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finxwrites · 8 months ago
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Trees are a lot like people. Each one’s got a life’s tale that matches no other, full of private joys and more private sorrows, borne on the currents of time and change and just trying to keep afloat. Also like people, most of them are common as pixie dust, and it’s a rare specimen indeed that truly stands out from the crowd.
Goldilocks’ sulking tree could claim that distinction. It was a grand old oak as broad as it was tall, with craggy, moss-covered branches that sprawled possessively over the patch of forest it presided over. Gilda led me right up to the base of it, and I felt the damndest urge to tip my hat as we approached.
After a bit of an internal struggle, I gave in. I’ve got my pride, but I’ve got my sense, too, and it pays to be polite when you can. Even to something with no eyes to see it. 
Oak trees are self-sufficient creatures, and they like their space. The forest floor is always dark under the awning of their branches, brown with the tree’s own fallen leaves, with only a few guests sharing its shade and nothing at all growing within arm’s reach of the trunk itself. The paw print Gilda showed me was right up in that no-man’s-land, a deep divot in the soft loam. 
It was definitely large. It was definitely some kind of footprint. It was not so definitely a paw print, but one look at Gilda was enough to tell me it’d be a waste of time pointing that out. 
“You see?” she said, arms folded, an imperious glint in her eye. “It has to be the Bears.”
I hummed, and scribbled down some nonsense in my notebook just to satisfy her. Then I took a turn around the tree, eyes on the ground. “You said your sister comes here a lot?”
Gilda huffed. “Used to be more. Every few days, whenever she got in one of her moods. These days she’s more likely to go crying to that useless lout Jack.”
There were no other obvious disturbances in the leaf litter. I took another turn, this time casting my gaze a little higher. “What makes you so sure she ran off here after your fight, then, and not into his loving arms?”
“I told you, I spoke to Jack. He hadn’t seen her.”
I stopped to peer at a particularly interesting burl on the tree trunk. “And you’re sure he wouldn’t lie to you?”
Gilda was silent a moment. When she spoke, the words came out bitter as a witch’s apples. “He does…care about her. She’s been missing for six days. If he knew anything, he’d have told me by now.”
“Unless Goldina swore him to silence.”
Gilda scoffed. “He doesn’t have the spine for oaths.” She came around to where I was still inspecting the tree burl. “Look, Detective—”
“Is your sister in good with the trees?” I interrupted.
I glanced over in time to see suspicion flash across her face, there and gone as quick as a gingerbread man. She replaced it with polite incomprehension, but I just tipped my head and raised my eyebrows, waiting. 
She kept me waiting a while. Gilda was not the kind of dame to lose a staring contest. But then, neither was I. 
It left us at a bit of an impasse. She finally said, dry as a djinni lamp, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
I couldn’t have held back the smirk at that if I’d tried. I do love a dame with the moxie to tell a blatant lie without a scrap of guilt. 
She wasn’t going to budge any further than that, either. And I had a case to crack. “Well,” I said, “I’d appreciate it if you applied some of that same selective ignorance to what you’re about to see.”
She frowned, but before she could ask, I leaned in close to the tree burl and whispered a request.
It doesn’t take a lot to befriend a tree. Most of what it takes is patience. The rest of it—the real trick of it—is in learning how to understand that tree, and make yourself understood in turn. Different people have got different ways. Me, I helped a grove of dryads hunt down an arsonist some years back, and then they went and stiffed me on my pay. I learned an important lesson, and now I always get half my fee upfront, no matter how harsh the sob story. But I learned something else, too. Because instead of gold, the dryads gave me the Blessing of the Leaves.
It’s been far more of a boon to me than the gold would have been, I have to admit. That’s why I only demand half up front—there’s a lot to be said for getting paid in favors, in a place like the Enchanted Wood, so long as I get enough hard cash to keep the lights on.
The Blessing of the Leaves is what let me befriend the trees near my office. Trees love to gossip, it turns out, and if there’s one thing a private detective has in spades, it’s gossip. They tell me all the best rumors, and in exchange, I go track down the truth of them when I can.
Being in good with the trees isn’t any sort of magic power. Not for me, at least. All it means is the trees like me well enough, so they’re apt to do me favors when I ask, long as I do the same for them.
And as luck would have it, this old oak had heard of me, and was in an accommodating sort of mood. So at my whispered query, the gnarled burl cracked along a dozen fault lines, and then it shivered and unfurled like an opening flower.
The space it revealed was almost as wide across as the tree trunk itself. The walls were perfectly smooth and followed the shape of the tree, vanishing off into shadowed recesses where branches forked off the trunk. Diffuse sunlight glowed from a dozen openings high above, no doubt hidden from outside view by careful ridges of bark. It wasn’t a particularly large room, but it was cozy, and someone had installed a battered old armchair with a generous stack of cushions, a reading lamp, a tiny table, and a cramped little bookshelf. There was just barely room for it all. 
Hollow-heart trees are rare things. This was only my second time meeting one. No one knows how they’re formed, or if they do, they’re not telling. The space at the center of one is hidden from all manner of scrying, and there’s no way to get in or out except by the tree’s own leave. 
I watched Gilda out of the corner of my eye as the oak tree opened up. Her eyes went wide, her mouth fell slightly open, her whole face went slack—she was as sincerely gobsmacked as Cinderella's family watching her try on that shoe. 
Something else pinched her face. Hurt, I thought, and maybe anger. “Little sister’s got some secrets, huh?”
She shot me a dirty look for that. “So it would seem.”
I canted a grin at her. “Let’s go find out what they were.”
strange & grimm, which btw sounds like an urban fantasy affectionately parodic hardboiled detective agency. probably queer.
It was a hot, muggy night in the Enchanted Forest. Everyone with a lick of sense was down in the fairy glens, hoping the Winter Court would put in an appearance and bring a breeze on with them. Lucky me, I’m the sucker who fingered the Snow Queen for the missing persons case last winter, so I’m persona non grata in the fairy glens these days.
Just as well. I couldn’t afford to leave the office, not when it’d been so long since my last case. Though on a night like this, I might as well not bother. It was too hot for crime. Even the leaves on the enchanted trees were drooping in the heat. 
I was just about to call it a night when a dame walked in my door. Tall, blonde, legs for days, with an air of tragedy that could put an unloved stepchild to shame. I looked her over suspiciously for any cheery woodland creatures hidden in her golden ringlets. If she was a princess, I’d turf her right back out of the office, case unheard. Princesses paid well, but they were more trouble than they were worth.
No mice poked their adorable little noses out of her pockets as the dame sank into a chair and fixed me with a hard look. “I hear you’re the best in the business,” she said without preamble. “And I need the best.”
I leaned back in my seat. “Baby, I’m the only one in the business. It’s not a good genre for private dicks.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, far too child-friendly for any sort of dicks.” Before I could recover from that little gem, she went on, “It’s a child I’m here about. My sister. She’s…she’s gone missing.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Please, Detective, you’re my last hope. The royal courts won’t hear me out, they think she’s gone on the lam!”
I nodded grimly. “One of those Bo Peep situations, huh?” I get a depressing number of those. All it takes is one wolf in sheep’s clothing—you’d think the kids would learn.
The dame glared. There was enough cold iron in her gaze to put a fairy off her ambrosia. “On the lam, Detective. On the run. My sister has…something of a record.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Your sister the child? She some kind of crime prodigy?”
The dame fidgeted, looking away. “She’s…” She sighed explosively. “My sister is Goldilocks.”
I whistled, low and long. Crime prodigy indeed—Goldilocks was wanted in five kingdoms for the most impressive string of burglaries the Enchanted Forest had ever seen. No one could ever prove she’d done it, but the circumstantial evidence had piled up higher than mattresses on a pea. No wonder no royal court would take this case.
The dame’s shoulders hunched defensively, but she bulled on without trying to defend her wayward sister. “She’s gone missing, and I know it’s not another one of her sprees. Something is wrong this time.” She turned back to meet my eyes, her lovely features harsh with poorly-suppressed fear. “It’s her first crime come back to haunt her, I just know it is. They’ve always wanted revenge—especially the baby of the family, and he’s all grown up now. What they’d do if they got hold of her—“ She cut herself off with a watery gasp; her eyes were wet with tears. “Oh, it doesn’t bear thinking about!”
I handed her a handkerchief and gave her a minute to compose herself. It gave me a minute, too, to decide if I was really going to be this stupid. You don’t tangle with the big predators, not if you know what’s good for you, and especially not a whole family of them. Families are a dangerous thing in any genre.
But I was her last hope, and I’m a sucker for lost causes. And if I didn’t get paid soon, this business would become a lost cause itself. I said a silent farewell to my good sense as it packed its bags and left for kinder climes. “Alright,” I told the dame, “Give me the facts. We’ll see what kind of a story they tell.”
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13tinysocks · 2 years ago
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A nonexhaustive list of creepypasta x reader ideas ive had over the years and will never write. Please feel free to steal them and write them.
Red Eye
Coffee shop + slender mansion au. Yn is a lone night shift barista. The creepypasta(s) of your choice comes in every night for a red eye right before closing. Gotta fuel up before chasing down idiots who wandered in the woods. 
 Anyone whos worked customer service has felt a little homicidal before. After weeks of dealing with a shitty customer who management has done nothing about, yn takes matters into their own hands. By smashing their head in with a stovetop expresso maker. The creepypasta sees this though yn is unaware. Expecting them to be like any other human, the pasta thinks the next time the shop’s open yn wont be there. They’ll probably turn themselves in. Whatever.
But there’s no break in business for investigation and yns working there the next night. Upon realizing yn cleaned up the scene and is going on like nothing happened, the pasta’s interest is thoroughly peaked. Especially when another shithead customer gets brained a few weeks later. Realizing there’s a new serial killer in town, the pasta is more than interested but infatuated. 
Dead by Daylight
Slender mansion au + Splendorman
Slenderman had proxies that hunted and killed but what about Splendorman? Had always been the opposite of his stuffy older brother. When visiting after his domain collapses, he brings along his proxies. To which slender’s housemates/proxies were unaware existed. 
Splendor’s proxies are different. They don’t kill to feed him. They survive to feed him. Splendor puts them in near constant mortal peril for his own entertainment and sustenance. Be it randomly spawning them in the wilderness, sending random attackers after them, or straight up slicing off limbs. Most of his proxies don’t last a week. But yn has for years. Grizzled and exhausted, yn is a ruthless survivalist. They to keep the others alive but those stupid assholes never listen. There’s maybe one or two other proxies but they’re just this weeks cannon fodder. 
Splendor convinces Slender to let their proxies play. AKA “Hey! Your proxies should hunt mine down and try to kill them! Who ever has the best proxies wins this (slenders domain). Wouldn’t that be funny!” Except the game is contained to be only inside the vast slender mansion. 
Fun dynamics ensue. Cat and mouse. Splendor has a time out twice a day for a few minutes. Which really makes things awkward when a pasta is about to kill yn and they have to let them go because breaking the rules on their end means death. Ensue awkwardly eating lunch in the same room after trying to kill eachother. Okay, time outs over. Yns already gone. 
A rivalry esc romance blossoms from there. They def hatefuck. 
Meat Is Me
EJ x reader
Life hadn’t gone the way you wanted. Now you were working as a mortuary assistant. Work was gruesome but not that bad. Until money gets tight at work and you’re alone, finishing cleaning up after the boss went home. Strange people come into the mortuary, family, with fists full of cash to spend just another hour with their loved one alone.
Afterward, you don’t think that was a family member but you’ve made one month’s rent in a single night. He keeps coming back. He tells other freaks. They come in the night when you’re alone. You have to hide the things they do to the bodies from your boss. Sometimes they take pieces. But at least your pockets are well lined. It was almost worth it until he came in.
He hid his face. You thought he was more shameful than the other necro-freaks. When you go to check on the body after he’s had his time with it. Fuck. He’d re-opened the chest cavity you so skillfully sewn shut post-autopsy. Everything was fucking gone. Worst of all? He skipped on paying you.
You manage to hide it from the boss. But he keeps coming back. He keeps taking more and more. You can’t go to the cops about him skimping your cash, you weren’t doing the most legal shit either. But you were too pussy to do anything about it. Especially after you walked in on one of his sessions and found a gray-fleshed monster eating strings of tendon from the body. 
How the hell are you going to get out of this one? 
The Archive
Just a magnus archive au where yn is John and the creepypastas are the fears. Think about it ok.
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unitedbydevils · 5 months ago
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Match Review: Manchester United 3-2 FK Bodø/Glimt
On the surface of it, a worryingly close win. In reality... the green shoots of optimism are beginning to sprout.
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United got off to another fantastic start, with Rasmus Hojlund's press and a goalkeeper error on the backpass allowing the Dane to slide the keeper, win the challenge, and Alejandro Garnacho rock up to the loose ball to tap home inside 60 seconds to make it 1-0.
The Red Devils would look the brighter of the two sides but, as Ruben Amorim warned after the Ipswich draw, the team still has issues around thinking about positions and duties. This was no more apparent than in the 18th minute:
Mazraoui (correctly) bursts forward to press a midfielder.
The ball is played through/behind, but Ugarte is ball watching and loses a yard on his man.
Ugarte recovers at RCB, with the help of De Ligt, and whilst Mazraoui returns and Martinez has his man, Bruno has left their other midfielder, Håkon Evjen, free on the edge of the United box to ding it top corner. Sigh.
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United would then be undone five minutes later as a long ball put Philip Zinckernagel in against the... unfit Tyrell Malacia. The LWB was comfortably beaten in the foot race, and with Matthijs De Ligt marking the other striker it left Zinckernagel free to shoot 1v1 past Onana to put the Norwegians in the lead.
Magic Mazraoui, yet again playing a blinder, would lead the turnaround though. In the 45th minute of play, moments before half time, the Moroccan would intercept a pass away from the Bodo box, skip past two players, and loop a deft cross into Rasmus Hojlund. Here we saw the lad's real potential - a gentle volley off his left to tee up another volley off his right and into the bottom corner. 2-2, sensational finish, scenes in the stands.
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Straight after half time United would continue the pressure, with Mason Mount hitting the bar in the 47th minute. The attacker - playing as one of the two 10s for Amorim flanking Hojlund - would then be part of a 4-man move that saw the Dane finish his second and give United the lead once more. An assured pass from Mazraoui, a backheel/roll from Mount into the path of Ugarte to bomb past, cross along the floor, tap for Rasmus. Clever, well executed football.
We neaaaarly had another Oh No Onana moment in the 76th minute, which then DID turn into another Oh No Garnacho moment at the other end; a 4v2 counter into their box resulted in the Argentine taking too long and looping a shot over the top right corner. Frustrating.
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3-2 in the end then, and it was a deserved win but it really should have been more against a rotated Bodo/Glimt side who have a title decider at the weekend.
Praise for Mazraoui, Ugarte, Hojlund, and Mount, but more needed from Garnacho (taking too long to shoot) and Bruno (defensive duties). Malacia was poor with his fitness but otherwise okay. Dalot subbed on... is fit but was barely better. United need to fix LWB longer term, but with Shaw playing more LCB I get the feeling that we might buy a LWB and retain Shaw after Maguire and Lindelof leave.
Here's some positives to end on, courtesy of Opta stats. That game, despite the close score, was the club's highest completed passes (723) in a major European match since the 03/04 season. The same applied for 70%+ possession, 20+ shots, and 40+ touches in the opposition box. A nice sign that we didn't see even in the best scoring moments of the Ole era.
Next up - Everton at Old Trafford, 1:30pm Sunday. Lets get another win. UTFR.
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existslikepristin · 4 years ago
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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.
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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).
452 notes · View notes
clarissalance · 4 years ago
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Who has the upper hand?
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Pairing: Kaeya x G/N!Reader, mention of Varka and Diluc.
Warning: Slight swearing, Kaeya is a lil shit, reader being stubborn and scheming, immense tension
Summary: You’re so terrible at swordsmanship that you can’t withstand 2 strikes from Kaeya or, are you? 
Word count: 3k5
Disclaimer: What is written in here is based on my imagination, nothing from this fic should be taken seriously. Most of the fact I put in this fic does not follow the lore of the game so it should only be taken as a grain of salt. For example: section 8 in Knight of Favonius codebook.
A/N: I struggle so much when I wrote this piece. This was suppose to be angstier but I tone down a little bit (because Kaeya was very OOC in my draft, I think he’s still a bit OOC in this fic but I tried my best ;-;, pls don’t bite me.) 
How did author write a 50k+ oneshot? I can’t write something more than 5k properly ;-; Anyhow, please enjoy this fic. I’m going to have a good rest for 2 weeks before release a comeback. Please shower Kaeya and our new MC with a lot of loves!!!! 
As a strategist of the knight of Favonius, you don't usually have enough time to finish the towers of reports, the never-ending meetings and dealing with cheap tricks Fatui diplomats. Often, you have to skip your daily sword training session, which results in a rather miserable situation. The whole practice ground is staring holes at your defeated posture. You are sitting on the hard soil ground, and the Calvary captain is towering you, his sharp blade just a few inches away from your throat. 
It is not a strange scene for any knights to lose a spar against the Calvary captain, he should be one with the best swordsmanship after Grand Master, and maybe Acting-Grand Master, too. However, as knight, they can usually withstand him at least more than 2 blows. 
Whispers and talks start to circulate around as soon as you stepped your foot in the training ground. It’s very uncommon to see people from that department wandering around this area. The strategy department is famous inside the Knight of Favonius to be the weakling-cunning-mouthy-jerks, who always find excuses after excuses to skip the monthly knight evaluation. 
So, who gives them the right to be exempt from the test? Of course, it’s from the ultimate high chief of strategy department. Rumours say before the strategy chief works for the Favonius knight, the man was once a legendary attorney. That person can flip words from black to white, turns the defendant from guilty to innocent.  With a profound convincing skillset coming from the chief, persuading the Grand Master Varka is easy as a piece of cake. The whole department of 10 people is easily off-hook for 3 years, never participate in the monthly evaluation before the man suddenly dropped the bomb 2 days ago.  
“ I’m tired from coming with excuses to cover for your lazy asses.” The man waved his hand, his eyes staring outside the window. His nails scratching the messy shaved chin.“ Varka seems to get used to navigating my thoughts-”
“Maybe time is wearing away your skill-” At the corner, someone accidentally blurted out, and the whole table gave him a sharp look. Did he have a death wish or something? If so, everyone here can happily dig him a hole, free charge for the coffin.
The chief cleared his voice again, blue eyes melancholy drifted to the table. “So, you guys have tried your best on this monthly evaluation. I hope to see you all again next month.” 
The meeting was dismissed afterwards, and everything spiralled into chaos. The whole department hasn’t touched anything aside from the parchment papers and the quills in the last 3 years. How are they going to master the swordman-ship in 2 weeks? 
But, the worst thing is,
Your well-respected, talented, and tactful chief has run away. 
The next morning, you received the news that a foxy old man is on a business trip to Fontaine with the Grand Master. The expedition is 2 weeks long.
You should have known what he meant when the deceitful man ambiguously ended his sentence like that. Nothing goes well when the chief said:  ‘Farewell, my comrades’. 
 For the last 2 days, you have been starting to familiarize yourself again with how to hold a sword and how to swing the sword. 
As you trail along with the long-forgotten memories, trying to look through the familiar feeling when swinging the sword, you hear footsteps coming in your direction. It is familiar, with the way the person is walking, the beat, the sudden burst of noise in the air, you can only conclude it’s the Calvary Captain. The practice ground seems livelier as soon as the man steps inside, people rushing to his side to give their greetings. Maybe today is one of his practice days.
 “ Never thought I would see you here.” The young man calls out, successfully jostle you up from your thoughts. You give him a complex look and turn away, focusing on the tattered dummies. Your wrist is screaming in protest, legs wobbling. You remember those golden days when you were young when you were flexible, and your bones didn't crack as much. Oh, where the golden days have gone? 
“What do I own the honour of seeing you here, captain?” You fold your arm defensively, voice monotonously. Kaeya despites the most when you start talking in an emotionless tone. Oh, how you love riling him up in the middle of the practice ground! 
“ I come here for my weekly practice, but-” He shrugs, eyes glinting with mischief. “ look like the rumour about the abolishment of special permission for the strategy department is true.” 
So he has heard the rumours. You roll your eyes, face blanks. You know Kaeya has his own way to obtain his information, but you never thought it’d be this fast. Words don’t easily leak from the strategy department. 
“What do you need? Make it short, so I can practice for the upcoming evaluation.” Tired of his long introduction, you ask him directly. If you are going to ignore him any longer, the man will continue poking you. 
Starting an argument only wastes your time, and asserting dominance in the middle of the training ground won’t boost your ego. You’re a strategist, your weapons are detailed plans and sharp word, not sword and bow. Showing off your strength in front of those ruthless knights don't improve your relationship with them. 
“ Straight the point eh?” You give him an impatiently look, tempting to ignore him again before he flashes you a smug grin. “How bout sparing with me?”  
The whole training ground falls in silence, and you direct at the captain a confusing look. Is he serious? No one in the knight except the Grand Master can go against him, not to mention someone who hasn’t touched a sword for three years. 
“I can help you with your training, and you can help with mine” Kaeya speaks with utmost confidence that you almost nod and agree. That man is really deceitful, he knows how well your skill has gone dull, yet he still wants to practice with you? What is this man plotting?  
“ Do you realize how absurd your offer is? ” You give him a complicated gaze, voice unwavering. Everyone takes in a deep breath, tension crackling. It's not everyday scenery you often encounter. A heated argument between the mischievous cavalry captain and the tactful strategist. Nosy people gather around the pair, internally hoping for the war the breaks out. 
“ You know well that I can’t properly block your first strike.” Light-hearted, you joke, but there is no hint of amusement in your voice. Sharpe eyes glaring at the blue figure, you notice the man remains unfazed. 
" Shouldn't you choose a more competent opponent?" 
The sound whispers and talking about the reasons why Kaeya picked such an easy opponent start to circulate, and you can’t help to curl your lips up. Within a  few seconds, you have effortlessly turned the gossiping direction toward your desired path. Flashing Kaeya a victorious grin, you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for his reaction.
You should have worked at PR damage control or marketing instead! The diplomat would have been fine too! At least, you wouldn’t need to practice swordman-ship.
As you mulling on your terrible choice of career, a chill runs down your spine. Tilting up, Kaeya is beaming sweetly at you, the frost slowly creeping up and nipping your shoes. Look like you just pressed the wrong button. 
The man narrows his eyes, and you gulp nervously, avoiding his calculating gaze. Kaeya chuckles, his voice laced with worry, wavering and hurtful. 
“I just want to help you improve as fast as possible. The test is coming in two weeks isn't it?” 
The whole table has turned, and people start to say how considerate and thoughtful the cavalry captain is. The crowd starts to criticize you and tell you to be more grateful and stop suspicious of his unconditional help. Oh, you wish he wasting it on you, many knights in this training ground would love getting advice and improvements from him. 
Applause for our dear Calvary captain, smoothly seeking empathy from the crowd and turning the favour back to him. No wonder how fast he climbed up the rank. 
Bantering and arguing with a person like him is meaningless, so you accept his offer and drag your sword toward his direction. Let finish this within 2 strikes. 
Moving to the centre of the field, both of you face each other, his eyes scanning you sceptically. What is this man plotting again? Bowing, you finally give him a warning look before standing at your ready position. Kaeya holds his sword, analyzing your starting posture. 
As soon as the whistle blows, you charge at the man, opening the spar with a direct hit. Kaeya quickly raises his word up to block the first blow, the sound of steel clashing loudly. He then forcefully diverts the sword to the left, a classic way to counter the strike. 
Knowing your limited strength against him, you take a step back and swiftly angle the blade downward, aiming for a weak spot at his waist. This move would create a noticeable weakness on your right, and only the idiot doesn't use this as his advantage to disarm you. 
You’re right, he uses the loophole you planned, successfully disarm you within 2 strikes. The sword slips from your hand clanging loudly behind as your foot slips and fall on the ground. 
His sharp blade is just a few inches away from your neck. The calvary captain wears a solemn look, his cerulean eyes imbued with irritation. Seems like he figures out you purposefully planed to end the match in 2 strikes. 
Quickly raising your hand in defeat, you shoot him a taunting grin. The referee declares Kaeya is the winner, and people start to clap and cheer loudly, but overall no one is surprised. As the match end, audiences start to disperse, return back to their tasks. 
Kaeya put his sword away and offers you his hand. You stare idly at the gloved hand a moment before putting yours on. The man effortlessly pulls you up, your body flush against his. With Kaeya so close to you, your first reaction is to push the man away, but his firm grip says otherwise. He inches closer, dark blue locks brush your cheek, tall figure towering you intimidating. 
“Why end it so early?” He leans down and whispers, your body tenses up visibly. “Surely, you could handle more than 2 strikes of mine.” The young man in blue hums, his voice sultry. 
“ What are you saying? I haven’t touched the sword more than 3 years.” You remind him, hands pushing his chest away, trying to create some distance. The man doesn’t budge an inch. 
“Your strikes doesn’t say so. The first strike was not bad.” Noticing your effort to push him away, Kaeya stands straight, heels dig into the ground. His lips curl up at the helplessness flashing in your eyes. He loves seeing you struggle, seeing how anxiety and desperation rising in your sparkling orbs. “I think you could at least have a decent fight with me.”  
“ Quit spouting non-sense Kaeya, let me go. We are in public.” You let out an annoyed hiss, punching his toned chest. He still wears the uniform improperly like that, the exposed tan chest can be under many layers. Sometimes you don't even know the reason why doesn't he just button the shirt up properly. Finger grazing at the bared skin on his chest, you turn your head away, cheeks heat up. 
The man loves seeing you squirming in his trap, and you’re not going to let him see that. Anything, but satisfying his masochist hobby. 
“You don’t like skin-ship?” The man fakes a gasp, his orb sparkles with mirth. “But you were being touchy with your friend. Why can't we be a bit touchy? ”  His tone suggestively, the tall man snickers at your blushing mess. Out of everything, why would he mention that? You give him stinky eyes, brows furrow deeply.  
“I’m not touchy with you.” You deny dreadfully. Archon, how long have you wasted your time here with this slithering serpent? 
Kaeya arms wrap tightly around you, your body moulds perfectly into his embrace. You hate how perfectly you fit into his hug like this, but you can’t deny how warm he is, despite the fact he wields cryo. 
“ When will you let me go?” Your voice starts to grow weak, dragging slightly in discomfort.  Kaeya curiously looks down, noticing your pouting. Sensing his gaze, you turn your head away but his fingers have quickly grabbed your cheek, forcing you to look at his deep blue eye.  
“Give me a kiss, then I'd let you go.” His voice serious, but what he just said is not. You look at the cryo wielder horrendously, mouth gaping. His face is composed and relax, like what he just ask is like asking about the weather, asking about your health, not for a kiss. Is he being serious? What in the world did he just ask? A kiss? Excuse me, a what? 
“You...you are not being serious.” You wriggle your way out, escaping from his fingers, but his embrace tightens, caging you inside. Damn it, Kaeya. He’s messing with you. 
When you flash him a furious look, the man shrugs nonchalantly, his cerulean lock fluttering gently in the wind. Suddenly, you have an urge to wipe off that calm demeanour. He can’t be serious. Why does he have to go all the way to annoy the shit out of you? 
The smug grin hanging on his face, the mischief in his blue eyes, the arching brows, everything about him screams a flirt, yet you feel so mesmerized. Blinking a few times, you have to constantly remind yourself this man is not trustworthy. From the attitude to the way he looks at you, to the way he acts around you. Nothing from his action is truthful. Like Diluc’s warning, you can only believe half of his word and action. 
“ Of course I’m being serious.” His voice solemn, but you can see the amusement in his eyes. If he doesn’t like you, why would he spend so much effort bothering you this much? What reaction is he expecting from you?  
“ I really like you, Y/N” Kaeya confesses cheerfully, and you can faintly hear a few gasps around. Not this again...
Archon, you’re going to die early at this rate. You just want to practice for the upcoming evaluation, not becoming a hot topic for all Mondstadt citizen to gossip about. 
And this man too, how can he easily slip out those words when you just heard him flirting with another woman the other day?  You already told him numerous times that you’re not interested in dating him, or anyone right now! 
Hung your head down in exhaustion, you tap his shoulder, mumbling quietly. “ Fine, fine.” You finally open your mouth, too exhausted and bothered by his stubbornness. He only wants a kiss, and you won’t hurt giving him one. Just a kiss then you can get back to your practice.  
“Just don’t confess your love to me in a crowd like this again.” Before closing the deal, you weakly add a bargain, nudging him.  
The calvary captain looks surprised, his eye widens little, not expecting you to agree. Normally, it takes another argument or two before you comply with his request. Kaeya timidly raises his gloved hand to your face, gently caresses your cheek. This time, you lean into his touch, nuzzling your face into his palm, eyes glimmering softly. Despite a cryo wielder, his hand is surprisingly warm. 
The man in blue curiously peeks at you, he feels like a feather tickling the itchy spot. Are you plotting an escape route? Since when did you become so obedient? He has never seen the soft fur under the spiky façade you set up to face with the world, but strangely, he likes this version of you more. 
Noticing his relaxed stance, you carefully gently wrap your fingers around his wrist while keeping eye contact with him. Kaeya eye widens, startles at your sudden touching. Trying your best to not break the unspoken connection, you bring his hand away from your cheek. In those cerulean eyes, you see a hint of disappointment, but it quickly dissolves. Slowly, you draw closer toward the hand hanging in the air, lips fluttering on the smooth skin on his wrist. 
The calvary captain instinctively moves back, trying to escape from your sudden contact. Ironic, he is the one who innates the hug and demands a kiss from you. Tightening your grip, you press your wet lips on the exposed part of his wrist dedicatedly while maintaining eye contact with him, eyes drown with submission.
Kaeya stares at you in awe, maybe not expecting the passionate look in your eyes. His azure eye fills with mischief, now replaces with confusion and hesitation. You notice how his ears have dusted with pink despite the winds blowing in the practice ground. The man avoids your eyes, flustering. 
Whispers and gasps start to remind you of the crushing reality, so you let his hand down while grinning cheekily at the cryo wielder. Poking and breaking Kaeya meticulously façade is always something you want to try. The man is a living devil, so it’s extremely unusual to see him losing his composure. 
Sneakily, you untangle his other arm wrapping around your waist, plotting an escape route. 
However, Barbatos doesn’t let you slip away that easily. Quickly regaining his composure, Kaeya snakes his hand around your hip again, tightening his hold. Unlike the first time, the sneaky bastard lifts you up and has the audacity to throw your body on his shoulder, carry you like a sack. 
“ Yah! What are you doing?” You exclaim, fluster at his sudden antic. Kicking and punching on his shoulder, you try as many as you can, but somehow, Kaeya manages to dodge all of them.   
“ You said you will let me go when I give you a kiss!” The crowd uproars, stares and gossips poke pointedly at your back. You don’t want to hear those comments from those knights again. They're not going to let this live down, aren't they? Bury your face in the Kaeya's furry collar, you let out a frustrating sigh, punching his shoulder as hard as you can. 
“ You give me a kiss on my wrist. That doesn’t count.” Kaeya nonchalantly strides away from the practice ground, unfazed by your attempt to escape. This man is a beast, how can he not budge an inch with all of your kickings on his shoulder? 
“ You didn’t specify the place. A kiss is a kiss!” You emphasize, and you can feel his shoulder shaking. Is he laughing? “You didn’t keep your promise.” Fuels by the rising anger, you kick your leg aggressively, struggling to free yourself from the iron-clad grip. This time, his strong arm wraps around your calves like a chain.  
As soon as you raise your head up, the familiar pathway hits your memories. Shit, he is heading toward the headquarter, likely to his office. You can’t let anyone in there see you in this state. Punching his back profusely, you shot back. 
“Not fulfilling the contract is breaking the Knight of Favonius's code of cond-.” Before you can finish your sentence, the man smacks your calves loudly, successfully shutting your mouth. Speechless by his sudden punishment, you let out a disbelief breath.    
“ There are no such a section states about fulfilling contract inside the code of conduct, so stop making the rule up.” Kaeya smugly grins, and you can already picture his blue eyes glinting with mischief, the signature shit-eating grin on his handsome face.
" There is, it's in section eight-" Before you can finish your sentence, Kaeya cuts in, waving his hand dismissively. 
" Section eight is about interaction with your co-worker, there is none about keeping contracts." The calvary captain humming, trying to recalling the content of the book. Speechless by the detailed memories of his, you can only close your mouth, quietly waiting for him to drop you down. If you stay still on his shoulder, will he let you go? 
" You know, not everyone reads and memories the knight of Favonius handbook, you are just unlucky that I know the book by heart." Seeing you deflate weakly on his shoulder, Kaeya lets out a chuckle, patting your head comforting.       
Before heading inside the HQ, the man doesn't drop your down but leans in closely, his whisper tickling your ear. “But at least I had fun seeing you squirming in my grasp.” 
And then it hits you, the bastard purposely falls for of your antic. 
863 notes · View notes
babymetaldoll · 4 years ago
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I've been working out a little bit (Spencer Reid/Reader)
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Requested: Yes.
Summary: Spencer has been working out with Penelope, and they are doing their best to keep it a secret. Until (Y/N) finds out and tries to help. And though he doesn't want to because he is embarrassed about his poor athletic performance, somehow she manages to help.  
Category: Fluff
Warnings: Curses, frustration. Good old fools in love.
Word count: 3.8K
A/N: Hello, pretty people! I've missed you! I hope you like this little story. It's one of the last requests pending on my list. Tomorrow I can finally visit my grandparents, I'll be taking care of them for at least two weeks, and though I know it's hard work, I am just so happy I can be with them again!! I miss them! Take care, whenever you are! Love you!
