#that shooting scene will haunt me
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lucaonthropy · 6 months ago
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Holy shit
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tubbytarchia · 7 months ago
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Demons in my head tonight. Thinking again about that scene in 3L where Scott is talking to Cleo when Jimmy runs up. While he and Cleo are having an exchange, Scott takes out his bow and attempts to shoot Jimmy but he can't but hey at least it served as a reminder for him to immediately restock on arrows !
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hauntingblue · 8 months ago
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Ace...?? they cloned my beautiful wife...
#ace if he was born with his mother's hair but without freckles.......#this 3d intro... damn they spent their coins here but didnt age that well xd#i love how there is nearly a movie for every character that joins since usopp.... sanji got the last one. chopper has one i havent seen#and robin now.... i mean its not their movie but you know what i mean#zoro and nami on the same wavelength i miss you.... my fag and hag sisters....#robin old design i miss you.... her and nami look so different.... not like now....#I MISS CHOPPER OLD DESIGN HE LOOKS SO SILLY!!!#the goofy scenes are too good..... 'luffy what are you doing''nothing just a fight' 'okay dont get lost'#also sanji with robin and nami while the others fight... the girls AND sanji#this guy looks like ace with his kinds long middle part hair and eyes.... and luffy likes seeing hum fight#i am seeing things where there are non but my beautiful not dead yet wife keeps haunting me once again#seeing luffy talk about how if he dies fighting to be pirate king then so be it and like HE DID!!!! AND THAT DIDN'T STOP HIM!!#kids with guns TUN TUN kids with guns TUN TUN#robin made a gigantesco mano.... this was visionary#ROBIN giving back the gun to the child so he shoots luffy and he can bounce it back.... luffy enabler num 1.#nami threatening a child with zoros sword.... i needed this so bad.#shryer.... your drip too hard.... your swag too different.... your smoke too hot.... they will kill you#NOOOOOOO the clone of my beautiful dead wife died just like him.... face down...#the old man is dying and zoro knows....#shryer is alive who woulda thot.....#'be serious' 'im always serious... didnt i get out?' this is him. omg#sanji with the cooking hacks for the fight.... i am sure of it... also sanji spy come back to me....#THE BOY IS THE SISTER??? AND THE OLD MAN AND ACE CLONE ARE BLOWN UP???#it is flour lmao they got their ideas from the fight with crocodile#everyone is alive and well 👍🏻including the hat#that was kinda beautiful with that plot twist and everyone wanting to live and all....#nami strangling zoro!!!! more!!!#talking tag#watching one piece#watching one piece movies
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sableeira · 2 years ago
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okay but ada dazai is so pretty princess vibe and prison dazai is so cat vibe. pre-dark era dazai is also cat vibe but not in the silly way but in the haunted way. dark era and beast dazai are both bastard vibe but in a tragic way and in the most affectionate way possible. the peak of dazai’s pretty princess vibe was during dead apple.
