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seospicybin · 2 months ago

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COCKY.

FINAL CHAPTER

Bangchan x reader. (s,f)

Chapters: Chapter I / Chapter II / Chapter III

Synopsis: As a researcher developing a specialized condom in extra large sizes, you never expected the company’s product manager, Chris, to volunteer as a test subject—let alone for things to get this complicated. Balancing professionalism with undeniable chemistry, you must navigate a partnership that’s strictly business… or so you keep telling yourself. (16,4k words)

Author's note: Thank you for patiently waiting and for following Cocky series. Hope you enjoy this one too and don't forget to share your thoughts on it ♡

As the morning sun kisses your bare skin, you slowly stir awake, feeling oddly disoriented. Your body feels heavy, sore in places that make last night come rushing back in vivid detail.

Blinking, you turn your head to the side—and there he is. Chris, lying beside you, his bare chest rising and falling in deep, steady breaths. His face is relaxed in sleep, hair slightly tousled, lips parted just slightly.

Your eyes drift to the bedside table, where the evidence of the night lingers—torn condom wrappers scattered messily across the surface. Heat creeps up your neck as memories flood in. How Jane had slipped Chris that damn pill. How you got him home. And how you… passed out. During sex.

You groan internally, mortified. Of all the things that could’ve happened, that had to be the way the night ended? You can’t even begin to imagine what Chris must have thought.

Heart hammering, you slowly shift in bed, careful not to disturb him. The last thing you want is to wake up to his teasing or—worse—his concern. You can’t face that right now.

Holding your breath, you slip the covers off and carefully climb out of bed, moving as silently as possible. Your clothes are scattered around the room, but you grab the nearest things, pulling them on hastily. You just need to get out before he wakes up. You take one last glance at him—still fast asleep—and then, as quietly as possible, you head for the door.

Despite the late start to your morning, you make it to the office just in time. Your heart is pounding, anxiety creeping up your spine. After sneaking out of Chris’s apartment that morning, all you could think about was avoiding Jane. There’s no way she wouldn’t interrogate you about last night, and you are not ready for that conversation.

However, the moment you step into the lab, Jane comes rushing toward you. You brace yourself, expecting the worst.

“You’re finally here!” she exclaims, gripping your arm.

“I—” you start, but she cuts you off.

“Check your email. Now.”

She’s not asking about last night? You blink at her, confused. “Wait, what?”

Jane huffs impatiently and practically drags you to your desk. “The company sent out an announcement this morning. Your product? It’s officially launching.”

Your breath catches. Already?

“Go on,” she urges, gesturing at your laptop.

Hands slightly trembling, you open your inbox. Sure enough, the company-wide email is sitting at the top, bold and unread. When you click on it, the subject line says it all:

Official Product Launch Announcement – New Innovations in Health & Wellness

And there, among the listed products, is yours.

Jane claps her hands together, grinning. “This is huge! Congratulations, genius!” She doesn't shy away from placing a kiss on your cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark on it.

You force a smile, but your stomach churns. The launch means more than just success—it means presenting your product to a lot of people at the expo. Investors, media, potential buyers… all eyes on you.

Jane notices your expression and narrows her eyes. “Wait. Why do you look like someone just told you your dog ran away?”

You sigh, slumping in your chair. “Because this means I have to present at the expo.”

“So?” Jane tilts her head. “You’re brilliant. You worked so hard on this. You’re the best person to introduce it.”

You groan. “But I hate public speaking.”

Jane scoffs. “Oh, please. You literally had to interview men about their dick sizes for this research. If you survived that, you can survive anything.”

You open your mouth to argue but—okay, fair point.

Jane smirks in triumph and pats your shoulder. “You got this. Just picture everyone in their underwear or something.” Then, she glances at her watch. “Alright, gotta go back to my lab before someone notices I ditched work.”

She turns to leave but pauses. Her eyes zero in on your neck, and her smirk deepens. “By the way,” she says sweetly, “nice hickey.”

Your blood runs cold. “What?”

Jane bursts out laughing when she sees how horrified you look. “Oh my god! You didn’t even notice?!”

You slap a hand over your neck, face burning. “JANE!”

She cackles as she heads for the door. “Good luck explaining that on your presentation.” Then, with one last wicked grin, she disappears, leaving you in utter mortification.

You gather in the meeting room with your team, everyone chatting excitedly about the upcoming expo. The atmosphere is buzzing with energy, but you sit stiffly in your chair, gripping your pen like it’s a lifeline.

“Alright,” you start, clearing your throat. “Let’s go over our presentation plan for the expo.”

Your lead assistant, Mark, grins. “We’re finally getting the recognition we deserve. This is huge.”

“It is,” you agree, forcing a smile. “Which is why we need to make sure everything runs smoothly.”

You run through the details—booth setup, product demonstrations, key talking points—but the whole time, one thought lingers in the back of your mind: Chris will be there. He has to be. As the product manager, he’ll be involved in the official launch. And after what happened last night… well, you’re not sure how to face him yet.

“Will you be handling the main presentation yourself?” another team member asks.

You hesitate. “I’ll be leading it, yes. But I’ll need all of you to help with different parts of the demonstration.”

Mark nods and gives you a reassuring smile. “You’ll do fine. Just be confident.”

“Right,” you mutter. Easier said than done.

The meeting continues, and you do your best to focus. But no matter how much you plan, one thing is clear—there’s no avoiding Chris at the expo.

And there's no way of avoiding him in the office no matter how big this building is. As you head back to your lab, still lost in thought from the meeting, you turn a corner and collide with someone. Strong hands catch your arms before you can stumble, and when you look up, air caught in your throat.

Chris. He smiles down at you, his expression easy, like nothing is out of the ordinary. “Hey.”

You force an awkward smile back, hyper-aware of the people moving past you in the hallway. Good. An open space. He can’t bring it up here.

“Congrats on the launch,” he says, his voice warm. “You really did it.”

“Thank you,” you reply, gripping the tablet in your hands a little tighter.

Chris nods, but then, to your surprise, he takes a step closer. The shift is subtle, but the space between you suddenly feels smaller. Your breath catches, nerves prickling as you stare up at him.

He opens his mouth, and for a second, you’re sure he’s about to mention last night. But instead, he says, “Good luck with everything.”

You get taken aback. But the way he looks at you—like he wants to say something else entirely—keeps you frozen in place. Your heart pounds. You don’t trust yourself to respond properly, so you quickly mumble, “Thanks,” before stepping back. “I should, um—get back to work.”

Chris watches you for a beat, unreadable, but he doesn’t stop you. As you walk away, you exhale slowly, feeling like you just dodged a bullet. For now.

The expo is in full swing, the grand hall filled with a hum of conversations, the occasional burst of laughter, and the constant shuffle of people moving between booths. Bright banners and LED screens flash promotional videos, showcasing the latest products and innovations. The air carries a mix of fresh coffee from a nearby vendor and the faint scent of brand-new packaging materials.

Despite the excitement buzzing around you, a tight knot of nerves sits heavy in your stomach. Today is a big day—your product is being introduced to the public, and soon, you’ll have to engage with potential clients, answer questions, and confidently present everything you’ve worked so hard for. You exhale, trying to push aside the anxiety.

Jane, walking beside you, nudges your arm playfully. “Relax, you’re going to do great.”

You give her a small, unsure smile, but before you can say anything, she suddenly stops in her tracks and tugs at your sleeve. “Oh, look who’s here,” she sing-songs, pointing toward a booth a few meters away.

Your eyes follow her gesture, and sure enough, there’s Chris. He’s casually checking out a product display, dressed sharp as ever, dark navy with suit with silk tie, exuding that effortless confidence that always makes him stand out.

Jane smirks. “So... about that night. You took him home, right?” She gives you a knowing look. “Did anything happen?”

You quickly shake your head, keeping your tone light. “Nothing happened.”

Jane raises a brow. “Nothing?”

“Nothing,” you insist, glancing away.

You sigh, but before you can say anything else, Jane shifts gears. “Well, whatever. I just hope you’re not looking for a thing with him.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs, hands in her pockets. “I mean, Chris would be a lot to handle. He’s not just—” she gestures vaguely, “—big in that way, but he’s also charming, super friendly, and he just knows his way around girls.” She gives you a look. “And you know what they say with guys with big dicks, they're fucking insatiable and I'm talking about him not getting it enough with just one girl.”

You don’t respond right away, but your gaze flickers toward Chris again. There are a few girls gathered around him, clearly drawn in by whatever he’s saying. He’s smiling, laughing at something, effortlessly charismatic. You watch as one of them leans in a little closer, her eyes bright with interest.

Jane turns back to you, tilting her head with a knowing smile. “Do you like him?”

You immediately shake your head. “No.”

Her smirk deepens. “You sure?”

You exhale, rolling your shoulders back. “Chris is just the product manager. That’s all he is to me.”

Jane gives you a long, doubtful look, as if waiting for you to crack under pressure. But you meet her gaze with firm resolve. “What happened between us was strictly professional,” you say, keeping your voice steady. “And even that has ended.”

For a moment, she studies you, as if weighing your words. Then, to your relief, she shrugs. “If you say so.”

Before she can push the conversation any further, her eyes catch on something across the expo hall. “Oh! That looks interesting—come on.” She grabs your wrist, tugging you toward a display booth showcasing the latest advancements in health supplements.

You let her pull you along, glad for the distraction. But even as Jane chatters away about the product, your mind drifts back to Chris. The way he smiled at those girls. The way Jane’s words linger in your head.

He would be a lot to handle. You shake the thought away, forcing yourself to focus. This expo is about your work, not him.

You step off the stage, your heart still pounding from the adrenaline rush of your presentation. The applause is still ringing in your ears, and you let out a breath, feeling a mix of excitement and relief. Months of work, endless testing, late nights—it all led to this moment, and seeing the positive reception fills you with a deep sense of accomplishment.

As you make your way backstage, a familiar voice calls out, “Hey, great job up there.”

You turn to see Chris walking toward you, his expression warm with approval.

“You really killed it,” he praises, his eyes shining with genuine admiration. “I knew you’d do great, but you exceeded expectations.”

You offer him a small smile, still catching your breath. “Thanks… I appreciate that. And, well, thanks for everything. I wouldn’t have gotten here without your help.”

Chris chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t sell yourself short. This was all you.”

Before you can respond, a voice calls out from behind him. “Chris!”

You glance past him to see a woman waving him over, her expression expectant. Chris turns his head, then looks back at you with an apologetic smile. “I gotta go, but I’ll see you later at the party, yeah?”

You nod, keeping your expression neutral. “Yeah. See you.”

He gives you one last smile before heading off, leaving you standing there, still buzzing with adrenaline—but now with something else stirring inside you.

Just as you’re collecting yourself, Jane comes barging in, her energy overwhelming as she practically throws herself at you in a hug. “You did it!” she exclaims, squeezing you tight. “That was amazing! You looked so confident up there, and the way you handled the Q&A—ugh, I’m so proud of you!”

You laugh, hugging her back. “Thanks, Jane. Seriously.”

She pulls away, grinning. “So, are you ready for the party?”

You hesitate, exhaling slowly. “I don’t know… I’m exhausted. I kinda just want to go home and sleep.”

Jane gasps dramatically, grabbing your shoulders. “Absolutely not. You worked your ass off for this, and now it’s time to celebrate!”

You sigh, knowing there’s no way she’s letting you out of this. “You’re really not giving me a choice, are you?”

“Not at all,” she says smugly. “Now, come on! We’re getting you a drink, and you’re going to have fun whether you like it or not.”

In the restroom, you step out of the stall wearing the dress Jane brought for you, adjusting the hem as you take in your reflection. The fabric hugs you in all the right places with a plunging neckline, a little more daring than what you’d usually pick, but Jane insisted on something fun.

Jane grins when she sees you. “Damn, you clean up nice,” she teases. “Now, stand still.”

She spins you toward the mirror, pulling out her makeup bag. You sigh but let her get to work, tilting your chin up as she starts applying foundation.

“So,” she says casually, dabbing at your face, “did you invite Han to the party?”

You blink. “No. Why would I?”

Jane scoffs. “Because he’s totally into you.”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t want to lead him on.”

“That’s exactly why you should be dating him,” she argues, moving on to your eyeliner. “Han is fun, he’s hot, and he likes you. If you’re looking for someone, it should be him.”

You chuckle. “I think you just want to live vicariously through me.”

“I know I’m right,” Jane insists, finishing up and stepping back to admire her work. “Now, let’s check ourselves out.”

The two of you stand in front of the mirror, adjusting your hair and outfits. Jane rummages through her bag, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Oh, I picked up some fun things from the expo,” she says, pulling out a small bottle and casually dropping it into your purse.

You frown, reaching in to inspect it. “Jane—”

She smirks. “It's edible lube. Watermelon flavor. You’re very welcome.”

The company truly knows how to throw a party and it's im full swing by the time you arrive, the venue buzzing with chatter, laughter, and music. Your team is already a few drinks in, celebrating the success of the launch, and Jane wastes no time in dragging you to the bar for a drink.

“To your big night!” she toasts, clinking her glass against yours. You take a sip, letting the burn of the alcohol settle some of your lingering nerves from the day.

As the night progresses, you weave through conversations, occasionally laughing at Jane’s antics as she flirts with someone from another department. The atmosphere is lively, but you can’t shake the slight unease bubbling in your chest.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you catch a familiar figure—Chris. He’s standing across the room, engaged in conversation with a group of people. He’s relaxed, holding a drink in one hand, his smile easy and charming. There’s a girl next to him, leaning in a little too closely, whispering something in his ear. He chuckles at whatever she says, tilting his head toward her.

Despite your efforts to steer clear of him, you feel his gaze on you from across the room. When you glance up, just for a second, you catch him watching you—his eyes dark and unreadable. The moment your gazes meet, your breath catches, and you quickly look away, pretending to be engrossed in whatever Jane is saying.

You turn toward the bar, ordering another drink just to keep yourself occupied. When you risk another glance, Chris is still there, but this time, he takes a step forward, as if he’s about to come over.

Panic flutters in your chest, and before he can get any closer, you spin around and slip into the crowd, weaving between groups of people, keeping yourself moving.

For the rest of the night, you make a conscious effort to avoid him. Every time you sense him nearby, you casually shift in the opposite direction, always staying just out of reach. You laugh a little too loudly at Jane’s jokes, engage in meaningless conversations with your coworkers, and keep your attention anywhere but on him. But even as you try to act normal, you can’t shake the feeling that Chris notices exactly what you’re doing.

The noise of the party fades behind you as you slip out of the building, the cool night air washing over your skin. You let out a slow breath, relieved to finally be away from the crowd—and more importantly, away from Chris.

Pulling out your phone, you open the ride-hailing app and quickly request a taxi. As you wait, you cross your arms, tapping your fingers against your sleeve, your mind still racing from the night's events.

Just as you exhale and glance down at your phone, you feel a firm hand on your shoulder. Your breath catches, and you spin around, startled.

Chris stands there, his eyes immediately locked onto yours. The streetlights cast a soft glow over his face, highlighting the slight furrow in his brows. "I'm assuming you were avoiding me all night," he says, his tone light but eyes sharp.

You shake your head a little too quickly. "No, I wasn’t."

He chuckles at your poor attempt at denial, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Right. So it’s just a coincidence that every time I looked your way, you turned and disappeared?"

You press your lips together, feeling caught but unwilling to admit it. Instead, you sigh and change the subject. "Why are you out here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be inside celebrating?"

Chris tilts his head slightly. "I could ask you the same thing. The product launch was a huge success for you—you should be celebrating, not sneaking off like this."

You shrug, keeping your tone casual. "I'm just exhausted."

His smirk softens into something more thoughtful. "Then let me give you a ride home."

You open your mouth to refuse, grasping for an excuse. "You’ve probably had a few drinks. You should stay and enjoy the party."

Chris shakes his head. "I only had one drink." Then, with a small smile, he adds, "I was too busy looking for you all night."

Getting no answer from you, he tries again, his smile never faltering. “Come on, just let me drive you home.”

You hesitate, shifting on your feet. “Chris, it’s fine. I can just take a taxi.”

He exhales, tilting his head. “You’re really gonna make me go back to the party alone after I spent all night looking for you?” His tone is teasing, but there’s an underlying sincerity in his voice.

You cross your arms. “You don’t have to leave just because I am.”

“But I want to.” He takes a step closer, his voice softer now. “Let me take you home.”

You sigh, knowing he won’t drop it. And truthfully, you’re too tired to argue. “Fine,” you mumble.

The car ride is quiet, the city lights flashing by as Chris drives steadily through the streets. You’re still processing everything—the party, the launch, the exhaustion weighing down on you—when Chris suddenly speaks.

"Are you free next weekend?"

You blink, caught off guard. "Huh?" You turn to look at him, your voice coming out in a stammer. "Why?"

Chris keeps his eyes on the road, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. "You’ve been exhausted and stressed these past few weeks. I figured you could use a break, so I want to take you somewhere to relax."

Your brows knit together. "You don’t have to do that."

"But I want to," he says simply, glancing at you with a small smile. "Besides, as a product manager, I have to take care of my hardworking employee."

You narrow your eyes at him. "That’s a lame excuse."

Chris chuckles. "Maybe. But it’s still valid." Then, as if sensing your hesitation, he quickly adds, "And don’t worry—there’ll be no more tests." His voice dips into something teasing, but the reassurance is clear.

When he finally pulls the car to a stop in front of your apartment building, you reach for the door handle, pausing only to turn to him. “Thanks for the ride home,” you say softly.

Chris doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, his eyes find yours in the dim light of the dashboard, holding your gaze with an intensity that makes you hold your breath. There’s something in his expression, something that makes your stomach twist in a way you’re not sure how to interpret.

"Goodnight," he finally says, his voice quieter, deeper.

You inhale sharply, steadying yourself before replying, “Goodnight.” Then, without another word, you step out of the car, shutting the door behind you.

As you stand there, you watch as Chris’s car pulls away, the red taillights glowing in the darkness before disappearing around the corner. Only then do you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, turning to head inside, your thoughts a tangled mess.

The idea of expanding the line has been on your mind ever since the expo, and now that the product is officially launching, it's the perfect time to start thinking ahead. You're deep in your work, staring intently at your computer screen as you run through potential formulas for new product variants.

Just as you’re making notes on potential ingredients, Jane suddenly appears beside you, leaning over your shoulder. “What are you working on now?” she asks, her voice laced with curiosity.

Before you can answer, she gasps, her eyes widening as she spots your screen. “Wait a second—flavored condoms?” She immediately claps her hands together, practically vibrating with excitement. “You should totally make a chocolate-strawberry one!”

You turn to give her a judging look without saying a word.

“Come on!” she cuts in, grinning. “Think about it. It’s classic, it’s romantic, it’s delicious.” She waggles her eyebrows at you. “And I bet Chris would love it.”

Your face heats up instantly. “Jane!”

She chuckles as she leans against your desk, watching you type away. “You know,” she starts, crossing her arms, “most people take a break after successfully launching a product. Maybe go on a vacation, treat themselves, do something fun.”

You keep your eyes on the screen. “I am doing something fun,” you say dryly, adjusting some of your notes.

Jane scoffs. “Oh yeah, I can totally see the excitement radiating off you. You should allow yourself to slack off once in a while.”

You roll your eyes. “Slacking off isn’t going to help me develop new product variants.”

She rolls her eyes at you and then she slams her hands on the table. “I’m suggesting that we take a trip this weekend. We can go to the beach, a spa, or even a nice hotel with a rooftop pool. You need a break.”

Her suggestion actually sounds nice. You could use a weekend away, just relaxing with Jane, free from all the stress of work. But then you remember Chris and his just as tempting offer.

You hesitate, torn between the two options. You don’t want to say no to Chris—especially after the way he looked at you that night, like he genuinely wanted to take care of you. But at the same time, you don’t want to reject Jane either.

As if the thought summons him, Chris walks into the elevator. You tense slightly, caught off guard by his sudden presence. Of all places and times, you didn’t expect to run into him here.

He stands beside you, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable as the doors slide shut. The air in the elevator feels thick with unspoken words, but neither of you say anything at first.

Then, Chris finally breaks the silence. “You don’t need to pack a lot of things for tomorrow.”

You blink, turning to him in confusion. “Tomorrow?”

Chris finally looks at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

Your mouth parts slightly, realization hitting you. So he just decided that you’re going with him? No further discussion? Before you can even think of what to say, the elevator dings, reaching the parking basement.

Chris steps out first, turning back just slightly to say, “See you tomorrow.”

Saturday morning arrives, and your bag sits neatly packed by the door. You stand a few feet away, staring at it, arms crossed, deep in thought. You haven’t really accepted either Jane’s or Chris’s offer, yet here you are, packed and ready for something. The indecision gnaws at you. If you go with Jane, you’ll get a fun, carefree trip, but if you go with Chris…

You sigh, pressing your fingers against your temples. You don’t even know why you’re hesitating so much. It’s just a trip, right? Just a short getaway to relax, exactly what Jane has been telling you to do. But Chris is the one who planned this. He wants to take you somewhere to relax.

Your phone buzzes on the table, snapping you out of your thoughts. You hesitate before walking over and picking it up. It's a message from Chris.

I’m on my way.

Your stomach flips. So that’s it—he’s already coming. You can still change your mind. You can still text Jane and tell her to meet up instead. But as you stare at your phone screen, you realize you’re not typing. You’re just waiting.

A few minutes later, your phone rings, the sound cutting through the quiet of your apartment. You glance at the screen—Chris. You hesitate before answering. “Hello?”

“I’m outside,” he says smoothly. “Take your time, but I just wanted to let you know I’m here.”

Your heart does an odd little flip at his voice. You walk toward the window, peeking through the curtains. And there he is—standing by his car, dressed casually in a plain t-shirt and jeans, yet somehow still managing to look effortlessly good. He leans against the side of the car, one hand in his pocket, his gaze occasionally flickering toward the building entrance as he waits for you.

You swallow. This is really happening. “…Okay. I’ll be down in a minute.”

Chris hums in approval. “See you soon.”

The call ends, and you exhale, glancing back at your packed bag. There’s no turning back now.

After two hours of driving, Chris finally pulls into the grand entrance of a luxurious hotel, nestled away from the city’s chaos. The moment you step out of the car, you take in the stunning surroundings—the peaceful scenery, the fresh air, and the sheer elegance of the place.

“You brought me here?” you ask, looking up at the towering hotel.

Chris smirks as he hands his keys to the valet. “Yeah. This is where you can fully relax.”

You follow him inside, still in awe. The lobby is just as grand as the exterior—high ceilings, warm lighting, and a sense of tranquility that makes you realize just how tense you’ve been lately.

At the check-in counter, Chris handles everything smoothly, and before you know it, the two of you are in the elevator, heading up to your suite.

When you enter, your breath catches. The place is massive—spacious living area, floor-to-ceiling windows with a breathtaking view, and elegant decor that makes it feel like something out of a travel magazine.

Chris sets his bag down and stretches. “Nice, huh?”

“Nice?” you echo. “This is… way too much.”

He shrugs casually. “Hey, it's okay to spoil yourself once in a while.”

Before you can overthink it, Chris gestures toward the rooms. “Oh, and before you start panicking, I booked a suite with two bedrooms.” He smirks when he glances back at you. “What? Did you think I was gonna make you share a bed with me?”

You huff, crossing your arms. “I wasn’t panicking.”

He chuckles, clearly amused. “Sure you weren’t.”

You grab your bag and head straight for your bedroom, needing a moment to yourself. The suite is spacious, luxurious even, but all you can focus on is the fact that you and Chris are here alone. No Jane, no work, no distractions—just the two of you.

As you unzip your bag and start unpacking, the realization settles in your stomach. You haven't spent this much uninterrupted time with Chris before, not without some work-related excuse to keep things professional. And now, here you are, in a beautiful hotel, just the two of you—

“Hey.”

You jump slightly at the sound of his voice. Turning around, you see Chris leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with an easy smile.

“What do you want to do first?” he asks.

You quickly look away, busying yourself with your bag. “I don’t know. What did you have in mind?”

He hums, as if considering his options. “We could check out the pool, go to the spa, take a walk around… or we could just stay in and order room service.”

The way he says it, with that teasing lilt in his voice, makes you glance at him suspiciously. He chuckles at your reaction but doesn’t push.

After some deliberation, you and Chris end up choosing the spa. A little relaxation doesn’t sound too bad after the past few stressful weeks.

The spa receptionist greets you both warmly, checking the reservation. “Ah, here it is! A couple’s spa package for Mr. and Mrs. Bang.”

Your head snaps toward Chris, eyes narrowing in suspicion. He only grins, utterly unbothered, and shrugs innocently. “Must’ve been a mix-up,” he says, feigning cluelessness.

