#hm so it seems my laptop heats up a lot when it's charging. but calms down a bit when i close firefox. did i fuck up the battery replacemen

[leatherbookmark]

"You should write for yourself, and also for people who will like your work!" they say. "Don't write for someone who will hate every sentence you put down! This will only make you stressed and overeager to prove that you're Not One Of Those Bad Writers when you could be focusing on simply writing a good story that you yourself enjoy," they said.

And okay. But also. Get this: what if -- are you with me so far? -- what if I write what I like, and then someone reads it and doesn't hate it, but makes a snarky vaguepost about it? "Then they're a cunt and you shouldn't worry about them" No but I think I can't do that. Due to being such a cunt myself.

[pars-ley]

Bare yourself (part three)

Pairing: CEO Jimin x female reader

Summary: After a serious hack from your office building, fingers start being pointed but in which direction is the right one and where will that leave you and your boss, Jimin?

Genre: CEO au / smut / angst / series / workplace au / strangers to lovers au / boss/employee au

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Warnings: Phone sex / Masturbation m and f / Police interrogation / Explicit language / CEO Jimin

Word count: 3.5k

Beta: @erotikkook thank you!

Notes: Ok, so this took me a ridiculously long time to finish, life is manic but here's the next chapter. Thank you for being patient. Hope you all enjoy!

Taglist: @jungkooksbroski @unoriginal-username15432 @yoobikook @vonvi-blog @itsohhonney @kpopnoobsstuff @namyoongles @btsmosphere @autumnbear @ownthesunshine @btstista​

"Miss l/n, we know the hack came from inside the building. All I want to do is find out who's responsible. Which means I need your cooperation." Detective Kim Namjoon peers at you over the frames of his dark glasses. 

"And like I've said, you have my full cooperation. I cannot tell you anything more than I already have." You respond leaning forward on the table, desperate for him to believe you.

He slumps back in his seat and sighs. "Miss l/n, we can't keep doing this back and forth routine. I-"

"Sir, I love my job and I love this company," you interrupt. "I also think very highly of my boss, I. Would. Not. Do. This."

"How high?"

You freeze at his sudden change of questioning. "What?"

"How high?" He repeats. "Is something going on between you two?"

You straighten your back, looking at him through narrowed eyes, feeling the rock of a lie settle in your stomach and weigh you down. "Mr. Kim, I am a professional."

He puts both his hands up in surrender. "No offense intended ma'am. It's just that some of your other coworkers seem quite smitten with him."

You almost roll your eyes, knowing you were probably just as dreamy eyed as your co-workers but too proud to admit it.

"Oh, and they did mention the two of you cosying up at a recent work party."

You resist the urge to swallow as your heart pounds violently inside you, panic squeezing your pumping organ in a vice grip. You thought no one had noticed your exchange or your absence when you both left.  

"We were talking, yes. He offered me a promotion and wanted to discuss it."

He looks impressed. "Wow, what a good opportunity, he must trust you a lot."

"He did." 

"Until this?" He scrubs a hand over his smooth face and you nod.

"Um-hm. What would you say you could hack into?"

You frown, not understanding the question. "Sorry?"

"Could you hack just about anything?"

Thinking about it you shrug, "Most things I'd say."

"Even something as impenetrable as this program?"

You laugh. "Sir, I designed the security portion of this program, I wouldn't need to hack into it." You lean forward again. "Let me explain something to you, if I were to do something like this, I would have been in and out without anyone knowing. I would know how to cover my tracks without being detected."

You pause rubbing your temples, "If you ask me, this was done by someone with a limited knowledge of hacking and computers. Either that or this person is trying to frame someone in the company. They're your two options."

He smiles at you, two dimples forming an endearing crevice in his cheeks.

"They told me you were smart."

You rub your face ignoring his remark. "I have been here for hours. Am I free to go or are you going to charge me with something?"

"Just one more question. What were you doing last night?"

Your heart stutters before pounding guiltily against your ribcage, with every beat you're almost sure you can hear Jimin's name. Ji-min. Ji-min.