Masterlist
                                    𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁
- "No fucking way, Spencer!" (Y/N) widened her eyes and laughed so hard tears filled her eyes. She was sitting at her desk at work, staring at her best friend, who could barely walk due to the two hours he had spent that morning training with Penelope.
- "Please, don't tell anyone."- he whispered and looked around the bullpen. He was too embarrassed already to let anyone else know he had to take the mandatory fit test. He wanted to avoid the jokes, especially Derek's.
- "Your secret is safe with me, as always, chipmunk"- (Y/N) smiled and bit her lips, trying not to laugh anymore- "But why on earth are you working out? You have enough case hours to cover a fit test!"
- "Apparently, I can't skip it this year. Both me and Penelope have to take it."- Spencer whispered and sat down very slowly, pain written all over his face.
His best friend stared at him reading the mix of embarrassment and physical pain he felt with each movement he made. (Y/N) smiled and opened one of her drawers, looking for the last Snicker she had hidden in case of need. Watching Spencer in pain was precisely the case. She stood up and handed him the candy, making his heart skip a beat. Spencer did his best to hide the blush on his cheeks and just looked away.
- "I can help you if you want."- (Y/N) whispered and cut him the most adorable smile she had.
- "Help me what?"
- "Working out."- she replied and bit her granola bar- "I can teach you how to kick ass, and I do look hot wearing sweat shorts."
Spencer nearly chook. He flushed and closed his eyes, trying to cover up his embarrassment. But (Y/N) giggled and turned around. Her job there was done. Now Spencer had to be picturing her in her sweat shorts.
Of course, he was. He couldn't stop, actually.
The two agents were the youngest of the team, and somehow sometimes in-between cases, it showed. Especially when they were on their own, and their conversations ended up in casual flirting.
(Y/N) was head over feet in love with Spencer, though she was never going to face it. God knows Penelope had tried to force her to deal with her feelings. But she was closed as an oyster. No matter how much Garcia insisted or how drunk they were, (Y/N) kept denying her true feelings in public.
Spencer wasn't indifferent. Not at all. As a matter of fact, he was in love with (Y/N). Everything about her bewitched him. Ever since the first time he laid eyes on her, he felt it. She was tailor-made for him. If only he weren't a nervous wreck each time he saw her...
After two years working together, Spencer had managed to overcome part of my shyness and awkwardness around (Y/N). They were best friends, and they would usually hang out in their free time. The little free time they had in the BAU. But even when they could playfully flirt all the time, Spencer was sure she didn't like him that way. He convinced himself she was just joking.
--
(Y/N) headed to the Batcave holding a large frappuccino and knocked on the half-opened door before walking in.
- "Penelope García, I had the feeling you were running caffeine low."
- "Oh my pretty little thing! How do you do it? You read my mind!"- the tech analyst nearly hyperventilated as soon as she held her ice and creamed coffee.
- "Reid and I were out for a little break, and I knew you would like one of these to cheer up your afternoon"- Garcia sipped her frappuccino and nodded. But as soon as she had finished savoring the perfect coffee, she asked.
- "So, you and Reid..."
- "We were out getting coffee, like the best friends we are."
- "But, there's coffee here in the kitchenette. There's no need to go out and get coffee unless you want to find an excuse to be alone with him."- (Y/N) raised an eyebrow and sighed. Garcia did that every single chance she got.
- "You and I know the FBI doesn't share our concept of "good" coffee."- (Y/N) looked at her friend and just smiled- "Besides, I told you, I felt you needed some extra sugar and joy in your life after your early workout session this morning."
- "That little snitch!"- (Y/N) chuckled and shook her head.
- "Don't get mad at Reid. He didn't tell me anything. I kind of figured there was something wrong 'cos he looked in so much pain just breathing."
- "Oh man, he is sored, but I am sure he would be way sorer if you train with him."
- "I offered myself to help him"- Garcia raised an eyebrow at (Y/N) 's words, and the young agent wide opened her eyes, blushing- "Stop staring at me like I'm a perv! I meant helping him train for the test. I could help you too."
- "Thank you, but no, thank you. I trained with you, and there's no way we are going to do all that boxing again."
- "Come on! You said you had fun!"
- "I did! I really did... but I could barely move the next day! And I had a date! I couldn't even dance, less doing... other... nevermind"- Penelope stopped herself in her tracks and shook her head.
- "Shit, PG!"- (Y/N) closed her eyes and chuckled- "Spare me the details."
- "Sorry... anyway... you and the little genius should definitely train in a more... horizontal way."
- "Garcia! Stop it!"- (Y/N) laughed and stood up- "I'm gonna go back to work 'cos clearly you have some hormonal issues today, and you are projecting."
- "Stop acting like you haven't thought about it!"- Garcia said and chuckled as her friend walked away.
- "I'm not telling you anything."
- "That means yes!"
- "No! it doesn't!"- (Y/N) was blushing; that's why she refused to turn around and look at Penelope.
- "Oh! It so does!"
--
The end of that day found Spencer even more sore, hungry and weary than he had felt in years. All he wanted to do was go home, eat pizza leftovers from the night before, and go straight to bed.
Until...
- "Hey, chipmunk!"- (Y/N) looked at Spencer, gathering all his things and getting ready to go home.- "Dinner at my place tonight. My treat."
- "I can pick the take out tonight?"- he said immediately and asked himself where did that come from if, a second earlier, all he wanted to do was to go to bed. Probably from the same place that kept coming back to the image of her in sweat shorts.
- "Even better. I'll cook"- (Y/N) answered and winked, playfully- "You deserve a proper homemade dinner after all the workout you did this morning."
Spencer looked at her and didn't even notice the silly smile on his face. If he had known how in love he was looking, he would have probably slapped himself. (Y/N) sighed and stood up.
- "I'm gonna take that silence as a "Great (Y/N)! Thank you! How considered! I'm so lucky to have you in my life".
Spencer rolled his eyes and shook his head.
- "Thank you, (Y/N). But I'll give you more praise if your food turns out to be eatable"- the young agent gasped, pretending to be insulted by his words, and hit Reid's arm with her knuckles.
- "Auch! (Y/N)!"
- "I'm being nice, and you are insulting me! I'm having second thoughts about driving you over!"
- "I can take the subway! You are such a slow driver I can actually be there faster."
Spencer stuck out his tongue at her and ran to the elevator, 'cos his friend widened her eyes and ran after him, probably to hit him again.
Morgan and Prentiss stared at the scene in silence, sharing a few looks, both of them thinking the exact same thing: "When are these two goofs ever going to hook up?"
- "They are annoying"- Rossi stood next to Emily's desk and crossed his arms on his chest.
- "They are in love"- she corrected, but David shook his head and sighed.
- "I know, and they are adorable, but it's so annoying staring at the same scene over and over again, waiting for something, anything, to happen between them."
- "Are you turning into a bitter old man who completely forgot about the charm of being young and in love?"- Prentiss raised an eyebrow and turned to Rossi. The Italian stared right into her eyes and shook his head.
- "I'm just saying someone should try to tell them something."
- "I've tried to talk to him about her a million times. But Reid is one private kid."- Derek said from his desk as the three of them stared at Spencer and (Y/N) getting into the elevator, still arguing and playfully playing.
- "And he is so insecure. He doesn't think she likes him."
- "Likes him? She is clearly in love with him!"- Prentiss said, annoyed- "I swear, if nothing happens between them this weekend, I'm going to intervene."
- "Now who is forgetting about the charm of being young and in love?"- Rossi joked and sighed- "Come on guys, dinner's on me."
--
(Y/N)' s dinner was a success. Spencer ate two portions of honey mustard-glazed chicken bake. She even managed to make him eat vegetables. And Spencer didn't even argue. Not only because it was delicious, and his body really needed some homemade dinner. But also 'cos (Y/N) got him wrapped around her fingers, even without knowing it. And if she asked him to eat veggies, Spencer (no matter how much he would argue) would eat his damn veggies. And he could actually enjoy them.
- "Ok, chipmunk, you ate all your food. You earned your dessert"- (Y/N) smiled and picked the dirty dishes from the table.
- "Let me do that. You already fed me. The least I can do is do the dishes."
Spencer followed her moves and took the dishes to the sink. (Y/N) didn't argue with that. It wasn't the first time Spencer cleaned the kitchen with her, after all. They had been good friends, close friends, for a long time, and they were used to being around each other.
But this time, it felt somehow different. Like there was something in the air warning them things were about to change for good.
- "Ok, doc. Do you wanna eat your dessert watching tv for a while?"- (Y/N) handed Spencer an ice cream bowl with chocolate chips on top and some whipped cream.
- "A smiley ice cream bowl?"- Spencer chuckled as he stared at it. He loved it.
- "Yes, you are never too old to eat food with a smile on it. And that's a life lesson, Spencer Walter Reid."- she said and walked to the couch, holding the remote control.
- "You are filled with wisdom, (Y/N)"- Reid teased her and sat by her side.
- "I know. It would help if you let me train you. You would pass your fit test in a blink."- she said and continued surfing channels.
- "Thanks, but no thanks. I wanna do it on my own."- Spencer glued his eyes on the screen and ate his dessert. (Y/N) just nodded and continued surfing channels.
- "Why?"- she asked him after a few minutes. They had been watching an old movie in silence, just eating their ice cream.
- "Why what?"- he whispered and looked at her just for a second. He didn't trust himself around (Y/N), especially under those circumstances: alone in her house. She had changed into leggings and an old extra-large sweatshirt. Her hair was in a messy bun. And Spencer didn't feel able to look at her into the eyes, 'cos he was going to cave in. He was going to grab her face with both hands and kiss her right there. No questions asked.
Which is why he avoided looking at her.
- "Why don't you want me to help you train?"
- "Just because"- he answered and glued his eyes to the screen. But (Y/N) knew better. She moved closer to him on the couch and held his hands. Spencer shivered right away at the sensation of her skin. It was so warm and soft. All he craved was some more of that. He wanted to feel her. Touch her. Taste her.
His head was going way too fast, and just because she held his hand.
- "Spencer, look at me"- she whispered and practically begged her friend to pay her attention- "I just wanna help. It's just a stupid fit test. It ain't hard."
- "For you."- he mumbled and looked down at his hand as her fingers played against his skin.
- "I didn't want you or anyone to help me 'cos I'm a fucking SSA who should be perfectly able to perform a simple fit test on his own. But no. I can't! And do you know what that means?"
- "That finally I know there's one thing you are not good at?"- she answered and smiled at him. Spencer raised his eyes and met hers. He knew his cheeks were all shades of pink, but for once, he just didn't care. He just wanted to look at her and see if she meant it. Or if she was just teasing him.
- "Right"- he snorted and shook his head.
- "I mean it, Spencer. You don't have to be good at everything."
- "It's a fit test. It's basic to be an agent. I need to be able to catch an unsub."- (Y/N) frowned and tried to understand where all that self-doubt and insecurity was coming from. To her eyes, Spencer had nothing to be ashamed of. To her, he was perfect in every single way.
- "You already catch unsubs, chipmunk. Everyday. You don't have to kick down doors to make a profile. And you don't have to run six miles to get the bad guy. Everything that you do every day at work is what an SSA is supposed to do. And you excel at it."
(Y/N) sighed and smiled at her best friend, trying to push aside the urge she felt to kiss him. His golden-brown eyes looked so big, like honey pools, she could stare for a lifetime. Spencer didn't know what to say. He really wasn't good with praises. He wasn't used to them. Not in that way.
- "Besides"- (Y/N) added after a few seconds of silence when she realized she might have said too much and started panicking.
- "It feels good to finally know there is one thing I am better than you at."
- "What are you talking about?"- Spencer answered right away, in the sassiest tone of voice.- "Just because I suck working out doesn't mean you are better. Even at my lowest, I'm still better than whatever you can do in a gym."
Reid was obviously joking. He knew (Y/N) could kick ass. Not only had she saved his life many times on the field, but also, he had seen her working out. And she could definitely kick his ass if she wanted to.
That didn't mean he wasn't going to tease her just because.
- "You take that back, Reid!"- she threatened him and
- "No"- he sentenced and crossed his arms on his chest
- "Last chance. Take it back, or you will pay for it."
- "Make me."
And that was it.
In a second, (Y/N) was on him tickling him, and trying to practice a chokehold on him. But Spencer was faster, and somehow, stronger than her. Maybe it was because he was struggling with himself. A part of him wanted her closer, and a part of him didn't want her too close, 'cos he knew his pants were going to start feeling too tight if she did.
Whatever the reason was, after two minutes of wrestling, Spencer had (Y/N) pinned down against the couch. And the way she panted against the fabric of the cushion wasn't helping him with his pants.
- "Spencer, it hurts"- she cried and tried to move from his grip, but he didn't let her go.
- "If you want me to release you, you have to say I am the best agent in this house."
- "Never!"- (Y/N) quickly answered and continued struggling.
- "Just say it, I've got you held, and I'm not going to let you free until you say it."- something in his tone of voice, it was teasing but also... sexy? (Y/N) knew Spencer wasn't trying to act that way, but it was working for her in a way she hadn't imagined. He would be so soft. And now, there he was, acting like a dominant man, holding her tight, not letting her move, literally pinned against the couch.
If only it were all happening in a different context.
- "Let me go, Spencer Reid!"- (Y/N) battled against his arms, but it was useless
- "Just say it"- he leaned in and whispered in her ear, and (Y/N) sword she could almost feel his smile as he spoke.
- "You are the best agent!! There, happy?"- she mumbled, making her best to sound annoyed and not turned on. Spencer released her, and she quickly sat down properly, rubbing her left wrist.
- "Did I hurt you?"- Spencer whispered and noticed how flustered she was. That was a first.
- "No. But I gotta tell you, you are stronger than I thought."- she said and stuck out her tongue to him, trying to be playful and innocent, though you could feel it in the air. That moment was anything but innocent.
- "Yeah, I've been working out a little bit."- Spencer answered and chuckled at his own words.
- "Well, you are going to have to learn how to control your new strength, 'cos this is going to leave a bruise"- (Y/N) whined and showed him her sore wrist. Spencer winced, ashamed he had been so hard on her without meaning any harm. He moved closer to her and held her wrist carefully. (Y/N) just looked at him as he kissed her wrist a few times.
That man couldn't be real. He was such a tease.
Did he know all the things he was, in fact, doing to her with that simple touch?
He surely had to know. Otherwise, there was no explanation, she thought.
- "Thanks"- (Y/N) whispered and fixed her eyes on his lips, still landing small kisses on her wrist.
That was when she stopped breathing. Spencer was literally breathtaking. He smiled at her, and she just couldn't help it anymore. (Y/N) leaned in and kissed him. It was a soft, short peck. But she had dared to do the unthinkable.
She kissed her best friend.
Spencer widened his eyes, shocked, and looked at her, not saying a word. They just stayed still for a good thirty seconds until Spencer finally made his move, cupping her jaw carefully with both hands and pulling her face against his.
The way she moaned into the kiss made him feel more in control than he had ever been before.
It was a soft kiss but intense. Spencer's lips rubbed carefully against her mouth, and his tongue moved carefully, making its way until he could taste her. (Y/N) moved closer to him until she was basically sitting on his lap, and his arms wrapped around her body, locking her against him.
They were in heaven.
Until it was over. Their phones buzzed at the same time, breaking the spell, ending the charm. (Y/N) jumped from Spencer's arms and grabbed her phone.
- "We've got a case"- she whispered and turned to him. He was agitated, his cheeks were red, his pants felt tight, and he was starving for more of those kisses.
- "Ok."- he replied but didn't move.
- "I'm gonna change, then we can go."- (Y/N) added, but he didn't say a word. To be fair, Spencer wasn't processing what was going on. He was still trying to elaborate a coherent thought. And most of all, he was fighting the boner in his pants that didn't let him stand up.
You could blame all the sugar in his body after the massive bowl of ice cream, or all the praising (Y/N) had given him, but Spencer found a new level of courage in that kiss. He decided it was time to stop overthinking it. It was time to act on his feelings.
- "(Y/N)"- Reid knocked on her bedroom door and heard her from the walking closet.
- "I'm almost ready. Did you talk with Garcia?"
- "No, but I don't wanna leave things like this. I wanted to talk about what just happened."
(Y/N) sighed and took a look at herself in the mirror. She could still feel her cheeks burning after that kiss, after feeling her best friend hard underneath her body, holding her against him. But she wasn't sure she wanted to hear what Reid was about to say. Most of all, because she was sure it was going to be something along the lines: "That kiss was a mistake, you are my friend. I don't wanna ruin this."
- "That kiss was..."- he mumbled and walked to her as soon as she showed up in the room, but words were hard to find when she looked at him that way.
- "Spencer, I..."- she tried to speak, but he just continued.
- "Would you like to..."
- "Pretend it didn't happen?"
- "Go out on a date with me?"- the two of them said at the same time and widened their eyes in shock.
- "What?"- (Y/N) questioned and stared at her best friend in shock- "You want to go out with me?"
- "You want to pretend it never happened?"- he asked her, scared he might have rushed to the wrong conclusions.
- "No, no, no, I don't... I can't pretend it didn't happen"- (Y/N) quickly answered and held Spencer's hand, afraid she might have ruined everything.
- "I was just scared you were going to reject me or..."- (Y/N) bt her lips and dared to look at him- "I wanna go out on a date with you"- she whispered and watched his whole face change as a big silly grin drawn on his lips.
- "Really?"- he murmured, still not sure it was actually happening. He asked her out. She said yes. He was sure that was never going to happen in real life.
- "Really"- she assured him and leaned in slowly to kiss him one more time. But her phone rang again, and so did his. This time it was a message from Hotch. Wheels up as soon as they reached the FBI.
- "But after we catch the bad guy."- (Y/N) added, and Spencer chuckled.
- "Sounds like a plan."
Spencer Reid’s taglist: 
@calm-and-doctor @all-tings-diego
Requested by @shilohpug​ 
449 notes · View notes
fandomlit · 4 years ago
Text
proximity concert (corpse husband x reader)
requested by @greenie-of-shield “reader is friends with like James Charles and is really good at guitar or ukulele and singing and one day they are all streaming together and like they hear reader playing in the background of someone’s mic and ask who it it’s like James is like “ooh yeah this is my friend (y/n)” they all say hi and corpse compliments her voice and like they ask her to play among us with them and when she dies in among us she plays music for her stream or her friends in proximity chat and stuff. She and corpse get close cause of music and it spirals into like a friends to lovers or something”
summary you’re hanging in the background as your dear friend james charles records an among us video with some youtuber friends (pewdiepie and his usual gang). you decide to entertain james with some ukulele and singing, and end up gaining the welcome attention of youtube’s beloved horror narrator.
warning swearing, sexual reference
Tumblr media
gif cred belongs to @datchidatchi​
“let’s go!” james cheered when his screen displayed a bright blue crewmate label. you cheered behind him, your voice distant and the sight of you blurry on his camera as you raised your ukulele to cheer with him. he laughed. “oh wait, im not supposed to be muted, we’re using proximity..” you laughed as he unmuted himself and went to do his tasks.
james groaned as he began to download in weapons, slumping against his desk. “this is the most boring task for no reason,” he complained. then he turned to you suddenly and you gave him a surprised look. “y/n, queen, can you sing me a song to pass time?”
you laughed but nodded at your best friend, beginning to strum your ukulele into an upbeat tune. james cheered at the familiar tune. before you could sing the first line out, he waved you over. you paused your strumming to question, “what?”
“come to the mic!” he exclaimed. “let the people hear your beautiful voice!”
you laughed again and went over to his mic. “hi,” you spoke closely into his mic, looking into his camera. he laughed as you leaned back and began to strum the tune again. “sittin’ all alone, mouth full of gum in the driveway..”
james was too busy dancing and you were too busy singing to notice his download had finished and many people had come and go through weapons during the entire scene.
“my friends aren’t far, in the back of my car lay their bodies,” you sang smoothly. “where’s my mind? where’s my mind?” you grinned. “they’ll be there pretty soon, lookin’ through my room-” you cut yourself off as an emergency meeting was called. you clapped a hand over your mouth and pressed a quick kiss to james’s cheek before sneaking back into the background.
james gaped at the perfect lipstick mark you had left on his cheek as toast spoke, “okay, does anyone else hear the ukulele playing or am i going crazy?”
“i was actually just about to ask about that,” corpse spoke. james’s camera zoomed in on your shocked face at his voice.
‘is that corpse?’ you mouthed. james nodded, leaning to mute himself.
“crazy, right?” he laughed. you nodded frantically as he turned back to the game.
“so who is it..?”
“it’s me, guys, sorry,” james spoke. “well, not me, but it’s coming from my room.”
“.. what?”
“my friend y/n is here entertaining me,” james laughed as he explained. “but im honored you’d think my voice is as angelic as hers.”
“i will kiss you!” you exclaimed, loud enough that the mic could pick up your voice. they all burst into laughter.
“sorry,” james said again.
“no, it’s okay, i was just making sure people were doing their tasks,” toast chuckled. “cause i don’t think you can play the ukulele and among us at the same time..”
“not as good as y/n did, anyway,” corpse backed up.
“yeah.”
“your voice is very pretty,” corpse complimented. you placed a hand to your heart as james grinned at you teasingly.
“thank you!” you called over. they laughed simply at the distance and abruptness of your voice. “i think your voice is pretty, too! just like the deep part.” james burst into hysterical laughter.
“thank you,” corpse chuckled. “we, uh, we can skip now.”
“you made him flustered,” james said, turning to you after everyone had dispersed to finish their tasks.
“here, wait, find him,” you spoke, scooting your chair up next to james’s mic. 
“you got it, sis.”
james found corpse alone in electrical. corpse turned away from his task to stare down james. “are you here to kill me?”
“no,” james laughed.
“we’re here to sing!” you spoke into the mic.
“oh, great,” corpse chuckled.
“any requests?” you asked, picking at your strings to make sure they were tuned.
“uh.. something with cuss words.”
james let out a loud laugh as you giggled. “okay, i can do that.” you thought for a moment before looking down to your strings, “fuck you, and you, and you. i hate your friends and they hate me, too. im through, im through, im through. this that hot girl bummer anthem turn it up and throw a tantrum.
“this that got girl bummer anthem turn it up and throw a tantrum, this that throw up in your birkin bag, hook up with someone random. this that social awkward suicide that-” a body was reported and you cut yourself off again as corpse groaned.
“guys, i was getting a concert,” corpse complained as you and james laughed.
“okay, well, sykkuno is dead, so i think that trumps your concert,” pj sassed.
“where was his body?”
..
after that round, and much more entertainment of your uke playing, the crewmates managed to beat out the imposters; toast and felix.
“y/n, you should join,” corpse spoke as you all loaded back into the lobby.
“yeah!” rae agreed, many others piping up to encourage you in.
“shit, i don’t know where my laptop is,” you laughed.
“go find it!” james exclaimed. “corpse wants you to play!”
“oh my god, hold up,” you said, handing james your uke and running out of the room.
“so, corpse,” james spoke, strumming your uke as best as he could with his long nails. “what are your intentions with my girl, y/n?” everyone burst into laughter, including the now red-faced faceless youtuber.
..
you were the first to die. gasped at your screen, you grabbed your ukulele. you had gone into a separate room from james to be able to play fairly, but you weren’t very good at the game in the first place.
“james!” you yelled out.
“yeah?”
“request?”
there was a pause. “something sad!”
“got it!” you sighed as you turned back to your laptop screen, considering. you had begun streaming to your youtube when they asked you to join, and now your chat was blowing up with sad song requests. “oh, that’s a good one. thanks..” you let out a laugh. “corpselover3340. i got you, hun.”
you started to strum the song, but as you were playing, corpse’s ghost appeared by yours. “hello, y/n.” you stopped your playing, sitting up straight.
“oh, hi, corpse!” you exclaimed. “request?”
“cuss words, please.”
you laughed. “i got you, i got you..” you considered before beginning to play, “a few weeks ago, i could only do ten pushups. six months ago, i thought you were my girl. but now things have changed, and im so tired. i thought that i was your world. but now you’ve got new friends, and you have all beginnings, well i’ve got ends.. that i didn’t want.
“and yeah, you fucked some other dude.. i guess he loves u more than i do.”
“there it is.”
“what?” you asked, looking up from your uke with a laugh.
“oh, i was just waiting for the cuss word. continue.” 
you let out a laugh, but just before you could start playing again, a dead body was reported.
“sean’s body was electrical..”
..
the round was long. after you serenaded corpse a few times, you both talked about music and how you both got into it. eventually, it was just james, felix, rae, and sykkuno left.
“well, there’s only one imposter left..,” sykkuno sighed after calling the meeting. 
“i think it’s felix.”
as they all started pointing fingers at each other, james was mostly quiet, to your absolute surprise. then, interrupting a yelling match between rae and felix, james spoke, “do you think y/n and corpse are fucking in ghost chat?”
before anyone could react, corpse unmuted himself to confirm, “yes.” everyone exploded into laughter, you included. as innocently as he could, corpse spoke, “oh, was i unmuted? my bad..” and he muted himself again.
after that round and everyone had gotten their aggressions out on each other, sean reminded everyone with a laugh, “fucking in the ghost chat.. i can’t.”
you all laughed at the reminder.
“oh, y/n, we should go,” james sighed. “we gotta get that video edited before midnight.”
you sighed with him. “yeah, that’s gotta get done.. thank you all for letting me play, it was a lot of fun.”
“bye, y/n!”
“feel free to join again!”
“oh and corpse,” you called out.
“yeah?”
“that was not fucking,” you clarified, making everyone laugh and ‘ohhh’. 
“no?” he prodded.
“nah, that purely foreplay, baby,” you confirmed. “see you all!” and you left the call just as they all exploded again.
james walked into the room you were in before you turned off your live. he placed his hands on his hips. “young lady, we need to have a talk.” you laughed and turned off signed off.
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jokertrap-ran · 4 years ago
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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Black VS Black [黑色对峙] Date Translation (END 6: Heart-throb)
“Do you really think that I think there’s no helping you?”
*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (^▽^)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 6 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom *Requested by anon! You can check my on-going requests and more here!
✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★
The cat caused an incident! What should I do?
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⊹ Check the fallen model ⊹
I didn’t think too much about it, instead, hurrying over to where the car model had fallen. 
I picked it up and inspected the damages.
There was a long crack in the middle and several parts had broken off, scattering compartments all over the floor.
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MC: Can this… still be saved…?
Just as I was thinking of how to break this bad news to Osborn, his low voice sounded from behind.
Osborn: What a big commotion.
Osborn: What? Did Mitt get into an accident?
I steeled myself and stopped covering the scene of the “car accident” that had occurred. I got up and handed him the car model that I held.
MC: The “culprit” knocked this car model down and fled.
Osborn frowned, reaching me in a couple of long strides.
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He took the model and turned it around a couple of times, observing it with an indifferent look on his face.
MC: Is it too damaged to fix?
Osborn: I can just send it for repairs over the next few days. Let's go look for the cat first.
He calmly placed the broken car model back onto the shelf, taking a “let’s talk about this later” stance.
This model had been placed together with many other car models that looked new, pristine, and without a scratch. Not to mention, the glistening trophy that had been right next to it. A wild guess entered my mind.
MC: Do all the car models here hold some sort of commemorative meaning?
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Osborn: Hm? Why do you ask?
MC: I mean, if they are some sort of special memento to you, then they should have been subjected to routine maintenance, right?
MC: If so, then you should also have the tools for it along with any part replacements, yes?
Thoughtfulness slipped into his eyes.
Osborn: You want to help me fix it?
MC: Yeah! That cat was just spooked real bad, and it wouldn’t do us any good if it got a bigger fright the next time and reacted even worse to it if we continued chasing after it.
MC: So, why don’t we leave the cat hunt for later and fix the car model back up first?
MC: Plus, I’m pretty dexterous with my hands. Wanna give me a chance to show you my prowess?
He raised an eyebrow, his pale green eyes glinting.
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Osborn: Okay. Here's your time to shine.
Osborn stretched his arms over my head. For a while, all I could see was his broad chest. I felt my breath hitch.
Then, he suddenly lowered his head. His face was incredibly close to mine.
The scent of black cedar assaulted my nose. I blinked. My brain was lagging.
MC: Oh, okay.
Osborn: Take it.
My gaze slid to his hand. Turns out that he’d just been fetching the toolbox that had been in the cabinet above the display shelves.
Osborn: I'm waiting.
I took the toolbox from him and opened it.
I was greeted by a multitude of components in all shapes and sizes. Some of the tools in it were similar to the ones I used when making my designs, but there were also some that I’d never seen before.
I picked up a tool that looked like a cross between a pen and a knife, looking to Osborn for advice.
MC: What's this?
Osborn: An exacto knife. It’s used to cut off excess parts of the joints when required.
MC: Mmhm, okay. I've remembered it.
Osborn: This is a cutting plier, screw sanders, tweezers...
Osborn picked out a couple more tools from within the box and introduced them to me.
Osborn: Anything else you can't recognize?
MC: Not for now.
Osborn: Okay. Then let's remove the damaged compartments first.
MC: Okay.
First, we used a screwdriver to remove the damaged compartments. Then, we replaced them with brand-new spare parts.
This race car model was really different from those being sold out in the market. It was made with exquisite craftsmanship, and its internal makings were far more complicated than I'd initially thought.
When it was time to add colours to it, Osborn prepared the required paints and set them out in measured portions onto the palette with ease and finesse. He smoothly handed me a brush.
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Osborn: Do you know how to touch up the paintwork?
I hesitated.
MC: I've painted outfit designs before for design needs, but I'm sure it's completely different from actually painting a model.
MC: I don't know if it works the same…
Osborn: See my demonstration first then.
He dipped his brush into the red paint, carefully painting it onto the model. It came out very uniform and smoothly layered.
I'd stared at him, watching him do it a couple more times. But, no matter how much I watched the same process, I couldn't quite grasp it. Even if I tried mimicking his actions, my paintwork always turned out patchy and uneven.
Osborn laughed, placing his hand over mine and directing the brush I held.
He directed my brush, guiding me on how I should be painting the compartment with a focused look on his face.
It was all serious and business, except… My focus was inevitably drawn towards his movements and breaths.
Osborn: Get it?
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MC: Mmhm...
I tried my hardest to remember the way he did it and followed suit. The end result was much smoother than what I'd been accomplishing before.
After the finishing touches were in place, I raised the model and showed it to him.
MC: Like… this? This should be done now, right?
Osborn: Not bad. You've got standard.
My spirits soared at having received such direct praise from him.
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MC: Since I'm such an apt learner, how about enlisting my help again the next time you make another model of a race car?
Osborn slightly raised a brow as he contemplated my paint-stained hands.
Osborn: I'll think about it.
MC: Does this even need to be considered?
MC: I'm pretty quick to pick up hands-on skills, not just fixing up models of racing cars! So I'm a fast learner no matter what it is!
MC: You can test me again if you don't believe me!
Just as I was boasting about my assets in an attempt to make myself appeal to him, Osborn's calloused fingers suddenly brushed against my cheek.
The rough texture of the pads of his fingers made my heart skip a beat.
MC: What's wrong?
Osborn: You got something on your face.
I doubtfully touched my face. Suddenly, I pulled my hand away to find my fingers stained with red paint.
Astonished, I look at Osborn's hands, only to find even more red paint on them…
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MC: Don't tell me you drew something on it!!
Osborn: What gives?
MC: Hey! You're biting the hand that feeds!
Osborn: Whatever do you mean by that?
Osborn: I'm just adding some blush and colour to your face. Makes you prettier.
I was taken aback, nonetheless.
MC: Okay. Then, I'll add some colour to your cheeks for you!
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Osborn: Whoa, hey! Easy!
MC: Nothing you say now is gonna stop me!
I swiftly picked up the brush and dipped it into the paint set out onto the palette, rushing straight for his face.
Osborn quickly reared back, but I subconsciously followed right after his retreat.
And this was how I toppled him down to the ground with him doing nothing to defend himself.
Osborn was astonished. He'd attempted to get back up, only for my other hand to immediately dart out to pin him down by the shoulder.
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MC: No moving!
Surprise flashed through his eyes, as his usual impish smile crawled its way back up his face.
Osborn: Wow, what an aggressor.
MC: That's right. Now's my time to retaliate!
MC: No use trying to escape!
I circled the air with the brush, purposefully observing his face to make my mark.
MC: Hmm, what do you want me to draw on you?
Osborn seemingly accepted the fact that he was going to be an inevitable victim of mine since I already had him "pinned" down. He folded his arms behind his head, giving my question some serious thought.
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Osborn: An air drawing?
MC: Dream on!
Osborn: Mercy, please. I beg you.
MC: It's too late to be begging me for mercy.
MC: Hmph. Just watch me improvise on the spot~
Just as I was rummaging through my brain for a glimmer of inspiration, a light bulb suddenly lit in my head. 
I had an image now: Mitt as it was fleeing.
❖☆———————————★❖
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I leaned down, supporting myself on Osborn's shoulder. 
Following the curve of his jaw, I applied colour to his skin, drawing a colourful cat.
Osborn had his guard down, seemingly content to watch me work my "artistic talents" with him as the canvas.
The surroundings lapsed into silence.
I was drawing it on with such rapt concentration, yet I was still able to notice his long black lashes and hear his familiar steady breathing ever so clearly. I could somewhat feel the slight rise and fall of his chest.
I vaguely registered our close proximity to each other. My heart seemed unable to settle with the fact that we were so close to each other that our breaths intermingled, clamouring loudly within my chest.