You don’t buy it for a second, you tilt your head and narrow your eyes suspiciously at him.

He laughs, placing a hand over his chest. “What? It’s just easier to book that way.”

You roll your eyes but don’t push it. The receptionist leads you both to the spa room, explaining the treatments you’ll be getting.

After a relaxing and rejuvenating massage session, the next thing is to soak your bodies in the hot tub. The water is warm, wrapping around you like a soft embrace, steam rising in delicate wisps around the edges of the tub. Your body feels weightless, your muscles still loose from the earlier massage, but your mind is anything but relaxed. Because right next to you, Chris is lounging, his bare shoulders glistening with moisture, his skin slightly reddened from the heat.

You’re sitting close—so close that your legs occasionally brush under the water, sending small ripples between you. The scent of essential oils lingers in the air, mixing with the faint traces of Chris’s cologne, now softened by the steam. His body, partially submerged, is strong and toned, his chest rising and falling in an easy rhythm. The water laps at his skin, highlighting the definition of his collarbones, the faint flush of heat trailing down his neck and over his chest.

Chris tilts his head back slightly, eyes half-lidded as he exhales a deep sigh. “This isn’t so bad, huh?” he muses, voice low and lazy, like he’s savoring the moment.

You nod, though you’re barely paying attention to his words. The atmosphere is thick—something about the closeness, the warmth, the way the steam clings to both of you, makes it hard to breathe.

Then, he shifts. Just slightly, but enough that your arms brush, and you swear you feel the heat of his skin even through the water. Your heart stumbles in your chest, but you force yourself to stay composed.

Chris glances at you from the side, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. “You’re quiet.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m just enjoying the peace.”

His smirk widens, and he leans in just a fraction. “So, do I make a good husband?”

You scoff, flicking a small splash of water his way. “I knew you put ‘Mr. and Mrs. Bang’ on purpose.”

Instead of coming up with another of his witty remarks, his hand reaches up. His fingertips graze your cheek as he tucks a damp strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

The steam swirls around you, the water lapping softly as you lock eyes with him. And suddenly, it’s there—that pull, that tension that’s been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

Chris’s lips part slightly, as if he’s about to say something. But then, just as quickly as it came, he exhales, leans back, and lets the moment slip away. The warmth remains, though—not just from the water, but from the ghost of his touch on your skin.

The hotel room is quiet except for the TV faintly playing from the living area, but your mind is anything but still. The warmth from the spa still lingers on your skin, but there’s also something else—something unspoken that settled between you and Chris in that hot tub.

You stand in front of the mirror, adjusting your dress and smoothing out the fabric. A knock on the door startles you and before you can answer, the door creaks open, and Chris steps inside, leaning against the doorframe. His casual stance contrasts with the way his gaze lingers on you, like he’s momentarily forgotten why he came here in the first place.

You shift under his stare. “What?”

His lips parting slightly before he huffs a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Nothing. I just—” He pauses, finally pulling his eyes away to clear his throat. “I was gonna ask if Mexican food sounds good for dinner.”

You nod. “Mexican food sounds great.”

A small smile tugs at his lips, and then there it is again—that look. Soft, lingering, like he’s seeing something he shouldn’t but can’t help himself.

The air thickens between you. But just as quickly as it comes, he straightens, pushing off the doorframe. “Alright.”

You barely get a word out before he turns and leaves, the door clicking shut behind him. You exhale, staring at the door for a moment before turning back to the mirror. Your reflection looks just as confused as you feel.

It only takes a ten minutes of walk to get to the restaurant. It is lively, filled with chatter, laughter, and upbeat music playing in the background. The casual, fun atmosphere helps ease some of the tension sitting in your chest since earlier, and you’re grateful for it. It feels like a normal dinner—just two colleagues unwinding after a stressful few weeks.

Chris sits across from you, his elbows resting on the table as he scans the menu. Then, out of nowhere, he glances up at you and smirks.

“You look really nice tonight,” he says, voice low but clear over the music.

Your fingers pause on the menu, heat creeping up your neck. “Thanks, Chris,” you murmur, trying to focus on the list of dishes instead of the way he’s looking at you.

The waiter comes with the drinks first and Chris wastes no time to initiate a toast. He lifts his glass, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "To a well-deserved break," he says, eyes locked on yours.

You mirror his action, tapping your glass lightly against his. "To a well-deserved break," you echo, feeling the warmth of the moment settle between you.

Just as you're about to take a sip, a voice interrupts.

"Now, this is a sight I wasn't expecting."

You freeze, lowering your glass as you turn toward the voice.

Han Jisung stands beside your table, hands in his pockets, wearing that signature playful smirk. His gaze flickers between you and Chris before settling on you, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Fancy running into you here," Han says, tilting his head. "And with such fine company, too."

You slowly set your glass down, eyebrows raising in mild surprise. "Han?"

Han grins. "What, no warm welcome?" He pulls out a chair from the empty table beside you and plops down like he belongs there. "I mean, I know you’re glad to see me.”

You exhale a shaky, awkward laugh. "What are you doing here?"

Han nonchalantly shrugs. "My favorite musicians are doing this coaching clinic but now..." He looks back at you, eyes gleaming with mischief. "I believe love brought me here."

Han stays exactly where he is, making himself comfortable as if he was invited. The waiter comes by, and without missing a beat, Han orders a drink for himself before turning his full attention back to you.

“So,” he starts, leaning his elbows on the table. “Are you two dating?”

You almost choke on your sip of water. “No!”

Chris raises an eyebrow at your immediate denial but says nothing.

Han hums, tilting his head. “Really? You’re having a private dinner, in a fancy hotel, after spending the whole day together.” He taps his chin, pretending to think. “Sounds very date-like to me.”

You shake your head, trying to keep your voice even. “Chris is the product manager. I’m just an employee.”

Han leans back in his chair, grinning. “That so?” He flicks his gaze to Chris, then back to you. “Then I guess that means I still have a chance.”

Chris exhales a small laugh, shaking his head as he picks up his drink. "You're really saying that in front of me?"

Han just smirks, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “What? I’d rather be upfront than sneak around.”

You don’t respond, feeling the weight of both their gazes on you. Instead, you take a slow sip of your drink, pretending you didn’t hear the question at all.

Chris doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he’s watching your reaction closely. The energy at the table shifts, tension weaving itself into the playful conversation. This dinner is turning out to be far more complicated than you expected.

After dinner, Han stretches his arms above his head and flashes you both an easy grin. “Alright, since I crashed your dinner, how about another round of drinks? My treat.”

You open your mouth to decline, but Han quickly raises a hand. “Ah, ah. No excuses. I insist.”

Chris exhales through his nose, glancing at you before shrugging. “Guess we don’t have a choice, huh?”

Han smirks. “Exactly.”

And that’s how you find yourself nursing another drink while Han chatters away, switching between teasing you and throwing light jabs at Chris. The atmosphere is playful, but there's an underlying tension—one you can’t quite put your finger on.

After a while, Han glances toward the back of the bar where a pool table sits unoccupied. “Hey, Chris,” he says, nudging his shoulder. “How about a round of billiards?”

Chris barely looks up from his glass. “Nah, I’m good.”

Han clicks his tongue. “Come on, what’s the matter? Scared I’ll wipe the floor with you?”

Chris scoffs, finally looking up. “I just don’t feel like playing.”

Han leans in, grinning. “Or maybe you don’t want to play in front of her because you’re bad at it.”

Chris rolls his eyes, but you can see the challenge sinking in. He takes a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass down. “Alright, fine. One round.”

Han’s grin widens. “That’s the spirit.”

And just like that, they both get up, leaving you caught between them. You sit there, unsure whether you should follow or stay put. But then Han turns and gives you a wink. “Come on, you should watch. It'll be fun.”

You stand near the pool table, watching as Han and Chris take their turns. It’s hard not to admire them, each in their own way. Han plays with an easy confidence, spinning the cue in his hand between shots, throwing playful smirks in your direction every time he sinks a ball. He knows you’re watching—thrives on it, even—and winks at you whenever your eyes linger on him for too long. Chris, on the other hand, is completely focused. He lines up each shot with precise calculation, his movements fluid and controlled. He doesn’t notice the way you stare as he leans over the table, one hand bracing against the felt, the other guiding the cue through the gap of his thumb and index finger. His execution is flawless, the sharp crack of the cue ball meeting its target reverberating through the air before the ball rolls cleanly into the pocket.

Your gaze lingers a little too long on the way his shirt stretches across his back as he moves, the flex of his forearms, the quiet concentration etched into his face.

The game becomes more intense as it nears its end, the atmosphere thick with unspoken competition. Chris is leading—by a lot—but Han remains unfazed, leaning casually against the pool table as he watches Chris line up his next shot, stretching his shoulder before finally taking it.

“You’re scarily good at this,” you comment, watching as Chris smoothly sinks another ball.

Chris smirks, straightening up as he twirls the cue stick in his hand. “Just lucky.”

Han chuckles at that, shaking his head. “Bullshit. You knew exactly how that shot was going to play out.”

Chris only shrugs, his smirk widening. “Guess I’m just built different.”

You stifle a laugh, but Han only grins, completely unfazed by his impending loss. He rests his hip against the edge of the table, spinning his cue between his fingers as he glances at you. “Don’t you think Chris should’ve warned me that he’s a pro before I agreed to this game?”

You glance between them, lips twitching. “I mean… you were the one who challenged him.”

Chris hums in agreement as he leans down for his next shot, his muscles flexing subtly beneath his shirt. “Exactly. I was just minding my own business.”

Han tilts his head, smirking. “And yet, here we are.”

Chris doesn’t respond, only focusing on his final shot. The cue ball strikes cleanly, sending the last striped ball into the pocket with ease. The eight-ball is next, and Han watches, unfazed, as Chris lines up the winning shot.

“Make it quick, champ,” Han drawls, stepping back. “Put me out of my misery.”

Chris exhales a quiet chuckle before smoothly sinking the eight-ball. The moment the ball drops into the pocket, he straightens up, placing the cue stick on the table with a victorious smirk.

“Well,” Han sighs dramatically, “I suppose I should’ve known better than to challenge the product manager.”

Chris grins, holding out a hand. “Good game.”

Han eyes it for a moment before shaking it with a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. You got me this time.” Then he turns to you, flashing that familiar playful glint in his eyes. “Now, how about a consolation drink?”

Chris holds up a hand at him. “No, thank you. We're heading back to our room.”

Han raises a brow at Chris’s refusal, but the glint in his eyes shows his amusement. “Calling it a night already?”

Chris shrugs, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. We’ve got an early morning.”

Han hums knowingly, then glances at you. “What about you? No celebratory drink with the loser?”

Before you can answer, Chris smoothly cuts in, “She’s had enough for tonight.” Then, without missing a beat, he tilts his head at Han. “Are you covering the drinks?”

Han exhales a laugh, shaking his head at the sudden change in subject. “Yeah, yeah. I got it.”

Chris grins. “Appreciate it, man.” He gives Han a pat on the back before stepping beside you, placing a hand on the small of your back in an easy, natural motion. “We’ll see you around.”

You barely have time to react before Chris is guiding you toward the exit, the warmth of his hand lingering against your spine. You glance over your shoulder to see Han still smirking, watching the two of you leave as if he just lost a game bigger than billiards.

You look over your shoulder at Han and softly mutters, “Goodnight, Han.”

Chris doesn’t look back. If anything, he carries himself like a champion walking away with his prize.

Back in the hotel suite, you kick off your shoes with a sigh, feeling the exhaustion from the night settle in. Chris locks the door behind him, rolling his shoulders as he stretches.

Just as you’re about to head to your bedroom, you pause and turn to him. “Why did you tell Han we have an early morning tomorrow?”

Chris leans against the back of the couch, looking completely at ease. “Because we do.”

You narrow your eyes. “Since when?”

“Since I decided I’m taking you to look around the town tomorrow,” he replies smoothly.

You blink at him. “You just made that up on the spot, didn’t you?”

Chris grins. “Maybe. But it’s a good idea, isn’t it?”

You exhale, crossing your arms as you study him. He doesn’t seem the least bit guilty about throwing you into plans you didn’t even know existed. Instead, he just watches you expectantly, waiting for your reaction.

After a moment, you shake your head with a small laugh. “Fine.”

Just as you turn toward your bedroom, Chris’s voice stops you. “You couldn’t stop staring at me back there.”

You freeze, then slowly turn to see him smirking, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the couch. “I—what?” you stammer.

“At the pool table,” he continues, tilting his head slightly. “You were watching me the whole time. Were you impressed?” His smirk deepens, eyes gleaming with mischief.

Heat rushes to your face. “I—I was just watching the game,” you sputter, trying to sound nonchalant, but you know you’re failing miserably.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Mmm-hmm. Sure.”

You scowl at him, determined to regain control of the situation. “Goodnight, Chris.”

Then, before he can say anything else, you spin around and march into your bedroom, shutting the door a little too quickly behind you. On the other side of the door, you swear you can hear him chuckling to himself.

You must admit that you had one of the nicest sleep last night and you wake up feeling so refreshed. You step out of your bedroom, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, only to freeze mid-step.

Chris’s door swings open a moment later, and he walks out, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. His shirtless torso is on full display—his toned abs, the defined lines of his muscles, the way his sweatpants hang low on his hips. And then… there’s the very obvious outline beneath them. Your eyes widen before you can stop yourself.

Chris catches your stare almost instantly, and instead of covering up or acting embarrassed, he grins. “Morning.” His voice is still rough with sleep, lazy and amused.

You snap your gaze up to his face, your cheeks heating instantly. “Morning,” you mutter, pretending you didn’t just get caught blatantly looking.

Chris smirks as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest. “You okay?”

“I—yeah, of course.” You clear your throat, quickly moving toward where the phone is to distract yourself. “I'll order breakfast.”

Chris chuckles under his breath as he walks past you, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. “Sure. But take your time.” His voice drops a little. “Seems like you need a moment.”

You don’t dare look at him as you pick up the phone to call room service, but you can feel his gaze lingering on you, his amusement practically radiating through the air.

The town is lively, filled with the buzz of locals and tourists alike. Cobblestone streets wind between charming shops and cafés, and the air carries the scent of freshly baked bread and roasted coffee.

You and Chris walk side by side through the bustling streets, taking in the sights. He’s dressed casually in a thin black sweater and jeans, hands tucked into the pockets, his sunglasses perched on his nose. Every so often, he glances at you, making sure you’re keeping up, and when the crowd gets too thick, his hand brushes against the small of your back, guiding you through.

“This place is nice,” you comment, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. “It’s got that old-town charm.”

Chris nods in agreement and then he tilts his head toward the main plaza. “Come on. There’s a really good café around the corner.”

The café is small yet cozy, the kind of place that feels warm and welcoming the moment you step inside. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and buttery pastries lingers in the air as you and Chris settle into a corner table. He orders for both of you—croissants, a slice of cake to share, and two lattes.

“Try this,” Chris says, pushing a forkful of cake toward you. You roll your eyes but take a bite, the sweetness melting on your tongue.

Just as you’re about to comment on how good it is, your phone buzzes in your pocket. When you pull it out, Jane’s name flashes on the screen.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell Chris, grabbing your phone and stepping outside to take the call.

The cool air greets you as you press the phone to your ear. “Hey.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” Jane says immediately, skipping the pleasantries. “You’re not sick.”

You let out a sigh, you should have keep your phone turned off after sending a text to her that you couldn't go on a trip with her because you don’t feel well. “Okay, fine. You caught me.”

“So? Where are you?”

You hesitate before admitting, “I’m… on a trip. With Chris.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then— “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. So, you and Chris are dating?”

“What? No!” You shake your head, glancing over your shoulder through the café window where Chris is stirring his coffee, completely unaware of your conversation. “It’s just... a trip. That’s all.”

Jane hums, unconvinced. “Right.”

“It is,” you insist.

“Mm-hmm,” Jane drags out the sound, then casually adds, “Don’t say I didn't warn you.”

You frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Jane snickers. “I’m just saying, be careful.”

Before you can demand further clarification, she hangs up, leaving you standing there with a million thoughts running through your head.

When you return to the table, Chris raises a brow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you say quickly, sinking into your seat. You take a sip of your latte, but your mind is elsewhere, Jane’s words echoing in your head.

Chris is watching you closely, like he can tell something’s off. “You sure?”

You nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah.”

The next stop on your sightseeing trip leads you to a bustling street lined with small vendors, each stall displaying an array of handcrafted trinkets, souvenirs, and snacks. The soft jingle of wind chimes mixes with the hum of conversation, and your eyes wander over the colorful selection of charm keychains at one of the stalls.

Chris reaches for a pair of matching ones—tiny silver pendants shaped like crescent moons. “What do you think?” he asks, turning to you with a small smile. “Should we get matching ones?”

You blink at him, caught off guard. “Why?”

Chris tilts his head slightly, looking genuinely confused. “I don’t know. Just thought it’d be nice.”

You let out a sigh, the question that’s been gnawing at you finally slipping out. “Chris… why are you doing this?”

His brows furrow. “Doing what?”

“This,” you say, motioning vaguely between the two of you. “Taking me on this trip, buying matching keychains—acting like we’re…” You trail off, shaking your head.

Chris doesn’t answer immediately, his fingers still loosely holding the keychains.

“I mean, I’m thankful for everything,” you continue, your voice softer now. “You helped me with the product, you were there for the launch, and I really appreciate it. But I just… I don’t understand why you’re doing all of this.”

Still, he doesn’t say anything. His lips part slightly as if he’s about to speak, but no words come out.

You sigh, feeling a sudden wave of frustration—not just at him, but at yourself, at the situation, at the uncertainty pressing against your chest. “I don’t— I don’t even know why I’m here,” you mumble before turning on your heel and walking away, leaving Chris standing there in front of the vendor, still holding the matching charms.

“I don’t need you anymore, Chris,” you blurt out and it's coming out harsher than you intended to.

Before you know it, you walk away, your steps quick and uneven, as the inexplicable anger coils tighter in your chest. You don’t understand why you feel this way—why the warmth of the day suddenly feels suffocating, why Chris’s kindness is making you uneasy instead of flattered.

You weave through the crowd, barely registering the faces passing by. Your pulse pounds in your ears, and your thoughts race in circles. Maybe it’s because Jane’s words are still ringing in your mind. Maybe it’s because you don’t know what Chris wants from you. Or maybe it’s because a part of you is scared to admit that you want something from him, too.

Before you can overthink it any further, you spot a taxi idling by the curb. Without hesitation, you flag it down and slip into the backseat, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

As the taxi pulls away, you rest your head against the window, watching the streets blur past. You try to shake off the tight feeling in your chest, but it lingers, stubborn and heavy.

When you finally arrive at the hotel, you step out of the taxi with a heavy breath, your emotions still tangled. You don’t want to go back to the suite—not yet. The idea of facing Chris again, of sitting in the silence of your thoughts, feels unbearable.

So, instead of heading toward the elevators, you make a sharp turn down the hallway, following the soft hum of music and conversation until you reach the hotel bar.

The dim lighting casts a warm glow over the space, the air thick with the scent of aged liquor and citrus. A few patrons are scattered around, some in quiet conversations, others lost in their own world with a drink in hand. You slide onto a stool at the bar, exhaling as you prop your elbows against the counter.

The bartender approaches, offering a polite smile. “What can I get you?”

You hesitate for only a second. “Whiskey, neat.”

The bartender nods before turning away, and you press your lips together, trying to push down the lingering frustration in your chest. You tell yourself you just need a moment to breathe, to clear your head. But deep down, you know you’re avoiding more than just Chris.

The warmth of the whiskey spreads through your body, making everything feel a little too soft, a little too slow. You don’t know how many drinks you’ve had by now—just that when you finally stand up from the bar, the room tilts slightly, and your legs feel like they belong to someone else.

You blink, trying to steady yourself, but before you can take another step, a firm hand catches your arm.

"Whoa there," a familiar voice drawls, amused. "Didn't think I'd see you like this tonight."

You look up through the haze, and for a moment, you think—Chris? But no, there’s something off. The grip is steady but playful, the warmth of the body against yours more teasing than concerned.

Your brows furrow as you sway slightly, and he easily shifts to support your weight, slipping an arm around your waist. "Let's get you somewhere before you pass out on me."

You want to protest, but everything is too heavy, and your tongue feels slow. So you just let him guide you, his body pressed close as he half-carries you toward the elevator.

By the time you reach a room, he’s lowering you onto the sofa, his hands lingering just a second longer than necessary before he steps back. You blink blearily up at him, the alcohol making your thoughts sluggish.

"About earlier, I—" you murmur, your words slurred. "I'm sorry, Chris."

You blink a few times, trying to clear the haze in your mind, and when you finally focus on the man in front of you, you realize it’s not Chris—it’s Han.

Han tilts his head, watching your reaction with amusement. “Wow,” he says, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically. “I save you from stumbling around drunk, and you call me by another guy’s name? That hurts, babe.”

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but nothing comes out. You’re too disoriented, too embarrassed.

Han just chuckles, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s get you back to your room before the product manager turns over this place,” he jokingly says, reaching out to help you up from the sofa. His grip is firm but careful as he leans down slightly.

Just as he’s about to pull you up, there’s a knock on the door. Han pauses. You barely register it before he’s already walking over, pulling the door open with his usual ease. And then—

Chris. He stands in the doorway, his expression unreadable, his gaze shifting from Han to you slumped on the sofa. His eyes narrow slightly, taking in the situation.

Han leans against the doorframe, an easy smirk playing on his lips. “You’re bothering us, man,” he says, tilting his head slightly toward you as if the two of you had been in the middle of something.

Chris, unimpressed, ignores him completely and looks at you. “Let’s go back to our room,” he says, his voice firm but not unkind.

Han, however, steps forward, blocking the doorway before Chris can step inside. “What, you think you’re the only one with a big dick?” he taunts, arching a brow. "I can satisfy her just fine."

You fumble, shaking your head, trying to deny whatever this conversation is turning into—but your words come out slurred, incoherent.

Han laughs at your attempt. “See? She can’t even say it properly. Must be overwhelmed.” He turns back to you, lowering his voice slightly, his tone teasing. “Mine is better, right babe?”

Chris scoffs, his jaw ticking. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Han’s smirk widens, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You know what? Let’s ask her,” he says, looking at you expectantly.

You open your mouth, struggling to string together a sentence, but the alcohol has made your thoughts sluggish. Your gaze bounces between the two men, their contrasting expressions—Chris, standing tall and tense, and Han, relaxed and enjoying every second of this.

Then Han grins down at you. “We both know you like mine better.”

And that’s when it just bursts out of you—louder than you intended, words tumbling before you can stop them.

“I like Chris!”

Silence.

Both men freeze, their gazes snapping to you. Your brain catches up a second too late, and your eyes widen in horror as you quickly scramble to correct yourself.

“I—I mean, I like Chris’s dick better!”

Chris exhales sharply, a sound dangerously close to a laugh, and when you dare glance up at him, you can see it—he’s trying not to smile. His lips twitch, amusement flickering in his eyes despite the situation.

Han, on the other hand, whistles lowly. “Damn. Didn’t even have to try that hard.” He shakes his head, feigning disappointment. “I guess that settles it, then.”

Chris doesn’t waste another second. He steps forward, taking you by the hand—not rough, but firm enough to leave no room for argument. “Come on,” he murmurs, guiding you carefully toward the door.

As he leads you out, Han calls after you with a cheeky grin. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me!”

You step out of the bathroom, damp hair clinging to the sides of your face, the cold shower having done its job in sobering you up. As you tighten the belt around your bathrobe, you notice Chris already waiting for you in the suite’s dimly lit living area, a glass of water in his hand.

His gaze lifts the second he hears you, scanning you briefly before he holds the glass out. “Feel better now?” His voice is quiet, careful.

You nod, stepping forward to take the water from him. As you drink, Chris gestures for you to sit on the sofa, and he takes the spot beside you. The room is still, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning, and for a moment, neither of you speak.

Then Chris exhales, breaking the silence. “I’m sorry.”

You put the glass down and hold your hands up at him. “No—I should be the one apologizing. I—”

But Chris shakes his head. “I’m not talking about earlier. Well, not just earlier.” He pauses, shifting slightly so that he’s facing you. “I should’ve been honest with you from the start.”

Your breath catches, sensing the weight in his words. He watches you carefully, he licks his before saying, “I like you.”

The words are soft but firm, spoken as if he’s been holding them in for too long. Chris lets out a quiet, almost self-deprecating chuckle. “I liked you before all of this,” he continues, his fingers rubbing against his knee. “But you never noticed me. And I thought... maybe that meant you weren’t interested.” He hesitates, then sighs. “That’s why I took this whole condom thing as an excuse. Just so I could be close to you.”

