#i know its a pretty pathetic ending but. it wouldn't be on-brand for me not to have the end of a round fall apart a little bit /j

[simstationdance]

The projection ended quickly, and Olive re-materialized in the exact same place she previously stood. She grumbled under her breath. “Of all people to get their hands on a genie lamp, why did it have to be... some random child?”

Then again... how hard could it be to get such a powerful artifact out of irresponsible, untrained hands? It’d be like stealing candy from a baby. Probably.

Hopefully.

[indigosunsetao3]

Midnight Maintenance

Third expansion of Older CIA Alex list.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

MDNI | 18+ | Please check AO3 for tags

"How is this not an emergency?" You ask your landlord as you stare at the thermostat on the wall. The temperature is reading almost eighty seven degrees. You fruitlessly turn the dial down to its lowest setting and hear the unit attempt to fire up before a loud rattling bang erupts from the utility closet and silence.

The landlord on the other end of the line, who is obviously annoyed with your third call that evening, rattles off something about state code ordinances. That an AC unit being out when it's below a certain temperature outside isn't considered an emergency. That he wasn't going to come out there at twelve in the morning and he certainly wasn't going to pay for an after hours service call from a company.

You open your mouth to protest even more, but he abruptly hangs up, and you snarl in frustration. The only other person you could call is your father, but he's out of town for work. This feels like its own brand of torture; you aren't made for heat. Sweating is your least favorite activity, and it is usually why you avoid any and all outdoor activities when it is above seventy degrees. A friend had tried to drag you to hot yoga once, and you had told them the only way you wanted to be sweating while being contorted into different positions was in bed.

Sweat is trickling down your spine and you can feel it on your hairline as you look pathetically around your apartment. Even with all the windows thrown open and the two fans you have blowing right on you it's not nearly enough. The air outside is a stagnant, muggy heat, not a breeze to be had, and as you debate just taking another icy shower, your phone buzzes.

Any luck? No. He's useless. Pretty sure he's thinking of excuses to evict me after all the calls. Can you go stay at your dad's place? I know he's traveling. I have work tomorrow, can't catch the train from there...it's fine I'll just sleep on the kitchen floor or something.

After no more responses, you tuck your phone back into your tank top, carefully slipping it under the strap. You skipped pulling on shorts and opted for just underwear for the time being. You had been joking about sleeping in the kitchen, but the tiles were looking more and more welcoming. You stare at the floor for a bit, arms held out as you let the breeze from the fan wash over you when your phone buzzes again.

Let me take a shot at it. No! It's okay, honestly. I shouldn't have kept you up with this. I'll survive, there are worse things that could happen...not sure what at the moment, but I'll be fine. I won't melt. Sleeping on your kitchen floor is not a solution. I'll be there in a few. Worst thing I can do is break it more. You really don't have too. I'm already in the truck.

Tossing your phone onto your couch, you quickly dart to your bedroom to put on something a little more presentable. It's too hot for anything too formal, so a pair of well-worn gym shorts it is. Your tank has a built-in bra, and while it's laughable for any type of proper support, it's good enough. You fix your askew hair in the mirror and attempt to wipe away the sweat shining on your skin with a cool washcloth when he pulls up.

You hear the truck pull in through the open windows and patio door, and poke your head out to wave at him. Even at one in the morning, the heat was oppressive outside. Because why wouldn't it be a heatwave when your AC died? You get to your door first and unlock and open it, waiting for Alex, and as he rounds the last flight of stairs, you grin at him.

"You really didn't have to do this," you state as he gets closer and you step aside to let him walk in. "I would have been perfectly fine with my pillow on the tile and my two fans."

"I wasn't going to sleep knowing you were stuck in this," Alex answers with a grin. He has the same toolkit in his hand that he had when he helped you move in. "Shit, it's worse than you said," he tacks on as the wave of heat hits him as he looks around your apartment, eyes settling on the thermostat. Eighty-nine degrees.

"What I wouldn't give for the frozen art gallery right about now," you tease, letting your eyes rake over him. He's not in a cut-off tank like last time. Unfortunate. But the t-shirt he's donned is maybe a size too small, hugging his arms and chest in all the right places, and you grin to yourself as you bypass him to the hallway.

"Good luck," you mutter as you open the closet door and point toward the unit that is squeezed into the space. "Hitting it hasn't been the solution so far," you tack on as you slip aside, letting him set his bag on the ground and flash a light into the dark closet.

"Slapping usually doesn't do the trick to start something up," Alex answers, glancing over his shoulder, a small raise on his lips. "Well, mechanical anyway." His gaze doesn't linger long enough to see your eyes widen before you abruptly twist on your feet to go occupy yourself with something else. Anything else.

You find yourself in the kitchen, hands keeping busy picking up the mess of your dinner...s from the past few days. Living alone had its advantages, such as not having to do the dishes right away or needing to put away that jar of peanut butter that you liked to snack on. But the same advantage was a disadvantage later when you had unplanned company.