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b-rainlet · 6 months ago
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Benson starts the movie dead and ends it as a ghost, Randy starts the movie as a ghost and ends up dead
#Let me elaborate: Benson is dead and he knows it#If he died in the beginning of the movie nobody would really care#Not even his Mum who doesn't even question when he comes home way earlier than he's supposed to#And he knows that he knows he's dead#Which is why he does the things he does#Randy on the other hand WISHES he was dead#He's trying to be non-existent. The invisible boy. A ghost#Because of he was a real boy he'd only mess it up#And THEN!#Benson shoots everybody except Randy because he SEES him#He sees the ghost in the corner of the room wishing he was dead#And he takes Randy with him#And Randy has never felt more alive than when he's with Benson even if it's scary#Both because of Benson but also because he's scared of having to be somebody#And for Benson Randy is the one thing keeping him alive#As long as Randy looks at him and listens to him Benson's still breathing#And when the Diner scene happens and Benson actually dies he doesn’t#Not really. Because he changed Randy so irrevocably that he's gonna haunt him forever#Even if everybody else forgets him Randy will never. So he becomes Randy's own personal ghost#And Randy dies when Benson is shot. Because the only person who ever saw Randy just died.#And he'll never find a person who'll dig his claws as deeply into him as Benson#So the only time he truly felt alive where with Benson and now Benson is dead. And Randy is too#In a way the end even suggests that Benson lives on inside Randy (the jacket/the plushie)#As if Benson possessed him and is now living through Randy#While Randy isn't living at all without Benson#the passenger#stockroom syndrome#I was sooo scared of running out of tags lmao#Anyway does this make sense
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aria0fgold · 7 months ago
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Feeling very Cain from Wolves Den coded right now. Gonna be designing an outfit for him to use for the drawing and so off to firefox I go to search up: "are leather jackets good for hunting" answer is No, so I went to search something else again: "what jacket is good for hunting with a license" (i added the with a license as an afterthought cuz i feel like google wont understand me if i just put hunting on that). Which finally led me to: "shooting jacket mens"
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thethief1996 · 1 year ago
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I can't stop thinking about the news out of Palestine. Israel is sieging al Shifa hospital. Videos of people's limbs being severed off are haunting (graphic video tw). The hospital has ran out of fuel and 39 babies in incubators are fending for their lives by themselves, because Israel has stationed snipers around the hospital and is shooting all medical crew that walks into their sight.
First, the narrative was Israel would never bomb hospitals. Now, the hospitals are Hamas bases. Then, we respect journalists. Now, we have a fucking kill list of journalists because they are Hamas collaborators. First, we are not letting fuel in until the hostages are released. Now, we are not accepting the hostages back because that would stop our ground invasion and let Hamas win. And I could go on about every single lie they're making up. If you look up "Hamas rape" on google, the first link leads to Times of Israel saying Israel has found no forensic evidence of sexual violence, and only one eyewitness testimony out of 3.5k people attending the rave. If you Google "Hamas beheaded babies" the top links say they have no evidence for the claim besides word of mouth from extremist soldiers. Israeli extremists think about the ugliest goriest scene they can make out in their sick heads, tell that to a international journalist and they run away with it like it's gospel.
And children are being killed in the name of these lies. Thousands are being displaced in images that remind me of the pictures of Tantura 75 years ago, with their hands up so the tanks don't shoot them. Amputees are leaving the hospitals in wheelchairs hours after their surgeries because they are being shot at. Elders who survived the Nakba on 48 are having to walk towards Southern Gaza on foot (imagine walking from one end of your city to the other on foot), displaced again. People are cheering for the haunting images of white phosphorus bombs being dropped over Gaza. Gazan workers who were arrested in the West Bank are being thrust back into the bombings wearing numbered labels.
This is not normal. We are seeing the early stages of the settler colonial genocide of an indigenous population. Native leaders who have visited Gaza say its refugee camps look eerily like reservations. We can stop this. For the first time we are able to see wide scale accounts from the hands of the people suffering the genocide, and Israel is so scared of it they have cut all communications in Gaza.
This is our litmus test. I think we have never seen more clearly, with Palestine, Armenia, Congo and Sudan how colonialism has made our world a rotten place to live in.
The South African apartheid collapsed due to boycotts. We have to do everything in our power to stop Israel's hegemony. Even talking to a group of friends about Palestine changes the status quo. There's no world where we can live peacefully if Israel accomplishes their goals.
Keep yourself updated and share Palestinian voices. Muna El-Kurd said every tweet is like a treasure to them, because their voices are repressed on social media and even on this very app. Make it your action item to share something about the Palestinian plight everyday. Here are some resources:
Al Jazeera, Anadolu Agency, Mondoweiss
Boycott Divest Sanction Movement
Palestinian Youth Movement is organizing protests and direct action against weapons factories across the US
Mohammed El-Kurd (twitter / instagram)
Muhammad Shehada (twitter)
Motaz Azaiza (instagram) - reporting directly from Gaza.
Hind Khudary - reporting directly from Gaza. Her husband and daughter moved South to run from the tanks but she stayed behind to record the genocide. The least we can do is not let her calls fall on deaf ears.