Inside your chest, your heart stutters and your lips part slightly, but no words come out. You completely taken aback by his confession.

His eyes search yours, waiting, wanting. Then, with more certainty, he says it again—clearer, deeper. “I like you.”

The room feels smaller, like the air has thickened around you, pressing in with the weight of everything unsaid between you.

“I’m sorry it took me this long to tell you,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, almost hesitant.

Chris doesn’t break eye contact, and in the soft glow of the lamp, you see it—the quiet sincerity, the vulnerability he rarely ever lets show. He’s been waiting for this moment. For you.

Your heart is pounding. You don’t know if it’s from the weight of his confession or the way Chris is looking at you—hopeful, expectant, like he’s holding his breath for your answer. So you kiss him. You lean in without thinking, without hesitating, pressing your lips against his.

Chris responds instantly, a quiet sound of surprise escaping him before he kisses you back, his hand instinctively coming up to cup your cheek. The warmth of his lips, the way he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, the way he pulls you just a little closer—it’s overwhelming, dizzying, and you don’t realize how much you’ve wanted this until now.

When you finally pull away, your breaths are uneven, your hands trembling slightly against him. Chris watches you, his eyes dark and laced with something unreadable—until a slow, teasing smirk spreads across his face.

“So,” he drawls, voice lower now, “does this mean you like me? Or just my extra large dick?”

Your stomach flips, and you immediately fumble for a response. “I—I like you! Of course, I like you—”

Chris raises an eyebrow, still smirking, enjoying how he can easily tease you.

You groan, realizing your mistake. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like your dick—”

Chris bites back a laugh while you sigh in frustration and run a hand through your hair before forcing yourself to take a deep breath. You look at him, trying to keep your voice steady. “What I mean is... your dick is a part of you. And I like you—all of you. As a whole person.”

Then you realize what you just said, and your face heats up instantly.

Chris grins, clearly enjoying your flustered state. He leans in, closing the distance between you again. “I really like when you get flustered like this,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you again.

This time, he kisses you slower, deeper, savoring the moment. And when he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers, “I like you whole too.”

You never thought this was how things would turn out. What started as a professional arrangement—just testing a product, just a temporary thing—became something else entirely. Somewhere between the teasing, the lingering glances, the way Chris always found a way to pull you into his orbit, you fell. Hard.

And now, lying beside him in bed, as you hover over him, your fingers brushing against his jaw before leaning in to kiss him again, you wonder how you ever thought you could keep things casual.

Slowly, his fingers work at the tie of your bathrobe, loosening it with quiet precision. You feel the fabric slacken around you, but he doesn’t push it off just yet. Instead, he looks up at you, his gaze heavy, filled with something you can’t quite put into words.

You pull back just enough to take him in—the way his lips are slightly parted, his hair mussed from your hands, the way his chest rises and falls steadily beneath you.

Chris catches your lingering stare, and a slow grin tugs at his lips. “What are you thinking?” His voice is warm, teasing, but there’s an underlying softness to it.

You hesitate before speaking. “I was just thinking… I never expected this.”

He chuckles as he runs his hand through your hair. “What? That you’d fall for me?”

You briefly look away before shyly denying it. “I didn’t say that.”

He grins, brushing his nose against yours. “You didn’t have to.”

You don’t answer—not with words, at least. Instead, you kiss him again, slower this time, letting yourself sink into the feeling of his lips, the way he responds to you so effortlessly.

As your mouths move together, you feel him shift beneath you, his hands finally sliding the bathrobe off your shoulders, letting it slip from your body. The cool air kisses your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his hands, the way they roam over you with quiet reverence.

Chris hums against your lips, his fingers tracing slow, circular patterns along your back. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper.

You shiver—not from the cold, but from the way he says it. From the way he looks at you, as if you’re something out of this world, ethereal. And then he’s pulling you down again, kissing you deeper, holding you against him like he has no intention of letting go.

The tension in the room only intensifies as your fingers trail down his front, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. Chris exhales softly as your hand moves lower, calmly working open the button of his jeans before tugging down the zipper. He lowly groans when you push the fabric aside, his arousal springing free into your waiting hand.

You wrap your fingers around his cock, feeling the heat of him pulse beneath your touch as you start to lightly stroke him. He groans in response, his head tilting back against the pillows, his hands gripping the nape of your neck as he exhales a shaky breath.

“You’re really not gonna take it slow, huh?” he murmurs, his voice roughened by want, but there’s amusement laced in his words.

You glance up at him, a small, knowing smile tugging at your lips before you lower yourself further, trailing soft kisses down the ridges of his abs. His muscles tense beneath your touch, his breath uneven as you take your time.

Chris watches you with darkened eyes, his lips parted as you move lower still. Your head is hanging only inches from where he wants you the most and you're looking at him with mischievous glints in your eyes. His hand moves to your hair, not guiding, just resting, as if grounding himself in the feeling of you.

Keeping your eyes locked with his, your tongue glides slowly along his length, tracing every ridge and vein as you take your time tasting him. He growls low in his throat, the sound reverberating through the room, his grip tightening in your hair for just a second before he forces himself to relax.

When you finally take him into your mouth, inch by inch, he exhales sharply, his abs flexing beneath your hands. You try to take more of him, but his sheer size makes it difficult, and he notices immediately.

"Take it slow," he murmurs, his voice thick with restraint. His hand cradles the back of your head, not pushing, just guiding. "You're doing so well."

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock and you lick your lips before you try again, taking him slower this time. You let out a soft, breathy sound against him, sending vibrations through his body. He props himself up on one elbow, glancing down to watch you, his gaze dark and filled with something deeper than just desire. The way your lips stretch around him, the warmth of your mouth enveloping him—he can’t tear his eyes away.

"Look at you," he mutters, slipping his fingers through your hair, brushing it back so he can see you better. His thumb grazes your cheek, his touch almost reverent. "Making me feel so good."

You feel the heat of his gaze searing into you, the way his muscles tense beneath your touch, the way his breath shudders out in ragged exhales. Every sound he makes, every soft praise he gives, spurs you on, making you want to push his control to the edge.

“Damn,” he breathes out, voice strained. His fingers thread through your hair, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. “You’re really trying to ruin me, huh?”

Your hand moves in perfect sync with your mouth, gliding along the rest of his length as you work him over with slow, gentle strokes. You can feel him losing his restraint, his fingers gripping your hair a little too tightly as he fights against the pleasure building inside him.

"Shit," he groans, his voice raw, his control slipping fast. You glance up at him through your lashes, meeting his dark, hooded gaze, and that alone seems to push him to the edge.

Before he can warn you, his body shudders, and he spills into your mouth with a sharp, choked sound. The warmth floods your tongue too quickly for you to take it all, and some dribbles past your lips, running down your chin.

Chris curses under his breath, quickly sitting up, his hand cupping your cheek. "I'm sorry—I didn’t mean to—" he starts, his thumb swiping at the mess on your chin, but you just softly smile at him in response. Then, without breaking eye contact, you tilt your head back slightly and swallow.

He watches, his chest rising and falling heavily, his lips parting in awe before he exhales a rough chuckle. His eyes darken with something deeper than just satisfaction.

"That was so fucking hot," he roughly murmurs before pulling you close and kissing you hard.

Chris pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes filled with something intense, something hungry. Before you can react, he tilts your chin up and swipes his tongue along your skin, cleaning up the remnants of his release with slow, little licks. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and before you can even catch your breath, his lips crash into yours again, deep and consuming.

Then, just as quickly, he pulls away and slides off the bed. You watch, dazed, as he strides across the room toward your bag perched on the chair.

Your stomach twists when you realize what he’s doing. "Chris—"

He ignores your protest, rummaging through your belongings with zero shame. "I know you keep them in here," he says, amusement laced in his tone.

You bury your face in your hands, mortified, as he finally retrieves a condom. But instead of returning right away, his fingers pause, and when you peek through your fingers, you see him holding something else. Something small. Something very, very familiar.

Chris turns around, holding up a tiny bottle and you slightly panic remembering the edible lube Jane slipped into your bag after the expo. His smirk deepens as he examines the label. "How did you know I like watermelon?" He quirks a brow at you.

Your face burns, completely flustered and a little mortified. "I—I didn’t!"

He hums, clearly enjoying your embarrassment, before tossing the bottle onto the bed beside you. Then he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Guess we’ll have to put it to good use, then."

Chris pops the cap open with a soft click, and the sweet, fruity scent of watermelon fills the space between you. His gaze flickers up to yours, dark and amused, before he tips the bottle over your skin.

The cool gel dribbles onto your chest, your stomach, the sensitive curves of your breasts. You gasp at the sensation, your body tensing as he smears it over your skin with his broad hands, rubbing slow, teasing circles.

"Sensitive, huh?" His voice is warm with amusement as he smooths the lube over your skin, making sure to spread it evenly. "I’ll be gentle."

You barely have time to process his words before he leans in, his mouth pressing against your collarbone. His tongue swipes against your skin, slow and deliberate, tasting the sticky sweetness. The heat of his mouth contrasts with the cool gel, making you shiver as he works his way down, following the trail he created with his hands.

Chris hums as he licks a stripe up your chest, the vibration sending a fresh wave of tingles down your spine. "Not bad," he murmurs against your skin before he kisses the skin under your navel.

The next thing you know, his lips latch onto your hardening nipple, tugging it between his teeth, sucking at it so hard before finally letting go, leaving your nipple wet and swollen. He does the same with the other one but this time, his hand massaging your ample flesh in reverence, the lube makes his hand glides smoothly across the two mounds before he brings them to the middle, allowing him to take both nipples into his mouth.

You arch under his touch, hands gripping the sheets as he takes his time, licking, tasting, teasing. He’s thorough—almost too thorough—as if savoring every inch of you, dragging the moment out until you’re squirming beneath him, breathless and overstimulated.

Chris finally pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips glistening. He grins, voice husky when he says, "I think I might like watermelon even more now."

He watches you with a teasing glint in his eyes as he puts more lube on your most sensitive spot, his fingers moving with deliberate slowness as he smears it all over your pulsating sex. The cool sensation makes you gasp, your body instinctively arching against his touch. His smirk deepens at your reaction, and he dips his head, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before looking up at you.

“You know,” he muses, dragging his fingers lazily through the slickness between your folds, “this might just be my new favorite flavor.”

Before you can respond, he leans in, his warm mouth pressing against your wetness, his tongue gliding through the sweetness he just applied. The contrast between the cool lube and the heat of his tongue sends a shudder through your body. His hands settle on your hips, holding you steady as he takes his time, savoring every movement.

Chris hums against you, the vibration making you gasp again, and he chuckles at your response. He flicks his tongue over your clit before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips glistening. “You taste even sweeter now,” he says, his voice low and playful.

He doesn’t stop until he feels you tremble beneath him, his grip firm yet reassuring as he holds you in place. The tension coiling deep inside you finally unravels, and a soft cry escapes your lips as waves of pleasure crash over you. He doesn’t pull away immediately, instead, his tongue moving gently to prolong your high until you’re left gasping, your body still humming from the aftershocks.

When he finally lifts his head, his mouth is glistening with your essence, his eyes dark with satisfaction. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand before crawling up your body, settling between your legs as he hovers over you. There’s a teasing smirk on his lips as he leans in, brushing his mouth over yours.

“Told you,” he murmurs against your lips, the heat of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

You don’t need to ask what he means—you can taste it for yourself as he deepens the kiss, letting you chase the sweetness lingering on his tongue. It’s intoxicating, the mix of his warmth and the remnants of your release making your head spin. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, slow and indulgent, and when he finally pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, his breathing just as uneven as yours. His fingers trace lazy patterns on your hip, his touch gentle in contrast to everything that just happened.

“You good?” he asks softly, his voice laced with something deeper—something tender.

You nod, still catching your breath, and he smiles before pressing another kiss to your lips, softer this time. “Good,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Instead of rushing right into it, Chris takes his time. His lips press gentle kisses along your collarbone, your shoulders, down your arms—anywhere he can reach. His hands follow the same path, fingertips tracing every inch of your skin, sending warmth through your entire body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe. His gaze sweeps over you, and there’s something almost reverent in the way he looks at you, as if he can’t quite believe this is real.

His hands find your waist, thumbs brushing over your skin, his touch so delicate yet so certain. “I still can’t believe I get to touch you like this,” he admits, his voice hushed, almost as if he’s speaking to himself. “That I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, to admire you like this.”

The possessiveness in his words makes your heart stutter, but it’s not suffocating—it’s something deeper, something real. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, before finally capturing your lips in a kiss that’s slow, unhurried, and filled with so much emotion that it makes your chest ache. “And I get to kiss you like this, as many times as I want.”

He shifts slightly, reaching between you both, and you hear the soft crinkle of the condom wrapper before he rolls it on. When he hovers over you again, his hands slide along your thighs, spreading them wider as he settles between them. But instead of rushing, he just looks at you, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours.

“I want you to remember this,” he whispers, his thumb brushing along your hip. “I want you to know how much I want you—how much I care about you.”

There’s nothing hurried about the way he touches you, nothing rushed in the way he moves. It’s a moment he’s savoring just as much as you are. And when he finally kisses you again, it’s deep and unspoken in its meaning, telling you everything he doesn’t need to say out loud.

Chris intertwines his fingers with yours as he aligns himself with you. His movements are filled with the same tenderness that lingers in his gaze. When he finally presses his cockto your entrance, he does so with utmost care, inching inside you with a patience that makes you hold your breath.

He pauses once he’s settled deep enough within you, not wanting to hurt you. He drops his head, his forehead pressing against yours as both of you take a moment to adjust—to the feeling, to the closeness, to everything unspoken between you. His thumb brushes soothing circles over the back of your hand, a silent reassurance as he waits for you.

When you finally whisper, "More," your voice is breathy, laced with need, he nods. With another slow, measured push, he eases himself deeper, filling you completely. A low groan escapes his lips, his grip on your hands tightening just slightly.

“God... you feel so good,” he murmurs, his voice husky with restraint. His praise sends warmth through you, making your body tense in the best way. He draws back just enough before sinking into you again, his movements fluid and controlled.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips as pleasure courses through you, and before you can stop yourself, your body clenches around him, the intensity overwhelming. Chris stills for a moment before chuckling softly, his breath warm against your cheek.

“Already?” he teases, his voice dripping with amusement. His thumb brushes over your cheek as he smiles down at you, his expression both affectionate and playful. “Guess you really are getting used to me.”

Even as heat floods your face, you can’t help but melt at the way he looks at you—like he’s reveling every second of this moment with you.

Chris stills for a moment, his forehead resting lightly against yours as he breathes you in. His voice is gentle when he asks, “Do you need a moment?”

You shake your head almost immediately, fingers tightening around his. “No,” you whisper, your breath warm against his lips. “Keep going.”

His lips curve into the softest smile before he obeys, rolling his hips with slow, deliberate movements, never breaking eye contact. There’s something about the way he looks at you—like you’re the only thing that matters in this moment, like he wants to memorize every breath, every sigh, every quiet gasp that escapes your lips.

Your hands remain intertwined, his grip firm yet reassuring, grounding you in the moment. Each measured thrust is unrushed, filled with something deeper than just desire. It’s as if he’s pouring every unspoken feeling into the way he moves, into the way he holds you, into the way he kisses your knuckles between each lingering gaze.

The world outside fades, leaving only the quiet creak of the mattress, the mingling of breaths, and the warmth of his body pressed against yours. You feel everything—his touch, his presence, the emotions lingering between you.

Chris leans in, his lips brushing against your cheek before trailing down to your jaw. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with something tender.

And as he continues, keeping that slow, steady rhythm, you realize that this—being here with him, feeling this close—feels like something you never expected but something you never want to end.

This overwhelming feeling is taking over you. Your fingers tighten around Chris’s as you let out a soft, desperate whine. “Chris… I-I’m close.”

He hastily kisses you, his breath warm, his voice nothing but a soothing murmur. “It’s okay, baby,” he reassures you, his movements steady and unhurried. “Just let go.”

His words wash over you like a gentle tide, grounding you as you feel yourself unravel beneath him. But just as you’re about to fall apart, his pace never faltering, his gaze shifts—turning impossibly tender, reverent even. He looks at you as if you’re something sacred, something he never wants to let go of. His fingers squeeze yours as his lips part, his voice barely above a whisper. “You were made just for me.”

The words settle deep inside you, hitting somewhere beyond the physical, beyond the moment. And as you break apart beneath him, as he holds you through it, you realize—you’ve never felt more cherished than you do in this very moment.

Chris keeps moving, his rhythm growing more erratic as he chases his own release. His breaths turn ragged, his grip on your intertwined hands tightening as he buries his face against your neck. The warmth of his body, the way he clings to you, makes everything feel even more intimate.

And then, with a deep, shuddering groan, he finally lets go. His body tenses for a moment before he sinks into you completely, his weight pressing you into the bed as he collapses on top of you.

You wrap your arms around him instinctively, your fingers running soothingly down his back as he relishes the aftershocks of his climax. His chest rises and falls against yours, his breath warm on your skin, and for a long moment, neither of you say anything. There’s no need to—because right now, in this quiet, tangled-up moment, everything is exactly as it should be.

The slivers of sunlight shine through the cracks between the curtains. You stir awake, warmth surrounding you, and it takes you a moment to register the steady rise and fall of Chris’s breathing behind you. His strong arm is wrapped around your waist, holding you close, his body pressed flush against yours.

A slow, lazy kiss lands on your shoulder, then another, trailing up to the curve of your neck. His lips are warm, lingering, as if he’s enjoying the feel of you. His hand moves too—palming your breast with a gentle squeeze, your nipple is caught between his fingers.

You shift slightly, turning your head toward him, but before you can even murmur a good morning, he captures your lips in a deep, unhurried kiss. It’s soft at first, teasing, but then he deepens it, his fingers tightening around you as he pulls you impossibly closer. There’s a tenderness to the way he kisses you, like he’s been waiting all night for this.

As Chris finally pulls away from the kiss, his lips hover over yours, reluctant to part completely. You smile softly, your voice still laced with sleep as you murmur, “Good morning.”

He grins, pressing another quick peck to your lips before whispering, “Morning.”

For a moment, the two of you simply lay there, tangled up in each other, until a thought crosses your mind. “Should we be working today?” you ask, half-expecting him to remind you of responsibilities.

But he shakes his head, his fingers absentmindedly drawing patterns on your bare skin. “Let’s take another day off,” he suggests, his tone light, as if it’s the easiest decision in the world.

You hum in agreement, feeling no urge to argue. Just as he leans in for another kiss, you stop him with a playful, “Breakfast?”

Chris sighs dramatically, his lips curling into a smirk. “We can order it later.”

Before you can protest, his hand slips under the duvet, sliding along your thigh before gently lifting it, just enough to allow him access. A quiet giggle escapes you as you feel his morning wood nestled between your legs, his growing arousal pressing against your core.

“How did that get there?” you tease, your voice laced with amusement.

Chris chuckles, his lips brushing over yours. “It's your fault that I can't get enough of you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with affection and something more.

He kisses you again, deep and unhurried, stealing your breath and any lingering thoughts of breakfast. When he breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, he grins and says, “Maybe we should take one week off instead of just one day.”

You laugh softly at his suggestion, shaking your head at his playful grin. “One week?” you echo, arching a brow.

Chris hums, nuzzling against your neck. “Mm-hmm. One whole week. Just you and me.” His voice is warm, coaxing, tempting you into believing that reality can wait just a little longer.

And maybe it can.

Because right now, wrapped up in Chris’s arms, feeling the gentle way he touches you, the lazy kisses he presses to your skin, the way his body molds so perfectly against yours—it’s a moment you don’t want to end. A feeling you don’t want to slip away.

So instead of responding, you just sigh and pull him closer, pressing your lips to his once more, hoping that if you hold on tight enough, you can make this moment last forever.

You're in the middle of typing your report when the sharp scent of nail polish fills the air. You glance to the side and see Jane casually lounging next to you, legs crossed, meticulously painting her nails a deep red.

“You know this isn’t your personal salon, right?” you say, arching a brow.

Jane smirks, blowing lightly on her freshly painted nails. “Please, I work hard. I deserve some self-care during office hours.”

Before you can argue, your phone buzzes. You pick it up, and a message from Chris flashes on the screen.

Come to my office.

You swallow, already feeling the anticipation stir in your stomach. “I have to go,” you say, standing up.

Jane doesn't even look up as she caps her nail polish bottle. “Oh, I know where you're going.” She gives you a sly smile. “And yes, please take as much time as you want.”

Heat creeps up your neck, but you don’t dignify her with a response. Instead, you roll your eyes and make your way to Chris’s office, trying not to let your mind wander about why exactly he wants to see you.

After knocking on his door, you let yourself into Chris’s office and close the door behind you. He’s at his desk, leaning back in his chair with one hand resting on the armrest, the other scrolling through something on his screen. At the sound of your footsteps, he looks up and gives you a small, knowing smile.

“Come in,” he says, motioning for you to step closer.

You do, stopping in front of his desk, hands clasped in front of you. “You called?”

Chris leans forward, elbows on the desk. “How’s the development going?”

It takes you a second to register that he’s actually asking about work. You clear your throat. “Good. We’re finalizing the flavored variants for the extra-large line.”

Chris hums, pushing back his chair and standing up. “Flavored, huh?” He takes slow steps toward the door, locking it with a quiet click before turning back to you. “Like what flavors?”

“Strawberry, vanilla, chocolate—”

Your words cut off when he suddenly closes the distance between you, his hands finding your waist, pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his body, the way his fingers press into your lower back, sends a shiver down your spine.

“You’ve been working hard,” Chris murmurs, his breath fanning over your lips. “Think you deserve a little break.”

Before you can say anything, he tilts his head down and presses his lips to yours, soft yet firm, coaxing, as if he’s been waiting all day to do this. The moment you melt into the kiss, he deepens it, one hand moving up to cup the back of your head and the other hand cupping your clothed ass cheek. The locked door, the office setting, the way he holds you like he can’t get enough—it all makes your head spin.

Chris doesn’t break the kiss as he lifts you effortlessly, placing you on the edge of his desk. His hands settle on your thighs, keeping you close as he kisses you again—slow and deep, like he has all the time in the world.

Against his lips, you murmur, “Chris… we’re in the middle of work.”

He pulls back just enough to smirk at you, his eyes dark with amusement. “You can continue. I’m listening.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but the way he looks at you—completely enamored—makes it impossible to push him away. So, despite everything, you attempt to continue.

“The flavored variants… we’re still testing… different formulas,” you say, your voice slightly uneven as Chris leans in, pressing soft kisses along your jaw.

“Mhm,” he hums as he trails down to your neck, his lips warm against your skin.

“We need to make sure… the taste is pleasant without affecting…” You gasp slightly when he finds a sensitive spot on your neck and nips at it. “…the integrity of the material.”

Chris chuckles, the sound low and teasing. “Sounds like important work.”

His lips find yours again, and this time, you don’t even attempt to finish your sentence. You sigh against him, tilting your head as he deepens the kiss, his fingers gripping your hips.

At this point, work is the last thing on your mind so you wrap your arms around Chris, pulling him closer as his lips move against yours, slow and unhurried. His hands explore your waist, your back, his fingers pressing into you like he never wants to let go.

But then, the sharp ring of his landline cuts through the moment. Chris groans in frustration, ignoring it in favor of deepening the kiss, but you pull back just enough to reach for the receiver, pressing it into his hand.

He glares at the phone like it personally offended him but sighs before answering. “Chris speaking.”

Even as he listens to the voice on the other end, his hands remain on you. One slides up your thigh, slipping beneath your skirt, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin. Your breath hitches when he teasingly brushes where you want him the most, his fingers graze the lacey fabric of your underwear and you grip his shoulders, trying to stay composed.

Chris smirks at your reaction but lets out another sigh before responding into the phone. “Yeah. I’ll be there in ten.”

With clear reluctance, he hangs up, his fingers still tracing circles on your thigh. “I guess work wins this round,” he mutters, his gaze flickering back to your lips.

You try to catch your breath, trying to ignore the way your body still aches for his touch. “You should go.”

Chris leans in one last time, stealing a lingering kiss before finally stepping back. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

And with the way he’s looking at you, you have no doubt that he will.

You smooth down your skirt, still trying to collect yourself as you slide off his desk. "And I should get back to work," you mumble, your voice not as steady as you'd like.

Chris watches you with an amused glint in his eyes, arms crossed over his chest like he’s enjoying the effect he has on you. As you turn toward the door, he calls out, “Oh, and by the way—”

You stop on your track and glance back at him.

His smirk deepens. “We’re testing the vanilla-flavored one tonight.”