Alex keeps working on the unit, the whine of a drill meeting your ears as you peer around at him. He's half in the closet now and a metal panel is leaned up against your hallway wall. Drying your hands on a towel, you wander over and stand near his legs, where he's on his back on the ground, soundly wedged in the tight space.

"Any idea what it is?" You ask as he cranes his head up to look at you, the flashlight in between his teeth. Even in that position, you see the feline smirk that quirks his face that much more. Notice how his eyes trace up your body over all the exposed skin before getting to your face.

"Few burnt-out wires and an overloaded circuit," Alex answers as he pries the flashlight from his lips. "Just putting a band aid fix on it until someone can come out and replace the parts," he explains before he leans back to get back to work. "Should be done here shortly."

And sure enough, when he sits up and flips the power back to it on the breaker, the unit starts. It grinds and whines but as you pass by a kitchen vent you feel cool air. It's not nearly cold enough, but at least not warm. You pause and bend over to put your hand over the vent before twisting to grin at Alex who's looking at you for a verdict.

"Cold," you say with a wide smile and stand up.

"Perfect," Alex answers, though you aren't sure if it's a compliment on his own work or the view you had just given him. "I'm going to hang around a bit, make sure it stays running," he states, "it's going to try and catch up, and I don't want it to burn itself out again."

"Oh, yeah, sure," you say, nodding a bit. "You don't have to, you've done more than enough."

"I'm already here, it's not a big deal," he answers as he steps around you to the kitchen sink to wash his hands off.

"Well, can I get you anything? I've got some," you pause and open the fridge to take a peek inside. "Pizza, beer, a very questionable container of chicken marsala from last week...and three eggs." You grin standing up to look at him as he dries his hands off with a kitchen towel he found.

"I'll take the pizza," he replies, tucking the towel back on the hook behind the cabinet door. "And a beer."

"Deal, go sit," you say with a shooing motion. “Find something to watch. I was watching Dateline, but you can pick whatever you want. I already missed the end of the last episode."

Juggling the plate with a few slices of warmed up pizza and two beers, you find Alex lounged on the right side of the couch. His legs are extended out in front of him and he's watching the murder mystery with intrigue. When he spots you though, he sits up and helps you set everything on the coffee table before you both settle in.

"It's always the husband," you state about halfway through as you toss your half eaten crust of your last piece onto the plate. "He even looks like a creep."

"Not always," Alex answers as he sips his beer, fingers twiddling the bottle a bit. "And it's not him this time."

You hesitate, then slide your eyes over to him as it cuts to a commercial. "I watch these all the time to go to sleep. They have focused on him enough to tell me it's him. I know how the show works."

"You may know the show, but it's definitely not him," Alex replies smirking.

"Are you challenging my True Crime savvy?" you ask, quirking an eyebrow. "Just because you do," you gesture vaguely, "whatever it is you do...doesn't mean you know everything." You pause, "unless you know this case already, which isn't fair."

"I promise I do not know it," Alex answers. "But I do know who the killer is."

"Fine. Who is it then?" You ask, shifting to face him better and stretching your legs out on the couch between the two of you. Your knees have begun to ache, having them curled under you, and the sweat behind them has grown uncomfortable.

"The neighbor," Alex states simply as his eyes dart to your feet, which are less than an inch from his leg. "This was definitely a woman who did it." He then proceeds to explain everything that led him to that conclusion. From the way the woman acted on the 911 call after 'finding' the dead wife in the garage to how she inserted herself into the investigation and constantly lingered around the home to help the husband.

You huff, not wanting to believe him even though it all makes sense and turn your attention back to the television. And sure enough, the story has a twist, and the neighbor and husband were having an affair, and she took it too far in her obsession.

Alex is gracious with his win, not rubbing it in your face, but at the small pout you give him he sighs.

"Beginners luck?" He offers before laughing at your eye roll. He gently grabs one of your feet and gives it a little shake as you continue to playfully puff out your bottom lip and pointedly not look at him. "See if you can beat me on round two," he states as the opening jingle starts.

His hand doesn't leave your foot as you both lock into the opening sequence. Unconsciously you shift toward him a bit as his thumb gently traces up the arch of your foot before you twitch. You're ticklish, but his hand keeps you immobile as he traces his thumb back down with a bit more pressure that makes you bite the inside of your cheek. It feels nice. Your job kept you on your feet almost all day, in heels, and there were days when you got home and barely made it to the couch, limping the whole way.

"First commercial break guess?" Alex asks as he rubs his thumb into the ball of your foot, pointedly not acknowledging what he is doing.

"You'll steal my answer if I tell you," you reply, to which he lightly pinches the soft spot in your arch making you jolt. "Fine," you laugh a bit, "a client of his."

"Not bad," Alex answers as he grabs for your other foot and pulls you a bit toward him. You scoot without question and lightly set your feet on the side his leg. "But I think it's the coworker."

As the show wears on, you find you aren't paying as much attention to it as you feign. Your focus is on his hands, on how they expertly rub out the aches in your feet, that one broad palm is enough to engulf your foot in his grip, and how his fingertips skirt up past your ankle to trace your calf a bit.

