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hoonjayke · 18 days ago

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Sim Jaeyun — TOO FAST TOO BAD

Jake is known as the city’s famous drift king, a legend in the illegal street racing world, completely untouchable and invincible. However, when you're assigned to work undercover as a racer for an investigation, you don't expect that getting involved with Jake would mess with your morals and most importantly, your heart.

PAIRING: — Street Racer Jake x Cop Reader (f)

GENRE: fluff, a bit of angst, super suggestive, smut, slow burn, illegal street racing au (inspired by fast and furious)

WARNINGS: lots of heavy making out (pool, car, bedroom, bathroom) yeah they're freaky, a bit of dirty talking, petnames, skinship, small slow burn, mentions of alcohol, guns and drugs, fighting, a little bit of cursing, morally grey characters, mentions of death, etc. Jake is blonde from the beginning till half of the story. Enhypen OT7 + one oc for the plot.

WC: 23k — masterlist - perm taglist

— Author Note: Guys I know this is long but it's totally worth it, I swearrr. I've been thinking about writing this for a long time and it's finally hereee, so I'm really happy. Hope you guys like it ♡

The tire tracks on the asphalt formed a random pattern that not even forensics could figure out how many cars had passed by. The smell of gasoline was as natural as the dew that night.

As the loud music contrasted with the sound of laughter from the countless people there, you mingled through the crowd with your arms crossed, trying to get a better view of the 4 cars positioned in the middle of the track. Your low-waisted jeans bothered you as you felt the wind hit the small skin patch on your back.

“It's the king!” One person shouted and the crowd began to make room for a red convertible to pass and park next to the 4 positioned cars. “Make room for the king to pass.”

The applause and cheers were deafening as Jake stepped out of the car. His bleached hair shone in the streetlights and his smile was almost mesmerizing. He had an aura that was noticeable from afar, no one there could take their eyes off him.

He was leaning against his car with a tall man beside him.

“If the king is present today, then it will be a good race.” A girl next to you commented and you looked at her trying to get more information about that environment “Who's this king? Can he drive?” You asked and she looked at you with a look of shock, as if the question was absurd “If he can drive?” She scoffed “Do you know what DK stands for?” You shook your head and she looked back at Jake. He looked eager to see tonight’s competitors. “It means Drift King. Besides being an incredible racer, he is also the best at drifting.”

You somehow knew he was a key player in all of this, but apparently, he was much more respected than you expected. He clearly is the leader who brought people together there.

“How can I meet him?” The girl gave a sarcastic laugh, shaking her head negatively. “No one can get close to him like that, only the best racers.” She looked into your eyes and whispered “That is, if you fall into his good graces.”

You remained silent, watching as the sound of the car engines warming up shook the environment. A few guys seemed to be trying to get Jake's attention, some with explicit flattery and others with fearful comments disguised as compliments. He remained unfazed, looking through the crowd as if nothing could shake his inner peace.

“Alright, the race is about to start.” A young boy with a few piercings in his ears stood in the middle of the cars talking about how it would all work. “Rules are simple, entry is 2 grand in cash and winner takes all.” The racers looked at each other through the open windows of the cars and Jake smirked at the tension in the air.

“Ready, set,” the boy yelled, “Go!” He lowered the flags and the crowd went wild with the sound of the cars speeding away. Your eyes lit up as you saw how the whole scene seemed to fit together. The loud music, the night lights casting shadows that nicely adorned the custom cars, and the smell of burning tires.

As the race went on, you watched Jake's face from afar. He seemed to have everything under control with a melancholic look as he watched the cars turn at exorbitant speeds.

You weren't used to this environment. It was different from anything you had ever seen or experienced in your life, which increased your curiosity. You were starting to realize why these races would attract so many people's attention. The customized cars, the adrenaline of the races, and the smell of nitrous oxide were somehow fun.

As they crossed the finish line, the people there cheered as they saw the winner get out of his car. He gave Jake an expectant look as if he wanted recognition. Jake just smiled and without saying a single word turned to get into his car and leave.

You walked away from the crowd and left the place thinking how this is going to be more challenging than you thought.

☆

“Congrats on your promotion.” Jay approached you with that gentle smile that only he knew how to give “I'm glad we can work together in this case.”

You smiled and bumped his closed fist “Yeah, me too.” He sat down next to you at the huge conference room table. Your boss, who was already seated, silently looked at you both before turning on the computer and starting the meeting.

“Finally, we can start the meeting.” Your superior cleared his throat and turned on the slides. “As you know, the new drug in circulation is causing many problems like sudden deaths in young people in their 20s, but the only clue we have about the culprit is in the middle of these illegal races.”

A photo of the places in the city where the races would probably take place appeared on the screen. “Our informant got the information that there are probably some drug dealers from the creator of this drug in the middle of the races. If we capture at least one of his drug dealers, we can get to the culprit.” He looked at you. “What were your impressions of the place?”

You sighed “The easiest way to infiltrate and talk to the people there is to gain the trust of their leader.” Your boss and Jay paid attention to what you said “He is the most respected by people there. He is tough and is not impressed by ass-kissers, so I need to make a good impression.”

“How do you intend to gain his trust?” You gave your boss a side smile. “I have some ideas but I need you to cooperate with me.”

“Are you sure about this?” Jay looked at you worriedly “I think it’s too risky.” You leaned back in your chair “I trained for this, you don’t need to worry.”

Your superior nodded his head and sighed “What do you need?”

“I pick the car and I do things my way.” You leaned across the table and smiled. “To catch a king’s attention, you have to be the perfect entertainment.”

Your boss smiled in satisfaction. “Great. You start on Monday at your new apartment and job. Jay will cover for you during the week with whatever you need.” He stood up from the table before looking at the two of you. “Be careful.”

Jay looked at you and gave you a confident smile “C'mon my favorite racer.” You smiled, standing up with him patting his back “Let's go find a stupid dealer.”

The night seemed as exciting as all the others, but for some unknown reason, Jake felt that tonight's race would be different. He stood on the hood of the car watching the crowd approach the cars while drinking an energy drink to wake himself up. He was tired from the work he had in the car workshop earlier, but he wasn't going to sleep early.

“What are you thinking about?” Sunghoon walked over with his hands in his pockets “You’re quieter than usual.”

Jake smiled and swallowed the rest of the energy drink he had in his hand. “I was thinking about how I want to see an exciting race today.” He looked at Sunghoon. “I don’t wanna see a race that makes me regret not going home to sleep.”

Sunghoon chuckled and sat down next to Jake “Let’s watch and find out then.” He looked ahead to see more cars arriving at the scene. “But it looks like we’ll have some interesting things today.”

From afar, some familiar convertibles arrived, but one car in particular caught their attention.

A pink Toyota Supra MK4 arrived in the middle of the crowd, making everyone look at the car that had a red fireworks design on the sides. The men whistled in awe of the machine and the girls seemed excited to see that the driver was a woman.

When the door opened, you stepped out of the vehicle as if you were used to it. Jake looked at you from afar and gave you a mischievous smile “Who's that?” He asked biting his lower lip, analyzing you from top to bottom. Your denim skirt with some chains, your long black boots, and the tight pink blouse that adorned your beautiful body.

Sunghoon smirked “I have no idea, but I want to know.” He and Jake looked at each other before getting up from the car and approaching the place where you were talking to a racer.

'hey baby, wanna see my car?' 'let me see what your front can do pretty.' A few men around cat called you, but you just ignored them rolling your eyes and focused on showing a confident posture. You knew you had to focus on your mission and the first step is to make an iconic entrance and gain trust from the drivers.

“Damn babe, what a machine.” A boy who clearly looked younger than you approached your car looking at all the details “Wanna show what you got in there?” He pointed to the hood of your car and you approached him with your arms crossed.

“Not yet.” You smiled and the boy ran his hand through his hair “ C'mon, don't play hard with me.” He pointed to his car “I can show you mine.” You slightly turned your head to the side thinking of his proposition and he smiled “I'm Ni-ki by the way.” He held out his hand and you shook it gently “I'm Y/N.”

You smiled before bending down slightly to open the hood of your car. Jake watched the interaction (and your thighs) with curious eyes.

“Since you are so curious, here.” You showed the engine of your car and Ni-ki approached, narrowing his eyes “You're kidding me.” He widened his eyes in shock “You got a cool-air intake, NOS-fogger system and a T-Four Turbo with nitrous injection?!” You nodded and he gave you an airy laugh “That's crazy shit.” He suspiciously looked at you “Wanted to keep this a secret for the race, huh?”

You smiled and closed the car hood before sitting on top of it. “Exactly.”

Your little interaction were interrupted by the crowd greeting Jake and Sunghoon who approached you.

“What's up Ni-ki.” Jake fist-bumped Ni-ki “Sup king, gonna race tonight?” He shook his head and turned to you “Nah, today I want to see the new talents.”

You smiled at Jake who was staring at you shamelessly “You're new here.” He spoke to you and you rejoiced internally knowing that you managed to get his attention “I am, and you're the famous king I've heard of.”

The people around cheered and Jake walked over to stand in front of you “Didn't know I was famous.” His deep voice answered you and you stood up again “You are.” You crossed your arms and looked at him smiling “I was kinda hoping you would race tonight, that's sad tho.”

Jake ran his hand through his blond hair with a smile. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I want to see the newbies today.”

You nodded your head “That's good, because I'm racing tonight.” Sunghoon smiled and spoke to you “So you wanna race.” “Yeah.” He looked at Jake and smiled . “Since it's your first time here I should tell you the rules.”

His gaze was attentive and Sunghoon pulled a wad of money from his pocket. “You need to pay if you want a chance to run in our race.”

“How much?” Jake twirled the ring on his finger as he looked at you curiously “2 grand in cash. This or nothing.” He held out his hand and you stared at the tall man’s hand in front of you.

“Can I offer something better?” You asked and Sunghoon’s eyebrows arched “It depends on what it is, newbie.” He checked you out “What you got in mind?”

“Here's the deal, if I lose winner takes my car, clean and clear. But if I win,” You turned to Jake and smiled “I take the cash and I take the respect.”

Jake approached you, looking into your eyes, and shot a smile that could blind anyone nearby “You want my respect?” People around laughed “For some people that's all that matters.” He smiled in surprise at your response, clearly enjoying the conversation.

You stared at each other for a few seconds and Jake looked at Sunghoon with satisfaction in his eyes “Let her race.” He walked to his best friend’s side before turning to look at you one last time “Wanna see what this newbie has to show us.”

You smiled and Ni-ki whispered beside you “You're crazy. If you lose your car, you're gonna lose more than just 2 grand.” You turned around to Ni-ki “Then I just need to win.” Your gaze followed Jake and Sunghoon before he went to get in his car for the race that night.

☆

All 4 cars lined up on the track and your car was the first in line. On your right side was Ni-ki with his car, and then two more cars with a girl and another boy you hadn't met yet.

You looked to your left and saw Jake looking at you with an enigmatic smile.

Now would be the moment when you needed to put into practice everything you had trained. You knew you were a good driver because you’d already done many police chases, but this was different. You had to focus on everything at the same time and calculate the exact moment to overtake the other cars.

You started the car and pressed the clutch and brake holding the car in place. The volume of the cars engine along with the tires was so loud that you could barely hear the girl who was between the 4 cars.

When the flags lowered, you released the brake and accelerated with everything you had. The sprint the car made in seconds made you remember why you trained so hard for this, the adrenaline was indescribable. Ni-ki came out first and you soon after him. The other 2 cars stayed behind you two while the crowd went crazy.

You increased the speed and pressed the clutch, putting the car in 4th gear, while turning the car to the right slightly, blocking the girl who wanted to overtake you at all costs.

Ni-ki was the first to use nitrous oxide (NOS), creating a larger space between the two of you. “Too soon, boy.” You laughed before accelerating and putting it into 5th gear. Ni-ki looked in the rearview mirror and saw that you were approaching faster than he expected and he needed to save the last boost of NOS for the end of the race. “Shit.”

Jake was having fun as he watched the race from afar “She’s good.” He commented and Sunghoon let out a small laugh “Indeed.”

You pressed a button on your steering wheel and activated the NOS, passing by Ni-ki, giving a smile to the boy who frowned. “Sorry, gotta take the lead.”

When you turned around the cone that was positioned at the end of the street, you pressed the clutch downshifting and turned using the handbrake, not letting the power drop too much and slid smoothly, giving a slight drift before accelerating with everything. When you looked at your rearview you saw that Ni-ki wasn't going to give you a break.

The front of Ni-ki's car almost touched yours before you swerved slightly and you saw him smiling in the rearview mirror. "I need to end this kid now.”

His car caught up to you and you were side by side. Before he could retake the lead, you activated the last of your car's NOS and accelerated with everything you had. In a surprise, you saw the car of the boy who was in last place pass Ni-ki and almost catch you.

Ni-ki saw that the one who had passed him was Jungwon, so he decided that either he used his NOS at that moment, or he would not even have a chance of being 2nd place. Jungwon blocked both sides, not giving Ni-ki an opening, moving the car in a zigzag that irritated the boy. “Man, I hate when Jungwon pulls shit like this.” He decided to accelerate slightly to the right and push Jungwon's car to the left, hitting the right taillight of his car.

Jungwon got angry and pressed the accelerator, but Ni-ki was still pressing his side and used the last NOS boost to retake 2nd place. You, who were approaching the finish line, saw that Ni-ki started to hit the back of your car to slow you down and you blocked his view and stepped on the accelerator, making your back stick to the seat behind you and your hair fly back with the wind and the adrenaline hitting you.

Ni-ki managed to stay by your side again with a smile, but before he could celebrate you threw your car against his, making him brake slightly and you passed the finish line by seconds. You slowed down and braked until the car stopped completely and the crowd covered your car with applause and whistles.

Ni-ki arrived right after you, followed by Jungwon and the other girl last.

Your heart was racing with adrenaline, but you smiled happily at the victory. You got out of the car, greeting some girls who were celebrating around you as Jake crossed the crowd, clapping slowly with a look of satisfaction that let you know that you had done a good job there.

“You did it. Congrats on your victory.” He smiled and took the wad of money from Sunghoon and threw it into your hands. “You got the cash.”

You held the money thinking about how you’d never made so much money in such a short period of time “What about your respect?” Jake looked into your eyes that shone with a kind of anticipation that he found adorable. “That too.” He held out his hand and smiled. You shook Jake’s hand, feeling the calluses on his large palm. The way he looked at your orbits disconcerted you as if he could see right into you.

“That was crazy.” Ni-ki spoke to you, drawing your attention and making Jake let go of your hand. “Can't believe you hit me with your car.” You smiled before seeing the 2nd and 3rd place finishers arrive “Learned that from you.”

“Look who's talking.” Jungwon scoffed “You destroyed the taillight of my car.” Ni-ki laughed, scratching the back of his head “We do what we gotta do to win.”

“I agree.” You answered and saw Jake next to you, running his index finger across his mouth as if he wanted to say something important “Now tell me babe, that drift on the way back.” He looked at you “Where did you learn that?”

You knew that not everyone drifted because it was too risky, not to mention that it wore out the tires more and could make the car lose control. However, in one lap you gained an absurd amount of time. Your maneuvers had been practiced before, but the fact that you'd driven under pressure several times because of work was the best weapon you could have.

“I've got my secrets, you know.” You smiled seeing Jake amused by your reaction “I see… you're the mysterious type.” He leaned on the hood of your car looking at you “I like it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up slightly at Jake’s validation. Not that you needed it, but it was strange how his voice alone could change the vibe of the place.

As other cars arrived for owners to compare the best engines and the crowd began to disperse slightly, Jake spoke to you again “You know newbie, we're having a small gathering at Sunghoon's place right now.” He kept looking at you “You're welcome to come.”

Your smile was instantaneous “Sure, I'd love to.” He nodded his head “I'll lead the path, you can follow me.” he gave you one last look and smirked “That is, if you can keep up with me.” You air laughed “Of course.”

“I’ll hitch a ride with you guys, wait for me.” Ni-ki said excitedly going to his car “Me too, man.” Jungwon agreed and you smiled getting into your car. Now you were going to follow Jake and for the first time you could see him driving. Even if it wasn't in a race, you wanted to see the vibe of the famous king of the streets.

Jake got into his gray Nissan Skyline GTR R34. The two blue stripes adorned the front of the car and he rolled down the windows to look around to see who would be following him. He placed his right hand on the steering wheel and leaned his left arm on the window as he waited for people to make way for him to get out. As he accelerated, the wind made the blond strands of his bangs show off his forehead beautifully.

You couldn't deny it, Jake's vibe was priceless. It was much cooler than you expected, and way hotter too.

When you arrived at Sunghoon's house, there were already a few cars parked there, all customized. You parked next to Jake and got out of the vehicle, seeing Ni-ki and Jungwon also park.

Sunghoon's house looked big, not in a huge way, but a kind of house that looked comfortable. Jake locked his car and walked towards you with a smile. You analyzed his outfit, the black leather jacket adorning his beautiful shoulders along with the white blouse that perfectly highlighted his chest and abdomen. His gray jeans matched your skirt, making you wonder why you had this sudden association.

“C'mon newbie. I want you to meet a few people.” Jake snapped you out of your thoughts “Sure.”

“Hey, we're here too.” Niki said and Jungwon laughed “You're such an attention seeker.” Ni-ki nudged him “I want the VIP treatment too.”

“When you do a drift like she did I'll make sure to treat you well, Ni-ki.” Jake turned to the boy as they walked up the small stairs to the front of the house.

“HEY! That's a promise king!!!” The boy smiled as he took off the coat he was wearing “I'll make sure you remember this later.”

Jake rolled his eyes and you smiled. He looked at you curiously “Having fun, newbie?” The way his eyes always look right into your orbits makes you a little bit nervous “Yeah.”

“That's good.” He smiled and you entered the house seeing that there were more people there than you expected. “Small gathering, huh?” Jake was amused by your sarcastic tone “This is small for us.” He lowered his head so he could speak in your ear “I just realized I don't know your name yet.” His sweet voice blowing in your ear was like a cocktail you sip when you want to relax.

“I'm Y/N.” You replied, turning your face away, realizing he was closer than you expected. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He smiled “You can call me Jake.”

Jake. His name was Jake. It suited him.

“Hey Jake, Heeseung was looking for you.” Sunghoon called Jake interrupting their little interaction “Where is he?” Jake, you, Ni-ki and Jungwon walked through the crowd following Sunghoon until they saw a boy at the back of the house hugging a girl on the side while drinking a beer and laughing at something another guy next to him was saying.

“Heeseung.” Jake smiled and reached out to grab Hesseung's hand, pulling him into a light one-armed hug. “Sup Jake my king.” Heeseung's eyes checked you out “And who's this?” He smiled as if you were an interesting novelty.

“The newbie that won the race today.” Jake replied by putting his arm around your shoulders. The scent of Jake’s cologne invaded your senses “It was really surprising.”

“She won one race and you already invited her to our space?” Heeseung's tone had a hint of criticism mixed with interest “That must have been a hell of a race.”

“Yeah, it was. Gotta respect the newbie.” Sunghoon commented enthusiastically and you gave Heeseung a sarcastic smile “Next time you can watch me race and draw your own conclusions.”

The boys around laughed and Heeseung smirked “Yeah, I'll definitely come.” He held out his hand and you shook it “I'm Heeseung, you can count on me if you need any urgent repairs.” He said obviously looking at your legs as if there wasn't a girl next to him glaring at him “I'm Y/N.” You let go of the boy's hand and Jake turned you to introduce the other boys.

“You’ve already met Ni-ki ” He smiled with a wink that amused you “This is Sunghoon, he’s like my brother and helps organize the races.” The tall boy smiled taking your hand “Yeah, I figured it.”

“This is Jihoon.” Jake pointed to the boy next to Heeseung who seemed quiet and gave you a shy smile.

“This is Jungwon. He was our last newbie before you.” Jungwon smiled gently, “Hey.” His soft voice contrasting with his strong personality from the race amused you “You were amazing back there.” You gave Ni-ki a quick glance “I almost thought you were going to take 2nd place from Ni-ki.”

“Hey, I wouldn't let him take my place that easily.” Ni-ki defended himself and Jungwon sighed “Yeah, now I have to repair my car.”

“Tell me about it.” You smiled. “I’ll have to use the money I earned to repair the front of my car that hit Ni-ki’s car.”

“You can come to my garage, we repair our cars there.” Jake said making you think that was actually a great idea.

“Alright.” You gave a small smile before Jake’s phone rang and he looked at the screen and gentle smiled as his eyes softened “I have to get this, I’ll be right back.” As you watched him walk away to a quieter spot, Sunghoon offered you a drink “For you, the winner of the night.”

You knew drinking and driving wasn't good, but under these circumstances it would be suspicious if you didn't accept it. "Thanks." You took the bottle and clinked it with the other boys there.

As the loud music played, in the meantime you noticed that Jihoon didn't say much and just watched you with a strange look that you pretended not to notice. The boy soon left while you talked with Sunghoon, Ni-ki, Jungwon and Heeseung.

While you were talking, you discovered that Jungwon was the son of the owner of the auto parts store you were hired to work at, blowing everyone's minds. You also observed the movement around you, trying to see if you could find any clues or something suspicious, but most of it was just young adults drinking, talking, and flirting with each other.

“I'm going to the bathroom." You excused yourself and looked at everything. Nothing suspicious for now.

☆

After Jake hung up the phone he grabbed a drink and walked around the house greeting people, but he bumped into you coming out of the bathroom making him grab your shoulders. “Oh- sorry babe, I didn't see ya.” He smiled and you nodded “Okay.”

He gave you a mysterious look, noticing that you looked a little tired. “Do you want to go somewhere more private?” You looked at him in surprise and he smiled, putting his hands in his pocket. “I think you need some air.”

“Sure.” You smiled, following him to the balcony of Sunghoon’s house.

Sitting on the bench outside, the music from inside the house was muffled and you observed that Jake seemed calm. At the moment you decided you would enjoy any kind of interaction you had with him.

“So, are you enjoying the party?” He asked, looking at your features “Yeah, everyone is super nice and the drinks are good.” You took a sip of your drink, feeling a little sleepy since it was already past midnight.

“They are.” Jake sighed “Our races only work because everyone helps in their own way, you know?” You nodded and looked at him “And when will I see you race?” Jake smiled sideways, running his hand through his blond locks “Soon.” His eyes remained on yours “I’m missing making some people eat dust.” You laughed, clinking your bottles in a toast “Yeah, I get that.”

During the conversation, a part of you realized that Jake was mysterious, but at the same time, he had a natural magnetism that attracted people. Until the end of the night, you internally wished that the days would pass quickly because you wanted to see Jake in a real race.

You wanted to see the king in action.

Some random rap music played in the background of the store where you worked. Yang's Auto Parts store was one of the landmarks in the area, but today the movement seemed slow. As you leaned on the main counter, you were studying information about car engines and their differences in a specialized car magazine when you heard the sound of the door opening.

“Hello, may I help-” You looked up and saw Jake standing in front of you “you.” The smile he gave you certainly cheered you up more than it should have “Sup newbie.” He leaned over in the counter and you straightened up listening to his heavenly voice “A little bird told me that this store had the best pieces and the best attendant in town.”

Your eyes met Jake's dark ones and you smiled "You're right.” Closing the magazine, you turned to him “Tell me, how can I help you king?”

Jake gave you an airy laugh, placing both arms on the counter. “I need to place an order for some nitrous oxide bottles, a bumper for a Mitsubishi Eclipse model, and-” His face softened “invite you to a race, this weekend, if you're interested.” Your eyes widened and you stepped closer to the counter. “Yeah, count me in.” Jake scanned your lips briefly before returning his attention to your eyes “Great, give me your contact and I'll send the details.” He handed you his phone so you could save his number, and you felt a rush of euphoria at the realization that you had Jake's number and that you were finally going to see him race.

“Also, don't forget my order.” He chuckled getting his phone back “I need it in 2 days, max.” You accessed the store's computer preparing his order “Don't worry, you're going home today with these pieces.” You turned the monitor showing that what he wanted was in stock “Guess you're lucky.” He smiled before pulling a wad of cash from his pocket to pay “Maybe.”

You took the money, feeling his fingertips touch yours, making you a little nervous. 'I'm still getting used to his presence, it's nothing big.' You thought, putting the money in the cash register and going to the warehouse to get the parts he asked for.

Jake helped you with the heavy bumper putting on his red truck. After delivering everything he needed, he turned to you and smiled before saying goodbye.

“You have an eyelash here, babe.” His thumb gently touched your cheek as if he was wiping something there making your heart drop to your stomach “See you soon, newbie.”

“See ya.” He got into the truck and left, while you felt the place he touched burn.

'It's no big deal.' You mentally repeated it and returned to your workstation.

You felt like your prayers were quickly answered when you arrived at the location Jake had sent you on your phone. Unlike other races, the chosen place for tonight's race was a dirt road with cars that you could easily recognize even from afar.

The place was completely different from what your expected, looking more like a country street. The lighting was poor and the road didn't look as good, but oddly enough there seemed to be more people there than when you ran in the city. You parked next to Jungwon's car knowing that this was all because of Jake. Today he was going to run.

“Look who's here.” Sunghoon announced your arrival “Our favorite newbie.” Jake who was next to Sunghoon smiled seeing how excited you looked “I wouldn't miss this for anything.” Your gaze met Jake's “Finally I'll see the king race with my own eyes.”

“I hope I live up to your expectations, babe.” He replied and you noticed how much more casual he was that night. He wore a simple black shirt, a silver chain, and dark jeans. But he still managed to look stunning.

In all honesty, his friends looked fine too, but Jake was a different breed. He was the type of man who turned heads without even trying.

“Heyy, Y/N.” Ni-ki greeted you with a smile on his face “Glad you came.”

You gave the boy a side hug that ended up becoming closer to you than you imagined. Ni-ki was like your little brother. “Sup little bro, of course I would.”

“Sunghoon, help me with the police scanners!” Heeseung shouted from afar inside a car, adjusting a metal device. Sunghoon grunted lightly, but he knew it was necessary. “Alright.”

As the boy walked to Heeseung, you turned to Jake with a curious expression “Why did you choose this dirt road and not the asphalt?”

Ni-ki smiled and nudged you with his elbow “A race on dirt is where we have a better view of the drift.” Jake looked at you “And it’s also harder for anyone, including me.” He replied and you nodded “So that means it’ll be fun.”

“Exactly.” Ni-ki looked excited “Where do I sign?” You showed the small wad of money “Now I can bet this time.”

Jake gently took the money from your hand and smiled “Let me show you what I can do, newbie.”

☆

As you stood in line, you noticed how wide the street was. 3 cars were lined up on your right side, while Jake on your left was looking at you with a confident look that made you question what he was going to show you.

“Try not to eat too much dust, newbie.” He yelled out the window and you rolled your eyes with an airy laugh “hm, I don't know king, should I go after your crown?” Your response made Jake wet his lower lip with his tongue “You can try babe.” He smiled and turned to face the front of the street.

His profile was as hot as his green Mitsubishi Eclipse.

“Finally, racers be ready.” A girl in the middle raised the flags making the crowd scream while you felt butterflies in your stomach. “Set.”

'It's the same procedure, calm down and let everything flow.' Your thoughts tried to keep your focus in this moment of tension.

“Go!” The flags lowered and the cars sped off at a speed that raised enough dust to give anyone there a runny nose.

Sunghoon had taken the lead, but Jake soon caught up to him, passing diagonally in front of the cars, moving his wheels slightly, purposefully throwing dust onto the front windows of the cars. You quickly turned on the windshield, trying to regain your vision while closing the windows trying to not inhale any more dust.

“Son of a bitch.” Sunghoon cursed, dodging the dust and staying next to him. You were right behind, followed by Jungwon who zigzagged to make the view of the girl behind him worse.

Your mind was a mess and your senses were on edge. Jake was so much better than you expected, but you wouldn't give up.

You thought about using your NOS, but you still had a long way to go and didn't want to miss the opportunity to use it at the right time. While you were struggling, Jake was the first to use it, pressing the button near his gearshift, putting him even further ahead.

“You're not alone, bro.” Sunghoon activated his, standing side by side with Jake who continued accelerating without looking back.

Unexpectedly, Jake ended up going over a pothole that he couldn't see, causing the car to spin slightly. You activated your NOS and smiled as you felt a twist, but soon your smile fell when you saw that Jake had turned the car perfectly in 180 degrees and put it in reverse at an impressive speed. He was face to face with you while he was driving backwards as if it were completely normal.

At that moment you swore you felt time stop. As if everything was happening in slow motion, you saw Jake bite his lower lip containing a smile that was escaping, showing his white teeth and his blond locks perfectly messed up by the wind. He looked at you so deeply that for a moment you forgot you were running against him and you felt your heart race and butterflies invade your stomach, not because of the adrenaline, but because of the sight of Jake in front of you.

He was like an angel.

With a wink he looked back and activated his last NOS and distanced himself turning the car again, taking the lead leaving you speechless.

“Show off.” Sunghoon mumbled as he lost his position of 2nd place after Jungwon hit the back of his car and you activated your NOS, taking his place.

On the last turn Jake pulled off his perfect drift, an angle that had the crowd screaming wildly. You turned and accelerated, setting up your last NOS for the grand finale.

You paired your car with Jake's and activated your NOS, being able to see him through your window. He looked at you and smiled, pressing down on his accelerator. Before you could think, you saw your car lose power slightly and the front of Jake's car passed the finish line in one shot.

☆

You got out of the car seeing Jake being pampered with applauses and deafening screams. You approached laughing at the scene and he looked at you running his hand through his hair “Why are you laughing?” You smirked “Dude, I almost had you.” You pointed at him and the crowd laughed at your excitement.

“You lost and you still smile like that?” He smiled and turned to the crowd, raising his arms. “Even if it’s just for a few seconds, the real winner is the one who comes in first.” Everyone applauded and whistled, agreeing with Jake’s statement.

“You're right.” You approached Jake smiling sincerely “You won fairly, you deserved it.”

He stared at you for a brief second holding back a smile “Thanks, newbie.”

Before you could respond, the entire crowd surrounded Jake and the other contestants, wanting to celebrate his iconic victory. You turned around laughing but noticed something strange.

From afar, you saw Heeseung in Sunghoon's car make an apprehensive face, looking around as if he was afraid of something. He approached the police scanner and his eyes widened. He looked around with unusual hesitation and you felt anxiety take over you. Heeseung heard something suspicious on the radio and was taking too long to report it.

As if you could predict the future, you turned to Jake, but in a brief second Heeseung's voice came through the small radios that were in the cars. “COPS! RUN!”

The crowd crushed Jake and dispersed in a general confusion. “Shit!” You got into your car desperately, knowing that you couldn’t get caught by the police, or everything would go down the drain.

Looking back you saw everyone speeding away like crazy, but your eyes fell on Jake who was running on foot. Confusion crossed your gaze when you saw that his car was not there, and he was alone.

From afar you heard the sound of police car sirens and small red lights appearing in the dark night. You turned the car and accelerated towards Jake.

He looked to the side and saw you yell out the window “JAKE!” Concern written all over your face “GET IN!” He opened the passenger side door and jumped into your car before you started the car and drove off into the middle of the road.

Your anxiety increased significantly when you looked in the rearview mirror and saw that a police car was following you. “We need to lose them.” Jake felt his heart jump out of his chest as he watched you dodge the cars along the way.

“I know a shortcut.” He said and you nodded, waiting for his directions “Take the next alley on the right.” You turned the car around, slowing down the police, but they were still following you “Now turn left.”

You came to a crossroads with a traffic light in the middle. You looked and saw that it was yellow and would soon turn red. Jake looked at you as if you had the same idea.

“Smoke them.” He looked at you with that naughty smile that messed with your insides “Make them eat dust.” You smirked and stepped on the accelerator.

In less than a second you felt your heart stop when the light turned red and you crossed between the cars. The car jumped slightly with the speed and the unevenness of the lanes and Jake ended up hitting his temple on the window glass with the impact of the car on the ground.

The police car was left behind after accidentally hitting a car.

“WOOOOOOOOOH.” You screamed feeling the adrenaline hit your faces “LET'S GOOO BABE!” Jake started laughing at your excitement and felt more relieved before he realized his temple was bleeding “Shit, you're bleeding Jake.” The intonation of your voice conveyed your concern.

He touched his face and saw the blood on his fingertips before wiping it on the fabric of his pants. “It's fine, it's not that serious.” He sighed and sank back into the seat “No, Jake, I won't let you bleed. We need to care of that.” Jake watched you as you tried to locate the street you were on.

“Let's go to my house, then.” Jake said closing his eyes quickly and you swallowed hard “Alright, show me the way.” He nodded and you felt nervous because you knew you would be completely alone with him.

☆

Jake's house was smaller than you expected, but it was still big. The garage he worked in was right next door, in a shared building. You got out of the car feeling a wave of relief wash over you knowing you both were out of jail.

Jake opened the door waiting for you to come in “Ladies first.” He smiled and you touched his arm lightly “Thank you.”

His living room was simple but cozy. The slightly worn beige couch, the pictures of family and friends hanging on the walls, and the medium-sized TV adorned the space. “Make yourself home.” He smiled as you sat on the couch.

He picked up his phone and saw that he hadn't received any calls or messages from the boys making him worry about them. "Where's the first aid kit?" Your question took Jake's attention away from his phone and he turned to you "It's in the garage." He looked at you for a second "Come with me, there's something I want to show you."

You got up and followed Jake to the garage where he kept his cars and some materials.

On top of a cabinet Jake took out the box that had the first aid kit and everything he would need. He placed the box on top of a small table that was in the corner before turning to a car that was covered by a huge sheet and taking it out.

"First, I wanna show you this." He revealed a beautiful black impala 67 "My baby."

Your eyes widened at the sight of the beautiful car. Your fingers touched the shiny material of the hood hesitantly as you looked at every detail carefully.

"It was my father's." He blurted out "It's our greatest treasure."

You looked at Jake in confusion. "Our?"

He smiled, sliding his palm along the side of the car "Mine and my brother Sunoo's." Jake smiled, noticing the surprised expression on your face "He doesn't live here because he's in college, but we always talk."

"That's amazing. Do you ever think about racing with it?" He laughed bitterly at the question "No. It's a relic I want to keep because my father raced with it." His voice cracked a little and you noticed "He was a professional stock car racer, but unfortunately he passed away."

Your heart sank at Jake's revelation. His story was way deeper than you imagined.

"I’m sorry... I had no idea." You walked closer to Jake, lightly touching his forearm "He must have been an amazing racer."

"He was." He sighed, placing the cloth back on top of the car "I used to watch him from the stands with such pride, but one day he had a heart attack while maneuvering the car and ended up having a fatal accident."

He ran his hand through his hair before looking at you. "At the end, besides his love for cars, he left some possessions and some life lessons for me and Sunoo." You followed him to the small table and sat down next to him. "Sunoo was too young to remember everything, but I remember it like it was yesterday."

He was silent for a moment, and you opened the box, taking out a cotton ball, medicine and a band-aid. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He shook his head negatively "It's fine, I want to."

You nodded and looked into his eyes that seemed completely raw. As if there was no layer of "king" or the confident guy that made everyone attracted to him.

It was just Jake. An ordinary guy with dreams, disappointments and his own story.

"I still haven't thanked you for saving me from jail." You smiled at his comical tone "Thank you very much." He spoke sincerely, placing his hand over your knee and looking into your eyes. You held his chin and turned his face slightly to the right, looking at his injured temple. The blood had already dried on his skin.

"It was nothing." With your right hand, you held Jake's left cheek, stabilizing his face while you cleaned his skin with the cotton "It's like you always appear at the right time, like a guardian angel."

You gave him a hearty laugh as you finished cleaning his face and applied the medicine to the wound.

"I don't know if I'm a guardian angel, seeing as I almost stole your 'crown' today." He smiled mischievously and you felt your insides turn at his close proximity. His soft skin on your palm, his gaze fixed on yours and his messy hair were all too much for your heart. "I think you need to practice a little more before you try that." He said humorously and you smiled, putting the band-aid on him "Yeah, you're probably right."

Jake looked deep into your eyes while he brushed some strands of your hair away from your face. His right hand cupped the skin of your cheek making your body go completely rigid. "You're so pretty." He whispered suddenly and you felt your entire body heat up and your heart melt at his deep voice.

You swallowed hard as he glanced between your eyes and your mouth. Your stomach turned completely when he brought his face closer and you smelled his perfume. Jake swore he felt something inside him burn when you nestled lightly into his palm, your bright eyes staring so deeply into his. His mind filled with forbidden thoughts.

His warm breath fanned your face as he brought his face closer to yours, his lips almost brushing against yours.

"Jake, you there?" Sunghoon's worried voice cut through the air, making you and Jake quickly step away.

"Yes, Sunghoon." He spoke in a harsh tone "Where have you been?" You put your hand to your heart, feeling it beating extremely fast.

Sunghoon appeared in front of you, panting a little, placing his hand on his chest. "Bro, I'm so sorry." Jake looked at him clearly irritated "Sunghoon you took my car and I almost got arrested." He got up from the chair in an indignant tone "If it weren't for Y/N I would be behind bars right now." Jake pulled Sunghoon by the collar and he widened his eyes.

"Bro, Heeseung took my car and the police was right behind me, I didn't have a choice. If I stayed there I would be freaking arrested on the spot." He melancholic looked at Jake "Man I'm really sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you." Sunghoon looked desperate and Jake sighed letting his best friend out of his grip "I swear, anything you ask I'll do it."

Jake pinched the top bridge of his nose and closed his eyes briefly. "It's alright, Sunghoon. At least we're all okay." Sunghoon nodded his head and looked at you "Thanks Y/N for saving Jake's ass today."

You smiled and nodded "No problem." The boy then stopped and looked at you and Jake realizing that he probably messed up the mood. Embarrassed, Sunghoon scratched the back of his neck and smiled, "Sooo, I think I'll go to the bathroom, you guys can continue talking." He threw the car keys to Jake who caught them midair.

You stood up, your cheeks hot from the atmosphere that had set in. "It's okay, I need to go now." Jake saw how nervous you looked and approached you "Are you sure? Aren't you hungry or anything?"

You shook your head, putting your hands behind you "No, it's okay. I have to leave anyway; I have to wake up early tomorrow to take care of some things." Jake smirked seeing you smile gently "I'll walk you out."

You just nodded and said goodbye to Sunghoon, who returned the gesture.

The walk back was silent until you got into your car. "Be safe." Jake said leaning on your window. "Of course." You gave Jake a smile and he returned it "Bye, babe. " He whispered before making room for you to drive away.

You waved back at him before speeding up your car and driving away, the affectionate way he spoke echoing in your mind.

'Babe.'

“So, any progress?” Jay’s voice coming through the video call on your computer made you sigh. “Yeah, I’ve identified a suspect, he was acting strange in the last race.”

You leaned your back against the armchair you were sitting in at home.

While undercover, you and Jay have decided not to meet in person for a while, catching up with each other through regular video calls on ghost accounts so you can communicate safely.

“What about the leader? Any clues about him?” He asked and you felt your heart tighten slightly “Nothing. He hasn’t given any sign that he’s involved in this so far. Totally clean.”

Jay nodded, placing the box of noodles he was eating on his desk. “And this new suspect, what do you think?”

You turned your head to the side slightly “He certainly could have warned about the police much earlier, but he held back, as if he was thinking about something, but I could be wrong.” Jay saw how uncertain you seemed about the situation “To be sure I need more days to dig deeper.”

“Okay, but also pay close attention to this Jake and his friends. He might be involved and be good at hiding it.” Jay commented and you nodded “I really don’t think he’s involved, but I’ll check.” Jay’s eyebrows raised slightly at the way you talked about Jake, but he decided not to comment on it.

“Great. I’ll talk to you in a few days.” He ended the call and you sighed, closing the lid of your laptop.

☆

Jake was just finishing checking his engine's nitrous oxide direct drive when Jihoon walked into the shop with a grin from ear to ear.

"Hey man, it's looking nice." Jihoon looked at the engine and Jake looked at his friend with a side smile "I still need to improve some things, but it's looking good."

Jake looked at Jihoon who seemed strangely excited about something. "What's wrong?" Jake wiped his hands on a cloth he had next to him "You seem to be in a good mood today."

"Let's talk privately." Jihoon squeezed Jake's shoulder as he left the tools in the box below the car.

Jake followed Jihoon into a small room at the back, closing the door behind him.

"So? Why are you acting so mysterious?" Jake asked Jihoon, leaning against the table in the room.

Jihoon took a transparent package out of his pocket filled with small, circular pills of various colors. "I found the easiest way for us to get money."

Jake frowned at the sight of the package recognizing what it was "Jihoon, I already told you I don't want this shit around here, much less in our races."

Jihoon air laughed "The way you talk almost makes me believe you are a prude."

"I ain't no saint." Jake got up "But you know this shit is serious. It's destroying races and the drivers are getting sick. Some are dead, what are you thinking?" Jake's heart raced with the frustration of not recognizing his own friend in front of him. "Innocent people are dying because of this, Jihoon."

Jihoon felt his body tremble with anger.

"You know what Jake? You're so full of shit." Jihoon exploded and pointed his finger at Jake's face "You're not my boss to order me around like I'm your little dog." Jake pulled Jihoon by the collar "I'm not your boss, but as your friend I'm warning you." He looked right into Jihoon's eyes "If I see you around our races with this shit I'm gonna break your face."

Jihoon grabbed Jake's hands and broke free from his grip. "You are not as important as you think." he smiled mockingly "At the end of the day you are just a deluded idiot with an imaginary crown that can be stolen at any moment." He pointed at Jake "You aren't your father."

Jake punched Jihoon's face, making his back hit the white wall behind him. The boy flinched and touched the side of his lips feeling the blood drip from the bruise there.

"Don't bring my father into this." Jake was furious "If you think I race just for an imaginary crown then you don't know me at all."

"Fine." Jihoon scoffed at Jake "From now on I'll do my own stuff, you don't own me." He stared at Jake laughing bitterly "Let's see until how long you can protect your little races, King." Jihoon left the room, slamming the door as hard as he could, leaving Jake there alone.

After a few long minutes, Jake leaves the room and from afar sees you approaching in a white dress that completely messed with his mind. That air of natural beauty that you exuded was one of the things that made Jake want to ruin you with the touch of his hands.

“Did I arrive at a bad time?” You smiled with your arms behind you as if you hadn’t just heard the shocking argument between him and Jihoon and he gave a relieved smile shaking his head “At the right time, actually.” You couldn’t help but look at his arms that were exposed because of the black tank top he was wearing. How the veins on his forearm were visible, his striking shoulders and collarbone being adorned by his gold chain.

“So, what can I help you with?” He twirled a silver ring on his finger as he approached “I brought my car for you to take a look at.” With a clearing of your throat, you pointed to your pink car. “I haven’t had it serviced since the last race.”

Jake looked at the car behind you “And a little bird told me that you are the best mechanic in town.” You said in a mischievous tone, referring to what he had said when he visited you at work and Jake smiled holding your hip delicately. His hand applied perfect pressure to the spot.