Your breath catches, heat creeping up your neck at the implication. Chris simply grins, his gaze unwavering, and you quickly turn on your heel. As you walk out of his office, you swear you can still feel his smirk lingering in the air behind you.

The workday drags on longer than usual, but eventually, it’s time to leave. As you step into the elevator, exhausted yet content, the doors begin to close—until a hand slips between them at the last second.

Chris steps inside with his usual confidence, his presence filling the small space effortlessly. Dressed in his button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, he looks every bit the professional and the man who has spent countless nights unraveling you.

He glances at you, a smirk playing at his lips. “So,” he starts, leaning against the elevator wall, “are you ready to test the vanilla-flavored one tonight?”

He then eyes your bag and grins, his dimples sunken into his cheeks. “I know the condom is there. In your bag.”

Your body betrays you before you can even form a response—cheeks heating, heart skipping, breath catching. You hate how easily he can do this to you.

Chris tilts his head, clearly enjoying your reaction. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

You look away. “No.”

He chuckles. “Liar.”

Before you can defend yourself, he moves closer, his body inches from yours. His fingers brush against your wrist, then trail up your arm, setting every nerve alight. “You know,” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower, “I really like it when you get flustered.”

And then his lips are on yours—warm, slow, and deliberate. The kind of kiss that makes time irrelevant, that makes you forget you’re still in the office elevator. You sigh into it, your body melting against him as his hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer.

The soft ding of the elevator chime startles you both. The doors glide open, revealing the lobby, and Chris pulls back just enough to look at you. His hand finds yours, fingers threading together, and with a knowing smile, he simply says—

“Let’s go home.”

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osaemu · 1 year ago

Text

GETO SUGURU: ❛❛ SNOWFLAKES IN MY STOMACH WHEN WE KISSIN' ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ your boyfriend can't be home for christmas? fine then, you'll just spend it with his best friend! but be prepared, 'cause your boyfriend's gonna be mad when he gets home. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. modern!au. best friend!gojo. degradation, spanking, p –> v, you guys are loud and you get walked in on! gojo gets slutshamed.. a lot. and he's very annoying!! also there's lots of borderline crack in this fic, have fun with that! 3.6k words, not proofread.

author's note: it's been a hottt minute since i've written for geto and i lowk forgot how to write him.. anyways.

“what do you mean, you’re not coming home for christmas?” you huff, hopping on your bed and lying on your stomach.

the man on the other end of the phone sighs exasperatedly, and you can almost see suguru massage his temples when he replies, “i have work, baby. i’m sorry, but i really can’t miss this chance to—”

it’s the night before christmas eve, and you just learned that suguru won’t be home in time to spend christmas with you—obviously, you were upset, because you’d been looking forward to spending the holidays with him. but to your dismay, holiday season’s always the busiest time of the year for businessmen like suguru.

“fine,” you groan, rolling over onto your back and staring at the ceiling. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you do so, and you mutter something about life not being fair as suguru lists all the reasons he can’t be home by christmas morning.

“i have a big meeting with some potential investors tomorrow, and there’s no way i’ll be back by the morning after,” suguru explains tiredly. you can hear the sleepiness in his voice, but the selfish part of you wants to keep him on the phone longer—it’s only seven, and you could easily spend the next couple hours convincing him to come home sooner.

“but suguru—” you try, even though you know nothing’ll convince him at this point.

“i’m sorry, honey,” he interrupts. after a moment, suguru’s voice softens and he continues, “i just can’t make it home by christmas. we can spend the day after together, though—i think i’ll be free for the rest of the week.”

you roll off the bed, stuffing one hand in the pocket of your hoodie—suguru’s hoodie—as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a mug of hot chocolate. the other hand still holds your phone to your ear, and you swallow back the rest of the protests you have to suguru’s absence.

“anyways, i gotta go,” suguru murmurs, obviously suppressing a yawn. “love you, baby. n’ i��m sorry, but i really can’t do anything about it.”

he hangs up before you can reply.

almost instantly, you dial satoru’s number—he’s probably the only other person you and suguru both trust enough to confide in about your problems, and like always, satoru picks up right away.

“hey, satoru?”

“heyyy, i already heard about it from suguru,” satoru replies, and there’s some suspicious squelching sounds in the background. are those grunts, too?

“uh, what are you doing?” you ask tentatively, hopping on the counter and sitting with your back pressed against the wall. the oddly wet sounds continue for a couple more seconds, and then they stop. “satoru?”

“shit, sorry, i was in the middle of something,” he replies with a breathless laugh. “yeah, i’m done now. wanna see?” your phone lights up with an invitation to facetime, and you hit the ‘x’ immediately.

“no, i don’t want to see whatever the fuck you’re doing,” you grumble, ignoring his laughter. “you’re disgusting, i’ll call you ba—”

“no, i’m free, i’m free!” satoru interrupts, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice as he continues, “suguru won’t be back for christmas, right?”

you pause and sigh, closing your eyes for a second. “yeah, he won’t be.”

“and you want a way to get him to come back sooner, right?”

“yep. you have anything in mind?” you ask, half-hoping that satoru’ll be able to come up with some genius plan to get your boyfriend to fly back here to make it in time for christmas. but if you’re being honest, you know that there are very few things that could convince suguru to drop his supposedly important meeting and come straight home.

and somehow, satoru devises a plan that makes you certain he will.

————

the next morning, you receive a text from suguru asking you to facetime—under normal circumstances, you’d just ask him to call instead since you’re at a cafe, but not today. today, you want him to see you and your mischievous little plan, so you eagerly accept.

“hey, sweetheart,” suguru says the second the call connects. his dark hair is pulled back into its usual half-down half-up style, and he props up his phone on something to use his reflection to adjust his tie. “how are y— wait, is that satoru’s jacket?”

you smile innocently and turn the phone to show satoru, who’s sitting just across from you at the table by the window. after satoru’s taken his time to wave and blow a kiss to suguru (who rolls his eyes in response), you turn the phone back and say, “oh, i just got a little cold. it’s pretty chilly down here!”

suguru frowns, brown eyes narrowing at your cheeky expression. “very funny. why didn’t you just bring your own jacket? or one of mine?”

oh, this is the question you’ve been waiting for. you shrug off satoru’s rather comfortable jacket and show suguru the tight, long-sleeved shirt you’re wearing underneath it. the fabric hugs your skin in a way that shows off all your curves, and even better, it’s a light shade of blue that’s somewhere in between the color of satoru’s eyes and hair.

“i did! but then it just got so cold and satoru was nice enough to offer me his jacket,” you say nonchalantly, pretending not to notice the way suguru’s jaw tightens. you flutter your eyelashes innocently and smile at suguru, thoroughly enjoying the way his eyes focus on your outfit.

“you jealous?” satoru chimes in, snatching the phone out of your hand and posing in front of it, admiring himself in the camera.

“no,” suguru mutters, but it wouldn’t take a genius to tell that he’s just lying through his teeth. satoru grins in response, making a peace sign with his hand and winking.

“good, ‘cause i’m gonna be hangin’ out with her all day long!” satoru cooes, blowing suguru another kiss before you swipe your phone back out of his hand.

“is he joking?” suguru grumbles, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed. you shrug in response, not buying his cool and collected persona. you know suguru better than most, and the subtle way his shoulders tensed the second he saw you in satoru’s jacket gave it all away.

“nope,” you reply, soft lips tugging themselves into a little smile. “we might spend christmas together too, ‘cause you won’t be here. but i guess i don’t really mind anymore—satoru’s good company!”

satoru covers his mouth to hide his laughter at your comment, giving you a thumbs-up when suguru doesn’t reply. your boyfriend says something about already being late and having to go, and this time, you’re the one who hangs up.

“oh, we definitely got him,” you grin, smugly lifting your mug of hot cocoa and clinking it with satoru’s in a celebratory expression. satoru hums in agreement before he takes a sip of his cocoa, face growing pink at the sudden warmth.

“so, how long d’you think it’ll be until suguru texts you that he’s on his way?” satoru asks, leaning back in his chair and blowing on his cup to cool off the smoking-hot liquid.

“hopefully soon.”

“i’m betting on… three hours.”

three hours later, you don’t get a single text from suguru. four hours later, nothing. on the fifth hour, you finally receive a message from him, but it’s just a “how are you?”

“was that not enough?” you whine, half-looking at your phone as you walk through the mall with satoru. “how else can i convince sugu to come back by tomorrow?”

satoru shrugs, pulling the red lollipop he got from a toy shop’s cashier out of his mouth. “i mean, we tried jealousy, so how ‘bout we go the other route?”

you tilt your head curiously, waiting for satoru to elaborate.

“y’know, why don’t ya tempt him in… other ways?” satoru wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and your face grows warm despite the chilly air around you.

“satoru…” you pause, face unreadable as you stop walking and turn to him. satoru holds his breath in anticipation, waiting for your verdict.

“that’s a really good idea.”

————

and that’s how you ended up in a clothing store, sifting through hundreds of dresses in search of one that’d be alluring enough to draw suguru back home.

“what color does he like on you?” satoru asks, seemingly oblivious to the strange looks he’s receiving from the other people in the store as he examines handfuls of dresses with interest. “red? black? white?”

you shrug, running your fingers over a form-fitting dress the color of suguru’s eyes. “i dunno, do you think he’d like this?”

satoru turns, takes one look at the dress, and instantly grabs it. “c’mon, let’s get you into a dressing room.”

the second you and satoru get there, the dressing room attendant gives you both a weird look. her eyes settle on satoru, and she asks, “weren’t you just here a week ago with another girl?”

satoru’s face goes redder than you’ve ever seen it. “uh, yeah, i was. oh, this one’s my best friend’s girlfriend, not mine—”

you shove him aside and hand the dress to the attendant, smiling bashfully. “just trying on this one, thanks.”

the attendant eyes satoru suspiciously and then nods. “okay, but he doesn’t get to go inside. last time, we got a noise complaint from the other customers.”

if you thought satoru’s face was red before, now it’s a shade redder than you knew was possible. in fact, you’re almost considering sending him to the hospital to get checked on as you close the dressing room door behind you and try the dress on.

it’s a little tight, but that’s expected given the skin-hugging fabric. after a couple minutes, you turn and admire yourself in the mirror—the dress, thankfully, fits perfectly. the fabric accentuates your features in the best way possible, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from staring in the mirror any longer.

“how do i look?” you ask, stepping out of the dressing room and doing a twirl for satoru. his jaw drops, and he nods instantly.

“yeah, this is the one,” satoru affirms, taking out his phone. “want me to be the one to send the pics to suguru? that way we can still make him jealous!”

you give him a thumbs-up and blow a kiss at the camera, trusting satoru to take a flattering picture before you head back into the room to change out. on your way out of the store, you buy the dress at the counter—knowing suguru, he wouldn’t reply to satoru’s text, but you just knew he was dying to see you in that in person.

————

later that night, well after satoru’s gone back to his house and you’re relaxing in your own, suguru texts you again.

sugu: can we call?

you grin and roll over onto your back, nestling yourself deeper into your pillows before you dial his number. it only rings once before he picks up, and he instantly asks if satoru’s still with you.

“nah, he went home,” you say offhandedly, toying with the corner of your sheets. “did you like my dress?” you ask coyly, enjoying the way suguru pauses for a long second before replying.

“yeah, it looked good on you.”

“that’s it?”

“it really brought out your eyes.”

you bite your tongue to suppress a groan, instead opting to bury your face in a pillow instead. you had just spent the past twenty-four hours running around in circles, doing everything possible to get suguru to come back, and that’s all you get? really?

“anyways,” suguru continues, and you hear a soft rustling sound in the background—if you had to guess, he’s probably in bed right now. “how was your day, baby?”

“good,” you respond briskly, a soft scowl appearing on your face. suguru, being as observant as he is, picks up on the subtle change in your tone, but he doesn’t say anything. “satoru and i had a really good day. how was yours?”

suguru pauses before answering. “i missed you.”

“then come home, sugu,” you plead, even though you know that there’s no way he’ll be back in time. but it’s worth a try, right?

“you know i can’t,” suguru murmurs, exhaling softly. “no way can i get a flight back this late and make it back by tomorrow morning. i—”

“then get a sleigh!” you huff indignantly, unable to resist smiling when you hear suguru laugh. “please, sugu? christmas won’t be christmas without you.”

“just spend it with satoru,” suguru mutters under his breath, and that’s when you realize that your efforts haven’t entirely been in vain. he’s obviously sour that you spent the whole day with his best friend instead of him, and a small spark of hope starts to fester in your heart.

“maybe i will,” you reply coyly, and you can hear your own smile in your voice—and you’re sure that suguru can hear it too. “anyways, i’m a little tired. good night, baby.”

“night.”

————

the next day, you host a party in your otherwise empty house—after all, it’s christmas, and it’d be rather depressing for you to spend it alone. so you invite satoru, satoru’s friends, and their friends, and so on. word gets around fast, and people show up in droves.

which is why you don’t notice when suguru himself slips in through the back door.

you’re giggling with satoru and his stoic friend kento when they both stop laughing, and you look up at them, confused. “what is it?” you ask, sipping the sweet liquid in your glass with a smile.

“suguru?” satoru asks, lips tugging themselves into a wide smile. “guess you didn’t wanna spend christmas alone, yeah?”

you turn around, half-expecting satoru to be joking. but to your surprise, your dark-haired boyfriend stands in front of you, smiling dryly. you stare at him for a solid two seconds, certain that you’re hallucinating. “sugu? but i thought—”

“thought you could mess around with my best friend?” suguru muses, arching one of his eyebrows. his suit’s a little wrinkled, and his hair’s more disheveled than normal, but somehow, he seems more alert than ever. suguru’s amber eyes go from yours to satoru’s wide blue ones, and satoru shrinks away from him with a nervous smile.

“i’m gonna go,” kento says offhandedly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. he turns and disappears into the crowd, leaving you, satoru, and suguru alone in the living room.

“hey, bro, it was her idea!” satoru says instantly, raising his hands as if he’s a burglar in front of the police. you turn to him in disbelief, scoffing indignantly at his pitiful attempt to get out of trouble.

“no, it was your idea!” you insist, jabbing your finger at satoru. he gasps dramatically and pretends to faint, to which you roll your eyes good-naturedly. you turn back to suguru, rounding your eyes in an attempt to gain his favor. “i swear, sugu, this was all satoru’s idea!”

“you liar,” satoru grumbles, crossing his arms and huffing childishly. you turn and glare at him, and coupled with suguru’s unimpressed look, it’s enough to scare satoru off.

and now it’s just you and suguru, alone in your mint-scented living room. christmas pop plays in the background from another room, and maybe it’s just the dim lighting but you swear you can see suguru’s face go a shade redder than before.

“hey,” you mumble, averting your eyes.

“hey,” suguru replies. he smiles, and just like that, all his features soften. “don’t you want to know how i got here so fast?” he drawls, reaching out and brushing something off your shoulder. his fingers trail down from your shoulder to your collarbone, which is all the more prominent thanks to the dress you’re wearing. incidentally, it’s the same dress you had sent suguru a picture of yesterday—maybe that’s why he can’t take his eyes off you.

“yeah, how did you get here so fast?” you ask curiously, suppressing a shiver as his fingers trace your figure down to your waist. suguru’s eyes go from your dress to your face, and he grins.

“well, i had to leave right before my meeting started and bribe some passengers with a shit-ton of money for their seats,” suguru starts, taking you by the hand and leading you to your shared room. “and believe me, it was a lot of money. and most people still said no, ‘cause they want to be with their families for the holidays.”

he makes a face as he pushes open the door, and stops in his tracks. your face grows warm as you realize that you had set up your room for him too—it’s illuminated with soft candlelight, the linen sheets are changed, and you—oh, you look perfect in suguru’s eyes. it takes a great deal of his willpower to stop himself from fucking you right there and then.

“oh, yeah, it was a lot of money,” suguru continues, smiling down at you coyly. “between the deal i just fucked up and the ridiculous amount of bribes i had to make, i think you owe me.”

suguru makes his way over to your bed and sits, spreading his legs and showing off his growing erection. you grin, following him and sitting in his lap. “did you miss me, sugu?”

“damn right i did.”

and barely a minute or two later, he’s got you face-down ass-up in the sheets, a calloused hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your increasing moans. “shh, wouldn’t want our guests to hear ya,” suguru whispers, breath hot against the side of your face.

you squirm underneath him, mind hazy from the feeling of his dick buried in you for the first time in.. how long? does it matter? “s-sugu, please fuck me,” you mumble, pretending not to notice the way he hasn’t bothered doing anything to you besides use you as his personal cockwarmer.

in the short time he’s been inside you, suguru’s barely moved—and fuck, he enjoys watching you squirm around and beg him to do more than just.. nothing.

“sugu, plea—”

he cuts you off with a slap to your ass, relishing the lewd whine that slips out of your lips in reply. “fuck, you thought y’could get me back here by fuckin’ with my best friend?” suguru cooes, shifting his hips.

“we didn’t—”

“yeah, no shit, baby,” suguru interrupts dryly. “otherwise this’d be a lot worse for you—and for him.”

suguru’s dark eyes flit over to where the dress you bought lies, discarded somewhere in the corner of your room. he grins and uses his hand to turn your head, gesturing at the fabric. “and i bet he was the one who gave you the idea to do whatever the fuck that was,” suguru drawls, clicking his tongue. “tell me, whose idea was it to have him send me that pic? yours, or his?”

when you don’t reply, suguru sighs dramatically and grabs your hair, pulling your head up enough for him to lean down and whisper in your ear, “this’ll be a lot easier for you if you just answer—the—question,” suguru breathes, punctuating each word with another slap to your ass.

“it wasn’t m-mine!” you cry, looking up at suguru with shiny, rounded doe eyes. “i just wanted to—”

suguru cuts you off by pulling out of your drenched cunt just enough to allow him enough space to go back in, and his thrust is harsh and hits all the right places inside of you. your walls clench around him, and shit, suguru realizes that he missed fucking you like this more than anything else in the world.

“fuck, you’re so damn tight,” he hisses, shifting his hips again to allow himself more space to move. “did ya not touch yourself at all while i was gone?”

“n-no,” you stutter, swallowing another pornographic sound from escaping your lips. “i waited for you, sugu,” you gasp, feeling him hit spots you haven’t felt throb in a painfully long time. and fuck, you’re so out of practice that affer just a few thrusts, you’re mewling all over his cock and whining about how you’re close to cumming.

your vision gets speckled with spots of white as thoughts of suguru take up every corner of your mind, even as he teases you for getting so close so fast. but it’s not your fault you’re about to cum faster than you’ve ever done—you’ve tried fucking yourself with your fingers on times when suguru was out for work, but he’s spoiled you with his dick more than you can imagine.

and that’s why you cum all over his cock in what has to be a record-breaking time, tongue lolling out of your mouth as you mumble indecipherable words.

“aw, look at you,” suguru murmurs, stroking your hair as you tremble underneath him. even though it’s unbearably cold outside, it feels scorching hot in here—but maybe that’s because of both of your heaving chests in the aftermath of your orgasm.

“‘m sorry, sugu,” you mumble hazily, and suguru chuckles in response.

“it’s alright, baby,” he responds lightly. “y’know i like fucking your bratty cunt dumb every once in a while, heh.”

you two lie there, basking in each other’s presence for a little while longer before the bedroom door creaks open. and to your horror, satoru stands there, seemingly bored by the whole scene.

“can you two keep it down?” satoru groans, dragging a hand down his face. “we’re trying to have a karaoke competition, but you guys keep going agh—”

suguru hurls a pillow at satoru, cutting off his mocking moan. “you’re next, asshole,” suguru grumbles, getting off of you and covering you with the sheets.

“you’re gonna fuck me next? wow, what happened to hi, hel— oww, okay, i’m going, i’m going!”

#osaemu #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #suguru geto smut #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n

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mostlysignssomeportents · 30 days ago

Text

Mark Zuckerberg announces mind-control ray (again)

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in PITTSBURGH on May 15 at WHITE WHALE BOOKS, and in PDX on Jun 20 at BARNES AND NOBLE with BUNNIE HUANG. More tour dates (London, Manchester) here.

Mark Zuckerberg has told investors how he plans to make back the tens of billions he's spending on AI: he's going to use it to make advertisements that can bypass our critical faculties and convince anyone to buy anything. In other words, Meta will make an AI mind-control ray and rent it out to grateful advertisers.

Here, Zuck is fulfilling the fundamental duty of every CEO of every high-growth tech company: explaining how his company will continue to grow. These growth stories are key, because growth stocks trade at a huge premium relative to the stocks of "mature" companies. Every dollar Meta brings in boosts their share price to a much greater degree than the dollars earned by companies with similar rates of profit, but slower rates of growth. This premium represents a bet by investors that Meta will continue to grow, which means that the instant Meta stops growing, the value of its shares will plummet, to reflect the fact that it is a "mature" company, not a "growth" company.

So Zuck needs to do everything he can to keep investors believing that Meta will continue to grow. After all, Zuck's key employees and top managers all take much (or even most!) of their compensation in Meta stock, which means that the instant the company stops growing, those workers' pay will plummet and they will seek employment elsewhere, depriving Meta of the workers it needs to successfully create or conquer a new market and once again become a growth stock.

This is why Zuck keeps telling stories. The most important story Zuck tells is about himself, the boy genius who converted a tool for nonconsensually rating the fuckability of Harvard undergrads into a social media monopoly with four billion users. Zuck's cult of personality isn't the product of mere narcissism – it's a tool for creating the material conditions for ongoing investor confidence:

https://www.businessinsider.com/mark-zuckerberg-shirt-latin-what-does-it-say-explained-words-2024-9

If Zuck is a boy genius, then Zuck's pronouncements take on the character of prophesy. When Zuck announced the "pivot to video," investors poured tens of billions into Facebook stock and into video-first online news production, despite the fact that Zuck was obviously lying:

https://slate.com/technology/2018/10/facebook-online-video-pivot-metrics-false.html

The "boy genius" story is an example of Silicon Valley's storied "reality distortion field," pioneered by Steve Jobs. Like Jobs, Zuck is a Texas marksman, who fires a shotgun into the side of a barn and then draws a target around the holes. Jobs is remembered for his successes, and forgiven his (many, many) flops, and so is Zuck. The fact that pivot to video was well understood to have been a catastrophic scam didn't stop people from believing Zuck when he announced "metaverse."

Zuck lost more than $70b on metaverse, but, being a boy genius Texas marksman, he is still able to inspire confidence from credulous investors. Zuck's AI initiatives generated huge interest in Meta's stock, with investors betting that Zuck would find ways to keep Meta's growth going, despite the fact that AI has the worst unit economics of any tech venture in living memory. AI is a business that gets more expensive as time goes on, and where the market's willingness to pay goes down over time. This makes the old dotcom economics of "losing money on every sale, but making it up in volume" look positively rosy:

https://www.wheresyoured.at/reality-check/

Now, Zuck has finally described how he's going to turn AI's terrible economics around: he's going to ask AI to design his advertisers' campaigns, and these will be so devastatingly effective that advertisers will pay a huge premium to advertise on Meta:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/the-ai-revolution-is-an-advertising-revolution-morning-brief-100001467.html

This narrative is especially galling because it's literally the same story Zuck has been telling for decades: "Facebook has built a mind-control out of Big Data, and we can sell anything to anyone":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/30/dont-believe-the-criti-hype/#ordinary-mediocrities

This is a facially absurd proposition. After all, everyone who's ever claimed to have perfected mind-control – Rasputin, Mesmer, MK-ULTRA, neurolinguistic programming grifters and pathetic "pick up artists" – was a liar. Either they were lying to themselves, or to everyone else. Or both.

But many of tech's critics helped sell this narrative (and thus helped Meta sell ads). Many critics have fallen prey to the sin of "criti-hype," Lee Vinsel's term for critiquing the claims of your adversary without bothering to ask whether they are true:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/02/euthanize-rentiers/#dont-believe-the-hype

The project of convincing investors that tech's "dopamine hackers" had perfected mind-control with warmed over, non-replicable Skinnerian behavior-mod techniques and mass surveillance sold a hell of a lot of ads. After all, if there's one kind of person the advertising sector has always been able to sell to, it's advertising executives, who are the easiest of marks for a story about how easy it is to trick the public into buying whatever you're selling:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/05/florida-man/#wannamakers-ghost

Every ad-tech sales-bro who takes a meeting with an advertising executive finds himself pushing on an open door. Advertisers desperately wants to believe in mind-control rays. Think of the department store magnate John Wannamaker, who said, "half my advertising spending is wasted – I just don't know which half." Imagine: some advertising exec convinced John Wannamaker that he was only wasting half of his advertising spending!

