirablaze]

Fated, Chapter 6

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: fluff, angst, mentions of spining, werelion dynamics, insecurities, smut, knotting, a/b/o dynamics

“You know, I don’t live too far away…” Curtis tried to offer as he watched the beautiful woman in front of him. Autumn gave him a curious look, quirking her brow as if to doubt him, and he bit his lip, giving another small smile, “okay, I live out in the mountain…with my four brothers.”

“That sounds like how a slasher film starts,” Autumn laughed, trying to make a joke while sipping on the coffee that Curtis had bought her. While she knew that the brothers weren’t slashers, she just wanted to flirt and spend more time with Curtis. She’d never seen him smile so much as she had now, in town, “cute guy invites the new girl in town up into the mountains with four backwoods brothers waiting on standby the slaughter her…I can only imagine the headlines when they find the body.”

Curtis smiled, his head ducking slightly. She watched as he licked his lips, and his thumb ran over the bottom one, “did you just call me cute, new girl?”

Autumn blushed, her cheeks tinging pink as she looked away from him. His deep, rich laughter made her blush deepen as his hand reached across the table. She noticed it and her eyes flickered back to his as she inched her hand away from her coffee cup and towards his, “and what if I did? Would that affect your choice on selecting me as a victim, cute mountain man?”

“I’d probably ask you on a real date,” he admitted slowly, his calloused fingertips gliding over her manicured nails, “one where I’m not returning your purse to you because you dropped it on the street… and definitely the one that doesn’t end up with you in the headlines.”

“Oh darn, here I was hoping to become famous.”

He chuckled, “would a date be something that you were open to? If I asked you on one?”

“If you did…I’d probably like that,” she admitted back. Her index finger lifted just enough that it raised above his finger and the two of them messed around back and forth, the smallest amount of contact making the two of them feel as though electricity was being passed back and forth.

By the time Curtis’ cell phone rang, both of them had long forgotten about their coffees, which were almost cold enough to be considered an iced drink and had been silently flirting back and forth. His smile left him when she unlaced their fingers at his ringtone, as though it was an electrical shock whose current was too high. One that was unpleasant.

“Shit,” he cursed, his face contorting into a displeasured look, “the backwoods brothers…my guess is I should have been back with the victim a while ago…”

“Yeah?” Autumn giggled, biting her bottom lip, “what got you so caught up? Isn’t she cooperating?”

“Think I broke the cardinal rule of being a mountainous murderer…got a crush on the victim,” he chuckled, causing the blush on her cheeks to get darker, “she’s driving me crazy.”

“You should get that.” she urged. Curtis nodded and stood up to grab his phone out of his pocket. He’d hardly noticed when he answered it that she’d already snuck out the door and disappeared down the alley. She looked back down the side street wistfully, upset that she wouldn’t be able to continue with her little interactions with him. But she’d already made too much contact. She frowned, “hopefully I get to see you again soon.”

“You really want to know?”

Rain bit her lip and looked to the younger of the brothers, “yeah…I-I want to know…is it different for both of you, or is it…the same?”

Both Steve and Johnny blushed. While they both knew the differences between their appendages, neither one had cared to admit how they had come to know it. But it was Steve that spoke, “there…are, well…there’s some differences…but we both spine.”

“Oh.”

Rain had blushed as Steve reached across the table, “we wouldn’t hurt you though. I want you to know that…we-“

“I-I kind of liked it that Jake was rough with me.”

Both Steve and Johnny froze. They had not expected her to say that. Johnny’s brows raised as he looked at the innocent looking nymph, “excuse me?”

“I…uh…well, the first night, Jake was very soft…and it was sweet, because that was my first time with someone that wasn’t a nymph…” she said quickly, “but…nymphs aren’t very aggressive lovers…so on the morning we went to get Ember, I-I asked Jake to be less tender…I think I like that more. A-are lions and dragons more aggressive in bed?”

Johnny smiled and licked his lips. Instinctively his dragon was already breathing hard, waiting to pounce on the small nymph, “sweetheart, I can be whatever you want me to be.”

Meanwhile, Steve’s breath hitched in his throat. Big cats could be aggressive in bed. But they were also more reserved in public with their emotions, unless someone else was coming in on their claim. Then they were downright deadly. But how was he to explain that to her? Steve never had trouble getting a woman into bed, but he did usually have an issue keeping them there once they found out how aggressive he could be.

“M-maybe you should start out with Johnny,” Steve muttered, excusing himself from the table, “I-I’m going to go upstairs.”

Before she could say anything, Steve had disappeared up the stairs, leaving her with a very content Johnny. He was checking her out as she looked up the stairs to where Steve had disappeared, “d-did I do something wrong, master?”

Johnny’s dragon growled happily. He loved how she looked, the words spilling from her lips as she called him master. It made his cock twitch in his jeans. He wanted to bend her over the table and spine her right there. But then he saw her eyes, how they seemed to be filling with tears that were threatening to spill over.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he reassured her, instantly trying to sooth her, rubbing small circles on her back. He leaned over and kissed her temple. She turned to him, “Steve…he has issues in the making love department. A lot of women don’t deal with big cats because they can get really…really aggressive.”