“And the little bird is correct.” His eyes lingered on your figure for a few seconds before he released your hip and walked towards your car “Let’s see how your car’s engine is doing, princess.”

The way the nickname rolled off his tongue so naturally made your body fizz. The fact that you’d gotten used to always expecting something new in every interaction you had with Jake made you wonder how close you’d become without realizing it. Maybe the coexistence and conversations over the last few weeks had made you create a greater and unexpected bond with Jake, because you could no longer imagine what it was like to go a day without interacting with him.

He opened the hood of the car and leaned forward slightly to observe the machine. You stood next to him, analyzing every action and how his skin seemed even more radiant due to the orange color of the sun beginning to set. The way some blond locks fell in front of his face, adorning his drawn profile, made you a little nervous.

Unlike what you’d heard, Jake was alone in his garage. Normally, he would be with Sunghoon and Ni-ki working on something, but today he was there at your disposal. Your mind tried to remind you that you were on a mission, that it was just a job, but when you saw the way he smiled at you nothing else seemed to matter.

“You're actually really good at this.” Your eyes watched as Jake's hands meticulously analyzed your engine. “Have you ever thought about specializing?”

“In the past, I wanted to be an engineer or work at the stock car,” Jake confessed, wiping his hands with a rag he had hanging from his pocket, “but I decided to prioritize Sunoo’s dream.” You felt your heart tighten as you realized that Jake gave up things daily for the well-being of his family. “That’s how I started racing years ago, to make more money so I could pay for my brother’s college.” He laughed “But Sunoo is so smart that he got a full scholarship, so I help him with other expenses.”

Jake noticed how you looked at him with an indescribable tenderness in your eyes ��Maybe after your brother graduates you can try.” Your hand instinctively brushed a strand of hair that fell in front of his eye “You have a lot of talent, it's never too late to start.”

His hands went straight to your hips, pulling you towards him. His face looked at you with such a specific desire that it was mesmerizing. “It’s okay, I already have everything I want.” He replied, staring into your doe eyes “I mean, almost everything.”

You felt butterflies in your stomach at the way he spoke, looking straight into your eyes. He could have been talking about anything, but internally you hoped he was referring to you.

“And my car?” You asked, swallowing hard “It’s great, in perfect condition.” He smiled and let go of you to close the hood of your car. “Don’t worry, your next race is guaranteed.”

You laughed and crossed your arms. “Okay, so how can I pay you for the service?” Jake’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t expected that question, especially since he used to look at his friends’ cars without any financial return.

“I have an idea.” He smirked and walked past you. “Follow me.”

The fact that you simply accepted his suggestion and followed him even though you didn't know what he was going to suggest made a feeling of pride take over his body. That blind trust you had in him, as if you had no fear of approaching him, drove him crazy.

Jake opened the back door of his garage and you were faced with the backyard behind his house. There was a medium pool next to some plastic tables and chairs. You curiously saw Jake give you a mischievous smile as he took off his dark boots.

"It's so hot today." Jake's hands went straight to the belt of his pants, starting to undo it and you felt your heartbeat quicken at his actions "Let's cool off a little."

You couldn't answer. You were paralyzed by the sight of Jake taking off his shirt and then his pants, placing them on the floor near the edge of the pool and then jumping straight into the water.

"Aren't you coming?" He ran his hand through his wet hair and you shook your head, trying to keep your thoughts sane.

You just saw Jake in just his black underwear so you didn't know how to act after that.

With a few slow steps, you silently approached the edge of the pool and sat there, watching Jake swim without taking his eyes off you. You felt the cold floor beneath your legs as your feet got wet slightly. The water was a little cold, considering it was already early evening and the stars were starting to appear in the sky.

Jake swam closer to where you were, giving you a smile that he knew would knock you over "Suddenly you became so quiet." You gave him an embarrassed smile "I was just watching you." Your feet kicked lightly in the water "It looks like you're having fun."

"I am," He positioned himself between your legs and stood up, "but it would be better if you came to the water." You shook your head as he ran his hand through his perfectly messy wet blond hair. "Why not?" He asked looking at you with the most beautiful eyes in the world "I don't have a bathing suit." Jake's hands touched the skin of your legs, just above your knees, causing you to shiver instantly. He looked at you with a pleading look, as if he knew he could win you over with this.

"You don't need one." he whispered, running his hands up your legs. The angle of your vision was almost torturous, seeing how beautiful he looked beneath your eyes. His wet hair, the line of his shoulders, his sculpted mouth, and those eyes... the eyes of someone who wanted more than just a swim "Just take off your dress."

The butterflies that invaded your stomach were so many that you felt your breath catch in your throat. You couldn't say anything, you just looked at him as you felt his fingers squeezing your thighs, pulling them towards him.

He tilted his head slightly to the side as if he was waiting for your answer. You knew this was going too far, but you didn’t care. Not when Jake stood in front of you, dripping wet and with a look of desire that made your skin burn.

In an unexpected act, you decided to give in to your inner desires and your fingers traveled to the hem of your dress. Little by little you began to take off your dress, making Jake feel all his rationality disappeared as he analyzed your body. The way you took the dress over your head was torturously slow, but the view of your waist and your white lingerie made up for all the delay. You placed the dress behind you, close to Jake's clothes, so it wouldn't get wet. Jake felt his heart race as he watched you turn your face and gently step into the pool, not wanting to splash too much water.

Jake's hands gripped the edge of the pool, trapping you within the space of his arms. He was so close you couldn't think.

You started to feel conscious, seeing that you were in lingerie in a pool and consequently Jake could see your skin. For him, this was like a dream. The girl who suddenly appeared in his world and managed to mess with him, was now in front of him, half naked and with an expression that was driving him crazy.

It was impossible to resist.

Jake's right hand went towards your chin. With all the delicacy in the world he held your chin with his thumb and index finger and lifted it slightly, looking into your eyes. "Is it cold?" He asked and you shook your head. Your hair wasn't completely wet yet and he wanted to touch it so bad, to intertwine his hands in your strands and pull them back so he could get lost in your neck.

Your body collapsed as he stepped closer and his hand turned, pulling your jaw closer to his face. He stared at your little pout, the red of your cheeks and your bright eyes and there he knew how much he wanted to ruin you.

"Can I?" He asked quietly. His voice was filled with a raw feeling that made your legs feel weak "Y-Yes." You replied in a whisper and closed your eyes when you felt his soft lips touch yours.

If there was any part of you that was down to earth, it no longer existed at that moment.

Jake pulled your face tightly, enveloping your lips with his soft mouth in a slow kiss. After waiting so long for this moment, his lips moved slowly as if he wanted to enjoy every second, taking all the time in the world.

Your back hit the wall of the pool as he pressed his body against yours. His left hand went into the water, holding your waist, while his right hand grabbed the corner of your neck, pulling you towards him. You started to pant, feeling all the stimuli at once.

Your breath hitched as you felt his tongue slowly wet your lower lip, his teeth pulling at the skin there. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him towards you, making Jake groan into your mouth feeling the strands of his hair between your knuckles.

He smiled into the kiss, his right hand moving up to your jaw, his fingers on the corner of your jaw while his thumb slid between your bottom lip and your chin, pushing the spot so that you opened your mouth slightly. “Open up for me, princess.” He whispered desperately against your lips, his breath mingling with yours.

You felt your legs lose strength when you felt his tongue inside your mouth. What was once a slow kiss, became a desperate kiss as if he couldn't contain himself. Your moans were swallowed by Jake's mouth who kissed you as if he wanted to devour you.

His hands roamed your body as you pulled his face towards you. He looked even more handsome like this face-to-face. All his features were perfectly proportional.

Jake moved his right hand to the back of your hair, which was loose and slightly damp from the water in his hand. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he grabbed the strands and pulled them back with moderate force. He trailed kisses down your jaw to your exposed neck.

“Wanna taste you.” He whispered huskily into your neck as he peppered kisses across the area, his teeth sinking into your skin making you gasp.

“Jake.” You whispered his name feeling his left hand lower the strap of your white bra, his hand traveling down your torso “Yeah, say my name babe.” He said before kissing you desperately.

Personally, Jake couldn't remember the last time he felt this desperate. He wanted to have you close in a supernatural way, as if that wasn't enough. Jake wanted to touch you everywhere he could, taste you, make you come undone for him.

When his hands reached your hips, wanting to lower the fabric of your lingerie, his phone that was on top of his pants started to ring loudly. Jake stopped his movements and very reluctantly pulled away from your mouth.

You couldn't even think straight when he reached out to see who was calling him at such a crucial time. Jake looked at his own phone screen and saw that it was his brother.

He clicked his tongue and looked at you quickly. His mouth and cheeks were red and his hair was messy. He looked so hot wrecked like this.

“I'm sorry princess, it's my brother.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair “I gotta take this, please wait a bit.” He walked away and got out of the pool so he could talk to Sunoo and make you more comfortable.

You were freaking out. Internally you couldn't comprehend what had just happened. Jake was driving you crazy, that was obvious, but the fact that the desire you felt while kissing him was beyond comprehension showed that this had gone too far. What you felt was real, it wasn't pretend.

You had feelings for Jake.

From afar, Jake answered his phone, trying not to remember how completely surrendered you were to him seconds ago.

“Sunoo, you kind of called at a bad time.” He sighed and the boy laughed on the other end of the line “Aww sorry big bro, were you with someone?”

“Yes.” Jake rolled his eyes answering honestly as he watched you in the pool from afar. “Sorry for disturbing you and y/n, but I have good news.” Jake’s eyes widened when he heard your name “How do you know it’s her?” Sunoo’s cute laugh warmed Jake’s ear “It’s obvious that it’s her. The amount of times you’ve talked about her has already made me memorize her name.”

Jake gave an airy laugh “So? Why did you call?” Sunoo sounded excited “Just wanted to let you know that I'm going home for the holidays.” Jake smiled happy with the news “That's great, bro! You know how we've been missing you.” Sunoo sighed happily “Yeah, I miss you guys too. Now you can go, I don't want to take up any more of your time.” The boy felt relieved that it was nothing serious “And don't forget to take good care of my sister-in-law.”

Jake felt his cheeks flush at the comment “Okay, bye little bro.” He gave an awkward smile and said goodbye to his brother before turning to you, who had put your dress back on and was walking towards him.

“Where are you going?” Jake asked feeling like a loser as he really didn’t want you to leave.

“It was getting cold so I got out of the pool.” You smiled, feeling embarrassed. Jake saw how damp your dress was and how cold you looked. There were no towels near the pool so you probably just pulled the dress over your wet body.

“You’re not leaving wet like that.” He said seriously, but you felt your cheeks heat up at his comment “The car seat will get wet and you might get sick. Come to my room and I’ll lend you some clothes so you can dry off.”

He looked at you worriedly, completely forgetting that he was only wearing his boxers and you nodded, fixing your hair. “Okay.”

☆

The walk to Jake's room was silent, you didn't know what to say and Jake was trying to contain himself because he was happier than usual about what had happened in the pool.

He opened a drawer in his closet and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt along with a towel so you could dry off. “The bathroom is over there.” He pointed to the suite bathroom in his room and you went there to change.

While you were changing, he put on another pair of pants while lost in thought. He sat on his own bed and scratched the back of his neck thinking about how you were there, changing, in his bathroom, inside his room. You were alone and he couldn't stop thinking about the different scenarios he would like to play out at that moment.

Jake knew that the forbidden thoughts he was having were probably much more than a simple carnal and biological desire. Ever since he met you, he felt captivated by your presence and energy, and even though he tried to hold it back, every time you were in the same room, Jake couldn't help the feelings that invaded his interior.

He touched his mouth with his fingers remembering how minutes ago you were kissing and he smiled thinking how he wanted to do that again. How he wanted to touch you again and see what new features you would reveal to him.

When you came out of his bathroom wearing his clothes, holding your dress tangled with your lingerie, he felt his whole body go rigid. “Thank you, Jake.” He stood up and looked at you while you tried not to stare at his exposed abs.

“It’s nothing.” He swallowed hard, bringing his right hand to your cheek. “Y/N, can I say something?” You looked at him and nodded “Yeah, sure.”

He debated for a moment about what to say, as if he was afraid of your reaction if he confessed what he really wanted. “Don't go.” He pulled you by the waist, looking into your eyes “Stay with me.” He whispered and you gripped your clothes tighter.

You knew what this meant and honestly were aware that if you crossed this line there was no going back. It was obvious that you were more involved with Jake than you should have been, considering that your job was just to get close enough to find out what you needed, but you were starting to get attached to Jake's presence and it was messing with your convictions.

Despite your inner moral dilemma, you couldn't think of anything else when you saw Jake in front of you looking at you like that. You couldn't say a word, so you just kissed him as your answer. He instantly pulled you making you drop your clothes on the floor.

Something about seeing you in his clothes triggered something in him so Jake grabbed you by your thighs, pulling your body up and laying you down on his bed. Your back felt Jake's soft mattress and you buried your fingers in his hair as his torso hovered over you.

Like a dream come true, he buried his face in your neck, getting lost in the scent of your perfume. His hands explored your skin beneath the sweatshirt he had given you, making your breath hitch.

“Damn, you're so pretty,” He kissed the length of your neck as he lifted your shirt slightly “so hot.” His lips slid down your abdomen as he held the corners of your hips.

You were convinced that no experience and nothing on this earth surpassed the feeling of feeling Jake's mouth drawn on your skin.

When he slightly pulled down the sweatpants you were wearing he remembered that you weren't wearing your white lingerie anymore. The fact that you weren't wearing anything underneath his clothes made Jake lose his mind.

On the other hand, you felt more self-conscious seeing how he was between your legs and debating whether he should do what was on his mind.

As if he was reading your mind, he looked at you and approached you smiling “Are you wearing something underneath this?” He smirked as he squeezed your thigh over your pants “N-No.” You replied swallowing dryly making him bite his own lip as he confirmed his suspicions.

“Shit.” He said in your ear “There's so many things I wanna do to you.” You moaned as you felt him bite your ear and kiss the skin beneath your earlobe while his right hand explored your body beneath your shirt.

His lips hovered over yours again “Then do it.” You replied making him grunt into your mouth before kissing you desperately “I will princess.” His torso brushed against your pants sending electrifying chills throughout your body.

He pulled away for a moment and got on his knees between your legs as you watched his every action. He smiled when he saw you staring at him shamelessly.

“Like what you see?” He teased you watching as you followed his hands taking off his own pants and throwing them anywhere, leaving only his black boxers “Yeah.” You whispered and he felt his rationality break with your answer “Yeah?” The sensual tone of his voice made you needy. He licked your lower lip as he grabbed the hem of your pants to take them off “Babe, lift your hips for me.” You obeyed his command as he spoke over your lips “I want to see you.”

Jake loved how you obeyed him instantly. He wanted to know how far you would go to do whatever he asked, especially when his mind had so many ideas of what to do.

After taking off his pants he went straight to your shirt to take it off as well. “You're gorgeous.” He said seeing how raw and naked you were just for him. After taking off your shirt you ran your hand down Jake’s chest to his abdomen feeling his sculpted body as he took off his boxers.

“Jake, I want you.” You begged, pulling his torso towards you with your legs and he smiled into your neck, marking the spot. You could smell the chlorine from the pool on Jake as he trailed kisses down your entire body until he reached your legs.

“I'll give you what you want, babe.” You shivered as he responded by trailing kisses up your inner thigh.

With every touch from Jake, your body burned as if it were on fire. It was irresistible and effervescent how good he could make you feel. His touch was good, his breath in your skin was good, his grunts in your ear were good, his body and your turning into one was good. Everything about him was good.

Having Jake was just too good.

☆

Jake and you were hugging each other as he stroked your hair and you looked at his face thinking how perfect he looked there under the moonlight invading his room.

“You tired?” You asked and he smiled, closing his eyes as you caressed his cheekbone with your fingers. “A little bit.” He confessed, snuggling closer to you.

He pulled you by the waist and gave you a quick peck on the lips. “I heard people are calling you bullet now.” You noticed the pleased tone in Jake’s voice “Because you're fast like a bullet.” He teased and you felt embarrassed by the new nickname “They're exaggerating.” Jake looked in your eyes “Don't need to be humble with me, I know you're good.” You nodded feeling an inexplicable happiness for having your skill recognized by a racer as talented as Jake “Congrats on updating from newbie to bullet.”

“Thank you, king.” You whispered and he smiled, running the back of his hand across your cheek “You're welcome, babe.”

This intimacy you had with Jake was so natural. As if you had always been like this, the environment was comfortable and being with him wasn't difficult. It was perfectly natural.

“You know, Sunoo called me to tell me he's coming home for the holidays.” You smiled thinking about the possibility of finally meeting Jake's younger brother “I want you to meet him.”

Your heart was pounding so hard you were afraid Jake would feel it. “Sure, I can’t wait to meet him.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.” You watched as Jake spoke of Sunoo with admiration and fondness “He’s probably taller and smarter than me now.” Jake chuckled warmly.

“You must miss him a lot, huh?” Jake thought for a second, remembering all the happy memories he had with his brother “Yeah, I do.” He laughed through his nose “Sunoo is so much fun, he always brightens up the atmosphere with his contagious joy.”

“He seems like an amazing person.” Jake smiled at your comment “He is.” You giggled feeling Jake's nose tickle your neck “I think it's going to be good for him to come.”

You sighed thinking about how you wanted this peaceful and joyful environment to last longer. “I think so too.”

“I was thinking about having a barbecue.” He looked at you, stroking your back “What do you think? Do you like barbecue?”

“I love it.” You smiled as he placed a kiss on your cheek and then on your lips “Barbecue it is then.” He smiled and hugged you as you snuggled into him letting the sleepiness take over both of you.

The sun was shining brightly in the sky and the day was beautiful as everyone gathered at Jake's house for the barbecue he had organized for Sunoo's arrival. Sunoo had arrived a day earlier and was excited about the barbecue, happy that he would see the friends he missed so much and finally meet you after hearing about you.

Jake, with a satisfied expression, was watching as you and Sunoo talked while taking the rice and potatoes to the table in the backyard of his house. Ni-ki and Jungwon were at the grill arguing about how the meat should be cooked, whether it was well done or rare.

He smiled, especially seeing how you were even more radiant than usual.

“I thought you didn't mess up with drivers.” Sunghoon spoke next to him in a sarcastic tone and Jake gave him an airy laugh “I'm not messing with her.” He confessed and Sunghoon widened his eyes “Wait, so that means...” He followed Jake's line of sight who didn't take his eyes off you “Drop it Sunghoon, I just want to relax and eat some barbecue.” Jake replied and Sunghoon put his arm around his shoulders “But I want to hear about this bro.”

“He's in love, Sunghoon.” Heeseung said taking his drink approaching the two friends “It's obvious.” Jake gave Heeseung a quick glance before turning his attention back to you “She's special, that's all.” Jake said smiling with a look of tenderness when he saw how cute you were arranging things on the table “Damn bro, you're really damn bad.” Sunghoon retorted bumping Heeseung's fist.

“Maybe I am.” Jake spoke softly, admitting what he already knew was true. The boys looked at each other smiling at Jake’s confession, hugging him sideways as they walked towards the table.

“C'mon guys, let's eat!” Sunoo shouted, calling everyone to the table and everyone sat down. Jake sat next to you, making you give him a sweet smile that made Ni-ki roll his eyes. “Guys, get a room!”

“Shut up Ni-ki!” Jungwon nudged him with his elbow making Ni-ki smile “Alright, let's all calm down.” Sunoo said and looked at everyone laughing “Well, since it's your first time here at our barbecue, I think you should say grace.” Jake looked at you and you smiled “Okay.”

You took a deep breath, looking at everyone before you started speaking. “I want to say that I'm grateful to have met you all and that I'm happy that we're here together, well and healthy.” Your heart sank when you saw how sweetly Jake looked at you “I'm really grateful for all of you.” He squeezed your thigh under the table and smiled while you felt your heart explode inside your chest.

“The newbie knows how to touch our hearts.” Sunghoon joked and Ni-ki wiped an imaginary tear from his eye “Let's eat!!” Jungwon said excitedly and started serving himself.

“I'm also grateful to have met you.” Your heart raced as Jake's whisper warmed your ear “That's good to know.” You smiled and he held himself back from kissing you right there in front of everyone. He would definitely steal this kiss later.

As everyone ate and laughed, you took in the surroundings. The boys' laughter and jokes, Sunghoon teasing Jake, Ni-ki and Jungwon talking about something random, and Sunoo passing the soda to Heeseung. The pleasant atmosphere and the feeling of familiarity were overwhelming. It wasn't just a gathering of friends, they were family.

You felt like you were home.

And it broke your heart, because you knew this wasn't forever.

☆

Jake had pulled you into his room at the first opportunity that arose. With the excuse that you both needed to 'rest' from lunch, he held your hand and led you to the familiar place you had been before.

And with the excuse that he had sweated too much in the heat of the sun, he called you to take a shower and so you ended up with your back glued to the cold tiles of his bathroom while he attacked your neck. Your knuckles were in the middle of Jake's dark hair.

He took off his shirt and grabbed your body, pulling you onto his lap before placing you on the bathroom counter. “I love when you show me your pretty legs.” He whispered, squeezing the skin of your thighs. You were wearing a blue summer dress that showed off your body perfectly and contrasted with the color of your skin, which drove Jake crazy. “Do you like it?” You asked softly against Jake’s mouth. “I love it.” He whispered before he buried his long, beautiful fingers in your loose hair.

“That's good because I chose it just for you.” The way you spoke while looking at Jake with so much desire made him crazy to ruin you right there and then. “Yeah?” His voice seemed to be an octave lower than normal “Then take it off for me.” The way he said it with his sexy voice as he attacked your neck gave you goosebumps. The slightly imperative tone along with his desperation to have you heated up your entire body.

He helped you take off your dress and all your clothes while he took off his pants. His hands gripped every corner of your body as if he needed it to live.

You tried to contain your moan as Jake smashed his lips into you again. The kiss was messy and desperate, which reflected Jake's mental state at that moment. Your nails dug into Jake's back and neck, making him groan against your mouth.

He grabbed you by the hips as you crossed your legs around his torso holding him. As he carried you to the bathroom stall you attacked Jake's neck who bit his own mouth to avoid making any noise.

You let go of Jake and stood up again when Jake pinned you to the shower wall and turned on the shower, soaking you both. Before you could think of anything, Jake grabbed your cheeks, bringing your face close to his and deepening the kiss forcefully.

The mixture of your breaths and your warm bodies with the water falling from the shower was addictive. Jake was so turned on he wanted to taste every part of your body if he could. He wanted to bend you over and touch you until you're crying and begging for him to do something.

As Jake's hands roamed the length of your body, he brought his kisses to your neck marking the spot "Maybe I should mark you up so everyone can see you're mine.” You felt your breath hitch and your blood pressure rise as you felt his tongue run over the length of your neck “You taste so good.” He whispered before sucking on your bottom lip and kissing you again.

No matter how much you tried to hold on, you moaned with a small whimper causing Jake to pull away and put his hand over your mouth.

“You need to be quiet, love.” He whispered in your ear as he covered your mouth “Or else they we'll hear us.” You nodded, feeling your legs tremble as Jake pressed his body against yours.

You held onto his biceps as you tried to calm down, but it was impossible seeing how Jake's wet hair was pulled back after he ran his hand through his dark locks. It was an irresistible sight. "You're making it hard for me to be quiet, Jake." You whispered and swallowed hard seeing how he smiled and looked at you. Jake's gaze penetrated every last part of your dermis.

“I'll shut your pretty mouth then.” Your eyes rolled back when you felt his fingers touch you and he stuck his tongue inside your mouth, swallowing all your moans.

In an impulse he picked you up again and pressed you against the wall without breaking the kiss. His fingers sank into your skin trying to keep you in place.

You tried to feel him a bit more, but Jake wouldn't let you as he kissed you in a slow, torturous rhythm. When you pulled away for air you looked at him "Please, Jake." You begged and he smiled “Please what?” He teased “Say it with your words.”

His head was a mess and his entire body was throbbing with desire “Want to feel you,” you whispered “please, love.” Jake felt his chest swell with adoration and pride when he saw how you were surrendered to the point of calling him love, something you hadn’t done before.

“Since you asked nicely.” He whispered before accomplishing what you wanted most.

☆

After sleeping the whole afternoon to recover your energies, you and Jake went down to have dinner with Sunoo.

Sunoo had prepared a lasagna so you could enjoy the peaceful evening and chat a little. “So Y/N, I heard you’re a great racer.” Sunoo smiled excitedly as he chewed his food.

“Well, I try.” You laughed as Jake had fun watching his little brother interact with you “She’s good, she beat Ni-Ki and Jungwon in her first race.” Jake praised you and you felt a wave of happiness invade your chest.

“You really are perfect for my brother then.” He said in a comical tone and you felt your cheeks heat up as Jake smiled, silently agreeing with his brother’s comment “I would love to see you race, but unfortunately I have to go back after this holiday because of my university classes.”

“I understand…” You took a sip of the juice in your glass “Do you race too?” Sunoo laughed and waved his hand in the air in denial “God, no. Not like the boys.” He sighed “I always preferred the business and organization part of our car workshop. That's one of the reasons why I'm at the business course in university.”

You were impressed by Sunoo. He definitely had the face of someone who suited the field he chose. “Sunoo was the best manager of our finances, but now that he’s in college I take care of everything.” Jake said, looking at you tenderly “It seems like a difficult task.”

“It’s a little, but I can handle it.” Jake said confidently making you laugh at the table “So this is the confidence of the king of racing?” You teased Jake by asking Sunoo who laughed and nodded “That’s because you didn’t see what he was like when we were younger.”

“Hey! No exposing our cringe memories to my girl.” Jake said placing his hand on your thigh making your heart clench. 'my girl.'

“I’ll tell you everything later.” Sunoo whispered to you as if Jake couldn’t see him “I’m looking forward to this moment.”

“Hey! I can hear you guys.” Jake smiled as he watched you and Sunoo enjoy his comedic tone.

Sunoo, who saw how you and Jake looked at each other, side smiled seeing how happy Jake seemed. Not that Jake wasn't happy, but now he had a different glow and he knew it was because of you. After dinner you helped wash the dishes and then went upstairs to Jake's room to wait for him while he and Sunoo put away the last remaining utensils.

“You know, it’s been a while since I've seen you smile like that.” Sunoo said to Jake as he finished putting the silverware away in the drawer.

Jake smiled and looked at his brother as he finished taking out the trash from the kitchen. “Really? I didn't know that.”

“It’s because of Y/N.” Sunoo looked mischievously to Jake “I like her, so please take care of her.”

“Shouldn't you be saying this to her?” Jake laughing crossing his arms in front of his chest “I'm your brother, after all.”

Sunoo giggled and closed the cabinet drawer “It's because I've known my brother long enough.” He said sarcastically and Jake ruffled his brother's hair “Don't worry, I'm taking good care of her.” Jake finished his kitchen chores and waited for Sunoo at the door “She's special.”

“Good.” Sunoo gave a funny wink before turning off the kitchen light and heading to his room. “So, I'll trust my cute sister-in-law to you.”

“Alright.” Jake just smiled and went up to his room, excited to spend another night with you.

You had arrived at the place where another race would take place while looking for Jake who said he was near the cars at the starting line.

The night was perfect until you bumped into Jihoon in the middle of the street. You were shocked by his nerve to show up for the race after the fight he had with Jake, but this only confirmed your suspicions that he was the one you were really looking for all this time and not Heeseung.

“Look who’s here.” He said mockingly, looking you up and down. “I should say the same.” You replied, shocked by the boy’s change in behavior.

He approached with his hands in his pockets “Where does this attitude come from?” he scoffed “Why are you so mad?” You rolled your eyes and walked out of Jihoon’s field of vision, bumping your shoulder into his arm “I don’t have time for this.”

“Wait a minute.” He pulled you by the arm and turned you to face him. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, let’s catch up.” You looked at him suspiciously. “What do you want to talk about? We’re not friends.” He smiled and touched your shoulder “We can be, with benefits too if you want.” You took his hand off your shoulder and walked away. “You’re crazy.”

It was shocking how that shy boy persona was shattered with the revelation of who he really was.

“Don’t play too hard to get, I know I can teach you a few things, newbie.” You frowned “No thanks, I’m fine.” Before he could touch you again Jake arrived on the scene pulling you behind him.

“Oh, now I understand.” He gave you a harsh laugh “You’re just another one in Jake’s pants.” You grabbed Jake who was clearly irritated and almost about to punch him again “Jihoon, get the hell out of here.” He spoke through his teeth and the boy laughed “Sure king, I’m leaving.” He said sarcastically before turning to you “When you get tired of him, you can always call me.” He winked at you and you rolled your eyes in disgust “As if! cretin...”

Jake pulled you by the hand away from the crowd and looked at you with a worried look “Are you okay?” He held your face between his hands and you nodded “Yeah, it’s okay.” He sighed and you hugged him suddenly feeling welcomed by his presence “Come on, forget about it and let’s go watch the race.”

“I’m not in the mood to watch the race anymore.” He stroked your hair “So, what do you want to do?” You asked and he smirked “I have an idea.”

You looked at him curiously, knowing that Jake always came up with the craziest ideas.

“Let's take a ride.”

☆

Being in the passenger seat while Jake drove was a unique feeling. While he focused on the road, his hand was gripping your thigh, sliding over your soft skin. The metal rings on his hand sent goosebumps across your skin. “Where are we going?” You asked, seeing how calmly he smiled.

“A place I want you to see.” He turned and stared at you as he sped the car in a straight line. “You might wanna keep your eyes on the road, babe.” You laughed seeing how he kept looking at you with a smirk.

“What? You think we're gonna crash?” He asked as he still accelerated the car before stopping at a traffic light.

“I don’t know. I guess I trust your driving skills, though.” He laughed at your response squeezing your thigh “The secret's not about having the best car, it's how you drive it.” His focus returned to the road making you see his profile, noticing Jake's dark hair blowing in the wind coming from the window.

That feeling of adrenaline and confidence that came every time you were with Jake was comforting. You knew he was your complete opposite, but maybe that was what drew you to him. Like you were two sides of the same coin, or magnets with different polarities that couldn't be separated.

Likewise, Jake knew he felt happy every time you were together. It was like you were the trigger that activated his dopamine. An addiction he could never get enough of.

“We’re here.” He stopped at a pier. There was practically no one else there at this time of day, but through the window you could see the dark water rocking gently with boats in the background.

“Wow, how beautiful.” You said, observing the landscape, feeling the cold breeze give you goosebumps a little.

“I know.” He sighed, looking at you “I come here when I want to be alone and relax.”

You looked at each other, feeling sparks fly instantly. Jake's hand was still on your thigh, moving it up under your skirt.

“I love it when you wear skirts. It reminds me of the day we first met.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear. Your breathing quickened as you stared into his dark orbs. “You remember what I was wearing when we met?” You couldn’t help the silly smile that appeared on your face.

“How could I forget?” He smiled and fit his face into your neck, feeling your sweet scent “You were so beautiful. It was difficult to ignore.” He pressed his lips to the corner of your neck in a delicate way, as if he was just testing the waters.

“Maybe you fell in love at first sight.” You playfully touched his hair and he smiled against your skin “Maybe I did.” His confession made you pull his face to yours. He kissed you tenderly and you couldn’t help but want to climb on top of him.

You pushed him back and crawled lightly until you climbed onto his lap. His eyes widened in surprise, but he soon smiled, adjusting you in the best position.

As you looked down at him you couldn't help but check him out. How he stood so close and yet at the perfect distance to admire him. His teasing expression turned you on completely. “Your lips are so pretty.” You ran your thumb over his lips before giving him a long kiss “Wanna kiss them all the time.” You whispered, making Jake’s heart beat wildly. “Yours are pretty too.” He smiled looking at your mouth.

You didn't know what came over you. Maybe Jake's presence brought out all your primal desires.

Your fingers sank into Jake's dark hair through his bangs. “This hair color is nice.” You felt how soft his hair was and smiled. The contrast of his dark hair with his lightly tanned skin from the sun made Jake even more attractive.

His hands went to your waist “It’s my natural color.” His thumbs made circles on your waist underneath the fabric “Do you like it?” You nodded, threading your fingers through his locks and running them down to the nape of his neck “Yes, it suits you.”

He smiled and pulled you closer “I'm just going to miss the blond a little because it reminds me of when I first met you.” You confessed holding his cheeks, your thumbs caressing his cheekbones.

He smiled looking at you. “Yeah?” He loves the vision of you on top of him, because in his mind you belong there. “Tell me love, what do you want?” He asked, leaning into your neck and moving his hands down to your thighs. The smell of his perfume invading and hypnotizing your senses.

Jake loves the feeling of the soft skin of your thighs between his fingers.

You felt butterflies in your stomach at Jake's tone. It was embarrassing how you melted so easily at his words, but his delicious voice was irresistible.

Your body twitched slightly feeling him kiss your collarbone making Jake squeeze your thighs. “You.” You replied nervously and he gave you a quick kiss before smiling over your mouth “Just that?” You nodded feeling a fire rise through your body.

Even though you didn't fully understand his question, at that moment Jake would give you whatever you wanted, material or not, but your sincerity about the moment made him sure that he would do everything in his power to satisfy you and see you happy.

“Wanna know what I want?” He said with a ragged breath. His lips brushed over yours as his warm breath mingled with yours. “I want to touch you so bad.” He didn’t wait for your answer and attacked you with desire.

Kissing Jake was like feeling your body being elevated to a higher level of human understanding. His soft lips met yours like a perfectly rehearsed dance. As if they were the perfect fit for yours.

Jake pressed your body against his and you buried your fingers in the strands near the nape of his neck, making him groan into your mouth. The way he sucked on your bottom lip was so intoxicating that it made you want to attack every inch of his skin.

Giving in to your deep desires, you trailed your mouth down Jake's marked jaw, kissing along the way until you reached his neck. He moaned as you pulled his head back so you could kiss the length of his throat.

Jake pulled your face close and met your lips hungrily. You felt his tongue deepen the kiss desperately while his right hand under your shirt passed over your belly and your bra pressed against the skin there, sending a shiver down your spine.

You reached down to the hem of his shirt to take it off and he helped you, throwing the shirt onto the passenger seat as you admired his abs.

Your fingers wandered over his belt and he smirked “Didn't know you were this needy.” He licked his bottom lip with an expectant look at you making your cheeks heat up “It's your fault, you do this to me.” Your hands began to undo his belt quickly and he swore it was the hottest sight he could ever have.

Jake felt that his pants were getting uncomfortable and decided to pull up your shirt while you tried to unzip him. You stopped so he could take off your shirt and then you went back to kissing him.

His hands moved up your back to your shoulders. He explored your body as if it were the first time and you loved it. You loved how he touched you, how he knew exactly what to do, how the chemistry between your bodies was perfect.

“Wait, are we really going to do this here?” As a shot of rationality you pulled back slightly and felt self-conscious as you saw that you were in a place where someone could appear. Jake who was marking the skin below your collarbone as he lowered the straps of your bra stopped for a moment to look at you.

“Jake, what if someone sees us?” You whispered, looking at the scenery around you that was completely deserted. “No one will see us, love, it’s empty here.” Jake rolled up the car windows, which were tinted to reassure you “And the windows are tinted.”

Your heart was racing at the thought of doing something as forbidden as this. “Love, please.” He whimpered hoarsely “I need you.” His hands pulled your hips forward in a desperate attempt to feel you.

You gasped, feeling the friction of your body against his, and slowed down your movement, teasing Jake. This begging version of him was something you liked more than you expected.

He who always took charge and was more dominant with you was now whimpering in need of your touch “Patience.” You whispered and Jake moaned like a cry stuck in his throat when you lowered his zipper and he felt your fingers hover over the spot.

He wanted more than ever to get rid of the piece of clothing, especially when you moved slowly and never enough for what he wanted most.

“Please, I'm going crazy.” He spoke in your ear, holding your hips and pressing your weight hard onto his lap. Feeling satisfied with Jake’s state and feeling that you had already reached your own limit, you decided to give in to what you both wanted.

So, on that beautiful night on the deserted pier, the sounds of the light waves, their uneven breathing and Jake's name being said repeatedly were the only things that could be heard there inside Jake's car.

After weeks of not seeing Jay, you drove many miles to a police base that was in a neighboring town. You knew this meant it was time for the final report and that you would have to move soon.

“I think we should move fast.” Jay paced impatiently back and forth “You’ve already had enough evidence that Jihoon is the guy we’re looking for.”

“We can’t do that. You know that without physical evidence and witnesses he would be released and we wouldn’t be able to track the boss.” You argued and Jay sighed.

“We have witnesses: all his friends who race.” He put his hands in his pockets “We can take advantage of the moment and catch them too for the illegal races we never managed to get.”

“No.” You replied and Jay looked at you in surprise “No? What do you mean by that?”

“They don’t know anything, they’re just kids who race around every now and then and live their lives.” Jay couldn’t believe you were defending the boys.

“Right, but the leader knows. Jake knows Jihoon is involved, so he has a stake in not reporting him.” Jay stood in front of you and you scoffed.

“As if he would call the police without proof and risk being arrested. Let’s be smart Jay.”

Jay was irritated by the way you defended Jake. “You know what? I don’t know why you’re defending him. At the end of the day, he’s still a criminal, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Jay, you talk like he’s a horrible criminal who committed heinous crimes, but he’s just a guy who races illegally and that’s just a misdemeanor, it’s not the end of the world!” You glared at Jay “Jake isn’t like Jihoon.”

Jay's eyes widened and he pointed at you. “'Just' a misdemeanor? Since when you became so liberal about committing illegal acts?”

You sighed in frustration “Jay you know very well that it’s not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He stepped closer “Because I think you’re actually too attached to those boys.” You looked away, feeling your heart sink knowing it was true “Do you think I don’t know what you’ve been doing? Going to barbecues and going to Jake’s house when there’s no need at all?”

You frowned and stared at Jay in disbelief.

"You've been tracking me?” You scoffed “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I'm serious.” He spoke seriously looking at you “It's clear that ever since you started to spend time with him you’ve changed.” You felt your eyes water slightly “Y/N, your judgement is clouded!” He sighed “And I have no other option but to take you off the case.”

“Jay please don’t do this.” You walked over and held your friend’s hand “You know we’re so close to solving this case, don’t push me away now.”

“Y/N, look into my eyes right now and tell me you don’t have feelings for Jake.” He looked at you and you looked away feeling your heart tighten “You know I can’t do that.”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Y/N, you need to stay out of this case.”

“Wait!” Jay looked at you, seeing your desperation “Hear me out, please Jay.”

He sighed and sat down on the chair he had in the room “Okay, I'm hearing you.”

“What if I can convince him to cooperate and help us with the operation?” You begged your friend “They can be free, but we get Jihoon and the entire information network.”

Jay stopped and thought for a bit. It would be interesting for both sides and would make it easier to catch Jihoon.

“It might work.” He looked at you with concern in his eyes. “But you know what that means, don’t you?”

You sat next to Jay and looked at the ceiling, feeling the melancholy hit you with everything. “I know.”

He stood up and touched your shoulder “I’m sorry Y/N, but we need to do what’s right.”

“I know.” It was the last thing you said before sinking into absurd sadness.

You knew you would have to reveal everything to Jake and this would all come to an end and you didn't want to accept that fact.

☆

Jake was lying on top of you while you stroked his hair. He hugged your waist while you looked at the ceiling thinking about how to talk to him.

He had come to your apartment before, but today in particular would be a difficult day. You would reveal your identity and ask for Jake's cooperation, even though you knew it would destroy the relationship you had.

Of course, you hadn't planned on getting involved with Jake on this level of depth, but you couldn't help it. Feelings aren't easily controlled, and to be honest, you didn't want to avoid it.

You wanted to get involved with Jake and you wanted to go all the way, even knowing the painful consequences that it would bring. But when you weighed it up, the benefits and moments of happiness with him were much better than any heartbreak you would have to accept.

If suffering was inevitable then at least you experienced that love until the very last moment.

You sighed and Jake raised his head seeing your worried expression. “What is it babe? Is something worrying you?” He looked at you intently and you gave a weak smile holding his cheek in your hand “Just thinking about some things.”

He nodded and lifted himself up a little so he could kiss your neck “What things?” You hummed feeling his lips travel from your neck to your lips “Tell me what is worrying you so I can help you.” Your heart sank as you heard Jake “I don’t like seeing you this way.”

You smiled and kissed him again knowing it would be a goodbye. You pulled his face to yours and he smiled into the kiss, his hands roaming around your waist.

You hugged him aggressively, smelling his cologne one last time. Your fingers intertwined in his hair, feeling its softness.

“Damn babe.” He whispered breathlessly as he kissed your collarbone. Your legs rose slightly before wrapping around his torso and you pushed him aside, straddling him.

You looked at him with a melancholic look that Jake noticed and he caressed your face “Why are you looking at me like that?” His hand went to the side of your neck and you bent down kissing him.

The feeling of being in Jake's arms was unique and you didn't want to forget it. Jake deepened the kiss and you pulled away trying to catch your breath, feeling your heart tighten.

“Sorry, I needed to breathe.” You gave a light smile and Jake saw how you lowered your head dejectedly “What’s going on babe? You’re acting weird.”

You looked at Jake once more to remember the details of his face. His furrowed eyebrows, his nose, his drawn mouth. His messy dark hair, his collarbone marked by your mouth along with the silver necklace you remembered so much.

“We need to talk.” You sighed and he sat on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard “What’s going on? Tell me.” He looked at you worriedly and you tried to find the right words.

“I know what Jihoon is doing.” Jake was surprised by what you said “We need to do something to stop this.” He gave you a confused and worried look. “Babe, what do you mean? Jihoon did something to you? Did he threaten you with something?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “No, he doesn’t know that I know that.” He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair “So that’s what was worrying you.” You nodded and he pulled your face to give you a quick peck “Jake, we need to end this.” He pulled away, hearing your anxious tone of voice.

“What’s wrong? You’re scaring me babe.” He looked at you confused as you tried to work up the courage to confess everything.

You looked into Jake's eyes and gave one last smile, holding his face in your hands and letting go before revealing the whole truth.

“Jake, I'm a cop.” You said in a rush and he laughed “Babe, c'mon, that's not funny.” He looked at you hopefully as if you were going to say it was all a bad joke, but you looked away as you felt your eyes fill with tears.

“It’s true. I’m an undercover cop.” You whispered, getting up from the bed and Jake’s eyes widened.

At that exact moment Jake felt his heart break into several pieces.

“That’s a lie. Please tell me you’re joking.” Jake’s voice began to crack.

“It’s true.” You looked at him with tears threatening to fall from your eyes “I needed to find out who was the infiltrated drug dealer at the races and I found out it was Jihoon.”

Jake stood up feeling an absurd pain invade his chest. He felt betrayed, as if everything had been a big lie. “You lied to me? All this time?” He gave a sarcastic laugh, feeling his eyes water “Everything we lived was a lie?”