I've long maintained that the threat from AI to workers isn't that AI can do your job – it's that an AI salesman can convince your boss to fire you and replace you with an AI that can't do your job:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/18/asbestos-in-the-walls/#government-by-spicy-autocomplete

The corollary here is that it doesn't matter if AI can design ads that work, not so long as an AI ad salesman can sell this proposition to an advertisers, and not so long as a tech CEO can sell it to investors.

AI keeps passing the worst kinds of Turing tests – for example, it's great at helping people who are prone to life-destroying hallucinations that they are talking to God:

https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-features/ai-spiritual-delusions-destroying-human-relationships-1235330175/

Zuck kept up his growth story with this mind control narrative for more than a decade, got caught committing a string of spectacular frauds, and then lured investors back into his stock offerings by telling the same story. This isn't just an indictment of Zuck, it's a stinging rebuke to the whole idea that markets are a kind of infallible computer for assessing and operationalizing information. The market's "thought process" demonstrably lacks the object permanence that most babies acquire by the time they are a year old. You can tell when your child has acquired object permanence by the fact that they cease to enjoy "peek-a-boo" (object permanence means they understand where you have gone when your face is hidden).

In claiming that AI will give him an infinite growth mind-control ray, Mark Zuckerberg is challenging the market to a game of peek-a-boo – and he's winning.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/07/rah-rah-rasputin/#credulous-dolts

Image:

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #ai #criti-hype #facebook #critihype #mark zuckerberg #zuckerberg #zuck #ads #ad-tech #surveillance capitalism #careless people #dopamine hacking

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sushiwriterhere · 14 days ago

Text

when samira mohan is thirty six weeks pregnant, she decides she’s over it. first, robby has taken the hovering, very needlessly mind you, up to an eleven, which she didn’t think was possible. jack cried foul any time she tried to blame him for the way robby asked her at least twice an hour if she needed to sit down, or was constantly handing her snacks and water.

(collins, for her part, seemed gently exasperated but also very fond of his behavior. she chided him quietly when he was stressing samira out a little too much. robby had been particularly neurotic when she was pregnant, flitting around anxiously until dana threatened to tell gloria robby wanted to present to investors unless he left her alone. he still acted like a little hummingbird following her around all the time, but at least the frenetic energy of it subsided.)

second, jack’s son switched from shoving his toes into her bladder to shoving his heels into samira’s lung cavity in the last two weeks, and so no, she doesn’t constantly need to go to the bathroom anymore, but she can’t exactly breathe fully whenever he decides to really go to town on her.

she thinks jack might blow a gasket when she tells him she feels short of breath the first time. she’s got her feet in his lap (swollen, and his massages are very nice after a long day, thank you) and he goes very, very, still and his blinking seems manual.

‘like, how short of breath, samira?’

(she’s mostly just wanting to bitch because at least it’s better than feeling like she has a uti.)

‘it’s not a big deal,’ she’s waving her hands around and trying to talk him down, ‘your son just insists on kicking me right in the lungs semi regularly.’

‘my son.’ his expression is deadpan but his eyes are no less freak-out mode. his thumbs also stopped their very wonderful pressure on the arches of her feet.

‘yes, your son.’ then, a bit petulantly, she kicks her feet in his lap, ‘why’d you stop.’

but she’s being pulled into his lap as he reaches over to the go-bag he has stashed to the right of the couch in lieu of an answer. he ignores her protests and makes her take deep breaths while he listens with the stethoscope. she tries not to be too grumpy about the fact that her complaining has interrupted the massage.

in the end it’s fine of course and samira only huffs and puffs a little when he makes her wear the pulse ox monitor but she draws the line at going in to the pitt to make sure nothing’s wrong.

(‘jack, robby already treats me like i’m about three seconds from breaking into a million pieces, im not going in.’)

third (and this one might actually put jack into an early grave), she apparently read one too many articles about how sex is good for pelvic floor relaxation and inducing labor and subliminally influenced herself, because she is so horny all the time.

jack, for his part, loves his wife very much. and it’s not that he ever really needed sex to survive, and he definitely would never ask samira for something she didn’t want to do, but he’s starting to feel a bit like prey being hunted in his own home with the way she’s pouncing on him.

(oh fuck it, who is he lying to, the first time samira had all but tackled him when he’d come home, he’d dropped to his knees and come untouched while eating her out, entirely clothed with her pressed up against their laundry room door.)

once, he’d gotten her off three times between his thigh, hands, and mouth, and she still wanted more. she sends him selfies at work, ranging from fully clothed (in his old army shirts and sweatpants she bemoans fitting into), to completely naked. she once sent him a voice note of her getting herself off twenty minutes before shift change and he’d almost asked for a police escort so he could get home faster.

he did an obscene amount of research to understand the tech behind saving voice notes and who else could access them before he very promptly saved that shit in their text chain. he also made her finish three more times that night before she fell asleep in the tub and he had to deal with waking up a very pregnant woman who was finally comfortable for thirty seconds.

(and not that he would ever voice this, ever, because samira is her own person and just because she is pregnant with his child doesn’t change any part of that. and jack likes to think of himself as a feminist through and through. but. something deep and primal has settled in his chest ever since she started showing—his wife, his samira, carrying his son.

it’s not like he could ever resist her before, but now? when she smiles at him, glowing, happy, and cheeks just slightly rounder, he can’t say no to a single thing she asks for. and it certainly doesn’t help that her libido has reached insatiable, to put it mildly. he considers calling out of work regularly so he can stay home and fuck her.)

his beautiful, intelligent, funny, (etc.) wife also refuses to slow down. she hates the way robby hovers (jack didn’t even have to threaten or cajole robby into keeping an eye on her, robby had basically offered and said, ‘man now you know how i felt with heather. she wanted to stab me sometimes, sure, but at least i knew she was okay.’). she lifts heavy things (people), still goes on runs with him (just a bit slower but jack likes being alive so he has ignored this), she stands on her feet after working twelve hour shifts (‘jack even if i wanna throw up after every bite you still have to eat.’).

(he’d burn the world down if anything happened to a single hair on her head. he throws up almost immediately into the nearest biohazard trash can when the emts roll in a heavily pregnant woman from a drunk-driver mva, blood smeared across her face. he regains his composure for as long as it takes to assess, to press his fingers to her abdomen and feel kicking. she’s sent up to obstetrics and jack spends twenty minutes dry heaving in the men’s bathroom picturing samira on that gurney. the last time he’d felt so off kilter his first wife had just died.

it’s right before the day shift is set to start rolling in and he doesn’t even need to ask if he can leave immediately because robby bursts through the ambulance bay doors thirty minutes before he usually shows up. he reassures jack he’ll update him when he knows anything but he needs to ‘go home, abbot.’)

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makeitmingi · 5 months ago

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When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 10]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.3K

Chapter warning(s): Mentions of the boys' one night stands outside of the house, Mingi is flirty

Usually, Hongjoong would have been cooped up in his office the entire morning. The others were used to seeing him skip breakfast. So it was weird when they saw him sitting in the second floor lounge, going over papers.

"What's wrong with your office?" Seonghwa asked. Even he was curious as to why the captain was out here.

"There's nothing wrong with my office. I'm just sitting out here for a change of environment." Hongjoong wasn't the best at lying, especially to his best friend.

"Whatever you say..." Seonghwa wasn't convinced but he was hungry and wanted breakfast.

"Can you ask them to send me another coffee when you're down there?" Hongjoong asked. Seonghwa nodded and headed downstairs.

"Morning, hyung." Those that were having their breakfast in the dining room greeted the oldest.

"Morning. Send Hongjoong another coffee. Second floor lounge." He acknowledged the others then gave Hongjoong's order to the maid. She bowed and ran to the kitchen to make Hongjoong's coffee.

"How was Mingi's race last night? I didn't hear anything from him." Seonghwa asked Yunho. Yunho merely shrugged.

"I have no idea, I haven't heard from him either. But considering how he isn't in his room, I'm guessing he stayed out the whole night, probably to celebrate a win. You know those girls like to glue themselves to him." Yunho chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. Seonghwa hummed and ate his breakfast.

"Mr Park, the physician is here. Shall I let him in?" The butler came in, informing Seonghwa with a bow.

"Yes, wake San and let him know then bring to doctor to his room directly." Seonghwa replied. The butler nodded and bowed before leaving the dining room.

"Was it that bad?" Jongho asked.

"The opponent last night clocked him bad. We just want to make sure there's nothing internal that's too serious." Yeosang informed.

"I've got to go, got a meeting with my contractor for the new casino. Have a nice day everyone." Wooyoung jumped up, grabbing his suit jacket off the chair and running out of the room.

"Wooyoung hyung's been so busy with the casino nearing completion." Jongho noted.

"From what I saw last time, it's coming together nicely though. San's still going through the investors that you put together for him. Everyone seems to want a stake, the two did a good job in securing the lot since it's in prime real estate." Seonghwa said.

"That's a good breakfast. Now it's time to go to work." Yunho stretched and stood up to take his leave.

"There's a car coming in. Open the gates." They all heard Hongjoong come down the stairs, announcing to the mansion staff. Turning their heads, they saw the captain jog past.

"What visitor does hyung have?" Yeosang asked. Seonghwa shrugged but did look at the door way curiously.

"(y/n)! You're here." Hongjoong greeted you at the door.

"Hongjoong, good morning." You bowed. Honestly, you were still trying to keep your shock and awe to a minimum upon seeing this place, it was huge.

"Your drive way is very long. Luckily I took a cab or else I would have had to walk." You chuckled.

"Ah, sorry about that. I should have told you. But anyway, I would have gone to pick you or send a car over." Hongjoong said.

"I'm just kidding. It's no worries at all." You removed your shoes. Hongjoong walked before you, leading you further into the house. The maids and butlers that crossed your paths bowed to you and Hongjoong. It was awkward for you so you just bowed back, compared to Hongjoong who just continued ahead.

"(y/n) sshi, you're our new gardener?" Yunho's eyebrows raised in surprise as he greeted you, as if this was the first time he knew that you were going to be the gardener.

"Temporarily. I overheard Hongjoong needing one so I offered my help." You explained.

"Ah, I see. I guess it's good to know our garden is in the safe hands of an expert." Yunho complimented.

"I'm not an expert but thank you for thinking so highly of me." You smiled kindly. Hongjoong cast a slightly suspicious look at you then at Yunho, then back to you.

"So, the garden is this way." Hongjoong intercepted. You hummed and followed him out the glass doors to the back garden.

"Wow... It looks even better in person." You gasped.

"All the work of the landscaper when we got here and all the other gardeners that have worked here. I'll be honest, none of us here are really good with plants. It's just nice to look at so we decided to keep it and maintain it." Hongjoong rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ah, I see. I'll take note of that." You chuckled.

"Also, if you need anything, any extra tools or equipment, go ahead and get them. We'll reimburse you, you shouldn't pay out of your own pocket." Hongjoong smiled a little.

"Thank you. I'll just survey the garden now." You bowed your head awkwardly and stepped up.

"Isn't that..." Jongho tilted his head.

"Mhmm." Yunho nodded as they all gathered there, keeping their distance but still observing you and Hongjoong in the back garden. Seonghwa remained indifferent.

"You did this... Didn't you?" Seonghwa looked up at the tallest. Yunho merely shrugged in response but his smile was enough of a reply.

"Is it okay for her to be here?" Yeosang asked. No one replied to that, Seonghwa was too busy analysing.

When you looked up from where you were observing the plants, you looked behind Hongjoong to see his 4 friends or brothers standing there, staring at the two of you. Suddenly, you became so self aware and self conscious. Hongjoong followed your line of sight and turned around to see the 4 there.

"I'm good on my own, Hongjoong. If you're needed somewhere else..." You cleared your throat. Hongjoong nodded stiffly, realising he was just standing there with nothing much to add anyway.

"If you need anything, just let me know. Or let any of the staff know." He said. You hummed and watched as he headed back in.

"What are you guys doing?" Hongjoong asked.

"I should be asking you that. Since when were you close enough to her to ask her to be our gardener?" Seonghwa raised a questioning eyebrow. Hongjoong shrugged.

"We're not close. She overheard that we needed a new gardener and volunteered to help temporarily." Hongjoong explained.

"Oh, she overheard coincidentally?" Seonghwa shot Yunho a look, who looked away innocently.

"What?" Hongjoong blinked in confusion.

"Nothing. Just... be smart about this. Inform the others about her being here. I don't want to imagine what will happen to her if she sees us drag a corpse out there or something." Seonghwa said. Everyone nodded and Seonghwa went up to his office.

"Is this why you were working outside today, hyung? Waiting for her arrival?" Jongho nudged the captain. Hongjoong shot Jongho a dirty look and pushed his arm away.

"Of course not. I just needed more breathing space. My office was getting too stuffy." Hongjoong said.

"Sure..."

"Don't you all have work to do?" Hongjoong barked.

"Alright, alright. Geez, hyung. No need to shout." Yunho winced and covered his ears. They didn't realise that you were looking at them the entire time.

"They're an odd bunch." You noted to yourself as you inspected the plants in the plots.

"So are you going to be working outside the whole day, hyung?" Yeosang asked. Hongjoong glared at them and they all scurried away.

"Listen, if she needs anything, get it for her. Drinks, snacks, whatever, you understand?" Hongjoong turned to the butler. The butler nodded and bowed respectfully as Hongjoong went back upstairs. He gathered the files and papers that he had left in the lounge and returned back to his office.

With his coffee in his hand, he pulled back the curtains behind his chair, letting in all the light from the big window. And Hongjoong's eyes immediately found you.

"She's something else." He says to himself as he sees you used your fingers to dig through the soil.

All the other girls he has come across never liked getting their hands dirty but you so enthusiastically touched the dirt with bare hands.

"These two should not be planted next to each other." You noted, looking at the herb garden that was there. You assumed that it was for those that cooked on the estate.

"No wonder you're dying." You pouted a little, talking to the plant as you touched the wilting leaf.

"Miss, please help yourself to some refreshments and snacks. If you need anything else, please do not hesitate to let us know." A butler came out with a tray of items and a small, foldable table tucked under his arm.

"Thank you! Let me help you." You rushed over to help him unfold the lawn table he had with him. He seemed surprised that you had dropped what you were doing and came over to help him.

"Oh, miss. Don't worry, I can handle it." He bowed repeatedly but you took the tray from him politely.

"It's okay." You giggled and put the tray down on the table.

"Thank you so much, miss." He bowed deeply and poured the drink from the job into the glass for you. You smiled and received the glass, taking a sip.

"Ah, wait. There is something. Do you know if anyone uses the herb garden out here?" You asked him before he left.

"I'm not sure. Let me check with the kitchen." He said and went back into the house.

"So there is a kitchen crew here." You mumbled to yourself. You sipped the cold, fruit tea that was prepared. It was very delicious and refreshing while standing out in the sun.

"Miss, I have asked and the chef said that he used to take from the herb garden but lately, the herbs have not been in very good condition and they are not as fragrant as before so he has not been havesting." The butler came out, informing you. You nodded with a hum and thanked him.

"Looks like we have to repot and add some new plants while I try to revive these other ones." You said to yourself, making a mental note.

"So, how bad is it?" A voice came behind you. You straightened up and turned around to see one of men there. You didn't recognise him or knew his name.

"Hello. Nice to meet you. It's not that bad, just need to move the plants around." You bowed respectfully.

"That's good to hear. My name is Seonghwa. (y/n), right?" He tilted his head.

"Yes. Nice to meet you, Seonghwa sshi." You awkwardly bowed again. He exuded so much confidence and power, plus he was so elegantly beautiful, you couldn't take your eyes off him.

"Thank you for helping us. Hongjoong said you volunteered to be our gardener." Seonghwa said.

"Oh, no need to thank. Any chance to work with plants in such a big garden." You shook your head. Maybe you didn't know him but there was an intimidating aura around him. Seonghwa was purposely trying to psych you out.

Just in case you had any ulterior motive in being here and getting close to Hongjoong. He didn't know that Hongjoong was the one constantly seeking you out.

"Do you need anything so far?" Seonghwa asked.

"Not at the moment. I didn't bring my tools with me but I will the next time. Hopefully to revive the herb garden." You said.

"What is Hwa doing?" Hongjoong's eyes widened when he turned to the window and saw Seonghwa standing there, talking to you. You were shifting on your feet, looking a little frightened.

"What's a pretty girl doing out here?" A deep voice appeared. Mingi stood there, a smirk on his face.

"No, Mingi ah. No." Seonghwa shook his head. Mingi obviously didn't recognise you from Hongjoong's mother's funeral.

"Selfish." Mingi scoffed but obeyed and headed into the house. Seonghwa sighed and shook his head. Having seen Mingi come, Hongjoong had raced down. Mingi was one of the ones that liked to get flirty with girls. For some reason, he didn't like the idea of Mingi trying to flirt with you.

"Was that Mingi?" Hongjoong lied and acted nonchalant, trying to hide the fact that he was panting from how fast he ran down the stairs. You blinked in confusion at his behaviour.

"Yes, why? He just got home." Seonghwa raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I... Uh, needed to ask him something... So, (y/n), how's the garden?" Hongjoong changed the subject.

"It's alright. My plan is to revive the herb garden and some stuff need to be moved around, they shouldn't be grown together. And some of them are planted in the wrong soil." You explained.

"I guess the gardener before you wasn't as good as we thought." Hongjoong joked.

"They're common mistakes, I guess." You chuckled.

"Didn't you have to find Mingi?" Seonghwa cleared his throat as he reminded Hongjoong. Hongjoong nodded stiffly, giving Seonghwa a suspicious glance.

"See you later, (y/n)." Hongjoong said. You waved as he went back into the house. Seonghwa didn't stay too long too since you just went back to what you were doing. Honestly, it was awkward to have any conversation with him so you focussed on the plants.

"Mingi ah. You don't recognise her?" Hongjoong asked. Mingi shook his head, a look of confusion on his face.

"She's the girl that was at my mother's funeral... The one that knew her..." Hongjoong reminded.

"Oh! Oh... I didn't recognise her. I've only seen her like once, hyung. I barely remember all the girls that hang with us." Mingi shrugged. Hongjoong facepalmed.

"Whatever but no flirting, okay? She's here to be our temporary gardener, that's all." Hongjoong lectured.

"Yeah, yeah, captain. I get it, she's off limits." Mingi waved him off.

"I was going to tell everyone about her being here and working in the house tonight but I guess I should tell everyone now." Hongjoong sighed and took his phone out to send a text to the group.

"And Mingi, no weapons, no blood, nothing of that sort on the days she's here." Hongjoong said.

"Yes, captain." Mingi saluted and went to the kitchen to find some food since he was a little hungover from partying all night.

"The doctor's done with San." Seonghwa came and informed Hongjoong. The captain nodded and headed upstairs with his second in command to check on their brother. Seonghwa knocked on San's door lightly before the two of them entered. San was against the headboard, with an annoyed look on his face.

"Oh, hyungs. It's the two of you. I thought it was that annoying doctor again." San rolled his eyes, reading documents on his iPad. Seonghwa shook his head.

"He was just telling you to get bed rest, San ah. Yeosang said you went down bad last night." Seonghwa said.

"I'm fine. It's just some minor injuries, it's normal. I don't need bed rest." San shrugged.

"Just listen to the doctor, San. No fighting for a bit. In the mean time, help Wooyoung out with the casino stuff." Hongjoong instructed. San was going to protest but decided against it.

"Fine." He slumped.

"At least until you've recovered. Oversee things as the owner, just don't participate." Seonghwa told him.

"Easy for you to say, hyung. You get into a motorcycle crash and still continue racing." San glared. Seonghwa's eyes widened but San knew what he was doing.

"You what?" Hongjoong asked. Seonghwa muttered a curse and shot San the stink eye before slowly turning to see Hongjoong there, with his hands on his hips and a disappointed frown on his face. San smiled victoriously, he wasn't going down on his own.

"It wasn't a major crash." Seonghwa sighed.

"Still a crash, nonetheless Hwa! How could you continued racing?" Hongjoong scolded. Seonghwa rolled his eyes and held Hongjoong's shoulder, pushing him out of the room.

"Hongjoong, don't overreact. It was a minor thing. No serious injuries." Seonghwa said.

"Still, you should tell me if you get hurt." Hongjoong said.

"I will, I will. Now please get back to work. I don't want to find you loitering in the garden." Seonghwa teased. Hongjoong squinted his eyes at Seonghwa.

"Don't even go there." He warned and walked back to his office to do work.

If Hongjoong was worried about you, he could just periodically check in on you from his office window. No, not creepy at all.

"Luckily I have my spade at least." You sighed in relief as you dug through the soil to uproot one of the plants. You felt bad for creating such a mess and getting the soil onto the pavement. But you needed to move the plants, you would have to help them clean up the pavements later when you're done.

"There you go. Welcome to your new home." You smiled as you placed the plant into the new hole you dug, shovelling the soil over the roots and lightly packing it down.

"Excuse me, where's the bathroom?" You entered the house.

"Let me take you, miss." The maid bowed and led you down one of the hallways. She opened the bathroom door for you.

"Thanks." You smiled and entered. The first thing you did was wash your hands thoroghly, not wanting to drop any dirt or soil on the ground of the house.

When you were done with the bathroom, you stepped out and almost bumped into someone.

"I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed and bowed repeatedly. The man shot you an odd look. He was covered in injuries.

"It's fine." He mumbled and walked past you, continuing on his way. Even if you didn't know him, it was concerning to see someone so badly hurt. Was he in a fight? Or did he get beaten up?

"Miss, do you need help getting back to the garden?" A maid came up to you when she saw you standing there in the hallway. You lied and nodded your head. With a small smile, she led you back to where the backyard was.

"Thanks." You smiled gratefully and went back to the area you were initially working on.

"Yunho sshi?" You blinked, seeing him stand there, looking at the hole in the soil that you had dug up previously.

"Why are you digging holes?" He asked.

"Some of the plants are in the wrong soil or shouldn't be grown next to each other so I'm trying to move them. I can't do it all today but I'll start plot by plot." You explained.

"Isn't all soil the same? It's dirt." He stated. There was such a confused look on his face as he tilted his head at you.

"A lot of people think all soil is the same, just dirt. But there are different nutrition levels, the way they retain water, all that differs from soil to soil. Even how they pack around the roots." You giggled.

"Oh... If all the soil here is the same, our gardeners before you must really suck." Yunho clicked his tongue.

"Hongjoong said the same thing earlier too but all I can say is, being a gardener isn't as easy as it seems." You shrugged.

"You're too humble, (y/n)." Yunho smiled charmingly. The two of you burst out laughing. You were unaware that Yunho sent a small wave to someone who was watching your entire interaction from his office window.

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cosmorice · 3 months ago

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Oh God, Are You Pregnant?

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Synopsis: CEO!Jungkook and you have an odd relationship filled with tension and chaos; but is it hatred he truly has for you?

Pairing: CEO! Jungkook x Reader

Tw: angst, slow-burn, swearing (duh), toxic jungkook, accidental pregnancy

Wc: 1782

I hate you, I think? Series Masterlist

Hair askew, time seems to come to a standstill and dread soon rushes throughout you. What the hell did you just do? Without another word, Jungkook adjusts himself and straightens out his appearance quickly before exiting the bathroom; Leaving you all alone with your thoughts. The smell of his cologne lingers and dances with the sterile bathroom aroma, leaving you nauseated.

You hastily fix your once-neat hair into a rather quick but spotless bun, followed by readjusting and smoothing out your dress. You just had sex with your boss. A mixture of emotions floods you but the show must go on; Everyone was still out there. The bathrooms white walls reminds you of an asylum, somewhere you’d much rather be at right now.

The walk back to the massive gathering felt rather slow; What seemed like 30 minutes, was actually 2 in reality. Namjoon quickly spots you and is relieved until he sees your dazed state of being. Jimin and Jin on the other hand, were conversing alongside Jungkook with another investor.

“What happened? Everything alright? We saw Jungkook follow you not too long ago.” Namjoon confusedly asks. You sneak a glance towards Jungkook and scoff. The way he can quickly build a facade and act as if he wasn’t just screwing you in the midst of this event was mind boggling. You nod quickly with a tight lipped smile, giving it away that all was not quiet on the western front.

“We’ll discuss this later. This conversation is not over Y/N.” With all being said, Namjoon returns to his conversational state as more investors approach you both. The fakeness of it all left you feeling even more conflicted.

“Care to explain why you were trailing behind Y/N earlier?” Jin questions as Jungkook types away on his work laptop. Jungkook shoos Jin away, indicating that this topic was not up for discussion, instantly raising a red flag. “Jung, I’m going to ask one more ti-,”

“It was nothing. I was simply just pulling her aside to let her know not to be nervous with those men.” Jungkook responds casually as he fiddles with his lip ring, eyes never breaking away from the computer screen.