But you aren't able to hide your distraction for long as he switches to using both hands on one foot, a small groan escaping your lips. You can feel the heat rush up your chest and face at the noise, and you snap your eyes to Alex, who has given you his full attention.

"That sore?" He inquires, his tone perfectly casual though you can feel him shift a bit.

"I need to go get a pedicure just so they'll massage my feet," you confess as he works on the heel of one foot, causing you to shut your eyes. It hurts but then the relaxation after the pressure is heavenly. "Or just go get a massage in general."

"Lean back," Alex says as the show returns from break. "See if I can work some of it out for you," he smirks as you shift.

Is it crossing a line? Sure. Maybe. No? You don't know. He's a friend, right? Friends help friends. Maybe not at one in the morning, and probably not massaging out soreness unless that was their job. But...there could be worse things. You could be thanking him in a much different way that makes you squirm a bit at just the thought. This was innocent. Friendly.

However, this whole interaction would never be brought up around your father, who was already weird about you and Alex talking.

"Goddamn it," you mutter as you roll your head to stare at the ceiling when the show reveals the killer was the coworker. Alex had finished massaging your feet a bit ago, though they still rested in his lap, heels sitting right atop the center of his legs. His palms rest on your shins, thumb brushing back and forth idly every few seconds. "It's not fun when you lose."

"It's my job to be observent," Alex reminds you with a grin as he shifts in his seat. It's subtle, but because you are laser focused on just where your feet sit, you feel it. Feel him. Fuck, if that's him soft...You swallow and force yourself to focus and not give away what you just felt, and continue to feel, under your heel.

"Care for one more?" You ask though you don't really care about the show now. Too busy letting your mind wander to not so innocent things.

"You have work in the morning, trouble," Alex answers as you cut your eyes to the television as the credits roll. He doesn't let go of you though, fingertips wandering high enough to tickle the back of your knee before following the indent of your calf muscle back to your ankle. "I think you'll be able to sleep in your bed tonight instead of on the kitchen floor as well."

He was right. While the apartment wasn't the cold you preferred, it was at least comfortable with a fan so you could get some sleep. And you were tired, the massaging of your feet and legs relaxing you as you lay on the couch. But you also didn't want him to leave yet, either. It was nice having company, having someone around to talk to and spend time with. And also look at...and perhaps flirt with here and there.

Then a yawn betrays you and he gives you a pointed look, eyes darting to the clock reflecting it was almost three.

"Fine, Dad," you taunt with an eye roll, dragging your legs off his lap, feeling him one more time before sitting up. "I'll go to bed."

"Good girl," he mocks back.

Those words from his lips send a shiver down your spine that certainly has nothing to do with the temperature in the room. It was still seventy eight degrees in the apartment. He notices, eyes flaring a bit and lips curving up in the corners for a fraction of a second.

Definitely crossing into not friendly territory.

"Thanks again for coming," you reply as you walk him to the door, turning your head to yawn again. "I'll text you if I have any more issues," you tack on, heading him off before he tries to insist again that you call him anytime if you need him.

Leaning against the window to see him to his truck, you give him one more wave before dragging your fans to your bedroom for bed.

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

"Fuck, fuck," Alex groans as he sits in his bed in the dark, the glow of the phone the only thing illuminating his room.

He had barely made it home. By the time he got to his truck he had been painfully fucking hard. Mind consumed with everything about you.

About the barely there gym shorts that gave him flashes of your dark blue undergarments when you bent over or shifted your legs on the couch. The thin tank top that did nothing to keep your chest restrained, allowing your breasts to shift with each step you took and to slide up as you laid back on the couch so he could see the curved tops by your collarbone.

Then all that skin of your feet and legs on display for him to look at. To freely touch.

"Fuck," he groans again. One hand works over his hard and leaking cock as he zooms in on a video clip of you with your feet in his lap with the other. The way you squirm as you watch him makes him laugh a bit under his increasingly strained panting.

Alex had known exactly what he was doing and how it was affecting you. Had purposely pushed the envelope to let you rest your feet over him, though it had taken all his willpower to not rut his hips against your feet.

The show had been the furthest thing from his mind, only watching long enough to get his answer before all of his focus was on you. How you bit your lip when you thought he didn't see and squeezed your thighs together as you pushed your heels down a bit to feel him more, thinking you were being coy.

He doesn't need the visual anymore.

He slides the video to the live feed of your dark living room, sets his phone down, and closes his eyes. He has enough in his mind's eye that just a few more strokes and he'd be able to finish.

As he arches his hips up and moans loudly with a slew of curses, not caring about the mess he makes all over his stomach, Alex swears he hears a soft little moan come from his phone.

From you in your bedroom easing your own tension.

[mamawolfblood]

Though he didn't know it yet Chris Mclean was in for a shocking revelation. One of the campers is not exactly just some rando kid. This camper is his kid and she is out to expose it.