“You mean like…he would hurt me?”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. He took one of her hands in his own and began playing with her fingers, “at least, not intentionally. Steve is a good man…a great big brother. He taught me everything I know…except, well things are really different when it comes to sex…when each of us have sex with a partner. Dragons put a lot of thought into the act. It’s about worshipping our mates and making them feel good…sex for the big cats…lions, panthers, tigers…it’s more about ownership and mating. I think he’d be more worried about cutting you accidentally with his claws…or if he was to spine you. Big cats are great at aftercare though…if they can get a mate to stay that long.”

“D-does anyone ever stay with Steve that long?”

“No…” he sighed, looking away from her and up to the stairs where Steve had disappeared, “they don’t.”

“Oh…”

“Come on…let’s go outside,” Johnny offered, trying to change the subject, “you’re a water nymph, right? I’d love to see what you can do in the water.”

“Yeah…okay Johnny.”

Jake hadn’t shifted. He didn’t want to scare Ember. But as he chased the scent that was fresh through the tunnel and into the forest, he knew he was quickly losing it. He felt like he was going insane, as all he could smell was the spicy cinnamon, the warm vanilla, and the smokiness of a campfire. His cock twitched angrily in his jeans as he ran towards the scent. He was going feral and he knew that he had to find her soon.

But after just a few minutes, he began to lose the trail. And a panic began to rise in his chest. The panic brought along the shame that he wasn’t a worthy alpha, and his hunt began to slow.

What kind of alpha would bet his mateship on something so stupid?

What if he didn’t capture her?

What if she really had gotten away already and he went back to the house without her?

The thought made him sick. Made him worry that maybe his brothers were right all those times that they said he shouldn’t have been born an alpha. And he thought to what his life would be like if he couldn’t find her.

He couldn’t go back to his brothers. Couldn’t go back to sleeping with Rain. Sure…she would probably take him back…but even he could see that he was just a job in her eyes. He didn’t mean anything to her. He saw how she looked at Steve. How she went after Johnny the second she saw that he was hurt.

As he reached the dip of the mountain, and looked into the valley below, he began to feel more and more hopeless.

What kind of jackass would do this? They’d just captured her. And suddenly, she’s gone. And it was all Jake’s fault.

“Maybe I’m not meant to be anyone’s alpha.”

‘Maybe I’m not meant to be anyone’s alpha.’

That one sentence tugged on Ember’s heart strings. Hearing how sad he was when he said the sentence aloud made a whimper tug at the back of her throat.

She knew that she felt an attraction to him. There was definitely chemistry between her and him…but love was a weakness…a disease. She’d loved her sisters and had almost died from defending them from Ash when they were born.

Ember was terrified of what baggage would come open and what may come after her if she agreed to be the wolf’s mate.

But she looked above herself. Jake had moved from the top of the mountain’s ridge, and had turned back to the way he’d come, half-heartedly searching for her. She sighed to herself, knowing that there was no going back to the volcano.

There was no fake happy ending there. She looked to the still active eruption, where it’s top had blown, and the black smoke had turned an off-white even after almost a full day later. And she knew that suddenly, that wasn’t home anymore.

The gorgeous, dorky alpha felt safe. He felt right…looking at him, he felt like home.

So, she saw him dip east, towards the town, and she managed to sneak past him. And when they were almost to the edge, she purposefully turned, and stepped on a twig, breaking it underneath her foot.

“Mate.”

Feigning surprise, she looked back to see a renewed Jake. His eyes were wild, and he looked hopeful as his eyes captured hers. The tiniest corner of her lip turned upwards as she turned and ran. Her lips turned fully into a smile when she heard his heavy footfalls behind her, the leaves crunching beneath his shoes.

She felt alive running back towards the house. Felt so excited, knowing that he was willing to chase her. And then she felt two firm arms, wrap around her waist, and the two of them went tumbling to the ground.

And while Ember was graceful, everything seemed to go in slow motion. Jake held her, capturing her in his arms. She never hit the forest floor. No. Jake had maneuvered them so that he took the brunt of the fall, her legs splayed over his torso as her barely covered core rubbed against his jean clad cock.

“Little mate,” he rumbled huskily. His hands were eager as they explored her body, shredding the scraps of fabric that had covered her, “I caught you.”

Her response was to pull him up to her face by his tee shirt, their lips slamming together in a fevered passion. He held her in his arms, not daring to even think about letting go. They only momentarily stopped kissing as she pulled his shirt off of him, throwing it to the ground beside them both.

“Take me, alpha,” she whimpered against his lips as she fought to tear his jeans off him. Jake rumbled from beneath her, flipping them both over so his body hovered over hers. He ground his hardened member over her, and she hissed at the harsh contact of the denim on her slicked core as he continued to sloppily kiss her, “take me alpha…I’m yours. I’m all yours.”

“I’m gonna give you my knot, little mate,” he promised as she finally managed to unbutton his jeans and push them down to his thick thighs. He groaned as he lined himself up at her entrance, coating himself in her slick, “fuck, I’m going to fill you up, little mate. Gonna show you who your alpha is.”

“Knot me, alpha,” she begged, letting go of every insecurity and inhibition that she had as Jake thrust into her. She gripped his shoulders tightly, arching into him, “Jake. Fuck. Fuck, alpha.”

“Say it,” he begged, needing to hear the words from her lips, “say it!”

“Make me yours, mate,” she begged throughout her moan, “I belong to you. I belong to you!”

Chapter 7