You can participate in boycotts wherever you are in the world, through BDS guidelines. Don't be overwhelmed by gigantic boycott lists. BDS explicitly targets only a few brands which have bigger impact. You can stop consuming from as many brands as you want, though, and by all means feel free to give a 1 star review to McDonalds, Papa John, Pizza Hut, Burger King and Starbucks. Right now, they are focusing on boycotting the following:
Carrefour, HP, Puma, Sabra, Sodastream, Ahava cosmetics, Israeli fruits and vegetables
Push for a cultural boycott - pressure your favorite artist to speak out on Palestine and cancel any upcoming performances on occupied territory (Lorde cancelled her gig in Israel because of this. It works.)
If you can, participate in direct action or donate.
Palestine Action works to shut down Israeli weapons factories in the UK and USA, and have successfully shut down one of their firms in London.Some of the activists are going on trial and are calling for mobilizing on court.
Palestinian Youth Movement is organizing direct actions to stop the shipping of wars to Israel. Follow them.
Educate yourself. Read into Palestinian history and the occupation. You can't common sense people out of decades of propaganda. If your arguments crumble when a zionist brings up the "disengagement of Gaza", you have to learn more.
Read Decolonize Palestine. They have 15 minute reads that concisely explain the occupation (and its colonial roots) and debunk popular myths, including pinkwashing.
Read on Palestine. Here's an amazing masterpost.
Verso Book Club is giving out free books on Palestine (I personally downloaded Ten Myths about Israel by Ilan Pappe. If you still believe in the two states solution, this book by an Israeli professor debunks it).
Call your representatives. The Labour Party in the UK had an emergency meeting after several councilors threatened to resign if they didn't condemn Israeli war crimes. Calling to show your complaints works, even more if you live in a country that funds genocide.
FOR PEOPLE IN THE USA: USCPR has developed this toolkit for calls, here's a document that autosends emails to your representatives and here's a toolkit by Ceasefire in Gaza NOW!
FOR PEOPLE IN EUROPE: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace targeting the European Parliament and one specific for almost all countries in Europe, including Germany, Ireland, Poland, Denmark, Sweden, Netherlands, Greece, Norway, Italy, Portugal, Spain, Finland, Austria, Belgium Romania and Ukraine
FOR PEOPLE IN THE UK: Friends of Al-Aqsa UK and Palestine Solidarity UK have made toolkits for calls and emails
FOR PEOPLE IN AUSTRALIA: Here's a toolkit by Stand With Palestine
FOR PEOPLE IN CANADA: Here's a toolkit by Indepent Jewish Voices for Canada
Join a protest. Here's a constantly updating list of protests:
Global calendar
Another global calendar (go to the instragram of the organizers to confirm your protest)
USA calendar
Australia calendar
Feel free to add more.
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pornocunt · 5 months ago
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LEON'S GUILTY PLEASURE
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SIREN IS TYPING . . writing debut! :33 this is my first ever leon fic, so please be nice! 3: i accidentally went a bit too far and made the word count 9.4k words..um..enjoy! reblogs and replies are really helpful & help me stay motivated so if you have any kind words to share, please do! i would love to hear them! i’m sorry for the really long delay in posting this but UHHH!!! idk ;(( my bae 3k helped me with the plot for the call & i hope i tagged everyone ^_^ i did my best to proofread so hopefully it’s good!
CONTAINS: older man leon! x pornstar! reader — age gaps, alcoholism, mutual masturbation, leon is co-depended with your content, he adores you, hinted erectile dysfunction, leon is lonely and sad, reader is there to put on a show for him, video call sex, dildo use, etc!
SYNOPSIS: a lonely man copes with two things, alcohol and porn, one night he comes across a video that catches his eye, pushing him down a spiral of coping through you. he adores you and your work, his only want in life is to get closer to you, and when you make a contest and offer the winner a chance at a one on one call with you, leon jumps at the opportunity.