Name : Iris  Escalona

Age 16

Eye color green

Caramel skin

Black hair that she keeps in a high ponytail. A Cherokee rose on the left side of the hair tie.

Iris is 5ft 8",135lb

Out fit-White tanktop with the alchemists symbol blue acid washed jean shorts black converses

Iris has a dark sense of humor. She loves horror,pranks,is resourceful. Iris is not above smashing some skulls together. She is not quick to anger but Heather pushes a lot of her buttons.

All her life she just wanted Chris to know she was alive. Her mother never gave the reason why she left. She is the oldest of seven children.

____chapter5pt1____

Chris: Last time on Total Drama Island… The Killer Bass finally dodged their pathetic losing streak against The Screaming Gophers. There were bruises, tears, risky moves, and dangerous alliances. And in the end, it was Noah the know-it-all who didn’t see it coming. This week, another challenge will send one more camper on a cruise to Loserville. Population: Four. Who will sink? And who will stay afloat? Find out right now on Total. Drama. Island!

Iris walked back into the cabin after a shower. "Oh no this is bad. Im out of fake tan already." Lindsay said concerned. "Then go ger a real tan." Iris said putting her stuff away. "Oh its so tragic" Gwen said sarcastically looking a little more alive today. "Now I have to actually, like, suntan. In the sun! Do you realize how shriveled and wrinkly that can make your skin? Oh, you totally do." Lindsay said now by Gwen. I roll my eyes placing my hair in a ponytail. "See you ladies in the mess hall." Iris said leaving the crazy. "Oh off to find your delinquent boy toy. " Heather tried to get under my skin. "He at least I have a joystick. You should find one maybe you wouldn't be a stuck up bitch all the time." The girls laughed as I left. "That white girl is alright in my book." Leshawna said.

 [over loudspeaker]: "All right, campers! Enough beauty sleep! Time to show us what you’re made of!" Chris said

The campers made it to a make shift out door theater.

(Confessionals)

Iris

"I actually have a good feeling about this. Ever since I was little Dad and mom would take me to see musical and plays. I grew up a theater kid just something about it made it so magical."

*static*

(End of Confessionals)

Lindsay: Are we gonna see a musical? I love musicals. Especially the ones with singing and dancing. Heh." She asked amazed. I had to chuckle at this poor girl.

Trent: Gwen! Saved you a seat." He said moving aside for her. That is adorable I'm happy for them.

Gwen: "Thanks." She said sitting down next to him.

Cody: "W-W-Whoa! Uh, heh." Oh Cody you poor soul. She wont go for you give up already.

*Lindsay blows kiss *

Uhoh someone is braking the rules hahaha poor girl can't see the bitch she is helping.

*Heather turns and waves her ponytail in Lindsay's face. *

As I said bitch.

Lindsay: Oh! [spits out a wave of Heather's hair] "Hey Lindsay come sit with Me and Duncan." I said she got up and sat with us.

Chris: Welcome to our brand new deluxe state-of-the-art outdoor amphitheater! Okay, this week’s challenge is a summer camp favorite. A talent contest!" This made me happy.

Owen: Yes! Awesome!

Chris: Each team has eight hours to pick their three most talented campers.[Katie and Sadie squeal.] These three will represent them in the show tonight. Sing, dance, juggle. Anything goes, as long as it’s legal.[Duncan snaps his fingers.] You’ll be judged by our resident talent scout, former DJ, VJ, and rap legend, Grand Master Chef, who will show his approval via the Chef-o-Meter.[ding ding ding ding ding ding] The team that loses will send one camper home tonight. Good luck.

[whistle blows]

Heather started saying she was the captain. "Who said this Chika" I asked Gwen second it. "Beth and Lindsay"She said crossing her arms. "Fear is not the way to go Heather." I said and everyone backed me. "We shall see halfbreed." She said as I sat down .

It was Trent,Heather and Iris in the talent show for the Gophers.

For the Bass it was Courtney, DJ, Geoff.

Why we were killing time watching the other talents. Heather got ahold of some secrets that she was about to spill.

Cody: What you got there, a journal?

Gwen: Beat it.

Cody: Oh, I get it. Yeah, it’s private, huh? I’m down with that, yeah. It’s cool, brah.

Gwen: What part of beat it don’t you understand?

Cody: [sniffs]

Gwen: What are you, some kind of freak?

Cody: Y-you just… smell… really… pretty.

Gwen: It’s just… soap.

[guitar playing]

Gwen: I won’t even ask.

[guitar playing resumes]

Heather: Look! The first hook up of the season.

Gwen [sarcasticaly]: Oh yeah. We’re going at it big time. I need a swim just to cool off.

[door slams]

[door slams]

Cody groans

Trent: Gwen, wait up! I’ll come with you.

Gwen: Sure. I mean… whatever.

Chris [loudly]: It’s the TDI Talent Extravaganza! [normal voice] Welcome to the very first Camp Wawanakwa… Talent Contest. Where six campers will showcase their mad skills and desperately try not to humiliate themselves. First up for the Screaming Gophers… is Iris.