His legs were enveloped within the bedsheets while Jin remained on the miniature couch placed near the window. The days events leaving both men utterly exhausted.

“You’re lying.” Jin spits out, noticing the behavior. Jungkook only played with his lip ring when he was nervous, and when he was nervous, it usually pointed towards him lying. Jin delivers a smack upside his friend’s head, earning a small ‘ow’ from the unsuspecting man. “You know the last time you played with your lip ring? When I found out you were lying and hid a cancelled deal with the Hong Kong investors from me.”

Jungkook was fucked. Guess that’s what he deserves after keeping a friend like Jin for 20+ years.

“Joonie, I already told you all there is to it. I was simply going to the bathroom. He walked right past me and headed towards the men’s bathroom. Nothing more, nothing less.” You state as you undo your hair. Your head pulsates from all the overwhelming thoughts.

“Alright but if you want to talk about it, you know I’m here Y/N.” He responds softly. Namjoon didn’t believe a single damn thing you just said, but he didn’t want to press the matter any further. He then turns towards the door to leave.

You could do one of two things: let it go, or, keep the mask on and continue with your night. Your spiraling mind decides to betray you. “Wait!” You call out, biting your cheek. The iron taste of blood engulfs your taste buds as nervousness overpowers you. Namjoon turns towards you, puzzled, but walks back over nonetheless.

“What is it?”

“Do you think, Jungkook ever crosses the line with people? Like blurring between professionalism and whatnot?” You ask not being able to keep any sort of eye contact with your friend.

“I mean, in what way? In terms of his duties as a CEO, yeah. I see him go behind that threshold.” Namjoon exhales sharply, wanting to know why you’d even ask such a thing.

“Not as a CEO…Just like, with his employees. Has he ever, I don’t know, crossed a boundary with anyone?” You shrug weakly, trying not to give way to the overwhelming sense of wanting to cry. Namjoon’s eyes narrow towards you, tilting his head. The gears begin to turn,

“Y/N..” He starts, his voice dropping. “Did something happen between you both tonight?” The question rings throughout your ears and tightens around your throat like a noose.

The dam you built up for yourself begins to crack and suddenly, tears cascade down your face. “To be quite honest, I don’t even know what happened myself.” You laugh weakly. The bed indents further as Namjoon scoots closer alongside your shaking body.

“Just try your best to explain.” Namjoon responds with great comfort intertwined with his voice. For the first time since being in your room, you look into his eyes. You wipe your tear streaked face, unable to hold back anymore. The dam broke.

“Namjoon..” You start, indicating the seriousness of the conversation itself. You hardly used Namjoon’s name unless if it was something huge, which is something he also caught onto. Your voice begins trembling, “I don’t know where I stand with Jungkook now or with myself.” The weight of everything settles within your chest.

“You don’t need to have everything figured out right now, but whatever happened with you and him, is something you have to face eventually.” Namjoon’s calm voice was a simmering contrast against your unusual demeanor.

You shake your head as your hands tremble within your lap. “What if it changes everything? What if it changes how you view me? How everyone sees me?”

“Y/N, whatever it is, I’m always going to be here for you. You know that right? No matter what.” The weight of his reassuring words persuade you into telling him everything.

The remainder of the work trip goes by in a blur; Jungkook elects to flat our ignore you. Whenever you came in his presence, you felt like a ghost. You couldn’t tell if this was worse compared to how he treated you before. Namjoon decides to share a room with you upon taking notice of your newly formed fragile state.

Upon returning back to the office, you felt as if you were walking on shards of glass. Jungkook barely glances your way during meetings with his typical sly remarks being replaced by complete silence. It was defeaning. Every so often, upon the mere mention of your name, his jaw tightens with flickering eyes, an indicator he’s burying something deeper within himself. Unbeknownst to him, Namjoon was knowledgable on the topic of what really occurred that day within the confines of the bathroom.

Namjoon keeps a closer eye on you. Much closer than he ever has in the entirety of your friendship. Another evening paints the sky in darkened colors as you’re the last ones left within the office.

“Ever since we got back, it seems like you’re holding your breath.” Namjoon states, voice lowered.

“If I exhale, I’ll fall apart at the seams.” You blink towards him. He sighs, taking a seat across from your desk. The chair creaks beneath his weight.

“It will get better.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Days eventually turn into weeks as time steadily flies by; mending your emotional state in the process. Today marks the second day of the stomach flu that has overcome your body. Jimin and Namjoon decidedly head to your apartment after work to drop off some ‘get well’ supplies; Composing of soups, crackers, and cough syrup.

Jimin, remaining his normal warm self, had grown even closer to you and Namjoon. This being a natural shift, though he remained out of the loop about what really happened during the business trip. He was always just there, offering a steady hand, unknowingly filling in the cracks Jungkook left behind. A steady knocking at the door rings throughout your apartment, indicating the arrival of your friends.

“Y/N you look like shit.” Jimin exclaims, earning a hit to the chest from Namjoon. The brief exchange earning a laugh out of you.

“Don’t listen to him. I’ll make you some soup.” Namjoon states matter-of-factly, making his way towards your kitchen island. The grocery bags crinkle against the marble counter as he ruffles for the can of tomato soup. Your favorite.

The crisp metal of the can opens with a pop, and as the aroma reaches your nose, nausea possesses your body. With a gag, you slap your hand atop your mouth and make a beeline towards the bathroom; Namjoon and Jimin exchanging quiet and confused glances.

“I thought you said it was her favorite.” Jimin pouts with a whine.

“It is?” Namjoon scratches his head dumbfoundedly as they both stand amongst each other in the brightly lit kitchen.

You hunch over the toilet, spilling what little contents you had within your system. After standing to collect yourself and flush the disgusting mixture, you hover over and grip onto the sink. Trying to convince yourself it’s just the flu, your mind wanders as the nausea feels…wrong. Could it be anything more?

“Y/N, can we open the door?” Jimin’s voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Yes.” You weakly respond, your throat burning from the phantasmic acidic juices coating it.

“What’s going on? Namjoon said tomato soup was your favorite.” Jimin states, voice tainted with confusion. Namjoon looks to you, awaiting your answer.

“I honestly don’t know.” You stutter. Something was wrong. You could feel it in your bones.

You return to work once again several days after, everyone happy to be graced by your presence; Except for Jungkook. Namjoon and Jimin never fail to notice the way you run to the bathroom in the mornings or how you indulged in odd food combinations during your lunch breaks.

It was once again lunch time and luckily, the three of you found solace in your office.

“Y/N, you’re acting like my sister when she was pregnant with my baby niece.” Jimin jokes, causing Namjoon to begin thinking. You did have sex with Jungkook over a month and a half-ago, and if he recalled correctly, no protection was involved. Oh god.

Your eyes widen at Jimin’s statement upon realizing you hadn’t had your period at all. You stare blankly at Jimin along with Namjoon. It could just be a coincidence as you remember that the last time you got severely stressed it had affected your cycle; With that being remembered, you shrug off the worry and ease up a bit.

"You know, the last time I was as stressed as you, I was pretty damn sick to my stomach. Throwing up everyday. Maybe you just need a break." Jimin says, mouth full of tteokbokki. Namjoon feels his once tense muscles smooth out upon Jimin's statement. Upon you all chalking it up to stress, you resume with your meal.

taglist!!! :

@juikmon @sassykryptonitedelusion @theternaljk @tatumrileyslover @topforsure @senaqsstuff @santiiagopopegarcia @fandems

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randybutternubber · 2 months ago

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The whole “de extinction of the dire wolf” makes me SO MAD.

It is not a dire wolf. They just fucked with a grey wolf’s genome in like 20 different places. They aren’t even in the same genus.

Iirc They also haven’t stated what studies/info they used in order to determine what parts they changed. This company is looking for investors and is purposefully misleading the public.

I don’t even want to think about what health issues these poor animals could have in the future. Heart issues, arthritis, blindness, etc.

chances are once people forget about them they’ll be put down because of health issues or something similar. They aren’t dire wolves, they’re just grey wolves that have been genetically altered to fit the public perception of what a dire wolf is. They literally are made to look like the wolves in game of thrones, and named like them too.

47 failures and 3 successes, I seriously hope most of them died in utero.

We should be investing money into the conservation of these animals, not just exploiting and genetically twisting them for no good reason.

Do not let them do this shit with elephants.

Elephants need all the support they can get to keep their species alive as it is. Elephants also have a crazy long gestation period. They used domestic dogs to carry the wolves, idk if there’s a surrogate animal they can use for elephants.

These animals will likely live miserable lives and die young.

I’m not against genetic engineering, I’m against lying to people and genetically changing organisms purely for profit without caring of the consequences that could arise or doing so or altering organisms irresponsibly.

They can study these things while the animals are in utero. These wolves should have never come to term. This is NOT a viable method of de extinction.

Im super sick so im sorry if this rant sounds insane but omfg do not let them create the most mid Paleozoic park filled with the most miserable ass animals ever.

#paleontology #dire wolves #biology #genetic engineering #genetics #science #I’m so mad dawg #animals #de extinction #wolves #animal conservation

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sierrale8ne · 6 months ago

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40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER THIRTEEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch

warnings this one is pretty sad ngl, some internal realizations, angst

kalena speakss 🪽! don’t jump me i swear things are happier next chapter lmao

July 2025 — Los Angeles, California

I’m happy.

The phrase plays over and over in my head like a mantra, like I'm trying to convince myself more than I am everyone else.

Music blares loudly at the Sparks gala, some fancy art museum that was all done up to make our coach and our GM look good, and to make the hundreds of rich donors in the building give money to the organization.

It’s working though, apparently a new practice facility is on the way.

It’s my first Gala, which means Brit dressed me in a fancy pinstriped suit: white button up, black tie. My hair, freshly dyed, falls straight over my shoulders. Some silver chains layered on my neck, studs in my ears.

I look good.

And in a room full of women, I should be taking advantage of the opportunity. But I’m not even sure I want to with the way Maraye is all I can think about.

I think it’s been, scratch that, it's literally been the longest five days of my life. I’ve sent so many texts that my thumbs are swollen, and checked my phone at all hours of the night that my eyes were burning.

She runs through my head during all hours of the day. And if I had a chance to talk to her just once I think everything would be fine.

So you can imagine how quick my neutral expression just flips when I see her. Maraye, in a beautiful floor length navy gown. Her hair done up in a side part, a golden cuff tracing her ear. The tattoo that trails down her neck to her shoulder is even more visible by the way her hair drapes over her shoulder.

I knew she was here, her attendance being part of the reason I dressed up and made my way here. She was all I needed to see. Not all the investors that wanted to talk to the number one pick, or anyone else who wanted me to be Paige Bueckers the basketball player.

I needed to see her. The one who made me feel like I was just me.

"Either y'all say something to each other or move on, P." Cameron snickers as she watches my attempt to just go through the motions. "You have all these girls here and you’re not paying ‘em any mind."

Raye had just finished up a conversation with Coach Roberts. Which makes the smallest change to my expression because there she was, smiling and laughing with my head coach and I can’t help but to wonder if they’re talking about me. If just a little bit of that bright smile of hers is at the mention of my name.

"Better watch out, that girl over there with her mouth watering." Dearica jokes as she points to whoever the hell is making her way over to Raye with her hand on Raye’s arm.

A blonde. Hair shorter than mine and she herself is probably shorter than me too.

I can’t even see her face, but I bet she’s smiling, telling her some corny joke because it makes Raye giggle, and now I’m angry. There’s no way it could be that funny.

I feel wrong. Out of place in a room where, in the least cocky sounding way possible, I literally commanded attention.

But none of it matters, because I stand here, letting my teammates ridicule me over something they know nothing about, while wanting to insert myself into whatever she and Maraye were discussing.

Even more than that, me and her had our own private matters to discuss. There were too many words left unsaid to bring to the surface.

I couldn’t let it all go to waste without talking to her. That’s it. I let it go for five days, but any longer and I was sure that there’d be no more fixing it.

“Okay, I was just kidding but— oh my God you have feelings for her.” Cameron chuckles, and from the corner of my eye I see her jaw drop a little.

“Cam, just shut up for a second.”

I think about when I went to dinner with Nika, and the most important thing that sets in my head while I’m shamelessly staring is when she asked if there was anything holding me back.

Then, I said yes. That the thing was holding me back from Raye was my career.

But now, I feel like an idiot because the real thing holding me back was myself. My shitty relationship skills and my very obvious commitment issues when it came to having feelings for someone.

In what felt like milliseconds, my feet were moving faster than my brain and I was almost in reach of her when my eyes connected with Raye’s.

I can’t read her face. If she’s still hurt or if she wants to find a way to hit me with a car. It’s just blank. Which in my opinion is ten times worse than her giving me a reaction. There is none.

I do, however, pick up on this; the pure amusement when a girl approached me.

I remember her. Tanned skin and curls that framed her face. One of the few girls I’ve had a one night stand with after getting drafted.

"Paige, hey!” She grins, her hand resting on my forearm.

I couldn't help but look past her to see Raye’s response. It was clear that she didn't look pleased, turning away to listen to whatever was being said by other blondie.

I had to make a decision and it was literally my future vs. my very embarrassing past. I just know that letting this conversation continue for even a second longer, was a second that would make Raye hate me more than I think she already does.

"Sorry, if you'll excuse me." I mutter without another thought, not even taking a second look at the woman in front of me, choosing to continue my path to her.

Raye looks at me shocked. Her eyes went wider and her serious expression faltered just slightly.

I don’t even speak, just inserting myself in the space between the fellow blonde and the woman I hoped to take home tonight. Which might be just a bit forward, but I decided then that I didn’t even care.

"Buckets, good to see you!" The blonde greets me, a smile on her face as she senses nothing ill behind my appearance and shakes my hand.

My eyes don’t even look down to her for more than a second, physically stuck to the beauty in front of me.

"Mind if I cut in and speak to Maraye real quick?"

Raye raises her brow before placing her empty glass down. A cup of what I assume had to be a lemon drop.

Her hand presses to that girl's shoulder, smiling much to my irritation. But luckily she ends the conversation there, hopefully keeping it that way for the rest of the night.

Then she’s walking off in front of me, and my legs are moving all too fast to catch up to her. I end up following her out the gala hall and down the hallway, past some stairs, and then she stops. Turing on her Jimmy Choo heels to look at me with her arms crossed.

When I was laying in bed or sitting on my couch, the words I needed to say came easy. Having her stand in front of me though, makes it so much fucking harder.

“You don’t get to do this.”

“Ra—”

“Breaking up my conversation? What, Paige. What could you possibly have to say to me right now?” She asks me.

It’s a good question. I don’t know what I should tell her. Sorry isn’t going to cut it, not with her. I know better than to even try it again.

“Raye, we just need to talk. That’s it. It’s been five days.”

“And I don’t think that’s long enough! I spent seven days thinking about you and you spent seven days avoiding telling me the truth.” She bites. “I’m not ready. Let me be ready.”

And just as fast as I got her alone, she’s pushing off her heels and walking past me, so quick that I don’t even get the chance to reach for her. To hold her back and tell her everything that I’m feeling.

That— the inability to speak to the only person that I really want to be around— that hurts more than anything else I think I’ve ever felt in my life.

So I lied. I’m not happy.

I’m very fucking miserable.

—

July 2025 — Los Angeles, California

It’s hard to explain the feeling.

When I was in her house— Paige trying her hardest to keep me there, within reach— my mind was racing. When we stood face to face at the gala the other night and Paige was looking at me with all the hurt so obvious in her eyes, my heart almost stopped completely.

But now that it’s been over a week since I found out, I think the closest thing to describe all this is numb. I’m numb to it all.

Every time something comes along that reminds me of her— a pretty blonde on the tv, a tweet about the sparks, anything fucking purple— I don’t get upset nor do I cry, I just sit there. Like I'm doing now.

Cassie sits soundly next to me on the couch, I’ve decided that I really needed some older sister love tonight. My head rests on her shoulder, a plate of banana pudding in my lap that reminds me too much of Paige and the first night I really got to know her.

It’s all too emotional. The way Cassie runs her hands through my hair or rubs my shoulder without asking questions. Add on the romance movie on the screen.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, 10 Things I Hate About You plays on my TV, and watching Kat Stratford read her poem makes the tears flow from my eyes nearly as hard as they did last week.

“Ra—no, don’t cry! It’s okay.” Cassie immediately attempts to comfort me, but my eyes aren’t even glued to the screen anymore.

They stare up at the ceiling, as if looking at the white expanse would stop them from falling.

It doesn’t.

It just gives me the perfect background to picture me and her. All of the late night FaceTimes. I can see the screen of my Mac, or my phone, and I can see her in the center of it. I can hear that laugh, loud and so uniquely Paige.

All the late night drives, the chipotle runs, the waffle house breakfasts. Everything I’ve ever done with her just consumes me.

Cassie’s palm spreads over my check, attempting to wipe what’s left of the streaks on my face. It’s almost second nature to her, taking care of me.

“Okay I wasn’t gonna mention Paige, but now you’re crying over a movie we’ve seen thousands of times.” She starts tugging me into her and rubbing my back gently. “Talk to me Chuchi.” She pouts and I laugh at the nickname I probably haven’t heard since I was like 12 years old.

I’ve done a good job at keeping this whole Paige thing under wraps. Nobody knew what was going on between us anyway, and I don’t think we really knew what was going on either until it was being stripped away.

But it was stupid of me to think my sister wouldn’t pick up on the signs. I used to find every excuse to bring Paige up in conversation, and now I haven’t talked about her for a week.

“Is it supposed to hurt this bad?” I ask. “Cause if it is, I swear I’m never getting involved with another woman again.” I sniff, wiping my eyes languidly.

“If it does, that just means you really like her.” Cassie explains. It’s so soft. Like saying anything else, anything real, would break me apart into a million pieces. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

I do. So, I do.

I tell her everything, she’s my sister of course. I leave out nothing, telling her everything I felt when Paige first tumbled into us at the game. To the dinner party, which makes me cry some more over the banana pudding.

Each memory replays in my head like a vivid movie scene. The way Paige kissed me: always skillful but still a bit hesitant like she was trying to learn me, learn my tells and what makes me smile. And as I speak I can still feel her lips and her hands, smell her cologne so vividly that I swear it’s probably lingering on my hoodie right now.

I can so clearly recall everything that went down in her apartment. How fucking happy I was behind that door and how my smile only grew when she opened it and I got to see her again. After days of yearning for her.

After days of wanting her and thinking of her and needing her.

How she touched me that day. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell her about how Julian and I were done. But she still touched me so intimately. Like she already knew.

Her hands on my thighs and mine playing with that blonde hair on the nape of her neck. Blue eyes staring into mine like she’d die if she looked away.

Paige had that way of making you think you were the only person in the world. The only person she wanted or cared for, just by looking into your eyes.

And I fell victim to it.

I remember every single word she said to me that day. I also remember every single word I said to her.

Which doesn’t really help when you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re not in the wrong. That walking out was a good decision.

The way her voice raised when she got defensive, telling me I didn’t “get to be upset”. Then the way it immediately contrasted when she apologized. That subtle crack of her voice replayed in my mind over and over like a skipping record.

I’ve only ever been cheated on once in my life. I was young, in high school, in a relationship that lasted a few years.

And that one hurt. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep.

It did make for some good music.

But this. This whatever with Paige feels ten times worse.

I swear I can feel each pulse and throb of my heart in my chest. Each mention of her name causes a few stray, dramatic tears to pool at my waterline.

By the time I finish telling Cassie everything, my nose is already puffy and reddened. I think I’ve stopped crying now, but I'm not sure because my cheeks are still wet. Tissues pile in my lap and some new romance movie plays on the screen.

I didn’t know how much I was holding back until now. Until it was all laid out in front of me and my sister.

“You gotta talk to her, Raye.” She shrugs. I know I do. But thinking about it and actually doing it are two different things.

I look at her wearily. My tongue is poking at the corner of my lips as I think. “I dunno if I’m ready yet, Cas.” I mumble, my voice low. Almost embarrassed.

“I know.” She comforts, running her finger over my knee. “But maybe hearing her out is gonna make things clearer for you. Don’t let this get in the way of what you want.”

I let that sink in. Replaying her words in my head until they stick.

Don’t let this get in the way of what you want.

—

July 2025 — Seattle, Washington

The ball passed through the net consistently. Swish after swish as if I had a point to make or something to prove.

And I do.

I’ve been playing like shit these last couple games before all-star. I blame it on Maraye and my inability to get her out of my head.

So instead of getting sleep, and quite possibly dreaming about her and those perfect eyes, I’m on the court at our hotel, putting up shot after shot until the sound of the nylon and the leather becoming one just meshes in my brain like music.

Music. Yet another thing that reminds me of her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

It’s Rickea. Her voice is easy to spot even with my back turned.

“I’m getting shots up Kea.”

“Well I can see that. It’s two in the morning, P.”

I chase after my rebound once again before looking at her lazily. Completely decked out in Sparks gear, similarly to myself.

I think my silence in this whole matter is part of the reason why I’m struggling so badly. But I don’t know who to talk to. Azzi and Nika would take it upon themselves to fix it. Cam would call me an idiot, which I’ve accepted at this point but still it isn’t what I need.

Kea already told me my head would be served on a silver platter for making a mess.

So I keep it all to myself.

Basketball was my therapy. I’d get in the gyms and shoot till someone was coming in and telling me to go home. Then, everything would be fine.

Except now it’s not fine. Because I get up, go to the gym, and the entire time I’m shooting, I just think about Raye.

“Ion know what to do, Kea.” I shrug, my voice sounding so different than what I’m used to hearing. It’s not certain, actually the complete opposite.

I take another shot. The second it leaves my hands, I know it’s off. The rim clunks loudly at my miss, and that alone is enough to break me down from the inside out.

“Paige.”

“I need to get her back.” I sniff, not even registering the single tear that immediately trails down my cheek. “Help me get her back, Kea.”

Rickea is walking over to me in an instant, stepping in front of me to stop me from grabbing another ball and letting this cycle consume me for another couple hours. She looks at me with something I can’t quite grasp. Like sympathy, but at the same time her eyes are stern like she’s pissed at me.

I deserve that. She told me she’d kill me if I hurt Raye. And I did, bad.

“Paige. Jus’ breathe, aight? Breathe and listen to me for a second.” She says, hands splayed on my shoulders in an attempt to ground me.

This is the most vulnerable I’ve ever been with any of my teammates, let alone Rickea. Usually it’s dumb jokes, and making fun of each other, prying a bit too hard into each of our personal lives. But I nod anyway, taking a shaking breath and wiping my face.

“I’m not gonna tell you how much you fucked up. You already know that.” She starts. “You’re so used to being in control that when you’re not, you start spiraling. Just breathe. Give her time.”

She’s right. I’m usually in control of everything. My career, my family, Maraye. And now that she’s taking control of us, causing that distance, I don’t know what to do.

“This shit fuckin’ hurts, Kea.” I groan, turning around to walk over to the bench. “I know I made a mistake but damn, it’s eating me alive.”

She racks up the balls for me before taking a seat next to me. I probably stink, all the sweat from my late night workout. But still Rickea wraps an arm around me, much different than any of the hugs we’ve had before. Like she doesn’t care about anything else but comforting me.

“You see where she’s coming from tho, right?” She asks me. “If Raye doesn’t wanna talk it’s prolly because she doesn’t wanna hurt you more. I know her well enough to know that mouth is reckless.” She jokes, and it brings a smile to my face because it’s true.

“So instead, she got me payin’ for my mistake by feeling the absence of her in my life.”

“Exactly!” Kea nods as if this is some astute observation. “Well, I dunno if that’s a good thing. But hold onto some hope, Five. She likes you. She doesn’t have to tell me that for me to see it.”

Surprisingly the words do soothe me a bit. If I’m feeling like shit over my own decision, I can only imagine how she’s feeling. With all the shit she got going on work wise, to have me pile more shit on top of it must be terrible.

“Just wait it out a little longer. I like you both together more than I like you apart, okay?”

I nod, holding on to those words tight.

Even though I’m missing her. I just have to wait it out. Whenever she’s ready.

#sierrale8ne #kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb #la sparks #lesbian #my fic #40 days and 40 nights

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kathaelipwse · 4 months ago

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Stuck With You

Masterlist

<<<previous chapter | next chapter>>>

Pairing: CEO!J.Yunho x Secretary!Reader

Trope: Grumpy x Sunshine

Warnings: Smau, Fluff, grumpy yunho, bickering, teasing

Word count: 0.9k

Author's note: Hie lovies! I hope y'll are fine! Thank you for the love and support! Enjoyyyy!! Also! Request's are open!!

Chapter 3: The Aftermath of a Storm

A steady warmth. The slow, rhythmic sound of a heartbeat. The soft sensation of fingers tangled in his hair.