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slumping down onto his bed, a drunk leon kennedy, sat back.
a small groan left his lips as nausea swirled around inside his stomach, he didn’t have food in his system, and his stomach was full of whiskey.
aerial shoot, his favorite.
but, fuck. he overdid it, throughout the whole evening he had been nursing a new bottle of the bitter whiskey, drinking it down like it was water, not caring about the way it burned his throat. by now it was empty, the drug seeping into his system like a blanket, making his body feel hot.
slipping down onto his bed, leon stared blankly at the roof, the room was dark and quiet.
he wasn’t tired, he was drunk, but not tired. another groan came from him, his large calloused hand moving to his face. he rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing sensation in his head. he had always been tolerant of alcohol, but tonight his body couldn’t take it anymore. he thanked a higher being for not being insanely nauseous, he wasn’t in the mood to spew up the alcohol.
he let out a deep breath before he reached out and grabbed his phone.
hitting the power button, his eyes shut immediately as the blinding light of his phone hit his eyes. “jesus, fuck—“ he grunted, quickly turning down the brightness.
looking at the screen, he wasn’t surprised when he was met with an empty inbox. no texts, no calls, no emails.
a sigh left his lips, the reminder of his loneliness brought a heavy weight inside his chest. looking to his side, there was an empty spot next to him, the bed was cold.
he was lonely.
despite what he tried to tell himself, he craves romance, he craves stability. the idea of living a happy married life was something he dreamed about when he was younger, before 1998, before he became what he is now. now he scoffs at romance because deep down, he knows no one would want to be with an alcoholic old man. his prime is gone a distant memory. he feels like a shell of himself, he doesn’t have much to live for now.
the cycle of self-hatred and self-loathing was part of his daily routine, at night, he gets lost in his thoughts.
he can’t go a day sober, it would kill him. at least that’s what he thinks.
the memories of the people he had lost haunt him, no matter how much time passes, the vacant space he has in his heart doesn’t go away. no matter what he does to try and get rid of it.
the dating scene wasn’t for him, not anymore, not at this age.
he could go and pay for hookers and prostitutes to fulfill his sexual needs, but it was never enough. the pleasure was temporary.
he wasn’t happy.
leon hasn’t been happy in a long time, so long in fact, he doesn’t remember how it feels.
his gaze focused on his phone, he wanted to stop thinking. he needed to forget everything, his grief, his anger, his loneliness. that’s why he relied on alcohol, but tonight he didn’t want to drink himself to sleep.
so, that left him with one more option.
opening the internet on his phone, his dull eyes focused as his fingers typed.
pornhub.com
this was pathetic, leon thought to himself. he was pathetic, and he knew that, but that didn’t stop him from pressing on the top link.
his thumb tapped against the glass screen, entering the website.
he was quickly met with the thumbnails of various sexual acts. from girls with a cock shoved down their throats, to girls getting folded while a man is on top of them. leon was uninterested.
he never liked porn videos made with high production, it was fake, unappealing. the bright lighting, the obnoxious moaning, and the stupid faces the girls make. it was ick worthy, leon always preferred amateur porn. it was charming when a video was poorly produced, with bad quality, and crooked angles. he liked that over other porn videos.
opening the search bar, he typed the word amateur. after clicking search, he scrolled down various videos before he found one that caught his attention.
it was a masturbation video, the title wasn’t crazy either.
college girl masturbates solo :)
it was cute, the little smiley face felt so out of place on a site like this, but it piqued his curiosity. in the thumbnail your hands were between your thighs, and the position of your phone was up — like you were taking a selfie. he didn’t see much of your face, by the angle he could only see your soft lips as you bit your bottom lip. you were wearing a cute set of lingerie, too.
there was something so cute about you, from the cutesy title and your pretty lingerie, his curiosity lead him to click on the video.
the video loaded and the first thing he saw was your breasts as you adjusted the camera down. you were holding it yourself, the camera facing you. as the camera moved down, he saw your hands slipping down to your panties.
he couldn’t see your face, seems like you were shy.
he watched with anticipation as your fingers pressed against your clothed cunt, rubbing slow gentle circles on your clit. turning up the volume of his phone, he heard the way your breath hitched. he could see as your tummy moved up and down with every breath you took.
leon’s stomach tightened as blood began to rush to his cock, his hand moving to palm against his pants as he got hard.