Iris walks out (a outfit that looks like Melanie from pokemon 2000. The Island maiden.) She started to play on her Ocarina my heart will go on.

It got a seven on the Chef-o-Meter.

Chris: First up for the Killer Bass… make some noise for the big guy! DJ!

[clapping]

Tyler: Woo-hoo!

Katie and Sadie: Yaaaay! Wooo!

[spiritual music]

[swirls]

[whips]

[thud]

Duncan: Ooh-hoo-hoo…

Katie: Gah!

[stretching]

[snaps]

Chris: Dainty and yet masculine. Let’s see what Grand Master Chef thinks.

[ding ding ding]

Chris: Not much.

Chris: So, with two down and four acts to go, it’s the Screaming Gophers… screaming ahead. Next on deck… Trent. Take it away, my bro.

Trent: This one goes out to someone special here at camp.

[guitar playing]

[Trent]

They say that we’ve only got summer

And I say that’s really a bummer.

But we’ll swim in the sun and have lots of fun…

It’ll just be the two of us…

Nothing to do… just hang…

So let me say only this…

Stick around… for just one kiss…

[clapping]

[ding ding ding]

Chris: Nice work! I’m liking your style, dude. And so does Grand Master Chef!

[clapping]

Chris: All right, quit hogging my light, buddy.

[objects tumbling]

Chris: Three down and three to go and the Killer Bass are totally sucking so far. Let’s hear it for Bridgette!

[clapping]

Courtney: Are you sure you can do this?

[stomach rumbling]

Bridgette[with her stomach rumbling]: Ooh. Definitely. No, uh, I’m great. Really. [She burps a few times]

[splash]

Screaming Gophers gasp and moan

Bridgette moans and projectile vomits loudly

Courtney and Heather gasp

Owen: I’m hit! I’m hit!

Bridgette projectile vomits loudly

Katie screams and vomits

Bridgette projectile vomits loudly

Lindsay [loudly] :Hey, puke on your own boyfriend!

Heather: On your own what, Lindsay?

Lindsay [quickly]: I didn’t say, boyfriend.

Chris [nasally] :Clean up in aisle three, four, five, and six! [normally] In the meantime, we’ll take a short break to hose the joint down.

[elevator music]

(Confessional: Bridgette)

Bridgette: Going home won’t be so bad… I-I can always work at the surf shack.

(Confessional Off)

Chris [loudly] : Welcome back to the TDI Talent Extravaganza! [normally] Welcome back. Okay. So in a strange turn of events, Bridgette’s chunk-blowing fest registered two thumbs up by Grand Master Chef. But, it’s not enough to pull ahead the Screaming Gophers, who held the lead with Trent’s love song. So, without further delay, here she is for the leaders… Heather!

[clapping]

Heather: Originally, I was going to dance for you. But instead, I want to celebrate team spirit, with a collaboration.

Iris saw what was in her hand. She started sweating.

Heather: So, with words by Gwen, performance by me, enjoy. [clears throat] Originally I thought he would be different. Even though mom says that my father and I are alike I don't see it. He said I remind him of someone her knew long ago but she left. I found that odd because I was alwats told he left. It doesn't matter either way because I know that Chris Mclean is 100% my biological father. " she said then handing my birth certificate to Chris who looked at me shocked. I got up and ran. Thats not how I wanted him to find out.

Heather: Thank you.

Courtney: [to Bridgette] That was so mean.

Bridgette: Seriously.

Chris: Well then, it’s down to the final act of the night. Can Geoff and his rad stunts turn it around? I seriously doubt it. Let’s find out.

[crashes]

Geoff: Whoa… that kinda wrecks the ride.

Bridgette [nervously] : Now what?! We have to send someone out there or we’re going to lose this!

[d-noona]

MAKE OVER

Chapter 2: Librarian the seductress

Jung Hoseok x Reader

Reader as Kang Hyeonji

SUMMARY: When Kang Hyeonji transformed herself into a striking redhead, the entire male population of Seoul stood up and took notice. But her make over was for Jung Hoseok’s benefit alone. He began to show interest in the new look but not in the way she wanted. Suddenly he was over-protective, perhaps a little jealous. It seemed that the idea of having a relationship with her couldn’t be further from his mind. The girl however wants more. So it was time for an ultimatum. If Hoseok didn’t want Hyeonji to lose her virginity to another admirer, he had no option but to make love to her himself.

Hyeonji was standing at the library computer, running the wand over the first of the huge pile of returned books, when something caught her eye. Something bright and red. She glanced up through the glass door to see a shiny red car turning its brand-new nose into the empty parking space right outside the library. It brought no flash of recognition, despite being a memorable model. Not quite a sports car, it was stills stylish and expensive looking. A newcomer to the area, no doubt. Not knowing that this particular library branch was closed to the public on Wednesday morning. Hyeonji was about to return to the job at hand when the driver's door opened and a heart-jolting familiar head of hair came into view, gleaming under the summer sun.

Hoseok.