Yunho’s mind stirred, still caught in the haze of sleep. For a moment, he felt... peaceful. Which was unusual, considering the circumstances. Then, reality settled in. His eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he saw was you, still asleep, your head tilted slightly, your arms loosely wrapped around him.

His entire body stiffened.

He was lying against you. His head was on your chest. Your fingers were in his hair.

What the hell?

Yunho’s first instinct was to move, quickly—but any sudden movement would wake you. And despite the sheer mortification clawing at his brain, he hesitated.

Because… this felt nice. Safe, even.

And then, you stirred.

Yunho shut his eyes immediately, pretending to still be asleep, which was ridiculous. He was a CEO, for god’s sake, not a coward. But for some reason, facing you right now felt harder than dealing with board meetings full of investors.

You sighed softly, shifting slightly before your fingers unconsciously moved through his hair again. Yunho bit the inside of his cheek, fighting the odd shiver that ran down his spine. He was about to say something, anything—to end this when he heard your voice, still thick with sleep.

“…You awake?”

Yunho kept his eyes closed.

A beat of silence. Then—

“I know you’re awake.”

Yunho scowled and finally opened his eyes, meeting your amused gaze. You were smirking.

Damn it.

“Good morning, sir,” you teased, your voice holding back laughter. “Did you sleep well?”

Yunho immediately sat up, running a hand through his hair as if to erase the evidence of what had just happened. “Don’t.”

You tilted your head. “Don’t what?”

Yunho shot you a glare. “Don’t make this a thing.”

“Oh, but it is a thing,” you mused, stretching slightly. “CEO Jeong Yunho, using his secretary as a personal pillow—”

Yunho groaned. “I was not using you as a pillow.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because the way you were all snuggled up—”

“Enough.” Yunho pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting everything.

You bit back a laugh but decided to let it go. For now. Instead, you shifted gears. “Feeling better?”

Yunho’s eyes flickered to you, his expression unreadable. Then, after a pause, he gave a short nod. “Yeah.”

You considered asking about the panic attack—what exactly had triggered it—but something told you not to push. If he wanted to tell you, he would. So instead, you just nodded back. “Good.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the distant sounds of the storm finally dying out. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, the sky still gray but not as suffocating as the night before.

Yunho exhaled, glancing out the window. “We should get moving. Now that we have signal again, we can find our way out.”

You hummed. “Right. Wouldn’t want to keep Ulsan waiting.”

He shot you a look. “Don’t start.”

But you just grinned, knowing full well you had plenty of teasing material now.

~ A Few Hours Later — Ulsan

Yunho was beyond irritated.

Not only had you both missed the first event, but the event committee had given your hotel room away.

“They tried contacting you,” you reminded Yunho as he ran a hand through his hair, staring down at the hotel receptionist with a dangerously blank expression.

“Yes, but we were stranded in the middle of nowhere,” Yunho muttered. “What kind of professional event assumes we’re not coming just because of a lack of response?”

The receptionist gave an apologetic smile. “I’m truly sorry, sir. The rooms were in high demand due to the storm, and when we couldn’t reach you, we had to accommodate other guests.”

You sighed. “Okay. No big deal. We can just book another room, right?”

The receptionist winced.

“…Right?” you repeated, a sinking feeling creeping in.

“Well, sir, the thing is…” She hesitated. “There’s only one room left.”

Silence.

You blinked. Yunho’s jaw twitched.

“One?” Yunho repeated slowly.

The receptionist nodded. “Yes. A deluxe suite.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Oh.”

Yunho exhaled sharply. You could feel his frustration radiating off of him. After everything—getting lost, the storm, the panic attack, and now this?

You turned to him cautiously. “So… do you want to find another hotel?”

He ran a hand down his face. “There’s no point. Every other decent hotel is probably booked too.”

You hesitated. “So that means—”

“We’re sharing a room.” Yunho’s voice was flat.

You stared at him. “You say that like it physically pains you.”

“It does.”

You gasped. “Wow. The audacity.”

He ignored you and turned back to the receptionist. “Fine. We’ll take it.”

As she processed the reservation, you leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. “You better not snore.”

Yunho gave you a deadpan look. “You better not snore.”

You grinned, nudging him with your elbow. “You know, sir, this trip might just be the best bonding experience ever.”

Yunho muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “I hate this.”

But as you took the key card and headed for the elevator, you couldn’t help but smirk.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

....To Be Continued.

---

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spitdrunken · 1 year ago

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Vox x Reader Relationship Headcanons

This post contains SPOILERS in the sense that it is based off of the version of Vox as presented in episode 2. None of the actual plot points featured within are discussed. notes: background vox x valentino / polyamory (reader only dates vox), extremely unhealthy relationships, stalking, manipulation, hypnosis, power imbalance. kidnapping + physical abuse mention (neither done by vox)

To catch the eye of a demon as powerful as Vox is not an ideal situation. While he could be considered more levelheaded than your average demon, and certainly is when compared to his associates, he still has things that rile him up like no other. No, he doesn’t have a whole string of sexual partners to use and abuse like Valentino does, but that makes the weight of his gaze all the more crushing when it does fall upon someone.

Once you’ve got his interest, it’s practically impossible to slip away from him. He’s got vantage points all across the Pride Ring, being able to slip in and out of its many scattered screens with ease. While the usual tracking Vox Media subjects its customers to is already an invasion of privacy, yours would be on a whole other level.

With how inescapable his company is amongst Sinner demons, it’s more than likely you’ve at least got some kind of device he’d be able to peer into. As soon as your phone is being plugged into a port, he’d be skimming through your messages and search history. Though your face-to-face meetings might have been minimal or non-existent at this point, he would already know far more about you than most of your friends. …You should really clear out your search history more often. But, hey, he’s not unhappy about it! There’s no traces of his presence as soon as he’s done.

Vox cares a great deal about his reputation and image. Not only because he’s the very face of a high-earning brand, but it is also simply the kind of person he is. Whereas someone like Valentino might have gone right ahead and shot any possible partner in the head, Vox is much more careful than that. What would people think, if he simply went around and started electrocuting a bunch of unknowns to death? No, that’s just not his way of doing things whatsoever.

Even besides that, there’s also much more satisfaction in it, to him, to convince you to leave them and join him, of your own accord. Vox has always been the brain behind all operations, the meticulous and thoughtful one, the one who got investors on board and appeared in interviews. In other words, he’s become quite good with words, and can easily come off as charming whenever he so wishes. That is exactly the way he will present himself to you, at least at first: a demon unlike other demons, practically a gentleman.

You wouldn’t have known him from his early days, the time where he still made mistakes, and nobody knew his name. When he invites you over for dinner (through an email that you’re convinced is fake spam, the first couple of times you receive it), he wants to appear nothing but infallible and powerful to you. You, who is only familiar with him through screens, as a flawless news presenter, gameshow host, and much more. A smile would never leave his screen, and he is constantly courteous.

He’s got a couple of expensive gifts at the ready as well, ones that hail from his own company. Perhaps it’s the newest iteration in his own line of phones, or a brand-new kind of security system. He’ll wave off any kind of dismissal of his gift, telling to just take it, you don’t even know how many of those he has lying around! Trust him. (In fact, they are modified to grant him even more easy access into your life. A constant stream of information directed at him, with Vox never even having to enter your device anymore.)

In a place like the Pride Ring in Hell, existence is demeaning at best, and utterly miserable at worst, for the average demon. Vox is more than aware of this and, at first, doesn’t even try his absolute best to sweep you off your feet. The power and the safety net someone such as himself would provide would be more than enough for most people. For the average demon, time spent by his side would be a vast improvement, and no one can deny that.

And, in this case, he is most likely interested in someone with far less power than him: you. Whether actively aware of it or not, and if he was, he’d never admit it, a part of Vox desires to be with someone from whom affection comes more easily. And that is… Not Valentino. Not that he’d ever separate from him, mind you, you’d simply be the antithesis to him. If you aren’t, he’ll make you something closer to that.

One of the largest drawbacks that immediately becomes noticeable, is the political target spending time around Vox makes you. Whether he purposefully makes the two of you appear in Hell’s largest tabloid, or only goes someplace where the two of you are sure to be spotted, you’ll surely become a demon worthy of kidnapping after this. It is exactly this, and the fear that comes along with it, that Vox would weaponize against you.

Wouldn’t it be much better, and safer, to stay in one of the company’s buildings? You’re bound to get kidnapped anywhere else, you know. He’s just looking out for you! Really though, he’d never let something like that happened to you. Not only because such an occurence would cause his reputation to take a great hit, but also because he cares! The praises he heaps on top of you are never outright lies, though some are perhaps exaggerated. He wouldn’t spend so much time on a demon he wasn’t genuinely interested in.

Vox, to the vast majority of people, would come on too strong, and too fast. The kind of attention that comes from someone who hasn’t been denied anything in a long time. At the same time, underneath his collected demeanor, seen in his stalking and meticulous collection of information, there is something that could be seen as a glimmer of desperation.

One might stop and think that, if he truly were as capable and faultless as he makes himself out to be, why would he go through all of this trouble? Wouldn’t simply being himself, or something rather close to it, be enough? This is truly where the heart of the issue, his deeply-hidden insecurity, shines through. Besides just the way the thought of being rejected by you upsets him, as well as he tries to hide it, he can’t simply back out, now that he’s spent so much time around you. He’d never live it down.

If, for some reason, ‘diplomacy’ and his usual wooing doesn’t work… He’s an Overlord for a reason. He still has plenty of tricks left up his sleeve. He can manipulate any digital image he wants, including video, without ever touching editing software. Vox can show you the people closest to you saying outright brutal things about you, with their exact mannerisms and voice. All data gathered through the various devices of his he owns, then capable of creating replicas. In a limited way, he can bend reality to his will.

If even that doesn’t work, he has his powers of hypnosis as a last resort. In this case, he doesn’t like having to use them, would have preferred the satisfaction over getting you to fawn over him all on your own… But it’s just so much easier to plant a little trigger inside your brain. For him to snap his fingers, and have you become more agreeable. Your thoughts growing that tiniest bit hazier, your head the slightest bit heavier.

All you have to do is look into his eyes, and take a deep breath… That’s better, isn’t it? What were you even getting so upset about before, huh? (And again, hypnosis is a last resort here. He’s spent so many years dealing with Valentino’s temper tantrums that he’s an expert at diffusing any kind of argument, and nothing surprises anymore.)

Vox wouldn’t be likely to physically hurt you at all. He sees himself as being capable of more self-control than that, even when in the throes of jealousy. Really, the one you should be most afraid of during this entire ordeal is Valentino. While their relationship is by no means monogamous, and it never will be, he’s still used to being the center of attention. He uses violence and unpredictability to have Vox, largely, at his every beck and call. While Vox isn’t used to having denied things, Valentino’s is many times worse about it.

Initially, he ignores you. Designating you as some kind of fling, not even worthy of being one of his whores, soon ready to be forgotten. Vox doesn’t do those kinds of things all that often but, hey, anything’s bound to happen with an eternity of time to kill, right? It’s only when you become a more permanent fixture in their life that he really becomes more of a threat.

He’ll let his temper cut loose, specifically during times where the two of you are spending time together, causing mayhem around the company. If Vox’s attention is entirely unwanted, this may even be a welcome reprieve for you. Still, Valentino being jealous of you should be about the last thing you want. Frankly, it makes you liable to get shot on a bad day, or because of a poorly worded comment.

…Perhaps it would be better to stay close to Vox, then.

#hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel x reader #yandere #hazbin hotel #cha.vox #cw.stalking #cw.hypnosis

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 2 years ago

Note

Hi!! i love your stories and was wondering if you do requests? if not im so sorry to bother you!!!!! and if you do than would it be ok if you could do a bull kiri and bull baku x heifer y/n? again if not im so sorry and hope you have a good day!!

In the Fruit Orchard (BakuKiri x F!Reader 18+ One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Bull!Bakugou Katsuki x Bull!Ejirou Kirishima x Heifer!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you, a heifer girl, get a night with the hottest bull boys on Aizawa's farm after a trip through the fruit orchard.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Animal Hybrid!KiriBaku x Animal Hybrid!Reader; Mild Sexual Harassment; Reader Makes First Move; Consensual; Foreplay; Mentions of Milk; Breeding Kink; Deepthroating; Facefucking; Praise; Missionary; Doggystyle; Creampie Kink; Cum on Body; Aftercare; Cuddle Pile

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I got this request a few days ago & had to give it a try. I hope you like it! -Jazz 💋💋

**********

They were the finest bulls on Shouta Aizawa’s farm.

And this wasn’t just something said between the farm animal hybrids that roamed the 300 acres. Any time Aizawa had any guests over at his farm, such as fellow farmers, investors looking to buy the farm (which usually never happened) and visitors who took advantage of the farmer’s market he threw every spring, they always made a point to comment on the two bulls.

“They’re so big and strong!” they’d say, watching in awe as one would toss several bails of hay while the other sharpened their horns on a nearby tree. Usually, every cow on the farm would be staring too, teeming with adoration for the two. “That’s why they’re here,” Aizawa would always say. “Nobody can handle those two but me.”

And that was the damn truth. There was no one that could handle the brute force, cockiness, or hot-headedness of the bull duo. They first came to the farm two years ago.

Apparently, Aizawa and his husband, Hizashi Yamada, had saved the two from an abusive animal ring where they were forced to fight other bulls. You weren’t there when they arrived at the farm, but from overhearing from your friends, they were coated in bruises, scars, and starved. Katsuki and Ejiro – or “Kiri” – they were named. Since their arrival, they’ve been celebrities on the farm.

You came to Aizawa’s farm last spring after your last owner died. You’ve enjoyed the rolling fields, endless apple trees, and comfortable pens ever since…but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy Katsuki and Kiri more. You’ll admit the first time you saw them, you were intimidated.

They were big, buff, and beautiful. Similar to centaurs, their upper halves were nothing but rippling muscle, from their thick pectorals right down to their rock-hard abs, while their bottom halves were of a bull––nothing but fine, dark hair covering thick muscles right down to their calves, thighs, and two hoofed feet. They always walked around with their bull rings glinting in the sunlight and steam protruding from their nostrils as they worked, sweat dripping down their skin in the hot sun.

You never talked to them before. You were more than happy to just watch. You weren’t sure you’d even know what to say to them. You’d probably trip over your words and feel too intimidated because of how big they were and how they towered over your small frame, no matter your size or shape. You imagined that this is why so many cows and heifers loved them so.

It wasn’t private knowledge that Katsuki and Kiri were a hit with the ladies. You’d catch them watching the bull duo with heart eyes all the time along the wooden gates where the cows were separated from the bulls. If they never watched, you’d hear them gossip about the two all day and night, whether during breakfast or at night in your pens. “God, they’re just so fucking hot!” they’d dreamily sigh. “I wish I could have one of them for my own.”

“Please, I’d take both of them,” another would chuckle. “They’re too sexy to choose just one. If I wasn’t already mated, I’d have them both give me their babies.” The lady cows would laugh while you’d just lay in your fluffy bed in your pen, your best friend and fellow lady cow Mina lying beside you. She’d turn to you in the late night when the pens were finally silent, her golden eyes glowing in the dark. “You’re always so quiet when the girls gossip about those two,” she’d whisper.

You’d shrug, staring up at the starry sky through the window-like hole above your pen. “Because I’m not interested in talking about those two like they’re pieces of meat,” you’d grumble. “Sure, they’re attractive, but it’s not necessary or appropriate.”

“Fair point,” Mina said, “but come on, you’ve gotta admit that they’re hot as fuck.” She’d smirk at you with her pink lips and snout as she rubbed her big belly that she got from Denki, one of the male cows here. “I would go for Kiri, personally. He’s such a sweetheart. What about you, Y/N? Who'd you go for?”

You just told her neither and went off to sleep as she giggled beside you, knowing you were full of shit. The truth was you’d choose both of them. You loved how sweet and friendly Kiri was, his bright smile and red locks always filling you up with warmth whenever you’d see him grazing or soaking up the sun in the mornings. But you also were attracted to Katsuki’s gruffness and how aggressive he got to anyone or anything that threatened his home. He once nearly pummeled a crooked investor who wanted to steal Aizawa’s farm from him, prompting the guy to never come back.

You couldn’t deny the butterflies they gave you whenever you’d see or hear those raspy, deep voices that filled your dreams every night. You knew you had a deep crush, but you weren’t sure if you wanted them to be with you completely.

That is, to breed you. You were the only heifer on the farm so it was quite intimidating and alienating to be the only female cow who wasn’t pregnant, didn’t have babies, or wasn’t with another cow or bull. Plus, you weren't even sure you wanted someone like Katsuki and Kiri. You’d prefer someone who wasn’t on every cow’s mind and perhaps in every cow’s pen at night.

That all changed the night Aizawa and Hizashi went out of town for the weekend. It was for their 7th-year anniversary and they would be gone until Monday morning. They told you all about it when they gathered the farm animals for a group meeting the beginning of that week during breakfast. “We’re going away!” Hizashi proudly announced. “To celebrate seven years of our amazing relationship!”

Aizawa blushed when his husband leaned his head on his shoulder, slipping an arm around his waist. “When we’re gone, every single one of you will be on your best behavior,” he sternly said. “I’ll keep the house locked up, but the farm will still be open for visits from the public. Anyone tries to break in, the bulls know what to do. Otherwise, just be good and don’t make a mess.”

Make a mess, the animals didn’t. But being good? That rule was never going to be respected.

After your owners left Friday night, Saturday night was as wild as one could get on a farm. A party was thrown in the barn house where music, dunking for apples, and drinking from the secret whiskey stash Aizawa stored away all took place. You initially didn’t want to go, but Mina talked you into it. “When are we ever gonna get a weekend where the farmers aren’t here?” she groaned. “C’mon, just for an hour!”

You begrudgingly agreed though an hour turned into about three insufferable ones. You sat in the dimly-lit barn on one of the hay bails as a stool, watching as Mina danced with Denki and drank her fill of beer. The party was still in full swing, noise and hollering of the animals all around you that made you very uncomfortable. You sat stiffly with your cow-like legs together, your human hands in your lap. You did have to admit that you looked nice in your flowery sundress that Mina forced you to wear. You were secretly hoping to run into Katsuki and Kiri tonight, but so far, you haven’t seen them.

You sighed, sipping on your iced tea mixed with a bit of whiskey. You wanted nothing more than to leave this place. “Hey, Y/N!” a faintly familiar voice shouted to you. You turned, finding Shindo waving at you as he made is way over to you on his powerful legs with a swing of his tail. He was one of the most beautiful horses you’ve ever seen with the finest black hair along his bottom half like on his head. His top half was just as pretty––nothing but lean muscle and the prettiest, green eyes you’ve ever seen.

But not as pretty as Katsuki and Kiri. “Oh, hey, Shindo,” you giggle. “I haven’t seen you all night.” Shindo's tail swayed giddily as he looked down at you. “The other horses and I were down by the lake to cool off,” he explains. “It’s a real nice night. You should come out with me for a walk.”

You blinked up at him, wondering if he was serious. “You’re asking me?” you questioned. No hybrid, especially a male, had ever asked to d anything with them before. “Yeah!” he laughed. “I was just goin’ down the trail to check out the apple trees and I don’t mind your company. Plus, you don’t seem like you’re enjoying the party too much. How come you aren’t dancing?” His smile grew, playfully so.

You flushed, toying with the hem of your sundress. “I don’t really dance in these types of settings,” you sheepishly laughed. “Too many drunk shenanigans.” As if on cue, one of the cows––that being Sero—flew down the staircase leading up to the upper floor, crashing into one of the wooden tables.

“Fair point,” Shindo chuckled. “C’mon, maybe we can get some before the drunk crowd does.” He put his hand out for yours, patiently waiting for your answer.

You looked down at his hand for a moment, weighing your options. What if someone saw you leave with him and got the wrong idea? What if Katsuki and Kiri saw? ‘Who cares what they think?’ your voice of reason hissed. ‘You’re not even mated to them! They probably don’t even know you exist!’

“Okay,” you finally giggled. “Why not?” You put you hand in Shindo’s and let him lead you away from the barn and into the summer night.

Once away from the barn, the night was quiet and peaceful. Only the buzz of insects, the hooting of a nearby owl, and your and Shindo’s hooves clicking across the path could be heard as you both walked along the dirt paths to the apple orchards, all planted by Hizashi. You often went here to relax and enjoy the quiet for a while on warm, sunny days. Shindo suddenly stopped and pointed at the dozens of apple trees in the twilight with the reddest, ripest apples hanging from their branches. “Here, they go!” He exclaims excitedly.

He skipped over to one of the trees and you followed, giggling. He stopped at one and picked an apple, immediately chomping into it. His eyes close, taken aback by the taste. “Mmm, that’s good. Grab one for yourself.”

You did so, walking up beside him to grab an apple. You bit into it immediately, loving the sound of your teeth chomping along the crisp, juicy flesh. “Wow, this is good,” you hummed. As you ate, the summer breeze caressed your skin and hair, making the apple trees sway. “And it is a nice night,” you sighed, closing your eyes against the breeze. You felt so good. So peaceful.

When you opened your eyes, you found Shindo starting at you. There was a strange, almost intimate look in them that you couldn’t quite make sense of. “You look beautiful tonight,” he commented. You snorted as a natural reaction, shaking your head at his words. “Really! But I’m sure your mate tells you that all of the time, right?”

As he flashed a white-toothed smile at you, our heart sank into your stomach. “Uh, no,” you confessed, looking down at your apple. “I-I don’t have a mate. I’m still a heifer.” Even saying it, you felt pathetic. While it was nothing to be ashamed about and you knew you didn’t want any kids right now, you looked around at so many of the girl cows on the farm and wanted what they had: a mate.

“Seriously?” Shindo asked, shocked. “How’s that possible? You’re so cute!” You flushed at his compliment, looking off into the night. “It just never happened, I guess.”

“So you’re not with that bull duo all the cows seem to love?” Shindo asked. The farm is sayin’ they’ve got a thing for you.” You stared at him, wide-eyed, your heart pummeling in your chest. “W-What?” you dumbly asked. There is no way that is true. It can’t be. Shindo shook his head, tossing the apple aside. “That’s too bad,” he tutted, “because I’ve got a thing for you, too. I’ve had it for a while now, to tell you the truth.”

Your eyes bugged out of your skull. “What?” you asked once again, louder this time. Shindo didn’t speak as he began to slowly walk toward you, a sensual look in his forest-green eyes. You began to walk backward, squeaking when you slammed against a tree. “Wait, Shindo…how would this even work? Y-You’re a horse!”

Shindo just laughed as he drew nearer to you, putting his big hands on your waist. “Interspecies relationships happen a lot around here,” he chuckled. “Didn’t you know?”

His fingers began to slowly slip down to your dress, creeping up above it to lie on your bare fur. “I can treat you way better than those bonehead bulls, Y/N,” he whispered. “You know it, deep down.” He began to lean in for a kiss and you put your hands out to stop him, laying them flat against his bare chest. “Wait, Shindo,” you protested. “I-I don’t even know you that well. We shouldn’t–“

“I think she’s telling you no, horse face,” a raspy, familiar voice growled from beyond the trees. Shindo stopped, glaring into the darkness.

Standing there at the end of the path was Katsuki, fists balled up at his sides and steam billowing from his nostrils like in a cartoon. You heart flipped at the sight of him. “You?” Shindo scoffed, smirking at him. “What, you saw me with her and decided to make a move? You’re just too slow, ‘Suki.”

“Wrong answer,” another raspy yet slightly higher voice said. From behind Katsuki outstepped Kiri, equally as intimidating with his long, red hair and crimson eyes. “We saw her with you, yes, but we’re not here to ‘make a move’. We’re here to stop you from takin’ advantage of this girl when she clearly isn’t interested and then ghosting her like you did to the horse girls on your old farm.” He tapped a finger against his chin, thinking. “And a few heifer girls too, if I’m not mistaken.”

Shindo visibly gulped, realizing he’d been caught, while you stare at him in awe and rage. Did he see you as just that? A poor, lonely heifer to take advantage of?

Katsuki stepped closer, his hooves stomping against the ground. “You need to leave her alone,” he growled. “Tonight and after tonight. If I catch you tryna make a move on her again, you better believe these hooves are goin’ straight into your head.” Shindo was visibly intimidated, but he still tried to play like he wasn’t. “Is that a threat?” he whispered.

Kiri stepped beside Katsuki, crossing his arms over his buff chest. “That's a promise, horse face,” Katsuki simmered. “Now get out of here unless you want me to fulfill that promise right now.” Shindo looked between them and you, weighing his options. Then, with a huff and a swish of his tail, he turned around and galloped up the trail back toward the barn.