after a minute of teasing, you put the phone down against your bed, leon heard fabric shuffling. after a few seconds, you grabbed the phone again. the angle stayed the same, but now he could see your pretty pussy.
it was slick, glistening.
his mouth went dry as he took in the sight, your manicured fingers gently pressed against your perky clit, your touch was light, and you were savoring the pleasure.
leon heard a soft moan leave your lips, his hips squirmed as he grabbed his cock through the fabric of his pants. his hand moving to slowly grope himself.
he continued to watch with eager eyes, his hand moving to unbutton his jeans and unzip his pants. eagerly, he slipped his hand under his underwear, his hand pulling his cock out.
it was standing tall, pre-cum leaking from the slit.
he shuddered, he hasn’t been this hard in what felt like forever. he genuinely thought he lost his spark, he was in his late thirties after all.
his hand wrapped around his cock, a shaky breath left his lips as he squeezed it. his cock was thick, it wasn’t the biggest there was, but it would leave girls dumbfucked. or well, it used to. he hasn’t gone that hard in a while.
his cock was pretty, his tip was reddish, veins adorned it. the ones that made the girls mushy and whimpery.
the mental image of the girls he’s shoved his cock into filled his head. truthfully, he doesn’t really remember faces, but he remembers how they reacted. their bodies trembling and loud moans.
oh, how he missed it.
as he stared at your pretty pussy, all he could think about was shoving his cock deep inside you. have you whimpering and gasping his name as he kept you folded.
his cock twitched, fuck.
you were getting him so hard, he didn’t even think it was possible given his track record in the last few years. biting the inside of his cheek, he let out a breath, he was this hard over a girl on a porn website, but he couldn’t get this hard when he was balls deep inside a hooker’s cunt. god, this was pathetic.
pathetic, pathetic, pathetic..
you’re pathetic leon.
even as the words repeated in his head, his hand was still working on his cock, jerking and tugging on his shaft. his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips parted slightly, keeping his gaze on you, he watched as you rubbed your clit faster.
he could hear your small shaky moans, you were close and so was he.
his balls were tightening, his breathing was heavy, small pants leaving his lips as he rubbed his cock raw. chasing for a high he hasn’t felt in years.
a choked groan left his lips as he came, cum spurting out of his tip in amounts he hasn’t had since he was in his twenties. his cum was milky and thick. he continued to gently jerk his cock as he rode out his orgasm, another groan leaving his lips as his head leaned back.
his eyes fluttered shut as he felt his cock softening in his hands.
holy fuck.
his mind was fuzzy, he had almost forgotten about his phone until he heard a moan come from it. he moved his gaze towards the screen and watched as your hand stayed between your thighs before they slammed shut and you began to ride out your orgasm.
leon watched with eager eyes as you rode out your high nicely.
he squirmed and let go of his flaccid cock, his cum staining his hand, his stomach, and his pants.
he moved his hands and they gripped his phone again, he tapped on your username and watched your profile. your profile picture was a shy picture of your chest, a different set of lingerie holding your tits up.
looking at your bio, he shuddered as he read your information.
your name was pretty, it suited you. he saw your age listed, twenty-one, he just had the cum of his life to a video of a twenty-one-year-old? a feeling came to him, he didn’t know how to feel. staring at his screen, his mind still processing that information, should he be disgusted? guilty? ashamed?
he sucked in a breath and gulped.
him, a man in his late thirties, almost forty, just came to a video of a twenty-one year old girl.
it felt wrong, right? she was almost two decades younger than him, when the racoon city incident happened you weren’t even born yet. this had to be wrong.
but it wasn’t, and he knew that.
sure, the gap was questionable, but it was legal. yet, he felt so..wrong.
the worst part was that even after he realized this, he still watched your other videos.