Folding your hands in your lap to disguise you pinching your wrist under the table, trying to do anything to keep your hectic mind calm as you know you have to lie.

"I was at home."

"Alone?" 

The smirk he gives you makes your stomach churn, as if he can see right through you and your lies, as if he can see everything that transpired last night flashing behind your eyes. 

"Yes." Your voice comes out raspy, a sudden dry patch in your throat makes you swallow involuntarily.

"Run me through your evening." He sinks lower into his seat, you're almost waiting for him to pull out a footstool and put his feet up.

"We set up the project, waited for it to go live-"

"Who's we?"

"My team, myself and Mr. Park."

He nods and gestures a hand for you to continue.

"Once it was live, we monitored it for a few hours, checked everything was in working order and most of my team went home for the night. It was pretty late by then."

He jots your account down on his laptop, the keys clicking furiously as you speak.

"What time is 'late'?"

"Around 10ish."

He raises his brows. "Is that a typical work day for you?"

You shake your head. "No, it was only because we wanted to make sure everything went ok with the go live, a few tweaks and adjustments had to be made, nothing major."

He nods, eyes focused on his screen. "Is that usual at the end of a project, tweaks and adjustments?" 

You shrug. "Sometimes yes, on big projects, sometimes you can't see certain errors until a go live."

"Ok, so it's 10 o'clock and your team have gone home, leaving you and Mr. Park. What happened next?"

You massage your temples. "We spoke in his office."

"About what?"

Your hand slams down on the table, an action you didn't intend. "Is that relevant?"

He looks up startled, then smiles. "Why? Have I touched a nerve?"

You resist the urge to lean across the table and pound your fist into his smug face and instead lean back in your seat with your arms folded, an attempt at shielding yourself. "We spoke about the project and the result. It seemed to be successful, at the time, so we had a celebratory night cap."

He shoves his laptop aside, leaning forward on his elbows, ears pricked and ready. "Let me get this straight. You and the - forgive me - handsome Mr. Park are alone in the building, in his office and having a night cap, late at night?"

"Yes." You reply bluntly, the arrogance of him, so sure he'll find your lie, flaming your veins with rage.

"Does Mr. Park regularly have his colleagues in his office for a night cap?"

"I wouldn't know sir, I'm not his secretary."

"Even if you were, she'd have gone home hours ago, according to you." He pauses watching you, his eyes so intense they feel smothering-suffocating. 

His stare eases, releasing you from its hold. "Ok continue, what happened after your night cap?" He relaxes and goes back to typing. 

You breathe a sigh of relief, air feeling light and free again.

"We talked, I finished my drink, then I went home."

"How did you get home?"

You pause. If you lie, they're bound to see the footage of you and Jimin leaving the building together, with you getting into his car. 

"Miss l/n? How did you get home?" 

Here he goes looking expectantly over the rim of his glasses again.

"Mr. Park gave me a ride home."

And there was that infuriating smirk again. "Is that so? Was his driver there or did Mr. Park do the driving?"

You feel the heat on the back of your neck as you're reminded of how Jimin's hands felt on your skin, hot and eager in the back of the car. "His driver took me."

"With Mr. Park."

You nod slowly. 

"And I suppose he just said goodnight and off you went?"

"You're correct, sir." 

"And Mr. Park will vouch for this story of yours?" He taps his bottom lip with the pen he just pulled out of his pocket.

You nod. "He will because it's the truth." You're both praying and hoping you'd have a chance to speak to Jimin before he got interviewed...if he hasn't been already. God, if they found out you were lying about this, it would make you look so guilty.

"Uh-huh. One other thing…"

Fighting the frustrated growl boiling up inside you, you give him a false smile.

"Do you have any idea why someone would want to hack this software?"

You mull it over briefly, "I would imagine, seeing as it's a security breach for information, that it's to steal. Most of our clients are..." you struggle to find the appropriate wording.

"Rich." He intejects.

You nod agreeing.