Her heart leaped. So he had remembered her birthday. He'd even come in person. She could hardly believe it. Her happiness knew no bounds as she watched him close the car and stride up onto the pavement and across to the front doors. He smiled at her through the grass as he tapped on the wooden frame.

"Can't they see were closed?" Choon Hee complained from where she was sitting at her desk, flipping through one of the new publisher catalogs. She could not see who was knocking. If she had, she would not be so anxious to send the unwanted visitor away. Min Choon Hee might be happily married to her husband Min Yoongi with three children, but she still had an eye for a good-looking man.

Hoseok was just that –and more. At twenty five, he was in his physical prime, his elegant body in perfect tune with his handsome face. His height was no joke either, his lean frame made him look even taller, and did his choice of clothing. In winter they range from soft suede numbers to tweedy sports coats. In summer he chose linen or lightweight wool in neutral colors, and teamed them with cool T-shirts. Ties rarely graced his neck. In fact, Hyeonji had never seen Hoseok dressed formally.

Today he was wearing stonewashed blue jeans, a navy shirt and a loose cream jacket with sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His black hair was longer than when she'd seen him last, falling to his ears from its side parting and flopping with its usual rakish charm across his high forehead. He looked slightly wind-blown and utterly gorgeous. Hyeonji immediately put her "moving on" decision on hold for a good seven years. Thirty, she decided a new, was soon enough to give up all hope. The fact that Hoseok was standing where he was at this very moment had to give her some hope. Fancy him abandoning his precious business on a working day to drive this long from Seoul to Gwangju, just to see her on her birthday.

"For pity's sake!" Choon Hee snapped when Hoseok knocked a second time. "Can't they read? The library times are on the darned door!"

"It's someone I know," Hyeonji said. "I'll just go let him in." Choon Hee jumped from her sit "But it's almost..." The sight of Hoseok's handsome-self stopped her in her tracks. "Mmm, yes by all means let him in," she murmured, primping her glossy black straight hair as Hyeonji hurried out from behind the reception desk across the functional grey carpet. Hyeonji wasn't worried that Hoseok would find Choon Hee attractive. As pretty as she was, she was a married woman. Hoseok believed in keeping his sex life simple.

"One girl at a time," he'd once confided in Hyeonji. "And never anyone else's."

It was surprisingly conservative attitude in this day and age, especially coming from a man who looked like Hoseok, who had women throwing themselves at him all the time. He had a similarly strict attitude to marriage. Only one per lifetime, which was why he'd always say he would not bother with marriage till he was in his thirties and financially secure. He didn't want to make a mistake in finding his partner.

"In the meantime," he joked to her one day, "I'm having a lot of fun auditioning possible future candidates for the position of Mrs. Jung Hoseok." It had always terrified Hyeonji that one of those future candidates might capture Hoseok's love as well as his lust. Fortunately, that hadn't happened, and Hyeonji had taken heart from the failure of his various very beautiful girlfriends to last more than a few months. But his latest was a bit of a worry. A statuesque brunette who went by the name Tinashe, she'd already lasted six months –a record for Hoseok. He'd even brought her home with him for Christmas break, during which time Hyeonji had many opportunities to see Tinashe's assets. What she could do for a bikini was incomparable.

But I'm not going to think about Tinashe right now, Hyeonji told herself as she turned the key and swept the open door. Today is my birthday and my very best friend has come to celebrate it with me. "Hoseok!" she exclaimed, smiling up into his dancing brown eyes. "Hi there, Hyeonji. Sorry to interrupt. I know you're working but I simply had to show you my new car. Picked it up this morning at one of those dealerships just the other side of town and couldn't resist taking it for a spin. Before I knew it I was on the express way headed here. I thought what the hell Hoseok? You haven't had a day off in ages. Drive up to Gwangju and visit your Mom."

He smiled a sheepish smile, showing perfect teeth and a charming dimple. "It wasn't till I pulled up into the driveway that I remembered today is her golf day. Took all the wind out of my sails, I can tell you. But no way was I going back to Seoul without showing someone. Naturally, I thought of you. So...what do you think?" and he waved in the direction of the car. "It's one of the new Mazda Eunos 800s. The Miller Cycle version. Great red, isn't it?" he finished.

Every drop of joy drained out of Hyeonji. Hoseok hadn't come for her birthday. He'd come to show her a pathetic car. Worse, she hadn't even been his first choice of viewer. She'd run a very poor second. As usual. Something hard curled around her heart, setting in concrete and trapping her love for him deep inside. Hyeonji determined it would never see the light of day again. She glanced coldly over at the offending vehicle and shrugged dismissively. "If you've seen one red car Hoseok," she said coolly, "You've seen them all."

There was no doubt he was taken aback by the icy indifference of her tone, for his eyebrows shot up and he stared at her with bewilderment in his beautiful brown eyes. Hyeonji was disgusted with herself for instantly feeling guilty. So much for her first foray into hating Hoseok, but she was determined not to weaken this time. Enough was enough.

"You know me Hoseok," she went on brusquely. "I've never been a car person."