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choked moans left your glossy lips, your eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed up in pleasure. your mouth was slightly agape, forming an ‘o’ shape. leon’s cock slamming down into your cunt, his hand was placed on the small for your back as he held your upper body down and kept your ass up.
he let out small pants, his eyes shutting in bliss.
your walls were warm and snug, sucking his cock back inside your cunt with a wet squelch. you were so wet, your cunt practically drooling. it was driving him mad.
his free hand was gripping your ass, holding onto the fat like his life depended on it, his dull nails digging into your skin. he let out a guttural groan as he felt your pussy tighten around him, squeezing, milking him. he didn’t have the self control he had back then, he was edging himself to try and last longer.
it was hard, his balls were heavy with cum, cum he wanted to stuff deep inside you.
his eyes shut tightly, he bit down onto his bottom lip, his thrusts got sloppily — fuck, fuck, fuck. “s-shit—“ he choked out, his head leaned back as a whimper slipped past his lips. his cock throbbed no matter how hard he tried to stop himself, his cum spurted out of his tip.
he shook as it spurted in waves, his eyes fluttered open and he panted. “sorry—“ he said, feeling bad for not letting you cum first and filling you up without any form of protection. you hummed in reply, your ass still in the air as he pulled out. his cock getting softer, his lidded gaze watched as his cum slipped out of your puffy pussy, falling in glops onto his sheets.
he felt hot as he watched it, he was about to say something when—
his eyes opened and a shaky breath left his lips, it took a moment for him to adjust to his surroundings. quickly sitting up on his bed, leon was met with the saddening realization he was alone.
you weren’t sleeping next to him, his bed was cold.
not only that, but his pants were wet. he pulled the blanket off his body and groaned when he realized he had cum inside his pants. rubbing his forehead, he slipped off his bed groggily.
it was still dark out, his bedroom was completely dark aside from the natural light of the moon that entered through his windows.
leon hastily took his pants and underwear off, throwing them across the room to where he thought his laundry basket was. he walked to his cabinets and dug into his underwear drawer before he put them on, stumbling a bit before he finished.
running his hands through his hair, he stalked over to his bed and laid down.
reaching out for his nightstand, he grabbed his phone, this time he was mindful of the brightness so he adverted his eyes and quickly lowered it before staring at the screen.
no new messages, he frowned, except an email. it was an advertisement.
he scrolled through his apps and found one, the one you’re most active on.
instagram.
leon was rather clueless about social media, but the only reason he had it was to stalk your account. he opened the app and saw that you had uploaded a new story. he quickly tapped on the bubble and watched through your posts.
you were out that night, you took photos and various videos of the night. wearing a little black dress, your tits were practically spilling out, one wrong move and your panties would be exposed. you looked beautiful though, he adjusted himself in his bed and stared at the picture you captioned ‘fit check! :D.’ he couldn’t get over how cute your little captions were, it was humorous. a cute little emoticon at the end of a text while the picture behind it was you in the sluttiest outfit you could find.
biting the inside of his cheek, leon took a screenshot of the story and continued to scroll by your posts.
you looked so happy, so pretty. leon loved the way you smiled, all teeth, it all seemed so genuine. you were with your friends in the videos, giggling and dancing along to whatever song the club was blasting.
after he finished going through your story, he clicked on your account, no new posts. a deep sigh left his lips as he put his phone back on his nightstand and turned to his side. pulling the blankets up, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep once more.
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leon wasn’t sick.
he wasn’t a bad man, he wasn’t a freak, he was just lonely.
he was lonely and desperate, that’s what he told himself. he had this lingering guilt that manifested in the back of his head, you’re a sick man, leon. that’s what it repeated, every night, while he re-watched your videos and looked through the photos he had saved, it spoke.
sick. you are sick.
leon swore he wasn’t, he was just a broken man. one that found solace in you.
the age gap was eating him up inside, he had never thought of himself as someone who would find girls in their twenties attractive. yet, where he was.
he didn’t want to imagine what people would say if they found out he jerked off nightly to the thought of you. not just your videos, but the thought of you. he found himself daydreaming about you, not just in sexual situations, but romantic ones.
at the store he finds himself looking at the flower display, thinking about getting you flowers, trying to guess what flowers you would like the most. in public, when he saw couples, a bitter swirl churned in his stomach. jealousy, he was jealous that he couldn’t do the same with you.