"Ummm." He adds watching you, before sitting up and closing his laptop abruptly. "Ok, miss l/n, you're free to go. But we'll be in touch, I assure you." 

He stands up and you quickly follow him out of the room. When he shows you the direction the exit is in he turns to face you and holds out a hand. 

"It's been a pleasure, miss l/n, I know you probably won't be able to say the same, nevertheless." He shakes your hand with a half smile causing the dimple to return, somehow completely softening his face.

You nod and leave as quickly as your tired body will let you.

The cool, night air hitting your face immediately calms your panicked mind. You need to speak to Jimin but it might not be safe to do so.

"Are you ok, y/n?" A deep voice sounds from beside you, silencing all your other chaotic thoughts.

You spin and see Taehyung leaning casually against the pillar of the building smoking.

You relax at the sight of a familiar face. Jimin's personal assistant has always been friendly and kind towards you. You weren't sure but rumours in your company suggested that the two of them were even brothers, although you doubted it as they didn't resemble each other in the slightest.

"Yeah, glad to be out of there though." You reply, massaging the back of your neck.

"I bet, you've been in there a long time. I saw you leave to go to the station with them hours ago."

You nod. "It's been a long and very trying day. Are you waiting to be interviewed?"

He nods, taking a long drag, you watch as the end illuminates orange. 

"Well, I hope they don't keep you in there too long."

"They shouldn't. I've been away, only got back last night. Don't see how much use I can be to them."

He flicks his cigarette into the road and closes the distance between you.

"Listen, if there's anything you need or if you just want to talk or rant, anything. Don't hesitate to give me a call." He hands you his card. "This is a tough situation for everyone, we all need someone every now and then."

His bright, boxy grin has your mouth upturning before you know it. You thank him and hail and cab. Glancing at him, you see him watching you as the car drives away, unsure as to whether he's flirting or you're reading too much into it and he's being his usual cheerful self.

You shrug it off. All you can think of is getting home, running a nice, hot bath and forgetting this day ever happened.

*****

Back to reality as you sit with your silk robe wrapped around you, your laptop positioned neatly on your thighs, going through every possible way someone could have hacked into this, looking for how they got in. 

But nothing made sense, this was definitely not a hack done by someone with limited knowledge as you originally thought. 

There was no trace of anything left behind, no mark that anyone had even been in. Which only means, the hack had to be someone with inside knowledge of the project already, it definitely wasn't an outside hacker.

A more alarming finding was discovering the computer used for the hack was actually yours.

But why make it so obvious where the hack took place and which computer...unless...someone is trying to frame you. This wasn't something you had realistically considered. 

If you were honest, no one was even jumping out at you as a suspect. You trusted everyone in your team and everyone who helped on this project.

You sigh, massaging your temples as you try to clear your mind.

A harsh knock on the door makes you jump and you glance at your phone. 

02.31.

Who on earth would be knocking at this hour?

You head over, opening the door slightly with the chain still pulled tight across, to see a man; hat pulled down covering his eyes, standing there handing you a small, brown package through the gap.

"It's from Jimin." He says quietly. You watch his mouth - the only part of his face you can see - stretch into a gummy smile, before turning and exiting the building. 

Bewildered, you close the door and rip open the box. Staring at its contents and searching for some kind of note explaining what on earth this is for. 

A phone. 

What are you supposed to do with it?

You take it out, examining it and noticing the mistletoe background. Just like the mistletoe you first kissed Jimin under.

You jump out of your skin, fear firing an ice bolt right through you as it lights up and starts ringing.

Hesitantly, you answer. "Hello?"

"Y/n," Jimin's breathy voice sounds in your ear and sends a scattering of goosebumps across your skin. "I'm sorry for the cloak and dagger but I'm unsure if I'm being watched."

"By the police?" You ask, worried at the urgency in his voice.

"Not just them. Listen," he starts before you can interject. "I want you to know that no matter how it seems or what I say in front of other people, I do believe that you had nothing to do with this hack."

The relief that floods you has your shoulders relaxing instantly, not even aware they were tense. "I am glad to hear you say that, thank you."