You turned to him, looking at him desperately “Jake, of course not.” You approached him feeling you heart tear at Jake's pained expression “Everything I said, what we lived, what I feel for you is real.” Jake looked at you, letting the tears fall “Please, believe me.”

He pulled away from you, putting on his shirt. “How do you expect me to believe you?” He was looking for his pants, but he was disoriented so he sat on the bed, putting his head in his hands. “You really fooled me…” He bitter smiled as he cried “I really thought everything you said was true.”

He looked at you with a contorted expression that broke everything you had inside “Was it fun playing with me? Was it funny deceiving me all this time?” You shook your head vehemently and he felt his throat close up “Is Y/N even your real name ? I don't know anymore.”

“It wasn’t a joke, it was all true.” Your chest tightened with all the pain you felt “I really didn’t mean to hurt you.” He shook his head. “No, it’s too late.”

“Jake I’m so sorry, but please believe me when I say that everything I feel for you is real.” You took his hand and placed it over your heart but he pulled away and stood up “I don’t believe you anymore, I can’t do it.” He looked away and you let the tears fall “Whatever we had is over now.”

“I understand that you don’t believe me, but you need to listen to me.” He looked at you in disbelief “I need your help to save you and our friends.”

He got irritated when he saw how you spoke “Save me? Our friends? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Jake, the police are after Jihoon. If you don’t help, everyone will go down with him, including you.” You stood in front of him “I need your help to arrest Jihoon and free the boys, please.”

“I’m sorry, but how do you expect me to believe you when you’re a liar?” His words were harsh and you felt your heart being pierced with each word spoken.

“It’s okay if you don’t believe me, but please think about the boys. They didn’t do anything and they’re in danger because of Jihoon.”

Jake felt his chest get rippee every time you opened your mouth. He didn't know he could suffer this much.

“Me and the boys have nothing to do with this. This is your problem, why don't you solve it?” He looked at you and you got angry “I’m trying!” You ran your hand through your hair “You’re not listening to me.” He saw your frustration “What do you want from me?”

“Jake, if you don’t help us, they’ll try to arrest Jihoon in some race and if the boys or anyone else is there, they’ll all going down.” You said seriously “Please help us, for them.” He looked at you and you gathered your courage before saying one last time “Please, even if you don’t believe me, I really don’t want to see you arrested.”

Jake looked at you, feeling his insides churn. His stomach hurt with the weight of the anxiety he felt. “Fine. I'll help you.” He grabbed his things before looking at you one last time “But just so you know,” You looked at him “After all of this is over, I don't want to see you ever again.”

You nodded, feeling your tears wet your face “Okay, I understand.” You spoke with a choked voice and Jake looked at you one last time with tears in his eyes before leaving and slamming the door to your apartment without saying a single word.

Your body collapsed to the floor and you brought your hands to your face.

Knowing that you had done your duty but that you’d unfortunately lost the love of your life, you allowed yourself to cry yourself to sleep.

☆

After a few days, the three of you were inside a disguised and armored car outside the meeting place that Jake had managed to find out where Jihoon would be.

After revealing your identity to Jake, everything had changed. You no longer saw him or the boys, making up some lame excuses to justify your absence.

Inside you felt the worst pain you could ever feel. It was as if everything good that had happened to you had been an illusion. A good joke from the universe.

Jay picked you up at your apartment and when you got into the car seeing that Jake was already there you felt your heart stop.

The moment your eyes met, you quickly realized how much you missed Jake. You missed his eyes, your hugs, the tender kisses he gave you when you asked for them. How his jokes were funnier when you were alone. You missed his hair between your fingers, his voice in your ear.

You missed him.

Even if you succeeded in your mission, you didn't know how you would move on with your life. Jake had become so special that you didn't want to accept a reality without him by your side.

He was in front of you, beautiful as ever and you couldn't do anything about it.

While you wondered if he would ever forgive you, he stared at the landscape through the glass, not wanting to make eye contact.

“So, let’s review the plan.” Jay breaked the silence and Jake looked at him dejectedly “Your excitement touches me.” Jay ironically said and Jake scoffed.

“Sorry if I'm not in the brightest mood. I just discovered my girlfriend is an undercover cop and that one of my old friends actually hates me and I need to make him go to prison in order to save my friends.” Jake commented and your heart sank when you heard the word 'girlfriend' and Jay looked at you through the corner of his eye without saying anything “So yeah, sorry I'm not very excited about that.”

“It's going to be over soon, don't worry.” Jay replied and Jake sighed as you remained looking at him.

“Jake, please.” You tried to speak but he interrupted you looking at Jay “Let's just get this over with.”

Jay nodded and went on to explain the plan again.

It was simple, Jake would meet with Jihoon, and talk to him until the moment he would reveal the prohibited merchandise and you would be in the ideal blind spot to arrest him.

But as simple as it was, you wanted to enjoy these last moments with Jake.

“You can go first, he's approaching the location.” Jay said to Jake who nodded and got out of the car and walked normally to the spot he was supposed to be.

“You know, you look awful.” Jay whispered to you, who looked at him and gave a sarcastic smile. “Yeah, I know.” He laughed and hugged you from the side “You know, now that I met him, I kinda get you.” He finished loading his gun and looked at you “He's actually very charming. Sorry I judged you.”

“It's okay Jay, let's just forget about this.” You commented feeling your heart tighten “Okay, sorry. You know I care about you, right?” He said affectionately and you smiled nodding “I know.” You bumped your best friend's fist, like always.

☆

You were at a strategic point on Jake's left side. Your body was crouched down when Jihoon approached, talking to Jake from a distance. Jay was on the other side, a little further back, anxiously waiting for Jihoon to give any signal so he could jump straight towards him and arrest him.

You quickly glanced at Jake who looked normal, as always. That calm expression you remember seeing the moment you first saw him.

Everything about him was captivating and a part of you wished things were different. If you had met under different circumstances, at different times, maybe it would have worked out.

Before you could continue your thoughts, you noticed a strange shift in the conversation and saw that Jihoon took a gun out of his pants and pointed it at Jake.

You felt your heart race with adrenaline and turned to Jake who looked shocked.

“Jihoon?!” Jake said feeling his body stiffen in fear “What the hell are you doing?”

Jihoon smirked “Sorry man, it's nothing personal, it's just something I should've done a long time ago.” Jake widened his eyes “I thought we were friends!” He said angrily and Jihoon rolled his eyes “Things have changed.” He clicked his tongue “You know that.”

“It was good knowing you, king.” He pulled the safety back on the gun and in a rush you ran out of hiding and jumped over Jake as Jihoon pulled the trigger.

“NO!” Jake yelled as he saw you fall in front of him, your shoulder bleeding. Jay came from behind and tackled Jihoon, handcuffing him. “You bastard!! I'll make sure you rot in prison!” Jay screamed while you started to get dizzy.

“Y/N! Oh my God you're bleeding.” Jake knelt down beside you, desperate and with tears in his eyes. “Are you okay?” You asked Jake, feeling your forehead break out in a cold sweat. Okay, getting shot wasn't that cool.

“How can you ask me that? You just got shot!” He said in a choked voice holding your face with his shaking hands.

Jihoon was struggling behind you, but Jay had already knocked him out with everything he had while calling for backup. “We need backup urgently! We have an attempted murder against an agent, the suspect is down and the agent is shot, send an ambulance.”

“Jake.” You whispered his name knowing that you would soon pass out. Your body was already showing signs that it was weakening from the loss of blood.

“I hope you can forgive me one day.” You lifted your hand from your free arm and touched his cheek before feeling everything slowly go dark. His face nuzzled into your hand. “I really love you.” His hand was shaking as he placed it over yours.

He was crying as he nodded his head. “I love you too.” He said between tears, but you had already fainted, leaving him even more desperate “Y/N? Y/N!! ANSWER ME!!” He started to scream, but he was pulled back when help arrived.

Jihoon was taken away by the other police officers while Jay held Jake who was disoriented and struggling when he saw that you weren't waking up.

“PLEASE CALM DOWN.” Jay yelled and Jake felt his body weaken as he watched you being put into an ambulance “She needs to go to the hospital, let them take care of her.”

“LET ME GO! I need to see her.” Jake said feeling his head hurt and Jay let go of him seeing the precarious situation Jake found himself in as he was kneeling on the floor.

“She's my best friend. I care about her too, man.” Jay looked at Jake in a friendly way and bent down holding his shoulders “But we need to trust them and make sure we finish our job so everything she did wasn't in vain.” Jake nodded and Jay got up offering his hand to Jake.

“C'mon let's finish everything and we'll go to the hospital, I'll take you.” Jake took Jay's hand and decided to trust him.

But even on the way to the hospital Jake couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his face.

After you went to the hospital and were stabilized and your life was out of any danger, Jake was called by Jay to give a statement at the police station as his last participation in the case.

Jake told him everything he knew in the last details so that all of this would finally be over and he could return to the hospital with the hope of seeing you wake up. Jay informed him that thanks to his help in arresting Jihoon they were able to identify the others involved and the main boss, solving the case, leaving Jake relieved.

“You are free to go.” Jay gave Jake a side smile after his statement “Your records and your friends’ records are clean. Thank you for your cooperation.” Jay shook Jake’s hand, who looked at him confused, trying to understand how this happened.

“What do you mean? I thought you just wanted my statement.” He said, squeezing Jay’s hand back.

“You know, I'm gonna be honest with you.” Jay sighed and leaned over the table, putting his arms over it. “Y/N did everything she could to get us to clear your records in exchange for your cooperation.”

Jake felt his heart melt with remorse at hearing this “I know it’s not easy for you to understand, but we had to do our job.” He looked at Jake with pity “She really cares about you guys, you can be sure of that.”

Jay laughed and Jake stared at him without saying anything “She always defended you guys and that's why we ended up fighting and she almost left the case because of it.” He smiled tenderly at Jake “I sincerely hope you understand her side.” He squeezed Jake's shoulder and he nodded.

“I didn’t know that.” He confessed, feeling his heart heavy when he remembered the last argument you both had. “Well, it’s understandable.” Jay sighed, crossing his arms “She has a tendency to keep all those feelings inside for the good of everyone, it’s a bad habit.”

Jake smiled for the first time “It really is.” Jay looked at him, noticing how dejected he was “She’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“I know, it’s just that I have so much to tell her.” He sighed and Jay stood up “So when she wakes up, you tell her everything.” Jake stood up and held Jay’s hand “And don’t let her get away anymore.”

Jake just nodded and smiled. “I won’t. Not anymore.”

☆

When you opened your eyes you were faced with the sight of a disconcerting light coming from the sun through the window while your head throbbed. You opened your eyes slowly feeling the soft mattress of the hospital bed and your shoulder ache slightly from the movement.

Looking to the side, your eyes widened when you saw Jake sitting in a chair and taking a nap. Your heart raced and you felt butterflies in your stomach at the sight.

His head was bowed while his arms were crossed. It was clearly not a comfortable position, but you wondered if you should wake him up or let him wake up naturally.

“Jake?” You called him in a low, delicate voice, trying not to scare him.

Jake opened his eyes slightly and ran his hand over his face before stretching. When he turned his face and saw your bright doe eyes looking at him, he felt his heart stop.

“Y/N?” He called your name as gently as possible before leaning down and touching your cheek gently “Can you speak?”

“Yes.” You nodded your head and tried to sit up, but the pain in your shoulder was unbearable. “Don’t get up, you’ve been out for 24 hours.” Your eyes widened, realizing that you had slept for a whole day “The doctors said you were very stressed and fatigued.”

It was obvious that you hadn’t been sleeping well since the argument with Jake, but you didn’t imagine it would be to the point of blacking out for an entire day. “I’m sorry.” Jake’s voice snapped you out of the trance you were in and he took your hand “I feel like this is my fault.”

“It’s not your fault.” You sighed, lacing your fingers through Jake’s knuckles “It’s my job.”

“Still, thank you for saving my life.” Jake’s eyes filled with tears “I don’t know if you remember what I said before,” You looked at him curiously, “but I wanted to repeat it.” He took a deep breath and looked at you with pure sincerity in his eyes. “I love you.”

Your heart raced to the point where you were afraid it would jump out of your ribcage. Memories of what you said before you passed out invaded your mind and you felt your body heat up. “I thought you would never forgive me.” You whispered, feeling the emotions take over your being and Jake shook his head, placing kisses on the back of your hand.

“I know, I was a jerk. I’m sorry for the things I said to you.” You saw how he looked at you tenderly “I was angry and lost my mind that day, but the truth is that I couldn’t live without you.” He said smiling “I love you so much and besides, you’re the bullet of my kingdom.” You laughed remembering your nickname.

“I was wrong too.” You played with his fingers “I could have told the truth before, but it wasn’t easy.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” He leaned closer and kissed your forehead “Let’s forget about this and have a fresh start.” You nodded and smiled happily “I would love that.”

He gave one of those smiles that broke your heart and touched his lips into yours in a long kiss. “Now rest, I'm going to call the nurse.” He said and you snuggled into the pillow trying to relax.

Even you wouldn't be able to believe everything that happened.

While you were recovering in the hospital, Jay and the boys came to visit you, bringing you candy, flowers, and cheering you up while you tried not to think about the gunshot you’d received. It would probably take you over a month to fully recover the movement of your shoulder, but you were grateful to be alive and to have been able to save Jake.

Jake wouldn't leave your side, except for the days he had to go home to work part-time and pick up more clothes to spend the night at the hospital. Even though everything had worked out, you still couldn't believe that you could finally experience everything you wanted without having to lie or pretend to be something you weren't.

Jake knew who you were and decided to stay, and that was all you needed to be able to live in peace.

Jay had also updated you on how the case was successfully closed, and because of Jihoon's connections they were able to track down the main boss. Inside you were happy, you had done your job and despite getting shot, everything ended well.

There was only one thing you knew you would miss, and you weren't ready to admit it out loud, but deep down you knew you would miss racing. The truth is that the environment of customized cars with modified engines had become natural and fun for you, and personally you would miss the competitions.

Maybe in the distant future, you would race again as bullet.

☆

1 MONTH LATER

You looked at the front of Jake's garage, feeling a nostalgic feeling invade your interior. From afar, you saw that Ni-ki and Jungwon were talking and laughing about something at the entrance.

A small smile formed on your face when you saw how well they looked. These boys had a place in your heart and you wouldn't be able to forget the time you spent together racing.

As you approached, Ni-ki was the first to notice your presence. His eyes widened and Jungwon followed his line of sight to see you arrive dressed in a police uniform.

“Wow, seeing you dressed like that is so weird.” The boy said and you laughed “What do you think?” Ni-ki watched as you turned around and clapped his hands “It kind of suits you, even though it’s a little scary.”

“You’ve always been so cool, I could never guess you were a cop.” Jungwon commented and Ni-ki agreed making you laugh “Hey! I’m still cool!”

From afar, Sunghoon and Heeseung watched the interaction at the garage door and looked at each other before seeing how Jake looked entertained by the car he was working on.

They approached the entrance and smiled at you “Hey man, check out this look.” Sunghoon elbowed Heeseung, pointing to your outfit “I’m seeing, bro. I smelled bad boots from afar.” You laughed and greeted the boys “It’s good to see you guys too.”

“Y/N, your uniform is giving me the creeps.” Sunghoon said, placing his hand on his chest. “Please don’t arrest me!” He put his hands together as if he were saying a prayer and you laughed “Don’t worry, I came in peace today.”

They laughed and watched how you were looking out for Jake “He’s back there.” Heeseung said and you smiled, thanking the boys “I’ll be right back, boys.”

“I know you won’t.” Sunghoon mumbled and Heeseung chuckled “But we’ll wait anyway.” Heeseung added and you smiled before heading towards Jake.

As you approached, a whirlwind of sensations took over your body as you recognized the place, and how Jake continued to look extremely handsome at his job. He was wearing a white tank top this time, and his dark brown hair fell perfectly over his forehead.

He turned his face expecting to see Sunghoon and smiled broadly when he saw it was you “What's up bullet.” Jake said in a mischievous tone coming closer and you smiled “What's up King.” Your voice made Jake’s insides stir with everything.

“What did I do to deserve the honor of your visit, officer?” He put his hands on your waist, pulling you towards him “I missed you, and I came to make you a proposal.” You showed a paper that you were holding and waved it in front of Jake “What is this?” He held the paper with one hand, looking at the contents curiously “We are recruiting drivers.” You ran your hand down Jake’s chest “Since you said you wanted to do things legally, I thought of you.” Jake smiled, seeing your eyes shine with a mischievous glow “Just for that?” He asked “And because I miss racing with you. There I said it.”

Jake laughed, placing his hand on the corner of your neck. “Yeah?” He leaned in and gave you a quick peck “And what do I get out of this?” He asked, brushing his lips over yours “You get a wonderful salary and an amazing car of your choice.” You looked at him and he bit his lower lip “What about you? Do I get you too?” He asked teasingly and you pulled his shirt. “You never lost me.” You whispered and he kissed you once more, enveloping you completely.

“Then I accept.” He smiled and looked you up and down “You know, you look pretty hot in that uniform.” You laughed and ruffled his hair “Really? You can see it better later then.” Jake smirked “If you keep looking at me this way, I'll let you arrest me.” You flicked his forehead and smiled “Careful or I’ll really arrest you, my king.”

“Get a room!” Ni-ki shouted from afar and the two of you looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

At the end of the day, this was your perfect happy ending: The two of you together, racing as King and Bullet, with no expiration date.

☆

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capslocked · 11 months ago

Text

PASCAL

male reader x karina & irene

part 1 of two roses, by every other name

28k words

It goes without saying that Karina’s reputation is flawless.

Irene’s is remarkably not.

You're not even staunchly a romantic or anything. You just can’t be assed to manage the distinction between desire and distance. So when the dust settles, the best case scenario is the three of you going around telling people, "all of this is actually a true story by the way."

You don't need the extra helping of moody and foreboding, but the wind picks up enough to chill you to the spot.

It blows some of the longer, darker strands of Irene's hair into her eyes and she shivers, too, against the cold as she tucks it behind her ears. You’ve got both hands balled into your coat pockets, watching her pretend like she isn't about to say something you absolutely do not want to hear. Then, a sigh - the length of which is probably unwarranted. You can feel the frost on the air burning through your teeth as you face back out toward the taxi stand.

It’s gotten late and you're still waiting on an empty cab - you’re realizing there was never a conversation to be had in the first place.

“For what it’s worth,” Irene says, and there’s an indecent proposal just in the way she glances at you. “I had my eyes on her first.”

It’s all on account of some sort of moral quandary, or whatever nonsense Irene pretends to believe every time it comes up. A gross power imbalance; an issue of innocence and entitlement; a threat of abuse. Something, another thing, patriarchal expectations, blah, blah - she fudges around the details, but never ever cares who gets hurt. Not really.

And it’s doubtful Irene believes what she says, not to mention she’s skeptical anyone is even capable of zipping their way down Karina’s denim, working a pair of hands up the contour of her long legs, and making her pant and gasp hard enough that she forgets to breathe.

Well, supposedly - that is anyone, save the two of you. Nevermind the fact she’s always, always been off-limits.

The bottom line is she's a whole decade younger than either of you. This just for starters - only legal for alcohol by some narrow margin. Because between you and your fiancée there are all these rules: no coworkers, no labelmates, no close mutual friends, no personal assistants, no jealous ex-lovers, and absolutely none of her juniors. It’s in poor taste, among other things.

Also, just as straightforward: crossing any number of those lines has its own kind of appeal.

"Okay,” you say, “then maybe you should be the one to tell her we’re taking her home."

Irene's arching her eyebrows at you like a silent rebuttal. She smiles after a laugh, quick and easy, because it's what she's good at. It's what she knows. “Like you weren’t hoping she’d be here, too."

The ash Irene taps off the end of her cigarette falls to the ground like snow. Hitting the pavement as if it might punctuate the thought. That's a rare first mistake from someone like you, and then a second one from her: she thinks she’ll need to defend herself with an explanation, like she’d ever need to justify anything to you.

“Besides, she’s not waiting for me to ask.” There’s a curl to her mouth - and then, she adds, for your benefit, "she'd follow you anywhere."

The twisted irony is that the two of you could pick up any woman, anyone at all.

"I think it’s a discussion for another day," you tell her, serious. She laughs out loud.

"Which one? Who Karina wants, or that you're aching every bit as much as I am to spread her out on our bed and fuck her? Because I'm pretty sure we can both agree that at this point-"

Your palm curls around the nape of her neck with a touch of on-your-feet-thinking: one of these moments that lets Irene sit with the knowledge of how small she really is against you, her head against the collar of your coat, chin angled just so to look up at your face. And there's only a beat that passes between your fingers in her hair, tugging gently as her hand releases to your waist, her teeth clipping against the press of your lips, before a cab pulls up right next to you. You kiss her hard. It probably looks cinematic.

If for nothing other than to give Karina one less thing to overhear when she comes back outside to join you.

"Really not the time," you whisper right into the subtle twist of her grin. Her cigarette's gone out in the snowy mess, but Irene smirks deeper in response before throwing it onto the wet concrete. She grinds it beneath her boot like a reminder, her hand still firm on your hip.

"What, you don't think it’d make her day? Don’t think she'd want to hear all those kinds of thoughts running together through our heads?"

You pull Irene in closer. “She’s not you.”

For context - only so you’re aware how it all starts - it wasn’t actually New Year’s Eve, even though everyone had been drinking like it were.

Also for context, it’s not something you were strictly invited to either. Irene’s company holds this holiday party at the end of every year where all of their employees show up (read: idols; Irene likes to argue about work sometimes - to which you have never contested the value of her labor - but your brain tends to fuzz out in the middle, and instead you mostly just watch her pretty mouth in motion). All of the high-up executives and department heads bring their uptight wives and girlfriends to some restaurant ballroom for a cocktail reception that only really functions for name dropping, or influencing the media, or placing side bets on who is sleeping with the CFO - or whose mistress might show up unexpectedly and meet someone's wife face-to-face for the very first time.

It happens to someone Irene knows, once. You pray every year it will happen again.

Be that as it may, there are a plethora of other terrible ways to spend an evening and a half, but it’s all laid bare in Irene's contract - attendance being mandatory; enjoyment excessively optional.

And sure, it’s taken time, but you have gotten used to it: the industry, all of its excess, the inevitable display, the million and one things required of Irene that you, on the other hand, will simply never be able to relate to.

The machine’s so fine-tuned and tightly wound, like clockwork.

"Yeah, whatever," she had said, leaning her hip against your bathroom sink earlier in the day. Her dress laid out neatly across your bed, already pressed, set with her heels and jewelry, everything set on schedule to the point of absurdity.

And so it goes.

You can hear her brushing her teeth through the open door - and see her profile through the hand-swiped-fog on the mirror. She drags the toothbrush to the corner of her mouth: "And before you even ask, yes, you have to come. That's the deal. That's always been the deal - bored, or busy, or trapped talking to some social climbing board member who’s realized the liquor flows fast and free - I don’t wanna hear about it. You’ll be there."

"Uh-huh," you say, eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror.

"Look, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” she adds, spits, and lets the faucet run, “but this one’s shaping up to be a really long night.”

You watch the meticulous effort to pull her dark hair back into a low, neat bun as she turns and comes back into the bedroom, tossing her hair clip onto the bed to reclaim later.

“So I guess, pace yourself or something.”

"Ever the salesman, Irene," you say, facetious.

"Um, saleswoman, thank you." Her words are slightly muffled by a silk tank top pulled on over her head, then down the flat length of her body until it hits the tops of her thighs.

It’s not a matter of opinion that she'll look gorgeous in the stilettos, the dress - those earrings that catch light wherever it dares touch her. She'll smile her practiced grin. It'll probably taste sour after the hundredth person asks how long it's been and she tells them she can't remember. But then look - Irene here, still perfectly disheveled: her damp-darkened hair sticking to the porcelain skin of her neck, skin washed free of makeup. She’s beautiful. In a plain and simple way, simple-but-good. Even with the tight little scowl she shoots your direction. It’s a look she has to know could launch a thousand ships; could start a real, actual war; though you're far too charming to know how to fight - you’ve never seen the appeal.

Irene's teeth tug at the corner of her lip like she knows you'd probably end up dying in it. She puts forward this unassuming, nonchalant, “hey.”

She muses it right into a laugh. Covers her genuine smile with her fingers.

"Hey," is how you answer, always.

You’re noticing, now, the strap of her top has fallen just down the petite slope of her shoulder. You want to get your fingers beneath it. Maybe get her back in the shower. You’re never too picky.

And here: an unspoken demand, the thing that always gets you about her - while Irene stands in front of you, her finger looped between the top buttons of your shirt to draw you close. The bow of her lip perked ever-so-slightly, this soft pucker - all pretty in pink. "Before I slip into this dress, you’re going to push me against something sturdy and kiss me until I'm dizzy," she instructs, calm and methodical.

"A lot," you continue for her. You nod seriously, for a moment. "Dizzying."

She closes her eyes and leans in, and you lean into her, too. "Yeah, exactly," she ends up murmuring under a hot breath. "So, get to it.”

And so it goes, and so it goes.

"Have a drink," someone keeps saying.

As a matter of fact, they all do: four shots together - or one old-fashioned, or two vodka seltzers, or three of these mystery concoctions that come in a tall-stemmed glass you didn’t actually catch the name of, and jesus, it fucking reeks of prosecco. You pace yourself, within reason. You really do.

Irene gets elusive under the surface, which is to say, she doesn't change at all - not even at the edges.

And though everyone is here to be seen, only a few actually do any of the talking. Irene has it covered - you do your time.

Happy New Year, sorta. You wait it out.

She tastes like everything sweet, strong on her heels and sharper on her tongue - and sometimes, it’s not the best mix, given all you can manage is the touch and scent of Irene without actually getting at the insides of her thighs or that tempting stretch of skin under her ear, her neck, down to her chest.

This much, and she has no complaint - hardly seems surprised or inconvenienced - to you stepping her into the wall like it's a matter of instinct.

She just sighs, a short huff. "Don't miss these kinds of parties," she then confesses, right into your mouth, her warm exhale filling you whole. The sounds of people laughing and champagne glasses clicking nearby, a new song starting up, it's all an unnecessary backdrop, and Irene isn't distracted by a single bit of it.

Character, setting, scene; it’s all rather textbook, no?

You know what the sounds mean, the soft hums, the lingering touches, the firm press of your palm into the dip of her waist or the slender line of her back. She knows where all the cameras are because she knows everything that anyone could possibly ever want to know, such as the fact that this empty stairwell is a perfect place to start, that there isn't a real plan as to where this might go - or when it should end.

And you should know where not to press - or bite or grab or leave a mark - not in some liminal space, nor some vacant practice-room, not beneath a desk, not behind a curtain. No, not here, cloaked in shadow and secrecy, another scandal in the making. Not that the knowledge stops you from testing out the lines, from drawing little patterns up Irene's waist, slipping one hand along the barest skin where her dress has hitched up along her thigh. To a boundary, the low pitch of her voice, some suggestion like, "not here, are you serious?" mumbled across your lips like it really doesn't matter what gets said or does not.

She’s pinned so properly, so precisely, that the discord between her gentle coaxing, and your hard, bruising edge - that sheer incongruity between what you should do and what you should not - can make the adrenaline spike.

She kisses you harder - and harder, and harder. She catches the small sigh you let out. She kisses you breathless.

You can’t shake the feeling that you’re wasting an opportunity, given that you’re both dressed to the nines and are usually more homebody than anything else. Isn’t that the irony of fame? You sign up for an escape, and spend your life running away.

Irene eventually sinks back into the soles of her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist, and she smiles so easy. She tugs at the cuffs of your jacket, sets your collar flat and proper.

"I'm thinking," you hear her say, taking stock for herself, the flush high in her cheeks, the tousled sort-of-curls now bared, "in half an hour, if you feel like leaving early, we could, oh, I don't know - escape?"

Escape to a bed with a door that locks, you assume she means. Irene wants; you deliver - however she'd like.

“Sounds tempting,” you tell her. She laughs against your shoulder. "Are you waiting on someone else to sweep you off your feet, maybe? Another offer?"

"Uh, always," she scoffs. It's the little things, confidence, and certainty, the honest-in-practice; how her palms sit soft and secure, cupping the angle of your jaw, one hand, now, toying with the knot of your tie like she's contemplating just how it might fall off of you later. Irene shrugs, leaning her weight back against the wall.

She taps a finger to her lips. Ends up saying, very solemn: "Thirty minutes."

As if you had any intention of absconding without her.

Irene holds true to her word - she catches you on the second to last pass around the banquet room. Some executive with a slack mouth is just launching into what sounds to be a spiel about a merger - it's unimportant, not well-versed, so Irene sidles up to you, and immediately steals your attention. It doesn't bother you in the least. She curls her finger into the cuff of your jacket sleeve, and without really being prompted or asked - and only, probably, due to the clear discomfort she has being there with anyone else - she begins dragging you out of the room; you, her ticket out of hell.

"I'm so sorry," Irene dons the industry smile and is probably charming. It's difficult for you to tell. You follow her blindly. "So sorry," she tells someone else as you exit, just before you both disappear entirely, "We're leaving. But, we'll see you next year, promise!"

A real celebrity.

The two of you suddenly a duo - and for everyone’s safety, the way it should probably always ought to be - here’s how it’s all supposed to go:

You, standing almost amidst a bank of snow gathered at the curb, your coat fanned out around Irene, shivers racking up her slight frame. All hidden just enough that if anyone were to notice where your hand ends up arriving at the narrow of her waist, they might think: 'it's not really any of my business,' and look away.

Her, curled beneath your touch - even the single press of your fingers over the small of her back as a stranger pulls a car up to the curb; or, the pull of you that ensures the driver can't actually see what you're both up to, what you're hiding; the little reach she makes into your pocket for a lighter, smiling appreciatively as she presses her cold face to the crook of your arm, your jaw, the juncture of your neck; a safe space.

“So.” Irene will look up at you, pale moonlight gathered in her lashes. She’ll make another face: this thousand kilowatt grin or her brow raising - sharp, quick, there-then-gone. She'll turn the lighter over in her hand once, twice, and say, “how long has it been since we’ve done anything social?”

You’ll know it’s not what she means, but you’ll offer her the out anyway: "could go downtown - there's a place you've probably never been to. Might even play your style of music, if you're really lucky."

Irene will arch her eyebrow as she raises the cigarette to her mouth, lit up before you know it.

"Is that right?" she'll say, dismissive, a smoky tendril curling up over city neon and catching starlight.

You're no stranger to what’s actually being suggested - an unspoken sort of arrangement. All because Irene sees herself as being above, hiding her intentions in euphemism, tact; in long, slow drags; in lilting lashes - while she's fully and shamelessly aware there's nothing virtuous about it.

Who the hell else could make it sound dignified, pretty even: ménage à trois.

Then, you’ll do your part. You’ll help interpret: another girl, gorgeous and probably unclothed, another bad decision, or two, the three of you finding yourselves back in your apartment where Irene will not hesitate to run her tongue up the side of a sweat-glistened neck, to tilt her head and whisper out a mantra of, honey, sweetie, anybody ever tell you how good you look between a woman’s legs? Or, fuck, let’s get you out of those jeans, let me take you all in, how the fuck have we not gotten our hands on you before?

Which means the question you really ought to be asking sounds more like, “maybe we can invite someone over?”

You’ll meet her eyes as they flick up - a lazy expression, easy to read. "Bingo," she’ll say, blowing smoke and even more caution to the wind.

Almost to a fault, everything she does draws attention. Every fool with a blog and a camera posted outside of an event will have her labeled on-sight. You can already see the headline - because the only thing worse than everyone thinking you're the antagonist is looking the part. The imagery, red carpet, sexy evening dress, sultry, regal. The caption, Bae Joohyun - they use her government name like they really know her - sulking in smoke, or thirty flirty and thriving? below a thumbnail of her holding the cigarette, with your suit jacket draped over her shoulders. She's a total tabloid darling. Irene the temptress, or Irene, ice in her veins, or Irene - "How does she look so fucking gorgeous without makeup?!" or "Do I wanna hate her, or wanna be her? @RedFlavor_ROYAL," or "In every shot I feel like Irene has me staring into her soul."

Add that to the fact the girl’s utterly shrouded in myth.

Everyone running amuck with speculation; she's the girl-next-door, she’s the fantasy-in-real-life, she's someone everyone could see themselves fucking - she’s the heroine they say, the villain, the perfect wife, the one-that-got-away. They never do decide.

Though there’s only one opinion she’ll concern herself with, and only on occasion: yours.

Her fingers will come in the dark to trail feather-light from your collarbone, between the rise and fall of your shirt buttons, before pressing open palmed to your chest to still right there, and she's such a pretty thing in the plain black dress, all yours and very much in the mood - which you'll already have reason to know, in part from having felt your way around her no more than a hour prior, but also just the way Irene's been looking at you from beneath her dark lashes all evening, that subtle predatory gleam in her eyes.

You’ll hold her close. Irene will have the audacity to comment, “love you,” in this delicate little whisper, quiet like it could go either way - affection or gratitude. Maybe a touch of both.

A car will shortly arrive, pulling up to the curb with snow melting under its tires, headlights in your eyes, and then finally, in no particular order, your heart hammering: the click of the lighter, the falling ash, the sweet easy laugh, the crunch of ice under foot as she steps down beside you, the soft sweep of your arm.

You have no complaints about the proposal. A lack of argument or dispute is basically the same thing as consent, isn't it? For all intents and purposes, as a whole, it's really kind of a win-win:

Irene needs variety, which you're well aware of. It's only natural for someone who can have anything they want. And, sure, you happen to be a willing participant when it comes to satisfying the occasional whim.

So - the conversation will follow you right into the backseat of the cab, simply to iron out the details.

“Tall. Beautiful. Soft, soft, soft - like cashmere, a luxury brand," Irene will have one heel off and her knee braced up into the back seat while the other leg extends across your thighs, fingers running along your coat collar to make idle circles against the exposed skin there. "Or, at the very least, someone with a little more bend to their character - you know how those prim and proper types always get a bit lost in you.”

"And wouldn’t you know."

It’ll sound smooth, probably. Irene will roll her eyes.

“So, okay,” you'll return to her, right after instructing the cabbie how to get to Irene's place. None of the implications here are lost on you. “You have anyone particular in mind?”

"Hm, I’m thinking."

You can picture it, roughly: Irene's whole body sunk into the dark corner of the seat - one leg idling over the other. Her foot bouncing at your thigh. She has her heels in one hand, earrings in the other.

She’ll look wistfully out the window; the intermittent flashes of city lights casting her face in different hues. The curve of her jaw; the stately line of her nose; her thick black lashes - composition and subject. It's this kind of attention to detail that the cameras scramble to pick up. It’d be better if they got it for the right reasons.

You’ll pull out your phone. Start the usual scroll from the top of your contacts. The girls you know, the girls you don't, the ones who might be awake or who definitely are, regardless of time of day or night.

Irene will finally perk up, gleaming.

Someone cute, she might say, only because she'd rather not admit, someone like me. There's limits to her vanity insofar as her taste - in all sorts of things.

But she does like the idea of it. Someone young and pretty and impressionable; someone naive, or tiny and helpless; it's never difficult to find the girl who will fawn over her - all wide-eyed and doe-faced the instant Irene floats her fingers across her collarbone, smirking - when she starts at the zipper at the back of her neckline and says, "we’re going to see how wet I can get you," without missing a beat. Someone who will eventually say please when Irene gets a little stern and tells her, "ask me what I'm gonna do to you," in a rasp so smoky that it would make the cigarette seem blasé.

But that, you suppose, is the nature of Irene. A touch domineering. A little more than just a pretty face.

She always takes, but she takes gently - a push here, a pull there, she knows people will give her anything.

It will be more obvious when there's a small voice trembling between the two of you, twisted up in your sheets and simpering with the gentle sort of affection that Irene deals so expertly: two fingers sliding up, pressing down. Curling, beckoning. Slow and tender, without giving up that she's looking for any soft spot; a weak point. Some vulnerability to exploit.

It'll be right after whichever plaything of the hour pulls her lips off yours, off the length of your fingers - or when she unfastens her mouth from the hard shape of your cock with an obnoxiously loud pop: "do you guys do this kind of thing often?"

And Irene, without even an ounce of hesitation, will rip right into the sheer of her stockings, letting out an aggressively casual laugh. She’ll plant a kiss somewhere deep. Say, "oh, honey," as she nuzzles into the crease of her thigh. "We're pretty new to this too."

Everyone, just - believes her. For the same reason you suppose they believe she's perfect. She’s good, really good at all this.

In the taxi, Irene's foot will continue to tap against your leg, until you're stopping her by covering her knee with your hand. As for now, the evening will remain all but written in stone. You'll run a hand through your hair, you’ll lean an elbow against the window - the whole while, ignoring the sudden itch between your shoulder blades at the thought of something else. At the thought of all the other girls who'll take an instant liking to her. Who wouldn't.

The light will change. The intersection will empty. The radio will turn to static.

You'll eventually offer up a name like, "Jennie Kim," among others. Moving alphabetically down your contacts list. Taking you a long while to make it through the 'K's.

"Hm." Irene's soft hum of disapproval, non-committal. "Are you asking, or telling?"

The difference won't matter. "I'm suggesting," you'll say.

You’ll watch how Irene turns the name over in her mouth a few times before smiling - how she knows, there's the smallest part of you that has her held in a certain light. "Maybe," she'll say, tapping her phone against her cheek in the contemplation of whether or not this is a tentative no or a provisional yes - when really what she'll avoid an answer with is, "aren’t we a little tired of Jen?"

Tough to say.

Good, sweet, and just naive enough to get twisted up between you, in her case. Oh, Jennie’s the type of girl - you'll stuff your cock in her pretty little cunt while leaning into her, taking her arms and pinning them to the base of her spine, so she can't reach and can't claw and can't make an utter fucking wreck of herself. The two of you have known Jennie for too long, is what will strike you then. And a moment later, the idea of sinking into her ass from behind with your palm flat and warm against her hip and your voice husky and deep in the way she likes, and saying, god, fuck, Jen, you’d let me do anything wouldn’t you, you’d let me cum in here too.

And - she would, really.

She wouldn't even complain. Her face would be pressed so firmly against Irene's thighs, and she would whimper, not beg. Even though you know it’s what Irene might prefer; how it makes her look real cute - cheeks stained crimson as the syllables roll around her tongue before being forced out into the open.

"I think she's great," you might say out loud, lowkey.

And in a voice that is louder than strictly necessary, Irene will cut in: "she lets you finish in her ass, and then not even three minutes later she'll say it was the best lay of her life, of course you do."

It’ll make the cab driver clear his throat.

"What you’re saying is ‘no.’"

Irene will frown, thoughtful, but not conceding anything - perhaps she means hold onto that thought for now. If nothing else sounds particularly enticing, we'll call it a maybe. "I’m saying: Jennie is. I don't know."

You can hear the end of her sentence: not quite good enough. Not this time around, but someday, sure, someday soon.

"And for the record," Irene will follow, casual, with a dismissive hand wave. "Just because you got to her first doesn't mean she's ever liked you more."

The few that fall afterwards will never make the cut. Irene will turn them all down. Jisoo - no, sorry, look, she's so, so pretty, Irene will be trying to explain, gesturing in a way that's hard to interpret. "But a little too stuck up for my tastes."

You've been speaking in code for years. She means: way, way, way too straight.

"The blonde though," Irene will try right after that. “Daisy, or Lily, oh god something or another, what was her name-”

"Um, do you mean Rosé?”

“Yeah.” Irene will sink back into the leather, sipping down a memory or two and shifting her skirt up the top of her thighs.

You'll consider the angle. Your options: Rosé on her knees right inside the foyer of your apartment, Irene's hands wrapped tightly in her hair, controlling the rhythm. The way she gets her fingers spread under Irene's knees and draws her forward, pushing up with her eager, prying mouth - licks and licks, nosing against the heat of Irene's pussy until she’s gasping and locking her hands around the younger girl's head to steady the jerk of her hips.

Then, you'll laugh out loud. Because you know, Rosie isn’t anywhere close to straight enough.

And the back-and-forth of what-ifs and could-bes will follow. An endless string, a laundry list. Where Irene makes a face for every name, every suggestion: too messy, or too innocent, or too sweet, or too boring, or not nearly shy or gullible enough, or whatever other bizarre caveat she finds to slot between all of her impassioned criticisms. The cabbie will be shaking his head at some point too, because the question hangs over the taxi at large:

What exact criteria could possibly be good enough for the distinguished tastes and sensibilities of Bae Irene?

(The truth is: it doesn’t go like that at all.)

Enter then, Yu Jimin.

The run-in starts there, downstairs, out standing in a pool of warm, yellow light. The snow flurrying about in the glow of a street lamp - melting into where her smoothed curtain of jet-black hair spills over her shoulder and trickles down her sleeve. She looks a little cold, but not noticeably shivering. There's a red flush to the exposed length of her legs, between a pair of knee-high boots and the short hem of the coat itself. The stockings underneath offer little in the way of wintery protection - nor do the little bows that rest at the the bands of elastic around her soft, pale thighs - though it's obvious to anyone who's looking why she'd choose to wear them.

An assay into form over function. She's never cared for pragmatism.

But the lines around her are pristine, a clean-cut of shadow and substance; you take a step onto the curb, feeling yourself fall right into the foreground.

Look: you know Karina. You both do. Enough to recognize where it’s calmest before a storm.

Irene eventually calls out her name into the silence, and there is a split-second where her fingers reflexively wrap around the crook of your elbow. Almost possessive.

A car rushes by. Karina turns with her ungloved hand holding her cellphone to her ear and she's fucking gorgeous as can be, always pinning you with these big, unapologetic eyes - strikingly and somewhat deceptively innocent beneath her sharp brows. A breathy huff in response; she's otherwise unaffected.

Her shoulders shrug in easy dismissal; a quirk of the corners of her mouth. She slips her phone back in the pocket of her pea-coat. "Oh, how we all doing?"

Not for long, the question lingers.

"Fine," Irene finally replies, though her voice doesn't rise above a disinterested murmur.

"Easier, right? To fight for breath down here than it is up there," she says, pointing her gaze up high into the rafters of the building, and in a lot of ways, you realize, she's just like Irene - sweet, charming, this uncanny ability to make you think she's close, when she isn't actually looking to share anything. When she hasn't exactly decided that she likes you or anything at all.

You squint slightly. Take in where her silhouette appears darker against the backdrop of city lights, blending with the velvety black, bleeding into the ink-smudged night sky.

"There's certainly something to be said for flying under the radar at these things," she continues, taking one step closer towards you as if for comfort. Or privacy - to guard against anyone who might walk by.

"You've still got it easy," Irene says, "that, and everyone thinks you're too pretty to go after. No one even seems to consider the idea, it’s insufferable."

"Jealous?" Her tone is playful. There’s a smirk she’s suppressing - until she can’t hold it in: an unexpected, stunning smile, dimple and all. This incongruously kind face.