I blinked twice, finishing off the last stroke before getting up and putting some distance between us.
❖☆———————————★❖
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Osborn: Done?
I nodded.
Osborn: What do you think of your work of art?
Huh? Is he asking me to rate my own work?
I quickly gave him a once over, only to realize that I'd been distracted at the end, so it'd turned out a little funky. I nearly laughed at it right then and there.
MC: Ahem. I think it's not bad! You've got a big kitty on you now!
He waggled his brows, lazily raising his body halfway back up. His features were suddenly enlarged before my eyes once more as he leaned closer.
Osborn: Happy now?
MC: Mmhm… Pretty happy.
Osborn: Then let me tell you something that'll make you even happier.
He moved even closer, his words gently flowing with the air, wrapping themselves around my ears.
I shuddered as a scalding heat started creeping up my neck.
MC: ...What is it?
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Osborn: The other kitty's right behind you.
Mitt: Meow~ Meow~
The last of his words were drowned out by the sudden meowing that sounded.
I snapped out of the trance of the moment, much to my embarrassment. Mitt had actually slinked behind me somehow without my knowing!
MC: Right, we should hurry and catch it before it gets up to no good again!
I quickly climbed off Osborn, flushing red as I fled.
A light chuckle sounded behind me in response.
❖☆———————————★❖
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By the time we found Mitt, it was already sprawled out beside the TV cabinet with its paws stuck underneath, fiddling with something in the gap.
Recalling the layout of his living room, I quietly tip-toed and whispered my idea into Osborn’s ear.
MC: I’ll take left, you take right. We’ll pincer it.
Osborn: It’s already here, so there’s no need to go through so much trouble.
MC: Huh?
Osborn: Just wait and see.
Osborn took a couple of long strides forwards in the direction of the cat.
I followed after him, quietly approaching the black cat. However, my attention was suddenly caught by the photo frame that the cat had just been playing with.
Picking up the frame, I carefully observed it…
In the picture were Osborn and a couple of familiar-looking teammates. They’d all had an arm around each other’s shoulder, beaming as they held the same trophy.
Their faces all look much younger… Is this a photo from years ago?
The race car in the background had a red and white body with an orange rear spoiler, similar to the car model that Mitt had batted off its perch earlier.
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MC: Don’t tell me… Was that car model made based on this race car?
I was lost in thought when a sudden meow broke my train of thought.
Osborn: Still wanna run?
❖☆———————————★❖
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I raised my head to see Osborn with both arms raised, gently holding up the cat in question.
The bright and warm sunlight shone in through the window, carefully outlining his chiselled side-profile and the contours of his muscles.
Although Mitt had already been caught, it still glared daggers at Osborn. It was as if a cat and a human were engaged in a silent battle with each other.
After a while, Mitt seemed to register the fact that it’d lost, meowing pitifully in that soft cry once more.
❖☆———————————★❖
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Osborn: Oh? You know how to beg for mercy now, don’t you?
Osborn carried Mitt to the little corner we’d set up for it. Mitt seemingly gave up on the game of chase, lowering its head to eat the cat food that we’d prepared for it since the very beginning.
Watching it eat its food so obediently, I couldn’t help but kneel down and stroke its round head.
Mitt cast a doubtful glance at me, but turned its head, indulging nuzzling itself into my palm.
MC: !
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MC: I touched it! How cute…
Osborn: You’re that excited from just being able to touch it?
MC: Yeah. It looked so naughty that I thought I wouldn’t be able to touch it today.
Osborn: It’ll come running up to you for a lick or two so long as you have food.
MC: Then I MUST let it try the wet cat food! Maybe it’ll get closer to me!
I sped towards the sofa and picked up the packet of wet cat food, purposely waving it before its nose.
It couldn’t resist the offered temptation after all. Its soft fluffy paws batted at my wrist as it opened its mouth and cried its pleas.
MC: Okay, okay. Any more and you’ll end up a piggy.
I recalled something after putting away the remaining food. I picked up the photo frame that I’d set down earlier and handed it to Osborn.
MC: Oh, yeah. By the way, this was the photo frame that Mitt was batting with under the TV cabinet earlier. I don’t know where you normally display it.
He took the photo frame from me and glanced at it.
MC: And on that note, I realized that the car in the background looks very similar to the model we just pieced back together. Are they the same?
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Osborn: Oh. The model was made according to this race car.
Suddenly, I recalled having seen the highlights of all his races before.
The year and month in which he’d won his first racing championship seemingly coincided with the time that this photo was taken.
My guess had tumbled out of my lips before I could stop it.
MC: Is this the car you drove when you won your first championship?
He quirked a brow.
Osborn: Why, you know me so well.
MC: Then… Is that car model something of a memento from that race?
Osborn: You can say that.
MC: I heard somewhere before that that car’s engine had to be changed out every two races. It shouldn’t be in use anymore, right?
Osborn: The engine exploded on me during that race, so it was only my companion once.
Osborn spoke lightly of it, but thinking of how exciting and terrifying it must have been back then, I couldn’t help but feel my heart sink a little.
MC: I’m glad the car model’s alright. Otherwise, it’d be such a pity for such a meaningful memento to get damaged like that.
Osborn: So I should thank you properly. Is that it?
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MC: Huh? Thank me?
He chuckled lightly, his eyes sliding from the photo to my face. He had a slightly flippant look on his face.
Osborn: Weren’t you the one who made that car model more meaningful?
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MC: ……
I was taken aback for a bit. I looked at him in surprise, only to find his gaze calm and gentle. There was a smile glimmering within his eyes.
Osborn: You were pretty clever when fixing the model. Why so stupefied now?
As his words sank in, I felt my heart flutter as I realized what he’d meant by having made it more “meaningful”. Something seemed to have filled my heart. It was a little flustering, yet also a little sweet.
I worried my lip and gathered my courage together before looking up to meet his eyes.
MC: Then, that makes me happier now…
MC: Although I didn’t get the chance to sit in on the race of your first championship and cheer you on…
MC: I was still able to piece the model back together and play a part in that precious moment of memory.
Inexplicable emotions surfaced in Osborn’s eyes, and in the next second, his big hand ruffled my hair with a vengeance.
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Osborn: There’s really no helping you, is there?
I shyly ducked my head, but I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from rising.
At this moment, the sun had enveloped us both within its warmth.
The cat quietly ate by our feet, letting out a purr of satisfaction every once in a while.
Slowly but surely, unspeakable feelings started to bloom and spread within the confines of my heart.
I hope, from the deepest points of my heart, that time would always be eternally frozen in this beautiful moment.
⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹
✥ Choose your Ending:
END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]
END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹
END 5 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR
END 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★
❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖
Previous Part: (Prologue)
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mingying · 4 years ago
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[spoilers] hospital playlist s2 ep 11; ikjun/songhwa
I can’t believe this finally happened. And it happened in arguably the best ways possible for us IkSong shippers. As usual, this post is just basically my own thoughts and opinion of the episode and my interpretation of things - feel free to disagree, and I hope you enjoy reading this musing of mine!
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22 years later, finally they found each other again <3
TL;DR: Everything happens for a reason and we have finally reached the rainbow end <3
Let’s begin by addressing the ER scene, but before that, I would like to point out that since Ep 10, Songhwa has been shown to be somewhat forgetful and a klutz - in Ep 10, she was searching for her socks and insisted that she wore them for her rounds. She also seemed to have forgotten to take off her surgical cap until Seonbin pointed it out to her.
In Ep 11, the episode starts off with Songhwa leaving her handbag in Ikjun’s office, and subsequently her handphone, followed by her handbag in the car again. This is not a dementia arc, guys (haha) but I genuinely think that this is her mind being occupied by her newly realised feelings for Ikjun that her normally composed self had started to crumble (and that’s entirely ok!). Another interpretation of this scene could be that unintentionally and subconsciously, she just wanted to remain in the hospital knowing Ikjun may return to collect his gift later.
Can I also point out her sixth sense in this scene? When she peered out of her window and heard the sound of ambulance, followed immediately by Dr Bong calling, she looked disturbed. Normally, she would have answered her calls immediately without hesitation but this time you could tell that she frowned and waited for maybe 2 seconds before answering Dr Bong. Well, never messed with a woman’s intuition I guess!
The ER Scene. Gosh. I actually have a lot of things to say about this. I know some people do not like this trope and that it is a typical trigger for characters to realise their feelings. But, I’d have to say that ShinLee did not intend for this scene to be a trigger of Songhwa realising that she likes Ikjun.
Because she already knows and had realised, somewhere around Ep 8-9 but more obviously 9, that she does like him as a man (all over again). If anything, this ER scene was meant to give Songhwa that one last push to confess, otherwise she may end up regretting not to. Another reason why I felt this scene was necessary was that Songhwa has been too comfortable in Ikjun’s constant presence by her side -- perhaps she has been wanting to confess but still lack the courage to and she didn’t think she needed to act on it rightaway because Ikjun would always be there by her side.
Gosh, the way she rushed to Ikjun and didn’t even hear Dr Bong trying to report to her that he actually wasn’t in such a terrible state. The way she slipped her hand in his and was so gentle in her questions - you can really just tell that she was trying her best not to crumble.
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(side note: Jeon Mido, your acting was truly stellar during this scene. That suppressed professionalism vs personal feelings. I really felt her worry and regret in this entire scene. I loved it so much)
Now, why do I firmly believe that Songhwa already intends to confess to Ikjun eventually? Other than the fact that Songhwa herself confirmed during her confession that “I should have told you that I liked you”, it’s because of the Gift that she has given him for his birthday. It’s a cap, and initially we don’t think much of it until the flashback sequence showed and we realised that, a cap was what 99z Songhwa wanted to give to Ikjun but never did because he had turned her down for dinner and lied that he has a blind date.
Present day Songhwa gifting Ikjun a cap can be interpreted as her having let go of the hurt he had caused her in the past and that she was willing to try, again.
Interestingly, I’d like to also point out that the 99z flashback in this episode was truly necessary for us to understand Songhwa’s aversion to ‘Sad Sea’ and why she has rejected Ikjun in the first episode. 99z Songhwa didn’t give up when Ikjun stood her up for her birthday but mustered the courage to confess to him - she tried twice too, asking if he really has to go on that blind date that evening and couldn’t he go another time? Ikjun, in that scene, was playing Sad Sea. 
I would like to apologise to Ep 7 Songhwa because I had been frustrated with her then, but now that everything has been rolled out beautifully, I do not blame her at all for her hesitancy and year long passiveness. Ikjun kinda deserved it after breaking her heart twice (HA!) and remember this shot of Ikjun in Ep 7? 
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I now interpret this scene as him realising that he knew Songhwa’s reasons of rejecting him. Because there was no way he didn’t know that Songhwa had liked him in the 99z, and he was perhaps regretting turning her down for dinner that day during his birthday. He knew he had a chance with her then but blew it, and that is perhaps why he never faltered in making Songhwa happy now. Not that he expects anything in return, but perhaps he wanted to make up for the indirect hurt he had caused her.
Bab Meokja had been something initiated by Songhwa back then. And now, it is a treat he gives himself -- I really do think that is the reason why he keeps asking Songhwa out for meals in the present time, because Ikjun probably wanted to indrectly make up for what happened in 99z.
Let’s move on to another great scene! The card game scene!
For some, it may seem to be a random scene but for me, I saw it in a different way and I’m glad Kfans and some users on Twitter pointed out this theory as well. 
As you all know, the card game IkSong was playing was “Bluff/Cheat”. Here, you could see that Ikjun could read Songhwa so well that he knows when she would lie. But Songhwa on the other hand, could not read Ikjun as well -- and this is further affirmed by Songhwa’s confession when she said “If your feelings for me haven’t changed,”. This is beautiful because it makes Ikjun’s expression during the confession scene even more sense -- a user on reddit pointed out that his expression at that time wasn’t more of a “omg she likes me after all”, it was more of a “she has realised her feelings for me,” and I think that’s absolutely beautiful. He even nodded subtlely a few times as Songhwa struggled to get her confession out, as if encouraging her and saying “you can do it, just a bit more”. 
Back to the card game - Ikjun even threw down a 9 Hearts - which I believe is a metaphor of his feelings for her, steady and still unwavering. 
(Bonus note: I absolutely love how Iksun caught on to them being lovey dovey at once and Junwan’s expression catching them was HILARIOUS)
On to my next scene which was absolute favourite.
Songhwa had finished a difficult/challenging surgery, and out of excitement (she even skipped omg whipped girlie), she called Ikjun first to convey the good news to him. Her tone here really depicts a difference in how she talks to Ikjun before. This scene alone tells you that Songhwa has pretty much fallen for Ikjun again and I love love love that finally she has someone she would want to immediately call to share her good news with! 
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And the best part? Our best boy Lee Ikjun never went to Changwon. Instead, he waited for her for probably hours (it was bright day when they said goodbye, but night when Songhwa returned to her office) and even told her straight that he has to see her before he leaves because of how worried she had been before. Good lord find me a man like Ikjun please? 
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image cr: iksongarchives @ twitter
This entire shot, with I Knew I Love playing in the background pretty much hits. It is in this exact moment that Songhwa has probably made up her mind to confess for real, that she wasn’t going to waste another second because I am sooo sure she would have ran to hug him if not because of their status at that moment. I love this scene so much. It is the personification of the lyrics of I Knew I Love, which goes “I called you out of habit today and you answered warmly, you make me the happiest in the whole wide world, I love you so much”.
And finally. 
Finally.
*takes a deep breath*
SONGHWA CONFESSED!!!!!!!!
AND THEY KISSED!!!! UNDER THE RAIN!!! 
The whole directing of this scene, with the slow camera panning into them - Ikjun was restless, probably breaking into cold sweats (he commented it was cold) while Songhwa was nervous and trying to muster enough courage to confess (she commented it was really hot). I held my breath for so long I felt like I was about to faint I swear to god.
Songhwa looked legit terrified that Ikjun was going to reject her man, and it all makes sense why after we got the 99z flashback this episode. 
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And Ikjun, he really waited for her cues. Even after she was done confessing, he looked at her and waited for her to look at him back before he went “I’ll give you my answer”. And it was only after Songhwa nodded in fear and anticipation, that he swooped in to kiss her!!!!!
Songhwa definitely also leaned in first before Ikjun pulled her closer. She wanted this just as much as he did and it showed through their first kiss. Gosh I’m still shaking just thinking about how perfect that entire sequence and kiss was. They really went all out for it (yes I believe there was tongue involved) rather than soft and gentle. 22 years of suppressed yearning and feelings really popped out in that kiss alone and I am so blessed to have been a part of their beautiful journey.
And now, with only one episode left, we are finally able to see IkSong as a couple and on dates. I have a feeling Songhwa would be the clingy gf man, judging from the Preview keke. I cannot wait to see the rest of the boys finding out, and for sure, I cannot wait to see how their dynamics would change now as lovers rather than just best friends. I do think their transition would be seamless, only that now, they get to do what other lovers could.
This post is so long but I felt the need to address another matter that I have seen roaming around the internet. Apparently, some people are annoyed that Songhwa was ‘forced to change her mind’ and that we cannot accept her ‘No’ in ep 1. I would humbly and respectfully disagree on this point. Songhwa’s ‘No’ in ep 1 was not a “I don’t like you therefore I am rejecting you”. It was more of a “I do not know how to sort out my feelings yet, and am not ready to revisit the past, so it is best not to tamper with it”. 
Songhwa did not change her mind overnight or weeks. It took her one year and a few months. She has had all that time to weighs her decisions again and properly thought out how she wanted to bring forward her relationship with Ikjun. She was not forced.
She may have said that she liked being single in S1, but she has never been averse to love. In fact, she is always encouraging other people to go for it. I for one, am single and absolutely enjoying it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to ever change my mind if I find someone worthy enough to share my space and happiness with. I like being single now because guys around me are idiots and I’d rather save myself that headache LOL.
Her conscious decision to accept Ikjun now does not and will never invalidate her decision to reject him back then - in fact, it goes to show that as human beings, we constantly undergo character growth and our minds are often changed to suit the present circumstances. 
ShinLee did not portray Songhwa in that light where ‘women needs to say yes if a guy treats her right’. Ikjun did all of those things for her without expecting anything in return. He never once crossed the line and never once forced Songhwa into accepting his love for her. Songhwa said yes because she likes Ikjun and is now ready to move their relationship to that of romantic. It is as simple as that.
And one last point to make is that Songhwa being in a relationship does not in any way invalidate that she is a strong and independent woman. Please do not associate the relationship status of a woman to her being ‘strong/independent’. A woman in a relationship and a woman not being a relationship are still BOTH strong AND independent. Love is a universal element in life, why deprive a person of it simply because she’s portrayed to be a “strong” female character? If that love brings her greater joy and ardent happiness, why stop her from enriching her life further?
Anyway. I digress. 
If you made it until the end of this ridiculously long post, thank you. I hope it was an enjoyable read! Till Ep 12!
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displacedentities · 4 years ago
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Night Out
My quickfic for @doodledrawsthings​ Coffee Shop AU! In truth I had this in the books for months and just never got around to finish it ;u; Unfortunately only the muse can decide when it’s time to slap me with enough serotonin to work on this, so I rode the high from recent art and wrapped it up! It’s not as clean as I wanted, but you know what, have it anyway.
-Myst -----
Finally. Another shift in the books.
With a heavy sigh, Luka stretches his back as the clock chimes up on the wall over the glass doors. Deft fingers untie the back before he slips the fabric apron over his head. A light snap of magnets punctuates the white noise of steaming coffee machines, and Luka stuffs his nametag into his pants pocket.
Luka was embarrassed to think about how much of a struggle it was to steady on for the entirety of the workday. Stress ate at him all the time, over so many things. Harriet was priority number one - did he remember to prep her meals for the day? Was she still ok, back in the apartment? Was Professor Popcorn in need of more repairs? Luka would happily handle such a task, of course, but...
He wasn't guaranteed to have thumbs when the evening finally came. There was his time limit to think about.
"Hey Luka?"
Damn, but being cursed was such a pain. Chopping vegetables was a particular bane of his existence. How could he trust himself with a knife like that? Ugh. He hated to make Harriet do it - no child should be wielding a knife before the age of 13, for any reason. He'd just have to MacGyver a solution or something.
"Luka..."
And on top of that, he had the upcoming bills to fret over. Rent was due in a few days, and he'd made a decent amount in tips, but they could not afford to have their upstairs neighbor burst a pipe again. He and Harriet had spent the entire afternoon toweling up their poor carpets to avoid getting mildew. Or worse, bugs. Luka was a fan of bugs, but not in his carpets, or sneaking into the mattress where they could bite his daughter.
"HEY!"
This time, the voice manages to pierce the haze of worry writhing in Luka's brain. Jolting to attention, the auburn-haired adult turns around, blinking owlishly at his colleague, Clover.
The braided redhead is giving him a wan smile, her brows furrowed in worry as she sets down a large bag of coffee beans under the counter.
"You spaced out again, buddy. Did you hear a word I said?" the barista asks, folding her arms over her stained apron.
"Uhh... you said my name," Luka replied, feeling a bit awkward as he chuckles once. "Sorry, I probably missed anything you might have asked me."
"I was asking if you ever go out."
"Ah- what?"
That was unexpected. Go out?
"You know-" Clover holds up her hands to gesture to the world in general, and beyond the coffee shop doors "-out! Like, with friends or anybody?"
Ah.
Luka laughs once, rubbing a hand on one side of his face.
"You mean since I moved into town? Nah, not really. Me and my daughter have only been here a few months - can't say we made many friends just yet."
Nor was that a risk they could take. Who knows how long they could stay here, before he was inevitably found out? One could argue it was a risk just- doing what he was doing now. Trying to hold a job, staying in an apartment; a semi-permanent living situation. They'd been on the road so long, old habits were quite hard to break. And if he was entirely honest with himself, Luka didn't know yet if he felt safe, even six months past the first day he arrived in the rural town of Subcon.
Clover's frown deepens, her arms dropping back to her sides. Her dropped guard betrays her worry, before she tries to play it off with another lighthearted smile and upbeat words.
"Oh come on, it can't have been that long since you've just done something fun for the sake of it. When was the last time you went out with friends and enjoyed yourself?" she asks.
"Why is this important?" Luka asks, his own guard slowly rising. He didn't quite see where she was going with this, but he wasn't sure he'd like it.
Oops- maybe not the most polite way to phrase that, as he sees an awkward flinch on Clover's face. Quick, recover! Luka chuckles once, also trying to lighten the mood.
"You and MJ never really asked me that kind of stuff before. I thought I was hired to serve coffee, not tea."
"We serve both, ya doofus," Clover smirks, rubbing one of her well-muscled arms with the other in a self-conscious gesture. "You should know that, since you've been working here almost four months now. And uh- well, MJ just kind of noticed you always seem very tired whenever you leave work."
Luka smiles back, but it's forced. Careful. Don't give any hints that it's anything serious. Don't be suspicious.
"Oh, that? I uh- I'm not used to the retail scene. I'll probably adapt to it soon."
Clover doesn't seem convinced. Still, her expression is sympathetic, rather than judgmental or suspicious. She leans her back on the counter, looking over Luka's exhausted demeanor and baggy eyes with a skeptical smile.
"I'm sure you will." She rests her hands on the counter. "In the meantime, you should go out for bowling with me and MJ! We were planning this outing for about a week, and maybe you'd wanna come with?"
Luka stops mid-folding of his apron. He turns toward Clover with surprise.
"Bowling? As in- knocking over pins in an alley, bowling?"
Clover rolls her eyes, amused. "No, as in rolling cereal bowls. Yes, that kind of bowling, Luka. It'll be fun! Eat some cheap pizza, knock over pins, watch the uncanny valley animations on the TV screen, the whole shebang. You up for joining us?"
"I uh- I didn't know there was a bowling alley here?" Luka says, his voice pitching up as he gives a sheepish laugh. "I- I don't know..."
Shit.
He could already feel the first touches of his curse starting to well up. A quick glance to his hands- okay, no purple yet. But it was coming.
Luka tucks his hands behind his back just in case.
"I'm not sure, I have Harriet to worry about..." he fumbles, rushing to think of excuses. It hurts his heart a little when he sees the disappointed expression Clover wears.
"Are you sure?" she asks, her tone gentle. "It'll only be a for a couple of hours - I could ask Cookie next door if she'd be willing to handle your daughter for the night. She's a fantastic sitter, and your daughter would have Mu to play with."
Luka opened his mouth, preparing to turn it down- then closed it again, brows furrowed as he chews over the thought.
Only a few hours... hm. His curse's current time limit was somewhere a little short of eight hours, he was sure. As long as he didn't have to pick up a shift at work, he would have most of his day free to spend out of the motel. An outing to a bowling alley couldn't possibly last eight hours, though he'd... never actually gone bowling before.
"I.... don't know... I've never been bowling, I'll just hold you back-"
"Nonsense," Clover says, waving off his excuse immediately. "MJ and I aren't professionals or anything, Luka - it's just for fun! You've never been?? That means you've gotta try it, at least once. Please?"
...mmh. Luka would be lying if he said he wasn't very tempted. But he had so much to worry about! His daughter, his curse... keeping his job, being able to support the two of them. Not to mention, getting used to his slow camaraderie with Clover and MJ. That sort of outing would throw their friendship into first gear.
"It's ok," Clover interrupts his thoughts, standing back up straight as she grabs a rag and finishes wiping down the counter. "You don't have to come, we just thought... you know, it might be fun. You look like you need some serious time to unwind, dude. All we ever see of you is showing up to work, dealing with customers, then you leave. And hey, if you change your mind, the offer's still open."
Luka curls his fingers, foot tapping the floor in small fidget.
"Well, I'm gonna start closing up the back," Clover says, tossing the rag into a laundry bin next to the employee break room. "I'll see you tomorrow!"
"Wait!"
Clover stops, turning around with the laundry basket.
"What day were you planning to do it?"
What am I thinking?? I can't go on an outing with them!
Unaware of Luka's silent stresses, Clover beams, her smile lighting up once again.
"Saturday! Would that work for you?"
"Mnhg- maybe?" Luka concedes, forcing his own sheepish smile despite his brain screaming No nO this is a bad idea! His mouth continues to run away from him. "Saturday is my errand day - me and Harriet go out for groceries in the morning, and eat out at whatever lunch restaurant she picks. I wouldn't be open until the evening, and Sunday's game day for me and my daughter."
Bad idea, what are you doing?!
"That's perfect!" Clover says, delighted and still not privy to Luka's inner struggle. "If we close the shop at five, we can drive to the bowling alley around 5:30, play a game or two and eat. Should go until about... eight-ish? How's that sound?"
Say no, say NO!
"Sure, sounds fun."
AGH!
"Great!" Clover says, a skip in her step as she lopes off to the back room with the laundry basket. "I'll text MJ to let him know - he's already gone back to his apartment."
"Yeah, I'll uh- I'll text him too," Luka chuckles, scratching behind his head with one hand- and immediately putting a stop to that action, as he feels the points of sharp claws dig at his scalp. Both arms are dropped and tucked behind his back, a big smile on his face. "Gotta give him the full details and everything, haha..."
"No problem- see you!" Clover bids Luka goodbye, waving one hand as she cheerily hauls the laundry bin off into the back.
"Bye!" Luka says, his voice cracking from nerves.
Oh thank god she's gone.
Luka pulls his hands back out into view, and sees the telltale purple staining begin to creep up his flesh. Peck. It was already starting- Clover left just in time. He could already feel the sharp ends of his canines starting to poke into his bottom lip. He didn't have much left of the day in human form- he had to get home right now.
Snatching up his belongings from his locker, stuffing his work apron inside, Luka loops his bag over his shoulder and leaps over the service counter. He missed the rack of sugar packets this time, thankfully, his sneakers squeaking on the tile floor as he bolts out the door. The bell rings as the glass entryway opens and shuts, signaling his departure. Car keys are whipped out of his bag, a slowly deforming finger just managing to push the button to unlock the vehicle as he clambers inside. Just five minutes- he could make five minutes.
The engine of the car roars to life, and Luka zips off out of the employee parking space, trying his best to ignore it as his fingers swell and fuse together, and his eyes reflect golden light in the rear view mirror.
------
MJ's car putters up to outside the bowling alley, fixing his blue-dyed hair with a sigh. Clover, in the passenger seat, drums her hand on the door handle with excitement.
"This is gonna be so much fun," she says, turning to look over her shoulder at the stiff and uncomfortable Luka in the backseat. "I'm so glad you decided to come, Luka- we'll show you the ropes of bowling!"
"Great," the young man says, putting up another shaky smile as his fingers tense around his kneecaps. "Can't wait!"
"That's the spirit," MJ speaks up, giving Luka a quick smile of his own before twisting the key in the ignition. The car's engine dies down, the doors unlocking as MJ shifts the gear into park. "Clover told me you were nervous about hanging out, and that's completely fine by me - if you feel uncomfortable and don't want to stay, just let us know, ok? We'll drive you back to the apartment building, no hesitation."
Luka inhaled deeply, letting out a heavy sigh from the back seat of the car. It felt like his nerves were trying to shake him apart. A glance at his watch-
Was he really going forward with this?
...Yes. He was. As much as Luka worried, Clover had been right. It'd been far too long since he'd taken 'me' time.
Luka puts a hand on the door and pulls the handle, stepping out of the car before he has a chance to psyche himself out.
It's just a couple hours. He still had plenty of time, after his midday outings with Harriet.
Stay calm. You can do this.
The sign above the brick building shines with neon lights, saying 'Pins & Cushions' in bright blue and red. The backdrop is a painting that Luka can swear was painted in the 80s, displaying a bowling ball as it barrels into pins and knocking them askew with a cartoony impact mark.
"Pins & Cushions?" he says aloud, smirking a little bit.
"Kind of silly, right?" MJ speaks up, locking the car behind him with a click. "Sounds more like a sewing parlor than a bowling alley."
"It's because they boasted having cushioned chairs," Clover says, snickering. "You've never been, but most bowling alleys have these awful plastic chairs that hurt to sit on for too long."
"You mean like the chairs in high school?"
Luka's joke earns a quick bark of a laugh from Clover.
"Couched seating areas in a bowling alley was, sadly, a craze that never caught on," MJ says, ascending the concrete steps up to the building. "But this one did, and the place is like forty years old and too stubborn to change, so your butt will thank you later."
When the doors open, Luka is immediately washed with a cocktail of smells he didn't think could- nor should- ever go together. First and foremost is the thick smell of plastic and rubber, followed by the chemical odor of cleaning sprays, and the sizzling smell of burning cheese. Air conditioning blasts them from above as the three young adults enter the bowling alley, the doors sliding shut behind their backs. The sounds hit next - a cacophonous mix of rubber soles squeaking on polished floors, heavy objects falling and rolling, and the clatter of pins falling into the trap at the far end of the establishment.
It was loud, smelled strange, and the carpet looked lifted straight out of an arcade.
Luka was torn between anxiety, and a strange sort of excitement he hadn't felt in a long, long time. This was something new, something unfamiliar- he had hours to enjoy himself, and spend time not worrying about stresses of life. Harriet had a sitter, paid in advance with an alarm for when he would return, and he was out with- friends? Had him accepting this invitation solidified their friendship at this point? ...the thought made a happy butterfly flutter in his stomach.
This would be a great evening, he could feel it.
"Earth to Luka." MJ's amused tone causes Luka to jump. "Something on your mind? You're smiling."
"Oh- uh- nothing," Luka says, scratching behind his head sheepishly. "Just- thanks. For inviting me. I think I really did need this a lot."
"YEAH you do!" Clover thumps him on the back with one hand. "Come on! You have to give your shoes to the clerk so they can give you your bowling shoes."
"Ah, what? I have to take off my shoes on this carpet?" Luka complains, lifting a foot with distaste. "I feel like I'm stepping on twenty-year-old candy."
"It's part of the charm!" Clover sings, already removing one of her sneakers. "It's either this, or slip all over the place on the actual alley floor. You're getting the full bowling experience whether you like it or not, coffee boy."
"Ex-CUSE me!" Luka says with a dramatic gasp, hopping on one foot as he works to remove his own shoes. "I think you will find I'm a coffee man, thank you."
"Coffee twink," Clover counters.
"No, that's MJ."
"HEY! I will call lion's share of the tips for that one," MJ shakes a sneaker at them both in a mock scolding gesture.
"YOU'RE BOTH COFFEE TWINKS," Clover declares to the entire establishment as she fights off her last sneaker, racing for the counter before the others can catch up. "HURRY UP, COFFEE TWINKS, WE NEED TO PICK OUT BOWLING BALLS."
"I have dibs on the galaxy patterned one!" MJ yells after Clover.
Clover gives MJ an evil grin as she takes her bowling shoes and pays the rental fee, tying them before sauntering over to the racks of bowling balls. Her hand hovers over the selection, giving a teasing pause over the bowling ball made with swirled star plastic.
"Don't you dare," MJ hisses from the counter, pointing an accusing finger at Clover as he hands over the money for both his and Luka's rental shoes.
"It's either the tips share, or the bowling ball! You decide!" Clover yells back, drumming her fingers on the coveted starry bowling ball.
"Fiiiiine," MJ says with a dramatic tone, though his smile gives away his mirth. "You know I wasn't going to take the tips anyway, Clo."
"I know~" she says, giggling while she moves on to a different rack of bowling balls. "And you know I wouldn't do that to your poor weak arms, either, Moonie."
Luka finishes tying his rental shoes, thanking MJ before he makes his way down the small stairway to the alleys. It's very bright in this section of the building, with cushioned couches surrounding tables and standing consoles. Metal railings and a chute of some kind were positioned at each alleyway, some with bowling balls sitting idle atop the metal racks.
"So, what now?" Luka asks, the excitement of wading into unknown waters welling in his chest again.
"Pick a bowling ball!" Clover says, gesturing to the racks of heavy plastic spheres. "You'll want a heavy one, but not too heavy for you to lift and throw."
"Go easy on us, Clover." MJ shakes his head as he picks up his favorite starry ball. "Ms. Gun Show and her fourteen-pound bowling ball."
The redhead leans over and scoops up a swirled green bowling ball, hefting it on one arm and pumping it like a weight.
"You might get some guns yourself if you helped me landscape and move sod around my garden, Coffee Twink #1," she says, flexing a bicep.
"I refuse to acknowledge that nickname."
"Sorry, it's our team name now," Clover laughs, "the Coffee Twinks!"
"Hey, I thought our team name was the Comets?!"
"That was before Luka joined the team - now it's a 2-to-1 twink majority, I don't make the rules."
Luka just has his face in his hands, laughing through the whole exchange as he leans on the metal racks.
"You're just as bad as Harriet!" Luka laughs, pushing his hair back out of his eyes with one hand. "I don't even know where she learned that word - Cookie's daughter, probably?"
"Definitely," MJ says with a thousand yard stare, earning more laughter from Luka. "Go pick a bowling ball, I'll get the console up and running for our game."
Wiping tears from his eyes, chuckling under his breath, Luka turns to the racks and peruses the selection. The bowling balls come in all colors - most are black or dark brown, but there's a rather delightful mix of brighter hues like pink, blue and yellow. Some are marbled, some have glitter in the plastic, and a few very beat-up bowling balls have graphics of cartoon characters that were popular in the 90s. Well-loved by the children who patronize this establishment, he was sure. Harriet would love the Scooby-Doo ball - oh no wait. The one themed after a Pokeball, for sure was her poison of choice. And clearly the pick of the litter for many other children, as it was covered in scratches and dents from decades of use.
Ah- there was one themed after a jack-o-lantern! How fitting. He loops his fingers into the grip holes of the bowling ball, and heaves it off of the rack- only to almost crush his toes as the weight yanks his arms to the floor.