"I also want to apologise, I did not mean for your involvement with me to put you at risk of any trouble."

You frown, trying to make sense of his words. "I really don't see how the two are connected."

He sighs and the urge you have to comfort him, to wrap your arms around him until his stress is eased, almost has you putting on your shoes and coat. "It doesn't matter. Things are complicated with me and it wasn't fair for me to drag you into that."

"Hey, hey," you sit down on the edge of your bed. "You didn't drag me anywhere. I'm a big girl Jimin, I can make my own decisions, last night being one of them and I definitely do not have any regrets about that."

You're met with silence as you find yourself fiddling with the bedsheets, reminiscing his touch. 

"I most definitely do not regret it either." He finally says. You think you can hear a slight smile in his voice. "That was a moment I had wanted for longer than I care to admit."

His unexpected confession causes a furious blush to creep up your chest.

"I wish I could see you." The desperation in his voice makes you hot underneath your robe.

"Why don't you come over?" You ask, hesitantly biting your lower lip.

"I wish I could, lord knows I do, but I can't risk it, for your sake." 

You collapse back on the bed in frustration, his scent jumps up and captures you, pulling your mind into filthy places. "My bed sheets still smell like you." You say the words before thinking them through. 

"Do they?" His voice is suddenly husky and full of want. "And what is going through that impressive mind of yours?" 

"You are. Your touch, your taste, how I wish to feel your perfect lips on me again." Your hand makes its way down to open your robe, cool air hitting your skin and puckering your nipples.

"Hmm-mm, and what are you doing while you're thinking about me?" He asks.

"What do you want me to do, Jimin?" You accentuate his name, knowing how much he loves it when you say it.

"Touch yourself." He whispers.

You waste no time in obeying, as your fingers travel quickly down to your throbbing clitorous. The feel of your fingertips massaging your sweet bud makes you moan.

"Oh god, this makes me want to see you even more." He groans. 

You use the phone to snap a quick photo of your actions and send it to the number you're on the line too. "Incoming message, sir." You say teasingly.

"Oh, fuck," he says in the distance and instantly followed by the sound of his trouser zipper being undone. "You make me crazy." His voice is right back at your ear.

"Jimin, I wish it was my mouth around your rock hard cock." 

"Me too, angel. God, what I wouldn't give to feel you around me. Tell me, what would you want me to do to you?" He grunts, the sound of him pleasuring himself causes a gush of arousal to spill from your eager hole and you spread it over yourself.

"I'd want your mouth on me...everywhere, tasting just how wet I am for you." You pant.

"Just for me?" 

"Yes, all for you." You lightly trace circles over your swollen sweet spot, toes curling when he breathes your name down the phone.

"I want to be inside you, again." 

"Anytime, anywhere, just tell me." You whisper, that undeniable build up already at peak point. "I'm going to cum." 

"That's it angel, cum with me." 

You unravel, back arching off the bed and burying your face into the sheets, relishing his scent. You hear him orgasm, repeating your name continuously. It makes you smile inside and it makes you feel powerful knowing how much he wants you.

"I have to say," he says, after you both get your breath back. "That was not the reason for me sending the phone."

You can't help but laugh at that. "What was the reason?"

He sighs again. "Mostly, to apologise and to have a way to speak to you that I know is safe. We have to be careful, now."

"Why, what are you so worried about?"

A long pause. "I can't," you can almost hear his inner turmoil, the fight with himself. "I'm just trying to protect you. You don't need to be involved."

You're about to argue but something inside you stills. If you push someone like Jimin too much, he'll only clam up further, he'll open up when he's ready...you hope.

"Keep this phone on, ok?" He pleads.

"More late night phone sex?" You tease, chewing your lip.

"I wouldn't say no," he laughs. "I do, however, just want to be able to talk to you, if that's ok?" 

You nod and realise he can't see that. "Of course, anytime."

"I wouldn't say that, you'll never get me off the phone." 

You feel yourself smiling like a cheshire cat, feeling like a lovesick school girl again. What has this man reduced you to?