Oh, and listen, no one gets it better than Irene.

"No," Irene exhales, hot. “Not at all.” You can see where the thin plume of her breath hangs over her like a cloud for a moment, thinking, before dissipating against the harshness of a frigid December breeze.

"Really." She smiles at you again. Makes a sound that could be a laugh, you don’t know, the wind takes it, far away.

"Are you out here waiting for someone?" you have to ask.

"Loaded question." Karina purses her lips for a moment. Her long eyelashes blink once, twice. "Because, I dunno, aren't we all?"

"Some of us more than others." Irene speaks quietly, moreso to herself than anyone else - but somehow her voice carries.

"Cheeky," Karina says, and this time she does laugh. "No. I'm waiting for a cab. I've had one hell of a night, and no interest in spending the rest of it in some rising socialite's bed, doubters excluded, because - look, I'm happy for you guys, I guess? You're gonna get married," she claps slowly, slow and mocking, slow enough that Irene rolls her eyes, "-or, the two of you will make a statement saying that you are - either way it sounds fucking exhausting - congratulations to you both. But seriously, congrats."

This is sorta how you've always known her.

Faintly-hinted secrets, flirty half-truths. Her love life is an utter wreck, but that’s not something you’re supposed to know. So that's all she gives, which is more or less how everyone knows her. It's the only way to survive, probably, in a world of glitter and glamour, when everyone's vying to look, to feel, to take, and take, and take. Irene knows how suffocating it can be - she doesn’t lie about it, not to you, which is the only reason you're so well-versed.

Point being, no one wants to admit to any cracks in the fantasy; the gold too shiny, the surface too slick, the mirror too smooth for that illusion to slip.

"So go grab a guy with a half-decent smile and get him to buy you a drink about it," Irene suggests, derisive, "arch your back, push your tits out, get creative. I doubt it'll be much trouble at all."

Karina looks down, back up - with a slight chew of her lip, saying, "you just have me beat in all the important ways, I suppose. You got it in the bag, no real competition."

Irene is smiling, but her expression is unimpressed; it doesn’t mean much, really, to be her friend, her colleague, or worse, her opponent. Irene is calm like an evening in July, a low, cool, languid feeling. "I don't mean to be a prick, but, aren't you a little young to be so jaded?"

"Gosh," Karina’s grin doesn’t change, but does turn a touch wicked, like she's biting back. "I'd hate to be around when you do mean to be a prick, but maybe we'll find out - you know, down the line, someday.”

Irene tuts softly. It sounds patronizing. "Please, you'll have to forgive me - for mistaking you for someone more aware of how the rest of us work."

“You're one to talk, Irene."

“Careful,” Irene warns.

"What, you gonna set me straight?"

"Right." The way the word rolls off Irene's tongue, slow, thick, bitter, like molasses; like the coffee she has when she's tired, like the cigarette she swears left and right she’s cutting out and the vodka she needs you to reach for in the upper cabinets, like the person she is after midnight when you've let her keep drinking to find the limits to her inhibition. You understand Irene too well. And no matter what anyone says, you will not have the facts wrong.

There's no kindness to the way she laughs. None.

She tilts her head to you, grinning: an honest grin, her favorite thing - inimitable, unique, and hers alone; her version of cruelty is what will always have them doubting. You hold her gaze as she adds, "of all things, right now - wouldn’t you just love to set her straight?"

Depending on who you ask, you’ll get different results.

Irene insists you kissed Karina first, probably out there in the snow - god knows how cliche would that be.

She also insists that it was you who suggested that “there’s a lot more sense in splitting a cab,” and then minutes later, “please, it'd be no trouble, just let us pay. Our place is five blocks that way," and Irene - being Irene - mentioning it's actually quite a bit further, but hey, it isn’t worth splitting hairs over. And it's not worth explaining - she shuts you up with another kiss, pressing her weight hard up against you, the arm she slings around your neck.

Then in a sort of mythologized version of the timeline, it's you who makes the proposition - invites Karina upstairs, with the charm that Irene knows is usually reserved for her benefit alone: that slight tick of the brow, the delicate slant of your mouth, the confidence you seem to have in thinking no one will ever say no, no matter how brusque the invitation-

"You two are unbelievable. Is this really your standard procedure?" Karina asks, once you're through the door, or maybe during a bout of smalltalk in the kitchen. Something flirtatious; and suggestive, and maybe a little offhand. A pointed glance downwards, back up. All it really will take. "You get some girl into your home and they're just so overwhelmed and dazzled and in love, they can't even make eye contact for longer than a second? Because that's quite a line," a soft huff, the exhale that seems to carry the faintest note of a sigh. You could call it wistful. Just this side of romantic; very attractive.

“That’s more or less the gist of it,” you offer.

“You’d be surprised.” Irene is lingering on it, back against the counter beside you, laughing. "Some people are more than happy to be swept off their feet."

"Imagine that. If that's how this is meant to go, then tell me," and Karina lifts her chin, a breath drawn slow and deliberate, "what exactly do prince and princess charming do next?"

Consider that Karina’s interpretation of events is closer to reality: no pretense. She is not drunk, and in this story, she never will be.

But it's the slow-burn thing, the rivals-to-lovers thing, the sexual-tension-through-conflict thing, the white-hot-blistering-rage matter gone awry. Not a series of happy accidents, but a result of intentional circumstance - this slow arc of descent. She knows exactly how Irene is tightly wound, and which thread to pull to make everything start to unravel. She'd flirt with you right under her nose - say things in this obnoxiously girlish tone, pout a lot, lean into so much innuendo it becomes impossible to miss the meaning, or the sincerity behind it.

If you had to guess - Karina’s been pining since forever, since Irene accidentally etched her DNA into the girl upon saying, carelessly, that she’d always seen some part of herself in Karina. Probably around the time Irene wrapped a palm over an expanse of bare thigh, just beneath the hem of her skirt, telling her, you're getting way too pretty for your own good.

Doesn’t matter who you are, that’ll fuck you up for real.

And it's not just how she looks at Irene when she thinks no one is watching either; swings and roundabouts, Karina probably can’t keep the thought of you sprawled out over Irene’s petite little frame, or Irene kissing you hard while wrapped around you tight. Your hand, her hand, intertwined and picturesque, sliding down Irene's stomach. Together - and so very without her - fingertips stroking lightly over Irene’s clit, gently dipping inside her.

Irene is not stupid. She picks up on everything, and there's a lot to unpack:

"Can you believe it? Minjeong just asked me if I've ever kissed a girl before," Karina had said to you once, ages ago, between a workout or dance practice, something or another - she was wearing a loose-fit tank top and very intent on showing off. She seemed then to be taking mental note of the face Irene put on, the look of someone trying to hold in an aneurysm.

“Well,” you played along, because you’re not really without blame here either. "Have you?"

"Oh my god." Karina knew what she awas doing, the playful slap to the chest, the lingering touches she’d have on you every chance she could get - total fucking coquette - anything to get a rise out of you, your fiancée. She hushed her voice down to this strategic whisper that Irene could just overhear: "of course not."

You better believe Irene broke her composure not soon afterwards, after Karina made her exit.

"Do not fuck her," she demanded, firm, "I don't care how good you think she might be in bed, or what she would probably let you get away with."

You remember the knit of her brow.

“Do not.”

You’re sighing, profoundly. The memory - not to mention its shocking clarity - has put a smug sort of satisfaction into your bones, indulging. The nip to Karina's jaw, a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her shoulder. A hand tracing down the curve of her hips, under the guise of helping her settle between the cushions of the couch. You feel like you catch the color flooding her cheeks. Then, Irene, her pretty little shadow: the steady presence over her other shoulder.

"What." Karina sounds defensive when Irene pulls her lips away, but the hand she has buried in Irene's hair doesn’t appear to be going anywhere. "Are we going to pretend for a minute I don't see the way you're both looking at me right now?"

"Don't be stupid, darling, of course not." Irene leans up close again. Kisses up her neck, behind her ear, and coos, "the two of us, you just seemed like you were needing someone, that's all," and then whispers the words, barely audible: "I mean look, who wouldn't want the three of us right now?"

Karina hums. "Ah, so - you think I deserve to have a little fun."

"Maybe," she draws it out a little longer.

Your hands dip below her knees, running over the silk-slick surface, tugging at the frills lining her thighs - feeling up over the outline of where her body curves under her dress. Over the dark pattern printed across the front.

Karina swallows visibly, her head dropping back against the armrest, the couch cushion; by the way she shudders slightly and starts breathing, you realize that it's probably been a while since she's had much experience being in a position this helpless. You draw your fingers lightly across the bareness of her skin, right as Irene finds that sensitive spot just where her neck slopes to her collarbone. You trace along the fabric until you have her squirming beneath you both.

She sucks in a breath as Irene drags a touch right over the obvious seam, across the expanse of her hip, and despite your fiancée being a tad forward -

"Both of you should know I'm not that type of girl. Who puts out so easily-"

"Likewise," Irene practically sneers, not missing a beat and threading her fingers beneath her jaw, feeling her pulse against the pad of her thumb.

"Yeah, well. If this isn't a setup, then, what-"

“A setup.” Irene breathes the word out, contemptuous, which is almost as if she says yes, you figured it out, and she starts to lean in closer - the distance between the two of them now negligible as her mouth tightens with her derision. "That is awfully conceited of you."

"Ha."

You choose right there to run your palm between her thighs and cup at the front of her pussy through the skirt of her dress, squeezing tightly. There has to be an element of good cop, bad cop to this whole routine, and you'd be remiss not to participate in the former. Irene's glare is starting to become pretty intimidating.

"The way I see it," you begin, and it's so gentle. Easy to slip through, but easy enough to grip - no threat, or indication that she should stop rocking forward to the motion of your fingers, toying idly. "There's no catch. Only: Irene calls the shots. If you end up with a crush, or worse, think you're in love," a light squeeze to illustrate the point, the dig of nails, not too rough, but definitely drawing attention. "You've gotta walk it off.”

Karina just runs her tongue across her lips, sighing.

“No strings attached, no special treatment. Or anything."

"Oh." Karina is looking straight at you, dazed - as your fingers work harder, picking up where her hips started rolling a second before. She licks her lips. "You're telling me that I'm going to get fucked so thoroughly here, that it's gonna be a problem."

"Actually," you pull away, pushing her dress up so you can touch up ever higher this time. Rooting between her soft thighs. "I can't make any guarantees. You'll need to convince us first."

There's a laugh, from a spot inside her diaphragm - and yeah, there's no denying the reality here. She's nervous; or excited; or nervous-excited. Karina just lets it pass, an exaggerated sound in her throat, before gasping on an exhale of breath: "convince you to fuck me?"

"Between us, we've kissed our fair share of pretty girls in the heat of the moment," Irene supplies.

Karina laughs. Starts saying, "in that case, can I start by confessing that this whole exchange has left me pretty fucking wet-"

You slip one finger down the rise of her panties, this lacy little number she probably picked out with sordid fantasy in mind.

"Oh god," she says, voice drowned in her throat, husky, and sultry - it’s really hard not to appreciate the girl, like this - and then she closes her eyes, saying it again, "oh, yeah, like - like that. Okay, thank you."

Irene puts a hot kiss into her lips, and a subjugating silence stills over the living room, softening around her small voice, her breathing. Everything comes together so seamlessly, so effortlessly:

The click of Irene’s heels against hardwood, these soft sounds of wet tongues twisting and bodies grinding, Karina's face, buried somewhere under Irene's chin, letting out the cutest moan. Irene's helping the rest of the dress up over Karina's ass, then up past her waist, pulling down the scalloped elastic of her stockings. She grabs hold of her hips, feeling the draw of her curves there - you watch how your other half does the thing she does best, the thing where she strips a girl down to nothing like she's doing them a favor.

"Pretty," Irene appraises her naked body - not her face, not her mind, not her ambition or the strength of her determination, or god forbid, something banal like her personality, but, "fuck, look at you, look at this figure," her palm skates along the plane of her stomach, "so pretty."

It could be the insinuation: Irene is ready to reduce the girl down to a heap of jumbled nerves; to tears, probably - given half the chance. Like she's telling her a body as flawless and well-manicured and sweetly receptive to being toyed with as hers needs to get absolutely wrecked, among other things.

(Fucked so deeply, and to the point of utter exhaustion - the point is that she forgets her own name.)

Irene knows just by looking, her eyes tracing down each and every one of Karina’s curves like they’re taking inventory. It could be as simple as a handprint seared into her ass, a stinging red stain etched into her soft, creamy white skin, marking the insides of her thighs, her beautiful fucking tits - oh, the things the two of you could do.

"How do you want it, exactly?" Irene's eyes are dancing around her face, in her stare, darting down, then back up. "How, baby."

Karina smiles against Irene’s lips like she knows the answer, the perfect one. She must already have the script prepared. It's no stretch of the imagination: "anything, as long as it means you both keep looking at me."

Because maybe it's down to the pure physicality of it all. Something Karina's been waiting to feel, desperate to have, for some time - as you set into action, dismantling any pretense that you weren’t about to devour the heat of her aching cunt, from running touches all over her slick pussy. It’s a strong theory, you figure, from the visceral response you get when you get start to fuck her, when you slide a finger inside: tight and snug, and so unbelievably wet.

“Oh,” she breathes out, and it sounds sated and needy all at once.

You make sure to glance at her face before pressing another into her. All the way past the knuckles. She looks lost to the feeling, the pleasure; her expression gone hazy-eyed as you start fucking into her with a few steady pumps of your wrist - slow and then faster, then faster again - fucking into her with increasing urgency.

Just to keep her gasping, panting.

Like a woman starved for it.

"God," Irene kisses softly into her mouth. Her hand tangled in Karina's hair, twisting strands between her fingers and tugging just shy of something painful, "you're really sensitive, aren't you?"

Karina nods, slightly. It’s all she can manage.

You have a soft spot for girls who will spread themselves open like they can't wait, but still end up flustered over how your lips ghost across aching flesh. Who can't even form the words - asking for this, and that, and a million little things; and look at Karina - blushing, her eyes fluttering closed, and digging her nails into the couch the moment you finally put your hot mouth on her. Her entire body is drawn taut like a live wire.

"Relax," you coax, speaking more to the muscle - her legs tensed, and knees pulled tightly together. You know just where to place your lips to make her go to pieces, but it's worth suspending pleasure - your own, and Irene's, who won't admit that this sorta turns her on too - so Karina's face might open up, so the tilt of her brow can slack, and the twist of her expression can soften. Like it's the only chance she'll ever get.

When you place your palm across Karina's stomach to steady her and look up, Irene has started peeling off her own clothes, down to nothing but the little panties underneath. That garter-belt thing that makes her ass look like she was sculpted straight out of clay - a reminder she's always worth your time, no matter what mood she's in, or whether or not she'll eventually let you take the lead. She's lifting herself on the couch to throw off the little slip of a dress, the high heels. “Baby," she purrs, teasing, maybe to distract from how she’s gone from dragging circles with her fingernails across Karina’s collarbones to kneading roughly at her tits. And she might even insert something she's never actually had a chance to confess out loud, or even consider much, like: she's been dying to know what Karina's face will scrunch up into, or what her eyes will look like, tears stained across her lashes while you fuck her within an inch of her life. The image you’ll find when you find all those spots that drive a girl wild.

Your mouth drags over the slick, her lips, her clit, and down again - as if to illustrate the point.

"That feels - so," she starts, and bites off the rest of the words.

Irene grabs hold of Karina's hands. Presses their mouths back together, and bites Karina's bottom lip. Kissing the words out of her, the sentences that start in half measures and stifled gasps:

"- so, good, oh. Do - ah, fuck. Oh, god-"

-and vanish somewhere in Irene's mouth.

"-oh, do that again. Oh my god. There. Just - lick- please, keep fucking, exactly that-"

And pay close attention, because here now is how she slips: from the image she maintains for the cameras, the audiences, her admirers, her competition, her detractors, the ones who mean it, the ones who don't mean a damn thing; the girl who shies away from anything overtly sexual, or sensual, or remotely hedonistic; and doesn't act as though she too, just as much as anyone else, needs someone to fuck her stupid - as if it's an eventuality of her own humanity, instead of a concept she's learned to scorn.

Irene picks up on the distinction, all too familiar with the look filling out across Karina’s angelic features.

She ghosts her thumbnail across Karina’s nipple. Tries out: "why don't you make her cum, baby, right here, on the couch.” A look at you, a quick tilt of the chin. Then, her tongue peeking from behind her teeth, and her voice dropping, "just so you can tell Minjeong, or whoever ends up asking - 'you have no idea how good they fuck.'"

And just like that - with Karina’s body laid out beneath Irene’s hands, your mouth - you simply fucking ruin her.

You both do.

Until it's only a mess of whines and shuddering limbs and that lovely look: pure agony. So helpless. So utterly exposed.

Karina hiccups something incoherent - you’re doubling down. You’re working your touches through the torrid mess between her legs. Her pussy is shimmering wet and hot and every bit as pretty as she is. Then, the motion of your tongue, the slow, heavy flick back and forth, relentless and constant - dragging back and forth, keeping her right up, riding the wave. Back and forth, back and forth.

"Oh my fucking god." Karina can only gasp, jaw-slacked open.

Overwhelmed and blissed-out and suddenly awash in this searing and wondrous sensation that the only real way she's able to make sense of is by twisting her hands in your hair and pulling you flush against her cunt while she cums on your lips.

"Ah - you're fucking kidding me. Please, don't stop, please don't-" Karina has her head turned. Voice pitched right into Irene's shoulder. You fuck her on two fingers until she’s got the heel of her palm pressed firm into her forehead, and she’s starting to jerk her hips into your face. Stutter her breathing, her words: “I, I, I- fucking - what the fuck, you’re making me - jesus fucking christ."

Like some delicate and intricate piece of her had just been irreparably snapped. Broken. You hear her expletive-laden screams - and think, better her, than either of you.

And all the way through every last part of it, cresting, waning, quivering, the tremble of her thighs snapped shut against your ears, the grind of her teeth, and each little choked out gasp-

“I'm… fucking cumming.”

Karina spends the entirety of her first orgasm between the two of you, heaving.

The look on her face alone, just from what parts you can see, has your lower gut clenched - it goes from anguished pleasure, mouth pulled wide and brows wound high and tight, all the way to calm and cathartic, the pretty bow of her lips settling into something manic. Eyes softening with a luster, half-closed. A mask, the afterglow: blissed-out and smiling dreamily.

How anyone could say no to a picture like this, you're unsure. Though not particularly willing to test the theory, naturally.

"That was mean," Karina finally huffs, letting a moment pass to even out her breaths. "Both of you, so mean."

"You said to," is all Irene says, amused.

Karina looks down; lifts her head just slightly - as you bring your own mouth off her, catching her glance. Not even your palm and your fingers covered with the evidence - it's her lips that give her away, the swollen, pouting, bright pink lips of her pussy, still radiant with her climax.

She breathes, "god. Irene."

It sounds an awful lot like she's begging for mercy.

Irene hums softly. Leans in for a kiss, with her slender hands cupping Karina's face. Manages to say: "you just look so fucking hot when you're struggling. Can’t fault us for that." She reaches down, and digs her fingernail into the line of Karina's cheek - near the center, just short of the outer curve where her dimple naturally settles. She works her lips to a very soft, "ow."

"Listen," Irene says, "is there anywhere else you've been considering going? Because in the event you're looking to stay for the night-"

Karina replies, "only everywhere I still haven't gone."

Her smile looks honest. Her cunt seeping and slick - there's abundant honesty there, too. And you manage to catch the wicked glint in Irene's eye, like she's a bit obsessed with all that glisten, and what it means - that Karina hasn't felt a real, good dicking in ages. Maybe, probably, never. That she's slept with everyone and filled her quota of playing pretend: of someone just going through the motions, dragging their mouth or tongue or cunt along the most obvious, conventional routes.

It’s written all over her face: the girl between you needs to be touched everywhere, and by someone who knows how. Needs it deeper, more. Has to feel the pressure everywhere all over.

Irene asks her, plainly, “how might we get you moaning like that again, hm? We're both dying to know."

She puts her hand under Karina’s chin, tilts her face towards hers, and kisses her long and deep. Until the both of them are having trouble catching any breath. Until they have to break, only so one can take another in: inhale, exhale, and back in her mouth.

"Maybe." Karina lets go of Irene's lower lip. She sounds almost bashful, "you'll need to let me get my hands on that cock of his. Let me get it inside, want it real fucking deep inside. Tell you if I'm just, you know. Really fucking horny. Or maybe I have some hangups about sex I've never told anyone - and we have to work past that," she takes Irene's mouth into her own again.

It's the short consideration of sure, mm, why not? until the next suggestion is: "he should be on his knees, in bed, those hands around my waist, behind the small of my back and pulling me into every stroke."

“Oh,” Irene agrees, “I love that. Should I play with myself while I watch him fuck you senseless? So hard and rough - you'll start seeing stars. I wanna see him completely railing into your dripping pussy from behind, fucking you so goddamn well until you're screaming so loud it’ll wake the neighbors."

Karina sighs. “Well I’d hate to get all the way here and half-ass it.”

You barely catch it, but there's a lovely note in Karina's voice. It’s saying, and don't you dare treat me like glass, like I’m fragile.

All in all, a filthy, filthy way for a girl with virtually no ill-reputation or ill-gotten gains - no record whatsoever - to describe how she wants you to fuck her, until she’s biting down on the consonants in your name, moaning loud and unmistakably clear, and-

“-sorry, whose cock?” Irene has no intention of letting her off easy.

You draw away from the meat of her thigh, licking your lips clean, and insert mid-conversation with a husky-voiced, "hmm?"

Karina just shoots you a sharp-eyed look. "You heard."

"Only," you play dumb. You run a hand between her legs, using your palm as you go, so you can pull more sound out of her throat; the pleased sighs, a hum. Another. "The part where you want it 'real fucking deep inside,' I think I heard."

"I mean, wouldn't you?" Karina looks satisfied with that. Lets out an easy laugh and turns to Irene. "Besides, I need to know if it’s more than just pretty eyes and a handsome smile that you’ve gotten yourself so hung up on."

The tilt of your fiancée’s brow above her is noticeable and apparent. Not a twinge of surprise; more like recognition. It's Irene looking haughty - beyond the usual - wrapped up in the afterglow. It's the confidence, and not at all humbled by the reality that she is no stranger to fucking a girl this downright gorgeous, knowing the danger inherent in allowing that kind of damage, but if Irene has you figured - she's figured Karina even better: someone willing to push through the burn. Someone, she’s betting, with the capacity to handle pain like it's an artform.

“Karina,” Irene says, and she's really leaning into it, "you really ought to be more careful with that smart-mouth of yours.”

It's the absolute worst way to proposition someone; maybe second only to what Irene whispers straight into her ear:

"If I had to guess, it’s your sweet, pretty face that has everyone bending over backward just to let you fuck them, hmm?”

You’d anticipated this much. You watch how your beautiful wife-to-be eases forward and leaves a slow kiss into Karina's throat, before adding the worst, most awful thing she can manage, “they're eating up this adorable, innocent facade of yours just as soon as you let it slip - letting you straddle their waist, and slide right on, and chase some clout out of oh, she must have this tight little cunt, or how good it would fucking feel to ruin a load just slamming these perfect tits, or. The best of the best, when it comes to pretty things with brains and mouths on 'em: 'fuck, I bet Karina has a face like an angel, she's the kind of girl who probably really, really loves taking it raw - filled and fucked as deep as she can manage'."

“She’s insinuating you’re a slut,” you offer on the next beat, down from between Karina’s knees. “Or something.”

"I put that much together." Karina has that teasingly pragmatic tone in her voice, matching Irene's level. "Your point?"

The joke is that even Irene - after she has the chance to drag her thumb across Karina's lips - looks mildly impressed.

"Sweetheart," the corner of Irene's mouth quips, as if the reason is so, so very obvious, "let’s say you’re just like me, total hypothetical. You're going to have to let us know which part feels better: the praise, or the degradation. I know it’s what makes you tick: all the attention. I know you need it. The same way I know that I could eat this perfect pussy out for hours just to get it slick, and wet, and wanting, and the thing I’m still not sure you’d be ready to learn," she tells her, a light in her stare that flicks upwards, eyes going from Karina's cunt and back to her eyes, her own mouth, and then hers, "the really good sex? Isn’t always pretty."

There isn't room for misunderstanding, let alone any mercy in it. Irene's face is dark; dangerous. Like, seriously. Karina knows better. Everyone does. You know exactly what she's doing. You know what comes next, but this time, you can't shake the feeling like-

Like Karina wants you to look.

She has her fingers on her cunt, spread, presenting - and a small shrug; her response is so fucking coy: "I guess I can't really help it. Besides, it’s common knowledge, isn’t it? The brattiest girls always turn out to be the best fucks. Honest, I get so wet sometimes, you know and then god, I can't think straight.”

She laughs at the premise.

“I dunno, what's a girl to do?"

You can feel the room starting to tighten up, just barely: Karina’s breath still heavy, her chest heaving, the way Irene holds her still, how her arm curls across her stomach, palm flat under her tits; that pose in particular, the power to entice.

And maybe it's the fact Irene is still making eyes at you from Karina's shoulder, the cruel bite to her upper-lip, showing how she's working at the soft skin of her neck - a smirk, before pressing into another kiss there. Your insides are running hot, a shudder racing up your spine. There’s no mistaking what she's getting off on, not just some pretty-as-paint newcomer. There’s your Irene, your fiancée - and her beautiful, adorable, awful little shadow.

So what if, by some pure hypothetical, this all spirals out of control?

You don't know the consequences of taking home what amounts to a coworker and screwing her with a certain reckless abandon. There’s power harassment, a toxic workplace environment, boundary issues, sexual-fraternization. So on, so forth. It's all relative, but watching Irene and Karina make their way up the stairs and admiring the things that only a woman's hips can do, swaying this way, and that - and, following the path from one tight little ass, the other, all the way up their spines - there are no such qualms to contend with, because there's absolutely zero chance that’s the thing that’ll be keeping you up all night.

Irene laments and hopes in the same breath.

She has two pairs of panties in one hand, Karina’s fingers laced into the other, explaining with a quick squeeze, "don't tell me, baby, I already know," a wink, a laugh. She’s such a sweetheart when she means to be; charming, wooing, the coy girl Karina seems to have gotten so drunk off the idea of getting mixed up with. And yeah, when she drops them on the floor, and pushes Karina gently against the wall. Traces her finger up her jaw, then her cheek, and leans into the crook of her neck, into that same spot from earlier; yes, Karina can count herself lucky, or whatever.

"So, don't stop now, baby-" Karina's huffing - the line of her throat so taut and exposed. "You should really fucking try harder if you want me to beg."

"Honey," is how Irene responds, leisurely.

There will come a point in their intimacy, in all things considered, where this act no longer plays itself: Irene, the seductress, and Karina, a deft and innocent prey; of course you, the hammer to a nail, pushed and pulled in one direction, the next. The moments in which her lips leave the crescent of Karina's mouth - hot, hazy, and half-wet with their own spit, their tongues twisting, the muted click, and the telltale wet drag of a body pushing and straining up against her own-

Maybe in her bones, she is begging for it. Maybe, Irene hopes, she'll have to: eyes turned up, watering, tears coming hot, streaming down her flushed cheeks as she cries it from her lungs.

"I wouldn't have you beg for anything."

It's true that Irene is ninety-nine percent grace, one percent child-like wonder; she's easy to read when the mood hits her. The lines of their bodies tousling, twisting and tangling in moon-lit-darkness. There's some irony to it, only a few steps away from the bedroom. At the base of the staircase. In front of the tall windows covered with frost that serve, now, primarily to remind Karina that she's in a part of town she could never afford, in an ostentatious apartment she could only dream of; but most importantly, that the woman in front of her - with her fingers dipping down between her thighs and up again, tracing over her navel and the rise of her hip and her cleavage - can have anyone she likes, without limitation.

Karina can't deny it's everything she wants.

"Karina, I'm curious." You're easing into that spot, where the two of them have coiled themselves up - you’ve got your cock in your hand and you’re stepping out of your pants - in the hallway, the frame of the door, a heavy, long shadow cast: Karina has Irene pinned now, a wrist over her head, against the other side of the wall where the white paintwork is starting to run thin. "Didn't you say something before about how hard you wanted it? Raw, deep, I believe was how you put it."

Irene smirks. It's just the slightest sneer, until she has her hands reaching over the curves of Karina's hips and pulling her fingers into her soft ass. Spreading her cheeks. Touching up, then down, back in the same groove, this slow rhythm that builds - like they were both expecting this exact sequence of events.

You watch Irene whisper something into the girl's ear, and - fuck - the light catches her expression at just the right moment, head lolled to the side.

"Hey," Karina drawls. She lets it come out breathy - on the note, the middle and upper registers of her voice, hitting something near a perfect alto. "How about instead of having some heart-to-heart, and making me out to be some naive-ass kid, you stop asking questions and get to fucking the life out of my little pussy."

She ends it so charming.

“Oh,” you tell her, feeling how fucking drenched she is right at the end of your cock - sliding her slick up and down the length of her cunt, and knowing the feeling will likely stick to your skin and drip to the floor, all of it - "well. If that's all."

Your hand arrives on the lithe stretch of muscle between her waist, right along the ridge of her hip bone, your cock pressing onto the heat of her cunt. Karina turns her head over her shoulder so you can see it all in profile: that pout. That look. That everything.

"There you have it." Irene squeezes the flesh she's got cupped in her palms, drawing circles. "If only everyone else got to hear that sweet, sharp edge you've got underneath, hm?"

Karina opens her mouth with some clear quip to needle, but stops herself, a catch in the center of her throat, her brows shooting up. The pull of her voice is somewhere out and over.

“God, fuck-” she can just manage to sputter. “You’re- ah, ah - your fucking cock-”

Oh, it has you cursing too. You're pushing so far into her tight little cunt - the soft airy moan, that pretty sound, riding back on every last stroke until you've filled her right to the hilt.

“I know, I know - that feels so good, right?” Irene coos.

You just pull her all the way back onto your cock, thrusting deep. Base to tip. So goddamn fucking deep.

Karina probably doesn’t even mean to whimper, but the press of your hips, slowly snapping in and in, has her lungs constricted, as the pressure slides through every hot, slippery inch inside of her - this glide of agonizing intensity.

“I bet you want to just cream all over that cock,” Irene says, fine eyebrows knitting into something like contentment. “All filled up and feeling full, and just fucking letting it go - he’ll take such good care of you. He’ll fuck you so good you won’t ever get that warm, hazy, blissed-out feeling out of your veins ever, ever again, if he has his way-”

All while the head of your cock works over every fucking sensitive part of her, dragging out to thrust all the way into her soft cunt, the round of her ass bouncing back to meet each stroke. Again, and again, until you've worked through that wet stretch of muscle. And the motion isn't exactly elegant. Karina's mouth hangs wide open, catching short breaths that curl inwards when you reach the line of her waist.

“It’s so fucking good,” Karina’s sighing out. She’s all fluster, no bite.

There’s no lack for juxtaposition in the way Irene dotes on her either - these small beguiling bits of praise like, baby, you’re doing so good, these tits of yours are just, you are - just gorgeous. Mouth quirked into a tight grin as her fingers pull and twist around her nipple. The sharp yelp that comes after. The fact that she's kissing the words into her mouth on the very next whimper: “a girl like you needs the time, and patience, and opportunity to have her insides completely, totally, catastrophically ruined.”

Irene had it exactly right on the first read. She’ll say, “I told you so,” when Karina’s washing the cum off her chest or out of her eyelashes in the shower. It’s the praise; it’s the degradation; it’s you leaning down, your hands finding her hair, curling in, and getting her right up against your lips to say it quiet, low, intimate - like a lover, like she hasn't already heard it before, “such a good little slut for me.”

And the girl absolutely fucking keens.

You grip onto her hips. You pull her hair tight. Her throat bobs under your thumb and you can feel the anxiety start to throb, her pulse hot and heavy in her cunt. How it soaks the base of your cock. Jesus, you’ll fuck a load right into her. So easily. Her pussy is so snug, so unbelievably wet. Perfect enough to know if you fuck into her any faster, any harder - it’ll be just that: you'll paint right up to her cervix; you'll fill her to the fucking brim.

"Fuck, Karina, this pussy is such a fucking dream," is what you're making sure she knows, and at that, Karina just finds that bend. Arches more of herself to you, until her ass is slotted into the plane of your stomach, the head of your cock prodding, testing the limit where her cunt is hottest and wettest. "God, this has to feel incredible. Your ass bouncing on my cock" - Karina goes slack on the force, leaning forward - "as I rail your tight little cunt."

If anything, Irene is there to catch Karina's tearful, thankful gaze when she finally starts fucking crying, a litany of yes, fuck yes, yes-yes-right-there, please fuck, and a wet, dazed little "you're goddamn - you're ruining, fucking - fucking, ruining me," every other syllable broken by her shuddering breaths.

"Aw, you're going to cum again, huh? Baby-" Irene's got her head at an angle - their gazes locked, watching - and maybe Irene really gets it: how much of a big, bad crush this gorgeous fucking woman's had on the pair of you all this whole time, with all that faux-romance, and lust, and envy wrapped up inside her - but if she wasn't so obsessed with the shape of Irene's mouth, the contour of her jaw, the lean and sleek lines of her frame and the soft, round swell of her ass - she’d still be left with the shape of your cock, where it’s pounding her apart. Fucking her and fucking her up.

It's more than worth the breath to remind Karina what she came here for. Irene's fingertips brush the line of her lips, part them just so.

“All over him, baby, let him make a mess of you. Just a total fucking mess. We'll fill you up, and fill you up, until your poor, aching pussy is full of cum," and it's probably as well: Karina does what comes most natural to her - with you three, the whole number. Her eyes flutter and go dreamy. There's not even a moment of hesitation:

"-until it's leaking down these fucking thighs-"

"You're doing so good, babe," is your supporting role in all this, murmuring encouragement straight into her ear as you fuck her to pieces. Your breath fans out against her cheek. And then, your hands make a grip under her thighs, holding her steady, making her mouth fall open - this keen, wobbly, vulnerable thing that exposes the naked girl she is, behind all the makeup, and the heels, and her seductive and all-consuming appeal, everything.

“Just so you know: it’s the best fucking part, Karina. I mean, the look on his face.” Irene laughs with her whole body, until the rich, raspy sound of it fills the hall. “The way he bites his lip when he's close, his eyes clenched - and god, I fucking love when he finally cums. It's so good, watching him. Letting him have his way. Feeling his cock throb and spill into you - hot, and still, and just pumping inside you - just so, so good.”

"Fuck, ah-" the little gasp is like she's starting to hyperventilate.

"Because baby,” is the final nail in the coffin, hammering home, “he’s fucking you just like he’d fuck me.”

"Fucking, please, god-."

Irene's hands have her breasts in their grasp and are playing at where she’s sensitive, then pushing into the soft, delicate space beneath, thumbing the indents. "He's so fucking good, isn't he? Are you going to cream and cream all over his hard fucking cock?"

Then - and because it comes so instinctually to her. Because, actually, your Irene has a slight propensity for evil:

She slaps Karina, right across her tits. "Fucking cum on it."

One.

Tugs hard on a nipple. "I swear, every single bit of you is so goddamn beautiful-"

Two.

"That body is built, perfect. So easy to ruin. And god - what a perfect little pussy you've got-"

Three.

Karina struggles to breathe. Her voice is torn, frayed. She barely manages to utter out a very shaky, very desperate, "harder, fuck- you’re fucking making me so- you can, harder-"

Four.

The cruel contact of Irene’s palm pulls this deliciously hedonistic sound in Karina's throat, a loud moan; like she just hit the sweet spot inside that's all her nerves coming alight. Irene plants a quick peck in Karina's hair. Her temples, the ridge of her brows. Slides her thumb across her eyelashes, brushing them clean from whatever tears had sprung free. You don't even want to try, not at that moment, to try and endure the quiver of slippery muscle all over your cock as she shudders into her orgasm. It's simply too fucking much. She's too fucking tight.

"Aw, shh shh, shh," and then Irene's soft hushes are coming down from the other side of her head. Irene kisses her full, straight on her mouth. Karina is shaking, convulsing and caught and fucked from head to toe - and what she needed was someone like the two of you - to watch her cunt swallow your cock like some magnificent and unbelievable sight, taking the whole damn thing. Irene is telling her, "it's okay. You can let it go."

The silhouettes alone. From the end of the hall, and where the afterimage lingers: the smoke-frosted windows, the dim lights, their bare, beautiful forms - this picture that will stick in the center of your head, will probably haunt you-

"God, I can’t, just- ah.”

“Breathe,” Irene says.

"I'll cum again, it's too- I'm so-" Karina can only plead and sigh.

Irene shushes her one more time. "It's a lot. It's alright, baby. He's going to keep fucking you until he's ready to pull out, until he has a whole mess just painted onto your ass, and thighs, and I'm going to make sure that little pussy gets so wrecked, fucked, stretched on every last inch- until the thought of sex hurts, and then we're going to make you cum again, and again- over, and over-"

You're leaning over her, nose buried into the waves of Irene's hair, the curve of Karina's back, and the flush of skin in contrast. That's when you feel the coil in your chest come loose - unspooling, and bursting - when Karina's lids roll into the back of her head and her lips fall open with a pleasured gasp and a stammer, "y-you're, ah, both, you're so, both- oh god."

You're about to just pull her down and absolutely cream her, stuff her full - a mess.

And she wants you to-

"That feels so fucking good," she lets slip out on the cusp of a shiver, just as her inner muscles are spasming, milking your cock with the pressure from one pulse through the next, squeezing.

She’s right. It does. Her, coming undone. You, at wit’s end.

Another breath, and Karina is managing out between these small hiccups - not as much out of breath, just dumbstruck - simply muttering, "I’m cumming, I- oh my god."

You barely manage it; you unbury your cock from her cunt; you’re cumming all over her ass.

A shot of white that streaks right down to her bare-slicked skin, before it gets painted down into the crease of her pussy, all swollen - wrecked and raw.

Just the way it feels on her skin is enough to earn another hushed moan from her, this sweet little whimper as she can hardly stand up straight. She lets her knees buckle, but Irene is right there, to catch. Her eyes are closed, eyelids clenching, as Irene tilts Karina's face her way, to lay one, two, three soft, adoring kisses on her mouth, the angle all wrong.

“Mmm.” The smack of her lips. The pull of whatever breath she still has to give - right out of her heaving chest. "Sore, that, ahhh- um, thank you."

You fiancée wraps a slender hand right around Karina's wrist, and starts whispering to her, unbridled, "just had to. Had to see how you look-"

It’s wicked, for one thing. More than that, it's seamless:

While Irene still has the girl's voice caught in her throat, she reaches around the curve of Karina's hips and drags two fingertips through the puddle of warm cum that sits right at the base of her spine, glistening all over her ass cheeks and inner thighs, slipping and rolling off her cunt, down the center, running in rivulets. Your cum between her fingers is so filthy, so obscene - dripping hot - right off her reddened skin, and Irene can't possibly help it; not after a display as indulgent as that. The trembling that remains in Karina’s thighs does nothing to hide how her legs now jitter and shake under Irene's touch.

“That’s my good girl,” she whispers as her fingertips hover across the apex of her puffy lips. Over and over again, with more force, and more, until you're almost positive it's Karina that leans in a moment later, kissing the rest of her soft assurances right off her tongue.

Listen to her: this incoherent string of words pouring from her mouth, like they can't move fast enough, tripping over each consonant, "are you, oh, oh - oh, fuck."

No one else could make that kind of overstimulation feel so heavenly, you figure, the way she just properly melts. You take a step back, just to let Irene work. Just to watch. To appreciate the craft.

You absolutely get it.

How to touch, how to tease. Firsthand experience has you know she'll ride your cock until you're throbbing and spilling cum and she'll just shh-shh, let you have it - it's okay, sweetie, just let go - until she's rolling her hips just right, or reaching a hand back to massage your balls, or stroking your inner thigh in that exact kind of spot; some method that keeps her all the way on the end of your cock, but not quite off the edge, and your cum leaking down your shaft, spent.

She’ll bite into her smirk. She’ll tie up her hair. She’ll get that serious look on her face because she knows: you’re all hers for the taking.

So she'll sink onto it, again and again, until she's fucking you with the slippery friction only your own spill might provide. "Just a little more," she'll tell you, which is absolutely a lie, "come on, just a bit harder, I'm so close." Irene does this thing - she's had years to refine and perfect - and her voice gets a husky edge to it as her teeth graze the shell of your ear; she makes a small, pained groan into the curl of your hair and breathily hums it: 'I'm almost there.'

Who stands any chance to resist?

And she's always asking you - the same way she's coaxing and promising Karina the world with just the movement of her fingers, this delectable in and out, in and out, pushing that filth up into the red-soaked lips of her pussy - "now, what did I ever do to deserve someone like you?"

Karina blinks, once - a sleepy-lidded draw that leaves her lashes, lush and long, and fanning her flushed cheeks.

The sound between her legs is wet, squelching with your cum, with hers, the barest hint of slapping her tender skin. The beat of Irene's wrist against her thighs - like that's where she needs it most - a deep, primal rhythm, like the last thing she wants is to take a breath. It's fucking hot; her head is tilted, her jaw clenched, and Irene has the tips of her fingers twisted between Karina's legs, swirling your cum right back around in her slick cunt - those plump pussy lips that you've watched stretch out on the first press, the first and the second and the third, as Karina finds what gets her there fast, fast-fast-fastest-

"You can cum for me too, baby."

It’s not a suggestion. There’s nothing but expectation in Irene’s voice.

“Just cum.”

You watch it knock the architecture right out of Karina's legs.

Indulgent, just isn’t quite the right word for it. Careless, reckless, clumsy even-

Look - the tumultuous tangle you three make is all over the fucking place.

One moment, you're at an angle, moreover twisted-limbed with Irene bent over her dresser, then propped up on top of yours the next, your forehead landing against hers, feeling the soft cradle of her shoulders, her legs around you. She has her hands wrapped in Karina's, in that muddled in between: it's a collision of sorts.

There's the chair in the corner of your bedroom that really has only ever known one purpose, a plush rug, all these surfaces, horizontal and vertical for you to take the two most breathtakingly beautiful people in the world on and let your bodies settle into the shape they've needed to ever since your fingertips met Irene's in the cab, ever since she blinked her heavy lashes at you with Karina in-tow, just shy of smiling.

And boy, do you learn that Karina likes to watch herself get fucked in front a mirror. Specifically, the tall one beside Irene’s closet. It's hard to blame her. When you hold her hips tight, and really, truly fuck her, you can’t keep your eyes off how her face twists with the pleasure; or, when you drill the length of your cock into her sopping wet cunt: the wide, glossy rim of her pretty lips pulling back into a wince - and your eyes dropping past the reflection of her shoulders, her collarbones, down to her perfect tits.

The back and forth, the up and down, the way they fucking wobble in their beautifully buxom blur.