That was- heavier than expected!
"Oooooh, nice pick," Clover says, spinning her own bowling ball in her hands. "You sure you can carry it, though? That's a 10-pounder."
"I'll be fine-" Luka says, grunting as he lifts it back up with both hands this time. "Just- caught me off guard, is all."
"Alright, game's all set," MJ announces from the console.
Above their heads, a large tube television flashes blue before displaying a score board.
A loud k-chunk k-chunk k-chunk of machinery draws Luka's eye toward the other end of the alley. Metal rigging and machinery descend from the covered roof of the pin trap. Resembling a large soda crate, the rig drops an array of ten white bowling pins, before unclamping and ascending back into the darkness of whatever creation of god resided in that ceiling.
"You're up first, Clo," MJ says, waving a hand to indicate she should move forward.
"Watch and learn," Clover throws Luka a smile, the competitive taunt dampened by her genuinely helpful tone. "You want to throw the ball so it rolls like this-"
Stepping forward onto the squeaky, smooth polished wooden platform, Clover lifts her bowling ball to her chest. With a quick inhale, she lopes forward two steps, swinging her arm back with the bowling ball, before reeling it forward on the last stride and underhand throwing it into the aisle. The heavy green bowling ball lands with a tHDD before skidding its way down the oiled track, rolling in a long, smooth line. The swirled green sphere smacks into the bowling pins with a loud tHWAKK!!, sending all but one of the pins flying into the darkness beyond. The ball disappears into the hole, and Clover puts her hands on her hips with a huff.
"Damn, almost got a strike." Clover snaps her fingers, shrugging. The green bowling ball clatters back up the chute. She grips her fingers into the trio of holes again, and goes for another throw.
The bowling ball rolls down the course, straight as an arrow for the last pin. The pin spins off the wooden platform into the darkness, earning a whoop from Clover.
"Nice, got a spare!" Clover declares, throwing her arms up in triumph. She sashays her way back to the couches. "Who's up next?"
"I'm up," MJ says, standing from the console. Looping his fingers into his own starry bowling ball, MJ rolls his shoulders and steps up onto the oiled wooden planks. "I'm going to get the first strike of the day, just wait."
"Sure you will," Clover snickers as MJ winds up.
When he releases the ball, it rolls at very high speed- before curving halfway down the track, the topspin he put on the ball causing it veer off course and land in the gutter.
Face flushed, MJ coughs into his hand, suddenly very invested in fixing his shirt as Clover grins. The galaxy ball returns to the trough, and MJ pointedly picks it up again, winding up for his second throw. The bowling ball rocks down the course, and knocks over about six pins, leaving a corner of the triangle still standing.
"Woo!" Clover cheers, clapping as MJ returns to the seating. She reaches over and nudges Luka on the shoulder. "You're up, Luke! Show us whatchu got!"
Heart in his throat, Luka stands from his seat and steps up.
The bowling ball grins up at him, daring him to chicken out. It was heavy in his hand. Still, he walked up onto the polished floor, feeling the rubber on the bottom of his shoes as it grips the oiled surface.
Fighting the weight of the heavy bowling ball, Luka takes a step forward, swinging his arm back before bringing it back around like a pendulum. The ball hits the track with a heavy thDD as it’s released, sent rolling off down the track. Around the halfway point, it spins off course and lands in the gutter with a clunk.
“Aww,” Clover says, leaning over the chair cushion. “And you had such good posture, too.”
“It’s ok,” MJ speaks up, seeing Luka’s visible embarrassment. “It’s your first time bowling! Nothing to be ashamed of. You have another shot before we rotate players.”
Disappointed, Luka rubs at his arm. Well, that was a less than encouraging performance. But he noticed the angle of the spin on the ball. Maybe he could fix that.
The ball clatters up the chute back into the return trough. Luka picks it up with a huff of breath, holding it to his chest as he does mental calculations. If he turned his wrist at just the right point...
Stepping forward, Luka swings back and releases the ball, putting a top spin on the ball at the last possible moment-
The jack-o-lantern face rockets down the alley, the path straight until the very last second. It curves to hit the front pin from the side, knocking every single pin into the abyss beyond.
"OHHHHH!" Clover and MJ exclaim, clapping with enthusiasm as Luka looks stunned.
"You got a strike!" Clover says, applauding with a big grin. "You were totally pulling our legs about being a newbie to this, huh??"
"I think I just got lucky," Luka tries to play it off, feeling an uncommon shyness as he smiles.
Clover shakes her head, not having it.
"Luck nothing! That was pure talent, and you got a strike, dude!"
"Technically that was a spare, but still a strike in my book," MJ says as he rotates the turn order on the console, giving Luka a smile and a thumbs up.
"Oh let him have it, Moon Moon," Clover laughs as MJ throws her a pout. "Our new boy's got game!"
Luka hunches his shoulders, an awkward smile curling across his cheeks as he walks back over to the couches. Clover jumps to attention and makes her way to the track, picking up her green bowling ball for another round as he sits down.
This was... much more fun than he had expected it to be. The background noise of the bowling alley was surprisingly pleasant. He found he could get used to the dull odor of plastic and cleaner- and honestly, that hot cheese smell from what must be the pizzeria was tempting his stomach. But best of all was the camaraderie he could feel sparking between him, Clover, and MJ. Were they officially friends now? Or had they been already, and he was just- in denial? If Luka was entirely honest with himself, probably the latter. MJ and Clover had been nothing but kind and understanding, to him. His sporadic hours and excuses had done nothing to faze them with regards to their treatment of him at work. They still offered him drinks and invited him on this outing, offering even to pay for his expenses, didn't they?
"Hey Luka!" A call from MJ breaks him out of the small reverie. "You're up, again."
"And after this round, we can hit the arcade! I bet I can out-dance you on DDR, Coffee Twinks," Clover smirks.
"No betting. I know you can."
Maybe- maybe he had nothing to worry about.
---
The evening is going fantastic.
The first bowling game had been a pretty close match between Luka and Clover. Clover had the arm strength to pull off some mean and fast throws, but Luka had developed a system. Figuring out how to spin the bowling ball just the right amount had made up for his noodle arms and less weighty bowling ball. It wasn't long before he figured out how to roll a pretty straight record of spares and strikes, with the occasional 7-10 split. After bowling around, they went into the arcade section, with an entire paper roll of quarters to blow on games. A vicious Ms. Pacman multiplayer match had led to MJ smoking all three of them, and as predicted, Clover out-danced both of the boys on the DDR and Stepmania machines. Luka had to collapse over a nearby chair with exhaustion after his matches. He'd finished off the arcade run with a very lucky pull from a claw machine, winning a black cat plush with big yellow eyes that he was definitely going to enjoy giving to Harriet.
The three of them sat around their table at the bowling console again, laughing over a hot cheese and pepperoni pizza.
"No way, you didn't!" Luka gasps, wheezing for air.
"I did! I punched his goddamn lights out!" Clover laughs, slapping one knee. "The guy was being a huge creep, so I introduced him to my fist."
"I hope you didn't get in trouble with the cops or something for that." Luka tilts his head, giving her an impressed and worried look.
"Can't get in trouble if nobody reports it," MJ chimes in, smirking past his soda cup. "He complained to me, but I had the security tapes AND plausible deniability because I wasn't on the floor. Corporate took our side on this."
"Nobody from the city wants to drive all the way out to podunk Subcon for a random dudebro's complaint." Clover sits back on her cushioned seat, chomping into her pizza happily. "Mmmmm- delicious melty cheese."
Luka chomps into his own pizza, exhaling and blowing on it as it nearly burns his mouth.
"Easy, tiger!" MJ smirks around his own mouthful of pizza.
"I know, it's just so good," Luka says, laughing into his hand as he sips some of his cola. "But in like- the way you know it's not that great? Does that make sense?"
"Night in the Woods taught me the Pizza Scale, and I stick by that," Clover says, crunching through her crust to grab up another slice, washing down the bread with some soda. When she reaches for another piece of the pie, she pauses, and lets out a huff. "Oh, that sucks. I guess they didn't clean the bowling balls that well this time. Gross."
"Hm?" Luka says through a mouthful of pizza.
"Your fingers are all oil-stained from the finger holes on the bowling ball, Luka. Big Al needs to wash the bowling balls properly."
Confused, the law student shifts his attention down.
The ends of his fingertips are discolored with ebony purple.
Luka can feel as his brain zeroes in on the first sign of his impending transformation, and begins to shift into emergency mode as it relays the steps he must take in order to avoid further exposure. He'd gone over this information with himself many times over the past five years. It was ingrained in his mind, what he had to do, the information practically screaming at him. But he can't hear it. His ears are filled with buzzing as reality breaks into the facade he'd slowly built up over the course of hours.
No-
No no no-
His pizza slice drops to the paper plate as he fumbles with his bag, pulling out the cell phone from the liner pocket. Shaking fingers tap the screen with frantic speed, trying to turn the damn thing on-
9:17?
They'd been here nearly four hours?!
He'd spent the morning out with Harriet, doing their grocery shopping and walking around the town's outdoor mall as much needed father-daughter time. Eight hours of being in disguise had long since passed.
His time limit was up.
This couldn't be happening. Yet the numbers stare back at him from the glare of his cell phone screen. They even have the nerve to tick over to 9:18 right before his eyes.
This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening! It wasn't fair!
"Luka, you ok? You're turning pale..."
Clover's question just barely manages to pierce the haze, causing Luka to jolt in his seat. Posture stiff and breath shallow, he lifts his head to meet Clover's questioning eyes. She's staring at him with building concern, her smile becoming a frown of worry.
The tension is palpable in the air as Luka struggles to find words. Finally, he manages to say something.
"It's- it's a quarter past nine-"
"Oh shoot-" Clover says, sitting up abruptly as she grabs her own phone.
MJ checks his watch, wincing. "Oof. Sorry, Luka. I guess we lost track of time passing. I'll apologize to Cookie for the overtime, we can finish this round and go-"
"Don't feel good- going to the bathroom-" Luka wheezes, scrambling to his feet as he scoops all of his belongings into his bag and races past MJ's seat.
"Luka!" Clover yells after him, her heightened concern audible in her voice. "Ok, we'll- we'll start cleaning up! Let us know if you need-!"
Her words are cut off by the slam of the bathroom door. Luka's bowling shoes slip over the slick tile floor, his hands gripping onto the cold porcelain of the bathroom sink to steady himself. He brings his shaking hands up to view in the mirror. The blackening purple skin was spreading up his finger joints, reaching his palms.
No- not now! Why now?
Luka clenches his fists and his jaw, focusing every ounce of his will on making the purple go away. He can almost feel a vein pop on his forehead- if he still had veins, anymore- as he strains to make his unwilling body follow his desires. The purple starts to recede at a caterpillar crawl... but it slows. And the harder he tries, the more he can feel his arms struggle to hold their shape - becoming less solid.
"No- no!" he whimpers, clenching his hands into the sink again. The action splatters small droplets of purple sludge against the porcelain, which vanish moments later as the purple staining once more consumes his fingers - and now his palms. "Stop it! Just- let me be human! Please!"
He lifts his head to the mirror. Despair fills his gut as he sees amber eyes staring back at him in the reflection, and the beginnings of an inner glow fighting to come out from the back of his throat.
Luka lets out a wordless sound of sorrow, lifting an arm to pound one fist against the mirror in vain. The reflection is unfazed in its destitution, tears beginning to gather at the edges of its eyes and mouth set into a sob of clenched teeth. The reflection's canine's lengthen several inches as the eyes stare back, accusingly. The purple was starting to spread up its neck, just poking out the collar of the shirt.
"No..."
This wasn't him. But it had been, years ago. This was SUPPOSED to be him.
He curls his fist, watching as the fingers start losing their shape. Fusing together, becoming single digits and his thumbs vanish back into the purple sludge of the limb.
"I was finally-..." Luka whimpers, "...I finally felt human again."
-bang bang bang-
The sound of a fist knocking on the bathroom door causes Luka to yelp and jump back from the mirror.
"Luka? You ok in there?"
It was MJ.
Peck!
Grabbing his bag, Luka books it into the furthest stall of the bathroom. He slams the metal door behind him, fumbling to lock it with his swelling mitten fingers. Alarm shot through his gut as his shirt felt tight around his torso. Already?? This was faster than usual! Had he really pushed it that much?
"Hey man, are you sick? Clover and I are really concerned. Do you need any help in there?"
"NO! NO I'M GOOD!" Luka yells from the bathroom stall, clapping a two-fingered hand over his mouth as he hears the slight reverb echo to his own voice. Dammit! "I'M JUST- I'LL BE FINE!"
He was not fine, he would most certainly not be fine!
"Luka, you sound croaky." It was Clover this time, probably a short distance behind MJ. "Dude, are you sure? MJ, maybe you should go in and check on him-"
"NO!"
No, the reverb was stronger!
"Luka, I'm coming in."
"MJ it's fine!"
Luka could hear the seams of his shirt starting to stretch and strain. The seconds were ticking by as strings started to pop at the neck.
Shit, shit!
Luka turned left and right, the stall cramped and uncomfortable as the ruff of fur around his neck thickens and threatens to burst his shirt open. He needed a way out!
Aha! A small window, to the outside! Wow, that was probably the worst location for a window. And it was so small-
The door creaked as MJ started to turn the handle.
NO TIME!
Luka makes a dive for the window. His fingers catch on the sill, and he hauls his body up onto the tiny ledge, his head pushing up the glass and emerging out into the open air. Squeezing through the narrow space, he struggles to pull his feet through, kicking off the bowling shoes and hearing them clatter to the tiles below.
The door comes unlatched, and MJ enters the bathroom, looking around with a frown.
Luka was gone. And for some reason, his bowling shoes were abandoned on the questionably cleaned bathroom floor.
Just outside the window, tucked next to the wall of the alleyway outside the bowling alley, Luka is panting with adrenaline. He can feel his chest expand further with each breath, the fur mane around his neck already splitting apart his shirt. His fingers had fully lost their human shape by now, coalescing back into the familiar mitts he hated so much. A reminder that, no, he wasn't human. No matter what those people in the bowling alley thought of him, and what he thought of them in return... no matter how much he wanted to be human, again.
"Luka?"
His entire torso now fully drenched in purple, Luka hangs his head, listening as he fights to strip off the shirt suffocating him.
Footsteps, in the bathroom.
"...Luka? What the-... Clover, he's not here?"
"What?? But he- went into the bathroom! He was just-!"
"His shoes are here..."
"His shoes??"
Luka forces himself to stand, wobbling a bit further away from the window as he focuses all of his efforts on keeping his legs. He can't lose his ability to walk, not in the middle of town!
God dammit... god dammit! Why couldn't he just enjoy his night? Now he was wandering alleyways, half transformed, and MJ and Clover were no doubt worried to hell and back. What could he even say? 'Sorry, had to take a break to wolf out in the bathroom'?
-brrring brrring-
The buzz of the phone in his pants pocket- which was getting tight against his waist, he noticed. Luka quickly extracts the phone before it can be damaged by the fabric.
MJ's caller ID stares back at him from the screen.
The decision to trust these two with his information was biting him in his rapidly purpling behind. He'd been so careful not to slip up, and the ONE TIME he makes a mistake... He had another decision to make. He could not respond, and just be a complete asshole, but he could protect his secret a little safer, for just a little bit longer. Or he could pick up, and... he didn't know. Bullshit something? Would they even believe whatever malarkey he could cook up in seven seconds for bailing out of a bowling alley restroom? God, he was terrible at improvised excuses! He was a lawyer, not an actor! But if he answered the phone call, maybe- maybe he could hold on to that feeling again. The warmth of companionship of peers his age, that he hadn't felt since law school. Since... Vanessa. But he couldn't think about her right now. What mattered was his safety- his daughter's safety.
Peck. He didn't even think about that part. Could he really rip Harriet out of a somewhat stable home life, again? She was just starting to get along with Cookie's daughter, and he didn't want to take that precious first friendship from her.
Luka was only pulled out of the downward spiral by the vibration of the phone, which he only now realized had registered a missed call, and was now on the second call. It was still MJ, the picture of him in his Horizon employee cap still smiling from the bright phone screen.
He had to do something. He could feel his legs protest the form they was struggling to hold.
Survival instinct set in. First, he had to get away from the scene.
Stumbling to his malforming feet, Luka jogs away from the alley, ducking away from the Pins & Cushions and avoiding the bright neon sign on the side of the building.
As he walks, a headache hits, and Luka just knows his face was losing more of his familiar features. Didn't need a mirror to know that he was definitely the shade of a bruised plum, and that his eyes were glowing like gold beacons. The sharp teeth at the edges of his mouth were digging into his bottom lip as he dodges and weaves to avoid line of sight from storefront apartment windows.
The woods were so close by, just a few more blocks.
Faster. He had to run faster. But his legs- were fighting him! Already he could feel his steps become lighter, movement more fluid. It was a struggle to keep a walking stride, rather than just- leap into the air. No way was he going to fly a block from pecking main street.
His phone continues to vibrate, threatening the call to drop.
Right when he reaches the sidewalk, Luka pants for breath, collapsing beside the pole for a street lamp while avoiding the amber spotlight. Taking one last rueful look at his phone, he sighs, and presses the answer button with a doughy purple finger.
"Luka?" MJ's voice patches through. The reception isn't great, but it's sufficient. Maybe that was a lucky break, considering what his voice was going to sound like in a second.
"Hey," Luka answers. Yep. He sounded like a toad that swallowed a brass tube. "Sorry- about that."
"Dude, are you ok?? Where did you go?" MJ spoke so quickly it almost interrupted Luka, concern clear and evident in his voice. "You ran or something and- you left your shoes at the counter, and the cat plush for your daughter. Clover got them for you-"
"It's ok," Luka says, wincing. "I can pick them up tomorrow. I- don't feel well, and I have to go get Harriet."
"Luka, we could have driven you home for that," MJ responds, a hint of hurt and confusion. "You know you can tell us if you're uncomfortable, and want to leave, right?"
"No- this- I was having fun," Luka responds, cupping a hand over his mouth to try to muffle the echo. He had to wrap this up. His voice was getting less natural by the second. He really hoped the poor reception would mask it. "Look- I'm sorry MJ. But I really had to go."
"You're not getting kidnapped or something are you?" Clover's distant voice suddenly patches through in the phone. MJ must have his phone on speaker. "Because if you are, I'll hunt them down! Just yell where the car is taking you!"
"I'm not- look, I'm sorry, but I just had to go, ok?" Luka says. "Harriet needs me."
"I thought you were feeling sick?" Clover says, her worried tone now tinted with... suspicion. "You ran to the bathroom, and we were all worried about you, dude." Her voice becomes just a bit distant, as she turns to speak to MJ, but the phone picks it up. “Actually, did we ever hear anything from Cookie...?”
"No- I am-" Luka can feel his lies crumbling, nearly becoming true as he experiences a sensation similar to his stomach heaving from the anxiety. "Thanks for the wonderful evening, I'll pick up my stuff later- bye!"
"Wait-!!"
-click-
MJ's protest is cut off, and Luka set the phone down on the grass, putting his head in the other hand. That was terrible. But he couldn't back out on it now. He would just have to deal with the consequences of that phone call tomorrow.
Not like having shoes or not bothered him, anyway.
Exhausted and resigned, Luka slides away from the lamp post into the chaparral, and begins rapidly pulling his shirt over his head. No way was he going to lose another shirt, not after the last one. This was his last nice shirt, and he intended to keep it as long as possible!
A quiet gasp jolts him out of his frantic folding.
Luka whips around, shirtless, half de-pantsed, and his body a full shade of deep shadow purple. His golden eyes glow in the reflected street light as he freezes on the spot, making eye contact with another human being across the road. It was the stocky mustachioed man from the coffee shop- the regular who came by and sketched quietly in a corner. Pinstriped suit- which seemed to be the only outfit anyone ever saw him wore- an apron, and grey khaki pants. The thick glasses would make it difficult to tell where he was looking, if the man wasn't standing with his square jaw hanging down at his chest, head angled directly toward Luka. Everyone dismissed him as a paranoiac, a hermit who stopped by for his morning caffeine fix and quiet atmosphere to indulge in his imagination. Rumors flew that he used to work for some sort of tabloid magazine, and was fired- or promoted?- for how crazy his stories were.
Whatever the reason, this man was now standing, groceries dropped to the pavement, and staring at Luka. A very half-naked, absolutely not human-looking Luka.
Face suddenly burning hot with embarrassment and fear, Luka grabs his belt loops and bolts into the trees.
The movement causes the man to only gape more, making a wordless noise of astonishment before the forest breaks their line of sight and Luka retreats into the safety of the woods. Luka just barely remembers to grab his shirt and belt from the bushes. Vanishing entirely from sight, stumbling over debris as his transformation takes full hold of his body, Luka wheezes as his heart beats in his chest. After all that, he was seen! Peck! Did he just ruin everything because he wasn’t paying attention? But- but it was just the local hermit, the resident conspiracy nut. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? This wasn’t as catastrophic as being spotted by a teen with a cell phone open. Surely, this was the safest possible person in town to accidentally spot him mid-transformation. Repercussions would be minimal.
Thank god the man didn't have a camera.
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blackcherrykiss · 4 years ago
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BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.5)
[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4]  previous chapters
[CH.6] next chapter (now available!)
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genre: vampire au, romance, drama, mystery, thriller
note: written inspired by enhypen's storyline, given-taken lyrics & teasers. please keep in mind all members are apart of this fanfic and the main theme is mystery/drama!
P.S Niki and Sunoo's roles become bigger in later chapters :) sorry I took 2 weeks to update. School + new enhypen teasers made me alter the story now jesus their lore is confusingly interesting. Didn't proofread half of this chapter LOL. Happy readings <3
"Well now that everyone is here, I'd like to announce we have a new student who just transferred here." Your eyes were immediately drawn to the student's platinum blonde hair. Despite his sharp and charismatic face, his eyes were delicate and innocent. He had an exceptionally small face and a sunkissed skin tone. The new student snapped himself around so that the entire classroom got a good look at him, "Hello, my name is Park Jongseong or Jay, call me whatever you feel." He bowed slightly, his voice having a cool ring that played over in your head.
"Everybody please welcome Jay to our astronomy class. Lend him any of our previous notes because midterms are coming up and I'd appreciate as a teacher if you guys helped him catch up before our long weekend coming up in two weeks." Your teacher gave a warm smile, nodding in such a way that made the rest of the class nod with her.
Without a student saying a word, everyone's eyes followed him as he took a seat at a desk a couple of rows in front of you.
You stared at him tirelessly, barely listening as your teacher rambled off-topic. You noticed Jay often stared out at the crying sky that occasionally flickered with lightning. His eyes focused intently on the woods. You were sure you weren't the only one who was interested in the new boy as you frequently caught other students glancing over at him every few seconds. Jay carried an attractive and dark aura that clearly contrasted from the crowd. Both girls and boys stared at him not because of his pretty face but because he was far different from the new students who had joined your school mid-semester.
The class flew by for you because of Jay until a simple but intriguing question was purposed by the teacher, "Bonus marks today if anyone can guess when the next full moon is." she lifted her eyes off the projector for a few moments, waiting for answers to come sailing.
"Saturday?" Somebody from the front called out, followed by numerous answers that ranged between the second week to the fourth week of the month.
"Come on now. Don't blurt out, give others chances to guess. Jay why don't you guess?" Your teacher questioned welcomingly, expecting no answer from him.
He leaned back in his chair, scraping the non-writing end of his ballpen on his thumb, "November 30." A gentle sound of thunder playing perfectly when he said the answer; like some sort of scene out of a comic.
"Ding ding ding!" Your teacher switched to a PowerPoint slide with the new unit name bolded, "I know this isn't part of the curriculum but I got it approved by the head of the school." She took a breath, giving students time to comprehend what was presented in front of them. "Our next unit will be looking deeper at the moon. More specifically, we'll be looking at both the sciency and non-sciency sides of this topic. And before anyone asks; no, you don't need to believe in astrology or superstitions to understand the non-sciency material. It's just very fascinating because it connects to many cultures." Your attention was now far away from Jay. You were enthusiastic about a topic for once in the class.
"And looks like we're running out of time." Your teacher's wrist clock blocking her eyes. "That's it for today's class everyone! I'll have your projects marked for next class, I promise! Have a good day." She said while shutting off the projector.
You slid all your handouts into your binder, not bothering to align the three-hole punches of the papers to their designated rings.
"Y/N before you go, do you mind helping out Jay? Today or tomorrow?" Your teacher stopped you on your way out.
"Like lend him my notes?"
"Yep! I just forgot to ask but he just left so you might be able to catch up to him. Maybe ask if he's got the notes yet."
You waved your goodbyes and chased the new boy down, his uniquely blonde hair standing out from the hallway of heads. You picked up the pace to catch up with his swift steps when you caught him chatting with Sunghoon and Jaeyun. Your feet froze straight down in their place.
Were they new friends? Or perhaps they were old friends?
You weren't going to bother talking to Jay as you already knew what kind of funny business would come up if you did. You could only watch them swing and lean their arms against each other in a close and friendly way. The picture was becoming more and more clear to you as to what kind of association Jay had with Sunghoon and Jaeyun perhaps even Heeseung, Sunoo or Jungwon.
...
You throw yourself violently over your thick mattress after finishing a long study and homework session at your dorm. The session wasn't productive but the time you spent surrounded by your schoolwork made it feel that way. Your dorm was awfully quiet that afternoon as your dormmates had music rehearsals for their extracurriculars. Nana had told you to come by the music rooms around a quarter past five when their practice was over to go down to the dining hall and have dinner but you couldn't think of a way to kill your remaining hour alone.
Phones were forbidden in your school and you often felt uncontrollably alone and bored with your thoughts during your free time. You could only lay tangled in your bed with your half progressed work in the corner of your eye. You shift on one side to watch your wide-open binder until you got some burst of motivation to finish studying until an idea hits you.
After eyeing your handouts from your astronomy class, you decide to hit the library and do some reading to get a little advanced in the class. Sure you could study for your other class but the sudden idea was far more worth your time in your mind. You quickly twirl out of your room, clearing your desk while you're at it. Excitedly, you hop into your shoes and head straight for the library. You were put in a good mood as you skipped along the long journey to the bookhouse.
The library was moderately packed as you don't bother to recognize any faces there. You get deja vu as you trail the same path you did when Sunghoon and Kyungeun were around. Sliding between the thin space between the bookshelves once again, you search for the section related to the moon, feeling dizzy at the sight of books your school owned. You could've made your life easier by asking the librarian but you were confident you could find it on your own. You move up and down the aisles as you catch a glimpse of theoretical and astrology related books that sit next to a couple of history books.
Backing up, you awkwardly bend your knees forward to get a better look at the small selection of books under the genre. You peel a random book spine out from its tight spot as if it had never been taken out before. You dust off the book a bit, reading the wordless cover and open it to check if it was really related to any sort of astronomy as you find a much stranger subject being discussed.
"Finding everything alright?" The librarian comes by, pushing a kart from the other end of the shelves. "I-I'm looking for books related to the moon." You say, standing up and forgetting you still had the old book in hand.
"The scientific information is just on the other side of this shelf but the section you were just looking at has some interesting stuff that might be related." The librarian stuffed herself in between the shelves to get toward you.
"Yeah, I noticed... This book I just picked up was talking about vampires." You laugh a little as you hold it up.
"Ah, that book..." She paused, snatching the book out of your hands to examine it, "I read this before... It relates to astrology. I think there are some parts of the book that go into detail about the moon, you should give it a read."
"Is this book just theoretical research about vampires though?" You were unconvinced with the idea.
"Yeah, real or not, our school grounds and the neighbouring town are talked about in the book. Apparently many years ago this place used to be a hotspot for vampires."  She looked you dead in the eyes.
"Do you think the information is true?" You questioned with deep curiosity upon her answer.
"Some information in there is haunting. I think vampires did exist." She said with some sort of distress beginning to seep into her face.
Shivers ran down your spine, if she was just trying to sell you the book, it was working damn well on you.
"I'll leave you be, no need to sign out the book, nobody ever takes it out so I trust you'll return it." And with that said, she left you cold with mystery as the book between your fingers stared at you with big round eyes.
You shake back to reality, checking your wrist just to find out your time has vanished. You shift your priorities to getting to the music department, throwing the book into your bag without much thought.
...
The sun was already going down around the afternoon as the days got shorter with autumn blossoming. You're standing between rooms full of beautiful voices and instruments, peering through every window attached to a door in an attempt to find your roommates. The issue was the widows didn't give much of a view as to who was in the rooms. But your ears were drawn to a gentle piano that played a bittersweet melody beneath the louder sounds of people singing in a harmonious glee. As you move in the forward direction of the hallway, the piano gets clearer to your ears. It became clear that the sound was coming out of a room with its door wide open. Your back attached it to the wall in fear of being seen as slide yourself until you meet the spine of the door where you could see into the shadowy room.
Your eyes lit up when they see a familiar platinum blondie behind the keys. The melody was enchanting and was played in such a personal way as the sounds escaped into the noisy environment where it hoped to go unheard. Jay had reached the final notes of his song as he turned his head in your direction. It was as if he knew of your present from the moment you started watching him from the doorway.
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multisfabulis · 3 years ago
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Only Through Acceptance Will Love Find Us
Hopeless (Chapter 3)
Word Count: 3361
DISCLAIMER: This chapter contains a sexual assault scene that may be potentially triggering. While it is only an unwanted kiss, it is still abundantly clear that it is non-consensual and the imagery used can be considered as too graphic; thus, the reason this disclaimer exists. If you are not comfortable reading that, feel free to skip this chapter. Otherwise, please exercise caution and take care of yourself.
Oh, look! Another chapter that didn't take almost a year to come out! I'm getting better at this!
Seriously, though, I'm glad there wasn't too long of a break between chapters this time. This was originally going to be super long but I decided to cut it into two because there would've been too many things going on in this chapter and I thought it would be better story-wise to end this with Ven lamenting over the state of her life in despair. Next chapter does get better but we'll have to wait till then!
As for the Scene between Ven and Renard, I hope I did a good job in conveying the horror being in that position brings. It's a situation that, while I'm thankful I've never been in and hope to never be in, many people unfortunately have experience with. This kind of disgusting behavior doesn't discriminate and it brings trauma to the people who have been in Ven's position. At the very least, I believe this may be my only time writing any thing like this because I don't like putting my OCs into this kind of situation. It makes it too real, in a sense.
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     “All right, that should about do it!”
     Standing up straight, Ven wiped the sweat off her brow as she looked upon the fruits of her labor with pride. She had just finished planting seeds in the garden and the pansies were sure to start sprouting in a few weeks’ time. She couldn’t wait to see her mother’s reaction when she returned from her business trip and was greeted by an iridescent sea of flowers throughout the homestead. It would be a nice reward for all the hard work she’d done over the last year.
     She glanced up at the sky. It was only a little past noon, with clouds drifting to and fro as the sun beamed down upon her. Her stomach growled seemingly right on cue and she realized just how hungry she was. She had gone straight to her garden after coming home from work today so she hadn’t eaten anything since this morning. Now was the perfect time for a break, she thought.
     She walked inside and to the kitchen with purpose. Humming a little tune to herself, she took out the footstool and put it in front of the counter to reach one of the cabinets above her. Inside was a mason jar full of blackberries she’d been wanting to eat since around lunchtime yesterday. Dinner wouldn’t be for another few hours yet so these would be a good snack to help tide her over till then. With that out of the way, she hopped off the footstool, unscrewed the lid, and popped some of the delicious berries into her mouth.
     What else was there to do on her checklist? She fed the animals their breakfast, headed off to work, gave the other half of bread she baked to the bookshop owner, and tended to her garden. As far as she knew, the only task she had left would be to feed the animals their dinner in the evening, which meant she had the rest of the day to do whatever she wanted. Realizing that, she had already decided how she was going to spend her newfound free time.
     She walked over to the table where her book was lying. There was a folded up piece of paper slipped between the pages, acting as a sort of bookmark since she didn’t own a proper one yet. She picked it up and brought it with her to her chair, opening it to where she last left off at. With all the preparations complete, she began reading, feeling herself being sucked into the fantasy world once more.
     It was the climax. The heroine and the beast had been reunited, only for it to be tragically cut short by the villain before falling to his doom. Despite doing everything in her power to try and save him, the beast succumbed to his mortal wounds in the arms of the woman he loved. Ven’s heart ached for the heroine as she grieved over the loss of the one person who truly understood her. Then, by her declaration of love, a miracle was brought about, restoring both the beast’s life and his humanity. Ven read on with bated breath, waiting for the two to finally kiss when---
     Loud knocks broke through her reverie. Were those from outside or was there someone at her door? She strained her ears for a minute or two, listening to see which of the two was correct. When she heard her answer by the door, she let out a low groan in annoyance. It was one thing to be taken out of her immersion while reading but did it really have to come at such a climatic moment? Regardless, it meant she had to go see whoever was here. The sooner she helped them with what they needed, the sooner she could dive back into her story.
     As she hastily tidied everything up, there were even more knocks, leading her to shout at the door with, “I’m coming, just hold on, please!” Whoever they were, they sure were impatient.
     Then it hit her how strange the whole situation was. People normally never came to her house, whether it be out of fear or for some other reason. Both her and her mother’s reputations made it near impossible for them to have customers come visit so who could possibly be at their door? She needed to exercise caution here; she may have been acting paranoid but it was better to be safe than sorry.