"Goodnight y/n. Sleep well, angel." He hangs up the phone, leaving your heart stuttering and your stomach flipping with excitement. The prospect of something new on the horizon, even with all the current problems you're facing, something still seeming positive might come out of this. All you can do is hope.

******

Getting ready for work the next morning you felt conflicted, part of you was on cloud nine, drifting blissfully along on nothing but hope and dreams. The other part was dreading the work day and what it could bring, plus you still had your own discreet investigating to do.

A harsh, yet cheerful rap on your door, startled you. 

Rushing to the door to see who it is, a small part clinging onto a chance it could be Jimin, only to be disappointed when you open the door and find detective Kim Namjoon staring back at you.

"Ah Miss l/n, I'm so glad I caught you before work, could I come in?" The same smug smile stretching his full lips as he leans casually against your door frame, his laptop hooked under his arm.

"Really? Right now, I'll be late for work." You reply, feeling a bit like a deer caught in headlights.

"That's ok, I've already informed your boss of your late arrival." He assures you cockily. "So, can I …?"

You grit your teeth and step out of the way, gesturing for him to enter. 

You watch as he studies every inch of your living area, peering into your bedroom.

"What is it I can help you with, detective?"

He turns to you, "Ah, yes of course." 

Setting his laptop down on your dining room table, hitting a few keys and spinning it round towards you. "You might want to sit down for this." He says, as he hits the play button.

You ignore him and watch. 

Video footage of your office building, of you walking to your office partition specifically. You watch yourself sit in the empty building, at your computer and leave again. You look up at the detective, confusion marring your brow and he simply taps the screen where the date and time stamp are.

You follow it, and re-read it at least three times, eyes open wider than ever, as if that'll somehow help you see different numbers.

The frown creases deeper into your forehead as your brain catches up with the fact that the video shows you, alone in the building, at the exact time and date of the hack. 

[hermannsthumb]

From horny twitter: Hermann writes a very very detailed review of a vibrator online

not sfw below cut!!!!!!!!!!! 

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

Now, usually, Newt doesn’t mess around when he’s on the clock, because that’d be very unprofessional of him and that’s totally not who he is, but he’s in a little bit of a rut with his current project and could use the distraction. Online shopping is his favorite go-to distraction these days: he can lose himself in size charts and color options and hunts for coupon codes and forget, even for a few minutes, that the end of the world is accelerating towards them at an intimidating rate. Plus, he can write off half his shit as work-related expenses. Win-win. Though maybe not this particular search.

Newt has a pretty reliable arsenal of sex toys he’s used on rotation since he packed up and shipped across the world for the PPDC, but the ten-year warranty vibe he’s used since PhD #3 (and his favorite of the bunch) finally crapped out on him last week after a historically intense fight with Hermann got him historically wound up. Eleven years ain’t bad. After testing out a different charger, poking around in the wiring, and even going so far as to zap it a few times with some sorta-stolen drift tech to see if it stirred any life back into it, he finally decided it was time to just mourn, move on, and buy a new one. (Even if, unfortunately, his particular favorite model was discontinued when the company’s factory was destroyed in a kaiju attack and they never quite managed to recover. More casualties of the war.)

The sex toy market is truthfully booming during the apocalypse. It makes sense, Newt guesses—anything for a distraction. Personally, for Newt, orgasms tend to dampen his own existential dread, even if it’s just for a few minutes. He scrolls idly through a few Top Ten For 2023 listicles on various sex magazine websites to see if anything jumps out at him (some of the recommended toys are dildos he already has, and vibes that are a little beyond his k-sci paycheck), just hoping for something to jump out at him. Apparently he missed out on a limited-edition run of jaeger and kaiju-themed vibes and dildos that came out in early January, which he’s honestly a little pissed about—he’s the top expert on kaiju biology, god damn it! Didn’t anyone want to consult with him about their hypothetical junk? Accuracy matters.

“It’s all off,” Newt mutters grumpily as he examines a 360 view of one of the kaiju dildos. Trespasser. “It’s not even the right color. Fucking amateurs. Did they even try?”