Though the eventuality remains unchanged, spread out across your bed. Karina takes a moment, hand pressed to the mattress experimentally like it's all running through her head - this is where Irene gets all that fairy-tale-inspired romance from, really - a quick pause where your future-bride is up on her elbows and staring, watching - your finger sinks in slowly, between where she's soft and warm and wet. She's thinking, you can just read it off her face, 'oh. So that's what you'd do, huh?'

Just for demonstration’s sake, you fingerfuck her in all kinds of ways - show-off and performance and dirty and mind-blowing. Because even better than the whiny, gut-wrenching moan it gets out of Irene, Karina can't get enough of how it’s all presented.

"Ugh," she slides up next to you at the foot of the bed, helping you turn Irene on her side, "why does she have to be so pretty, it's annoying, she's- she's like, made it so fucking far by playing the girl everyone wants to wife, huh?" She's talking directly to you, even while Irene rolls her neck to press her head against the pillow. "Inspirational."

You're drawing circles into her clit. Thumbing the dip, circling in the opposite direction. Karina has her nails biting right into the crease where your knees touch. In tandem, you’ll help your fiancée reach the top of that first wave.

Karina presses, all cheek - a very dry, "cute."

It’s so simple: you eat Irene’s cunt. You hold her down. And Karina slides her tongue lazily against the tight pucker of her ass.

The three of you know she deserves nothing less.

“Oh, christ, you have no idea,” Irene is murmuring into the pillowcase, head tilted at an awkward angle, looking at the wall, almost distant; but her legs are split wide and her hands are reaching forward to rub a circle into your cheek, "you know how sensitive-? Yeah. Like, really, super. Super, super fucking sensitive, okay? So - if you'd keep doing, uh, oh- oh…”

Simultaneous, then slow, and easy - kisses landing right onto Irene's clit. So much so, you can't help but turn a little, smiling right up at your girl as she digs her toes into the duvet and threads a hand into Karina's hair.

The thing is, with Irene: facades fade fast.

Karina gets to measure that fact up close - where the details of Irene's composure are not only sharp, but also readily and openly and emphatically pound to dust by the time the last loose curl of Irene’s hair falls over her collarbone; she ends up on all fours, spread out over Karina - pressed along the length of her stomach, spread over your duvet and fitted sheets, your hand at the base of Irene's waist and tightening into the divots. She’s so small beneath you that when you bury your dick inside her-

“Fuck.” Her cunt is so wet. Her breath uneven - and her words are starting to slur. There’s the gooseflesh on her back that lets you know it’s all already over for her. “Okay,” she tries to steady the ache in her stomach, “okay, okay, just- right there.”

The drag through her pussy is fucking extraordinary. It knocks the wind out of both of you; so soft to the touch, like velvet - she’s unbelievably tight. You pull her hips into you and it opens her right up. Then when you end up balls deep inside your girl a second, third, fourth time:

She simply shudders apart.

Even though you fuck her so slow, so easy - her cunt clenches and squeezes on you like Irene detests the very idea of letting you go. You don’t even need to rail her lithe body to complete and utter ruin just to feel the familiar pent-up tremor starting to build in her muscles, how she rolls her hips back just so-so. How your hands fit that round and pert little ass of hers so well, and when your fingers finally sink in, you’re pulling it all apart to get a good look where your cock shimmers with her slick before disappearing right into her tiny cunt.

Karina mutters something in her ear. It pulls on some thread, somewhere - you feel her wind like a spring, further, and further; your cock edging her so close. The smirk Karina saves for you over your fiancée’s shoulder makes you think she’s figured her out-

“Irene, look-”

Well, at least she’s tuning in on all the right frequencies.

"Aren’t we all about being thorough?" Karina raises a perfectly trimmed brow. She drapes her arm across Irene's neck, their lips sliding together again, and that kiss is drawn-out and languid, albeit needy. "So, say," it gets muffled against the seam of their lips, and comes up, and comes out like a slurry, "are we gonna use everything else too? Your mouth, your perfectly tight ass?"

Irene can hardly muster out, "fuck- fuck- yes, fucking, god," as she takes it, so deep. There’s enough there to make both of you cum, you’re sure.

“Who could’ve guessed - like there’s ever been a more perfect cocktease than bae-fucking-Irene," Karina coos, all lips. She plants a row of kisses along Irene's exposed throat. The tilt of her hips, as she pushes closer - as you press the head of your cock as deep as it can go. "Go on. Cum, baby. Be a good girl, a good hole to fuck, just do it. All over his big fucking cock. Let him fucking have you."

Which is probably about the same time you realize that you, Irene and Karina are all well enroute - becoming this one mind, a single unit. This plurality you know there’s no coming back from.

You look down, with a little more focus, and Irene is being pulled apart in every which way - your cock stretching her out, over and over - Karina’s fingers right under her clit, every circle making her whimper. She’s all sharp edges and delicate angles, but manages to be soft for you in just the right places.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” you tell her, shifting your hips; pulling her ass flush and filling her completely. Your grip tightens on her waist and she doesn’t flinch a bit. "It's so goddamn easy to cum in this needy little pussy of yours. All wet and slick, and, hah- just pulsing-"

Irene lets out this wanton sound, desperate.

“Oh, right there, huh?” Karina asks. It’s not quite mean, but it’s getting there, fast. “Is that how he’s going to make you cum?”

You thrust on the same angle again, the same depth - you’re hitting all her nerve endings, all her sensitive spots. There isn't even room, now, for some imaginary head-to-head, some verbal volley, the banter; what comes forward is her tiny, broken moan.

How many times had Irene done the exact same, after all. Fucked you without holding back? Fucked you over? The flood of sweet-nothings as you started to approach: honey, you're so perfect, we can go slow, you just have to ask, and if you feel uncomfortable at any point, if you want me to stop-

“Just say please, doll,” Karina tells her.

If Irene told you a quarter of what made it out of the side of Karina’s mouth, you’d have never believed it. "I can't wait to feel what that arrogant mouth of yours will do when he cums inside this cute ass-"

You watch Karina spank her. Hard. There’s a red stain in the round of Irene’s cheek, and her skin is so pale that the imprint of all five fingertips looks stark, glaring.

"Just," Karina presses the rest of herself against Irene's skin and steals a quick glance at you - this half-coy smile pulling on one corner of her lips, "thought I'd do that in the name of-"

"Mmph," Irene’s groan is long, loud, "yes. Fuck, yes- please-"

Karina immediately looks away. An effort to hide the smug satisfaction. She fiddles with the auburn locks behind Irene's shoulder.

You’ll finish the sentiment: "-being thorough," and drive your cock to the hilt. Irene collapses forward onto Karina’s lap.

The sound she makes you swear is a sob. See - for Irene, it’s only about getting control in so far as it is about getting off; she’ll take whatever comes her way so long as it’s directly to her benefit - the theatrics of being pinned, the willingness for surrender, for subjugation, for the sake of telling you, yes, push my knees, spread me apart, hold me there; look at the things you do to me - it's the Irene everyone imagines, when they see the dresses, the gltiz, the glamour, just the brief flash of her grin, or the way she holds her fingernail between her teeth. Everyone wants to put her on her heel and feel a bit powerful. To have you watch the supple arc of her neckline bend, to hear the humility slip off her lips: the notion goes beyond simple kink-

It steps out into pure necessity.

She really, really needs it, and it's written into every muscle and tendon - it's on her breath as it shudders through her whole body. The beautiful, harrowing sound. "I love the way you two fuck me," she murmurs, head buried into the crook of Karina's neck. It's the sort of line, coming from someone like her, you know could raise a few blushes - if either of you was still in the business of such things.

"Honey," her voice wavers. Then, it falters: "please."

The desperation is thick, husky, almost. Karina seems like she's breathing her in, nose tucked against Irene's forehead.

You watch how she runs her nails up Irene's sides, a hot whisper sliding over her skin. You feel it, and so does Irene, this white hot pleasure singing up from the tip of her clit and spreading throughout the soft curves, the sensual lines of her body, this tangible current, a hum, a whine. You see her strain the lean stretch of muscle connecting her neck to her shoulder.

Until her face is tucked under Karina’s jaw, with a hand reaching back and hooked around your wrist and keeping you fucking, filling her, your hips drawn tight against hers, like a second home.

In and in and in.

Fucked-out and outright to the extent she goes completely silent. Almost completely still. The moment she cums all over your waist. Mouth hung open, like she’s in pure disbelief.

It doesn’t really matter, how often or how precisely Karina has imagined the whole thing. It's still a fucking revelation the first time she gets to watch Irene cum.

“No way,” she’s almost laughing, holding Irene’s jaw with both hands. “No fucking way. All the times you- what? No. Nuh-uh. You better fucking explain why this face, you- it’s not fair, the perfect face- I swear, even mid-fucking-orgasm, you are such a fucking doll-"

There's the sheer intimacy - Karina holding Irene's lips open, dragging her thumb down along the center. Quiet and sordid curses slipping from her mouth. And the obvious, her free hand already running down the curve of Irene's spine, her ass: all this sensitive-touching, admiring, appreciating-

"Hey," Karina says, voice raspy and drunk on the sex, the premise, "do me a favor, and tell me this feels as amazing as it looks. Or maybe, for once - just for the sake of fucking argument, is it actually better for the both of us, hm?

Her eyes are half-lidded, heavy, sultry. She's arching up into Irene's warmth - until her palms are spread out against her chest, thumb sliding right over everything sensitive, and she leans right to pull the other breast to her lips, and start all over again. It's clear what she means, spreading her legs as far as she can, pinned beneath the orgasm you're still fucking into Irene. As much as her petite frame will allow.

And in case you missed the point:

"So. What are we waiting for," is what she says a breath later, matter-of-fact, not at all expecting denial. “Or am I not as fuckable as our princess here?"

There's so much wet spill around the base of your cock, and the sound Irene's pussy makes when you finally draw free - all her creamy slick mixed into your mess just fucking leaking around your shaft. Karina holds herself open for you like that, spread wide. All your attention to her pink, raw cunt; you slip right inside.

Karina lets her arms go slack on the mattress, her chest shivering, lips locked around Irene’s panting breath.

And so it goes, and so it goes, and so it goes.

(To anyone taking notes - chemistry, by definition, is the sum total of a certain process; where and when energy becomes matter becomes another.

More relevantly perhaps, it is that race and rise you feel inside your chest.

Nothing about the sensation, it seems, is too exclusive either - Irene, and now Karina, the pair of them equally devastating, all over and again. It has you in communication with a different kind of contentment: to fall apart inside their embrace in particular, and kiss them with enough breath and time to waste until the morning.)

“Jesus,” Karina laughs out loud, “you really believe that? You corrupting me?" she makes another scoff, both hands buried somewhere in the pockets of the sweatshirt you've lent her. "At least do me a favor and cut it out with the solemn tone."

You're leaning over your apartment’s balcony, watching an emergency plow make the slowest grind of progress up the road. It's late. And cold. Or actually - it’s early. The sky is the kind of dark midnight navy you see after all the snow and stars have run through the horizon. Time ticks on, and Irene’s inside sound asleep. A woman that small has no right to snore like heavy machinery.

So,

You and Karina happen to be two things at once: very tired, and very awake.

"What I mean is: I'm sure your manager, or your parents - fuck, someone - would fly off the handle," you say, pulling a cigarette from the pack and offer it begrudgingly. She takes the end and slips it between her lips, a little unsure. You then draw a lighter and offer it, too, and Karina puffs with all her strength. She's no expert, but it looks like the end catches and turns bright.

A bit of color.

"My parents?" Karina flouts, sucking at it, pulling deeply from her chest - smoke pours from her nose.

She finishes with a cough. And says again:

"Um. Your girlfriend had her fingers in my ass - your cock down my throat - and we're worrying what my parents might think?"

Well. She's got you on that count.

"Not to mention: who the fuck thinks they're so virtuous-" a small chuckle as she passes it back. The cigarette is lit, bright. You take a drag. Watch her tap her feet on the snow. "That they need to do that to begin with. It's more trouble, telling me what to think and feel, as if that hasn't just the opposite effect."

“Irene’s protective, albeit in her own sorta peculiar way. So, you know, by extension, she worries-" you pull, and exhale, the smoke blowing past Karina. It gets caught in her fringe, in the wisps. You offer it back when you see her shiver. "That some shit happens, after."

"Your concern is heartwarming, truly - if you want to let me think on it, I might go and write a nice little diary entry tonight. It'll have sparkles and glitter - if you're that worried."

Karina reaches in. Lets her fingers graze yours. Her skin is cool.

“Besides, I don’t need a lesson in image from Irene of all people. She’s her; I’m me.”

She holds onto the cigarette between two long acrylic fingernails, tapping the end so the ash flits out onto the ice. You're caught staring, probably - the dark hair framing her face, all messy and soft, falling about her cheekbones. How that pretty pink blush in her skin seems to never go away.

Your eyes drop to where her mouth is red, a bit swollen - well-kissed; it is snowing again, after all. And it’s easy to be kind of transfixed.

"You're not, I dunno, say embarrassed?" you ask, after a beat.

"Nope." Karina swallows. Brings the cigarette to the pucker of her lips again. You watch how she holds the inhale, holds her wrist up and slacked, head tilted back a little. This exaggerated fashion-model exhale follows, all smooth.

“Because I'm not the type.”

The heavy stream of smoke then blown right into your face.

"Really, I think - sorry, I have always wanted to do that. It felt like a movie. Look," she coughs on the next breath. "I get your dilemma. But also, um-"

There are some quiet moments too, here and there: the heat between your thighs, her pressed up close. She smells like Irene's shampoo and bodywash and that just confuses your head some.

"Who’s to say I’m not just looking out for you," you offer. Every good lie is rooted somewhere in the truth.

"Don't bother," her words hit you square on. "It's about getting off right? You invite me to your bed; I’m so starstruck and enchanted by the very concept of it - Irene and her charming, intoxicating husband. Fuck, I dunno - the way the two of you kiss, look, feel: the experience that you will let me be a part of," she stops and makes another face of amusement, so fucking confident, "you let me play, too, just once, and we're all just a little happier. My version."

“We’re not married,” you correct.

“That’s the part you’re hung up on?” Karina leans over, her upper half across the balcony, staring right up at the sky. “Same difference.”

The moon finds her smile bright like nothing else. It's something infectious. Immediately, it reminds you: of Irene.

"Trust me," she goes on to say. The cigarette slips back into the space where you are connected - the lines of her fingers, her knuckles. "I had a wonderful time, but the sun will rise here, and I'm not gonna stick around to blow you while Irene burns three omelets and finds a spot for me in her fucked up game of house or whatever."

She makes you laugh, free and easy, like a gust of cold air. Something genuine and natural. And as the laugh shakes, Karina makes it impossible not to crumble farther. Not to fucking simper there like an idiot.

“I really thought she was going to make me call her mommy or something, I swear-”

"Hey, I'm sure if you had asked." A spark catches you. The flash of her canine, and those eyelashes. “She’d have done you the favor.”

"Oh, shush." The touch of Karina's fingertip against your hand is delicate, careful - unassuming. But, god, everything with her is just the right amount of heat - it melts you; and when it stops, her touch: that feeling is so cold that you just chase her out of impulse.

"What about New Year's?" you ask. There are still boundaries you really shouldn't be crossing, but here you are, straddling yet one more.

Karina's grin cracks like an old fault line. "You're not allowed to ask me out like that," she insists, batting you away - trying her hardest not to lead with the obvious. You look out on the view, watching a guy in a parka trudge over to a garbage can, a handful of newspaper bundles, then a glance back-

The slightest flush has bloomed up Karina’s face, right underneath where the makeup's been rubbed bare. It's utterly irresistible. "Go wake up your fiancée and ask what her New Year's Eve looks like. Doubt it involves me and my dumb friends."

She’s probably right.

"Karina," you start, watching her push open the balcony door with her foot and walk slowly, lazily, back into the apartment. The window rattles, and she looks back over her shoulder. The bob of her ponytail, the sweeping lashes, that perfect slow-burn smile. That’s how you end up with a title as ridiculous and reductive as ‘original visual’ or ‘the human cg’.

"You’re really going to let them in on what we all got up to?"

"Oh," she makes this low, delighted hum - it sounds so dreamy, how her voice gets the richest sort of rasp, "every last detail."

On Monday: the holidays are officially over.

There's a bunch of stuff on the to-do pile. A lot of loose ends you have to clean up, a ton to catch up on. Irene is judiciously ignoring all of it. She's wearing her glasses - the ones with the big round frames that should look entirely obnoxious - which means she's already decided she's not leaving the apartment; Karina's still wrapping the world at large around her finger and has everyone convinced that she's all femme, no fatale; and you - well, you're back to thinking about how to climb the ladder and maybe how to stay there.

You head downtown with a cup of coffee in one hand and a musing mood in the other.

On your phone, some more choice text messages arrive in the late AM: had a great time by the way, stay out of trouble, this sweatshirt is actually just mine now, duh.

The selfie alongside it is pretty suggestive, but just vague enough to flirt with indecency.

She sends one more at lunch where she's gotten out of the shower, or a hot pool, or maybe a long workout - her breasts squeezed between a towel and an arm - she has the camera all zoomed in and framed tight, almost full body. If her intention is to mess with you, that's what she gets. The texts: ah, fuck off and did you have a nice date with your left hand then, thanks for reminding me, the hotel wifi is shit lmao.

The messages just keep on coming and there's really no better descriptor.

And Irene, later, in a way that's neither diplomatic nor nuanced: jesus, don't let her catch you by yourself. For simplicity’s sake. She interprets being alone with a handsome boy as carte blanche to do absolutely whatever she wants and she's vapid that way.

There’s a chance it fizzles out into nothing. An even greater chance it all goes sideways. You'll have to see what becomes of you three.

Okay, right - new year, new you. The resolution for the past couple remains unchanged, and unfulfilled - less takeaways and eating out; more meal prep, less calories, healthier decisions.

Irene has this cute little apron over her sweater that is fixed extra tight, the belt trailing down the tops of her jeans to accentuate her nice round hips and slim waist. She knows the nature of her charm, her sex appeal. How it occurs, almost, as if by accident.

You say something that will get right under her skin like, “looking real domestic, Joohyun,” as she slides a chopped onion from a cutting board to a bowl.

She presses her hips out just a smidge, just enough. Turns a bit as she opens up the fridge, and the smirk she has for you, that sidelong glance-

“Don’t you Joohyun me,” is her lightest rebuke.

She twists her way onto her tiptoes to fetch at the highest shelf. The crochet corner of her sweater rides up a couple of inches, flashing a hint of the fair, bare curve of her lower back. "You can help me by grating the parmesan, hm? Into that," she gestures back at the table, pointing with the bottle of olive oil.

And so you're ten, fifteen minutes into helping with dishes, with the grunt work - with the realization that Irene is going to chop her fucking fingers off if you leave her to it unchecked.

"Actually, here," you say, "can I?"

She tilts her head, skeptical - still, a quick nod of permission - and her slender fingers surrender the knife and wooden chopping board to you. She's tapping away at her phone, finding the playlist you're both always secretly listening to.

"Wow," Irene says, low, as you start dicing mushrooms, a stalk of celery. "So brave. There’s no way I could do that. Is it safe? Are we, like, in nuptial bliss now, do you think? I fancy you, I fancy you-"

It's always this sorta-delicate dance with her: how much should you step up; how much should you put out of hand; how much she accepts versus how she pushes you aside and gets through you all the same. You're too proud, really - both of you - but fuck. She's adorable; the apron adds insult to injury; and it makes the switch in your head simple.

“I always forget how much I love this song,” she’s saying; the rolling pin she’s grabbed is a reasonable surrogate for a mic. When she’s through singing a verse, she shoves it in your face. You don’t know any of the lyrics.

She doesn’t really care.

You have to laugh at everyone who's ever wasted the effort to theorycraft who she is behind the smoky lashes, the lowered chin, the downturned glance. All the characters and archetypes she'll wear and cast off as she needs.

"Here." She sidles up and tucks her hair behind her ear, the side of her hip grinding into your thigh until she’s pressed firm into the line of your leg. Because she needs to tell you that's way too much garlic, and she's not going to kiss you if your breath is trying to kill her first. She uses the word "pungent" a number of times, just for good measure. Go on - she’s murmuring - taste; right off her finger. If anyone caught this you’d be embarrassed for weeks

“I think, definitely, should open a bottle of wine-”

That’s how you earn all the responsibility for getting the both of you fed; she gets distracted looking through the recipe book.

But there's the way she looks up at you from the opposite of the kitchen island, face held up between her hands, fingers folded underneath her chin. "What?" she asks.

She’s totally caught you staring.

The truth is: Irene only looks this gorgeous when it's just her. When she forgets that she's supposed to stick to a script.

You tell her as much when you end up fucking her right there on the counter.

It's so slow, atleast at the onset. Her panties pushed aside, jeans spilling off an ankle - the fucking apron managed to make it to the floor but her sweater got kinda stuck on the way up. So you're reaching through some overpriced fabric blend to pull down the wire of her bra and get your palm where she most prefers it.

"Say it again," Irene sighs into your neck, clutching to the back of your shirt - white-knuckled at the seam. "Come on, you can be so charming when you want something."

"I wouldn’t push your luck," is all you choose to tell her.

You're hitting all the spots she wants you to hit anyway: her pretty pink cunt, slick, all wet for you already. Everything clenching as she arches her back, until she's hanging off the edge of the marble. You find it’s just enough leverage to fill her completely with your cock - stretching her out and open until her thighs bracket around your waist at the perfect angle.

"Or what?" Irene is out of breath, but hardly at a loss for words. "I know. You'll have to remind me how much smaller I am than you, right? So easy to keep pinned."

Well, if you really wanted: "Hah, ah - right." You get right next to her ear, muttering the words as deep as your chest can go - then take hold of her waist to put her in a spot she can't escape. And, by Irene's usual logic, once that happens, that's as much a victory for her as it is for you. You're being compliant, aren't you? The in and out: fucking her, filling her up, pulling your messy cock out of her pussy and slapping her clit just so she can hear how fucking soaked you make her, merely as a reminder-

"I wonder if she was even half as desperate," she moans against your jaw. "Her heart probably stopped the second you, ah - told her, what? About all of this?"

You stop fucking her, halfway.

"I’m sure you wouldn't be referring to Karina, right?" is where you glance at her. “I remember us both agreeing to chalk that up as a total absolute mistake. That was that.”

Irene just swallows, looks off somewhere over your shoulder. No one wears a blush better than her.

But she won't say it. Her honesty is such a privilege. The prodigy-type. Or at least, that's the word Irene chose. Then again, there’s you and your uncanny ability to turn a blind eye.

To the vice, the virtue, and everything in-between.

"So, can I ask," you press your lips together, finding the point of her chin with a gentle tap - you have her looking you straight back at you. The moment could let you drive back inside and fuck her brains right out, right there, like that - right through, instead: you watch her try not to squirm.

The tension in her upper chest, the rising heat that settles between her thighs, her weight struggling where you spread her knees, as far open as her body can allow. “How long exactly," you choose your words, careful and pointed, "are we going to pretend that she isn't texting both of us?"

You bury the question deep where she’s practically molten - hot and wet and so incredibly needy.

You do, again, and again. You pull her against you, watching that pretty brow scrunch and un-scrunch as your cock bathes in that soak. And hell, Karina had sent her a selfie today, is what she's explaining when you slow down enough - a bit of red, on her cheeks and her lips, and a lot of black, all the rest - the part about a midnight flight that's on hold until tomorrow morning. And then another, an hour later. To you both: her tits, the lace lingerie - so heavy, and soft, and easy to see yourself getting lost in-

Irene gasps at how fast you find all her favorite spots, then repeats - twice and again - hey, Karina said you're "such a cutie," and she sees her as the perfect mistress-material, don't you think? Wouldn’t it be ideal? The perfect fantasy? The perfect toy-

Obviously, that is morally bankrupt, even for the two of you. And you’re making sure she hears about it.

You ask her, point-blank: "are you really so selfish? So callous." It's ground out, slowly, against her hip, into her cunt. You've got Irene dripping wet, she's running everywhere, and you're telling her, "and this is your roundabout way of asking me to validate your twisted little ego?"

Don’t get it too confused: Irene lives for this shit; that sharp, hard-hitting tone - it drives her up the fucking wall.

"Duh. Tell me - just a guess," she presses her hands further back, arching into each push. The slim curves of her chest are bouncing, just under her sweater. "You like to feel so guilty and morose but I bet-" she chokes off mid-sentence, you know exactly how, the exact motion that has her wanting. She gets a leg over your shoulder with no effort at all, and your fingers find their place, digging into her hips as she locks into your thrusts.

Like fucking her is the only thing the two of you ever do.

Your whole body buzzes, it hums in resonance with where her gasps conflagrate to moans - you're pulling her slender frame down into every sloppy thrust and she takes you so fucking well.

"I bet it all sounds like, ah, the prettiest fucking music - in your head-"

“Fucking god, Irene-”

“Mhmm?” she fucking coos.

Because the things she wants to hear never actually leave your lips - your girl, fucking relentless.

Because the line between you fucking her and her fucking you becomes less distinct every time she rocks back and takes you deeper. Or when her mouth catches your next kiss a bit lazily. She takes over to swivel and slide her cunt up and around your length. So good that you have to keep her there. Hand locked onto her throat, digging a bruise or two in her collarbones, fucking her senseless against the countertop-

"Irene, fuck.” Your voice comes out thick, like gravel, and practically as an aside, “you’re going to make me-.”

Irene cuts you off, nodding, shh-shh’ing you into silence. “I know, baby. I know.” This total sigh of agreement - a hushed yes, or maybe uttering something she knows will sink right into your core, two words that sound a lot like “good boy.”

What, is that tacit approval? Probably. It’s hard to think straight.

So you bury yourself inside her, instinctually. Irene tips her chin up when she feels you paint her fucking womb. Every throb - with a fistful of her ass and your face pressed against her chest, sucking and biting and marking her anywhere, everywhere - right through her sweater. Fucking her so full that your mess is dribbling out all over the fucking floor, drip, drip, drip, and-

"Hey, I want you to know that I" - she sounds so amused as she cards through your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead - "really couldn’t ever ask anyone except you."

(All is fair in love and war, is an adage Irene takes to its logical extreme, tangled in your sheets or with a dress puddled at her ankles. A silk stocking rolling down her leg, the crochet thrown into some dark corner.

You never say yes. You never really have to.)

This all before setting her down, off the edge, back onto her feet and taking another half-step forward and having the awareness not to completely flatten her under the full weight of your body, so she can run a hand down between the two of you and her fingertips can start gathering up all the cum you've pumped inside her. Irene tells you in her sweetest lilt to pay attention as she leans back up against the counter and gathers as much into her mouth as it will allow-

The sight alone.

When her head tips back, tongue passing over her knuckles, and she swallows-

"You are so," you sigh into her temple. Her cheek. You've settled the rest to the space in between. “Absolutely unbelievable."

She reaches out and trails the tips of her fingers lightly along the rise of your cock - her softness up against your hard lines. Her eyes flash when you twitch on the fucking spot. It's so tender all coming from her.

And there, a moment or two more. You can see it in the way she has her lips tilting, dreamy. You've always known what you were signing up for - how she's thumbing the nape of your neck - what her ideal outcome was, is. There's nothing and no one in front of either of you to bar the way.

You’ll make your vows like any other.

"Well, hey," she finally says, slow and husky and curling toward you with a smug self-satisfaction.

You push her hair behind her ears, the dark brown locks. Some part of you understands, unequivocally, that she is the absolute limit of how far you would go for any other person on the planet. No questions. In a heartbeat, without hesitation.

The kiss to the corner of your jaw is unironically chaste - before she’s telling you, "shouldn’t we get a move on it, chef? There’s food to eat, recipes to ignore; aren’t you fucking famished?"

The bolognese reduces down to a scorch in the cast iron. Too much heat, or too long, you got too preoccupied, who knows - there's a moral lesson to ignore here if you're so inclined. So it ends up being over a tray of sushi delivery that Irene explains to you her working theory like it's high-stakes political intrigue.

"Listen," she's got her chopsticks pointed at you, "for one, Karina, to her core, is a total seductress; and she's told me already, more or less to my face - she gets off on the chase, and hates the other shit. To be involved, or invested."

“Okay then why all the go-around; the wait-and-see; what’s her endgame?”

“What’s anyone’s endgame?” Irene shrugs. “Validation." She slips a tuna roll into her mouth.

"I think you might be projecting."

"Or, I'm simply an extremely empathetic person," her sarcasm hits harder through chewing - she almost gets you, and finishes swallowing to say, "look, she's like us if we were pretending to care, okay? Just more, like - explicit about her lack of intention. So. Doesn’t matter if it's to piss her manager off. Or it's like a revenge-slash-extortion-thing against someone she either had or is having an affair with."

"An affair," you repeat, skeptical.

"It's not like it’s an unheard-of workplace hazard, come on," and then the final confirmation: "she’s just into it because it sounds dirty and sexy, okay, like everything else-"

"And you figure we should be the ones to dole it out."

"What I figure," Irene says, doing that same mental calculus she did the first time: how, where, why - it's clear. A dozen different kinds of naked are an old, tired song by now. "I want us to fuck her. However she likes, whenever she likes, for however long she likes. Let her think she’s won something, or think she has you totally fucking hooked - I don't really care. Because it would be so much more satisfying to hear you tell me about it - because the idea of you two being like that for me. It's," her words pitch up a touch.

"That's the fantasy."

And Irene dives into the details. She explains what it could look like, all the more raunchy and ridiculous. This very specific arrangement. It makes no real sense, the conversation alone, and that, you decide - what can't be rationalized - is how she'll take it: by fucking both of you. That's the objective fact. That's the demand.

You listen until it feels less and less like the decisions have already been made.

“Okay, babe,” she’s presenting her case. “Hear me out.”

And she keeps going until you both can see it materialize: "if Karina thinks she can handle both of us, then both of us it'll be." It’s how her fingers end up buried in your boxers and around the throb of your cock. You hear the gentlest laugh Irene has as you start fucking softly into her grip, and she runs her thumb over your weeping slit until she finds you that much more malleable to the suggestion. Effortless almost, she lures the primal part of you from its confines and teases and prods at its wants and desires. Which is also how some charged vocabulary gets thrown in for good measure. Because no, no, no - she's murmuring into your mouth, tipped back, plush lips right above yours - it's not a cuckquean situation, or an open relationship, or anything like freeuse or whatever else might justify the concern. It's not even cheating, Irene’s explaining, strictly speaking, because who said you and I wouldn’t be doing it together?

(Lying by omission is the story you both live - and the difference: she's pathological. You’re just now getting the hang of it.)

"Fuck," is what you exhale out as she opens her fingers, offering. Her thumb glides across the expanse of your head, a trail of pre-cum drawn underneath a nail. And you know all the things her nails can do - can rip your heartstrings. "I mean. God damn. There has to be, like, terms."

There's still sushi sitting on the coffee table, and Irene is placing these kisses into the slope of your shoulder, your sternum, making a show of the movement, how she's traveling down, downward - to her knees. Where she finds the seat between your thighs and tugs your shorts, the fabric gathered down your leg-

"Let me handle it," she tells you, and there goes the cut of your t-shirt, shoved up to your chest. Her grip runs flat, down from the rise of your hip, fingers wrapping around, touching - the flat of her tongue laving across the tip of your cock until she decides to lower her jaw.

"Just think right now. How I want to fuck her and how I'd want you to fuck her, too-"

Right in her warm, wet little mouth.

Jesus, her tongue too-

She has it gliding up, around and against the swell of the underside. Rolling to where you need it, the places she knows you’ve died before. Lapping up the mess she's already gotten out of you-

Like this, Irene's looking at the way that the idea strikes: you and you and you; the only person in the whole goddamn world that can handle her; you fucking know it too - it's the most perfect, hopeless kind of thing. Like the feeling that catches at the apex of your lungs. It burns in your stomach and grips in your gut. She's gone and cut out the nerves - there's the crown of your cock caught in a velvet grip between those pretty pink lips and her fingers twisting at the bottom.

She breathes deep. Sinks her lips so slowly to the base. Anything, everything you want: to put your hands to the side of her head, to weave your fingers through her hair, and coax her, fuck her mouth like it belongs to you, all slow and hard and measured.

To hear all those wet sounds she makes as she chokes on the end of it. The gags as you force your cock into the back of her throat, holding her head tight, her hair pulled up into a fist, to have that mouth hanging around the length of you, tongue stuck to the bottom of her chin as you move her, your fiancée, your toy. To be looking her in the eye and watching her look the fuck back while she revels in every filthy second of it, not a single damn drop of hesitation or doubt.

"Really think," Irene urges, and she's all innocent when she tips her head to kiss her way up your cock.

She’s trying for some grace or finesse, or both - trying, you think, to make a point; instead, you end up watching her gulp and spit into her palm, just to obscure the sensual curl of her tongue with the sloppy-hard rhythmic stroke of her fist. "How hot it would be if you watched us both choke on your cum. Her face fucked stupid - the perfect little fuckdoll, is that not an image for the ages-"

You get a glimmer of that catlike grin - the one you would kill for a picture of. Something for the wallpaper, or the wallet; you've never met a boundary she hasn't challenged. The most depraved ideas in her head are just, as she is, a masterpiece. And so the answer has never changed - there has never been anything she's not been allowed-

"Trust me baby," she presses her cheek against your shaft. You feel her turn and run that mouth all over. The tip of her nose. Her eyelashes. The wet heat of her breath as she nuzzles the length. "Karina's all ours to share."

Her pout, right there, waiting.

You can't stop yourself from grabbing her face, the crook of her jaw, her neck and the tips of her shoulders. Until it all comes with a good, hard pull. The sound of her mouth on your cock, the blowjob she's been perfecting for years. It's starting to fill up the room, her lips wrapping your shaft - the sound of her being so obedient, the most receptive, sweet, pretty thing: letting you guide her pace until she has a steady motion going. Taking the thick base in her hands and working it over between her fingers. There's only enough room for that before you’re all the way inside her, in and out, again: the tip of your cock brushing over the softest curve of her throat.

When you take her at face value, it's fucking wild: your fiancée kneeling before you. Her chin and neck wet with her effort, lips wrapped so pretty, stuffed, used-

There are no questions. This is simply Irene, doing what she loves.

She pushes a hand between her legs and holds herself together as your hips tilt forward, meeting her halfway-

Just letting you get yourself off in her mouth like it's no big deal. It's her throat - it's her goddamn cunt and ass, and whatever else - because you fucking asked, right? Because you gave her the permission, the choice, the agency.

"Hey, where should I?" you’re muttering as you push the hair out of her face, already half-drunk on her slick lips and realistically only a few seconds away from doing some real damage.

There isn't a need; but you want her to tell you, to use her words. In her mouth, on her face, in her palm, you’ll go without thinking. You’ll cum straight onto your own stomach if it’s what Irene says. Even if she’s acting like you already have.

"Make sure you give her,” is what she garbles out around the hard line of your cock, and it’d be impossible to understand if you didn’t know every nuance to her, if you didn’t - you know - fucking love her. To have and to hold - to hold on tight and for better or worse, and this is pretty much as bad as it gets.

The syllables come in-between hollow breaths, all wet and sticky. When Irene wrenches the fuck out of it, the base of your cock- “hm, that same sort of courtesy when, agh, I'm not around-"

Because the image alone is what matters. There, getting your cock sucked like you've earned the privilege - it doesn't have to be real, it just has to look like it's a new truth to believe in. The little motions in her wrist are just - hah, fucking unreal - and the way she sinks down lower on her knees for each stroke, from base to tip - lips pressing over the knuckles she has wet, and squelching, and twisting up and down and up-

She places a hand under your balls, the gentlest cradle, and something of your restraint finally breaks - it snaps - her insistence is ruthless.

"Yeah, god, okay- I’m just gonna go ahead-"

There are these images in your head, of Irene: the upturned brows, the hollowed cheeks, and that slutty-as-shit smirk - and then of Karina: doing the exact same thing. Fuck, your cock is heavy, absolutely leaking cum: you can feel yourself leaking into the press of her mouth. It fills up her cheeks as she blushes into the fuck. Her lips become flush and go soft against the ridge of your shaft - her jaw slack in anticipation.

"Your fucking mouth, Irene" you breathe out, “I'm going to cum-”

Just at half the sentence, you're there, sunk into your fiancée's throat. Fingers across her ears and into her hair and watching her own hands pulling you, guiding you-

It’s all flexed in your back. Every muscle. Every fiber.

Irene hums onto a simple, satiated note. She always does, when she tastes it. When you dump a hot load of cum all over her tongue and straight into her throat.

(And yes, some might claim this is the death knell for all kinds of reasoning, but you’ll go ahead and admit it’s so, so worth it.)

"How thoughtful," she says, low and slow, once she's through swallowing the entire fucking thing.

The corner of her mouth tilts up. Because you're finished: two steps left in the brain from falling out of consciousness, a mess on the couch. You get to watch as she pulls you into sorts and slots each piece back to where it's meant to sit. The underwear, your pants. It's with such careful attention. Your soft cock gets cleaned with a tissue and wiped dry. A tiny parting kiss for the tip, her mouth full-on puckered, like she's kissing out anything you have left.

Though it's a pleasant daze. She prefers you soft like this, really.

All you have left to say is: "fuck me, baby." It sounds sloppy and open-ended as hell. "I guess I'll leave everything to you."

If that's a cue or sign for the evening, the only right thing: it isn't exactly misinterpreted.

The actual logistics don’t arrive for a handful more weeks. You find it surprising they ever happen at all.

// Karina 10:41 pm > i'm bored.

// Karina 10:42 pm > suggestions?

// 10:49 pm > have you tried looking into an incognito tab?

// Karina 10:58 pm > lol, and what is it i'm supposed to be finding?

// Karina 10:58 pm > help a girl out here.

"Send her a picture of your cock," Irene says, like it isn’t a joke. She looks up from the smutty-dash-of-romance-porn novel she's got herself wrapped in, with her best faux-serious expression. The pair of readers that usually are in her top desk drawer have made a new home perched low on her nose. "God knows she hasn't stopped leering since she found out what I'm marrying into."

"Please," you tell her, because she's full of shit. "I'm not sending her a dick pic."

Your laptop is warm on your thighs as you huddle on your side of the bed. That's the point of balance where it feels like Irene isn't trying to look. Though she clearly is. You flick up through a couple tabs just to drive the point home.

// 11:01 pm > sorry. i'm not in the business of just handing out freebies

// Karina 11:07 pm > really

// Karina 11:07 pm > thought we were making progress here

// 11:11 pm > you're funny

"Ask her if anyone's home with her." Irene dogears the page she’s reading and sets her book down. "Or ask if she's, like, tied up or something. Something edgy."

"Something edgy," you deadpan.

"Do you want me to put the readers away," Irene offers. She's wearing the sort-of smirk you always need to be wary of.

"No," you say. “God, no.”

"Ask her where she keeps her lingerie. Tell her she should be thinking about what it'd look like: all naked except a thong. With the straps digging into her. Tied up all nice and pretty-like."

// 11:13 pm > u alone right now?

"What the fuck?" Irene slugs a pillow at you. "That is the creepiest way you could've sent-"

// Karina 11:13 pm > yeah. i am :/

You and Irene are both struck a little dumb by that.

“Sheesh, she must have had her finger hovering over the reply button.”

"Yeah," you say, eloquent. “Who could blame her, though.”

"Uh-huh." Irene exhales, staring a bit pointedly.

// 11:16 pm > cool if I come over?

// Karina 11:17 pm > and… do what?

Irene nudges you with her heel, a questioning glance: the window has just been left there wide open and hanging. She whispers like Karina can somehow hear her through the phone, "you are terrible at sexting."

“Can you fucking leave it-”

Irene rolls her eyes.

// 11:18 pm > do you need ideas

// Karina 11:19 pm > got a couple. i wouldn't be against hearing something that lets my imagination fill in the gaps though

"Text her that you're into her throat and want her to show you her tits," and Irene actually cracks a laugh as she has the audacity to make the request. She's in good form this evening; in nothing but her favorite silk camisole - the navy blue one, which pairs great with all 5’2” of the rest of her. Like the soft curves she wears and everything else isn't bad for your heart. "Seriously, I want you to-"

"How am I supposed to end it?" You ask. The tone is purely sardonic. "Babe. Baby. My future wife. Tell me. You do realize you're basically asking me to bait her, right?"

Someone will eventually put their cards on the table, and Karina, Irene, and ostensibly you will realize you’re all currently having a mental break from reality. Or something along those lines. "I mean. Could that really be a negative," she wonders with an eyebrow quirked and another gesture of her arm like she wants to showcase the night sky beyond the bedroom windows.

"How, what - babe."

"You could promise to let her sit on it."

"Is the cockslut routine an act? Like," you lower your volume, "do you really have a playbook, here?"

"So mean." Irene reaches a hand over. She has her head propped on an elbow, the rest of her sprawled and comfortably positioned on the bed. And you wonder why the fuck you feel compelled to argue a point that so obviously has already been lost. "Just go fuck her already, god damn, I dunno."

Right. So. This was the part that was kind of inevitable - and Irene's impatience aside, you probably were about to win a lottery when you showed up at her door - that golden little interaction: "hey it's me, your rival at work's future ex-husband, I guess - I'm so horny and I think you're so beautiful and wouldn't it be so crazy if we, like, boned, haha, what?"

"Just- have sex. Tell me about it after."

The novel beckons Irene back toward it. She makes herself the picture of someone perfectly comfortable with you walking right into the next most uncomfortable predicament.

The sigh. That long, heavy thing. A leadup you do so often.

The simple idea of sending Karina that sort of message sends heat, low - just under the band of your sweatpants, and right where you've got yourself in the palm of your hand and you're already wondering how this is the result, why your cock is coming to a rise already - god damn - why every thought of Karina's face, and Karina's ass, and Karina's everything, every moment her lip is caught in between those teeth is becoming impossible not to touch. "Okay," you huff, "fine. I'm getting up, I'm going now- I mean it, right now, just give me a minute, I am putting my clothes on."

"Wait," and she's saying, "wait. Wait."

And when you turn around, Irene has this cat-that-ate-the-canary grin all stretched on the canvas of her face. She takes off her readers - her elbows thrown into her lap as she goes to the very edge of the mattress, pulling your shoulders for balance. "Babe-"

"Mm."

Irene likes to get you at a low simmer. The way she runs her thumb pad along your bottom lip. And all those questions - a look into her eyes - it's hard not to fold or break - when she's holding onto that sort of expression, unwavering; no matter how her mouth seems to get soft and curious.

Her lips move onto yours, asking - a push. And your eyes - a brush against a shoulder and you've already gone a whole mile from anywhere decent. There's the touch of her tongue between your parted mouths.

"You'll be good right?"

"I mean, sure," is what you manage, watching her lips close.

"You'll fucking wreck her, and do it exactly how she needs it done." And her brow, knit. She can tell your brain is busy jumping ahead to a hundred different scenarios. "Stop worrying."