     She tiptoed over to the window, pulling the curtain back just a sliver to see who her mystery visitor was without alerting them to her presence. She grimaced upon finding out their identity. What the hell was he doing here, she wondered as she begrudgingly went to answer the door. She had an idea of what his reasons for being here were and she really hoped she could somehow convince him to leave her be. The last thing she wanted was to upset him, especially after what happened yesterday. Steeling her nerves, she opened the door to greet him.
     Forcing on the friendliest smile she could muster, she asked him, “Renard, what brings you by today?”
     “Oh, Thea, you can’t even say hello to me?” He put a hand over where his heart was, as if to say she had wounded him. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Well, no matter. You see, I have come to apologize to you.”
     “...Really?” She was taken aback by this development. Of all the things she expected him to be here for, that wasn’t one of them.
     “Yes, I realized yesterday I may have been too harsh with what I said about your mother. I should’ve reserved my judgment instead of lashing out like I did.” He seemed sincere enough but it was hard to tell whether it was real or not. “I see how my words have hurt you and for that, I truly apologize.”
     After ruminating on it for a moment, she said, “Well, thank you, I appreciated that. On that front, perhaps I should’ve held my tongue as well before letting my anger get the best of me so…I’m sorry.”
     “I accept your apology.” Maybe she was wrong about Renard. There was still something off about him but she was willing to dismiss it as her being overly suspicious of anything that might give her trouble. Then he immediately disregarded any good will he could’ve had by asking, “Anyway, can I come in? I also wanted to make good on my promise.”
     Renard all but barged in, practically shoving her to the side as he slammed the door shut behind him. Panic bubbled up inside her, realizing how quickly the tables had turned on her. How was she going to get him out of her house? While she wanted to believe he wouldn’t dare hurt her in her own home, she definitely didn’t want to test that theory in case it was proven to be false. There was no telling what he’d do if he desired something badly enough.
     As he walked about the living room, she asked in a nervous voice, “Um, if I may, uh, what did you mean by ‘making good on your promise’?”
     “Exactly what I meant, Thea.” He sat down in her mother’s chair, casually reclining back to cross his legs. “I wanna take you out on a date.”
     “Oh, that’s…” she paused, scrambling to figure out how she should proceed onward, “sweet of you, Renard, but I’m afraid I must decline. You caught me right when I was about to get back to work and---”
     “Come on, it’ll only be for an hour, I promise. Let me make it up to you.”
     “Again, I must decline. I have chores to take care of, what with my mother not being here for the time being, and I simply can’t leave them unattended. You know how it is, I’m just too busy!”
     God, she hated being on this invisible tightrope. Her mother always told her to be careful when it came to men who were either too slow on the uptake or too stubborn to get the hint. She needed to let Renard down gently but make it clear she held no romantic interest in him. She had hoped she’d never find herself in this position but the universe seemed to love tormenting her. Of all the times this could’ve happened, why did it have to be now?
     “All right, I’m giving you one last chance to answer me.” He stood up from the chair, the lit fireplace casting his tall shadow across the floor. “Will you go out with me?”
     “Now’s just not a good time.” He was starting to get annoyed, she had to defuse the situation before it had a chance to ignite. “I have work to do and…” She gulped, her eyes flitting around the room for anything to help her out of this.
     “And what?”
     “And…” She glanced towards her book currently lying in her chair. That’s when she had an idea. “I have to return my book soon! I told the bookshop owner I’d give it back to him today so I would really appreciate it if you could please leave.”
     The silence was deafening. It wasn’t the best lie she could’ve fed him but she was desperate. Every second that passed felt like an eternity and she prayed to whatever god there was to make Renard leave. Then he breathed in deep as if mulling over what she just said, giving her hope he finally got the message.
     “You know, Thea, I really don’t like it when people lie to me,” he said, sending shivers down her spine. “I’d rather you tell me the truth instead of beating around the bush.”
     Even if she dug the hole deeper, she attempted to save herself by stammering out, “B-but I swear, I’m not---”
     “As much as I admire your learnedness, it’s becoming quite the detriment for you now.” He picked up her book and held it, causing fear to wash over her like she were taking an ice cold bath. “You seem to believe this piece of trash will give you everything your heart desires when that will never be the case. I can give you more than whatever this garbage can.”
     “Renard, please, we can talk about this,” she begged, her voice rising in pitch.
     “It’s because I’m looking out for you--” he turned slightly towards the fireplace and her eyes widened in realization-- “I’m doing this.” Then he threw the book into the fire without any hesitation. “You can thank me later.”
     The world seemed to be going by in slow motion. She watched as her beloved book, her dearest companion, was set ablaze and reduced to cinders in her fireplace like it was simply nothing. She wanted to scream, cry, hurt Renard just as he hurt her. Instead, she clenched her hands, met his gaze, and gave him a glare that had risen from the very depths of her rage.
     “I will say this once and only once.” She took a step forward. “I am never going to go out with you. Whatever you think is going to happen between us will never happen, especially not after what you did. Do I make myself clear?” She pointed a finger towards the door. “Now get the hell out of my house and don’t come near me ever again, you stuck up son of a bitch.”
     The room fell into silence. How she wasn’t beating him senselessly right now, she had no idea. The only thing she was focusing on was not letting him see the tears brimming her eyes over the loss of her most valuable treasure. She vehemently refused to give him the satisfaction of being able to break her down. After the weight of her words appeared to have sunken in, he responded.
     He advanced towards her slowly. There wasn’t a hint of emotion present on his face, weakening her resolve. It was then she became acutely aware of the sheer difference in size between them. He easily dwarfed her in almost every physical quality there was, from height to weight to even strength. He could do anything he wanted to her and she would have no chance in hell of fighting him off. That little epiphany scared her more than death itself.
     “You know, Thea, I don’t think you understand the position you’re in. Do you even realize just how many people would kill to be you right now?” She backed away from him as he continued to approach her, trying to create as much space between them as she possibly could. “You’re either too dim or too naive to see and I know you’ve got a brain inside that pretty little head of yours.” She hit the front door and he put both arms up on either side of her, effectively trapping her. “I must say you’re even more beautiful up close like this.”
     Her heart pounding against her chest, she fought to keep her voice steady as she said, “W-what are you going to do, hurt me? I’ll scream if you do.”
     “Oh, I have no doubt you will but the real question is--” he leaned in, looking down at her-- “would anyone believe you?”
     “W-what are you talking about, of course they would!” she exclaimed, feeling a sense of dread building within her.
     “Are you sure about that?” He sounded almost gleeful in the face of her growing fear. “Think about it, if I did anything to you and you came out about it, would anyone really believe you? Believe that I, Renard Géroux, the savior of Belleurseul, hurt you, the local witch?” He scoffed. “I don’t think so.”
     He was right. His words shook her to her core, the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over as the floor felt like it had gone out from underneath her. If he attacked her, she wouldn’t be able to tell anyone. It’d be her story against his, she’d draw the ire of the whole village down upon her with her accusation. Any strength she had in her legs vanished and it was only by her leaning on the door she stayed standing. She wanted to throw up; no one was going to save her.
     “You’re trembling like a scared rabbit.” He raised a hand to cup her cheek but she recoiled away from it. “Truly a shame you think I’d hurt you.”
     Gathering her courage to speak, she asked him, “Wh-what do you want from me?”
     “I think, since you seem to be on the verge of a fit, all I want is a kiss.” He brushed a thumb across her bottom lip. “I trust you know what I mean. We’re both adults here and I believe we should act as much.”
     This was hell. Everything was just getting worse and worse and she wanted nothing more than to die at that very moment. Renard had her in his grasp, free to do whatever he pleased with her. Her first kiss was going to be with a man who only saw her as a trophy he felt entitled to if she didn’t stop him here. She may not have been strong enough to push him off but she had to do something.
     He leaned down as her hands searched for anything that could help her. Her fingers swept against a metallic object, cool to the touch. She realized it was the knob to the front door. Now all she needed was to wait for the right opportunity to show itself so she could free herself from this position. She couldn’t afford to waste what could be her only ticket out.
     His lips were nearly upon hers. She could feel his warm breath fanning out over her mouth and she knew then it was now or never. A split second before they were about to kiss, she twisted the knob to thrust the door open. She pressed herself flat against its surface to avoid flying out, which was exactly what Renard didn’t do. He stumbled forward with such force, he ended up tumbling over the stone half-wall outside and falling into the small, murky pond below.
     She had just enough time to head back inside and lock the door. If Renard decided to retaliate against her, she wasn’t taking any chances. Minutes passed as she stood mere meters away from the door, unsure on whether she should run upstairs to fetch her dagger or not. When it became clear he wasn’t going to do anything to her, she breathed a shaky sigh of relief. Her reprieve was short-lived, however, once she remembered about her book.
     She rushed over to the fireplace. A part of her clung to the hope her book could potentially be saved but it was all for naught. The once small yet exquisite book was no more, its burnt remains a gray ash spread amongst the firewood. She dropped to her knees in despair. Her one ally, her source of comfort in a cruel world, was truly gone, never to be seen again.
     A broken sob slipped out of her mouth as tears slid down her cheeks. The pain felt insurmountable and she could do nothing except scream at the top of her lungs till her throat was hoarse. She wanted so many things yet what she wanted most of all was her mother. She wished she was here to console her instead of being on a business trip to god knows where. Grief then gave way to anger.
     She hated this. She hated Belleurseul, hated living in it, hated the villagers, hated everything that had to do with this horrible hellhole. She wanted it all to disappear, to drown in the deepest bowels of hell where it could never hurt her again. She hated herself the very most, for looking the way she did, being the way she was, for even existing in the horrid life she had.
     She asked herself, why couldn’t she be normal? Why couldn’t she have looked like other girls and not stand out? That way, no one would hate or fear her and Renard would be some other person’s problem to deal with. Why was she cursed to be like this, what god did she unknowingly offend, was she put here just to suffer? No matter how much she begged, her questions would never be answered. She had gone through her whole life without them, why not the rest of it then?
     She sat in front of the fireplace, mourning the loss of her only friend all the while wishing for a new life.
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ri-ahhh · 4 years ago
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can u just give me mushy gushy shit with grayson like ethan has a girl over so the two of you decide to go out for a burger date and a walk at night? idk something like that pls 👉🏻👈🏻
A/N: I couldn’t even tell you how long this has been sitting in my drafts but I was looking through trying to find something to finish bc I was in the mood to write but not from scratch and found this lol. It was about halfway done and I have no idea where I was going with it but this is what it turned into as of today. Idek if there’s even anyone around here anymore to read this but whatever haha here it is.
You don’t usually mind being single. Even when your best friend/roommate Stella started seeing her boyfriend Charlie seriously, it didn’t give you any longing for a relationship of your own.
But there are some nights where you feel down and you just can’t handle it. The scenes of casual intimacy as soon as you get home and see them together �� the vase of flowers on the kitchen island he must have brought over; the playful bickering across the room.
The incessant, unrelenting sound of a marathon session going on through the shared wall of your and Stella’s bedrooms.
You groan and turn the volume up on your AirPods, going straight to your messages next.
Wyd?
{G} 👀
Don’t be weird.
Pretty sure Stella and Charlie are trying to put a hole in the wall w her headboard and I can’t take it anymore.
Your roommate chooses that moment to let out a particularly enthusiastic “fuck!” If she weren’t your best friend, you might have given in to the urge to bang on the wall, but your phone lights up with Grayson’s reply anyway.
{G} E too.
{G} I mean like I can’t hear him but ik what’s going down in there
{G} I’d offer to pick u up but sounds like u need to get outta there lol. Meet me here?
You like the message and slip on some shoes, making sure to slam your bedroom door closed on your way out, as if it would make them pause even one thrust.
In the year that you’ve known him, Grayson Dolan has become one of your closest friends. The kind where you met as acquaintances, never talked much, but then you reconnected randomly and the conversation never stopped from there on. You talk about anything and everything, but recently you’ve bonded even more about being a perpetual third wheel. You knew he’d understand and not pass judgement on you in times like this, so it had been a no-brainer to text him as an escape from tonight.
He buzzes you into the gate when you get to his house, and he tells you over another text to go ahead and hop in the Porsche before he even gets outside. It makes you smile; night drives are your favorite, and while the Tesla is a vibe in its own right, there’s just something calming about someone (your attractive friend, no less) tangibly driving you around. It’s exactly what you need right now, no matter what destination he has in mind.
When he slides into the driver’s side not even a minute later, you’re almost overwhelmed by him. Looking far too good in your eyes for how casual he’s dressed in a well-fitting T-shirt and some grey sweats. Hair slightly damp from a recent shower.
He greets you with a grin and leans over the console to kiss your cheek, and you can smell the combination of his shampoo and a bit of cologne. You always appreciated that he doesn’t overdo the fragrance, and if possible it makes him even more intoxicating at times.
“Hey,” he says simply, sitting back in his seat and fastening the seatbelt.
“Hey.” You smile and watch him with a silent but fairly obvious appreciation as he reaches a hand to rest on the back of your seat, twisting the bit he needs to look out the back windshield. The Porsche has a backup camera, obviously, but he’s a cautious driver to a fault and insists he doesn’t fully trust them.
Grayson gets the car facing enough of the right direction to throw it in drive and exit down the long driveway. You shake your head and settle back, kicking off your shoes with a sigh and tucking your feet onto the seat beneath you.
“One day, we’ll be the ones making them leave the house,” he jokes, stopping for the gate to open.
You know it’s implied that he’s referring to the two of you with separate people, but you can’t help but consider the option that the two of you could make that happen together.
“I know for a fact you have a booty call list a mile long, Dolan,” you say with a raised brow. Despite the fleeting thought, keeping things lighthearted and platonic is much easier to deal with in reality. “You could have called one of them and done just that.”
He scoffs and pretends like you’ve just hurt him deeply, slapping a hand to his burly chest to clutch at his heart. “Excuse me, it is not a mile long.” He glances over at you with a held-back smirk. “A couple hundred yards, tops.”
You throw your head back with a loud cackle, looking out the window now as he turns onto the main road. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Damn, that’s a big word.” He likes to tease you about your extended vocabulary.
“Hopeless,” you elaborate, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.
“Is that what that word means, or are you making fun of my high school dropout vocab?”
“Both.”
You let your head roll back against the headrest, turning to watch him, knees swayed to the side a bit. His form isn’t hidden in the dark at all, features lit up by the dash in front of him and the streetlights you’re passing by outside.
“Why didn’t you, then? Call one of them?”
Grayson shrugs. “Just didn’t really feel like spending time with people tonight.”
You’re silent for a moment and consider his answer. “Why did you agree to hang out, then? You didn’t have to.”
His eyes never leave the road, but you see the veins in his hand gripping the steering wheel bulge out for a moment as he squeezes it tightly.
“I guess I meant I didn’t want to spend time with people I don’t really care about.”
Your heart skips a beat, but you play it off with a sarcastic tone. “Aw, you care about me?”
“Of course I do,” he replies easily. “I’m not sure why, though. You’re so fuckin sassy sometimes.”
“You love it.”
The car rolls to a stop at a red light. Grayson’s hand slides from where it’s lightly gripping the gear shift, to yours, which is picking at a loose string on your leggings.
Your easy smile at the comfortable banter between you and Grayson falters some in surprise, but you let him turn your palm over and trace the lines of your hand softly. Both of your gazes are fixated on the way he tickles your skin when he says, “Yeah. I do.”
Your eyes shoot up, just in time to meet his. He looks at you with a weird mixture heat and vulnerability, and there’s a thick moment of silence, no longer than the single beat of your heart that you can hear thudding loud and clear in your ears, when suddenly the car behind you lays on the horn.
Both of you startle, and Grayson’s attention returns to the road ahead. He steps on the gas and takes his hand away, carding it through his hair roughly as you sink back into your seat with a disbelieving scoff.
“Oh my God, dude, you can’t just do that to me,” you blurt out, your heart in your stomach and your brain even lower. A helpless giggle escapes you, and you tug on your own locks. “Shit...”
“What?” he asks defensively, but you hear the tiny bit of the grin he’s wearing in his voice.
You turn your head to deadpan him, eyes wide. “You can’t just... imply something like that and give me sex eyes and not think you did something to me! Are you crazy?”
He gives a one-shouldered shrug with the arm resting on top of the steering wheel again. “Maybe. You’re proving my ‘sassy’ point all over again.”
“Oh my — don’t fuck with my head, Gray.”
“Hey.” His voice is deeper, more serious as the car comes to another stop. You’re only just now realizing you’ve reached the burger joint, and that the late hour made finding parking a nonexistent problem. He puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt before doing the same to yours. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to fuck with your head, I promise. I just... didn’t want it to seem like I was coming on too strong too suddenly. I, uh, have a history of doing that.”
You stare at him, processing everything. “I know.”
He chuckles dryly. “Yeah, I know you do.”
There’s more silence. That heavy kind that happened right after his little impromptu confession.
“You know,” you finally speak up, finding your voice after mulling over your words, “I kinda love that you’re a douche.”
He looks a little taken aback, until understanding dawns on him, and his eyes light up in a way that has you smiling instantly with him. “Really?”
You nod. “Call me crazy.”
Grayson shifts closer in his seat, his pink tongue darting out to lick those plump lips. You mirror him, and this time you take the initiative to reach out for his hand. It’s warm and strong, just like the rest of him.
Like earlier, you watch your hands lightly caressing each other as you speak. “And I love that you come on strong. And that you put your heart out there.” You interlace your fingers, immediately in love with the contrast of his huge ones between your slim ones. “Makes things way easier for me.”
He grins wide. “There’s that sass again.”
You bite your lip through your smirk and tug him close to you with your clasped hands, your free one reaching behind his neck to drag his lips to yours. “Mm. Better shut me up, then.”
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feuqueerfire · 3 years ago
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Feu's August 2022 BL/GL Wrap-Up
A little monthly wrap-up of all the shows I’ve watched or am watching in August 2022, general thoughts, ranking of them all.
Recommendation of the month: Badhaai Do
Some delightful queer brown people. Comedic and touching.
youtube
Ranking
Badhaai Do
Love Mechanics
Magic of Zero: Zero Photography = Our Skyy: Cause You’re My Boy = Girl Next Room: Richy Rich
Ocean Likes Me
Unrated: The Gifted (original 1h video), Triple: Do You Want?, the random 18 Again scenes rewatch, The Eclipse for now
DNF/Skimmed: Cause You're My Boy, En of Love: This Is Love Story, Y-Destiny Ep 3 & 4 (Sun & Nuea ie MaxNat), Dear.M
bro what a weird watching month where I dropped/skimmed a bunch of things and also watched 2 episodes from 2 different anthologies but didn’t finish either anthology. My “Watched” BL list for MDL is so empty this month because The Gifted movie and Girl Next Room aren’t BLs and Badhaai Do isn’t on MDL lol. Love Mechanics and Ocean Likes Me really holding it all down (+ that short scene from Triple).
Completely Watched
'Cause You're My Boy - Dropped
Country: Thailand
Release Dates: Jun 23, 2018 - Sep 22, 2018
Dates Watched: Aug 1 - 5, 2022 (kind of)  
Rating: N/A /10
Watched Via: Youtube (GMMTV)
General Thoughts: Momentous BL only in the sense that it’s the first one I’m deciding to drop (on Aug 08, a 3 whole days since I made any effort to continue watching). I’m kinda in a slump and if I force myself through 7 more episodes of this (even by skipping + speeding up) it’s just gonna make it worse. I stopped at Episode 5, which is when they’ve gotten together and it’s all happy, so I’m not like curious at all about what happens next lol. I really like how differently the characters are portrayed than most other BLs (they are in high school and one of them sells porn for a side income, there's even some shorts he used to jerk off, etc like they have vulnerable sides, playful sides, thoughtful sides to them but also they're horny teenage boys or at least not innocent .it made me feel all ~gendery~ in a different way than Cupid's Last Wish did and made me regret the fact that I was never a teenage boy), I liked how it actually showed the livelihood of someone whose father is a barber (they actually have to care about how much money they spend, telling all their friends about the shop, trying to gain followers on IG of their shop to get customers, etc), and the Neo/Phuwin cuteness but the technical aspects are so bad
Also Appears In: Cause You’re My Boy Live Blogging
I've been having a hard time binging shows for the past 1 to 1.5 months. It kinda started with Absolute BL (took me 3 days to watch 4 20 minute episodes lol) and KinnPorsche (I really just watched like 1 ep a day and also didn't gaf about Kinn/Porsche) but it wasn't super noticeable because I was still engaged in like the fandom and with tumblr fanworks while binging KinnPorsche and reading fic after it finished.
However, since then, the only show I've been kind of engaged in and binging has been Cupid's Last Wish and for other stuff I was watching like 20-30 minutes a day and maybe after a while just skipping things or going at 2x speed.
I think I should change up my habits instead of just binging one show straight through, like maybe switch between 2 shows so that I watch the other whenever I'm bored of one. Perhaps try finally starting a show that's On Air but that might be a bad idea for my personal life.
This will be after Love Mechanics though, I hope I'll love that one and won't make progress at the pace of a snail. (More on my random LM obsession since mid-July despite not having watched it yet)
Love Mechanics
Country: Thailand
Release Dates: Jun 18, 2022 - Aug 6, 2022
Dates Watched: Aug 10 - 13, 2022
Rating: 7/10
Watched Via: WeTV (free)
General Thoughts: I wasn't interested in this until people started talking about how good the acting is and how much they're liking it, so I tentatively added it to my To-Watch list. Middle of July, when I think episode 6 was out, I started watching tiktoks from the show and no joke it made me so giddy and smile so much. The actors seemed to really have a ton of chemistry that made it believable that the characters were falling for each and were actually romantically into each other. Anyway, because of it, I came in expecting to like it and to just... ignore the red flags or bad decisions, both of which came true. Goddamn I forced so much annoying stuff to not annoy/bother me (the cheating/the weird ways they treat people as property/Vee's character writing was kinda weak but I just resorted it to him being dumb/the annoying friends) but also I liked Vee, Mark, and Ploy more than I expected to. Definitely helped by the fact that they were all competent actors playing charming characters. Two things that stood out: Ploy/Vee’s registers + pronouns when speaking to each other and Vee/Mark playing around with consensual nonconsent in episode 10 after credits scene and how much fun they had with it.
tags: love mechanics
Also Appears In: Love Mechanics Live Blogging
En of Love: This Is Love Story - Skipped
Country: Thailand
Release Dates: Jun 6, 2020 - Jun 20, 2020
Dates Watched: Aug 14, 2022
Rating: N/A bc SKIMMED/DNF
Watched Via: Viki (free)
General Thoughts: Skipping through this just to see Vee/Mark
starting with the slap from the tiktok that made me realize I wanna watch it in the first place
lol them teasing Vee 
the conversation between Nuea and Kan about Nuea pursuing Kan’s nong is funny 
ep 2 of this is where the “Phi not as in older brother, the same way daddy doesn’t mean father” and Nuea doesn’t even get it lmfao
ep 3: the friend group was annoying and teasing in En of Love too, though maybe they’re nicer and more caring here, who knows jk they hate nuea here too lol. terrible ass study group though, but still funny and cute
Vee/Mark are so (lovingly) violent here lmfao there’s even some playful choking at 32:55 like 
lol the Vee/Mark Meb ad that’s also full of violence <3
Watched a whole bunch of YinWar content (Yin and War Interviews and Videos)
Wanted to skim the Love Mechanics novel and ended up just skipping the first 25% on MEB. However, did find a translation on Wattpad for Fahlanruk, which I know is a show that’s gonna come out soon (rumours say September). Only managed to get up to chapter 3 because the writing and/or translation is near incomprehensible. 
The Gifted (non-BL)
Country: Thailand
Release Dates: Dec 13, 2015
Dates Watched: Aug 17, 2022
Rating: N/A
Watched Via: Youtube (free)
General Thoughts: Not rated because it’s a student made thing(?) + it’s the original of a show that I’ve already watched. Interesting to see Up here + to see what powers/twists the show kept and what they changed
Magic of Zero: Zero Photography (GL)
Country: Thailand
Release Dates: Aug 11, 2022
Dates Watched: Aug 18, 2022
Rating: 6/10
Watched Via: GMMTV Youtube (free)
General Thoughts: Generally very, very, very cute >.< InkPa are just a cute, endearing ship. Full of humour and hijinks with some tinges of angst like the insecurity + Pa crying when asking Ink to take her photo. But in the end, more fluff and cuteness. Hope we get them in a GL next year, c’mon
tags: magic of zero (+ occasionally: bad buddy, girls)
Also Appears In: Zero Photography Live Blogging
Love Mechanics Director’s Cut (Aug 19/20): Watched the ending of ep 2 and start of ep 3, both of which I’d actually watched already from tiktoks lol
Badhaai Do - not on MDL
Country: India
Release Dates: Aug 11, 2022
Dates Watched: Aug 20, 2022
Rating: 7.5/10
Watched Via: Netflix
General Thoughts: I love watching East or South East Asian media because it has similarities to my South Asian culture and I enjoy seeing these similarities that I wouldn't see in Western shows. However, seeing an actual South Asian movie where the culture is so similar to mine (different religions, so not quite the same) is so good! Family everywhere and all of them nosy! Familial pressure from all sides! The CNGs that they rode! The hustle and bustle of the city and of life! Hindi's similar to Bengali! Unfamiliar with the ultimate acceptance from many family members though lol but I can live vicariously through them I guess. Sumi and Rimjhim (love her name) are so freaking beautiful. They were so beautiful. I didn't like Shardul (lmfao patriarchal cop mans) but I guess... this movie wasn't necessarily about liking him. He deserves rights and for his queerness to be accepted even if I don't like him. I wish we got some more of the lawyer mans and Shardul, he was the most interesting character for sure. Happy ending, funny moments, tinged with some sadness and struggles. I enjoyed it.
tags: badhaai do (+ 1 girls gif)
Also Appears In: Badhaai Do Live Blogging
This wasn’t on my list or anything but uhh suddenly watching
Y-Destiny: Episodes 3 & 4 (Sun & Nuea) - Skimmed/Dropped
Country: Thailand
Release Dates: Mar 30, 2021 - Jul 6, 2021  
Dates Watched: Aug 21, 2022
Watched Via: :>
General Thoughts: okay well, thought I’d watch it since Nat/Nuea is younger but plays a more bold character while the older Sun/Max is shy. I like the dynamics but it was repetitive and boring and I didn’t care, so I skimmed 0.5 of ep 3 and hardly watched ep 4. Oh well.
Our Skyy: Cause You’re My Boy Continuation
Country: Thailand
Release Dates: Dec 07, 2018
Dates Watched: Aug 21, 2022
Rating: 6/10
Watched Via: Youtube (free)
General Thoughts: DNF-ed the actual show but I’ll watch the special anyway. lmfao the whole show gonna be based on misunderstandings galore, huh? At least it’ll be wrapped up in 1 episode but honestly Neo’s giddy face while he texts the fake account N from Mork’s phone is so funny, I’m not even annoyed. not the overhearing them and thinking they’re having sex aksdfj but P’Nair’s actually instructing Mork about the clarinet not cunnilingus lmfao. Bro the band even got costumes lol all this for a random guy’s anniversary present for free, this requires more suspension of belief than most fantasy novels/shows. They mentioned N/Nuknik, so I guess the resolution of explaining that happened off-screen? Aw, I think it would’ve been funny if we saw even Mork’s confusion and then Gord had to do some explaining. Anyway, cute enough despite just being a whole episode about misunderstanding and it made me laugh a few times.
Girl Next Room: Richy Rich
Country: Thailand
Release Dates: May 17, 2020 - Jun 14, 2020
Dates Watched: Aug 22 - 24, 2022
Rating: 6/10
Watched Via: GMMTV Youtube (free)
General Thoughts: It's fine. I liked the first half more than the second half because I don't think they handled serious issues well (like the actual rich stuff and how Duchess and Krathing think about it) or tied things up in a way that made sense (going from being upset at Krathing to them being cute just because Krathing said he was pretending to be KhonKhao as a child). Still, the first half was fun and Krathing and Duchess were cute, I liked their little frenemies thing.
Also Appears In: Girl Next Room: Richy Rich Live Blogging
Triple - Do You Want?
Country: South Korea
Release Dates: Dec 15, 2020
Dates Watched: Aug 24, 2022
Rating: N/A
Watched Via: Youtube (free)
General Thoughts: Only watching the f/f and m/m parts. Oh, I thought it’s just the same situation for each couple but the script is the exact same too. Unfortunately that the script is kinda bad lol. not rating it. 
Saw this reddit comment of this video of “Han Jisung stealing all of Stray Kids’ jewelry” so I watched that video, last part of finding skz ep 4 and first part of 5
The Eclipse - Currently Watching
Country: Thailand
Release Dates: Aug 12, 2022 - Oct 28, 2022
Dates Watched: Aug 24 - ONGOING, 2022
Rating: N/A
Watched Via: GMMTV Youtube (free)
General Thoughts: First ongoing show since like 2gether and even that I had started when ~10 episodes had released, not just 2. Enjoying it so far, though, watched the first 3 episodes and am now gonna have to wait for the next one. So far, the plot and the characters and their relationships are shaping up to be quite interesting!
tags: the eclipse (+ special ep)
Also Appears In: The Eclipse Ep 1 - 3 Live Blogging
Aug 26 11pm
Started Dear.M because I like Jaehyun and also liked Roh Jeong Eui from when she played the daughter in 18 Again. However, the first episode didn’t draw me to it at all and I could tell the way most storylines were going were going to annoy me rip. So I watched about 25 minutes of episode 1, the last 5 minutes of Ep 12 (understood nothing as expected) and got outta there because if I stuck around for 3-4 episodes, I would’ve just forced myself to finish it even though I don’t really like it.
Aug 27 - 12 am
Actually lemme rewatch some 18 Again scenes instead, specifically Jeong Eui as Shia’s romantic storyline. It was cute imo I didn’t really care for it when I first watched it but then on my second watch I was like aww they’re cute! Moved all my thoughts from here to: 18 Again Skimming Ep 12 - 15 Live Blogging
Ocean Likes Me
Country: South Korea
Release Dates: Apr 26, 2022 - May 18, 2022
Dates Watched: Aug 28 - 29, 2022
Rating: 4.5/10
Watched Via: Viki (free)
General Thoughts: I’ve heard mostly meh things about it but I need to watch something Korean and this has Holland. The characters were somewhat endearing or cute in some places but the story is nonsensical and there’s no depth and it’s boring as hell and the ending made absolutely no freaking sense and was unsatisfying. I started fast forwarding a lot starting ep 5, agh just like Wish You. I remember people were hoping this would have a cool twist like Tommy’s a mermaid but no lol and didn’t even give me the celebrity/commoner trope properly agh. Also the only character I liked was the scammer girl she was so cute and terrible 
Summary And Upcoming Plans
A weird month where I liked some of the stuff I watched (Love Mechanics, Badhaai Do, Eclipse Episodes 1 - 3) but also a lot of stuff I finished but didn’t like or just didn’t finish.
Currently Watching:
Love and Leashes which I should’ve finished already (how am I on my 3rd day of watching this 2 hour movie) but I’m distracted I guess. Hopefully I’ll finish it today.
The Eclipse which I’m having a lot of fun with but can’t believe I have to wait a week to get like 40-45 minutes of content T.T At least Episode 4 is coming out tomorrow! Even though it means we’re just even closer to school starting
Gonna continue watching some Korean shows (Out of Breath and Our Beloved Summer are on the list). Then gonna go for Thai BLs again but mostly like chill, cute ones (21 Days Theory, My Secret Love, Unforgotten Night, SIMM, What If, etc) since The Eclipse is more plot-heavy.
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winetae · 5 years ago
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wall to wall (m.) 02
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— female reader x hoseok
— smut, porn star!au
— sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification, role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, anal sex, sex toys, face fucking, double penetration, erotic massages, humiliation, degradation, porn star type dirty talk, squirting, creampie, lots of cum (and oil!)
— 19.7k 
… 
Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman. 
Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.
↳  or, my contribution to the lights, camera, action! collab : )
part 01 | part 02 | part 03
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author’s note | part 2 is finally here ! ! ty to jordan who has encouraged me literally every step of the way and to ella for supplying a never ending amount of hoseok gifs and pics when i most needed it :’) i’m sorry again for cutting the chapter into two parts but seeing as this entire chunk only amounted to 1/3 of my outline for part two it’s safe to say i would have never finished this fic otherwise ;;
(!) if you are particularly sensitive to humiliation/ degradation then maybe u should skip the smut scene bc jdjffjkfkddkd cries in tears of heaux 
SCENE 03 - PULP FRICTION. TAKE 02. ROLL A.
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It’s hard to guess how a project will be perceived by the general public. Sometimes a xxx feature film everyone believed would do well sells less than expected, and with online pirating becoming such a rampant and common occurrence, it’s harder to measure the impact of your work. Views and numbers are no longer a reliable indicator of one’s popularity. You’re lucky that you’re signed under such a big talent agency because at least you’re guaranteed regular paychecks, regardless of how well you perform. But to survive in this industry you’re conscious that you need more than that.
According to Seokjin and his expert advice, fans are the ones who will keep an adult entertainer’s career afloat for longer than the average six months. It doesn’t matter how good-looking or well endowed an actor is; if fans aren’t interested and invested, there’s a slim chance that they’ll pay money from their own pockets to view your work. And in order to build such a strong and dedicated fan base, you need one of several things: regular content and an active social media account.
It’s a careful line to tread; not enough online interaction can make people lose interest, but so can overexposure.
You’re patiently waiting for what Seokjin baptizes “The Big Breakthrough” - the decisive project that will propel you into superstardom. None of your videos have ever garnered that type of traction, however, and you’ve been stuck repeating the same old recycled scenarios of plumbers/pizza delivery boys coming over to get the fuck of their life.