“What are you doing?” Hermann says.

Newt slams his laptop shut. Hermann decided to cut his lunch break short today, apparently. “Shopping,” he says.

“You sounded awfully angry about something, is all,” Hermann says. He clacks over to his half of the lab and shrugs off his big parka, then pauses. “Do you need to...talk about it?”

“No,” Newt says.

Hermann breathes out in obvious relief. “Good,” he says.

He takes his usual spot at his chalkboard and resumes his calculating. Newt re-opens his laptop and scrolls away from Trespasser before he can make himself angry over anatomical inaccuracies again. The jaeger vibes from the collection are pretty cool, actually; the designs are a lot cleaner, and their artistic license is a lot more forgivable. The highest-rated of the set is one obviously (but not enough to invoke copyright infringement, if that can even exist for a jaeger) modeled off of Coyote Tango, with like, a million different settings, and an astronomical cost to match. Newt eyes it enviously. He could be shoving that up his ass right now if he’d just signed up for a stupid email list last year.

He follows the link to Amazon to read through some of the reviews enviously, too. Life-changing; best money ever spent; warranty lasts a lifetime. Ten stars across the board. Sold out, obviously. No idea when it’ll be back in stock. He could get the Striker Eureka model for twice the original cost as when it came out, if he wanted, but the idea of constantly having to associate the twenty-something punk Hansen kid with his intimate affairs makes him shudder.

A nine-star review for the Coyote Tango model from someone named MathLover69 is the only one to make Newt really pause, on account of how absolutely insane it is.

I saved quite a few paychecks to purchase this vibrator, and though the cost is steep, I must say it is absolutely worth it. As opposed to my normal vibrator (here another vibe is linked, and Newt’s eyebrows jump at that price, too), which has only five settings, an admittedly bulky body, and average battery life, the CT2023 has a generous ten, a sleeker design, and charges fully in a matter of minutes. The orgasms I have experienced while using it are higher in quality (and more numerous) than any resulting previously from masturbation, though I have not tried beyond setting six yet. It also works wonders for stress relief. (I have an incredibly irritating colleague, and nothing calms me down so much as a quick round with the CT2023 after a spat with him.)

The body is versatile enough to be either inserted into one’s—

Newt feels heat rise to his cheeks in spite of himself, and he skims the second paragraph of MathLover69’s review to get the gist of it—that there are, uh, plenty of ways to utilize the vibe, that it’s discreet and small enough to wear to work (if you were inclined to do so, as MathLover69 implies he might’ve been) and that when combined with the Yamarashi dildo, the pleasurable experience increased tenfold. Talk about oversharing. Jeez.

My only complaint would be that the design is a poor approximation of the real Coyote Tango, and for that I’ve docked a star. I would recommend this product.

“This guy is a total nut,” Newt says to himself.

“Hm?” Hermann says.

Newt considers the implications of showing Hermann the vibrator listing: Hermann will know he was shopping for sex toys, Hermann will know he was shopping for kaiju and jaeger-themed sex toys, Hermann will know he was shopping for kaiju and jaeger-themed sex toys during working hours a mere ten feet away from him. Embarrassing, but on the other hand, MathLover69’s review is too funny to not share with someone else. “Hey, Hermann,” Newt says, angling his laptop towards Hermann. “Look. Who comments shit like this?”

Hermann descends his ladder carefully and inches up behind Newt’s shoulder, squinting at his laptop screen. He immediately turns bright red. Newt must’ve offended his Victorian sensibilities with the mere suggestion of self-abuse. “Oh,” he says. “Er.”

“Way TMI,” Newt says. “Listen to this line. ‘With the Yamarashi toy inserted into one’s mouth, and the CT2023 inserted up one’s—'”

“Well, how else is one meant to review a masturbatory aid?” Hermann snaps, surprising Newt. He looks oddly flustered. “Details can be—er—helpful. Can’t they?”