There's a brief nod of reassurance. Her fingertips dust down your chest and the rest of the way. You hear Irene tell you to-

"And give her an extra hello from me."

"Okay, I love you, but also you're insane, like certifiable."

"Shush, I know you," and Irene gives your hair a little tousle before pushing you out the door.

You're standing there at the front door of Karina's apartment a little after midnight, bathed in dim, orange wicked fluorescence. Like it knows your sins - past, present and future. There's no obvious answer when you go knocking, and for a half-moment, you're thinking, okay, it's alright, this is how I let someone down easy-

Until she answers and leans out, pulling open the door. It takes you by surprise-

"Well, I'd normally let you in," you hear Karina say, and a smug smile starts to cross her face, "but..."

It's about the degree to which she looks hot and a little off kilter in this tight t-shirt - a snug pair of panties around the sway of her hips - that almost sends you spinning. There's not an ounce of self-consciousness; it's like a punch to the gut.

"Aeri's date went south and she's drunk. She's passed out on her bed, like, right now, I don't think-"

There's no bra. It's hard not to get fixated on every detail. Like her nipples, practically standing out. You have an irrational desire for her to take a step back, further into the room, further out of your vision's reach-

"Uhh," you croak. And you do have the mental faculties for, uh. For telling her. "Maybe, you know, later, could be better, yeah, maybe call me."

Though, unfortunately, the suggestion falls short on delivery.

"No, no." Karina has her hands searching up and underneath your sweater. Her fingers dance flat up, right over your stomach - teasing as she hikes you back inside. Right past the threshold. Your mouth is half-caught and stupid under her, the gentle hum and pressure on her lips. "It means we need to be quiet."

She drags you another step forward, with just the hot flash of her gaze.

"Shut the door behind you?"

"Locking it too," you tell her.

The laugh she makes into it, this one little scoff - it's an acknowledgment: an agreement. It's one of the worst fucking sounds, and the whole damn thing gets to you. Like her ass wasn't the perfect fit for the palm of your hands- like you don't want to trace your fingers under the elastic of her panties.

As if it wasn't fucking clear enough. It's the tongue in your mouth and the hands in her hair. She's kissing you soft, she's kissing you deep; her weight rests and pulls back with each swell of your ribs, pushing her fingertips down until they're skating, slow, low into the grooves of your spine. Like she's getting familiar with you again.

"Okay," you breathe. She laughs on your lips and presses forward - pulls you back, farther- "uhh. Okay."

She must see the confliction you're in-

"Hey." Karina keeps going until you've got her backed against a wall, until your thigh has pressed into the crux of hers and your hand is in her shirt. You don't miss how she lets her head tilt back when her eyes shut. It's her. There's no disputing the reality. "Whatever you want to do to me. That is all I've been thinking about. Do it."

"I- don't really-"

She makes a decent show of crossing her wrists and tugging her shirt right over her head. Tosses it someplace safe enough. "So are you just gonna leave me in suspense, or do you need my explicit, enthusiastic permission?"

Your lips draw themselves a blank on anything useful, while your heart rate accelerates.

"Here try this: you’re going to fuck me until I beg you to stop. Then you’re going to fuck me some more. Or whatever- then we can go somewhere, I don't care," she offers with a half-whisper. In all her goddamned glory - barefoot, almost bare chested - it's not like it could be any other thing.

You’re not exactly supposed to end up on your knees for this.

This isn't quite how you pictured-

Okay, fuck, Karina's making the prettiest noises where her spine is curling up against the wall; those sounds you couldn't even make up. How it feels like the easiest damn thing, because there isn't a question to why. Every inch of you is pressed to every inch of her. You know what you'll taste on your tongue, which of these breasts belongs in your palm and the fingerprints in the dips of her waist - her lips on the curve of your jaw - every mark and bruise on her skin, every hint of it is real; it's fucking you up because you're kissing the woman that Irene picked, the woman you met - it's how you pull yourself away-

Karina, for the longest few seconds, is shocked into stillness.

Because you could, of course, decide to give this one last shot, your head between her thighs and eat her out until she was so fucking wet your cock wouldn’t even enter the equation. This is not actually a new idea; the possibility has run through her mind enough times already.

"Yeah. That would work."

Like it's no big deal-

"Do you need instructions? I can get a bit graphic."

"Actually, you know what?" you choke a little, and - "trust me."

You stand straight up for a moment, a second, an extra fraction. You slip your cock inside her hot cunt, and, yeah. She collapses right into you. You’re holding up her just enough to fuck into - she's starting to breathe deeper, harder; you've got her pinned like that - a hand on her neck, fingers sinking into everywhere she's softest: her tits, her ass, her waist, her throat, and there is nothing that isn't some version of fucking glorious about Karina's weight grinding, heavy onto the tip and onto the ridge and down the thickest length of you-

And her face, jesus christ, her fine brows upturned, the tears heavy in her dark lashes, the little gasping-sobbing sounds that spill across her wobbling lips - this is the both the easiest and the hardest part: seeing her get absolutely fucking ruined-

(You know, god help you.)

Irene doesn't even have to ask. There are hickies and bruises shadowing in on your neck, your chest - these marks you never remember Karina giving you, and a ton of scratches all up your back.

"You know I was going to offer to make you breakfast," Irene says, smug, "but I'm wondering if Karina got to you first."

"What the hell do you think?" you say, dumb.

There are eggs burning on a skillet that are never going to be salvageable, no matter what Irene says. She has no respect for the process. And her voice is full of that infuriating smile: "was it everything you hoped?"

"God," you mutter, trying to mask the embarrassed laughter in your words. You can hardly move an inch on her behalf.

"At least tell me something fun, you insufferable tease," she presses her nose into your hair and tickles the spot on your side, just to be a pest.

You lay it all out for her. Everything she wants to hear.

Surprisingly, there’s still plenty to learn about each other; days to weeks to months. The first real thaw of the year comes, and you’re quick to fall into this odd rhythm.

Karina won't actually join Irene on set or production very often - too much heat. It shouldn’t have taken so long to figure out the two don’t belong in the same room together, and if they’d asked you, they’d know - but no one ever really does ask you. However she does spend more and more time around the apartment. In and out of your personal spaces. And maybe a bit in between, or a little underneath too: how she seems to slot herself right into every possible fold whenever Irene’s away.

Always traveling for this reason or that.

And god, the perfect powder keg Karina is - ticking, short-fused, all ready to explode. It’s ironic, you think, she’s drawn to scandal the way Irene will do anything to avoid it, and here, she's found her ultimate indulgence.

The quick lay, the time and place you know you can be patient in pulling her apart, the everything in between.

In fact, you’ve taken to calling her "babe" just so she doesn’t think twice when she gets your cum pooling deep in her cunt, all hot and sopping. Looking like the picture-perfect centerfold. The fucked-dumb face - all twisted in your grip, flushed-red; and the musky scent of sex; the noises and her presence alone. You fuck her, and fuck her, and fuck her, rubbing a thumb across where the mascara runs thick.

To be the gorgeous girl, cock-drunk and fucked-out in your lap - so simple - so natural: Karina finds her way over more often than not.

After your shower, after your nap; your work, the bar - Karina’s never more than a text away. And you'll keep a hand around her waist as she stands around in the kitchen, stealing Irene’s leftovers out of the fridge. Karina ends up straddling your thigh right there at the breakfast table, holding onto the wood for support as she cums all over you.

The long and short of it is:

She's fucking you. She's fucking your fiancée. She sees no problem in having her cake and eating it too. The only caveat is: Karina thinks neither of you know what's actually going on.

“You gonna say hi to Irene for me?" she's teasing one day, snapping her bra back into place. The t-shirt pulled over all that glossy-dark hair, the shimmy of her hips just to get back into the world's tightest jeans. She presses a fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth. It's such a stark, clinical goodbye - ending with a flick of a thumb across a screen. "And oh, let her know if she ever wants me to teach her a trick or two. Anytime."

“Yeah, I’m sure she’d love that.”

Karina does the most insipid thing. She fucking winks. “I’m sure she would.”

"Uh, are you kidding me?" you ask Irene.

It's late one night, and Irene is standing in the kitchen in her pajamas with a welt the shape of Karina’s lips kissed right into her jaw. A couple drinks in your system have given you both a false sense of clarity, and also an ill-timed desire to solve all your goddamn problems. You lower your voice. "In her ass?"

Irene has that all-triumphant and dopey grin that makes your heart ache for her. There's a soft curl of her hair loose, thrown across a shoulder. "I’m serious, pull her hair right, hold her wrists until her back has to be arched. Pin her to the bed," she continues to illustrate, "it's all in the finer points of how much. Tell her to count, even. I'm not joking-"

She takes another spoonful of yogurt between her lips.

"-she'll let you do anything, promise."

“That’s fucked up.”

“I know.” Irene wags the spoon at you. “It’s great.”

It's not only the hypothetical-homewrecking that gets Karina so torridly wet for the whole affair; when she's pinned beneath you with her legs spread and her toes pointed skyward, or perhaps later - the same day even - riding Irene's face in a locked dressing room and crying out - "ah, hah, jesus, please-"

In her head, she has you both at her beck and call. Forget semantics - Karina is a fool to her own illusion. Because in her head, not only has she managed to go toe to toe with the industry's reigning monarch, she’s managed to win.

You don’t exactly know how Karina ever intends to keep it casual. Because things are damn near constant:

It’s a weeknight, and the moon is high above the windows, casting a crisp rectangle onto the hardwood; it doesn’t actually matter, as far as Karina is concerned.

Irene’s on television again, the sequin in her dress clinging tight, and she’s found the gaze that never breaks for the cameras. Found the flash of her most practiced smile - that little chime of laughter she has that sounds like striking pure gold.

Then Karina: sitting cross-legged at the very end of the sofa. One leg thrown over your thigh, she’s got these nylons on her feet and she’s poking a toe into your ribs. "Isn't she stunning," you hear her muttering, "honestly. Doesn't it, like, turn you the fuck on?"

Her foot grazes your lap, all casual at first; the impossibly soft-curved heel of her sole. There are so many ways she'd prefer to pass the time and they almost all involve getting under your skin, if not just outright getting into your pants.

“Elaborate.”

"I mean listen, in your case, just knowing your fiancée is up there looking like a total angel and at the same time, thinking about you; how she’s got to be considering every which way she’ll unwind just after the showcase - at least, that’s what I’d be doing." She licks her lips, teeth. "Hell, I’m only imagining how pretty her eyes are when she can barely keep them open, and that’s enough to ruin my panties."

"Are you really."

She shifts her weight. Puts that ankle to good use. Rubbing it into the crease between your legs. "Tell me," her lips curl. She’s looking at you dead-on. "How does she usually prefer it, hm?”

Like a wildcat, you suppose, your Irene - a pretty, little predator. You could tell Karina everything, but you don’t. Instead you let her wander into the lair of her own making. Her eyes: light and curious; it’s written in the lines of her face how she's picturing it all so plainly.

“I’d guess she lets you go slow. Or hard. Or maybe a little rough and then you make her cum, and then maybe, just maybe, after the teasing; after the edging, I guess, that's when she comes in hot. I would hope."

Karina twists her foot around, swings her weight onto your lap, and sucks in a sharp breath when you reach out and grip the lean lines of her hips. It’s as easy to hold her still as it'd be to drag her across the couch and under the rest of your body, fuck the goddamn tension until there was no longer any room left for the pretty smirk in her lips. And her gasp would probably sound a hell of a lot better - than all the needling quips - a much louder and much less-pretend whine when you could throw those thighs open and really pound her wet, aching little cunt-

“Easy,” she chides when you end up taking two handfuls of her chest. "Shouldn’t you be more supportive? For god’s sake, it’s your fiancée’s moment in the spotlight, you know-"

There’s nothing stopping you from popping off the buttons of her dress, one by one by one - and kiss right there, into the swell. Your voice feels all the rougher when you respond, "and what a moment."

Her fingertips skim over the places she's been kissing you, where she's been marking and claiming and trying to, at least, to stamp you like her personal property - when the look is that serious. All cold-burn. Right through to the bone.

“So.”

You can feel her touching into your pants. The heat in her soft, silky thighs; she sits above you, keeping a leg on each side. A part of you feels trapped; another is confused why you aren't turning the tables right now - flip her and ride out her cunt on the couch. Some passing thought, or just a fraction, the only one that matters in that particular instant, wonders what Irene would do, will do - has done - in your situation. How her hips would roll. How Karina’s moan might sound when she dug a nail right into a sweet spot.

You push Karina's skirt a little farther up her body and try to gauge the moment she's finally decided she doesn't mind.

“How about you keep your eyes on her, and I'll suck your cock while you do," ends up being the short and not-so-sweet of it all. “-or maybe you can get off between my tits.”

She wraps those fingers around your base and pulls gently. It's not a decision, but merely a continuation, a culmination: a gesture made entirely to pull the response: the hitch to the throat. Her nails skim that ridgeline as her eyes track across the cut of your features. It makes you groan into her next kiss, to say, "if you wanted it so bad, babe, you could’ve just said. Would save us a lot time-"

"Are you complaining?" she husks, pulling your pants down your thighs. Your cock is in her hands and she smiles like a cat - licks her teeth when it twitches at just the slightest touch. "Yeah, I didn't think so," is how the breathless laugh leaves her lips.

You catch the quirk of her brows, her tone: straight-up, like nothing. You’re almost buying into that until she's got your shirt on the floor, those lips of hers in the divot of your collarbone, and her tits wrapped around the base of your cock, and, well, fuck-

She actually wastes no time - none at all. A couple feet away, Irene covers her laugh with one hand. There's a brass award in her other. And the television casts this soft, pale glow.

Karina tips her head, and a curtain of her dark, silken hair spills across the ridge of her breast. She runs those big eyes over you, all wide and round and vaguely-deviant. There's the perfect amount of motion, of squeeze, just a light-bit of pressure, and she's got a face smug-arrogant in an instant, knowing. Fuck, her hands on either side start pushing into the line of her cleavage as she bounces and rocks and draws every inch of your cock up through her soft tits and back down again.

"Fuck," is the harshest exhale she's ever dragged out from you.

She hums a low sound, all self-satisfied when it's her own namesake: your body wants her, like you know the full weight of her needs, your touch, how badly she's fucking craving to get off and still not admitting to anyone it might be more than sex. Like it's really as easy as her next breath, the flutter of her lashes: Karina wants your eyes, the weight of your attention and she's not going to beg for a fucking thing. The feeling, you think, is mutual.

"Irene," she says, her smile as open as it could ever get. "She's just so gorgeous, right?"

On one hand, she’s speaking between the lines. A perfect tincture of deceit - the bawdiness-by-nature: watch me, look at me - is what she might as well say - look what I can fucking do, the whole lewd display. And, god, how she knows every way to make a guy want it, like she wants you to remember it.

Because on the other, the movement is so, so direct.

Karina twists herself in an upward tilt, just an easy, practiced thing; she lets her tits spill around your cock and through her fingers, full and soft - and her lips part, mouth slacking alongside yours, matching the sounds out your chest with her own. Like she knows exactly which slide of slippery friction will make you moan, or which pull and drag will send your teeth straight into your lip.

"Isn't it crazy," she lolls her head a little, letting her own saliva drip down the center, onto your weeping slit. "How much I want your cum filling my cunt, even knowing she's the one you'd rather put the ring on," the drag and drag and drag - her tits are fucking incredible, and she knows it. She pushes up with her fingers and gives you a long draw right through the press, right where the nerve endings run electric, right where she keeps moving, up and down, and up and down-

“-it must be hard, I mean, jesus christ. Here I am, needy and hot. Begging you to wreck me and my only sin, hm - the sin of being second best, right-"

"Holy fuck, you're-"

"Obsessed," she says, and drops her tits against your waist again. "I know, I know. How could I not be?"

You're left muttering into the titfuck alone, watching her rub your precum up between their soft shape, feeling the slight give, how her skin goes warm. The act itself: such a simple-thing-bordering-on-the-absurd that you notice how you coil and flex beneath her curves, how she feels so soft and warm. The slight pucker of her lips every time your cock escapes her cleavage does little to help. It's probably the fault of the brain-fuck but the wet of her mouth is practically everywhere you look. You could eat her alive right here, spread her legs on the coffee table and finish with a bit of screaming, groaning and tearing, and no one would ever stop you.

But instead,

"-it's a good color on her, really; but then every color is a good color on her, isn't it so unfair?" She's taking your cock into her tits, deeper on every rock forward and back, holding them close - a gentle lock of those long manicured fingers keeping it all together. "Even wearing no color at all; you must just love how all the freckles are so easy to see," she murmurs, squeezing tight. The sound is wet, messy. A filthy chorus between her dirty words and the dirtier action, and just that glimpse of friction when she strokes down again is maddening. You're all slippery. So sticky-slick, so tight.

Of course there's not a fucking inch of a reaction out of her; you want to get off so bad-

"You could close your eyes," she tells you. "She would still be there. The sound of her laughter. The image. In that dress or not," and her mouth furls into a half-smile before she pauses. Reaches down, pulls her tits around you impossibly tight. "Just so damn pretty-"

You cum just like that:

"Babe," is what you let her have. The soft, undercurrent hiss. "Fuck."

You shoot clean up, all thick, hot splatter.

Well, mostly up - along the expanse of her neck and throat, coating where her breasts sit so pretty against the lines of your thighs. Across her sternum and the hollow of her neck - her body's covered in your shared mess: slick-filthy-hot, all strewn across her perfect tits.

"Jesus, Karina, baby you’re-"

"Completely covered in you." She's still smiling. That deep-cut and perfectly symmetrical curl of her lips. The gorgeous fucking shade, and her chin, how her cheeks flush, just a little - they've always turned pink in the most specific places when she gets fucking cum-soaked. “I know, just look.”

And her hands slide across her chest, trailing a path through the thick of your release, spreading the glaze all down her front. Making it messy, making the exact look a guy sees once and is driven to the ends of his sanity - just to spill his load out onto her. To get her all used, and trussed up: just how she likes.

(Sanity is being generous, considering.)

You can't do anything other than what's expected: take her up in a kiss, breathe into the mess you've made on her skin. The gasp is full, surprised - just enough, maybe, to count as genuine.

Such a mess - she murmurs - um, come on then, you can do a girl a favor. Bath bomb, bath towel, bath robe - and really it doesn't have to be a suggestion.

You’ll pin her down and fuck her right over the lip of the tub if that’s what she really wants. Just being in her company is indulgent and excessive and begging you to make a terrible habit of it. Have some self–restraint, she has this tone in her voice sounding more and more like a dare. There's just enough there in her hands: one reaching for you and the other reaching into the porcelain, swirling up the lather - and that look on her face, as if to say, can't believe you have me waiting, like some desperate, depraved pervert - only it’s more explicit than that. Only it feels worse - and her mouth is moving again, speaking into the air that already feels stifling hot, words cutting through the steam: you're not very nice, I mean really, it should come as no surprise how she turns out, having this jerk for a fucking boyfriend-

Nevermind. Not a dare, it's a challenge. She was right the first day you undressed her, the brattiest girls always have the worst kinds of fantasies, the darkest little tendrils of self-destruction. How she's laying there, asking and telling, pushing and pulling; and how she thinks she's so clever too.

Though that is no reason, she laughs, for you to think she won't love having her pretty cunt cockwarmed and spoiled for an evening or more. - And so it goes, and so it goes, and so it goes, and so it goes.

(Really, to Irene’s credit, she had Karina pegged right from the jump. A character study in, well, herself.

She's seen as an ingénue by the press, and an outright savant to the executives. They know her as the obvious successor. They give her the runway, they watch the leggy-girl-turn, the model-posture, chin held high and aloof, looking down at the gathered throngs of photographers.

The protégé, the goddamn heir-apparent:

But her favorite game - that bit of innocence served on a platter, ingenuous when it comes to spinning a flaw to gold, and the deception too - Karina loves and loathes every second she spends upstage from Irene's own, hectic, international production. Because if anyone asks her, that girl would claim it's never been a competition in the first place.

So you see, if you and yours have both decided to ruin her-

It is a disaster-in-the-making, isn’t it.)

#karina smut #irene smut #aespa smut #red velvet smut #male reader smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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shixcherie · 4 months ago

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Damsel In Stress | Jeong Yunho & Song Mingi ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 04 : Bodyguards, Shower Sex

↬ [ Synopsis ] : When your bodyguards, devilishly handsome and undeniably sexy, promise you a night to remember, you take it all in stride. Whether it’s bending the rules or indulging in steamy shower sex, you’re ready to embrace the thrill, surrendering yourself completely to the experience.

Word Count : 3.9k Genre : Smut, Angst, Bodyguard Au. Pairing : Bodyguard! Yunho x F.Reader x Bodyguard! Mingi

WARNINGS : Pure smut, shower sex, double penetration, dom/sub undertones, multiple orgasms, praise, petnames ( doll and princess), playful banter and flirting, big dick agenda, mention of alchol and drug consumption.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 4 is here, and this is huge just like our handsome boys, Yunho and Mingi. :P . Hope you enjoy this ma chéries. This story contains themes related to alcohol and drug use. Reader discretion is advised.

“Yunho, ahh... keep going, please don’t stop” you cried as Yunho mercilessly pounded deep into you, his thrusts turning your brain to mush. “So good, princess, taking us so well.”

Us? Did he just say “US”?

“Is this what you wanted, doll?” Mingi's deep voice purred from behind, sending a shiver down your spine. “Feels good, doesn’t it… being taken care of like this?” His words heightened the sensation of being at the mercy of your two deliciously handsome bodyguards.

As you pieced together the situation, it felt messy, thrilling, and was definitely going to be hard to explain to your daddy.

Wait… how did you end up here?

Let’s rewind a bit.

—

Your friends called you “Damsel In Distress” for being daddy’s little princess, constantly getting saved by him and your bodyguards Yunho and Mingi and being the mischievous talk of the town. Causing trouble was not something you chose to indulge in voluntarily; it was just that wherever you went, trouble followed you like a loyal dog following its master.

Coming from an opulent family didn’t help either, because people loved to pick on someone who had everything that they didn’t and couldn’t have. Taking behind your back, purposely messing up your drinks to see daddy’s little princess act crazy, and snatching your boyfriend Mingyu were a few things that you had been dealing with for the past six months. With your best friends turning their backs on you, your situation got a thousand times worse. Bullying turned into actual harassment, and this daddy’s little princess went feral.

Up until a point, you did tolerate it; you got your dead mom’s patience after all. You didn’t want anything from a woman who cheated on your S-tier, greenest of the green flag, ultra pro max gentleman daddy, but fate had a way of shoving things down your throat that you didn’t want to be associated with at all. Hence, you were a spitting image of your mom, but the good thing was you got your dad’s behavior and morals, making you the most loyal person you would ever meet.

You were more like a “Damsel In Stress” after multiple failed relationships and a damaged reputation in university. The only people you could gawk at without getting labeled as a “creep” were your handsome bodyguards, Yunho and Mingi. Tall and handsome with Greek god-ish builds, they made anything in their vicinity appear minuscule, and your 5’3” tall frame didn’t help much.

But where your height lacked, you made up for it with your attitude (short girlies for the win). The last six months were the most nightmarish months of your whole freaking life; getting addicted to substances, smoking weed, and sneaking out at late hours to attend God knows what kind of parties became your choice of escape. Your only option.

These were the only things that somehow filled the empty void, hence your daddy decided to ignore it for a while, as long as you were safely back home at dawn, and Yunho and Mingi, being the most dutiful and uptight bodyguards, made sure of it.

Tonight was different, though.

Why? Because you met this girl online, her name’s Ryujin.

You both clicked instantly, shared similar past troubles, and were freshly single, addicted to drugs. You girlies had been planning a getaway to spend a wild night out.

Ryujin found this party happening a few hours' drive from your mansion, kinda illegal with everything from dangerous drugs to premium liquor available, but promising a wild night.

You needed that.

Hence, you sneaked out again without anyone noticing, not even your bodyguards. You sneakily tranquilized their drinks, hehe, not advisable, but kinda the need of the hour.

Then how did this perfectly well-planned night take such an unexpected turn?

You were here to forget all your sorrows, so why were you lying on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, disgusting, your body so limp it felt like you took a thousand fucking punches, not remembering a single thing? The last thing you remembered was Ryujin crying on her knees beside you, fear calling your bodyguards. Yes, they were saved on speed dial just so you could escape out of situations like these without daddy noticing it.

But what happened with you? Did you drink too much? Ingest something so strong that it blacked you the fuck out?

A thousand questions swirled around your mind as darkness took over. You could feel yourself being picked up off the cold and dirty bathroom floor, Ryujin thanking Yunho as he offered to drop her back home, which she declined sweetly, mentioning she could drive back as she had bought her car and had almost sobered up. Fucking traitor! Why call them?!

Wait, Yunho?! What about your drugged drink? Did it not work on them? Who the fuck is carrying you? Is it Mingi? Not complaining at all; you had dreamt of moments like this.

But when—how did they know—why—what the actual motherfucking fuck is this mess?

Yeah, your intoxicated brain couldn’t handle any more, and you passed out.

When the tiniest consciousness slipped into your brain, you opened your eyes to gaze upon the glorious sight in front of you: fine-as-freaking-wine men driving you somewhere.

“What are you guys doing here?” you asked, even if you knew what was going to come your way. “Aren’t you both supposed to be... umm... sleeping?”

It's our job to take care of you.

“It’s our job to look out for you, doll” Mingi replied with a small smile,just the way you expected, his deep voice slightly registering in your intoxicated mind, and huh, did he just call you doll?

“Sleeping? That’s cute. Aren’t you supposed to be in bed by now, princess?” Yunho asked you, a smug look adorning his face, still not answering your question, his sexy smirk visible from the rearview mirror.

What the fuck with these nicknames?

“Guess the dosage wasn’t strong enough, huh?” Mingi chipped in, his handsome frame in the driver’s seat way too distracting for you to register whatever the fuck he said, something along the lines of dosage being strong.

Huh?! You just got caught. Is there a way out of this? Will daddy find out? Will you be punished?

“He-hehe, what dosage are you talking about?” you nervously laughed, thinking of what to say next.

“Can we not play dumb anymore, princess?” Yunho teased, giving you a look that clearly said daddy’s princess just got caught. “Sorry to disappoint you, but boys don’t take naps on the job.” That sealed the deal for you; even the freaking drug betrayed you.

Your lips formed a thin line, your mind made up that any more excuses you planned on coming up with were not going to work on them anymore. You sighed in defeat, earning a chuckle from both of them.

A piercing silence fell over the car, soon replaced by a thick tension that made you shift uncomfortably in your seat, filthy thoughts flickering through your mind like a movie reel.

Was it the sexual frustration building up over the last six months, or the effects of the intoxication? You couldn’t pinpoint it.

But every time you caught Yunho's intense gaze through the rearview mirror, a jolt ran down your spine, heat pooling low in your stomach. His smirk never faltered, his eyes shifting between you and the road, as if he knew exactly what was running through your head.

Mingi, sitting beside him, wasn’t any less subtle. His broad hand casually rested on the steering wheel, but his eyes would drift toward you whenever he thought you weren’t looking. That small smile from earlier still lingered on his lips, making your pulse quicken. You couldn't shake the way his deep voice wrapped around that nickname, “doll”. It felt too intimate, too... dangerous.

Why were your bodyguards acting up today? Was it the aftereffects of the drug, or perhaps... they did feel some kind of way towards you?

So, it wasn’t just you after all, was it? They had been battling with the same thoughts, the same desire simmering beneath the surface. You could feel it—thick in the air, undeniable. A flush creep up your neck, only heightening the tension.

“What’s wrong, princess? Feeling a little too warm?” Yunho teased, his voice laced with amusement as he noticed the way you shifted in your seat again.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing, but there was no escaping the heat radiating from both of them.

They knew exactly what they were doing to you.

As Mingi turned down a quieter street, the path leading exactly where you feared, their house, your fears were confirmed. Or perhaps, it wasn’t fear at all... but excitement for what was about to come next.

Mingi pulled the car to a stop in front of their house, your pulse quickens heart racing a million miles in equal parts anticipation and fear, as Yunho opened the door for you, his hand reaching out to help you step down. His fingers brushed against your skin, seemingly innocent, but it sent a spark of electricity through your body.

No words were exchanged as they led you inside, the door closing behind you with a soft click. The air was thick with unspoken tension, the kind that had been building for months. You were halfway across the living room when Mingi’s deep voice broke the silence.

“You’re trembling, doll” he murmured, stepping closer. His proximity was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched. “Nervous? Or is it something else?”

Before you could respond, Yunho was behind you, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned in. “You didn’t think you could drug us and just walk away, did you, princess?” His voice was low, teasing, and far too close for your mind to stay clear.

You turned to face him, heart hammering, but the words stuck in your throat as Yunho’s eyes darkened. In one swift motion, his lips claimed yours—demanding, taking what had been simmering between you for far too long. His kiss was messy, mind-numbing, filled with hunger. A hunger you hadn’t fully realized, or maybe one you’d knowingly ignored given the forbidden nature of your relationship with them.

Before you could catch your breath, Mingi was there. His hand gently tilted your chin toward him, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “We’re not finished with you yet.” The words sent a shiver through you. And before you could process the weight of them, his mouth was on yours—slow, deliberate, and utterly consuming, like he had all the time in the world.

You were experiencing things you had once only dreamed of, especially given the state of desperation you felt a few months ago. Even though you had deliberately ignored the hints Yunho and Mingi dropped, this moment felt like a culmination of all those unspoken desires.

A wave of validation washed over you, filling your heart with satisfaction as you realized that they shared the same hunger and lust that had been simmering within you for so long.The hunger that had been building for months had finally ignited, and there was no turning back.

As Mingi continued to kiss you, Yunho decided to take over your neck, decorating it with butterfly kisses. “You taste so sweet,princess” he murmured, nipping at your skin, urging pretty moans from you that were muffled by Mingi’s skillful lips.

“Is she always this responsive?” Mingi teased, pulling back slightly to glance at you, his eyes dark with desire. “We could get used to this.”

“Don’t let it go to your head” you shot back playfully, but your breath hitched as Yunho continued his trail of kisses.

Purple marks blossomed along your neck as Yunho explored further, nibbling on your earlobe before kissing you behind the ear. “You’re driving me wild,do you know that ?” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “We might just want to keep you like this forever.”

“Guess I found your sweet spot” Yunho smirked, oblivious to the way your body reacted as he kept kissing and nibbling that delicate area.

“Mhmm… Yunho… don’t stop” you gasped, earning a chuckle from him at the way his name rolled off your tongue. Your hands tangled in Mingi’s hair as he maintained his steamy kiss.

Mingi pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his voice low and husky. “Just imagine what else we can do to you, doll.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it” you chuckled softly, meeting his gaze. With a playful smirk, you added, “Have a feeling you two won’t disappoint me.”

Yunho caught your eye, his grin playful. “You have no idea how much we’ve been wanting this, do you?”

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you teased, “I might have had a hint… but now, I want a full demonstration.” It was true, tensions had always heightened between the three of you. But given the restrictions and the lack of loose moments like this, it had kept you from exploring each other,until now.

Mingi leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll give you a show you won’t forget.”

Mingi's hands found the hem of your top, pulling it up slowly. “Let me take this off for you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as the fabric slipped away, leaving your skin bare to his hungry gaze. His gaze had you wet down south, aching to be touched and devoured.

Yunho stepped closer, his fingers eagerly working on your jeans. “You look incredible, but let’s make it even better, shall we?” he teased, his breath hot against your ear as he slid your jeans down your legs, pooling at your feet.

The cold air making contact with you sent goosebumps all over your body, excitement coursing through you.A faint sound of water running caught your ears—was it the shower? A knowing look spread across your face. Ah, so that’s what these two had been planning.

Quite steamy, you thought, and utterly exciting.

The idea of the three of you under the shower, bodies pressed together, both your holes stuffed to the brim,had your arousal pooling, your core dripping with desire.

“Figured it out already, doll?” Mingi chuckled, a knowing look in his eyes as he glanced toward the bathroom where the water was running.

“Then, princess shall not wait any longer” Yunho added, his voice low and sultry, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Both of them took your hands, guiding you toward the bathroom. As you stood under the shower, water cascaded down your body, the heat mixing with your own as you surrendered to the moment.

Yunho's hands cupped your breasts, his touch igniting a fire within you. He played with your now-hard nipples as your head rested back on his shoulder, eyes closed, a disheveled mess with your lips caught between your teeth.

Mingi knelt before you, his gaze intense as he admired how the water glistened on your skin. “You’re absolutely breathtaking” he said, his fingers teasingly grazing your inner thighs before moving higher.

Your breath hitched as Mingi's fingers finally found your dripping core, sliding through your folds that left you gasping. “How does that feel, princess?” he asked, looking up at you with a smirk, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“Unbelievably good” you breathed, leaning back against Yunho, who continued to play with your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples, making them harden under his touch.

Mingi’s fingers skillfully explored your slick heat, swirling and teasing, collecting soft moans from your lips. “Cum for us, doll. Just enjoy this moment with us” he whispered, his voice dripping with seduction as he picked up the pace, each back-and-forth movement driving you wild.

Yunho's hands moved from your breasts to your waist, steadying you as Mingi's fingers worked their magic. The tension within you built, a delicious pressure threatening to consume you.

Yunho’s breath was hot against your ear as he kissed the delicate spot, quickening your heart and serving as the final blow that made everything come undone.

With a soft gasp, you surrendered to the waves of pleasure, losing yourself completely in the moment as you released onto Mingi’s fingers.

Your head slumped against Yunho’s shoulder as he held you, and you watched Mingi lick your juices off his chubby fingers before shoving them into Yunho's mouth. The sight in front of you sent butterflies racing in your stomach; watching them taste your slick made your core throb with a desperate need for attention.

Without wasting any more time, Yunho twisted your body toward him, his lips glistening with remnants of your juices as hot water cascaded down his face. His hands pulled you closer, signaling you to jump. You wrapped your legs around his waist, a sense of urgency consuming you. In one swift motion, he thrust his hard, aching length into you, filling you completely.

“God, you feel incredible, baby” Yunho groaned, his eyes dark with lust as he relished the sensation of you around him, your walls hugging him providing a warm yet tempting sensation. He was hungry, yet he held back, waiting for Mingi to join.

Taking the cue, Mingi closed the distance, positioning himself behind you. “You ready for more, doll?” he asked, his voice low and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded eagerly, excitement pooling in your stomach.

With a firm grip on your hips, Mingi pressed himself against you, slowly pushing his cock inside your ass. “You’re so tight” he grunted, a mix of pleasure and disbelief in his voice as he slid deeper. “You’re going to feel amazing filled up by both of us.”

The sensation was overwhelming; the hot water, both your holes occupied, and the intoxicating feeling of being completely claimed by both men. You let out a breathy moan, a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort as you adjusted to the sensation.

“I’ve never felt anything like this. Boys, please move.” you gasped but responded to them, your body trembling with delight.

Yunho tightened his grip on you, his thrusts steady and deep, matching Mingi's rhythm as he began to move behind you. “Just relax and let us take care of you” Yunho whispered against your ear, his breath hot and inviting. “You’re going to love this.”

“We’ve got you, princess” Mingi encouraged, his hands finding your waist, guiding your movements as they both took you to new heights of pleasure. “Close your eyes and let loose.”

You obeyed as their pace quickened, drawing a chorus of moans from your lips, leaving you breathless. The overwhelming sensation, mixed with the heat of the water, only heightened your arousal. The boys were just as breathless, groaning with each hard thrust. Mingi's lips parted in a string of "oh my gods" as he pushed deeper inside you. You could feel him on the edge, just like your own release was building to its peak.

Suddenly, Yunho slowed his thrusts, savoring the moment as he realized both you and Mingi were hovering on the edge. “What’s the rush, baby?” he teased, his voice low and sultry. “We want to feel every single second .”

Mingi chuckled, pressing his chest against your back, his hands gripping your hips firmly. “Let’s take our time” he whispered hotly against your ear. “We want to enjoy you completely.”

The change in pace drove you wild, and you squirmed between them, desperate for more. “Please… don’t stop” you gasped, the need overwhelming you.

“Such a needy little thing” Yunho murmured with a wicked grin. “Just the way we like it.” With that, he picked up the pace again, thrusting into you harder, while Mingi added more pressure from behind, teasing and heightening the electric pleasure surging through you.

The urgency in your core built up rapidly. “I’m so close” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut as everything else faded away, only the two of them and the pleasure they gave you remained.

“I can’t hold on much longer, gonna cum.” you gasped, your body trembling between them. An urged need to release and break apart washed over you pushing you more and more and over the edge.

Yunho and Mingi exchanged knowing glances, their thrusts becoming more conssitent and delicious. “Cum for us, doll.” Mingi urged, his sultry voice in your ear. “We’re right there with you.”

With a final deep thrust from Yunho and Mingi's teasing dicks, pleasure crashed over you like a huge wave. A loud moan escaped your lips as your release hit, sending shock waves through your entire body. “Holy fuck”

Feeling you clench around him, Yunho groaned, his grip tightening. Mingi pressed against you from behind, both men overwhelmed by your powerful release had their cocks twitching for a release.

“Damn, you feel incredible” Yunho breathed, thrusting erratically. “We’re right behind you, princess.”

With one last powerful thrust, Yunho filled you, followed by Mingi, their warmth mingling as waves of pleasure crashed over you once more.

As they pulled out, you leaned back against Yunho, feeling blissfully satisfied. “Best shower ever” you murmured, wrapped in the warmth of their embrace

Truly that was the best shower and the best sex ever.

Yunho and Mingi stepped out of the shower, with Yunho carrying you. They took care of you, drying your hair and helping you get dressed before cleaning themselves up. Being taken care of like this was something you hadn’t experienced in a while, and it felt nice, you heart did a happy dance as you smiled at them, soaking their warm energy in.

Once dressed, you and Yunho settled on the living room couch, flipping through random channels on TV. Mingi soon joined, bringing refreshments, and settled on your left. The three of you cuddled on the couch, with you sandwiched between their warm, muscular bodies.

“What about my dad...?” you trailed off, the thought of explaining this to him crossing your mind as he was set to return from his business trip.

“Let’s worry about that later, yeah princess?” Yunho suggested, stealing a quick peck from your lips.

“Let’s just enjoy being together now, doll” Mingi added, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

Yeah that for the future you to worry. We’ll take care of daddy, lets enjoy the present for now.

For Now, Damsel no longer in stress.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

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lovscb97 · 2 days ago

Text

railway (b.cc.) ༉‧₊˚.

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ TRACK 001: part of the step out series

synopsis: you didn’t mean to get tied up with your best friend’s ex-boyfriend, but sometimes all you can do is hold on tight for the rough ride ahead of you, even if it means going against all the pre-written rules of friendship.

tags: best friend's ex!bangchan x fem!reader, angst, forbidden romance, mutually toxic relationship, morally grey characters, chan and reader are both kind of awful, mention of other idols (rest of stray kids, stayc, enhypen, etc), oc as chan's ex-girlfriend (aeri), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, use of nicknames (baby, darling, etc), very brief pussy slapping, possessiveness, mild dacryphilia, car sex, fingering, sir kink, squirting, jealousy, slight exhibitionism, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation (bitch, slut, etc), dirty talk, very brief mention of strength kink, mirror sex, breeding kink, creampie, brief choking, slight overstimulation, etc

theme board: www.pin.1003 / song link: prod:b.cc

wc: 7.85k

add. notes: welcome 2 the first course >:] i've offered my insights n analysis on railway alr but delving into the meaning of the song n creating a whole fic based off of it was very intriguing for me esp cus i don't usually write based off of music i listen to. i knew i wanted smth wrong to put out but i don't like infidelity n the usual story on toxic situations is tough to pull of so i decided to go down the more 'scandalous' route of sorts n make chan ur best friend's ex instead :3 there's a pinterest board i made for all these fics which for this one u can find linked above to grasp the aesthetics of it n i'd recommend reading this while listening to railway ofc. as always plz make sure u watch out for the tags n dni if ur a minor. also sidenote but aeri (the oc) is not meant to be seen as giselle from aespa but rather i just used that name bcs it's pretty lol just thought i'd lyk that. either way i hope u all enjoy!

. . .

19:23 PM from: dni!!! Wyd?

you swallow thickly at the sight of the text which lights up your screen, eyes zeroed in on the simple three letters which still hold thousands of words worth of meaning in themselves when combined. if it weren’t for the rubber case at the back, you reckon you would’ve dropped your phone with how instantly sweaty your palms become upon having received the message. the way you’re staring at your app, maybe even enough to bore holes into the words displayed back at you, doesn't go unnoticed either, and you barely manage to pocket the device as quick as you'd pulled it out just in time as your best friend approaches you.

“everything okay? you look kinda pale.” aeri frowns once she’s in front of you, voice laced with concern so sweet that it almost makes bile rise up your throat as you attempt to lean back against jake’s kitchen counter to stabilise yourself. she doesn’t seem to buy the eventual shaky nodding of your head that you offer after realising she’d just asked you something that required an answer, but even if she wants to probe you further, she doesn’t, deciding to immerse you in conversation about something your other friends had told her; another one of her gossip sessions with yoon and jungwon, you presume.

her storytelling fades into background noise at some point, for you can’t ignore the heavy weight of the object tucked away in the back of your jeans, still incessantly burning and buzzing with notifications you know you shouldn’t pay half a mind to. you’re well aware that they’re all most likely from the same person; the one individual you shouldn’t and have no right to indulge and mix with to this day; whose bedsheets you’ve found yourself tangled up in late at night alongside dirty noises slipping past both your lips; the very man who remains as sin personified in the storyline of your current life, and honestly might stay that way for as long as you live.

or in other words, aeri’s ex-boyfriend, chan.

your best friend met chan in her final year of university, bumping into him on chance encounter outside her lecture hall and exchanging textbooks by accident. chan had been all smiles when she’d invited him to lunch as an apology for the mix up, often tagging along with her after that until soon enough, they grew close enough and began seeing each other romantically. he seemed to treat her well for the most part, and you were happy for aeri that she’d found a good man worth her time and effort in the world. she’d drag you with her on their outings one too many times, and you’d gotten to know him from those instances, finding him to be a decent match for her.

unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and the spark between them started dwindling. you’re not sure what exactly happened, only able to recall bits and pieces from what aeri had told you mid-sob on your calls about her previous lover slowly becoming distant nearing the final stages of their relationship, so you’ve always just thought it was a mutual decision to cut ties for the betterment of each other. according to her vividly detailed breakdowns though, chan had been the one to suggest calling it off first, and everything came to a screeching halt three years down the line with much screaming and tears from her side. to an extent, their split did shake up things a little between all your mutual friends, but it also didn’t fully stop everybody from engaging with each other. all this brings you to your current situation— waiting in jake’s apartment for the rest of your friends to arrive for a random party he’d decided to plan on a whim.