"That's because you've never learned to drive, Hyeonji. You'd appreciate cars more if you were ever behind the wheel. Come on. Come for a short spin with me." He actually took her arm and began propelling her across the pavement. "Hobi!" she protested, wrenching her arm away from his hold and planting her sensible shoes firmly on the pavement. "I can't. I'm at work."

"But surely the library's not even open," he argued. "Certainly they won't miss you for a couple of minutes?"

"That's beside the point," she said sternly. "You might be your own boss, Hoseok, and come and go as you please, but most people can't, me included. Besides, it's almost morning tea and I have to be here for that." The rest of the staff had all chipped in to buy her a cake. It was a tradition in the library whenever one of them had a birthday. No way was she going to run out on her real friends to indulge Hobi's ego.

"I don't see why," he said stubbornly.

No you wouldn't...

Hyeonji thought mutinously, and toyed with telling him, just so he could feel terrible for a full ten seconds. The decision was taken out of her hand when Choon Hee popped her head out the door. "Come on birthday girl. Namjoon and the new girlfriend Han Byeol brought your cake along and all twenty-three candles are alight and waiting. So get in here and do the honors. You can bring your hunk of a friend, if you like," she added, looking Hoseok up and down with saucily admiring eyes.

"We've got more than enough cake for an extra mouth" Hyeonji relished Hoseok's groan. To give him some credit he did look suitably apologetic once Choon Hee appeared. "God, Hyeonji, I had no idea it was your birthday. There I was, blabbering away about my new car, and all the time you must be thinking how damned selfish I was being." Frankly, she was enjoying his guilt. It had a deliciously soothing effect on her damaged pride. "That's all right Hobi. I'm used to your not remembering my birthday." He winced anew. "Don't make me feel any more rotten that I already do." Hyeonji almost gave in. it was awfully hard to stay mad at Hoseok. He didn't mean to be selfish. He was, unfortunately, the product of a doting mother and far too many God given talents. Brains and beauty did not make for a modest, self-effacing kind of guy.

Hoseok could be generous and charming when he set his mind to it, but in the main he was a self-absorbed individual who rarely saw beyond end of his own classically shaped nose. God know why I love him so much, Hyeonji though irritably. But then her eyes travelled slowly from his perfect face down over his perfect body, and every female cell she owned clamored to be noticed back.

But the only expression in his eyes when he looked down at her was remorse. When he forcibly linked arms with her, she glared her frustration up to him. "Don't be mad at me, Hyeonji" he said with disarming softness. "I'm not mad at you," she returned stiffly.

"Oh, yes, you are. And you have every right to be. But I'll make it you to you tonight, if you'll let me" says the man who is desperately clinging to your arms. "Tonight?" she echoed far too weakly. "Yes, tonight," he said firmly. "But for now I think your colleagues are waiting for you to blow out those twenty-three candles."

With typical Hoseok confidence he steered her into the library and proceeded to charm everyone in the place. It annoyed Hyeonji that he gave her openly curious workmates the impression that he was a boyfriend of sorts. He even extracted her promise in Choon Hee's goggle-eyed presence to go out with him later that evening. She initially refused dinner, no way was she going to disappoint her mother, but grudgingly agreed to after-dinner coffee somewhere.

Hyeonji told herself afterwards that she would never have agreed to go out with him at all if she'd been alone with him. She would have sent him on his way with a flea in his ear. She didn't need his pity, or guilt. The moment his new red Mazda roared of up the road back in the direction of Seoul, Choon Hee and Han Byeol settled their dryly knowing eyes on her.

"Well you're a dark horse, Hyeonji, aren't you?" Choon Hee said as they walked together back into the library. "I've always thought of you as a quiet little thing and all this time you had something like that on the side." Han Byeol giggled along with Choon Hee. Hyeonji silently cursed Hoseok. All he ever caused her was trouble and heartache. "Hoseok's mother lives next door," she explained with more calm than she was feeling. "I've known Hobi for years. We're just good friends."

"Oh sure. He drove all the way up from Seoul to wish you a happy birthday because you're just good friends. You know what? I'll bet you're one of those girls who go home from the office at night, and perform one of those ten-second transformations." Choon Hee laughed while Han Byeol agreeing to every word she said. "You know the type. Off come the glasses and the straight laced clothes. Down comes the hair. On goes the sexy gear, make-up, and perfume, and –WHAM! Instant meat in heat!"

Hyeonji had to laugh. It would take more than seconds to transform her. "You can laugh," Han Byeol scoffed. "But I'm no one's fool. And you're far prettier than you pretend to be. I always did wonder why you never seemed to be on the lookout for a fella. I was beginning to think all sorts of things till glamour boy arrived on the scene today. He gave me a case of instant heat, I can tell you. And I saw the way you looked at him when you didn't think anyone was noticing. You've got it bad. I know the signs. So why haven't I heard of this paragon perfection before? Why all the mystery and secrecy? Is he married? A womanizer? A bad boy? Look, you can trust me with your deep dark secrets" she whispered. "I won't tell anyone."