“Sure, dude,” Newt snorts. “Except they’re obviously just screwing with people. They literally have a 69 in their username.” He taps at the MathLover69, and doesn’t mention—on behalf of Hermann’s delicate mathematician feelings—that the MathLover part is obviously meant as a joke too.

“Well,” Hermann says. “Perhaps it’s just his—er, their birthdate.”

Newt turns around to stare at Hermann, taking in his red cheeks, his red ears, and the gaze he’s fixed steadily on his shoes. It’s all Newt can do to not to gape at him. “Hermann, you’re kidding,” he says. “Right?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hermann says.

“You didn’t,” Newt says.

“I,” Hermann stammers. “Well—”

“I didn’t even know you—”

“That I what?” Hermann says.

Newt gives a half-shrug. Hermann doesn’t seem the type to engage in any sort of vice, let alone this kind. And especially not with the type of sex toys he apparently gravitates towards. (If Newt was a little bolder, and had a little less shame and care for hygiene, he might ask to check out the Yamarashi, because anatomical inaccuracies aside, wow that sounds awesome.) “I mean, you know,” Newt says. “You’re kinda you. No offense.”

Hermann takes offense. “I am human,” he says. “I am allowed to masturbate, Newton, and I was merely attempting to educate other customers about the—product—with my thoroughness.” He adds, awkwardly, “My review was voted very helpful, as you can see.”

“Okay,” Newt says with a grin. “I get it. Sorry.”

Hermann marches back over to his side of the lab with a scowl. Newt waits until he’s sure Hermann’s not watching him, and is too distracted by muttering angrily under his breath, to bookmark MathLover69’s page of reviews.

It turns out (as Newt revisits the page later that night, in the privacy of his bunk) Hermann buys and reviews a truly staggering amount of dildos and sex toys, and on top of that, has absolutely zero filter behind the wall of anonymity. It’s to the extent that some of his reviews read like goddamn sexts.

It took me three occasions to successfully work myself up to taking in the entire length…

My orgasm was so pleasurable I alarmed my colleague with the noise I made, who believed me to have injured myself…

The highest vibration setting is a bit of a disappointment…

These are excellent for double penetration…

It also turns out Hermann is a veritable sex fiend. Or at least a masturbation fiend. Judging by his reviews alone, Hermann’s purchased more than a dozen different toys in the past three years alone. That’s four a year. One every three months. That’s not even including buttplugs, which (according to other reviews) he sometimes just wears into the lab (“work”) for the hell of it, which Newt isn’t even going to think about right now. How the hell has Hermann kept this much of his life under wraps? When the hell does he have time to jerk off as much as he apparently does? No wonder they never seem to have any fucking funding; all of Hermann’s paychecks are funneled directly into his—well.

Newt recalls the faux-injury incident Hermann mentioned in a comment with mild embarrassment. No wonder Hermann had been so weird and flushed when he opened his door, and made excuses to say bye to him so quickly—Newt just caught him (oh, boy) immediately following the best orgasm of his life. Well, mild embarrassment, and a little more than mild arousal. What Newt would’ve given to have been there five minutes earlier, to watch Hermann in the act of the best orgasm of his life, to maybe even be the one to cause it…

What Newt would give to use Hermann’s fancy-shmancy vibrator on him, or literally anything from his giant masturbatory arsenal. Or even just watch him use it on himself. Hermann’s just so damned buttoned-up and uptight—it’s all about the contradictions. Juxtapositions. Newt unzips his jeans and sticks his hand down his boxers. “Stupid Hermann,” he moans, as he begins to bring himself off to the image of Hermann with that stupid kaiju dildo down his throat and that stupid jaeger vibe up his ass. Negotiator of peace between the two? Stupid joke, stupid Hermann. Or maybe he’s picturing Hermann showing up to the lab, all plugged up and loose from using a different vibe on himself that morning. Or maybe Hermann pushing two dildos into himself at once. How the hell can he even manage that? Ass his size— “Oh, goddamn it,” Newt moans again, and comes all over his hand.

Whatever. It’s not like Hermann’s ever going to find out about this.