When your latest video is uploaded online, you do your best to steer clear from social media. As much as you want to see what people think of your performance, it’s too nerve-wracking to deal with on an empty stomach. You know that if you begin scrolling through the comments, you’ll spend all day glued to your phone, constantly refreshing the page to check for feedback.
And while you aren’t the type of person who lets negative opinions affect your morale, you are nonetheless worried that your time in the industry is about to run out. Lately, the thought lingers ominously in the corners of your mind.
In times like these, exercise is one of the best distractions, second to maybe sex.
Pia, the yoga instructor, walks you through several routines, bending your body this way and that, until your head feels pleasantly blank, devoid for once of any stress and self-doubt. The hour long hot yoga class puts your overthinking mind to rest. In that moment even the notion of time ceases to matter.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.
The instructor turns off his meditation playlist while the room empties out, soft chattering replacing the chirping of birds and the sound of cascading water. Slowly, mind still fuzzy around the edges, you gather your belongings and head straight to the vending machine to get a much needed dose of caffeine.
As you dig around the contents of your purse for spare change, someone comes up from behind and taps your shoulder.
“Eep!” You catch your bag before it can slip from your grasp. “What—”
“Shit, sorry!”
When you spin around, hands clutched protectively over your chest to keep your heart rate steady, you don’t expect to come face to face with Hoseok, of all people.
He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to give you a scare. I, um, recognized you from afar and thought I’d come say hi.”
Now that the initial shock has faded, you’re free to admire the sight in front of you without any distractions.
As handsome as Hoseok looks under the bright studio lights with his hair styled and make-up applied, there’s something undeniably appealing about the way he appears now - with his hair mussed up and sweatpants riding dangerously low on his hips. While you normally prefer someone who puts more effort into their appearance, there’s something attractive and unpretentious about his casual demeanor that intrigues you.
Heat surges to the apple of your cheeks when you realize that you’re being too blatant with your ogling. Your eyes settle on his face - a safe zone, one that won’t cause any misunderstandings. It’s a nice sight to look at. Hoseok’s face is pretty, the absence of powder and contour not taking away from his handsomeness in the least. His skin glows in a way that can only be achieved post-workout or after an intense orgasm.
This train of thought brings you down a slippery slope. All too soon, your mind supplies images of his long cock filling you up over and over and over again, his lips whispering praise and filth in the same breath. Your gaze flits to his mouth as you recall how red and swollen they’d been after kissing you senseless, how sticky and wet they’d felt against your own, the taste of your own succulence bleeding into your mouth as your breaths intermingled.
“You’re - yes.” You clear your throat, embarrassed by the way you’d quickly let your thoughts spiral out of control. “It’s fine, you just - caught me off guard. How’ve you been?”
Since you last dicked me down, goes unsaid.
“Just finished teaching a class a few minutes ago. I’ve got a 30 minute break before the next one starts.” He checks his watch. “Well, eleven minutes now.”
“You teach here?” You raise your brows, taken aback by his revelation.  
Not that it isn’t uncommon for adult entertainers to work two jobs - or more. You’ve run into a variety of cases since joining the industry. Some do porn on the side, as a hobby or as a way to make a quick buck. They quit the moment porn becomes tedious or when they’ve made enough money to pay back their loans. For you, however, it’s not like that. What started off as amateur cam work has now become your whole life. You can’t imagine doing anything else, even if it means going against your family members’ wishes. They could go suck on a rancid cock, for all you cared.
“Yep, sure do. I teach the morning Pilates class on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Funny how I’ve never run into you before, huh?”
He takes a few coins out of his left pocket and inserts them into the vending machine. “Here, get whatever you want.”
“You don’t—”
“My treat.”
You want to argue but Hoseok’s too beguiling for his own good. It doesn’t take much for you to be won over; Hoseok’s smile widens and you’re a goner.
It’s that easy.
You’re not sure if it’s because you’ve seen each other naked before or if the earlier yoga session has successfully weakened your defenses, but you’re not as wary as you usually would be around people you don’t know well. Distrust runs in your veins yet something about Hoseok has you lowering your guard.  
Based on your observations, there’s nothing calculated behind his gestures and mannerisms. The blinding grin, the jokes, the way people easily get pulled into his magnetic field - it’s not a facade or an act or a fluke. It’s just the way he is.
Hoseok leans against the vending machine and watches you press in the numbers for your order. From the corner of your eye, you see him studying your profile with a degree of intensity that makes you self-conscious. You swallow down the urge to fidget.
And it’s - silly. He’s seen you bare and at your most exposed, has kissed and touched the entirety of your body from head to toe, but this quiet moment feels strangely intimate, more so than when he’d slid his cock inside of you for the first time. Perhaps it’s due to the absence of cameras and prying eyes or the knowledge that right now you’re both real people, stripped of your porn star persona exterior.
Your eyes meet.
There’s nothing predatory or hungry about his gaze. The passion and the love he’d expressed so naturally during your filmed scenes are no longer detectable. Right now he’s Jung Hoseok, not a character with a role to play. This is all him - the dark circles, the relaxed smile, the slight slouch in his shoulders.
“About—” He clears his throat. “About the other day. The guy that was with you...”
You know without needing clarification who and what he’s talking about. You run your tongue across your row of teeth, wiping away the cheap coffee’s aftertaste, and nod for him to continue.
“He give you a hard time?” Hoseok’s eyes don’t stray from yours. He looks concerned. Serious. “Afterwards I - I regretted leaving so soon. I didn’t want to - I wasn’t sure. But, regardless, I should have made sure you were okay before leaving you alone with him.”
“Oh.”
Realization sinks in. Your eyes widen and you splutter, flustered. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. Jimin - he’s my boyfriend.”
It’s hard to appreciate the concern when all you feel is shocked that someone could misinterpret your relationship for a perverted staff member preying on an unsuspecting porn actress. Although it’s unfortunately common practice in the industry, it’s so far removed from what you share with Jimin that you’re at a loss for words.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Hoseok immediately rubs his face in embarrassment. “I thought - sorry. I’m a dumbass. Ignore me.”
“It’s -”  You shake your head. “It’s fine.”
An awkward silence ensues.
You occupy the void by sipping on the bitter vending machine coffee, your eyes glued to your toenails peeking out the top of your sandals. Any other time, you’d fret over the chipping nail polish and rush to schedule an appointment at the nail salon, but your thoughts are so jumbled up that you can barely string a coherent sentence together.
Jimin - he isn’t anything like what Hoseok’s implying. Implied. You know this. But the fact that someone could mistake him as such doesn’t sit right with you. You want to defend him but at the same time you don’t know what to say.
“I just,” he sighs, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen it happen before. I’m sorry I assumed the worst. I guess I’m too paranoid for my own good. I hope I didn’t offend you too much. Or him.”
“No - I’m - I understand.” You give him a small smile to let him know you don’t harbor any ill feelings over the mistake. Hoseok seems so genuinely sorry about the entire situation that it’s impossible to hold it against him.
It’s possible, you think. To misinterpret your relationship with Jimin. The situation back then had been so tense - you remember that better than anyone. Given the context, Hoseok had every right to be mistrustful, especially when no one had bothered to set the record straight.
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“There’s no harm done.” You hesitate before continuing, “I’m that way too, you know. I tend to think the worst of people when I probably shouldn’t. I thought - I was worried about you at first, too. When we met. Not because - it wasn’t anything against you personally. I’m just distrustful. But I’m glad - that it was you and not someone else.”
His posture relaxes. “Thank you. I’m glad that it was you, too. And that I was able to prove you wrong about me. With the shit you hear and see happening on set… I don’t blame you for being on your guard.”
“Yeah. Maybe we’ll - oh. I think someone’s calling you.”
Hoseok follows your line of sight to where a small group of his students are huddled behind the glass panel separating the Pilates classroom from the hallway leading down to the changing rooms. They’re all female and look around your age, maybe younger. The one who had been waving her arms wilts under the attention of her teacher, blush high on her cheeks, while her group of friends dissolve into a fit of giggles.
“Ah. That’s my cue.” Hoseok sighs in apology, the corner of his lips tugged downwards into a pout. “Sorry. Would’ve loved to get coffee and catch up but alas. Duty calls.”
“Next time.”
“Yeah, definitely. I’ll hold you up to that. And it’ll be proper coffee next time! Promise.”
“Okay, deal,” you agree easily. “I’ll buy.”
He looks somewhat offended. “What - no, that’s not what I meant.”
“It’s only fair.” You gesture at the half-empty plastic coffee cup still warm against your palm.
Hoseok opens his mouth to object but a short-haired woman pokes his head out the open door. “Yo, teach! Wasn’t class supposed to start five minutes ago?”
“I’m coming!” Hoseok shouts back, waving his student back inside. “Arrogant brat.”
“Go, go!” You urge, holding yourself from physically pushing him towards the classroom. His group of students look like they’re willing to jump you if you keep hogging his attention.
“We’ll Rock Paper Scissors it!” He says while jogging backwards. “Gotta run but see you around, yeah?”
Your lips pull into an amused smile as you watch him retreat back to his classroom. Through the glass panel, you can see the horde of girls flock around him, each vying for his attention in different ways. You’re especially impressed by how one almost succeeds in drowning Hoseok in her generous cleavage.
The sight of Hoseok dealing with thirsty college girls is so ridiculous you can’t help but giggle. You’re tempted to attend one of his classes just to watch them all trip over each other in an attempt to seduce him. Maybe you could even learn a thing or two.
With that thought in mind, you leave the gym center in high spirits, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to tackle on whatever hurdles the day decides to throw your way. You hum along to a top 40 hit they constantly play on the radio and decide to stop by your favorite restaurant to get take-out before heading home.
As you get into your car, you turn on your phone you’d disregarded all morning and are immediately notified of five missed calls and several unread text messages. More than half are - unsurprisingly - from your agent. You’re tempted to ignore him for an hour or two longer but you know how he gets once his patience runs thin.
“Don’t tell me you were out with Jimmy again,” Seokjin groans once you decide to call him back.
“I was with Hoseok, actually.”
“Hoseok?” Seokjin instantly perks up on the other side of the line. “As in, Jung Hoseok? J-Hope? Your baby daddy? That Hoseok?”
You contemplate ending the call.
Begrudgingly you concur, “Yes. That one.”
“Oooooh. Do tell,” he eggs, the smugness in his tone so thick that you can visualize it.
“It wasn’t - whatever scandalous thought you’re thinking. He works at the gym I go to. What are the chances, right?”
“What are the chances indeed.” Despite the lack of juicy gossip, he sounds pleased. “The news I rang you for earlier involves him.”
“How so?”
“Your video with Hoseok has been the number 1 trending video on Bang Gang’s home page since this morning!” He squeals, enthusiasm making the volume of his voice raise by a notch. “People are eating that romantic insemination stuff for breakfast and lunch. The views on this are insane! We haven’t gotten such a big reaction since the Agust D teacher-student role play and that was ages ago.”
“Wh- Are you serious?!”
Unable to contain the elation that surges through your chest, your face breaks out into a giant grin.
You’re admittedly the first to say that the number of views doesn’t equate to one’s talent or prowess in bed, but you also can’t completely disregard what this particular achievement implies...
While belonging to a reputable agency has its perks, it also entails continuous competition with big names. Your coworkers are also your competitors. Every month the most successful porn stars are rewarded and praised, whilst the ones who rake in the least amount of views are cast aside and are fated to fade into anonymity.
As much as you hate to acknowledge it, you’ve never had the support or interest it takes to contend for 1st place on any popularity polls or rankings of the sort. On Wednesdays, it so happens that the number one trending video spot is usually occupied by a popular femdom porn star who’s been in the game long enough to have secured a loyal fanbase.
Seokjin understands and empathizes with your excitement more than anybody.
“Yes, I’m serious! I think this is It, you know? Your Big Breakthrough, the moment we’ve been waiting for. You’ve been doing well so far but I think we’ll be able to go mainstream with this,” he chatters on, excitement building with every word. “Director Ryu said he’d personally call you up later to congratulate you, so don’t turn off your phone and ignore your calls, okay? I think he wants to ask you to film in his next movie but he didn’t discuss the details with me. Whatever it is - please say yes. I know the guy is a little pompous old fart but he really has an eye for this sort of thing. Casting you and Hoseok in the same film was the work of God. The chemistry between the two of you is unreal, no wonder people are jacking off to this at 10 am while they eat their cereal.”
You think it’s too early to rejoice in the success of your video considering the majority of the viewers are sleeping or busy at work - but when THE SPERMINATOR retains its number one ranking for the remainder of the week, you know your achievement deserves to be properly celebrated.
True to Seokjin’s word, Director Ryu does end up calling you. He wants to work with you and Hoseok again for a new film - and possibly more.
“A multi-film contract? You want to sign one with me?”
“How could I not? You’re both naturals and work well together. More importantly, the camera loves you. And people are on board with the pairing already! I think it’s a good idea to capitalize on their interest, don’t you think?”
It doesn’t take much more to convince you — not that you need any convincing at this point.
You refuse to be a flash-in-the-pan star. Although you admittedly had your reservations at first, the unexpected success of the last film is all Ryu needs to persuade you.
And - you like Hoseok. It goes without saying that there are far worse people to be partnered up with. Besides, it’s easier to work with co-stars you’ve starred in movies with previously for multiple reasons. Your acting is much more likely to come off as natural if you’re already acquainted with the dick that’s about to split you open - at least, that’s what you tell yourself.
When you mention the possibility of working again with Hoseok, your boyfriend doesn’t seem to share your enthusiasm.
“So it’s not a one time thing?” He’s not looking at you directly, his attention fixed instead on the freshly brewed coffee he nurses in his hands.  
“I mean—” You smile tentatively. “Director Ryu hasn’t said for how long he’ll keep hiring us for his projects. Maybe - maybe he’ll keep the format and hire different actors in the future? He - he didn’t really say. I don’t think he has much of an idea himself. He’s very...peculiar.”
You force out a laugh, but your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere falls flat.
“I see.” Jimin brings the coffee cup to his mouth to hide his grimace.
You don’t need to see his dejected expression to know that he isn’t pleased with this development.
“Do you - is there something wrong with Hoseok?” You hesitate, unsure of how he’ll reply.
Jimin’s never insisted you step down from a project before or expressed his dissatisfaction with any of your ‘artistic choices’, although you always imagined that someday, somewhere down the line, he might. Compared to your past dalliances, Jimin is understanding and empathetic. You don’t expect him to be perfect, however, especially when you yourself are far from that. Everyone must have their own personal limits, right? It’s unfair to ask Jimin to be accepting all the time.
It’s just that...the timing is bad.
You want to take his feelings into consideration, but you’re also aware that this might be your last opportunity to get your name out there once and for all. Your previous works have never tanked, so to speak, but they’d mostly gone by unnoticed. While you’ve managed to make ends meet in the past, such anonymity cannot go on for much longer if you want to remain in this line of work.
Your lipstick wears off as you bite your lower lip. Silence hangs heavy in the air.
Jimin sets down his cup of coffee and averts his gaze.
“No. No, there’s nothing wrong with him.”
You breathe out in relief, only now realizing you’d been holding in your breath as you awaited his answer.  
“It’s a bit difficult,” he admits after a pause. “Watching both of you together... Not because it’s bad! You did really good last time. You always do, but - saying ‘I love you’, that kind of stuff, it’s - I don’t know. It’s not your fault, though! I just need some time to adjust. Next time shouldn’t be as strange - since I know what to expect...”
You blink slowly as your brain registers the confession. His words echo in your ears and a strong feeling of déjà-vu washes over you. He’d said something along those lines before, hadn’t he?
Jimin shrugs like it’s no big deal before continuing, “As for Hoseok... He seems like a good person, I guess. I don’t think he’s the problem. Whether it’s him or another guy...” He sighs. “I think I just need to work this out on my own. It’s not like I can ask you to turn down a job offer because of me, right?”
Guilt makes your stomach turn. He’s right. As much as you want to respect his feelings, you can’t bring yourself to turn down the job for his sake. Does that make you selfish? Does he think less of you for it?
“Alright...” When you reach out to take his hand in yours, his skin is surprisingly cold to the touch. “You’ll tell me if it ever bothers you, okay? Filming this - or anything else. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with what I do...”
You’re not sure what you’ll do if that moment ever comes to pass. Work is your number one priority in life. Many of your relationships haven’t worked out because of that very reason but your past lovers’ dissatisfaction hadn’t been enough to change your mindset. After all, work is what helps put money on the table, not love. You shake your head, as if the action will help you get rid of your stressful thoughts.  
Jimin nods as he interlaces his fingers with yours. On normal days, holding hands together puts your mind at rest. You love the way his hand fits in yours, the different skin tones blending into one.
Right now, his pale hand feels unnaturally cold against your own. It feels like winter itself is embracing you and you repress a shiver.
Maybe as his girlfriend it’s not the right choice to make, but — you can’t falter now. It physically pains you to admit it but Seokjin’s worrying isn’t unfounded. Your career is stagnant, your projects predictable and boring. You’re not bad at your job, but you don’t stand out amidst the sea of pretty girls hoping to make a name for themselves.
There’s no guarantee that Director Ryu’s new project will be as successful as the first. You’re no stranger to false hopes; there’s a chance that Seokjin’s wishful thinking might never amount to anything. Even so, you want to give it a shot. Not trying feels too much like giving up and giving up is not an option you’re willing to consider, not when you’ve already put so much on the line.
You’re not a quitter. Seokjin had warned you from day one that it wouldn’t be easy and you’d taken his lessons and warnings to heart. You’d become an adult entertainer fully aware of the trials and tribulations you’d have to face and had been prepared to make the necessary sacrifices in order to achieve your goals.
But are the risks truly worth it? Looking at Jimin’s dejected expression, you’re not so sure anymore.
.
.
.
They’ve really gone all out this time, you muse as you cast a cursory glance at your surroundings. A small, electric waterfall fountain sits in the far right corner and crimson colored scented candles are dispersed all around the elaborate massage parlor set-up, dousing the room in a cosy, amber glow. It’s a surprising sight because porn sets are famous for never focusing on the details. Viewers are here for the sex, not the generic backdrop of a rented room or hotel suite.
Director Ryu vehemently protests.
“That’s precisely what sets apart my works from your average pornography film. I want the viewer to be completely immersed in the movie they’re watching. Porn is too constricting and underwhelming a word. What I’m creating is a feast for the eyes, one that leaves a lasting impression after consumption.”
“Ah... Yes.” You try (and fail) to sound impressed.  
“People want to believe the sex is real, even if it’s just for an hour.” He sighs deeply, sounding pained, like explicating such a simple fact isn’t worthy of his time. “They need the escape and it’s our job to make it happen. A few extra candles might not make a colossal difference at first glance. But that’s where you’re wrong! It’s never been about the candles. It’s about the ambiance! The visual experience!”
It’s a pity the new budget doesn’t extend to your wardrobe, you remark internally as your gaze drops to observe the stylists’ pick of the day.
For the upcoming scene, you’ve been instructed to squeeze into a tight, baby pink shirt that stretches obscenely over your bust like something straight out of a frat boy’s wet dream. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for hitting the gym religiously because your clothes—or lack thereof—put everything on display. The cotton material of your shirt is so thin, you’re surprised the stitches haven’t popped out, while the denim bottoms you sport are so tiny that you could hardly qualify them as shorts. Although—you suppose that there isn’t any use debating over semantics. It’s not as if they’ll stay on long enough for it to matter.
The scenario that you’ll be acting out today is pretty straight-forward. You stop by the parlor to cash in a voucher gifted by a generous and thoughtful friend. Hoseok, who plays the role of an erotic masseuse, gives you a deep tissue body massage worthy of a five star review on Yelp.
Director Ryu is extremely proud of the pitch. His spectacles glint as he pushes them up the bridge of his long nose.
“We’re gonna call it My Bare Lady. Haha, get it?” He gloats. “It’ll be different from our last shoot - the both of you aren’t supposed to be acquainted with each other at all. In fact, there won’t be any romance. We’re aiming for something new because as artists, it’s our duty to reinvent ourselves every day. Complacency is the enemy of creativity.”
At the mention of Hoseok, your gaze flits over in his direction.
His brown hair, two shades lighter than the last time you’d run into him, is swept to the side, giving him a professional and tidy appearance. He’s swapped his workout attire for beige scrub pants and a matching shirt. The color compliments the glow of his tan and the cut of the uniform is flattering to his figure. Diretor Ryu’s speech continues despite your wavering focus.
“—visual stimulation. That’s why one shouldn’t underestimate the proper use of props. A believable setting sets the tone for the rest of the scene. If you don’t believe the role you’ve been given, then why should the audience?”
“Mhm,” you nod here and there but you’ve long stopped paying attention to his one-sided speech.
Your eyes linger on Hoseok’s arms and the dimples that appear every time he laughs. You’re not the only one who stares. A small group of admirers flock to him like bees swarming around a rare and exotic flower.
You’d noticed it before but today confirms it; Hoseok’s presence is riveting. It’s not the first time today your gaze has strayed his way. More than once, you find your eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame only to quickly avert your gaze whenever your eyes meet. Each time, the right side of his mouth quirks into a half-smile, the beginning of a question forming on his lips.
It’s embarrassing to be caught red-handed gawking but, in your defense, you aren’t the only one who ogles him—and many of them are far less discreet than you try to be, some gazes curious, others downright lecherous.
It bothers you. What exactly do you and everyone else find so fascinating about his character? He’s good-looking, sure—but you’re no stranger to handsome and pretty co-stars with nicely shaped dicks. You can’t put a finger on what sets him apart from the rest.
The gaffer comes over and momentarily interrupts the flow of Director Ryu’s monologue with a personal inquiry. Thank God. You use the opportunity to slip away, grateful that someone has put an end to your misery. As thankful as you are to the director for the career opportunity, you could do without his long-winded speeches that never seem to end.  
“Hey, Hoseok.”
His smile widens, the corners dimpling the moment he spots you. “Hey! It’s been a while. Who would’ve thought we’d get to work again so soon, huh?”
“I didn’t think our last movie would do so well, honestly.”
Without its success, who knows what kind of movie you’d be participating in right now? Another re-hashed version of ‘BABYSITTER GETS CREAMED’ type scenario, most probably.
“I guess that’s a testament to your acting skills, right?”
You smile back, sheepish but nevertheless pleased. It always feels nice to be complimented, especially on days like today when you’re feeling less confident than usual.
“You changed up your hair.”
“Yeah! I thought I needed a change.” He threads his fingers through his locks self-consciously. “It looks fine, right?”
“It does!” you agree with an enthusiastic nod.
Jimin, who had insisted to be present on set today, hovers on the edge of your periphery. In the back of your mind you know he means well—that his presence is meant to be a source of support and security. On a typical day, you’re relieved that someone you trust is close by in case the situation escalates. While you’ve never had any horrific experiences, there have been the occasional uncomfortable encounters behind the scenes. Thankfully, Seokjin or Jimin have always stepped in before whichever entitled asshat could get too handsy.
But for the first time, his presence doesn’t comfort you the way it usually does.
Your smile becomes stiff.
The last thing you want is for Jimin to misunderstand the situation... Despite his claims of not having any problems with you shooting again with Hoseok, you can’t forget the stony expression on your boyfriend’s face as he had stared your co-star down, his grip around your waist strong and possessive.
“Are you okay?” Hoseok inquires, noticing your change in attitude. Worry creases his brow. He takes a step forward as if to check up on you.
“I’m okay!” You wave your hands around in the air, if only to maintain the distance separating your figures.
Despite your energetic reassurances, Hoseok looks unconvinced. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in concern.
You wrack your head for an acceptable excuse. “Maybe I have pre-performance jitters? It’s nothing serious, though!”
It’s not too far from the truth, either. You feel more nervous than usual... Maybe because you’re aware that today’s shoot will most likely make or break your career. If the results prove to be disappointing, you don’t want to imagine what that means for your future.
You shake your head, refusing to accept any talks of early retirement.
But what other choice will you have, your inner voice argues. If no one is interested in viewing your works, no production company will want to book you for their movies. Even if you’re able to shoot half a dozen films after this failed attempt, the interest and support from viewers and higher-ups will soon dry up.
Hoseok’s features soften.
“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but if my opinion means anything... I think you’re really amazing.” His deep brown eyes reflect sincerity. “I haven’t had this much fun performing with anyone before and it’s not just ‘cos you’re fucking hot.” He laughs to cover up his embarrassment. “Maybe it’s a bit of a reach to compare the two, but porn is a bit like dancing in a way. There’s a choreography to follow, a certain rhythm and mood you have to get into. But the most important part is the chemistry and trust between you and your partner. And you - when I perform with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m acting at all. Not many people have that ability. For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty special.”
“T-thanks,” you stutter in reply, taken aback by his candor. “I appreciate that.”
You’re not the only one caught off-guard by Hoseok’s frankness. He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles to fill up the momentary lapse in conversation. A bashful smile inches its way across his face, but surprisingly he doesn’t break eye contact.
You quickly change subjects, unwilling to acknowledge the slight fluttering in your stomach.
“...So, you dance?”
It’s not the smoothest transition, but Hoseok’s face instantly lights up.
“Yes! I mean,” he pauses and clears his throat. “Not professionally. I minored in dance. But it’s something I definitely enjoy, you know, to blow off some steam. Ah, wait a sec—”
He takes out his phone to show you short video clips of his dancing. He pulls up his instagram account and scrolls through an eclectic mix of mirror selfies showcasing his bold fashion choices, dog pics, and videos of him working out and dancing.
“Here’s a recent one.”
You don’t know much about dance but in spite of your little knowledge in the subject, your eyes stay transfixed on the screen in front of you. “Whoa...”
The way he moves is enthralling, for lack of a better word. You know from experience that his body is flexible and agile, lithe and strong, but seeing it in action like this leaves you speechless, momentarily robbed of coherency. You can’t even describe it. His execution of the choreography is sharp and powerful, yet his body doesn’t look rigid. On the contrary, his movements are surprisingly fluid and he never misses a single beat. You watch in astonishment as he pushes himself off of his knees after bending backwards in one fell swoop.
“Eh? Is it even possible to move your body that way?” Surely if you try to mimic him, you’ll look like a flailing chicken. “That can’t be safe...”
Hoseok laughs at your shocked expression. “It takes a lot of practice. You should come to a workshop one day! My friend teaches beginners. He’d be glad if you could join. The more the merrier, right? You don’t need to know any of the basics... And if you’re worried about people poking fun—don’t. Dancing isn’t a competition or anything.”
“I dunno.” You hand him back his phone after watching the video loop back for a second time. “I think my back would crack if I attempted any of that.”
“I think you would do really well! You’re pretty flexible and I don’t think you need to worry about stamina. Your core muscles are also really well developed. Based on what I’ve seen, you have a good sense of balance and beat awareness, so even if you’ve never danced before, you have the body and disposition for it.”
“Well... I guess I—”
“Hey.” Jimin interrupts, plump lips curved into a polite smile. You try not to let your surprise show; you hadn’t even noticed him approaching. He kisses your cheek and slides his hand into yours, clasping it between his own. “Sorry to interrupt, doll. Seokjin wanted to have a word with you before the shoot.”
“Oh.” You blink, your eyes darting back and forth between Jimin and Hoseok. “Um...if you don’t mind?”
“That’s straight,” Hoseok steps back, shoving his hands down his pockets. He shoots you a tentative smile. “I’ll catch you later.”
You feel bad for ditching him mid-conversation after he’d been so nice, but you know how annoying your agent can get when ignored for too long.
Jimin’s fingers tighten around yours. When you look up, he’s pouting, his lips pursed and brows drawn together.
“Is something on your mind?”
You can see the hesitation flicker across his face. When he finally meets your gaze, his expression is troubled.
“It’s nothing...” He looks away again and the grip he has on your hand loosens.
“Hm.” You swallow down any further inquiries, worried you’ll upset him.
“What was that about, anyway?” he asks casually, trying his best to look uninterested. “You and Hoseok look like you’re getting along well.”
“Yeah.” The memory of your previous conversation makes you smile softly despite yourself. “He’s a nice guy.”
“I can imagine.” Jimin mutters under his breath. Before you have time to question him again, he straightens his spine, his features twisting into an apologetic expression. “Look, I gotta help setting up the cameras. I’ll see you after the shoot.”
“Ah... Alright.” You fight to keep the disappointment of your face. Since you only have a few minutes before filming begins, you’d been hoping to spend it with him.
As if reading your mind, Jimin leans in and kisses you, his plush lips soft and familiar against your own. You expect him to pull away after a few seconds but his left hand slots itself behind your neck, bringing you in closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand angles your head to the side, giving him more access, and he doesn’t waste any time before brushing his tongue against the roof of your mouth.
You respond to the kiss as if on auto-pilot, but your thoughts are all jumbled in your head. Jimin’s always been a good kisser but he’s rarely kissed you quite like this. His style is more of a slow-burn, the kind that slowly creeps up on you and leaves your whole body numb with pleasure. Every press of his lips feels like a silent prayer of worship and each swipe of his tongue tastes like adoration. You like that he takes his time, like you’re not just a quick meal to curb his hunger but a delicacy worthy of being savored.
Right now, this kiss feels unfamiliar. Urgency replaces devotion. Perhaps it’s because he’s short on time, but his touch is hurried and sloppy. He bites your lower lip, hard enough for it to hurt, and licks into your mouth when you mewl out a gasp of surprise.
“I wish I could just mark you up,” he pants against your parted lips. They feel tender when you smack them closed.
“The makeup artist is going to strangle you for messing up my lipstick.” You fake a scowl. You’re not half-wrong, though. Once she sees how swollen they’ve become she’s bound to take out her frustration on the closest available victim. “If you marked me for real, she’d probably kill you. Don’t tempt her.”
He chuckles and pulls back, letting his hands fall to his side. His eyes dart to somewhere behind your shoulder, his smile curving into a smirk.
“You’re right.” He sighs, looking back at you. “But that’s easier said than done. You’re hard to resist... Anyone would agree.”
Something dark clouds his eyes but whatever it is, it’s gone in the next blink.
You laugh, pleased nonetheless by his flattery. “Didn’t you say you had to help set up? You’re going to end up in trouble because of me…”
Jimin snorts but backs up all the same. “Don’t worry about me. Besides, you’re worth getting in trouble for.”
Someone behind you gags dramatically. “Absolutely sickening.”
When you whirl around, your agent shoots you a disgusted glare. “I was wondering what was taking you so long but I should’ve known you two were out here fabricating babies. Have you no shame?”
“I’ll see you after the shoot!” Jimin says quickly, eager to get away from Seokjin and his sharp tongue.
“See you.” You smile sweetly, ignoring Seokjin’s grumbling. You feel a pang of jealousy as you watch him scurry out of sight. If only you could avoid Seokjin’s pre-performance motivational speeches...
“Anyways.” Seokjin looks noticeably less irritated once Jimin is gone. “I wanted to check up on you before filming could begin. How’s your ass doing?”
You don’t bother hiding your grimace. “Squeaky clean and stretched.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He sounds proud. “Don’t make that face. It’s your first anal scene after all. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?”
By ‘be prepared’ he means following a strict diet prior to shooting, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a colonic, stretching out your asshole for a good thirty minutes using a fuck ton of lube, and constantly rehydrating yourself throughout the day to the point where you’d gone to the bathroom more times than you could count on one hand.
You’re never this thorough with prep before having anal but apparently that’s the difference between fucking in the privacy of your own home and on camera.
“There’s a reason why cleanliness is one of the fundamentals of anal sex, especially when shooting porn. It’s a pain...in the ass...but this way, no one sees something they’d rather not see,” had explained Seokjin after giving you a non-exhaustive list of detailed steps to follow. You suppose there’s logic behind his reasoning. Due to the magic of 4k-quality videos, viewers can now easily see everything, down to the sweat droplets dotting your hairline and any makeup-covered skin imperfections, so you don’t want to imagine what they’ll notice once the camera zooms in on your back entrance.
“Eventually you’ll get used to squeezing water out your bum on the regular.” He shrugs. “You’ll also start to avoid certain foods on your own. The dietary restrictions aren’t that bad, all things considered, and your body will thank you for eating more spinach than you’re used to. Greens are good for your health even if they taste like yuck.”
Athough his suggestions are well-intended, you don’t need another 25 minute speech on all the know-hows of filming anal sex. The first time had been more than enough.
“Thanks for the advice!” you interject right as he opens his mouth to continue his counseling. “That reminds me I need to get this butt plug out of my ass before we start shooting.”
Seokjin sighs. “That would be preferable, yes.”
He doesn’t need to know that you’ve taken out the butt plug in the bathroom half an hour ago. Any excuse will do, as long as you’re spared from listening to his passionate discourse on the benefits of high-fibre food diets and his long list of enema tutorial video recommendations.
The fussing, you think, is unnecessary. You’re not worried about the upcoming sex scene, even if it will be the first time someone other than your partner sees you in that position. No, what troubles you is the possibility of the audience growing tired of seeing you onscreen now that they’ve witnessed you take it up the ass. Boredom is the reason why so many of your peers are forced to end their careers prematurely, after all. Why else is Seokjin so adamant about you pacing yourself and not filming everything there is to film right off the bat? You’ve always held off shooting anal, double penetration and the likes, for that very reason. Although you have no qualms with the act itself, you’re worried that you’re now one step closer to retirement.
The thoughts sit on your shoulders like a heavy weight as you get ready for the scene to come. You listen to Director Ryu’s instructions as he describes the scenario’s key points, your character’s motives, and what sex positions you should include before the scene comes to an end.
“The rest is up to you,” he says with an encouraging nod. “I want the words to come from the heart! Let yourself be a vessel, a way for your character to express their innermost desires.”