this was developing into more of a followership, it was slowly seeping into the realm of obsession. delusion was his best friend.
occasionally, you participated in live streams.
it was cute, you were more talkative there, and you interacted with your followers happily. he was a quiet supporter, he didn’t use the chat room. you were too intimidating, he didn’t want to say something that could make you uncomfortable. he mostly gave you gifts, sending in money for you, he didn’t say much when he donated. occasionally he would type a small message for you to read with each donation, but it was rare.
that didn’t matter though. being able to hear you say his name, albeit his username, made him happy.
in these live streams, he’s been able to learn a lot about you. he knows you’re a college student, he knows you’re studying literature, he knows you’re a good student, he knows your favorite food, your favorite animal, how you like to spend your time, and much more.
he knows more about you than the people he knows in his life.
tonight, you had scheduled a livestream. posting about it on your instagram story.
‘i’m gonna be live tonight at 8 p.m. come by to talk, and i have a surprise too! >_<’ leon was curious, a surprise? so, of course he entered the stream after you started it. he needed to know what you were planning, maybe he could be part of it.
you sat in front of your camera and greeted all of the people coming in.
leon stared at you, you were so pretty, he thought. god, he felt like a teenage boy.
get a fucking grip.
your eyes focused on the screen where the chat box was opened, he watched as your eyes lit up, “welcome back, kennedy!” you said, looking back at the camera. looking straight at him.
his mouth went dry when you addressed him.
he clicked on the chat box, looking through to see if there was another kennedy, he didn’t want to jump straight to conclusions and embarrass himself. but there was no one else with the display like that.
SKENNEDY001
okay, he wasn’t very good at making usernames. he stared at his screen, unsure of what to do. you addressed him, should he say hi back? he’s never spoken in the chat room before. what if this went wrong?
slowly tapping on the keyboard, he replied with a simple. ‘hello, how are you?’ — best he plays it safe, right? his face feels hot, and he feels embarrassed. he’s always been more of a silent admirer, honestly, he never expected you to actually notice him. all sorts of different thoughts filled his head, from negative to positive. what would people think, what would you think if you found out that the biggest reason you’re paying your bills was because of some man in his late thirties who watches your content like it’s the news.
but what if you were into that? he’s heard stories about girls thinking older men were attractive, were you that type?
“i’ve been good!” you replied, snapping him out of his flood of thoughts. “i’ve seen you around, i think you might be my biggest fan.” you winked.
leon’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, he knew you meant it like a compliment, but it felt like you were pointing out how much of a lonely loser he is. “i just wanted to say thank you, your donations really help.” you said with a smile, that same pretty smile that drove him crazy, the smile he adored.
he didn’t know what to say, if he wanted to, he could write a detailed essay about you and how much he admires obsesses over you.
‘you’re welcome.. i like to support you.’ he typed back, after hitting send, he squirmed. did that sound weird? staring at your face intensely as you read through the chat, you let out a small laugh. “thank you, kennedy.” you replied, looking back at the camera. seeing how full the stream was getting, he decided that this was the end of the conversation.
his chest felt fuzzy, a feeling he hadn’t had in years, a feeling he had completely forgotten about.
he was obsessed with you.
the stream continued smoothly, you teased the camera, showing off your body and tempting the men, like him, who watched. by now he needed to rub one out during your streams, who would he be if he didn’t?
the stream was coming to a close, but before you spoke. “oh! the surprise from earlier, i almost forgot.” you said with a small laugh as you leaned back against your chair.
“basically, i was thinking, why not have a little contest.” you said, smirking at the camera. “imagine this is an auction,” you said, “the highest bidder gets to have a private, on one, video call with me.” you said, looking at your camera. “who knows, maybe that call can lead to something else.” you hummed, winking at the camera as you slid your hand down your chest.
leon blinked, a call with you? it was a dream come true. the only thing this lonely man could ask for.
you continued on, opening a gift box for anyone who wanted to get a chance with you.
he ignored how this could lead to poor financial decisions, he needed that call. he needed you for himself, he needed you to address him — to talk to him, he needed your attention like a lost puppy.