“yo, guys!” speak of the devil, you think, tugging yourself out of your thoughts as you turn your body to let jake’s figure come into view. he beams at you like a big puppy, his hair flopping in a way that loosely resembles dog ears, and you remember after a split second that that’s just how your friend is referred to as in your group; the resident golden retriever. he parades up to you and aeri as one too, his vibrant smile lighting up the atmosphere in a way that you can’t stop relief from flooding your system at his presence.

“how are my favourite girls doing this fine evening?” he smirks, his usual flirting the same as always, causing aeri to roll her eyes as you chuckle. “har har up yours, sim.” she sticks her tongue out, prompting jake to do the same as he ruffles her hair, to which she shrieks. “oh, by the way,” jake perks up as if he’s just thought of something, completely ignoring your best friend smacking him on the arm lightly over his actions. “y/n, would you be so kind as to get the pack of beer from my car?” he pleads, doe eyes twinkling under the light of the room.

you’re about to groan in protest, not wanting to go back out in the cold and freeze your ass off for a measly few cans of alcohol, but the front door swinging open accompanied by the all too familiar voice you’ve grown acquainted to fills the air, making your stomach drop— chan. chan is here. suddenly, you’re not too opposed to getting far away, and you quickly nod your head rapidly in agreement, not bothering to wait for the way jake lights up at you accepting his proposal before snatching the keys from his hold and darting towards the lift.

chan’s jaw tightens at this. he barely manages to catch a glimpse of you from how you rush out past him, not even able to take in your outfit or face in the dashing haze you leave in. he points his thumb to where you had exited, bluffing something about helping you when jake responds how you’d gone out to grab the load of drinks he’d been too lazy to heave upstairs himself. nobody makes any work to question him when he turns on his heel to catch the elevator himself, thinking nothing of his usual gentleman-like behaviour.

nobody except for a pair of eyes lingering on his disappearing frame that neither one of the visitors in the house manages to grasp onto.

meanwhile, you quickly find yourself in the outdoor parking lot of jake’s building, hugging your shivering body tightly in an effort to warm yourself up against the chilling wind that blows past the trees. the sky has basically turned dark by now, but the streetlamps hanging overhead on the sides of the pavement serve as enough illumination to carry out your task. your breath comes out in heavy smoke to the point you can see it, and you try your best to spot your friend’s car as soon as possible, cheering internally when you manage to do so. after having jogged on over to it, you enter the key into the trunk lock with trembling fingers, twisting it until that same latch you’ve grown used to feeling with your own vehicle opens and makes way for you to push up the boot lid.

you’re about to hook underneath to manoeuvre it open, that is, until a sudden cold hand tugs on the bare skin of your arm, making you jump out of your own flesh. you open your mouth to yell out loud, ready to alert your friends a few floors upstairs that someone is trying to kidnap you potentially when that same hand clamps over it. only when your vision stabilises in your dimly lit surroundings do you recognise chan in front of you, and you feel your shoulders physically drop as you put down your defences, glaring at him when he removes himself.

“why the hell would you sneak up on me like that? i—“

��are you avoiding me?”

his question comes out gruff and annoyed, causing you to blink at the way he’s glowering at you in suspicion. his arms are crossed against his chest, hiding the black button-up you’ve seen him wearing and committed to memory one too many times from how it clings perfectly onto his chiselled shoulders and biceps. it makes you gulp, but you attempt to hide your affected reaction anyways, delivering a scoff in his direction which only makes chan grit his teeth at your attitude. “so what if i am? you know damn well either way without needing me to spell it out for you.” you bite back, moving to turn around when he catches you by the elbow, leaving you to scowl at him.

“what’s gotten into you? just a few days ago, we were fine, yet now you’re ignoring my texts?” he narrows his eyes, holding you in place so you can’t budge away from him. you let out a faint tch at his words, more so at your own susceptibility to succumb to his advances, but chan tongues the side of his cheek after assuming you’re just being blatantly disrespectful towards him. his voice drops to a lower, seductive tone as he speaks up again. “need me to remind you again? you came over last saturday and humped my thigh before squirting on my tong— hmph!“

“god, yes, i fucking remember, okay?” you exclaim in a whisper after having slapped a hand over his mouth this time, eyes darting around frantically to make sure no one heard that. “could you be any more louder? jesus christ.” chan peels you off of him shortly afterwards, his expression souring at the way you address him. something about the anger in his features makes your own rise, and you feel any or all remorse you'd experienced prior to seeing him in person today vanish, replaced with a bubbling hatred of sorts.

you and chan began your weird affiliation with one another around two months ago, exactly a few days after he and your best friend broke up. to this day, you don’t know why he made a move on you, much less why you yourself reciprocated it. sure, you’d always found him objectively attractive when he and aeri were together, and while he may be your exact match of an ideal type to a tee, you would never think to act on the growing tension you experienced for him, especially when he was in a long term commitment with the closest person in the world to you.

it all happened in the most random of occurrences too. you still remember meeting him the night you were out at the convenience store to run errands, catching him hunched over a table in a hoodie and messy hair with two bottles of soju in front. he’d flashed you a polite smile and offered to drink together, which realistically, you should’ve declined. you should’ve turned the other way in disgust and walked out on him to tell your best friend what he’d attempted to do, regardless of whether that would’ve led to something or not. instead, you found yourself in his bed that day, moaning his name as he ravished you under the moonlight streaming through his curtains in your combined drunken craze.

the next morning had been full of hiccuped cries, chan cradling you in his arms despite the scalding touch of his hold gnashing against you and leaving metaphorical imprints that you would never be able to scrub off. each time he soothed you, rubbing your back and kissing your hair, you felt the waves of guilt wash over harsher than the last. he continued to reassure you throughout anyways, telling you it’d be okay and that no one would have to know. blindly, you’d believed him, promising yourself and him to never act on either of your arbitrary lust by not letting go of your inhibitions.

that was the first lie you told yourself.

“y’know, i’m really not a fan of this whole backtalk towards me.” chan criticises, and you laugh bitterly after picking up on his audible disappointment as it hits your ears. “see? there it is again. maybe i’ve gotta teach you some manners, hm?” his tone is sultry once more, leaving you fighting the urge to flush under his gaze. you ultimately lose though, wanting nothing more than to punch him in the face with the way he snickers at your cheeks reddening crimson. instead, you try retain the little dignity you have left as you push against his chest, scanning your parameters with paranoia when he steps closer to you.

“we can’t.” you mumble, clearly slipping. chan’s only response to that is a breathless huff, warm against your face as you peer up at him through your lashes, finally getting a good look at him. he’s wearing his signature hoop earrings today, hair brushed down so his bangs fall over his forehead. the collar of that same dress shirt he’s got on is popped despite a few buttons being undone, leaving the styling choice to highlight his collarbone. that same milky skin you’ve ghosted your nails over multiple times hides underneath the black fabric, leaving you to shiver at the memories of it. it also doesn’t help that the way he towers you is sending your mind reeling into submission way too easily, and you only manage to shake out of it when his fingers trail down to wrap around your wrist, allowing you to feel the cold metal of a ring you recognise all too well press into your joint—

the same half of a promise ring you’d helped him pick out for aeri a year ago.

the realisation that he’s still wearing it hits, and combined with the once again forming shame in the back of your head, it all makes you want to shove him away in favour of storming out of here to tell your best friend everything once and for all. a part of you can sense undue jealousy simmering inside at the fact that he’s still got a piece of her with him too, something you know you have no right to feel, but you try ignore it to your best ability. “chan, we can’t.” you repeat with a hitch in your breath, more so for yourself than him. and yet, you don’t even believe your own words, finding the less rational and weak side of you surrendering to the temptation chan tantalises in you; it overshadows whatever morality you have left.

“d’you really want me to stop?” he breathes out, body sagging far too close into yours for it to be friendly, although you suppose none of your interactions since starting this scandalous relationship have ever been that. his fingers, the very same ones bearing the ring on them, move to wrap around your throat, forcing you to tilt your head up and lock eyes with him. goosebumps prick your skin when you catch sight of the way his gaze is hooded, orbs swirling with black desire he’s begun to reserve only for you in these coming weeks. “because, if you want me to stop, i will.” chan points out. “say the word and i’ll turn around. out of sight, out of mind.” he makes a statement out of it by retracting his hand from you, but the very distinct whine you let out is all the confirmation he needs to press his mouth to yours.

kissing chan always feels like playing with fire. it scorches, and singes, and sears, reducing you to a burnt crisp, yet you can’t help but yearn for the flame he ignites in you. even the way he’s clutching onto you now, pressing forward with a fervour only you bring out in him, has his lips moulding against your cherry stained ones despite not fitting as perfectly as you’d want them to. the two of you are by no means a compatible match for each other; neither of you has made a single good decision ever since you began indulging in whatever you’ve got going on, but you also can’t help but crave the scandalous nature of everything. you’re truly a despicable pair, you think.

“get in the car.” chan’s voice cuts through your thoughts when he pulls away. he doesn’t even give you time to think when he walks over and opens the door, gesturing inside to the warm confines of the backseat. ideally, you shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but alas, you’ve never been one to listen to yourself, instead finding your legs scrambling and following suit to shuffle into jake’s vehicle before the weight of your actions even sinks in. chan’s hot on your trail too, and before you can even get comfortable in the cramped space, he’s returning to making out with you, fingers roaming greedily around the expanse of your skin.

“t-they’ll know we’re gone.” you stutter, moving your face out of his reach to try and stop chan’s movements when it finally dawns on you that your friends had sent you out on an errand you’d taken far too long to complete by now. chan’s only response is to grunt though, tugging you back in for another smouldering kiss that knocks the wind out of your lungs. his hands grasp, pinch, and squeeze whatever part of you they can, until he’s finally decided that he’s had enough foreplay, opting to cage you underneath him and hike up the tight, red dress that’s adorning your body for today’s occasion. “i’ll be quick. i always am.” he winks, and you’re too far gone now to understand that he’s responding to your previous comment, a fact that only makes him chuckle.

“wore this to tease me, yeah?” chan clicks his tongue at the way he has to practically peel off the bottom half of your clothing, the snug fit of the fabric around your curves leaving nothing to the imagination as he bites his lip. he debates whether he’s glad you chose this outfit to show off for him, or if that pisses him off because it means everybody gets an eyeful of your figure; he decides on the latter. “wanted to slut yourself out for my attention? all you had to do was ask, baby.” you shake your head with a whimper, and he raises an eyebrow at your reaction. “d-didn’t.. didn’t wear it for you.” you manage to breathe out, which proves to be the wrong answer because next thing you know, his hand is coming down to smack your clothed core.

you yelp at the sting of his actions, teary eyes blinking up at him in a way that makes chan’s boxers tighten. he’s so close to losing his composure, but he holds back for your sake, not wanting to let you see his cool slip. “is that so? i guess you’re just a dirty girl then.” he sneers, yanking down your soaked panties in one swift motion, leaving you to gasp as the cool air hits your sticky folds.

chan wastes not even one second, knobby digits dragging through the wetness he’s not surprised to find whatsoever. he spreads it over your clit, getting you messier than you already are, especially from the way you appear to leak even more arousal from his movements. he touches you until you’re twitching under his hold, biting back the sounds that threaten to escape you, which seems to be a fact he doesn’t approve of from the way he pinches your nub between his fingers; you cry out softly from the rush of stimulation it shoots through you. “eyes on me.” chan growls, sliding his hand down to circle your oozing hole before he’s abruptly shoving two fingers inside.

“fuck.” you moan this time, loud and clear. this seems to satisfy him, seeing as he rewards you with a steady pump of his digits thrusting into your heat. his speed in fingering you increases quickly, and it isn’t long before he’s scissoring you open, the sloppy sounds of your juices slicking up his fingers and echoing in the stuffy space of jake’s car. you’re probably staining the leather of the seats, but neither you nor chan seem to care about that right now, not when he’s knuckle deep inside your wet cunt and you’re making such pretty noises all for him.

“just filthy, aren’t ya? getting finger fucked in the back of your friends car. i bet your dumb little brain can’t even understand what i’m saying right now.” chan mocks, his tone laced with a level of condescension that only makes you buck your hips up to chase his movements. you know he’s completely right too, because the way he’s thrusting his digits inside you, stroking your warm walls with the tips of them has you seeing stars to the point you can’t even respond back something snarky in return. “all you’re good for is being a nasty toy for sir’s use, hm?” you barely even register his question, only remembering you need to answer him when he pulls his wet hand away to smack you once more, this time over your swollen bundle of nerves.

“y-yes, sir. only a toy for you. jus’ you.” you mindlessly slur out, and chan groans at that. not even a moment passes before he’s sinking his fingers back inside you, curling them up to massage that rough spot which always has you clenching down on him. his expression twists to a smug one when you jerk forward instantly. bingo, he thinks. “that’s that spot there, yeah? the one that has you losing yourself on me?” he coos, but his voice drips with a smidge of venom you can’t quite fixate on just yet. instead, you nod dumbly, spasming around him as you try grind upwards to chase the rising sensation of your climax.

chan leans into your frame, one hand splayed flat onto jake’s backseat above your head to maintain his balance whilst his body hovers over you. by now, your eyes are clenched shut, but he can’t even find it in him to get mad at you over that, not when you’re dribbling down his wrist and mewling so pretty under the glow of the night as he works you towards your orgasm. “c’mon, baby. cum f’me. wanna see you cum so pretty for sir.” he encourages, jaw locked with concentration.

it only takes about one or two flicks of his expertly trained thumb pressing on your puffy clit, combined with the pads of his fingers hitting your g-spot with terrifying accuracy, before you’re shuddering through your climax. a small, clear stream of liquid sprays out the sides of where he’s got you plugged up, and he pulls his hand away in favour of rubbing you over to coax out the last remnants of your high. your quivering body thrashes when he tries to draw out the remaining few droplets again, weakly bringing your arm up to push him away gently when the shocks of overstimulation begin to take over. chan dips down to place one, final kiss on your lips, smooching down to your chin as a way to say you did well. his actions make you heart beat out of your chest, but you don’t say anything about the domesticity of them.

you wonder if he ever treated aeri like this after having been intimate with her.

“go in first. i’ll clean up the car.” chan clears his throat after a short while, not daring to make eye contact with you as he quietly pulls your underwear back up your legs. you watch in silence while he sits up, looking for a rag to fix the mess you two made when that same awkward air you’ve gotten used to facing with him enters the atmosphere, leaving you to try and ignore how it tugs at the strings of your soul as you give a curt nod. “don’t forget the beer.” you remind him before swinging the door open to step outside, finding yourself back in the nipping cold of the winter night.

you try and stand on your wobbly legs to straighten out the creases of your dress, paying no mind to the way your skin echoes with the ghost of chan’s previous touch. behind you, you can hear him rolling down the windows to let the musky smell of sex out of jake’s backseat, and you almost dare to sneak a glance back until deciding against it, knowing it’ll just hurt more. instead, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, opening them to land on the small balcony of your friend’s apartment where the rest of your group seems to have already gathered from the silhouettes you can see through the foggy glass. your conscience feels heavy with the weight of the knowledge that aeri is up there too, but you brush it off, just like all the other times you have.

i didn’t do anything wrong, you tell yourself, i’m still in the clear. that’s the second lie you’ve tried to believe in these last two months. a long sigh escapes your lips at that realisation, but you bite it down when making your way back inside the building, choosing to rack your brain on what shitty excuse you’ll have to provide this time for being gone so long.

. . .

to your surprise, nobody bothers to question why either you or chan disappeared, simply whisking you back in conversation about unrelated topics when you walk in through the door a few minutes before him. as per usual, your heart still feels heavy when you watch aeri laugh at something heeseung and sieun are arguing over, but you cover it up by letting out a noise of amusement yourself, hoping it throws off any suspicion that might be directed your way. you don’t bother turning your head upon hearing jake’s delight at the sight of chan entering his apartment with the very much requested pack of beer too, deciding to force a smile at whatever point heeseung is busy making over looking back no matter how much your body itches to do so.

it’s even worse how from the corner of your eye, you can see aeri shifting uncomfortably on her feet at her ex-boyfriend’s second arrival, her expression dropping in the slightest so as to not draw attention to herself, but it’s still enough for you to notice. it only makes the weight of your actions dawn on you further, and you can’t help but let your mind wander as to what she’d say if she knew what truly went on behind closed doors. despite your best efforts to bury those thoughts beneath you though, you know there’s nothing you can do to make amends to the problems you’ve created yourself. after all, you’ve got to reap what you sow.

the party continues to kick in on full swing after that, with you and aeri both doing your best to keep your distances from chan for all too different reasons. it doesn’t help that you can feel someone’s stare raking across your figure throughout the duration of the evening, and when you finally do decide to sneak a glance in that direction with expectations of finding chan ogling you over, you’re met with a different answer—

for it isn’t you he’s busy looking at, but rather your best friend that’s been glued to your side since the beginning of the night.

he averts his gaze as quick as he’d cast it when you catch him, seamlessly blending back in discussion with whatever nonsense changbin is rambling about this time, acting like he hadn’t just been getting an eyeful of his ex-girlfriend moments prior. you also don’t miss how he fiddles with the old ring that adorns his right hand, long fingers twisting it around the middle digit in a way that’s reminiscent of his past behaviour, or at least based on what you’d often find him doing back then.

his actions spark a memory deep from the confines of your brain, one you wish you hadn’t remembered as the vision of chan asking you to help pick out promise rings for him and aeri crosses your mind. it was raining heavily that day, but he’d insisted that the two of you go out in secret anyways so he could buy his then girlfriend a token of his love and appreciation. he’d claimed you knew her taste the best and could therefore help in selecting a better possible gift for their upcoming anniversary than he ever could.

you’d hesitantly agreed, and although you weren’t sure how it would all play out, you later found yourself sharing an umbrella and visiting various jewellery stores to point out all the designs you knew your closest friend would adore. chan had settled soon on a matching pair for the two of them, beaming in your direction with a bright smile that left you weak in the knees despite however much you tried to hide it. a few days later, aeri excitedly showed off her own silver band to you, buzzing about how he’d chosen the perfect present that she couldn’t wait to replace with a real one in their future; you couldn’t help then but think if he ever told her it was all your idea instead of his.

“hey, can you hold my phone?” your best friend’s voice cuts through your inner replay, and you blink in a daze to find her facing you, expression innocent. “hyunjin asked to play beer pong, and i don’t have any pockets to put it away in safely.” she explains at your confused face, but all you can do is nod as you robotically outstretch your arm to take it off of her. unfortunately or fortunately, that’s when you notice it—

the same matching ring on her hand.

aeri doesn’t pay you any attention when she drops off her device into your awaiting palm, not even realising you’re zeroed in on the jewellery that decorates her left hand with a fire burning in your eyes that you’re both ignorant of. you don’t stop gaping even when felix shakes your shoulder, asking you what you’re so fixated on before leaving you be under the impression that you’re probably just drunk out of your head. meanwhile, you’re still frozen in place, everything around you seeming to slow down.

why is chan wearing a ring he bought for his ex-girlfriend two years ago to a party he knows she’s going to be at? no, why does said ex-girlfriend also have her matching pair of the ring on her hand at a party she too is aware he’s going to be present for? much less, why are either of them hung up on each other to the point they’re carrying around reminders of their past relationship with one another? you know the answer to all these questions, but you don’t wish to sit and delve into them in fear you might throw up at the conclusion they’ll give you. instead, all you can do is squeeze the can of seltzer you’d spiked in your hand dangerously tight out of unwanted emotion, enough for some of the liquid inside to spill out. you can’t be bothered to care about it though, just like how you can’t be bothered to care about how anybody in their right mind could probably see you gawking at chan right now.

you watch as he cracks up at a joke seungmin makes, his head falling back in a fit of laughter you’ve been a happy witness or recipient of multiple times, yet this time it fills you with emotion that you don’t wish to identify in fear it’d mean something more than what you’re capable of confronting right now. even so, you can’t stop the train of questions invading your thoughts at the view in front of you. did he laugh like that with aeri? smile so wide with her? couldn’t help the joy that spread across due to her presence? maybe that’s why he came today, because he couldn’t take his mind off of her, especially seeing as he was wearing a symbol of their time spent before right now.

but, what does that say about you in this picture? were you just a scapegoat to escape all those feelings for him? had you been one this entire time, only deluding yourself into thinking what you both had translated into a situation deeper and could potentially progress into one even more had things happened under different circumstances? the more you think, the more you feel nauseous, and you can’t stop yourself from diverting your gaze to where your best friend is, observing her concentrated face as she attempts to aim a ping pong ball into one of the lined up solo cups. your eyes involuntarily flicker to the ring on her finger once more, its evident shimmer reflecting in the light causing you to clutch your drink tighter.

you’re not a jealous person by any means. you know your boundaries, hence you know chan isn’t yours. he isn’t an object you can own, and neither are you to him. that was the unspoken agreement you both nodded on when you got into this entire ordeal— you’re both free to see other people openly in front of aeri as long as it’s not each other, because the latter you manage in secret despite the shame that surges in you two upon doing so. it doesn’t matter if you wish to stake your claim on him, to see the marks you leave on him evident on his skin the next morning for him to show off other girls who think they stand a chance at him taking them to bed. it doesn’t matter how much your heart aches when you wake up to the blanket strewn aside from his absence, the sheets long gone cold to indicate that he’d left hours ago. it doesn’t matter how much you wish to cling onto his arm in public and profess your.. feelings for him in front of everyone else.

it simply doesn’t matter, it never did. chan’s never been yours, and he never will be anytime soon.

20:51 PM from: Myself meet me at the upstairs bathroom in five

you punch in the message before you can even think, watching it turn from delivered to read in a matter of seconds. the three dots next to chan’s side of texts appear, indicating that he’s typing, but you choose to lock your device rather than waiting like a dog to see him reply. instead, your feet lead you to your designated location, taking one step at a time leisurely as opposed to in a rush so as to not draw unwanted attention to yourself. right as you reach the door handle, your phone pings with a familiar ringtone.

20:52 PM from: dni!!! Reacted with “👍🏻” to your message

you sigh. tonight was going to be a long night.

. . .

skin slapping. heavy panting. low grunting.

that’s all you can hear from where you’re splayed across the sink in the small confines of jake’s bathroom, aside from the occasional thumping of music booming from downstairs. if you strain your ear enough, you’ll be able to make out the lyrics to the cliche song that’s come up on shuffle, but you honestly lack the mentality to care about that right now, especially considering the way chan has your legs pushed apart in favour of drilling his length into you. each thrust is rapid and fervent in nature, seeming to knock the wind out of your lungs to the point you don’t even realise how loud you’re being until his hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth. “be fucking quiet.” he sneers, leaving you to drool everywhere. the only reaction he spares when you try muffle out an apology is a sickening smirk at that too.

“needed this, didn’t you, slut? always need to be filled with some cock like a bitch in heat.” chan chuckles, but there’s a dark edge to his voice that sends shivers crawling up your spine. he presses down on your tongue with the pads of his fingers, and you can’t stop the garbling of spit choking past your lips from the way his thickness nestles deep inside you. each heavy drag of his dick against your rough walls leaves you clenching and attempting to buck your hips forward, but you can’t even manage that with the grip he has on your waist. the mere idea that all chan really needs to restrain you is the simple strength of his one hand sends your mind reeling, so much so that you don’t even realise he’s speaking to you until the hand that was previously in your mouth pulls out to slap light and wet against your cheek.

“i asked you a question, whore.” chan growls, the sound resonating warm within your stomach despite the mean undertone to it as his movements still. you blink up at him in confusion at this point, doe eyes brimming with tears that threaten to spill from the loss of pleasure in a way that has chan damn near finishing. it doesn’t help that he’s buried to the hilt currently, hissing painfully at how you squeeze down on him in involuntary instinct. for a split second, you swear you see the ridges on his face soften, and the manner in which he looms over you feels filled with more comfort than intimidation, but that smidge of emotion vanishes as soon as it arrives. “i said,” chan’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip. “do you wanna get caught?” you rapidly shake your head no at that, and chan cocks his head to the side.

“oh, really?” he muses, nails sliding over to dig into the supple flesh of your thigh, making you whine out loud. “‘cause with the way you’re making so much noise like that, i’d have assumed the opposite.” with a click of his tongue, his actions resume. luckily, all that escapes you is a loud gasp this time, an anxious clamp of your palm over your mouth barely covering up the rest of your lewdity. you wish so desperately to refute, to plead him in favour of slowing down and having some mercy, but the sensation of his bulbous cockhead slamming roughly into that one spot only sends stars in your vision and prevents your previous desires.

your body jerks in chan’s hold even more when his same hand still lubed with your saliva finds it way between where you’re connected, leaving you to suppress a pathetic whimper that longs to bubble out of your throat as he presses the tips of his fingers to your swollen clit. his touch is harsh, filled with an overwhelming need to make you burst at the seams, but the fear that lingers in the back of your head refuses to let you fall apart so easily, not when aeri is barely a flight of stairs from your vicinity. chan decides he isn’t fond of the silence you’re giving him though, pulling out with a quiet mumble for you to get down and face the mirror. he sheaths himself back in just as quickly, setting an unforgiving pace from the seemingly more accessible position, and this time, you really can’t stop the long drawn out moan that escapes you.

“j-just like that, yeah, baby? all those filthy noises are just for me, aren’t they?” he sounds more delirious this time, presumably drunk off the essence of this situation from the possessive gibberish he’s spouting, just like he always does in the heat of the moment. unfortunately for you, you’re no better than him, nodding furiously in agreement as you babble high-pitched and breathy. “so good, sir! s-so, so fucking good, feels so good! wan’ cum f’you, p-please. ‘m a good girl, please lemme cum, please, please, please.” small stutters spew out of you mid-sentence, but neither of you can be bothered by them, too wrapped up in the throes of all-consuming passion and contempt even to register what’s being said.

“such a nasty, nasty girl.. getting fucked by your best friend’s ex. don’t you feel a-any shame?” chan groans almost wearily in midst of his lust-filled haze, eyes catching yours from the reflection of the mirror that’s displaying you getting absolutely wrecked right now. the sight of you so fucked up and in bliss, no coherent thought visible by the looks of your dazed expression and tongue halfway lolling out— it all has him burning with hot, rampant hunger. hunger for you, hunger to claim you. “look at yourself.” he rasps, fingers clutching at your chin to force you into meeting where he is. “look how dirty you are, fuck. what would she say about you wrapped so warm and snug around my cock? hm? think we should— ah. think we should call her in and find out?”

the tears that were brewing in your waterline are streaming down your face by now, horrifically mimicking the disgusting manner in your wetness seeping and dripping down chan’s balls. you feel awful. downright terrible and tainted, forever branded by the searing touch of chan’s skin grazing against yours because that’s what you are, that’s what you have been for the past two months. down from the night you let him lead you into his sheets, following the countless occasions you found yourself returning there, and finally falling to now, your underwear strewn across the tiles of jake’s bathroom as you spread your legs for the same man who broke your best friend’s heart; the same man who you’ve let into yours after very consciously disregarding the repercussions of your actions.

you’re truly a loathsome piece of work.

“think she’d like to watch me fill this pussy up? watch me shoot my load deep inside you over and over again until i’m sure it’s taken?” chan mutters, hot breath fanning against your sweaty neck. “maybe i should breed this stupid cunt full of my seed and send you back out there with it spilling past your legs. that way, every time you sit down, you’ll feel it inside you.” the mental image of his release lodged in your walls as you’re surrounded by all your friends, surrounded by the one person you’ve both been hiding from, all of them oblivious to the way he’s staked his claim on you except for the shared knowledge between you two and you two only— it has you quivering to the point you physically keen in his hold. chan, however, just laughs sadistically at your reaction.

“you’ll feel it as a reminder of me, yeah? a reminder that you’re just as terrible as me. coming to me to get this slutty cunt stuffed even though you know you shouldn’t.” he continues to whisper. “after all, it takes two to tango, darling.” chan makes it a point to tilt his hips up in an effort to ensure his mushroom tip hits your g-spot with precise force, all the while breathlessly uttering more sickening words in your ear in hopes of fulfilling your need for relief.

surely enough, the combination of his cock shoving itself past your opening and his guilt-inducing remarks that only make you sob harder work you up to the point of no return. all it really takes after that is one touch of his thumb to your pulsating nub to eventually have you seizing up in no time, your pussy messily tightening and gushing as your high crashes over you in large waves of ecstasy. it seems to trigger him too, because by the time you even realise you’re there, chan’s twitching and leaking spurts of thick cum inside you. there’s so much of it that it trickles past where he’s got you plugged up, and you barely comprehend yourself pushing a hand near your oozing hole to catch it on your fingertips.

you both come to slowly, ragged breathing that fills the air growing quieter to pair with the musk of the room. chan’s gaze is still trained on you through the mirror, unreadable just like always whenever you’ve made the same mistake again, but you take the opportunity in this instance specifically to raise the hand that’s collected his seed in it to your mouth, proceeding to lick up the droplets of his excess release. even though you don’t catch his stare in the reflection, you can still feel it burning holes through your head, a fact that only leaves goosebumps rising over your skin. it’s only when you pull your hand away once more to catch the last of his remaining cum that he decides to finally interject, grabbing your palm in his coarse one with hooded eyes. they’re blown out when he tugs your back flush into his chest, the impact leaving his length pushing deeper inside, and they’re blown out when his fingers wrap around your neck to give it a slight squeeze, the little loss of oxygen making your mind spin.

“you think that’s funny? teasing me even after i just fucked you? after i left my mark on you and made sure you know that you’re mine?” chan murmurs, lips sultrily ghosting the shell of your ear. you want to fixate on what he’d addressed you as, let it marinate in your thoughts and brood over it for the next weeks to come even if it was just an absentminded slip of the mouth, but your focus is interrupted by the moving of his hips against yours picking up once more. the previously repeated actions send his dick driving into you again, breaching your cervix and pressing deliciously into every nook and cranny in a way that has you nearly losing your footing, but chan is quicker to hold you up with his free hand. “w-wait, ‘m still sensitive.” you manage to tremble out at a particularly well-placed graze of his cock, but chan doesn’t seem to care, grinding into you even more eagerly at your admission to the point you struggle to keep the sounds spilling out you at bay.

there’s a resounding knock on the door all of a sudden, one that makes your breath hitch and your chest twist in uneasiness. some part of you feels wary and on edge, and you would assume chan’s movements would halt at that, but he doesn’t show any signs of stopping, ignoring your frantic attempts to make him do so by holding you in place instead as he begins to pick up the pace. “s-stop, we’ll get caught.” you heave out upon the noise of skin slapping rising in volume. you do your best to stand your ground, to avoid the gradual closing of your eyes and the mushy fog of your brain clouding over in euphoria, but it’s to no avail. you’re about to let go of your inhibitions completely, to forget about what had just happened and throw caution into the wind in order to lose yourself in the moment, until—

“y/n, i know you’re in there with chris.”

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

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ghostboneswrites2 · 10 months ago

Note

Hello! First of all I love your stories so much💖 and hope you're having an amazing day. I wanted to ask if you could write something with this, feel free to decline if not 😊

I have this idea of Daryl and the reader being a thing before the apocalypse, Merle hated his girl and left her closed in a place with loads of walkers around without D knowing(something similar to what happens to him in Atlanta) but she manages to escape and survive thanks to what D has taught her. The group at the prison helps her after finding her tiredly fighting some walkers close to there. D and M are in the woods and the scene of D's back comes and says that the reader was his saviour for staying with him even after that and that they were planning to escape and get married. They arrive at the prison and she punches M in the face and well says to D everything that happened. M gets to see how D gets around Reader and before leaving the prison says to reader to take care of his bro and "sacrifices" himself going to fight the governor, D and r found him already turned and they both cry, promising to take care of each other.

I love the detail here! Plz forgive me, this turned out way longer than I intended. Nearly 5k words! I hope I did your vision justice! It was getting pretty long so I had to cut and tweak some things but I tried make sure to include all your key details!

Separated

Summary: You and the Dixon brothers are on your way to Atlanta to find that refugee center you heard about on the radio before they stopped broadcasting. When your journey is interrupted and you and Merle get separated from Daryl, Merle impulsively leaves you trapped and stranded in fear Daryl would choose you over him if it came down to it. When you're reunited with your love, you face tragedy together.

Note: There are some time jumps here. They're labeled to hopefully avoid confusion. Also some canon dialogue <3 A lot of your backstory with the Dixons wasn't totally necessary but I was trying to create a ~vibe~

18+ MDNI || Warnings: profanity, TWD typical violence, canonically moral deficient character, death and dying, mentions of alcohol and pills

the way he cowers and shrinks away from Merle's walker makes me cry every time omg

Then:

Things went south so fast. The three of you were traveling relatively trouble free. The guys could hunt, and Daryl had taught you a thing or two yourself, so food was never an issue. Finding water wasn't as hard as it would be later down the line. All the supplies left in homes and stores hadn't been completely ransacked yet. It was the beginning of the outbreak. With Merle's truck, Daryl's bike, some weapons and supplies, and the general survival skills you were learning from the two of them, fleeing to the city to find that refugee center had been as easy as something like that could get, until the water ran out.

It should have been an easy pit stop. The town was small. Your grandma would have called it a 'blink of an eye' town, because when you passed towns so small on a trip they'd fly by in the blink of an eye. There was a general store right on the corner, so that was where you decided to start the search. Just some water, maybe first aide and booze. Who knew what you'd find? The truck was parked right outside the store. Daryl wanted a smoke. He said he'd meet you and Merle inside. Then the growls started. Daryl could hear them from a distance, so he knew it was a big herd.

None of you had had much trouble with the big groups of them yet. So far, maybe ten or fifteen at a time. You killed the ones that got too close and fled as fast as you could. No unnecessary risks, that was the rule. Merle always said if he died it would be from something cool like a police shootout or a bank robbery. He refused to go out the way those things took people out. Daryl always said he'd shoot himself before he let them get the chance to eat him alive or turn him. He'd never be a walking corpse. You? Daryl always said you were too pretty to die. You just said you were too much of a badass.

Daryl popped his head inside. There were only two freaks inside and they were easy enough to take down, so you and Merle were just looting by then.

"Incoming. We gotta head out." Daryl announced.

"Just a second, baby brother. I'm lookin' for the whiskey." Merle said.

"Ain't got time for that. I can hear 'em comin'." Daryl insisted. You zipped your bag up with everything you had found so far, including the water, and walked toward your broody boyfriend with a half smile.

"There were exactly three waters left. How's that for good luck?" You said to him.

"Why'd'ya think I keep ya 'round? You're my good luck charm." He winked before slapping the window to get Merle's attention. "C'mon, man! No unnecessary risks!"

You slipped past Daryl and stepped outside, throwing your bag in the bed of the truck. You could hear the moans and groans. You turned your attention in the direction of the noise and you could see the heads peeking up over a hill. Your eyes grew wide as your heart sped up.

"Uh... Guys? We gotta go!" You called out, not taking your eyes off the herd that was slowly coming into view. You had never seen so many of them.

"Merle, come on!" Daryl was growing more aggravated and impatient as the seconds ticked by.

Daryl jogged back to the truck just as Merle was emerging from the little shop. With no sense of urgency in sight, Merle just looked over the bottle of Jack he had found as he casually strolled over to the driver's side. You scooted into the middle seat and Daryl hopped in the passenger spot and slammed his door shut.

"Hurry up, man!" Daryl urged his brother.

Merle grumbled some smartass remark about being afraid of 'a few dead bodies' as he cranked the engine and hit the gas, speeding away.

Now

You were so sore. So exhausted. So ready to just give in, but you couldn't. You refused to give in that easy. Someone told you once that you were too pretty to die, and you took that to heart.

You kept swinging your machete at them as they closed in on you. You were cornered between a building and a fence. What the hell were you supposed to do now? You had no idea, but you were determined to figure it out. You had gotten yourself out of worse situations.

Then

"Gon' have to circle back somewhere to get back on the interstate." Daryl informed, looking at the map.

"I don't need a second driver." Merle waved him off. You rolled your eyes. You were glad to be surviving something so scary with the man you loved, but the third wheel was getting hard to live with.

"Whatever, man." Daryl huffed, turning his attention to the window instead of paying his brother any mind.

You kept your attention on the rearview mirror, relieved to see the herd fading away as the truck rolled forward. Those things really freaked you out, especially when they were all together like that, stumbling and bumping into each other carelessly.

A mile or so down the road, you heard a loud pop and the engine started to sputter. "Ah, hell." Merle sighed.

"What?" Daryl asked, leaning forward to see his brother.

"Gas is empty." He replied, looking down at the dash.

"Are you kiddin' me?" Daryl asked incredulously. "Ya didn't think to check before?"

"I did check, but I thought we'd be back on the interstate by now. Plenty o' cars to siphon a li'l fuel from back there." Merle defended.

"Hate to raise the stakes even higher here," you interrupted. "But, that herd is gonna be catching up soon, so we need to figure something out."

Merle shot you a sideways glance. If it was up to him he would have just left you back home and fled with his brother, but Daryl insisted on picking you up. Now, he couldn't even hop on his bike with his baby brother and sail away to safety because there wouldn't be room for you and Daryl would never agree. He wasn't the greatest brother, but he wouldn't leave Daryl behind either.

"Wha's that?" Daryl suddenly asked, breaking the tense silence as the three of you considered your pressing circumstances.

You both turned your attention to what the archer was pointing out. Just beyond the treeline was a small wooden structure. Some kind of shack.

"A house?" You wondered.

"Nah. Shed or somethin'." Daryl figured.

"Maybe we can hide there and let the freaks pass by. They're pretty stupid, right? Maybe they'll just keep going straight if we don't draw their attention." You suggested.

"Won't even know we're there." Daryl agreed.

"Well then let's quit the yappin' and get over there before they see us." Merle drawled as he pushed his door open. Daryl got out and offered you a hand while you stepped out of the truck. Your posh parents never liked him much, but they never saw what a gentlemen he could really be. You had cut ties with them long before the dead started roaming.

Now

You were beginning to think maybe this was really the end. It really wasn't that many. Seven at the most. But you were just so tired. You lazily swung the blade into a skull and struggled to yank it out. You had climbed on top of a dumpster, so at least they couldn't reach you, but you were still trapped until you could get rid of them. You wondered how stupid it would be to take a quick nap. Surely one of them would reach you eventually. You decided against it.

Then

Without any spoken agreement, the three of you grabbed any supplies you thought you'd need and jogged over to the dilapidated structure. It was vacant and smelled faintly of mildew and rotting wood.

"It'll do." Merle sighed.

"Do? This is a mansion compared to the truck." You remarked, stretching your body. You were stiff from so much sitting.

The three of you watched silently through the cracks in the door as the herd stumbled by with their swinging arms and dragging feet. The smell was something you couldn't get used to, and with so many of them, it was strong. You gagged quietly. Daryl rubbed a hand up and down your back when he noticed.

The three of you really thought you were fine. You outsmarted the dead ones and soon you'd be on your way again. You had never been so wrong about anything before.

Merle got a little too comfortable given the situation. He went and dug through his duffel for his whiskey. He had been drinking so much you wondered if his piss could get someone drunk. The entire time you'd been on the road with them, the man had managed to find liquor everywhere he went. There wasn't a single day he hadn't been drunk, and if there had been, you were sure he'd have a stash of pills to keep him feeling nice. You guessed you couldn't blame him. Shit was rough nowadays.

When Merle found the bottle he dropped it and it shattered. After giving Merle a look that could kill, Daryl turned his attention back to the herd. A few of them were veering off. The sound had caught their attention. Only a few heard, but as they started walking toward the shed, more followed.

"Shit." You whispered.

"This place ain't gon' hold." Daryl added.

"My Jack." Merle complained.

"Hell with your booze, man." Daryl scoffed as some of the dead started to claw at the outside. "We gotta go."

"Go where, baby brother?"

"We could take down the few that are at the door and break for the truck." You thought.

"Nah, too many on the road. But we can run off that way." Daryl nodded toward the back of the shed.

"Okay." You nodded, throwing your bag over your shoulders and readying your machete.

Merle haphazardly hooked his duffel and cocked his pistol.

"No guns. Too loud." Daryl reminded him.

"Relax. It's a last resort." Daryl shrugged, tucking it unto his belt. With a nod to each other, you and Daryl kicked the door open and took down two walkers. Merle was right behind you.

Now

Tires screeched from ahead. You looked up and saw a car. A woman and a man got out of the vehicle and rushed over, taking down the walkers with ease and precision. Gee, you thought. Bet it's nice to have someone that has your back.

The couple walked over to the dumpster and eyed you cautiously, glancing at each other. "You okay?" The man finally asked.

"Could use an espresso." You quipped.

"What's your name?" The woman inquired.

"(Y/N)."

"I'm Maggie." She introduced. "This is Glenn."

Then

Only using your energy on the ones closest, the three of you darted deeper into the woods. They followed, because they saw you and now they wanted you.

Only, there were more in the trees than you anticipated. Usually the woods were pretty clear save for a few stragglers here and there. These woods were not. You wondered why, but there was no time to guess. You just kept running.

Eventually there were just too many. Daryl got pushed further and further away as more and more emerged from behind trees. When you realized you couldn't see him anymore you called for him.

"Quiet girl! He can take care o' himself. You're drawin' more to us!" Merle hissed. You reluctantly obeyed, because you knew he was right. Daryl probably evaded them somewhere and would meet you both back at the truck.

When the running began to take its toll and your chest started to burn, you put more of a focus on searching for somewhere to hide. To your advantage, there was an overgrown cabin not too far ahead. erle peered over his shoulder.

"We're losin' em. Let's get inside an' wait 'em out. Daryl 'll meet us back at the truck when it passes." He strategized well for his inebriated state.

"Okay." You breathed, just grateful for a chance to stop and rest.

Now

"Need some help? Maggie asked, offering you a hand as you slid off the edge of the dumpster.

"Thanks."

"You have a group?" Glenn wondered. Maggie gave him an unsure look. You noticed Glenn looked pretty beat up. You wondered what happened.

"No." You said lowly. You did have people, but you were left behind.

"Well.." Glenn trailed off, looking to Maggie as if to silently ask what they should do with you.

"You can come with us. Can't promise you can stay though." She spoke up.

Then

The cabin had been vacant for a long time. Some of the old dusty furniture remained so you both sat down and just breathed. You handed him a water bottle and sipped on one for yourself while you waited. It felt like hours had gone by. It had grown dark out. Merle peeked out of the window. There were a bunch of them all around, but they had no idea the two of you were in there. It seemed like they lost their lead and just stopped, staggering around in the same spot.

"There's a lot of 'em, but they ain't payin' attention. I say we leave out the back an' sneak back toward the road." Merle suggested. You thought for a second.

"Yeah," you nodded. "Okay."

Just as you passed it by, Merle suddenly shoved you in a closet and shut it behind you.

"Merle, what the fuck, man?" You complained, banging at the door. It wouldn't budge.

"Quiet, now. Don't wanna draw in any unwanted attention." He taunted. You sighed.

"Merle, c'mon this isn't funny."

"'Fraid it ain't a joke, Darlin. Truck's outta gas an' my bike only carries two."

Your heart sank.