“Leave it up to us.” Hoseok’s smile radiates confidence.
“I like your enthusiasm!” Director Ryu approves, clapping his hands together. He misses the way his two leading actors exchange exasperated glances over his shoulder. “Good, then we’re all set? Remember where the cameras are positioned, please, or else we’ll have to reshoot to get the right angles.”
“Got it.” You nod, eager to get this show on the road. Between him and Seokjin, your ears are about to fall off from the incessant chattering. Even the camera men are starting to grow restless.
Speaking of... You meet Jimin’s gaze, the sides of your mouth upturning the moment you spot him. As usual, he looks slightly out of place standing between the other crew members, his white, ironed dress shirt neatly tucked into his black pants providing a stark contrast with his co-workers’ unkempt appearance.  
Jimin mirrors your smile and your shoulders immediately relax. A lot of people may not understand why you’d allow your boyfriend on set while you’re fucking someone else, but his presence brings you a strange sense of comfort that’s hard to put into words.
The sound of your name being called pulls you from your line of thought.
“Can you scoot over to the right? Just a little.” Director Ryu orders while glancing at the monitor. “Yes, that’s much better. And can we fix the lighting, please? My shadow’s getting picked up by the camera.”
Now that the start of the shoot is right around the corner, your stomach cramps up with a nervous kind of anticipation. Your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth and even when you swallow, the unpleasant feeling doesn’t go away.
You clasp your hands together in your lap to hide the minute trembling of your fingers. It’s strange, you think. Ever since you started working with Hoseok, you always get too wrapped in your thoughts. Not necessarily in a bad way, at least not all the time, but --
“You all good?” Hoseok asks, low enough that the mics won’t be able to pick up his questioning. “Do you need some water?”
You shake your head. “I’m good, thanks.”
He hesitates but doesn’t push. “I just wanna run this with you one last time. I know we already signed the consent forms but I’d feel better talking with you about the scene directly.”
“Oh.” You remember he’d done something similar last time, too. “Sure.”
“Anal aside, are you okay with the use of degrading names during the scene?” His eyes never leave yours, like he wants you to know how serious he is.
“I’m okay with you calling me a whore.” Your shoulders loosen up. It’s easy to relax when you’re on familiar territory. Working in this industry requires complete transparency. There’s no shame in discussing your kinks just like there’s no shame in admitting the acts you’re not comfortable performing. “As long as I can call you a slut.”
“That’s fine.” His lips quirk up, but not in a mocking or dismissing way. “I don’t really have any hard limits myself, except for what you’ve already seen on paper. Degradation is fine with me. Call my dick tiny all you want, I won’t take it to heart.”
You laugh, forgetting to keep the volume down. “I’ll keep that in mind…”
“So degradation is fine. Is humiliation okay as well? Situational and verbal?”
“I like that.” You bite your lower lip as you remember your encounter with Min Yoongi a month or so ago, how turned on you’d been from his words alone. “I’ll admit I haven’t dabbled too much in BDSM on the porn scene, but I enjoyed what I’ve done so far.”
“That’s good to know.” He raises his brow. “Ever since we received the pitch for today’s movie I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it, uh, more interesting. So to speak. But I didn’t want to take any initiatives if they made you uncomfortable. Oh, also I meant to ask if there was anything you wanted to include in the scene aside from anal sex.”
Somehow you’re not surprised he’s put thought into this. Last time you’d worked with him, he’d been overflowing with suggestions as well. Maybe because the previous filming formats aren’t as flexible, but it’s not often you meet someone so willing to exchange ideas before filming.
The change is more than welcome. For the first time, it feels like your opinion actually matters. The two of you quietly go back and forth discussing different possibilities while the filming crew finish setting up the set the way Director Ryu wants it.
“Alright,” Ryu calls, settling into the director’s chair. Somewhere in the background, the gaffer wipes off his brow. “Everyone ready to rooooollll?”
Hoseok takes a few steps back and reaches for a nearby clipboard.
Miraculously, you note distantly, the swarming of butterflies in your stomach is now gone. Your palms are no longer clammy and cold with perspiration. When you swallow, there’s no lump of nerves stuck in your throat.
Hoseok sends an encouraging smile your way right before Director Ryu yells “ACTION!” and he schools his features into a more polite, appropriate expression.
He doesn’t speak up right away, just walks over to where you’re sitting on the massage table in a leisurely manner. You open your mouth to fill the silence but he beats you to it.
“Welcome to Happy Ending Clinic, where we ensure every client leaves feeling 100% satisfied. We guarantee high quality services personally adapted to suit the needs of our every client,” Hoseok says in lieu of greeting, the lilt in his voice smooth and practiced, like he’s used to repeating this introduction multiple times throughout the day. “My name is J-Hope and today you will be in my care.”
“Nice to meet you.” You’re careful to keep your back ramrod straight, hoping the stiffness in your body will be picked up by the cameras.
The role you’re playing today is more reserved and awkward than the usual unabashed and bold characters you’re used to acting. And while it’s not your first time pretending to be coy and shy for the cameras, such behavior isn’t second nature.
His smile, whilst professional, radiates warmth. You suppose it’s meant to be reassuring.
“I will do my best to make this session unforgettable.”  
His gaze sweeps over the clipboard sitting in his hands.
“Hmmm... ______, is it?” When you nod in affirmation, he continues. “It says here it’s your first time visiting our establishment.”
You’re surprised at how naturally he adapts to the role he’s been assigned to. The words that roll off his tongue sound like his own.
“Yes... Honestly, I - I didn’t think it was necessary, but my friend insisted - I mean, she recommended I visit this place...said it would do me some good.”
You wring your hands in your lap. You’re lucky the character you’re playing today is supposed to be a little shy and rigid. Otherwise, you’re not sure Director Ryu would have let your awkward stuttering slide.
“That’s not a problem.” The lines of Hoseok’s mouth bend into a reassuring smile. “Let’s see... It says you’ve booked an hour-long session?”
“Yep.”
“Then with your permission, I’d like to take fifteen supplementary minutes to find out which massage course is best suited for a novice like you. It’ll be free of charge, of course.”
You nod, eager to get the show on the road. Given your character’s disposition, maybe you should have pretended to mull over the proposal for a few seconds more - if only for appearance’s sake - but you’re tired of all this talking. Impatience gets the best of you.
“Oh! Yes, that sounds fine.”
He pulls out several colorful mock pamphlets and hands them over for you to peruse their contents. You try not to let your astonishment show.
It’s the first time you’ve seen a prop team this devoted to their task. Although the insides of the brochures remain blank, you still can’t believe someone actually took the time to print out fake brochure covers. You appreciate the effort, even if the covers do look like they’ve been made by someone who’s looking to major in ‘graphic design is my passion.’
You hold one up at random and pretend to read through it, hoping that whoever will watch the movie later will ignore the ugly block font that spells out ‘NAUGHTY MASSAGE : FOUR HANDS EDITION.’
“Inside, you’ll find a detailed explanation on the various vegan, cruelty-free products we use. All of our treatments are oil-based and you can choose the scent of your choice. If your skin is particularly sensitive, we have essential oil-infused body butters that work just as effectively and leave the skin silky smooth to the touch. Depending on your skin type, you might be interested in testing—” He takes out several jars all while explaining the different health benefits of ylang ylang essential oil.
Once again, you’re caught off guard by his convincing performance. Even though you’ve been given several pointers by the director before filming, Hoseok is the one who ultimately calls the shots. Inwardly, you wonder how he manages to come up with such original lines on the spot. Despite not being a professional actor, Hoseok’s intuitive choices are beyond your expectations.  
The thoroughness of his explanation makes your head spin. Cruelty-free products? Body butter? You have no way of knowing whether his statements are fabricated for the sake of the vague storyline - but you suppose the credibility of his words doesn’t really matter in the end. It’s the small details he sprinkles here and there that help you immerse in the scene.  
His proficiency in acting makes all of your worries melt away. It’s hard to believe he’s only a rookie, just starting off his career, and not an acting veteran with dozens of movies under his belt.
Not wanting to be entirely overshadowed by your co-star, you furrow your eyebrows, determination set into your features.
“I’m sorry... I’ve never done this before. They all look the same to me.”
“Ah.” Still, Hoseok’s smile stays amiable and professional. “Well, let’s go about it this way - why do you think your friend insisted you visit our establishment?”
You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, your gaze dropping to the floor in order to avert his probing stare. “I - um. I haven’t had - I mean, I guess I’ve been stressed lately. More pent up than usual. I’ve tried exercising and meditating and mas- uh...well everything, honestly. But nothing seems to work. I’m snappy all the time and...frustrated.”
Today, the character you’re playing is a bit more bashful, too timid to voice her desires into spoken words. “It’s all about the tension! The build-up!” Director’s Ryu’s voice echoes in your mind as a reminder.
“I see,” Hoseok nods, taking your comments into consideration. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate the quality of your sleep?”
“A five...” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t wake up during the night, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep.”
“Do you feel any pain anywhere?”
“Pain? No, not really.” You roll your shoulders back, conscious of the way your perky chest juts out, nipples prominent through the cheap fabric. “My neck does feel sore from time to time but I think it’s because I work an office job. They say staying hunched over in front of a computer all day is bad for your health.”
His gaze roams your figure, quietly assessing. “It is.”
“May I?” he asks, taking a tentative step closer. “I think I’ll need to gauge your level of sensitivity for myself. We’ll adjust the intensity of the massage depending on how much pressure you can withstand and how your body reacts to different types of stimuli.”
Your brows lift. “Oh. Sure, why not.”
“Move back a little. A bit more.” You obey his instructions without second thoughts. “That’s perfect, thank you.”
Your legs dangle awkwardly over the edge of the massage table. You can probably close them if you wanted to, but you don’t miss an opportunity to expose yourself in front of the cameras. The shorts you’re wearing are more like tiny scraps of denim put together with the help of a few stitches. You’re certain that if someone were to really look, they’d see the outline of your pussy lips.
Hoseok walks around the table to stand behind you. The sensation is somewhat familiar—right away, you’re reminded of the first encounter with Hoseok, the one where he’d wrapped his arms around you and whispered words of love into your ear. You close your eyes and let the images flash by in quick succession. The memories all come rushing in at once—an artist’s lips painting your skin like a brush would canvas, a potter’s agile fingers molding your body from clay, a lyricist’s tongue composing sonnets into your weeping, open cunt. Your body remembers it all.
When he finally touches you, his hands radiate warmth the shadow of his memory does not.
A shudder runs down your spine.
Oblivious to your inner thoughts, Hoseok carefully gathers your hair into a ponytail and moves it out of the way. His mobility no longer restricted, he lets his slender digits travel down the slope of your neck, the pads of his fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders.
“You’re unusually tense here.” Concern colors his voice as he increases the pressure.
Suddenly the discomfort you’re to convey to the audience is no longer feigned. “Ow!”
The wince that mars your face is authentic. You try to wiggle out of his grasp to relieve the sharp ache in your shoulders. Hoseok’s grip is strong, however, and he keeps you exactly where he thinks you ought to be.
“Hmm...”
He massages your arms one by one. The circular movements he traces across your skin are a lot more gentle this time around, and you allow yourself to slowly relax under his touch. He manipulates your body like one would a rag doll, pulling your arm over your head.
“Can you reach behind, towards your neck? How about a little lower? You should feel a stretch here.” He taps at an arm muscle.
“Yeah… I can definitely feel it.”
You suspect that Hoseok’s stunt as a Pilates instructor is what’s helping him sound so experienced and natural.
“Good.” He lets out a pleased hum. “Hold the position for as long as you can.”
His hands reach around your body to squeeze your perky breasts. You gasp at the rather rough way he handles your tits. Perhaps it’s because you’ve been told to forgo a bra, but you’re much more conscious of his every action - from the way his fingers splay out, cupping the fullness of your breasts between them, to the way he kneads your mounds with his entire palm as he gropes you from behind.
“How often do you masturbate?” he asks in an almost offhand manner, his tone is more clinical than casual. The question is crude and direct enough to distract you from the way his fingers encircle your nipples through the cotton fabric of your shirt.
You recall Ryu’s earlier directions: unlike your first movie together, this tryst is not romantic in nature. The scenario that you’re acting out this time doesn’t involve sweet kisses and whispered declarations of love. Feelings aren’t on the table.
You pretend like the bitter taste you swallow down isn’t disappointment.
“Um.” You struggle to remember the initial question. Luckily, your mental buffering comes off as bashful and true to the character you’re playing. “I, uh, I guess masturbate often?”
“But it isn’t enough, is it?”
His question comes off as slightly patronizing. Before you can formulate a suitable answer, Hoseok’s fingers tweak your hardened nipples and your back bows under the pressure. You oscillate between the desire to thrust your chest out in offering, and the pressing need to flee the sharp sensations his skilled hands provoke.
“I - um!” You squirm helplessly as he continues playing with your breasts. “It isn’t!”
“Just as I thought.” He pinches both of your nipples and pulls at them until you cry out in half-pain, half-pleasure. The thin material of your shirt doesn’t dull the ache; if anything, the cotton scratches your skin, rubbing the nubs raw.
Despite your very visible discomfort, Hoseok doesn’t let go. You can only sit there obediently while he has his fun, knowing that if you wiggle too much it’ll only worsen the pain.
“Ah!”
Only then does he release them. You fight against the urge to cover your sore nipples. Your flimsy shirt hadn’t provided any protection against his rough onslaught, none at all.
“You’re quite sensitive,” he observes, giving your breasts one last squeeze.
Finished with his appraisal, he steps away and picks his clipboard up. He makes his way around the massage table, coming back into view, and scribbles something onto the paper with a ballpoint pen. He looks so absorbed in his work that you almost fall for the act.  
You worry your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. Without a bra, your hardened nipples are clearly visible through the thin shirt. They jut out in a distracting way; Hoseok’s eyes drop down for a split-second in appreciation before flickering back to the clipboard in his hands.
“Your body is wound up. It’s tense in places it shouldn’t be.”
“Is that...a bad thing?”
“No. Your case is not abnormal.” He shakes his head and offers you a reassuring smile. “Although... Hm. When was the last time you achieved an an orgasm?”
You look away, mumbling your answer in an embarrassed voice. “Last night.”
More scribbling. He taps the end of the pen against his chin, pretending to be lost in thought.
His eyes glint when he asks, “How many times did you cum?”
It’s not real - none of this is - and yet you can feel warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your chest. It’s a strange sensation, stuck somewhere between humiliation and arousal, and it makes your entire body heat up from the inside out.
“Just - Just once…”
“Look at me.”
Your eyes snap towards his on command. He looks relaxed, unbothered, like he’s discussing the weather forecast and not your masturbation habits. You want to look away but something in his stare pins you in place.
“You’re telling me the truth, right?”
“Yes! I’m not - I wouldn’t lie.”
“Good.” He smiles pleasantly, nodding to himself. “So. You came once. Did you use your fingers? Or, perhaps, a toy?”
He’s still staring at you, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while you confess your sins. Your thighs clench together and you struggle to focus on the conversation at hand.
“F-fingers.” Your breathing becomes ragged as you imagine Hoseok’s fingers replacing your imaginary ones. They’d fill you up nicely, too. Compared to your own, they’re longer, capable of reaching places yours can’t. All you’d have to do is hook your arms under your knees and keep your legs spread wide open. He doesn’t even need to take your clothes off; he could pull the seam of your shorts and underwear to the side and fuck you just like that. “I only used my fingers.”
He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t quite believe you. Somehow, that makes the fire between your legs burn hotter. It’s like - he knows you’re too cockhungry to settle for just fingers. And if a mere stranger can tell how desperate you are to get fucked, what about the rest?
“Interesting.” Hoseok’s eyes darken by the minute. “And do you prefer clitoral stimulation to penetration?”
“I-” You pause and struggle to formulate your response. Your ears feel hot. In fact - your entire face feels like it’s on fire.
The embarrassment you feel doesn’t make sense - you’ve never had any qualms discussing sex. You can talk candidly about any topic for hours on end, from the condom brands you prefer to advice on how to maintain a rash-free pussy, to the point where some people might think you’re over-sharing or being too crass. Discussing intimate topics shouldn’t be a problem.
It’s not even a real dialogue anyway, so why do you -
“Yes?” Hoseok leans forward, interrupting your train of thought. The corner of his mouth is upturned, like he can’t help but be amused by your discomfiture.
“I like, um.” You close your eyes, hoping that it’ll somehow make the admission easier. It doesn’t. The darkness makes you feel even more exposed, like all your secrets are laid bare for him to see. Your voice quivers when you answer. “I - I touch - I mean, sometimes I’ll - my fingers aren’t long enough. So just rubbing the outside is - fine.”
“Ah. You like being stuffed full, I take it?” Hoseok’s vulgar vocabulary makes your eyes snap open in shock. He smirks, not expecting you to answer. “Poor girl.”
You shake your head, your reply dying in your throat. With every word he utters, your thoughts become fuzzy, muddled.
“What did you imagine last night while you were getting off? A stranger fucking your face? Big men taking turns using your cunt? Tell me. In detail, preferably.”
“I don’t see how-” The sharp look in his eyes makes you swallow down any protest. Still. You can’t get your mouth to work correctly and you look back at him helplessly.
“Is there a reason why you can’t tell me?” He tilts his head to the side, the smirk on his face growing, canines flashing. “Oh. I see.”
You flinch, your face impossibly hot.
“Were you thinking of today’s session?” He chuckles, delighted. “That’s quite naughty of you. Although, I can’t blame you, can I? We are known to deliver the best orgasma. It’s only natural to imagine what would happen.”
That’s right, you think. You’d spent all night fantasizing about a faceless, nameless stranger’s hands all over your naked body. How long had it been since you’d felt someone’s touch? Their tongue buried deep in your cunt, fucking you until your thighs trembled? Even your best dildo couldn’t hold a candle to a hot-blooded, throbbing cock.
Hoseok taps the pen against the clipboard, the staccato sound filling the silence.
“One last question.” He makes sure he has your undivided attention before continuing. “No need to look so worried. I won’t ask you what lewd thoughts you get off to, although maybe in future sessions I’ll expect that of you.”
You don’t linger on the implication there - that you’ll undoubtedly come back for seconds - and nod your assent for him to go on.
“Did you cum hard while thinking of getting fucked by me today?”
You inhale sharply, struggling to hold his stare. “I… The sheets were so wet afterwards, I had to change them.”
“I see.” He jots something down on his clipboard but his reaction doesn’t give anything away. Nervously, you pull on a loose string hanging from the hem of your short. “Hm…”
After a few seconds of silence he speaks up again, done with his assessment.
“Well, normally for first timers such as yourself we’d recommend starting with a more soothing body massage. But I think in your case a more thorough massage is needed. It’s not a cause for concern!” He adds quickly, as if to assuage any growing fears. “But in my professional opinion, I think the massage I have in mind for you might be more beneficial than the beginner level massage.”
“Um, what does this massage entail exactly?”
“We call it the full treatment. In other words - it’s a deep tissue penetration massage,” Hoseok explains calmly. “It includes an internal massage. We’ll use a variety of methods but rest assured - all techniques are tried and tested! You’ll be in safe hands.”
You pretend to mull it over.
Hoseok waits for your nod of confirmation before instructing, “There are towels at your disposal.” He motions to the pile of fluffy white towels folded neatly on the bench. “Feel free to use them. While you change into a...less restricting outfit, I’ll go retrieve the rest of the massage equipment. See you in a bit!”
And with that he’s gone. The privacy he grants you is, of course, just an illusion. Even without looking in their direction, you know that the cameras’ lenses are all focused on you, waiting to capture the impending striptease. You’d forgotten about them but Hoseok’s absence reminds you of their presence.
Per Director Ryu’s earlier instructions, you make a show of taking off your clothes. Teasing the camera comes naturally to you thanks to your prior experience as a cam girl; you know exactly which angles are the most flattering and which ones, on the other hand, emphasize your flaws.
Your back arches as you peel off your shirt, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts and the curve of your waist. Not long after do you shimmy out of your shorts, exaggerating the swing of your hips for the audience’s viewing pleasure. You try not to show your surprise when the dampness of your crotch sticks to your folds as you pull them down your legs - you hadn’t expected how much a simple tit massage and few exchanged words would rile you up.
The denim pools around your ankles and when you bend over to retrieve the useless item of clothing, you’re acutely aware of how your wet, waxed pussy peeks out from between your thighs. You stay in position, giving the camera ample time to zoom in, and while the stretch isn’t painful (thanks to your yoga lessons!), it is a rather awkward position to maintain.
Once you straighten up, you take a few seconds to fold up the shirt and itty bitty shorts before setting them aside. Normally, you’d leave your discarded clothing strewn about but you can’t imagine your character behaving in such an uncouth way.
With that thought in mind, you wrap yourself with a short towel. Rather than covering your intimate bits, it’s so short that it emphasizes your nakedness. When you go to sit on the massage table, the towel rides up, leaving you exposed and you have to fold your hands in your lap to preserve a semblance of modesty.
It’s easy to convey nervousness while you wait for Hoseok’s return. While you’ve never attended any drama school, you have watched plenty enough Netflix dramas to know which physical cues are more or less effective - constant fidgeting, shifty eyes, audible gulping. Since it’s your first time putting your knowledge into practice, you’re not certain how convincing your acting is, but hey, isn’t it the effort that counts? You’re not here to audition for the starring role in Hollywood’s next summer blockbuster, after all.
Hoseok knocks twice before entering, stopping your self-depreciation in its tracks. He’s abandoned the earlier clipboard for a large, nondescript, white cardboard box that rattles with every step he takes. It sounds more ominous than it actually is.
If Director Ryu is truly aiming for realism, he wouldn’t make Hoseok carry back the items in a fucking box, you think privately. Who even does that? Although you suppose realism isn’t the be-all end-all, no matter how much the director insists. Sometimes viewers like to be metaphorically edged and endlessly teased, and all this guessing only adds to the build-up, making the climax more than worth it. They could, of course, fast-forward to get to the juicy sex scenes, the crux of the matter, but you’d like to believe all this extra effort is worth it.
You blink curiously back at Hoseok, feigning ignorance.
“Oh good.” He beams in your direction, his eyes drinking in your scantily-clad figure. “Now that you’re more comfortable, please lie down for me.”
He sets the box to the side, opens the lid, and takes out a bottle of oil while you settle down on your stomach and carefully rearrange your towel so that it covers your bum.
“I’ve chosen bergamot essential oil for today’s massage. It’s a nice, citrus-like scent that’s not too overwhelming because it’s been mixed in with sweet almond oil. Its many virtues include, but are not limited to, increasing the body’s energy flow and enhancing feelings of joy and freshness.”
“That sounds lovely.” You sigh dreamily. Getting massaged and getting dicked down in one go? Hell yeah. That one is a no-brainer for sure.
There’s a shadow of a smirk on Hoseok’s face when he rounds on you, like he’s somehow privy to your thoughts. That, or your eagerness is too transparent. You’re betting on the latter.
His voice lowers an octave, the low timber making shivers run down your back.
“Shall we begin?”
He moves your hair to the side, leaving your neck and back exposed. He then pulls down your towel so that it uncovers the expanse of your back and covers more of your bottom half instead.
“Is this alright?” he inquires. As if testing the waters, his fingers trace down the line of your spine, stopping right before your lower back dips into a curve.
You moan your assent. “More than.”
Hoseok takes the bottle of oil and drizzles its contents over your skin like a painter splattering ink onto a blank canvas. He spreads the lubricant all over your back, rubbing your skin in circular motions until you’re coated with it. You let out a few pleased sounds here and there that are not entirely faked or exaggerated. He definitely knows what he’s doing with his hands.
Honestly, you feel sorry towards your co-star who’s stuck doing most of the work while you’re splayed out like a starfish. It feels a bit unfair that you’re getting paid more than him when he’s the one putting in most of the effort. Had you any shame, you’d give him half of your pay for his services. Alas.
“Tell me if it hurts anywhere,” he warns, not unkindly.
Your back stiffens. You expect Hoseok to replicate the rough treatment he’d inflicted to your breasts, but contrary to your expectations, he kneads your body gently, almost tenderly. The contrast between this touch and his earlier ministrations messes with your head. When his hands outline your flank, his fingers prodding the sides of your breasts, you swallow a hopeful sigh as you wait for him to envelop your soft mounds and roll your sensitive nipples between his skilled fingers.
Betrayal brews in your gut when he fails to indulge your fantasies. You’re tempted to grab his wrist and guide his hand to where you need it the most but you miraculously hold yourself back. Since the scene doesn’t call for that much impatience and desperation on your part, you’d hate to be the reason why Director Ryu asks for a re-take.
Thankfully, he soon puts you out of your misery. Hoseok retreats, done teasing the sides of your breasts for the time being. You’re not sure it’s relief or disappointment that swims in your lower belly, but Hoseok doesn’t give you time to dwell on the question. Almost as soon as he retracts his hands from your back, he redirects his attention to your legs. His hands, warm and slick from the oil, glide over the back of your calves and thighs with ease. His thumbs rub circular shapes into your flesh as he slowly works his way up, the pleasant sensations leaving your whole body boneless.
“You loosen up well.”
Hoseok’s fingers skirt the hem of the towel. Your breath gets caught in your throat as he toys with the fabric.
“Will you open up for me, pretty? You look tense right here.” He flips the towel up, revealing your bare lower half. He wastes no time before gripping the meat of your ass cheeks, fingers digging into the supple flesh. He spreads your cheeks apart, cool air blowing against your exposed holes, and lets them jiggle back into place after giving the camera ample time to capture the view. “Hm. Looks like you haven’t been properly stretched out in a long time... We’ll fix that today.”
Bolts of pleasure run through your body. The whole situation is ludicrous and yet, for whatever reason you cannot pinpoint, moisture gathers between your thighs with every passing second, adding to the mess dripping from your folds.
“Um, like this?” You part your legs open slightly, as if unsure. In situations like these, the biggest challenge is to act diffident and coy when all you want is for your co-star to blow your back out.
He tsks, the sound sharp and reproving. It goes straight to your core and makes your belly clench with unspeakable need.
“How am I supposed to fuck your holes open in that position?” He has the audacity to sound impatient. “Work with me here.”
He grabs your ankles and separates them himself, ignoring your yelp of surprise. Unaccustomed to the stretch, the muscles in your thighs strain with the effort to hold the position.
A whine slips out your mouth. He’s so mean.
While you expect Hoseok to act somewhat distant and objective because of the role he’s playing, his fluctuating behavior gives you nothing but whiplash. One moment he’s cordial and friendly, the epitome of what a  professional should be, the next he’s treating you like you’re his plaything, not his client.
His grip around your ankles is firm and unyielding. He’s got you spread impossibly wide, your legs dangling dangerously off the edge of the table with your waxed holes exposed for inspection.
“That’s good, just like that.” His hands let go of your ankles when he’s sure you won’t move from the position he’s steered you into. He strokes up your legs, the touch feather-light and fleeting. “Keep your legs spread wide. I want to see your cute little holes on display.”
His crude remarks make your body flush with heat.
Even if this is the sort of place that offers sexual gratification, Hoseok’s wording toes several lines. As his client, he should be focused on giving you pleasure, so why do his comments make it sound like you’re here for his entertainment instead?
Despite your character being fully aware of what type of establishment she’s visiting, you reckon Hoseok’s words are enough to make her squirm in embarrassment. There’s something filthy about the way he orders you around and bends you to his will. Even you’re not indifferent to the impersonal way he handles your body like a doll. Flickers of arousal lick up your spine, and with your legs extended so far apart, it’s not difficult for Hoseok to notice how much you’re wound up.
The position is far from proper. Hot streaks of humiliation burn through you when you imagine how easy and slutty you must seem to whoever is watching. You don’t dare move from the pose he’s maneuvered you into, not because you’re scared of the consequences, but because his presence demands obedience. Even without explicitly saying so, he’s made it clear that for the next hour or so, you’re his to toy with.
“Good girl. You open up so nicely.” Hoseok purrs, satisfied with your compliance. “Now let me see what I’m working with here.”
He swipes his index finger through your glossy folds, the action forcing you to stifle a startled gasp. It’s nothing like the erotic oil massage you’d experienced minutes prior. The touch is inquisitive, clinical, assessing. Like he’s testing out a new product before purchase.
You want to stay still but you’re so wound up from his incessant teasing. The slightest caress makes the hairs on the back of your nape stand straight. Hoseok is all too aware of this fact. The tip of his pointer finger comes in contact with your clit, the touch more delicate than a feather's caress. Hoseok watches with thinly veiled amusement as you jerk against the table.
“You really are sensitive,” he all but coos. “What a treat. Don’t need any oil when you’re leaking all over the table like a faucet. How long has it been since someone touched you here, hm?”
The teasing lilt in his voice borders on condescending. Heat simmers under the surface of your skin as you struggle to collect your thoughts.
“Eight months,” you squeak just as two of his fingers dip into your slicked up entrance.
“No wonder you’re all worked up.” He slides his digits right up to the knuckle, the glide so easy it’s embarrassing. “Needy holes like yours should be used more often.”
He fucks his fingers into your pussy one, two, three times, before pulling away, chuckling under his breath when your hips push back, greedy and desperate for more. Using the same hand he’d used to test out your cunt Hoseok slaps your ass once, the sharp sting making you still at once.
The damp mark on your ass is a testament to how fucking soaked you are. You can’t imagine what kind of mess the cameras are picking up on - but maybe you don’t have to.
Hoseok wipes his fingers off on you, using you to clean himself off. Although you can’t see anything because of the way you’re laying down, everything feels wet and filthy. He rubs your own juices onto your skin, reminding you of the intensity of your need.
And just when you don’t think his mouth can get any filthier, he proves you wrong.
“I can tell you haven’t been stretched recently,” he sighs, almost disappointed. “You’re just gagging for a pounding, aren’t you? It’s a shame your fuck-hole is too tight to take a big cock or I would have given it to you right away.”
Your lower body clenches as his words wash over you.
The idea sounds downright delicious. Hoseok is right. Even if it’s just for the sake of the storyline, there’s nothing more you want right now than a good, hard fucking. It would take him less than ten seconds for him to pull his hard cock out from his scrubs and make a home for himself between your thighs. Images flash through your mind of Hoseok’s hands on your breasts, in your hair, around your throat. You want him to cover you, smother you, as he forces you down against the table and takes his fill. You want his lips on your skin, hot and possessive, as he uses you like the cocksleeve he needs you to be.
God, you want that. You want to be used hard, to be fucked full until you break. You need this - your character needs this.
You whimper, high-pitched and needy. “Please. Please, I want it. I want - I want your cock.”
“I’m sure you do.” Hoseok all but scoffs. “Why don’t you just sit still and relax for me? I’m going to massage you until you’re nice and loose, alright? First-timers like you could get hurt if they’re not prepped properly but I’ll get you ready, don’t worry. By the end of this, you’ll be able to take big cocks in all your holes like a pro.”
“Shit.”
You bite back a moan, startled at how much you’re turned on.
Porn dialogue is rarely arousing. You’re the first to tune out your partner whenever they talk for longer than a minute. It’s because you hear the same exact shitty lines repeated so often that you’re half-convinced there’s a porn acting for dummies handbook being circulated around.
Although… Maybe if Hoseok’s lines had been delivered by someone else, they wouldn’t have the same effect on you. That’s the difference, you think to yourself. Hoseok’s delivery. The cockiness that infuses his every word, the way he confidently carries himself… He does it all so convincingly - nothing like the wooden and awkward memorized performances you’ve witnessed from fellow actors.
While you’re lost in thought, Hoseok rummages inside the cardboard box. Without his touch or words to distract you, it’s harder to ignore the building arousal between your legs. As the seconds tick by, your shameful desire only worsens.
Before you can crane your neck or voice your confusion, Hoseok returns, humming under his breath.
“We’re gonna try a different massage technique now. This method will help with lubrication,” he explains evenly. “I’ll use a special vibrating tool that will massage hard to reach areas.”
“Um…” You swallow, blinking rapidly. “Okay.”
“It’s not as scary as it sounds. We’ll start off slow and I’ll gradually up the intensity once I deem you ready for the next stage. How does that sound?”
A click, followed by a low buzzing, fills the room.
You gasp when the vibrating object comes in contact with the back of your knee. Hoseok’s free hand settles on your leg - a nonverbal reminder to keep your legs wide open for him as well as the cameras.
“See? Nice and easy. Nothing to be scared of.”
He rotates the tool in slow, even circles. You force yourself to relax and accept the foreign massage, disregarding how strange it feels to have small vibrations travel up and down your leg. After a few minutes of him repeating the same motions on your other leg, he slowly makes his way up your thighs, the rounded tip of the tool dangerously close to your drenched pussy.
A pleading whine reverberates in your chest. The electric whirring of the vibrator is not enough to soothe the burning between your thighs. If anything, it makes it worse. You need more, you think urgently.
Hoseok moves to the side of the table so that the cameras can get an unobstructed view of your clenching hole. It’s the first time you’ve seen his face since he made you lie down. From his voice alone, it’s impossible to tell how affected he is. More than once you’d caught yourself wondering… Does he like what he sees? Is he enjoying himself?
A dark streak of satisfaction crosses over you when you notice the hunger in his gaze, his pupils blown so wide his brown eyes look black. Drool pools in your mouth when you spot the sizable tent in his scrubs.
The fact that you’re at the perfect height to suck his dick doesn’t slip by you. He could flip you over onto your back, your head hanging off the table, and use your mouth to his heart’s content. You whimper at the thought of him fucking your face, your mouth reduced to a fleshlight for him to get off. You could probably cum like that - his cock buried deep in your throat, his fingers pressed against the side of your neck to you struggle around his length, while his other hand reaches down to grab at your breast, using it as an anchor to fuck into you harder.