You relaxed against the tree, glad to be away from him. “You alright, Y/N?” Kiri worriedly asked.

You immediately stood up straight, realizing you were here with the farm’s favorite bulls, alone, in the apple orchard. Other than that, you also realized that Kiri said you name. They know your name. You cleared your throat, recovering. “Yeah,” you exhaled, dusting off your dress. “Thanks, but I could’ve handled that myself.” The two chuckled, the deep rumble of their laughter making your stomach flip. “Never said you couldn’t,” Kiri replied.

“You ain’t the only cow girl he’s tried to hit on here, y’know,” Katsuki added as he ripped off an apple from a branch above him. “He’s known for being a player and with you being a heifer, that only made it worse.” He bit into the apple, taking a big chunk out of the juicy flesh. “You should be more careful. Farm or not, you’ve got some creeps lurking around here.”

Kiri elbowed him, stomping his hoof. “Don’t scare her, Katsuki,” he hissed before giving you a reassuring smile. “He’s just being dramatic, cutie. Only thing you need to worry about is not ruining that pretty dress of yours.” You flushed at his words, not used to receiving such compliments, whether blatantly flirtatious or not. “Well, we’ve taken up more of your night, so we’re gonna head off.”

They began to walk off up the path, passing by you as they did. “You’re going back to the party?” you blurted.

Kiri shook his head. “Nah, not our style. Plus, it’s too nice of a night to be cooped up in a barn.” They turned around and began to leave you again like none of tonight ever happened. You found yourself wanting them to stay for a while, especially after that scare with Shindo.

“W-Well, if you want, I was gonna take a walk down the trails here,” you shyly said, piquing their interest. “You two are welcomed to join me, if you want.”

The bulls turned toward you, looking shocked that you even said anything. But then they each cracked a smile that knocked the air out of you. “A walk, huh?” Kiri chuckled. “We happen to know about some other treats down there the way the others don’t know about. But you can’t tell anyone.”

You nodded, signaling your silence. “Then let’s quit standin’ here and go,” Katsuki growled, already making his way down the trail though he stopped to wait for you to catch up. The three of you then begin to walk along the dirt trail, taking your sweet time among the summer air. “So you came last spring, right?” Kiri asked. “What was your other farm like, if you don’t mind me asking?”

There, while walking through the apple orchard, you talk to each other. You tell them all about your old farm and its beautiful daisy fields until your owner passed from their disease. They told you all about their past too, sparing you any sad details. You also talked about other things you liked and enjoyed, like spending your past time swimming by the lake on the hottest days of the summer and playfully arguing over snow (Katsuki hated the cold). With every conversation topic, you felt yourself becoming more comfortable with them.

Finally, you three reached the fruit orchard that was blocked by a couple of thorn bushes. Kiri pushed back a couple bushes to clear a path for you, revealing dozens of trees and bushes carrying delicious fruit. “Aaand here we are,” he chuckled. You gasped, your eyes widening at the delicacies that surrounded you. You began to totter through the fruit orchard, ogling at the peaches, mulberries, and… “Blueberries bushes?!” you squealed, gaping at the two bulls who watched you in adoration.

“And strawberry ones too,” Kiri added, picking a ripe, red strawberry from a bush. All for the picking. Some of the others know about this place, but are too afraid to come down ‘cause it’s too close to the road.” He picked another strawberry and plopped it Help yourself, cutie.” Flushing again from the pet name and his fingers brushing against yours, you took the berry and bit out of it. As soon as the sweet juice hit your tongue, you were in heaven. “Good, isn’t it?” he snickered, watching you. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste, wondering how the strawberries got so sweet. “Mmm-hmm,” you hummed.

You turned to Katsuki as you chewed on the rest of the berry, finding him chomping on a handful of blueberries he picked. When he turned to you, you started giggle at the sight of blueberry juice all over his mouth. “What?” he growled.

Kiri began to laugh too, holding his stomach. “You’ve got some blueberry juice on your lip,” you giggled, pointing at your own mouth. Katsuki’s face turned a stark red as he went to wipe the juice off…but then he stopped. A crooked, mischievous smile suddenly pulled onto his lips. “Well, you gonna get it off for me?” he asked, obviously joking.

You didn’t know if it’s the full moon, the fruit, or the whiskey you drank earlier, but you were suddenly flooded with confidence that made you slowly walk over to him. His smile faded as you did, wondering what you were up to. You shocked both them and yourself when you reached out to slide your thumb across his lip and suck on the juice from the digit. Katsuki stared at you for a moment, silent. It was enough to make reality kick in for you.

“Sorry!” you gasped. “I-I don’t know why I did that! I-I…” You paused, feeling humiliating overcome you. “I…I need to leave.”

You began to turn around and quickly run up the trail, but Katsuki stopped you with a hand on your wrist. His eyes were fierce and intense like a raging, hot fire. “No,” he growled. “You finish what you fuckin’ started.” Before you could take a breath, he was yanking you toward him and pressing a rough, passionate kiss to your lips. His lips were soft and tasted sweet and tarty from the blueberries. One of his hands, rough from years of farm work, pressed against your cheek to deepen the kiss, the feeling of his touch making you dizzy.

You pulled away with a soft gasp when you suddenly felt Kiri push against you, feeling his muscles through his thin V-neck. His hands roamed over your hips while Katsuki busily kissed and sucked on your neck, no doubt trying to give you hickies. Your eyes fluttered at their ministrations, the feeling of them everywhere around you heaven.

“We didn’t wanna say anything after Shindo earlier, but we could never deny how cute you were,” Kiri whispered. His hands trailed up your arms to your spaghetti straps. He pulled one down to kiss your neck, his kisses sweet and less harsh than Katsuki’s. “We’ve wanted you for so long,” he groaned. “We always knew you were the one, but we never wanted to push you. If you want this, we’ll do anything you want from your command, sweetie.”

He paused his movements just as Katsuki did, his crimson eyes looking into yours. Neither one of them moved, wanting your permission before proceeding. The ball was completely in your court, and unbeknownst to them, you were ready to give them their winning score. You then turned your head to press your lips feverishly against Kiri’s, earning a moan of surprise. When you pulled away, his shocked eyes stared into yours, as gorgeous as the full moon above. “Yes,” you exhaled. “Take me. I want the both of you, too.”

Joyful smiles curled onto Kiri and Katsuki’s lips. Before you could even breathe, you were suddenly out of your dress, completely naked in the silver moonlight. For a while, the duo played with your breasts, kneeling down to suckle and lick against the hardened peaks of your nipples. You moaned and whimpered to the moon, only that, the stars, and the trees witness to your activity. You knew that eyes could be anywhere––from the passing cars on the street beyond the wooden fence; coming down the trail from the barn party––but you found yourself not caring. Truthfully, the idea of being caught with the hottest bull duo on the farm turned you on even more. Your fantasies got the best of you, and before you knew it, you were suddenly on your knees with Kiri and Katsuki standing over you. Both of them stripped off their shirts and pants, leaving themselves completely naked. Your eyes eagerly drank them in. You didn’t know where to look––at their gorgeous bodies illuminated by the moonlight or their big, fat, thick, veiny bull cocks hanging in front of you.

“Well?” Katsuki asked, raising a brow down at you. “You gonna put ‘em in your mouth or just stare at ‘em?” You didn’t need to be told twice. You started with Kiri’s cock first, popping him into your mouth while you eagerly stroked Katsuki, the pre-cum dripping down his cock making for some great lube. Then you switched, alternating between each of them with all the eagerness of a good little heifer slut despite how much your jaw ached. They were huge! However, the duo’s soft moans and grunts of pleasure egged you on, making you stroke a little harder and hollow your cheek out more.

Kiri adoringly stared down at you, watching you take Katsuki’s cock in your mouth. “You’re so cute, sweetie,” he breathlessly chuckled. “Look at you takin’ both of our cocks like a good little heifer girl.” Katsuki moaned in agreement, his crimson eyes blown with lust as he ogled down at you. “Bet you’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you?” he grunted. “Havin’ us all to yourself.”

His hips began to slowly rock into your mouth, causing his fur to brush against your face and his heavy balls to hit your chin. You moaned around his cock, your jaw and hand burning from the constant work you were doing.

“Mmmm!” you replied. That was code for “hell yes, I confess”.

To make it clear, you opened your throat for him, allowing him to thrust into your mouth a little deeper. When you felt his cock nearly hit the back of your throat, you gagged. He grunted loudly as one hand moved to grip your hair. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good!” he groaned. “I’ve thought about fucking it so many times.”

Kiri snickered as he began thrusting into your hand, wet and sloppy with saliva and pre. “So much for romance, but even I’ve thought about that too,” he breathlessly confessed. "Guilty as charged. And she looks way more beautiful in real life than in my dreams.” Katsuki suddenly pulled his cock out of your mouth with a moan, his shaft wet with your spit. You gasped and caught your breath, your body hot and pussy wet.

Kiri stooped down to press a kiss to your forehead, his hand caressing your sweaty cheek. ”Think you can take us deeper, cutie?” he asked. You slowly nodded, your head dizzy and slightly winded. Though your jaw ached, you didn’t want to stop. You wanted to please them. “One at a time, now. And let us know if you need a break or if you wanna stop. Just give us a tap.” The redhead hybrid demonstrated, tapping his own thigh three times.

Then Kiri was sticking his cock in your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. “Fuuuck,” he moaned, beginning to roll his hips into your hot, wet mouth. You gagged and sputtered around him, your pussy throbbing in time with his dick in your throat. “Mmm, like that,” he moaned. “So. Fucking. Good.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust that has your throat squeezing around him and your jaw begging for relief. Katsuki thankfully gave your hands a rest, opting for just jerking off to the sight of you taking Kiri.

Then Katsuki was next. His thrusts were rougher and faster as he fucked your throat, urging you to take him deeper down your throat until all you could taste and smell was him. “Yeah, just like that,” he urged, his grip on your hair tightening. “Deeper, sweet pea. Take me deeper!” You did so, whimpering as you expanded your throat as if to yawn to the best of your ability while he was still plunged in it. He looked down at you adoringly, the sight of it like a piece of heaven to you. “Good girl,” he moaned.

At this, you gushed all over yourself as you hugged your thighs tight against each other. Kiri noticed, stroking his cock to the sight of you on your knees with dick deep in your throat. “Ooooh, I think someone likes being called a good girl,” he chuckled. You suddenly felt his hand creep down between your thighs and moaned around Katsuki’s bull dick as they brushed against your sobbing, wet heifer pussy. “You’re leaking all over, cutie,” he tutted. “That just won’t do. All of that milk has to go somewhere.”

Katsuki took his cock out of your throat, ready for what was coming next. You took a deep breath and recovered, spit all over your mouth and chin. Kiri bent down to kiss you, never mind that you just had another cock in it. When he pulled away, a string of saliva connected to your bottom lips. “Can we taste you, cutie?” he whispered against your lips. “And we’ll take turns.” He smirked up at Katsuki who looked ready to devour you.

You slowly nodded, your body begging for release. “Y-Yes, please,” you weakly replied. In the blink of an eye, you were sitting with your back against Kiri’s chest and Katsuki’s face stuffed in your pussy, your furry legs hooked over his muscular back. “Fuck, Katsuki!” you cried out, not at all afraid if anyone or anything might hear. You wanted them to.

Katsuki hummed appreciatively as he slurped eagerly at your cunt, his long tongue sliding in and out of your tight hole. “There’s so much here for me, sweet pea,” he huffed. “You’ve been wantin’ this too, haven’t you? You wanted this big tongue fucking your pretty pussy?” He continued on, alternating between sliding his tongue inside of you and up to your clit, sucking on it generously. You whined and squirmed against his mouth, not knowing which way was up and which was down.

Kiri slid his hands to your chest, proceeding to pinch and tweak your hard nipples. “Answer him, cutie,” he teased. “You may look hot squirming around like that, but that ain’t an answer he wants.” He pinched one of your nipples a little too hard, causing sparks of pain and pleasure to mingle and shoot within you. “Yes!” You whimpered. “I thought about this! I wanted this for so long!”

Kiri smirked, pecking your lips. “Good answer,” he praised. “Make her cum, Kats. I want this cute little heifer seein’ stars.” Katsuki’s crimson eyes peeked through the V of your thighs as his tongue thrashed against your pussy, pushing you over the edge. Your back arched and your voice rang out in the orchard, into the night. ”Cum for me!” Katsuki demanded. "Cum all over my tongue. Do it now!”

And like a good little heifer, you did. Your first orgasm of the night ripped through you, waves of bliss washing over your body as you came all over Katsuki's eager lips and tongue. Finally, he drew back and hungrily stared at you, his mouth shining with your juices. "Now it’s my turn, Kiri announced.

The two switched so now Katsuki was behind you while Kiri eagerly ate your sensitive cunt, moving at a slower pace than Katsuki due to you just cumming. But you didn’t need it slow. You needed it faster. You needed to get to that second climax. “Faster!” you begged. “Please, Kiri, go faster!” The redhead obliged, moaning appreciatively into your pussy as his jaw worked like it was overtime. Your hand threaded through his red locks while the other gripped his shoulder, moans and whines of pleasure dripping from your lips.

From above you, Katsuki suddenly moved to your side so the tip of his angry, red cocked was now at eye-level with yours. “Look at what you’re doin’ to me,” he growled as pre dripped from the head. “Just from that voice and this body.”

You didn't reply. You only leaned in and latched your lips onto his cock, sucking on the head. The blonde chuckled and stood on his hips for a better angle, beginning to rock his hips into your mouth. “You need more?” he cackled. “Such a little slut behind all that sweetness. Make her cum, Kiri. I wanna feel how tight her throat can get when she’s gushin’ all over your face.”

The moon shone in Kiri’s eyes as he looked up at Katsuki mischievously. “Mmm, my pleasure,” he purred. “You can cum for me again, can’t you, cutie?” He dove back in, his tongue fucking your hole until you were squealing around Katsuki’s cock. “Tell us more about how much you wanted this,” he demanded. “Tell us all about that dirty mind of yours.”

You were more than happy to. You wanted them to know all about the nights you’ve spent touching yourself in your pen, dreaming about them in your bed with you. Katsuki’s cock popped out of your mouth as you felt your orgasm beginning to peak. “I-I’ve wanted to touch you,” you moaned. “Wanted to taste you…wanted to feel both of you.”

You gasped as your second orgasm flooded through you, Kiri still eagerly licking your pussy and his hands gripping your hips. It was all so good. All too much. “I’ve wanted you to touch me too!” you babbled, delirious from the pleasure as your orgasm rocked you. “Taste me…breed me!” As soon as the words flew out of your mouth, you covered your mouth. Kiri stopped licking you and Katsuki paused from stroking his cock, both of them staring at you in awe.’Oh, shit,’ you thought, panicking. ‘What did you just say?’

“You…have?” Katsuki carefully asked, his brows furrowing at you in an effort to make sense of your words. You felt embarrassment flood inside of you, replacing the satisfaction and bliss of your two orgasms. “I…I…” You didn’t know what to say anymore. You were scared to even speak in fear of saying the wrong thing and scaring them off.

Kiri sat up between your thighs, stroking your stomach comfortingly. “It’s okay if it’s just a fantasy, sweetie,” he soothingly said. “We’re not judging. But if that’s something you want, you know that we’ll therefore be your mates.” Katsuki nodded, his fingers in your hair. “No other male could touch you,” he added, a fierceness in his eyes. “And we wouldn’t let ‘em.”

“Unless you decided we didn’t work out,” Kiri quickly added to not make you feel uncomfortable. “But even then, you’d still have our kids. Would you be okay with that?” The both stared at you expectantly, patiently waiting for your answer.

You were silent, your head spinning. Did you want that? Sure, the idea of being filled with their cum and their babies turned you on, but it was just that: a fantasy. Something that turned you on. You wanted to have children one day and finally graduate from your heifer status. You also wanted these two to be the ones to do it. But you had to be rational about this. There would be time for that later. “Maybe we’re moving too fast,” you admitted, still feeling foolish for actually craving this. “I want to get to know you two more.”

They both nodded though still gave you that eager look like they wanted you to say something more. You sat up to take their hands in both of yours. “But,” you continued, your voice breathless and airy, “maybe we can play pretend? And maybe I can still be your mate without the babies?” You peered up at them through your lashes, hoping they’d agree.

Their smiles were all you needed to let you know that your proposition was a definite hell yes. “I don’t see why not,” Kiri replied. “Whatever makes you comfortable, cutie.” You grinned happily, your heart soaring. Katsuki rolled his eyes, exasperated and extremely horny. “God, can we stop talking and just get to fucking her brains out?” he growled.

Before Kiri could respond, the blonde was helping you onto your knees, coaxing you into all fours. “I’m goin’ first since you were too slow,” he grumbled. Kiri just laughed, letting him take the lead. Your body trembled as Katsuki situated himself behind you, his big body nearly covering yourself. His hands gripped your hips while his cock pressed against your entrance that was dripping with anticipation down your thighs. He felt big even now. You knew it was going to be a stretch to take him.

Ready, sweet pea?” he asked, his gruff voice making you tremble. You nodded, biting down on your lower lip. “Let me know if it’s too much.” Then his cock was sliding inside of you, but just the head at first. Your mouth fell open on a gasp as you felt your pussy stretch around his girth. Thank God for those two orgasms. Katsuki didn’t move. He stayed completely still, waiting for you to give him permission to continue. After a few minutes of slow breaths and readjusting, you felt comfortable enough to take more of him. “I’m okay,” you squeaked. “Go ahead.”

He slid inside of you, inch after inch of bull cock filling your pussy to the brim. You had never felt so full before. It was an indescribable feeling, especially when he began to finally fuck you hard, rough, and fast the way you craved. The harder his hips slammed into you, the more your pussy gripped him. You were a moaning mess, your voice loud and your breasts jiggling as Katsuki pounded into you from behind. “Harder, ‘Suki, please!” you sobbed. “Fuck me harder!”

Kiri paused for a few beats, wondering if you were serious or real. “Don’t keep her waiting, Kats,” Kiri chuckled, his cock sitting against your lips. “Give her what she wants.” And the blonde did so. He gripped your hips for dear life, propped a leg up, and plunged his bull cock deeper into your soaking, tight walls that squeezed him tighter than a vice. “Such a good girl,” he grunted. “Takin’ this big, fat bull dick like this. Bet you’ve been thinking about me fuckin’ you.”

You sucked him in deeper and deeper, causing his cock to glide against your G-spot. You wailed to the skies above, in love with his cock. “Fuck, Katsuki!” you loudly sobbed. “Keep going! Don’t stop!” Kiri chuckled from in front of you, his wet cock sliding against your lips. “You’ve got another big, fat bull dick to take care of, cutie,” he chuckled. “Open your mouth for me.”

You did so, allowing his cock inside of your mouth. The two then began fucking you at the same time, thrusting into your tight holes in unison that had your body shaking and your mind going blank. Your pussy continued to squelch and clench around Katsuki’s cock, his balls slapping against your clit that was just about to explode. You moaned around Kiri’s cock and popped your mouth off of him, panting heavily.

“’S-Suki,” you warned, “I’m gonna…gonna…”

“Me too, darlin’,” he groaned. “Your tight little pussy is gonna make me cum.” He then reached over your shoulder to take your chin into his hand, his thumb swiping against your bottom lip.“You gonna take it?” he snarled in your ear. “You gonna take all this cum deep in your cunt like my good little heifer? You want me to make you a mommy?”

“Yes, Katsuki, please!” you screamed as your orgasm grew nearer. “I’ll take it all! All of it for you!”

It didn’t take long for you to finally burst around his cock the way you needed to. You came with a long, loud moan that tears out of you as your third orgasm washed over you. The moment your pussy clenched around Katsuki’s cock was the moment he came too. He gripped your hips and swore to the heavens before he pulled out of your inviting, wet pussy. Only lewd sounds of his fist furiously pumping his wet cock were heard before a loud groan left his lips. “Fuck!” he bellowed as he finally burst all over your ass, coating your fur in his cum.

“Wooow,” he drew out, laughing. “That’s a lot of cum, Kats! I think you ruined her!” “Think you can take me too, sweetie?” he softly asked. Weakly, you nodded, wanting him too. “Good girl,” he praised. “Just get on your back for me.”

He then swung your legs over his broad shoulders and proceeded to slide his big, fat, hard bull cock inside of you, taking his sweet time and focusing on your body’s responses to him. “Gonna take you just like this,” he huffed as he began to thrust his hips forward, stroking your insides with his cock. “This is okay, sweetie? You still feelin’ good?”

All you could do was moan, whimper, and sob at the pleasure, too far gone to form words. “If you ain’t gonna use that mouth to speak, you could use it for something else.” You understood immediately and weakly opened your mouth, allowing him to use it as a personal fleshlight. “Atta girl,” Kiri praised as you sucked on Katsuki’s thick cockhead. “Such a good little heifer, aren’t you?”

You were. You were their good little heifer. You wanted to show them that more than anything, so you continued to hollow your cheeks to tighten your mouth around Katsuki’s cock and lifted your hips to meet Kiri's thrusts, brushing your clit against his pelvis. It didn't take long for your fourth (count ‘em; four) orgasm rose to the surface, threatening to spill over you.

You whined and whimpered around Katsuki’s thick cock, causing Kiri to plunge his cock inside of you a little bit faster. Katsuki leaned down, popping his cock out of your mouth. “You want Kiri to cum in you too?” he asked. “You want him to fill that tight pussy with his babies?”

You practically sobbed as your orgasm hit you, causing you to cum all over Kiri’s cock without giving you a chance to warn him first. “Please!” you cried out. “Please, please, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but Kiri continued his pace, moaning into the breeze as he chased his orgasm too.

Katsuki hummed appreciatively for your climax, stroking your hair out of your face. “And after he's done, you’re gonna walk around with our cum deep inside you,” he murmured to you, taking you deeper into this breeding fantasy. "And then in a few months, you’ll be all nice and big with our kids.” His lips pressed to your ear, kissing you below your earlobe. “You’ll officially be ours,” he whispered.

Kiri panted heavily from between your thighs, his cock swelling and throbbing inside of you, about to erupt. “Fuck, that’s so hot!” he groaned. “I’m gonna cum! S-so hard!”

Whines and moans left his pretty lips as his orgasm finally peaked. You almost were sure he’d cum inside of you until he quickly pulled himself out of you and pumped his nut all over your body. You weakly moaned as you felt his hot cum splash onto your stomach and titties, coating you completely in his scent.

Your eyes fluttered closed out of exhaustion and bliss, soft pants leaving your lips. For a moment, you thought of all of that cum inside of you, both Katsuki and Kiri’s seed mingling together in your womb until you were completely full with their babies.

‘Maybe some day,’ you thought, and you believed it. It was impossible not to think you could have some sort of future together, especially when the two began to clean you up. They could only use their shirts to sob the cum off your body, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

Afterwards, they both laid down on either side of you on the grass, trapping you between their big bodies. You laid your head on Katsuki's chest while your back pressed into Kiri's front. You were spooned from both sides, totally warm and comfortable. For a while, you just laid there in silence, enjoying the afterglow and the sound of crickets in the night. “That was amazing,” you finally sighed.

Katsuki nodded, his big chest rising and falling as his breathing evened out. “Mmm, you definitely were,” he hummed. You felt his big arm cradle your neck, his hand lazily playing with your hair. “We can't wait to have you again…and again…and again.”

He leaned down to peck your lips, slightly sucking on your bottom lip as he pulled away. “Because now you’re yours, sweet pea,” he whispered in your ear. “We’re never gonna let you go now.” His words made your pussy clench excitedly around air, wanting desperately to have all of those “agains” and loving the feeling of being theirs. And them being yours. You were even happier to know that tonight wasn't a one time thing––this was a sure thing.

Kiri pressed his lips to your shoulder, using one arm to prop himself up to look down at you. “How ‘bout we all go down to the lake for a dip?” he suggested with a smile. “After a good cuddle under the stars, of course. Just look at this sky!”

He nodded up at the inky black canvas above you that was coated in twinkling stars. “Wow,” you whispered, in awe at the beauty. A happy, content feeling twirled in your gut as you laid with the bull duo, arms and legs entangled.

You stared at the sky for who knows how long until the sounds of the crickets and swaying trees began to get you. Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt Katsuki and Kiri both press their lips to your cheeks. Kisses goodnight.

“Rest now, mate,” Kiri murmured to you, his muscular arms wrapping around your waist. “We’ve got you now.”

You drifted off with a smile.

THE END.

#bnha smut #smutty smut #black fanfic writer #my works #my fic shit #my one shots #request fill #bakugou x fem!reader #poly kiribaku #kirishima x fem!reader #bull bakugou #bull kirishima #requests

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