Hyeonji laughed a second time. "There's nothing deep or dark to tell. I repeat... we're just good friends. As I said before Hobi used to live next door. We went to school together, though not in the same class. He was two years ahead of me."

"Well, there's nothing remotely boy-next-door about him anymore" came Choon Hee's dry remark. "He has city written all over him. Not to mention success." Hyeonji and Han Byeol nodded to this "I am well aware of that, believe me. I'm not blind, but there's never been any romance between us, and there never will be. He has a steady girlfriend. Goes by the name of Tinashe."

"Tinashe," Choon Hee repeated, her nose wrinkling. "Don't tell me. She's stunning with boobs to die for, hair down to her waist and legs up to her armpits?" Hyeonji startled. "You know her?"

"Nope. Just guessed. Men like your Hoseok always seem to have girls like that on their arm" Choon Hee smirks. "He isn't my Hoseok" Hyeonji said tightly. "But you like him to be, don't you?" Han Byeol added.

Hyeonji opened her mouth to deny it. But her tongue betrayed her when a thickness claimed it. Tears pricked at her back of her eyes.

Her Hoseok...

What a concept. What an improbable, impossible, inconceivable, unachievable concept. To keep clinging to it was not only demeaning to her personally but depressing in the extreme. "There was a time when I did" she said at last, her tone clipped and cold. "But not anymore. I have better things to do with my life than pine for the impossible."

"Impossible? Why do you say impossible?" as Han Byeol curiously asked. "For pity's sake Han Byeol, you've seen him and you too Choon. You guys said so yourself men like Hoseok go for girls like Tinashe, not mousy little things like me."

"You'd be far from mousy if you made the best of yourself. To be frank, Hyeonji, a little make-up wouldn't go astray. And an occasional visit to the hairdresser." Hyeonji stiffened, despite the criticism striking home. "I wouldn't want a man who didn't love me for myself" CHoon Hee said sharply. "That's rubbish and you know it! I'm a married lady and I still have to work hard to keep my man. Now you listen to me, Hyeonji and you too Han Byeol for your sake and Namjoon's." Choon Hee turns to face Hyeonji "Now, when Hoseok comes to take you out tonight. Surprise him."

"Surprise him?" Hyeonji asked dryly feeling nervous about Choon Hee's suggestion. "Yes, leave your hair down. Slap some make-up on." Han Byeol added "Use a sexy perfume. Wear something which shows off that great little figure of yours." Choon Hee nodded in approval.

For a split second, Hyeonji was buoyed up by Choon Hee and Han Byeol's compliments on her figure. But then she thought of Tinashe's tall, voluptuous, sex-bomb body and her momentary high was totally deflated.

"I don't have any sexy perfume," she murmured dispiritedly. She didn't own much make-up either. But she wasn't about to admit that. Choon Hee gave her an exasperated glare. "Then buy some at the mall during your lunch hour!" Their library was in a small regional center which boasted a few shops, a well-stocked chemist shop included. Hyeonji declined telling CHoon Hee and Han Byeol that she only had five dollars in her purse. Sexy perfume was expensive, and she'd rather wear nothing than douse herself in a cheap scent.

Hyeonji actually contemplating asking her friends to lend her some money and reality returned with a rush. She could wear more make-up than a Japanese geisha and drown herself in the most exotic expensive perfume in the world and it would not make Hoseok fall in love with her. "Thank you for your advice ladies," she said with a return to common sense "but I really rather just be myself. Now I'd better get back to these books." Hyeonji resumed checking in the returns, blocking her mind to everything but the thought that at least she would not starve to death tonight after her mother's special birthday meal. Hoseok could buy her something delicious and creamy to go with her after-dinner coffee.

Hyeonji gave no more thought to the girl's advice about make-up and perfume, till she arrived home late that afternoon and opened her carryall to find a paper parcel sitting on top of her house keys. It contained a small but expensive-looking bottle of perfume.

And a note. "Happy birthday darling!" Choon Hee and Han Byeol had written with their usual extravagant hand writing. "This always worked for me. Well, sometimes. Still, what have you got to lose? Go for it! We chipped in so don't worry about it. We love you. Go get your man!"

Hyeonji sprayed a tiny burst of perfume onto her wrist and lifted it to her nose. It was a wonderfully sensual smell, its heavy musk perfume bringing images of satin sheets and naked bodies and untold unknown delights. Hyeonji shook her head. To wear such a scent in Hoseok's presence would be the ultimate torture, and let's face it, Hyeonji told herself, wearing perfume, no matter how sensual, isn't about to turn Hoseok into some kind of sex-crazed lunatic. With a girl like Tinashe in tow, no doubt he has all the sex he can handle. Hyeonji glanced at the perfume's name and laughed.

SEDUCTRESS

Good Lord. It would've been a powerful potion to turn her into that. It was a nice thought of Choon Hee and Han Byeol's, but a total waste of time and money. So was her advice. For Hyeonji she believed she did have something to lose. Her self-respect, and possibly Hoseok's friendship.

Chapter 03

Masterlist