“Shit, you’re really making a mess of my work table.”
Hoseok’s gaze is trained between your legs. He wets his lips and adjusts his hold on the vibrator. The sudden movement changes the angle, positioning the tool right over your dripping entrance, closer than ever to your swollen clit. The vibrations suddenly feel louder and stronger than before. If this keeps up, you reckon that it won’t be long before you’re hurtling towards the edge of a precipice.
A moan slips past your parted lips, loud and wanton. Embarrassed by the sheer need that colors your voice, you quickly shut your mouth closed, hoping that your desperation goes by unnoticed.
Hoseok chuckles, the sound sharp and mean. He comments on your obscene behavior, how you’re acting so slutty it’s a wonder you’d kept this side of you locked away for this long without people suspecting your love for cock. Every word infiltrates your mind, leaves no corners untainted, until all you can think and breathe and smell is him.
“Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of sluts parade in here and pay for my time,” he says, his dulcet tone making the degradation sweeter. You hang onto each and every word, letting yourself fall deeper into a haze of arousal and submission. “But it’s been a while since someone like you showed up. Just look at this… Your little fuck-hole can’t even take a bit of teasing without getting me dirty.”
The buzzing between your thighs switches back and forth between strong pulses and rapid, little vibrations. You keen, shaking from head to toe in pleasure. Your thighs are wet, sticky with your juices, and your clit is hard and aching for attention.
You don’t even want to know what state your sopping pussy is in. Every time your body jerks and trembles, you feel the pool of arousal that’s gathered underneath you. It’s - embarrassing. That you’re this soaked and close to cumming when he hasn’t even touched your clit or fucked you with his cock.  
In the midst of your pleasure-induced haze, your eyes meet his. The lines of his face are drawn into a smug expression, his gaze smoldering. Embers of arousal light up his dark eyes, and you can only stare back at him, clit throbbing, as he ups the intensity of the vibrations.
“Fuck! Oh God, oh I’m-” Your legs thrash, hips lifting off the table in an effort to escape the shocks of pleasure zapping throughout your body. Mercifully - or not, depending on how you looked at it - Hoseok brought the vibrations down a few settings, until the whirring had quieted down to a low thrum.
“Feeling good, huh?” The grin he sends your way is positively wicked. “I think you’re ready to take more.”
More? you think weakly. Any more and you’ll explode, like popcorn kernels in a microwave.
For a second you think he’ll bring the vibrator up to your clit. Maybe even slide the long, phallic-shaped vibrator inside your pussy so that it’ll stretch you out like he’d promised. What you don’t expect is for him to bring it down to your other hole, the powerful vibrations rattling you to the core.
Your surprised gasp is so loud, not even the buzzing of the toy drowns it out. Hoseok places his available hand on your left hip and pins you to the table, the gentle weight keeping you steady.
“That’s right,” he soothes, voice smooth like silk. It sounds patronizing, almost like he’s calming down a dog startled by thunder or explaining right from wrong to a small child.
“Um.” You let trepidation inch its way into your voice. “You - what are you doing? That’s not - that’s dirty.”
“What is?”
“My,” you pause, humiliation coiling tightly around your spine. Hoseok presses the toy harder around your rim, its coat of arousal making the tip slide over your sensitive skin. You’re tempted not to answer but you know Hoseok wants you to voice the dirty words. “My asshole. It’s - dirty. Please - I… I don’t think you should touch it. It’s not right.”
You mumble the end of your sentence like you’re embarrassed to say such a scandalous thing out loud.
Hoseok laughs, sounding both mocking and endeared. “Oh, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m going to loosen up all your holes. Because that’s what you’ve always wanted deep down, isn’t it? To service cock. Even if it means letting me play with this dirty hole of yours.”
The vibrations intensify with the click of a button. Your whole body spasms, limbs flailing pathetically as the sensations run down your back all the way to the tip of your toes.
You bite down a whimper. How does he know? How can he tell? All you want right now is a nice, hard cock buried inside of you - and at this point you don’t care which orifice he sticks in it. You’re just so - empty. So empty it physically aches.
Hoseok dials down the intensity of the vibrator and with his free hand, squeezes a copious amount of oil onto the toy, slicking it up.
Surprisingly he doesn’t bother prepping you with his fingers before easing the toy into your back entrance. From your position, you can’t tell if Director Ryu signaled to hurry things along or if his own impatience played a part. Either way, your sharp intake of breath is genuine.
You try your best to relax your muscles but the toy is thicker than expected, its sides bumpy and ribbed. Even though you’d stretched yourself out beforehand with a sizable dildo, the girth of the toy still makes your breath hitch. Your bottom lip hurts as you scrape your teeth over it.
“Relax for me. That’s it.” Hoseok whispers soft words of encouragement. “You’re doing such a good job.”
Finally, after what seems like light years, the toy is fully inserted, only the base of it peeking out from between your parted cheeks. You feel full, deliciously so. It’s only now with the weight of the toy inside of you that you realize how much you’d missed being stuffed to the brim.
“There you go.” Hoseok smacks your right ass cheek hard enough for the sting to go straight to your clit. “How does that feel?”
“Full.” You smack your lips together. Eloquence is not your strongest suit in the present moment and your lack of coherency only humiliates you further. It’s like he’s rendered you cock-dumb. Reduced you to a lust-driven creature that only has dick on the brain. “I feel good.”
“Of course you’d enjoy that.” The cockiness in his voice is undeniable, like he’s drunk off the power he has over you. “Needy sluts like you only care about getting filled up, huh?”
It sounds like a rhetorical question but you answer it anyway, just in case he wanted an answer.
“Yes! I’m a needy slut. Please - could you…?” You wriggle your hips, trying to entice him into action. The rocking motion jostles the toy nestled inside of you, causing you to choke out a moan. “Hng! Use my pussy this time, please?”
Hoseok clucks his tongue and slaps your ass again to keep you still. It moves the lodged vibrator, knocking it against a spot inside of you that makes you gush. Your pussy clenches up in an imitation of an orgasm - but you know from experience that you haven’t cum just yet.
Fuck. You’re so fucked and he hasn’t even given you his cock.
Your head thumps down against the table as you take in deep, steadying breaths. You can’t think straight; every thought seems clouded by a dense smog of lust. Your body feels like a live wire, all your nerve endings crackling with electricity. How much more can you endure before you shatter beyond repair?
Hoseok takes pity on you. “The vibrating massage should have helped your muscles relax. Your tight cunt should be able to fit this in by now.”
He slides another silicone toy into your pussy, this one wider and longer than the first. Your hands grapple for purchase as your body accommodates both toys, one in each hole. You’re so wet that there’s no resistance despite its impressive size and you suck in a breath as Hoseok keeps pushing it in, inch by interminable inch.
If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to how stretched you feel now. The wall separating the two toys is stretched thin and when you tense your abdomen, you can feel both of them nudge against one another. Your stomach feels - bloated. As if there’s a bulge where the toys are nestled deep inside of you.
It’s quite frankly obscene.
You’ve never felt more turned on.
“Whoa.” He grips both of your legs and widens them even further, displaying your stuffed holes for the cameras. “Your hungry cunt ate up my biggest dildo like it was nothing.”
The fact that he admitted it was a dildo - and not some vibrating tool - just adds to your mortification.
“Okay. Two holes down, one to go.”
He releases his hold on your legs and raises a brow at you. The smirk is back on his face and that, paired with the ravenous look in his eyes, makes you want to run and hide. He looks like he’s two seconds away from devouring you whole for dinner. “Why don’t you turn around for me? It wouldn’t be a full body massage if I didn’t rub down the other side, right?”
His chuckle spurs you into action. It’s not that you’re not embarrassed by the idea of baring yourself completely for him like some sort of cult offering, but the need to get dicked down trumps all.
Your mind feels fuzzy and your body sluggish. There’s a fire inside of you that not even double penetration has managed to extinguish and it roars to life as you manœuvre into the position he’s ordered you to get into. The toys jostle inside of you, reminding you of the depraved lengths you’d go to because you’re starving for cock.
He’s right about you, you think as you settle onto your back. You’re a needy slut. All you want is for your holes to be filled. And when they’re empty, your body aches with the need to fill them back up again. Toys will do but they’re a poor substitute for what you really want.
Thankfully, Hoseok’s own patience is running out. You’ve barely gotten into a comfortable position when he’s fishing out his cock from his scrubs, not even bothering to remove his clothes.
Drool pools into your mouth at the sight. He’s just as long as you remembered him to be. Not too thick or veiny, but prettily flushed and glistening with translucent precum. How long has he been hard? The erection looks painful. Distantly, you’re comforted by the knowledge that you haven’t been the only one suffering from this prolonged foreplay. God is fair, you rejoice internally. 
Your mouth opens of its own accord and your tongue lolls out, hungry.
Hoseok doesn’t comment on your pathetic state -  a testament to how worked up he probably is. He guides his cock into your waiting mouth with barely repressed urgency.
His cock is heavy on your tongue, the perfect weight. He pushes in until he can’t go any further, the position you’re in giving him better access to your throat. You fucking love it.
When you swallow around his length, he hisses between his teeth. “Shit.”
He gives you little time to adjust. As soon as he’s certain you can take it, he starts to thrust his hips. His cock drags across the rough surface of your tongue as it’s pushed and pulled out of your mouth at a rapid pace. Each thrust of his hips makes you gag, drool running down the sides of your face, and the obscene sounds of your choking echo in your ears.
The rough treatment should revolt you, make you squirm or shy away, but you’ve never felt more alive. Your mind feels pleasantly blank - like your sole purpose in life is to be a glorified cum bucket, a receptacle for his cock and cum. Even when he buries himself all the way to the hilt, so far down your throat it feels like he’s reached your stomach, you’re eager for more. Logically speaking you don’t even know if you can handle more, don’t have the mental faculty to figure out if more is physically possible, but your body knows that it’ll never be sated, not fully, not until he cums inside you.
“Greedy girl,” he rasps between heavy breaths. “Look at you… I’ve plugged up three of your holes but you’re still gagging for it, aren’t you? Filthy slut.”
His words are meant to degrade and humiliate you. Instead of disgust, you can hear the admiration ring in his voice. His awe satisfies you and you hollow your cheeks, suctioning around his girth just to hear him curse under his breath. You live for the way his hips stutter and how his deep breathing is interspersed by the occasional grunt or moan. It feels good to know that you’re bringing him pleasure, that your hole is satisfactory.
Hoseok reaches over your body and grabs something from the discarded cardboard box you can’t see. You soon find out what it is though - the oil is drizzled over your torso and chest, liquid spilling down the sides of your body. He throws the bottle to the side, more interested in spreading the lubricant over your tits until they’re slick and shiny.
It soon becomes clear that he’s abandoned his earlier massage techniques in favor of a more rushed treatment. Gone is the slow build-up. He rubs your breasts, grabbing and squeezing them like stress balls, and pinches your hard nipples tightly between his fingers, pulling them out until your back arches.
The next time he slams his erect length into your mouth, your breasts bounce from the force of the thrust. Hoseok’s eyes remain transfixed on the lewd way your breasts jiggle; because he keeps your nipples clamped tightly between his fingers, your tits have no other choice but to swing around every time he rocks his hips back and forth.
Every time you gag and choke on his cock, tears prickling your eyes, you feel the fire between your legs grow stronger. Shame and arousal course through you, your head dizzy with lust. You can’t move, can’t scream, all of your moans of pleasure muffled by the cock buried in your throat.
He laughs derisively, pulling out after a particularly hard thrust. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his cock and your eyes zero in on it, finding it impossible to look away.
“You slut.”
He makes a disapproving noise low in his throat before slapping you across the face with his cock.
It doesn’t hurt anywhere as much as a real slap but it’s so unexpected you gasp, your jaw throbbing in pain. The imprint of his cock is wet and dirty against your cheek. He keeps his cock hanging a few centimeters above your face. It taunts you, beckons you closer. The seam of your mouth stays wide open, your appetite evidently knowing no limits.  
“Heh. You’re really something… Never seen a whore so cock-hungry in my life. And trust me when I say I’ve seen plenty.” He sneers, walking away.
For a long second, you fear he’s gone and left you high and dry and that the scene will end like that. Except - no. He’s positioned himself at the other side of the massage table. You shudder as you realize that can only mean one thing : he’s going to grant you the fucking your body craves. 
Hoseok’s lips twitch into a knowing half-smile. He grips his stiff cock in one hand, the length of it soaked with your spit and precum.
You gulp, suddenly intimidated. Perhaps it’s the angle, but he looks taller than you remember him to be, bigger, his shoulders slightly broader. His cock looks more imposing, too. Despite just having choked on it, it’s long; his hand sits loosely at the base of his cock, leaving a few good inches poking out of his fist. Your mouth goes dry, your insatiable hunger reawakened. 
The impatience marring your features is probably disgustingly obvious because Hoseok makes another comment about how desperate and pathetic you look once you’re deprived of cock.
Using his left hand, he slowly removes the toy from your ass. The slide is painful because you’re clenching so hard down on it, unwilling for your hole to become empty once again.
A whimper escapes your parted lips. Hoseok laughs at the betrayed look that crosses your face at the loss of the thick dildo.
“So fuckin’ greedy.” He slaps your entrance with his cock, his grin wolfish as you wail in reply. “Stay still if you want my cock.”
Immediately you freeze, taking his words to heart. Deep down, you know that he won’t be that cruel but you’re so exhausted from the never-ending teasing, that you’re not willing to take any chances.
Hoseok holds up one of your legs and pushes it over his shoulder.
“Good girl.” He breaches your ass, both of you moaning as his cock works its way inside of you. It’s a tight fit; you can feel his cock bump into the vibrating dildo in your pussy, the feeling overwhelming you. He grunts, fingertips bruising your skin as he hold back from cumming too quickly. 
His hips work up a steady rhythm, the both of you already so close to finishing. You know that a lesser man would have cum ages ago, but Hoseok troops on, eyebrows creased in concentration. He looks - hot. Ridiculously hot, even in that dumb fake masseuse uniform.
His once perfectly combed hair is now disheveled, strands of hair falling over his eyes and dripping brow. There’s something about all of it - the wild glint in his eyes, the rough way he’s fucking you, the domineering aura that he exudes - that makes you absolutely lose it.
You clench up on his cock without warning, your insides squeezing around him even more tightly because of the toy still lodged in your dripping cunt. The orgasm rips through you, fast and hard, leaving your thighs soaking. Hoseok fucks you through it, his cock relentless, drawing your pleasure out until your body goes limp. 
It’s the kind of orgasm that on a normal day you could only hope to achieve.
Except Hoseok doesn’t stop to let you rest or take a breather. He brings your other leg over his shoulder, testing the limits of your flexibility, and uses the new angle to plow into you with renewed force.
“Ah - ah fuck wait!” You cry out, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations traveling through your body. “Oh my God, oh shit! You’re so fucking deep, ah!”
Hoseok chooses that moment to turn on the vibrating dildo. He doesn’t even start at the lowest setting, sets it straight to one of the higher level ones, and your whole body jumps. Both of you moan as the toy comes to life. The vibrations rattle your insides - and that, coupled with the fat cock that’s splitting you open relentlessly, threaten to rearrange your insides.
Arousal builds again quickly inside of you, pulsing steadily alongside your heartbeat.
You feel so fucking full you think it’s possible you’ll burst. Before, when you had both toys buried inside of you, the stretch and the fullness had been pleasant. You had even been able to tune it out for the most part once you’d got used to it.
But with the way Hoseok is now fucking into you with reckless abandon, it’s impossible not to be reminded of how stuffed your holes are. Every thrust of his cock in your ass bumps against the vibrator, pushing it harder against your bundle of nerves. 
“I knew the minute I saw you,” he growls, his pace punishing. “No bra, pussy ripe for the picking. Whores like you could never be satisfied with the beginner massage. No, I knew exactly what you needed.”
He adjusts his grip on your ankles and the change in angle keeps the vibrator pressed directly the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you.
“Fuck! Oh God, there there! Please, keep going. It’s so good. Fuck me!” You chant, out of your mind with pleasure.Your words are raw, unrefined, and in any other circumstance, you’d laugh at how ridiculous you sound.
“You’re so fucking loud,” he hisses between grunts of pleasure. “Why don’t you go ahead and cum for me. Make yourself useful and tighten up this hole of yours so I can feel good.”
He reaches down between your legs and fiddles with the switch.
You scream. Your eyes roll back and your entire body locks up. Intense pleasure that you’ve never experienced before thunders through your body. If your previous orgasm was like a building wave crashing to the shore at long last, this one is a fucking tornado determined to rip you to pieces.
Maybe you might’ve passed out. You don’t know. But when you regain consciousness, Hoseok’s cock is pulsing jet after jet of hot cum inside of your pussy. You feel it spurt inside of you, coating your already slick walls with his essence. 
He pulls out quickly so that the camera can zoom in on the way the cum oozes out of you in thick globs. Instinctively you clench your walls to keep more from leaking out, but it only pushes more of the mess out, painting your inner thighs white.
When you glance up at him you notice his shirt is soaked. There’s a huge dark spot that starts from his chest to his pants. He doesn’t seem to mind the stain.
“You came so hard you passed out,” he informs you while tucking his spent cock back inside his scrubs. “I came inside of you while you were out of it but I figured you wouldn’t mind. That’s what you came here for, right?”
The smile he shoots your way looks more like a smirk. You bite your lip. He must’ve taken out the dildo - or it might’ve gotten pushed out during your orgasm, you don’t know - and you feel your holes gape a little after being stretched and used for so long. You’re tempted to snap your legs shut but you know the cameras need to record your debauchery.
“I’ll let you change. You can meet me out front to schedule your next appointment. Hm let’s see… Considering how well you reacted during this session I think we’ll have to take more, hm, drastic measures next time. I’m curious to see how far your greedy cunt is able to stretch with enough incentive. I’m positive that with you anything is possible. We’ll try fitting two cocks insides for starters and maybe - ah. I’m getting carried away.” He chuckles. “Anyways, meet me at the counter in ten minutes and we can go over the details then.”
“I…” You wet your lips. “I’d like that.”
A silence ensues and for a second you think your acting was bad or you’d said the wrong thing.
“CUT! And that, my friends, is what you call art!” yells Director Ryu, clapping his hands like a seal.
You breathe out a sigh of relief and sit up despite your muscles protesting loudly. God, your ass feels sore. Hoseok had really done a number on you.
“Hey, are you all good?” He asks, drawing closer to you in concern. He must have seen your grimace.
“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. It’s just - it was kind of intense. In a good way! I’ll probably be sore later but that’s because I’m not used to these kind of scenes yet.”
“You were really hot. I couldn’t tell this was your first anal scene at all.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Really.” Hoseok sighs dreamily. “I think I saw Jesus when I came.”
“What?” You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle your laughter. “It was a good nut, I take it?”
“The best.” He looks over at you, dimples on his cheek as he returns your smile. “I blacked out for a second and went to heaven.”
You bask in the afterglow for a few minutes longer than you usually would. Hoseok makes no move to leave either, even if logic dictates that you’re both better off washing up instead of letting the mixture of sweat, cum, and oil dry on your skin. You know from experience that it’s hard as fuck to clean up once it hardens - not to mention it stinks.
“Babe!”
You’re roused from your peaceful state of mind as your boyfriend approaches. He’s smiling but one side of his mouth looks stiff. He hands you a towel, eyes trailing down your figure, and suddenly you feel self-conscious. You hurriedly wrap the fluffy material around you, eager to hide the cum still dripping out of your swollen cunt and the red marks littered over your body from Hoseok’s rough treatment.
It’s not - you’re not ashamed. You never are. It’s just - you don’t want to hurt Jimin. Even if it does come with the job, it can’t be easy for him to see his girlfriend getting fucked by someone else.
“That was so good! You did great. The camera really loves you. I can’t wait to see how the final cut turns out,” Jimin compliments and you preen despite yourself, conditioned to suck up praise. “Are you hungry?”
Just on cue your stomach lets out a grumble.
Jimin’s eyes crease into crescents as he smiles. “I knew it. You’re always famished after a scene. It’s a good thing I booked a reservation at our favorite restaurant, right?”
You nod, thankful yet again that you have such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend. “I’m famished now that you mention it.”
Hoseok observes the exchange silently and his presence makes you embarrassed for some reason. Maybe not embarrassed but - something. You can’t put a name to the emotion.
“Um, I’ll see you around?” You say as you gather to your feet. Jimin is instantly by your side, his hand wrapping around yours tightly. “It was nice working with you again! Thank you for your hard work.”
Hoseok’s lips quirk into a half-smile. He’s still eyeing the both of you in a strange, intense kind of way and the scrutiny makes you fidgety. You try not to make your desire to flee the scene too transparent.
“It’s always a pleasure. I look forward to working with you again.”
The words he utters are tactful and diplomatic - nothing like the carefree familiarity he’d showcased minutes prior. You don’t blame him, given the circumstances.
You shoot him an apologetic look as you turn away to leave. To your relief, Hoseok doesn’t appear dejected or offended. Just - curious, maybe? Pensive? Like he’s in the middle of solving a complicated and intricate puzzle and that puzzle involves you.
The idea scares you. Mostly because you yourself don’t know what he’ll find.
As soon as you’ve rounded the corner, Jimin excuses himself. “I have to finish helping the guys. There’s still some equipment to put away. But we’ll meet out in the back like last time?”
“Sure.”
He kisses your cheek and scampers away.
Seokjin is waiting for you in the next room over. He’s holding a water bottle, your favorite silk robe, and a dark chocolate energy bar. You’re so sweaty that it feels silly to wear the robe but you shrug it on anyway, knowing that Jimin will feel better if you’re not parading around the set naked.
Your stomach rumbles loudly and it’s only then that you realize the extent of how fucking hungry you are. Non-stop sex sure is tiring, you note while ripping open the energy bar with your teeth. Seokjin calls you a savage under his breath but those types of comments are so commonplace that it’s easy to tune him out.
“God, I could kiss you right now,” you say after swallowing down a mouthful of granola. After eating spinach exclusively for the past three days, the sweetness on your tongue tastes like a slice of heaven.
“Not with that mouth, you won’t.” Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I know where it’s been.”
Still high from your mind-shattering orgasm, you giggle and pretend to kiss him just to watch him squirm. It’s not until much later, after you’d washed up as best you could with the help of baby wipes, that you check your phone. You respond to a text or two before finally checking your social media page out of habit more so than anything else.
.
(2) new notifications
JHOPE94 has followed you!
JHOPE94 has mentioned you in their story.
.
It’s the same account Hoseok had shown you earlier in the day. You follow him without much thought, grinning to yourself when you read his bio “hope on streets and in the sheets ;)”, and click on his Instagram story.
You’re surprised to learn he’s one of those people who uploads multiple pictures about just about anything - his Starbucks’ coffee cup with JAY written in black sharpie, several mirror selfies, a snapshot of his shoes, pictures of the film crew setting up the scene. You click through the pictures, a little flummoxed by the random collage, and pause when you get to the picture you’d been tagged in.
It’s you. Squinting, you realize that he must have taken the candid picture in passing. You’re sitting in the hair and makeup chair, the makeup artist applying a layer of gloss on your lips. The row of lights that border all around the vanity mirror give your figure a halo spotlight effect.
JHOPE94 : not in heaven but i saw an angel today :))
.
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m-y-fandoms · 4 years ago
Text
COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 2
Part 1
This is gonna be many more parts... I can already tell 
Word Count: 2.2k
SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader!
- Admin Myah
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You spent your entire free period up on that roof, hoping by some miracle that you weren’t crazy, that the group of second-year students that had seemingly vanished before your eyes were in fact pranking you, and upon seeing that you weren’t amused, would get tired of hiding and pop out, finishing the surprise. No such luck, however, and so you left, the second-period bell forcing your hand. Spending the first period of your day - a bit of free time meant for studying, finishing homework, or otherwise enriching yourself educationally - up on the roof and unaccounted for by any teachers was a bit risky already, and you were a decent enough student. There was no way you could just sit there all day, skipping the rest of your classes. Sighing, you resolved to just give up the hunt for your destined main character and by extension the group of potential new friends.
Often after school, you headed to the library, which stayed open along with a select few other areas of Shujin for student use after the last bell rang. Today, however, you felt drawn back to that place, back to that rooftop where you’d seen Akira, Ryuji, and Ann disappear hours earlier. It just wasn’t sitting right with you; you felt a stirring in your soul, like a tiny voice in your head, a shimmering blue butterfly in your stomach. Lucky for you, the rooftop was also open, though you’d never really spent time there. Certain students, including another third-year you admired raised plants up there where the sun could reach them, while others simply came up there for the view or the breeze, some private space to study.
Today, the breeze was indeed blowing, and you sat there writing as it whistled past your ears, polishing up some plot points, scrawling down ideas for your protagonist straight from the imagination, since it seemed you wouldn’t be finding any real-life inspiration anytime soon. It was frustrating, writer’s block, and for the past month or so, it’s all you could do to write a single paragraph. You always found yourself lost in the pages of the novels you loved, and you could identify great writing, appreciate the artistry of another writer, but it was sometimes so hard to put your own thoughts down on the pages of your journal. Why was it so hard? You knew what real romance was. You knew which themes and cliches were overdone and unrealistic. You had a mature and healthy outlook on real relationships and could pick apart the stereotypical female protagonist who was strong and independent until she met the man who would break down her walls or the toxic bad boy who women loved on paper but would cry their eyes out over in real life. You’d read thousands of books and fan-fiction, listened to hundreds of audiobooks, watched tons of romance movies, so why, lately, was it not clicking?! Where was the disconnect between having thoughts and transcribing said thoughts down into your very own masterpiece? Fantasy came so easily to you, sci-fi, non-fiction essays for class, mysteries, research papers, but romance, the genre you loved the most, seemed to purposely elude you.
You were shaken out of your frazzled state when something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye. Shaking your head a bit to try and focus your vision, you looked over your shoulder to see that the black spot on the fringe of your blind spot was in fact actually there. You rubbed your eyes just to be sure, but there it was, a wavering black inky spot hovering in the air. Another appeared, then another, now red in color. You were beginning to feel insane for the second time that day, but rather safe than sorry, you quickly stood, shoving your work and pencils into your bag and shuffling away from the blobs, which were now oscillating and dancing around each other, phasing in and out of existence like a fisheye lens. This was a bit too freaky for your liking, and you were beginning to feel a frightening chill up your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and you elected to put some kind of barrier of safety between yourself and the floating bubbles. Like any rational person, your mind was screaming “unknown situation: possible threat: run!” but again, that little butterfly in the pit of your guts was saying there was something worth staying for. So, running to the door to the roof, you swung it open, a ringing in your ear starting to buzz and chime. You closed it frantically, pressing your nose up against the small glass windows that allowed a limited view of the roof. A small gasp escaped your lips, and you instinctively grabbed onto your bag a bit tighter.
The red and black splotches began to dissipate and fade like some kind of glitch in reality, and three figures appeared like mist, like ghosts before beginning to solidify and slowly become tangible silhouettes. Then, as if some kind of magic ritual was coming to a close, the figures poofed into existence, and your brain processed the scene before you.
“Holy shit…” you whispered. There, clear as day were Sakamoto, Takamaki, and the new kid. They were just standing adjusting their clothes, stretching their arms and legs, situating their personal items. It was just then that you saw a little furry head poke up out of Akira’s school bag. Your harsh, analytical gaze softened a bit upon seeing the small black cat that appeared. Had he been carrying that cat around all day? Surely not, right? How would he keep it quiet and still? “What the…?” The inquisitive glare returned to your features when they began… speaking to the cat. It wasn’t the cute baby talk people often use with their pets, either. It was a full-on, serious conversation, and the cat was meowing back, clearly, in response to their statements.
It was a bit muffled by the thick door, but you could make out bits and pieces.
 Metaverse? Palace. Shadows... treasure? Kamoshida? Great, that asshole, but what could he have to do with this? What even was this? 
You were questioning everything you knew. You were wondering if the juice you had this morning at breakfast was spiked. There was no winning in this scenario, either you were crazy, or these kids were. You looked downward, contemplating your navel as your mind tried to make sense of the events of today. You glanced up again, trying to eavesdrop a little better, get some more detail. You took a step closer, trying to will the sound of their voices through the door to be just a little louder, just a little clearer, when Sakamoto suddenly pivoted, stretching and cracking his spine with a sigh.
“Gah!”  You shouted out. His eyes met yours through the window and widened like a kid caught in the cookie jar. You jumped with a start, taking a cautionary step back and nearly tumbling down the stairs. It was a miracle you caught yourself in time, but your little outburst had definitely caught the attention of the group. Your cover was thoroughly blown. “Oh, no…” You cursed under your breath, spotting both Ann and Akira’s eyes on you now as well.
“Shit! Do you think they saw?” Ryuji’s hands flew to his hair, mussing and working out his frustrations on the dyed strands while simultaneously, Akira was already in motion, rushing toward the door to apprehend the unwelcome listener.
Your heartbeat sped up, and like a gazelle spotted by a lion, a fire was lit under you and you began to sprint, clumsily fumbling down the stairwell and onto the flat platform where the stairs rotated 90 degrees and continued downward. Inhaling sharply, your foot, nervous and supporting jelly-like legs, missed the final step. Your belongings, along with your body, spilled across the square, flat platform, and the door behind you slammed open.
“Hey!” Akira’s yell echoed through the stairwell, and your thoughts bounced off the walls just like his voice. Scrambling, you scooped only the essentials into your hands: your journal, the phone of course, a few homework binders, ditching the easily replaceable items like chewing gum and pencils. Taking to one scraped-up knee and ready to bolt, you felt a hand close upon your bicep and clamp down firmly. “Hey, hey… slow down.” Akira again, now gentler with his tone, spun you around to face him. You stood clutching your things to your chest like a life preserver. “I’m not gonna like… kill you or anything.” A breathy chuckle, and now he was on the platform next to you, scanning you up and down for injuries with his hands in his pockets. “So, uh… so don’t kill yourself by fallin’ down these stairs, huh?” He played off the tense feeling in the air with humor, but the sheer proximity of him, standing there in front of you mere inches away in the cramped space, it was like you could hear your blood pounding in your ears.
What was he thinking right now? Did he think you were some weirdo stalker? I mean, you’d just met him this morning and now you were watching him through a small window like a creep after school… after following him there. Wait, that wasn’t important right now! Was he going to kill you? He didn’t seem like the type of guy to do that, but then again, he didn’t seem like the type to phase in and out of existence either… neither did Ryuji and Ann… what were people with powers like that capable of?
Right now, you were just going to mind your business, and play it safe. It wasn’t worth getting mixed up with people who warp through a “metaverse” and talk to animals just for some good writing material, not if it turned out to be dangerous.
“Well…” you hesitated, “it’s none of my business, what I just saw, and I won’t tell anyone.” You breathed a little easier, tried to regain your composure, to not look too weak.
“So they did see! Awww, shit!” Ryuji’s head popped through the door, interrupting the uncomfortable conversation, and the hot air of the enclosed space was cut through by a gust of wind from the now open rooftop door.
“Now, just hold on, Ryuji,” Akira held out one hand to placate his rather temperamental friend.
“No, no really it’s fine that you talk to your… cat and just… vanish... and I’m sure it’s all fine and multiverse-y and…”
“Metaverse.” Akira corrected you with a small smile, bending down to pick up the rest of your scattered objects.
“Dude!” Ryuji ran a hand down his face in defeat.
“They saw us, no point in being tight-lipped,” he stood, handing them to you.
“Metaverse… right,” you took them, watching every move he made carefully. “Sorry, I’m… a bit more... eloquent in my writing,” you moved to the side, ready to sneak past and descend the rest of the stairs. Anything to get on with your day and escape this unbelievable situation. Akira shuffled, mirroring you and completely blocking the stairwell. There was something clever about him, something sharp and charismatic. He knew exactly what he was doing, what he wanted to achieve, and he knew how to calmly and smoothly execute his plans, unlike Sakamoto, who was far less… organized.
“Writing…?” He was keeping you locked into this conversation, as gently and amiably as he could, and you were not leaving until he was sure he could trust your word.
“Uh… yeah, that’s why I was up…” your eyes met his, quickly recoiling and looking toward the floor again, “...up on the roof. I was just looking for a quiet place to write.”
“What, uh, what kind of stuff do you write?” Ann had now joined Ryuji at the top of the stairs, leaving you feeling completely caged in. Ann threw Akira - who seemed like the leader of the small band of misfits - a desperate glance, a sort of look that seemed to ask: “Where are you going with this? Are we screwed?”
“It’s… it’s kind of private. It’s just… romance stuff. I don’t know, I do all kinds of different stuff, whatever I’m in the mood for.” Akira nodded, more to his friends than you, something you had a feeling you weren’t supposed to pick up on. He stuck his hand out flat, gesturing toward the rooftop behind you. You took the hint, heading a bit anxiously back up the stairs, Ryuji and Ann making way for you.
“You any good?” Akira followed behind you, and now on the rooftop once again, the cool air felt freeing, less constricting, though his question felt a bit insulting, a bit nosey.
“I don’t know… I’ve been told I am…” The three friends took a seat in areas that seemed very familiar to them, like they’d been up here warping in and out of this realm many times before. Now settled into place, Ann spoke up, obviously as apprehensive as you were:
“Well do you… do you think…?” Her high-pitched voice seemed to be hesitant, not yet confident in her next words, not sure if they were all on the same page.
“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Akira smirked as if the three had one mind. He turned to you, trying to make eye contact that you vehemently avoided. “How would you feel about helping us out?”
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