"Daryl isn't just gonna leave without me." You reminded.

"He won't have a choice when I tell 'im 'bout how them dead ones took ya down." He mockingly lamented. "It was just terrible, ya know? They grabbed her. I couldn't pull'er away in time before they got to chompin'."

"The hell, dude? Don't do this!" You begged, banging at the door again.

"Look. Ya got your bag in there, got your weapon, got your wits. You'll figure it out." He reasoned.

"Not if I'm trapped!"

"I'm sure you can kick that slab o' wood down if ya try hard enough." He was getting further away by the sounds of it. "Jus' try not to be too loud. Don't want 'em hearin' ya."

Now

"I'd be grateful." You admitted. "I haven't had anywhere to rest in a while. I have some medicine here I'd be happy to share in exchange for a good night of rest."

"Watcha got?" Maggie asked.

"We actually came out her for medicine." Glenn added.

"Some antibiotics, some Benadryl, some stuff for pain. Oh, and I found an EpiPen. I'm allergic to bees, so."

"Antibiotics is what we need." Maggie said.

"Yeah, whatever you need. Thanks again."

They still hit a few stores while you rested in their car. Maggie made sure to grab the keys just in case you tried anything, but you were too tired to try even if you wanted to. When they had found everything they thought they'd need for the prison, they drove you back. Rick and the others were apprehensive, with everything happening with Woodbury and recently losing one of their best fighters. Daryl was also their hunter, their tracker, and generally someone they all relied on.

You explained to them that you were traveling with some people to Atlanta but they left you behind and you'd been on the move ever since. "I'd be glad to sleep outside if it makes you more comfortable." You said to Rick. "I can leave in the morning. I just really need somewhere to sleep."

Rick studied you for an uncomfortably long time before he asked, "How many walkers have you killed?"

"Walkers?" You asked. You'd never heard that term before.

"The dead." He clarified.

"Oh... I don't know, really. A lot."

"How many people have you killed?"

"None." You said honestly. "But there is one person I might beat to death if I ever see him again."

"Why?"

"He left me stranded, surrounded by the dead."

The Next Morning

Rick let you sleep in a separate cell block. He let you know you'd be locked in for a the night but that he'd come get you in the morning to talk. You didn't really care. You just wanted rest.

When he came and got you that morning you were offered a warm meal, which you gladly accepted. You made sure to give them the majority of your antibiotics as a show of gratitude.

Meanwhile, deep in the woods, two rednecks were hashing it out. Name calling, shoving, whatever it took to unleash all the pent up frustrations they had between each other.

See, in all that time Daryl spent with Rick and their group, he began to find a side of himself that was suppressed with his brother around. The only person to ever make him believe he could be good was taken from him before they made it to the quarry. Merle, on the other hand, only represented everything that Daryl was trying to put behind him. Merle was capable of hurting good people or looking the other way instead of helping someone in danger. If only Daryl knew some of the things Merle had really done.

"There was a baby!" Daryl defended as Merle laid into him for risking his own ass to save a family on a bridge.

"Oh, otherwise ya woulda just left 'em to the biters." Merle retorted.

"Man, I went back for ya. Ya weren't there. I didn't cut off your hand, neither. You did that. Way before they locked you up on that roof. You asked for it."

"You know what's funny to me? Hmm? You and Sheriff Rick are like this now." Merle said, locking his two fingers together. "I bet you a penny and a fiddle o' gold you never told him that we were plannin' on robbin' that camp blind."

"It didn't happen!" Daryl snapped. "And we woulda never had to if ya didn't let the truck run out o' gas! And my girlfriend wouldn't be dead!" Daryl's chest was heaving as his eyes stung, threatening to spill fresh tears at the thought of her. Merles eyes flashed something Daryl couldn't quite decipher.

"It didn't happen 'cause I wasn't there to help you!"

"When we were kids.. Who left who then, huh?" Daryl frowned.

"What? Huh, is that why I lost my hand?" Merle rasped.

"You lost your hand 'cause you're a simple-minded piece o' shit!"

"Yeah?!" Merle lost it. He grabbed Daryl by the shirt. "You don't know!"

When Daryl fell to the ground, his shirt ripped down the back. Merle froze. His chest felt tight as he stared down at the gruesome scene left on Daryl's back from years of abuse at the hands of their father. "I -- I didn't know --"

"Yeah, ya did." Daryl's voice cracked as he pushed himself to his feet. "That's why ya left. But (Y/N), she never left. She was always there, man. Always. She was the one who saved me. She protected me. Not you, man!" He wiped a tear as he took a breath between heated words. "We were gon' run away, gon' get the hell outta that town and get married, maybe start a family. I don't know, and I never will thanks to you!"

He did blame his big brother for the loss of his love, but not in the way that he should have. He blamed Merle's clumsiness, carelessness, and negligence. He had no idea that Merle trapped and abandoned you.

Later

Daryl went back home to the prison. Merle couldn't stand too watch him leave, so he followed. Guilt was starting to eat at him, gnawing away at his insides, mouthfuls at a time. He almost felt nauseous hearing about you and what Daryl had planned with you. He tried to imagine his battered baby brother in a nice little house with a wife and kids. Hell, he even tried to picture it for himself, but the image wasn't clear enough for it to seem possible. All either of them had ever known was violence and loneliness. That was why they needed each other. That was why he had to get rid of you.

You had just finished a tour of the prison. Rick told you that you could stay for a while, but he didn't know if he trusted you as one of them. He shared a little about a rival community with a crazed leader. You understood. You never expected to stick around, even if they offered. You couldn't see yourself trusting anyone after what Merle did to you.

You were sitting in the cell you slept in the night before, sharpening your machete and thinking about the things that you couldn't change. You heard distant voices echoing from the other block. It was some sort of confrontation from the sound of it. You snuck over to the cellblock where everyone stayed and peeked around a corner. Glenn and Maggie were blocking most of your view, but they seemed to be the most pissed off. Rick was off to the side trying to mediate.

"You can't let him stay. Not after what he did to Glenn!" Maggie demanded.

"He goes, I go."

You stopped breathing. That voice sent chills up and down your spine.

"Okay." Rick held his hand out, attempting to set forward a solution but the room fell silent as you stepped into view. Merle noticed you first. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Well, I'll shit bricks." He murmured in disbelief.

"(Y/N)?" Daryl breathed, almost inaudibly. Your eyes were welling with tears as you stood just feet away from the man you loved.

Daryl dropped everything and ran over to you, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up. You couldn't even hug him back because your arms were trapped under his. All you could do was let out something between a giggle and sob.

"Daryl." You whispered. Your body felt so perfect against his, just how he remembered. Then, it dawned on him. He set you down and turned to look at Merle, a blend of betrayal and fury flooding his eyes.

"You said she was dead!" Daryl growled.

As everyone around you watched the scene before them unfold, they felt clueless. Daryl had never mentioned you because it hurt too much to bring up. Your feet began moving before you could even think. One second you were standing beside Daryl, then you blinked and you were inches away from Merle, rearing your fist back and striking his jaw with a force you didn't even know you were capable of. Merle stumbled and dropped to the ground holding his face. He moved his jaw around a little before he glared up at you.

"Okay. I deserved that." He accepted.

"Yeah, you did." You spat.

"Hold on. Someone care to explain what the hell's goin' on here?" Rick spoke out.

You turned to Daryl, as if it was he who answered the question. You didn't care to share with the class. Daryl needed to know.

"When we got separated in the woods.." You began, taking a breath. "Merle and I found a cabin. We hid there, waited for shit to blow over, and we were supposed to meet you back at the ruck. Merle figured you'd wait for us there."

"And I left her." Merle admitted from behind you. You glanced back at him momentarily. You were surprised at his accountability.

"In a closet." You added spitefully. "The place was surrounded. Took me forever to get out of there and even longer to get back to the truck. By then, you two and the bike were gone."

Daryl's nostrils flared with rage. His fists were balled up so tight his knuckles turned white against his tan skin. His shoulders rose and fell with each heavy breath he took. He was so pissed, so hurt. The weight of the revelation had weighed him down so heavily that his boots felt like they were nailed to the ground. Otherwise, he would have lunged at his brother and beaten the teeth out of his skull. All that time Daryl spent in pain, mourning the loss of someone who wasn't gone. All because his brother didn't like her.

"Why." Daryl growled.

"The bike only fit two, man."

That Night

You sighed contently as Daryl traced little circles over your shoulder. Once it was decided to leave Merle in a cell, and everything had been explained to Rick, you and Daryl retired to his own cell to enjoy your reunion in private. He was laying on the bottom bunk, one foot crossed over the other as he stared into space, enjoying the feeling of your head on his chest and your arm and leg draped over him.

"I missed you." You whispered, breaking a long, comfortable silence.

"Mm." He hummed. "I mourned ya every day. I shoulda gone back."

"Don't do that. We're together now. Don't blame yourself."

"Shoulda never believed 'im. I knew how jealous he was. Thought he'd get over it." He confessed. You smiled softly and nuzzled up closer, taking in a whiff of his sweaty scent.

"Me too." You agreed. "But he left me with my bag. He didn't want me to die. I think he was afraid if only two of us fit on the bike you'd leave him behind."

"Nah. Woulda had your sweet ass ride the handlebars." He teased, twirling a finger through your hair. You giggled, then you paused.

"Wow. I think that's the first time I've laughed since we got split up." You realized.

"Sure ya didn't find no boyfriends along the way?" He joked. He always did that when things felt too heavy between the two of you. You rolled your eyes, not that he could see it.

"You say that like I've had a lot of those. We've been together since we were like, twenty." You laughed.

The Next Day

Merle and Michonne had disappeared. You learned that the leader of the opposing community -- the Governor, as they called him -- wanted Michonne in exchange for peace, but Rick refused. Merle had likely taken her as a peace offering since he knew what the Governor was capable of.

You and Daryl left to search for him. He took you to a spot where they had previously convened for negotiation. The two of you did a brief sweep of the area before stumbling across some walkers. You each took one down after another until you were left with only one. You froze when you registered what -- or who -- it was.

A sob immediately escaped Daryl as he fell backwards. You blinked back tears as you crouched down behind him and pulled him against you, rocking gently as Daryl wept. Merle's dead body clumsily pushed itself off the ground and onto its feet. You stood first, hoping to put it down before Daryl had to do it himself, but Daryl was quick to push past you. He violently shoved the corpse. It sumbled back, but it walked toward him again. Over and over Daryl shoved what was left of his brother as he cried. Tears were freeling spinning down your cheeks.

When Merle's body fell on its back, Daryl crawled on top of it and plunged his knife into its skull over and over and over until he collapsed.

You wanted to intervene, to console, to be his rock, but something told you to let him get it out. He needed to. So, you waited until Daryl's blind rage simmered down and placed an assuring hand on his shoulder.

"Wanna bury him?" You whispered.

Daryl shook his head.

"Okay." You relented. You glanced around your surroundings and noticed a patch of wildflowers off in the distance. "I'll be right back." You squeezed him gently before jogging over and gathering each and every flower in the patch. When you walked back over to where Daryl was hunched over Merle, he looked up at you with wet, red eyes. When he clocked the flowers, he gave a single nod and stood up beside you. You split the flowers in half and handed Daryl a bundle. The two of you placed them each individually around Merle's corpse.

You thought back to a conversation you had with Merle the night before, when you couldn't sleep and went out of the cell to get some water.

"Take care of my baby brother, will ya?" Merle's voice echoed through the quiet block.

"I always have."

"We'll take care of each other." Your vice cracked as you spoke. "Promise."

"Promise." Daryl whispered.

Join the taglist! || Masterlist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow

#daryl x reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd

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starsworldd · 2 years ago

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➴ astro observations pt 4 ➶

reminder to go listen to domino 1 by iamsagsssssss out on all platforms now <3 (i know the artist very well i promise it’s good ⭐️

remember to please take the following with a grain of salt ⭐️

⥺ mars conjunct mc people are very hard workers but are often met with conflicts with people at work also. could be business entrepreneurs

⥺ people who have moon sextile venus are very kind and endearing <3

⥺ scorpio mercuries often hide weird stuff (doesn’t have to be innapropiate but it’s just weird and odd) on their phones and more than other people don’t show people their photos, social media, texts, etc…

⥺ mercury conjunct uranus people are some smart people let me tell you. i find that they’re often pretty witty and good with defending themselves in arguments too!

⥺ sun in 6th house people get burnt out really easily but moon in 6th house people seem to be working 24/7 and seem unbothered by it?? maybe they just hide it better. moon in 6th house people are also really smart. i want to look more into that though, because moon and sun are both luminaries so you’d think they’d both get pretty burnt out being in the 6th house of daily work and service…

⥺ the 8th-9th-10th houses i think explain how one finds their purpose in life and their calling. of course all the houses are involved in this because a chart works as a whole story, but i want to focus specifically on these 3 houses: we start at the 8th house of trauma and transformation. 8th house transits usually signify a new beginning (though it usually doesn’t come without trouble and hardship) and it is in the 9th house that we find what we can do to help ourselves out of hardship. what do we believe in? what do i learn out of this difficult time? what experiences can i engage with that help me be a better me? pluto (ruling the 8th house) is the ruler of the underworld and from there we literally go to the king of the heavens (jupiter, ruler of 9th house) to one’s calling in life, signified by the 10th house. it is through one’s hardships and main battles (8th house) that can show us how we can put our best selves out into the world (10th house). sorry to rant, i just think this is so cool to point out! if you guys want i can make a post for the rising signs on this topic ⭐️

⥺ pisces venus people are obsessive over their crushes

⥺ venus conjunct saturn natives may not be that interested or rushed into getting into serious partnerships, in fact they seem to not prefer it, usually due to a past experience unfortunately :(

⥺ does anyone else get their period when the moon crosses their ascendant? just me? okay☺️

⥺ aries sun people are so attractive

⥺ people usually say that musicians with the same moon sign as you resonate with you more, but, this is kind of an iffy observation BUT, artists with their moon in your fourth house may also seem to make music you really like as well or you may just like them in general

⥺ cancer risings having an aries midheaven meaning that their life’s ambition is about defining themselves and being themselves unapologetically <3

⥺ people with venus in a detriment sign are often really attractive (aries, scorpio)

⥺ cancer and leo risings have a natural almost child-like glow to them. also really attractive placement in my opinion

⥺ scorpio risings and mars are often perceived as mean and intimidating. same for moons (unless if there’s aspects to venus i’ve noticed)

⥺ mars in gemini 🤝 over-competitive in games (especially games to do with the hands like spit, word hunt, certain sports, etc..)

⥺ moon conjunct jupiter people are so wholesome. they have very good morals and care deeply for the well-being of others. such a lovely placement <3

⥺ bucket-shaped chart is giving “you have all this pizazz and potential but…(insert planet here) is giving you some obstacles”

⥺ moon square neptune could be an indicator of a parent who struggles with alcoholic or drug addiction

⥺ chart ruler square neptune can give poor perception as to how you’re perceived by others or anxieties about it

thank you for reading! hope you’re well ! ⭐️

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chimcess · 4 months ago

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Nachash || jhs (Prologue)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (ft. Taehyung) Genre: Supernatural AU, Demon!Hoseok, Doctor!Reader, Smut, One night stand, Angst, Horror AU, Incubus! Hoseok, 90s AU, Yandere!AU (that's putting it lightly) Rating: 18+ (don’t interact if you’re a minor) Word Count: 6.6k+ Summary: After losing both of her parents, Y/N decided to sell her home in Florida and move back to New York City, a place she barely remembers despite having lived in Harlem for a decade. Her reality begins to blur as she loses track of dreams and waking life. At the center of this confusion is Hoseok, a sweet man who gives her an eerie sense of déjà vu. She can't shake the feeling that Hoseok isn't who he claims to be, and she's haunted by a strange bar that keeps appearing in her nightmares. Warnings: Wet dreams, explicit sexual contact in those dreams, graphic violence, hard dom Hoseok, demon Hobi acting like the horrible creature he is, emotional manipulation, DEATH, alcohol consumption, sexual harassment (brief), dream manipulation, stalking, vampire mind control, asshole Hobi (seriously), morally grey Taehyung, morally grey vampires in general, vampire bar, use of pagers because this is the early 90s (I have pager code translations at the bottom of the page), lots of cursing, vaginal fingering, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, sadistic Hoseok, death by sex in her dreams, did I mention how horrible of a person this Hobi is?, mans is an obsessive stalker, and this is just the prologue because Tumblr's new rules are weird and don't make sense, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: I've had to split this into two seperate parts since Tumblr does not allow posts over a certain line count anymore (boo!), so I'm giving you guys the beginning section first! This entire story will be based in the 90s and will have a lot of pretty dark elements attachted to it. I really wanted to force myself to write a character that is so out of my wheelhouse it made me uncomfortable-- and that's exactly who incubus Hoseok is in this one. Happy Halloween everyone!

Next || Released early on AO3: here

August 1992

My bones cracked, the sound echoing through the sterile silence, and I struggled to catch my breath. A thin layer of sweat clung to my skin, and I patted myself down to make sure I was still awake, still alive. Slowly, the panic subsided as I took in my surroundings. The bright fluorescent lights above made my eyes ache, but their harsh glow was a strange comfort. I was still in the hospital. The bed beneath me creaked as I sighed and flopped back down.

The nightmares had been haunting me for a while now. I couldn’t pinpoint when the first one came, but it had been two months since they turned sexual. The worst ones hit during my 24-hour shifts, as if my mind was playing some twisted game. There was always a man—always the same man—with golden eyes that glowed in the darkness. His skin was soft, supple, and disturbingly perfect.

Even when I closed my eyes, his perfect face flashed in the darkness behind my eyelids. It always ended the same way. I would climax, my body thrashing violently, only to look up and see his skin peeling away, ashes raining down, with fire slipping through the cracks. My own body would begin to burn, and I’d scream in horror as his once-perfect face revealed a skull with flames and black smoke oozing out. I would wake up just as his skeletal hand reached for my throat. The scenario changed, but the ending never did.

Sighing, I fumbled around for my phone. When I found it under my pillow, alongside my watch, I realized that I was due back in twenty minutes. I groaned. There was no going back to sleep now. I carefully climbed off my bunk, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Dr. Boseman was fast asleep, blissfully unaware of my nightly torment. She still had another hour before she had to return to the floor. I didn’t bother looking in the mirror. The ER was filled with messy doctors, and I would be no exception. Slipping my shoes back on and shrugging on my white coat, I quickly put on my lanyard and left the little room.

It had been a relatively slow night. We all knew better than to say the dreaded “Q” word, but that didn’t mean we weren’t aware of the unusual silence. The most excitement we had was a car accident victim, and he would survive. My attending physician, Dr. Kepler, was at the nurse’s station laughing with some of the nurses.

“Morning, Doc,” came Shannon’s voice, the night custodian.

“Hey, Shan, how are you?” I smiled at the elderly woman.

“I’m fine. About to clean some bathrooms.”

“Good luck with that,” I waved, knowing the small talk was over.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need it.”

Dr. Kepler smiled when I was close enough to talk. He was a handsome man with broad shoulders and pearly white teeth. I knew better, though. He had a bad habit of cheating on his wife with residents. He had never shown any interest in me, most likely because I never treated him differently. Some of the girls were too friendly with him and lost their professionalism, and he took advantage of that. As much as he disgusted me, I had to admit he was one hell of a doctor.

“Dr. L/N,” he greeted.

“Evening, Dr. Kepler,” I replied. “How’s it going, Angie?”

The tech beamed at me. She had started working at the hospital around the same time I had begun my residency, and we made fast friends. On quiet days like this, the two of us would sit at the desk and shoot the shit. She gave me a little wink.

“Oh, you know, paperwork and stuff,” she replied.

“One of those days?”

“When isn’t it?” She rolled her eyes.

“I feel your pain,” Kepler forced his way into our conversation. He was dreadfully boring, so I chose to ignore him whenever this happened. Typically, he would realize no one was paying attention to him and leave. “I had to help out in L&D tonight, and let me tell you, I am glad I did not go that route. Couldn’t imagine having to deal with hysterical females all day.”

I grimaced. He was such a pig. Angie rolled her eyes but kept her mouth shut. If she spoke up, he would never leave. A few nurses gave half-hearted replies, and I caught the eyes of Issic, one of the nurse practitioners who helped out in the emergency room. Normally so well-behaved and soft-spoken, the large, teddy-bear-like man glowered at the doctor. If looks could kill, I could not say Dr. Kepler would be dead, but I had to admit he would be majorly hurt. Still, no one called him out on the gross comments. We never did.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow,” Dr. Kepler bid us goodbye, his rant about how stupid specialties other than cardiology are.

Angie twisted her nose in disgust once his back was turned. She disliked him more than I did. He made obvious advances toward her, something that made her and everyone else at the station uncomfortable, but there was not much we could do. I told her to report him for sexual harassment, but she never did. Nor did anybody else. I had never noticed how little we stood up for ourselves before.

“Glad he’s gone,” Mariah, an RN, commented.

“Creep,” another tech said.

“Anyway,” Angie did not acknowledge them. “I’m going out for drinks with some of the other nurses. You want to come?”

“Where at?” I checked my watch. I would have to begin my pre-rounds soon.

“This new bar Dauphine. Selene went a few weeks back with some friends of hers.”

“I’m not in the club scene,” I reminded her.

I knew Selene, not well, but I did know her. We met at Angie’s Christmas party last year along with a few of her other friends. I had left early but not before Selene had started to bump and grind with anyone she could get her hands on. This included Jeon Jungkook, the local wack-job-false-prophet-wannabe-fortuneteller and my cousin’s boyfriend. The two ended up having sex in the back of his Impala where said cousin found them in the middle of the act. Jungkook said it was his “destiny.” Selene simply laughed and was right back on his lap. I did not care much for her after that.

“There are only certain rooms like that. The main area is like a lounge. She said it was chill until they went dancing.”

I hummed. It had been a while since I had gone out. Maybe it would be a nice distraction, especially with the weird dreams I’d been having.

“When?” Angie smiled wide. She knew she had won me over.

“Thursday. I made sure to get a day you weren’t on call.”

And then my watch began beeping, signaling my return to work. Angie pouted her bottom lip out and batted her eyelashes. I smiled and shook my head.

“Duty calls,” I turned around and began walking away. “See you Thursday,” I called behind me.

“Fuck,” I sighed, throwing my head back.

“You’re so wet,” the man groaned, releasing my clit.

I squirmed underneath him, legs shaking, and breathing erratic. The man chuckled darkly, sticking a third finger in. I cried out once more.

“You’re such a fucking slut,” he rasped before slapping my right breast.

I screamed, the pain and pleasure mixing so many times tonight that I could no longer discern the two. He slapped the other side. Tears fell from my eyes.

“I’m going to take my time with you,” his voice felt further away than it had before.

His fingers were gone, and I whined. I hardly recognized the person I had become. Never had I begged for a man’s touch or wanted rough sex. I knew he could do anything to me, and I would not complain. I knew that he knew that as well. I also knew that he loved it. A sharp, painful slap was delivered to my already aching pussy. Another scream.

“And when I’m done,” slap, “I’m going to devour you.”

And I came undone for the third time.

I adjusted my dress again, feeling its snugness a little too keenly. It had been ages since I’d gone out, and Angie’s insistence on looking “sexy” felt like a cruel joke. Most of my wardrobe consisted of scrubs and old college hoodies, so my little black dress, tucked away in the back of my closet, had to do. Back when I was nineteen, it had fit like a glove. Now, it clung to my newer curves, which weren’t so new anymore. Should I change?

Groaning, I fell back on my bed. What am I doing? If Angie were here, she’d tell me to stop acting like “such a virgin” and laugh. She always laughed hardest at her own jokes. According to her, being with less than three guys by age twenty-three was unheard of. The fact that I was pushing thirty and had only been with two was some sort of medical anomaly to her. The virgin jokes had been annoying at first, but I’d learned that was just Angie’s sense of humor. Childish, yes, but she was likable enough to forgive it.

I sat up and looked at myself in the mirror again. The dress looked good, better than I expected. So why the apprehension? Struggling to pinpoint the source of my anxiety, I finally gave up. I threw on a leather jacket and started putting on the finishing touches to my look. I was meeting everyone at the club since Angie lived on the other side of town. She had kindly offered to pay for my cab. After texting her that I was ready, I slipped on a pair of black boots and stepped outside to wait for my ride.

The night was cold, unusually so for August, even for New York. Adjusting to the climate had been tough. Originally from Jersey, my family had moved to Florida when I was a child. I’d gone to Tulane for undergrad and then moved to New York for med school. After graduating from Columbia two years ago, I started my residency at Harlem Hospital Center. I was planning to stay for my ICU fellowship.

A gust of wind ruffled my clothes, and for a moment, I swore I felt phantom hands caress my hips. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine. My mind was still on edge from the nightmares. Last night’s had been particularly vivid: horns had sprouted from his head before he ripped a chunk of my breast out with his teeth, blood dripping onto my sheets as my screams echoed off the walls.

My phone rang, its sharp tone startling me. Angela had pressured me into getting a cellphone a few months ago, and I was still getting used to the intrusion. Handy at times, sure, but mostly an annoyance. The bulky Nokia was far too cumbersome.

“You in the car yet? The driver’s name is Jimin.”

As she said it, a pair of headlights turned the corner, and the car slowed down.

“About to get in now,” I said, eager to hang up. The assumption that I was wealthy because I had a cellphone always embarrassed me.

“God, I’m so excited to see you!” Angie squealed, the sounds of the club already drowning her out. I regretted agreeing to come out. “The password is Conti. Whatever that means.”

I smiled. “It’s a street name in New Orleans.”

The car pulled up to the curb, and I quickly opened the door.

“I’m about to get in the cab,” I said, buckling up. “I’ll see you in a bit, Ang.”

“Page me when you get here!”

The ride was quiet. The driver greeted me, asked for my name, then lapsed into silence. Soft R&B played in the background. To distract myself, I sent a quick message to my mom and listened to the driver quietly singing along. He had a nice voice. Just as we pulled up, TLC came on, and I felt a pang of disappointment that I wouldn’t get to hear him sing along. I thanked him before getting out. Jimin drove off seconds after I closed the door with a polite ‘goodnight.’

The alleyway leading to the club was less intimidating than I’d expected. Angie’s description of a long, red-lit path had conjured far worse images in my mind. The lights were bright enough to see by, and the walk was short. Voices drifted from outside the club, easing some of my tension. Maybe the rumors were just that—rumors.

Dauphine had a reputation for attracting the town’s freaks. Drugs, alcohol, sex parties that ended in blood-splattered walls, and people who went in but never came out. The rumors spiraled out of control after Namjoon Kim was found dead outside. Typical media frenzy—no one cared when ten prostitutes went missing, but a rich CEO gets shot, and it’s front-page news. I rolled my eyes. Some things never change.

A group of friends stopped talking as I approached, and apprehension churned in my gut. Bile rose in my throat, but I forced it down. I couldn’t bring myself to look at them. Their presence was enough to leave me shaking. One of them snickered, and I shivered. Without even glancing at them, I knew they’d be terrifying. The bouncer opened the peephole in the door.

“Conti,” I said, my voice harsh.

The door opened seconds later, and I practically ran inside, shoving past the bouncer without much care. He didn’t seem to mind my rudeness. Without their eyes on me, I could finally breathe. I paged Angie to let her know I was here.

Angela: 110 307

Angela: 209

Y/N: 08

I shoved my pager back into my bag and started navigating the maze of the bar. The nurse had been right; it was more subdued than I had imagined. Red and black dominated the color scheme, with large sofas and booths scattered about. Neon signs pointed to the restrooms, and the place was pleasantly devoid of orgies or bloodbaths. I felt a wave of relief—no strobe lights, no thrumming dance floors.

A few minutes later, I found the bar. Only one man was seated there, engaged in a tender conversation with the bartender. She caressed his cheek, and I melted at the sight. It was heartwarming to see such affection in a place rumored to be so dangerous. I doubted many would be comfortable with their partner working in a place as infamous as this.

Respecting their privacy, I took a seat a few stools away and picked up a small drink menu. Angie was nowhere in sight. I stifled a laugh; the menu was a mix of classic cocktails and blood types listed underneath each one. For a place as notorious as this, I hadn't expected it to be a vampire-themed bar. I was already excited to see the dance floor. Themed bars in New Orleans had always been a blast during my Tulane days.

"Good evening," the bartender's voice was silky smooth.

I smiled. "Hi."

"What can I get for you?"

Suppressing a grin, I said, "I'll have a dirty martini. Shot of O negative."

The chuckle slipped out before I could stop it. The bartender smirked, her skin glistening under the red lights. The man at the other end of the bar looked at me, his eyes wide, before bursting into loud laughter. Eyes turned towards us, the sensation making my skin crawl, but I stayed composed. The bartender leaned in closer.

"Are you okay with cherry liqueur?"

I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

She laughed. "Then you don't want that shot, babe."

I nodded, glancing at my nails. Where was Angie? Rolling my eyes, I groaned. She’d probably run into some guy and forgotten about me. I straightened up, trying to see over the tall booths scattered about. No sign of her blonde head anywhere. With a sigh, I gave up. She’d show up eventually.

"Looking for someone?" The bartender slid my drink over.

"Oh," I clutched my chest, startled. "Just a friend of mine. She got here earlier but I can't find her. She said she’d come get me."

"I might’ve seen her." Her brows knitted in concern.

"She’s tall," I gestured, "really skinny. Blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s wearing a blue sequin dress."

The bartender nodded. "Yeah, I saw her and a couple of girls head to the back. She ran off with a guy not too long ago."

I groaned. Of course, she did. I must have missed her on my way in. Sinking into my chair, I threw back my martini, ripping the olive off the toothpick. My annoyance was palpable. I tried calling her, but there was no response.

Y/N: 420

Y/N: 3011

After a few more failed attempts, I paged Monica, another tech from the hospital I was close with. I used her last name; there were too many Monicas to keep track of. Her code number was written down on a piece of paper in my wallet.

Y/N: 221

"Hey," the bartender called out.

She seemed hesitant to speak. I felt a pang of guilt for making her uncomfortable. She probably thought her tip was on the line. I willed myself to calm down.

"Sorry about that."

"No worries," she replied, waving me off. "Just… be careful. We get some characters in here. I’ll keep an eye out for your friend."

I smiled at her. "Thanks."

"Anytime. If you need anything, just ask for 'Bootsy,'" she winked before taking my empty glass and returning to her boyfriend.

My pager buzzed.

Everson: 419

I rolled my eyes. I hated technology outside of medical settings. Pagers were useless for meaningful conversation. Luckily, Monica carried her cell everywhere, flaunting her family’s wealth. Her phone was much nicer than mine.

"Hey babe!" She shouted over the music.

"Angie left," I spoke louder than necessary, hoping she could hear. "The bartender saw her leave with a guy."

Monica laughed, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. We were too different to get along beyond pleasantries.

"Go Ang!" She giggled drunkenly. "We’re all in the back."

I rolled my eyes. "It’s my first time here."

"Bar, take a right, walk straight until you see a bunch of doors."

"What’s the entrance look like? Everything looks the same here."

"The door is black with a purple bead hanging off the handle," she hiccuped, then burped. "The lights around it are really red."

Annoyed, I shoved my phone into my purse and slid off my chair. The long hallway was daunting. This part of the bar was dimly lit and far more unsettling. Unlike the eyes on my back earlier, there was no one here. The jazz music faded, and I fought back a shiver. This place was creepy.

I went to the end of the hall only to find it empty. No door, no beads, nothing. Monica had given me the wrong directions. As frustrated as I was, I couldn’t be too upset with her. She had no idea what she was talking about and already had a few drinks in her system. My anger towards Angela only grew. I sent her another text, seething, and started to wander again, hunting for the elusive door.

The nurse was right; this place was a labyrinth. High ceilings and narrow passages could make even the most fearless person feel claustrophobic. I had to hold my breath when the walls seemed to close in. Aimlessly, I roamed, still finding nothing. The longer I walked, the more convinced I became that this lounge had been a catacomb at some point. From the outside, it didn't look nearly this expansive. My heels clicked loudly in the eerie silence. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I glanced around nervously.

"How the hell do you get lost in a bar?" I cursed myself, turning back the way I came. The bartender was nice enough; maybe she could help.

"It's a lounge, sha," a voice said behind me.

I screamed, flinching, and spun around, losing my footing. I grabbed the wall, but the impact scraped my arm against the rough bricks. The person offered a hand, but I ignored it, picking myself up and glaring at the stranger.

He was gorgeous—tall, slender, with broad shoulders and lean muscles under a white button-down shirt. His hands, large with long, piano fingers, slid back into his pants pockets. His doe eyes sparkled with amusement, and his grin was wide and boxy.

"My apologies," his voice was honeyed. "I didn't mean to startle you."

I kept glaring. "Startle? You nearly gave me a heart attack."

He snickered before his eyes fixed on my arm. "You're bleeding."

I looked at my shoulder, noticing the rip in my jacket and the blood seeping out. Throwing my hands up in exasperation, I yelled, feeling tears welling up. Tonight had been a disaster from the start—the dress, the people outside, Angie ditching me. Every part of it felt like a waste of time. I should just go home.

"Are you okay, sha?" he asked, gently touching my arm.

I laughed bitterly. "Does it look like it?"

"No, you look upset."

"Great detective work, Captain Obvious," I snapped, rolling my eyes and yanking my arm away. "And it’s pronounced cher, not sha."

He stepped back, his smile never faltering. He seemed amused, which I found odd, but I couldn’t walk away. I didn’t like him. He was creepy, even in his beauty, and his eyes reminded me of the group outside. Yet, my feet felt rooted to the ground, as if frozen in fear.

"No, cher, it's sha where I’m from."

I sniffled. "Louisiana, huh?"

"Born in France, but my family moved to New Orleans when I was young. I learned Kouri-Vini from a trumpet player in the French Quarter."

Embarrassed by my outburst, I nodded. Trust me to correct the grammar of a Frenchman. The night’s mood soured further, all my hopes for a good time dashed. Still, I couldn't deny a strange attraction to the stranger. His presence, unsettling yet warm, invited me to stay.

"You looked lost."

"I am. Trying to find my friends, but I have no idea where to go. They said 'the back,' like that’s helpful. I’ve been wandering for at least thirty minutes."

He placed a thoughtful finger on his chin. "You really shouldn’t walk around alone," he warned. "There are a lot of unsavory characters here."

"Are you an Anne Rice character or something?" I scratched my shoulder, wincing at the sting. "Why are you talking like that? It’s weird."

"Should I apologize?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Not if you can get me back to the bar."

He laughed. "I believe that can be arranged."

"You're doing it again." This time, we laughed together.

The walk back was shorter than I’d expected. He moved silently, with perfect posture, his perfection unsettling. Too symmetrical, too beautiful, and far too polite for someone who looked younger than me. As the jazz music grew louder, I learned he played the saxophone and trumpet for years in New Orleans. He opened his first bar, Midnight Moon, a few years ago and moved to New York City to branch out.

"What do you do for a living?" he asked.

"I’m a resident."

"Doctor," he whistled. "Very impressive."

"Not as impressive as being a rich, successful CEO in your twenties."

He laughed loudly, drawing a few looks. On cue, I lowered my head, feeling strange. Normally confident, here I felt the need to stay unseen, their eyes on me unnerving.

"What’s your name?" he asked, surprising me.

"Y/N," I answered, meeting his gaze.

He smiled, dazzling and unsettling. "I'm Taehyung."

"Nice to meet you, Taehyung," I said, my heart racing.

His eyes were a strange color, almost black with flecks of red under the lights. They were beautiful, but the spell broke, and I looked away again, feeling uneasy.

“There’s someone here who wants to see you,” Taehyung said, his voice rasping, almost angry. “But I don’t want to share you yet.”

I sucked in a breath, startled by his proximity. He had moved closer until we were chest to chest. I breathed him in—freesias and honey. My mouth watered, but I stepped back with effort. Taehyung didn’t follow.

“It’s probably my friend,” I said, noticing the bartender’s boyfriend staring. “We were supposed to meet here.”

“Y/N,” Taehyung’s eyes locked onto mine. “Remember what I said about unsavory characters.”

I nodded, dazed, as he brushed my hair behind my ear.

“Don’t leave with it, sha,” he whispered, sending a shiver up my spine.

I was too stunned to respond. Whatever Taehyung had said flew over my head as I placed my hand on the cheek he kissed. The skin still tingled where he had touched. When I looked up, he was gone. I spun in a circle, but there was no sign of the man anywhere. I made eye contact with the guy at the bar again and felt uncomfortable going up to him. He was frowning at me.

Taehyung had said someone was waiting for me, and the only person I could think of was Angie. She must have decided to come back after seeing my messages. Her hookup must have been lackluster if she came all the way back here. I chuckled to myself and finally walked to the bar. It would be fun to drink and talk shit. Then we could finally meet up with Monica and the girls, and my night could start looking up.

Angela was nowhere in sight when I got to the bar. The same man was still looking at me, as was the bartender. A new figure sat in my chair. It was another man by the looks of it, judging by their shoulders and haircut. I continued my search for Angela but still came up empty-handed. She was just looking for me.

"Looking for something?" the bartender asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, the guy I was with said someone was looking for me. Have you seen her?"

She pursed her lips and glanced at the other man. "Can't say I have. Taehyung was probably confused."

My shoulders dropped in defeat. Again, I was left stranded. I should probably just go home and call it a night. A small voice told me to go and find Taehyung. He had said he didn’t want to share me. How had he known someone was waiting for me?

I couldn’t think about it for too long, as if my mind wouldn’t let me. I thought about him, his perfect face, and how beautiful he was. His eyes, eyes I could not recall the color of for the life of me, staring down at me. His voice, a gentle purr in my ear beckoning me closer. A draft startled me out of my daydream and I realized I wanted to leave.

I sighed. "I think I’m going to head out then."

I swore I saw relief wash over her face. Her lips had been tight when I came back around, but she gave me a small, genuine grin. Probably some asshole customer. Every place has them, even a luxurious one. Her shoulders stiffened when the other man raised his arm. Her boyfriend’s hands clenched. That guy must be the douche.

"Bourbon." Oh, yeah, definitely a tool.

I rolled my eyes and did not think before taking a seat at the bar. I could at least distract her. She frowned at me and continued making his drink.

"Thought you were leaving?"

"I could get another drink before I go." I smiled at her.

"Dirty martini for the lady," the mystery man said.

My heart stopped. His face... My mouth dropped open at the sight of him. My dream man. He was sitting right in front of me. Every detail, every line and curve were the same. Even the mole on his lip was there. Just like Taehyung, it was hard to look into his eyes, but I knew they would be the same. I couldn’t remember what they looked like, but I was certain they shined a gentle, soft gold in the dark.

"You do like them dirty, right?" He grinned.

I couldn’t respond for a few moments. The resemblance was uncanny. The anxiety Taehyung’s presence had given me was nothing compared to this. It felt like an elephant had sat on my chest while every nerve in my body screamed at me to run. And just like Taehyung, I found myself unable to move. I found that I did not want to. I welcomed the feeling.

"How did you know that?" I asked, still in awe.

"I overheard you earlier. Was going to buy you one then but you left before I could."

I swallowed my thickening saliva. It was hard to get down. Every part of me wanted to run. My body begged to get away from him, but it also yearned to be near him. I was alight in every way possible, and the confusion was hard to wrap my head around. Do I stay or do I go? As if he could read my mind, the man reached out and ran a finger over the top of my hand. Electricity shot through my body, and it burned where he had touched.

"Have a drink with me."

"Okay," I whispered, hypnotized by his voice.

The bartender placed my drink in front of me before going back to her side of the bar, like she was trying to stay as far away from the man as possible. I knew his name, it was on the tip of my tongue, but I was insane to think it was even possible. He was a stranger, and there was no possible way he was my dream man. The two just looked similar. In my dreams, his eyes were gold, and his skin was much paler and sickly. I glanced at his hands and relaxed even further. In my dreams, the man had scars over every inch of his body.

"I’m Hoseok, by the way." He smiled at me, and I quivered.

There was something off about his teeth. His canines were too sharp. In fact, all of his teeth were. They were so white they almost glowed in the red lights. Too perfect. Everything about him was. I scooted away from him and angled my legs toward the bartender. I wanted to leave again. I wanted to get away from him. I had been right about his name.

I took a nervous sip of my drink. Why had I sat down in the first place? At the moment, it had seemed like the right thing to do, but now I felt conflicted. Had I really wanted to stay? It surely felt that way at the time. Now, I wanted to go home, and my body language was clear. Still, I could not stand up and walk away. Still, I took another sip and curled away from him without moving.

"Are you okay? You seem tense."

I nodded too quickly and enthusiastically to ever be taken seriously. Hoseok seemed amused by this, just as he had been smirking at my squirming moments before. He was unsettling. Maybe it was his resemblance to the monster from my dreams that had me on edge. Yes, I thought, that had to be the reason.

"Bad night," I replied, my hands shaking. I quickly finished my drink and stood up. Hoseok smiled at me. "Thanks for the drink. I’ll be going now."

"See you soon, Y/N."

I was so focused on leaving the bar, I did not hear the slip of his tongue. I had never told him my name. That night, after I got home, I dreamt of Hoseok killing me again. The next day, Angela never showed up for work, never answered my messages. No one else had heard from her either.

Her body was found mutilated and tortured in a motel room a few blocks away from Dauphine the following morning. My dreams began to include her in them. She cried for me to help her, blamed me for her death, and even laughed as I got my throat ripped out. I was never able to focus anymore and was blessed that my residency program finished only four months later.

After graduation, the dreams stopped. I stayed with my parents for the summer, played in the Florida sun, and decided against going back to New York for my fellowship. Instead, I chose to stay in Tallahassee and start my career. It was safe there. He was gone. A few years later, I left for Jacksonville, and my paranoia had started to fade.

Years had gone by, and my memories of his face began to escape me. His name was nothing more than a gentle whisper in the deepest pits of my mind. Even then, saying that would be an overstatement. My return to New York was in the wake of my mother’s death. My dad had passed away a few years prior, and our vacation home in Harlem, the same place I lived in so many years ago, had become prime real estate. I got a fellowship through Columbia upon my return. Life was looking up despite my grief, and I was ready to start a new venture in my medical career.

That was the beginning of my eventual end. I had cheated death all those years ago. Angela was my replacement, though I had no idea at the time. That thing knew she was waiting for me. It knew she would not let me out of her sight, so it took care of the problem. My fear gave it power, and it indulged itself in my torture. When I came back, it knew.

This time, I would not be lucky. Nothing and no one would get in its way. Soon, all memories of that night vanished. Angela’s name escaped me first, then her face, and finally what happened to her. Dauphine and its never-ending halls were gone. The thing that sat at the bar made sure of that before making his next move.

It was mid-October when he came back into my life, all memories of his face wiped from my mind, and his game really started. My death would be his favorite. A death he rejoiced in for years to come only to be disappointed that nothing lived up to that night.

Things like Hoseok lived for the chase, and I proved to be his greatest target.

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