the gift period was only open for about fifteen minutes, first come first serve type of thing.
luckily, unlike the other people in the stream, he’s a government agent. with that title comes money, so as a way to secure that call, he sent you thousands.
he watched as you read the screen, your eyes widening as you saw the notification come in that you had received a few thousand dollars from your shy admirer. “holy shit.” you gasped, “okay— we have a winner! we have skennedy001 that donated over a thousand dollars!” you said, stammering as surprise filled your bones. “i’m closing the bid, that’s way too much money!” you said, giggling as you shut the bid off.
the people in the chat were going crazy, some were taking the loss like losers while the others congratulated the mystery man.
not too long after the stream ended, leon shut his phone off and stared at it. a deep breath left his lips, he didn’t know what to expect after being called the winner, but when he got a notification someone had messaged him through the streaming app, he opened it.
what he didn’t expect was to have a message from you in his inbox.
‘hey, kennedy! omg, that donation was insane! i didn’t expect that much money, please let me give you some money back! i really don’t deserve that much!! :,,)) you’re so sweet, and i appreciate it sososo much!!’
leon stared at the screen, double-checking that it was really you that had contacted me, his face got hot, did he overdo it? was that too desperate? oh, definitely it was, but still.
running his fingers through his hair, he began to type back, trying to brainstorm what to say, but after a solid five minutes of debating his options, he finally replied.
‘hello, i’m glad you appreciated it, but no. it’s okay, you can keep all of it. that’s the reason i donated it. spoil yourself.’
he typed back, his icy blue eyes hyper focused on the screen, he watched as in the span of a few seconds a small text bubble popped up as three dots bounced around. you were replying.
‘aww! are you sure? like, a 100% sure? i’m just making sure!! i just don’t wanna feel like i’m stealing from you, or something LOL!’
your text was cute, lighthearted, and warm, you were so considerate. he liked that, and his thumbs began to type out a reply.
‘no, no. it’s okay, really. just enjoy yourself.’
he replied he was trying his best to not seem uninterested. he has been told many times before that he was very “dry texter” — he had been told how uninterested he sounded with his texting habits and how it could make someone want to stop replying, and he didn’t want that. he just wasn’t sure what to say.
‘omg i am so grateful for your kindness! i’ve seen you in my streams a lot, i have honestly wondered about you. i’m glad you won the bid, tbh i wanted you to win LOL it gave me a reason to talk to you!’
oh my god. leon’s eyes widened slightly at your text, you were bold, is this how it feels like to get butterflies? he blinked, how was he supposed to reply? he’s never texted a girl in her twenties, what do girls like? what will keep you interested?
‘oh, yeah?’ he replied, reverting back to his usual dry texts, but you were lively, you knew how to keep the conversation going.
the conversation was sweet and lengthy, you ended up suggesting you move to your instagram messages so she could talk to him more often.
leon’s heart was practically going to explode out of his chest, he was giddy yet nervous. you had told him that you guys could arrange the video call for the next day at night after you finish some college work.
he was stressed, leon wasn’t sure what to expect. he’s seen your pretty face, but you haven’t seen his. his instagram profile is of an old landscape photo he took a while back, what if the camera isn’t flattering for him? he did warn you that he was in his late thirties? he didn’t want you to get your hopes up for a younger man. maybe he should just keep his camera off.
nonetheless, that night, he went to sleep happier than he has been in a while.
≻ the next day, leon was practically counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until he got to see you. in the morning, he had been excited — the people around him noted his giddy attitude, but when asked why, he didn’t say anything.
he couldn’t expose himself.
but as the clock ticked and the hours passed by, leon found himself much more nervous than he’s ever been. he doesn’t want to fuck this up, in his delusion. he thinks that if this goes well, maybe, just maybe, this could evolve to something more.
you were so sweet to him last night, but the more he thinks about it, perhaps it was flattery.
he hadn’t thought about it now, this might just be all an act. something to keep him wrapped around your pinky finger, but he decided to push those thoughts down so he wouldn’t spoil his night.
once he reached his place, leon was angsty, the sun was slowly going down. the sky was a beautiful mix of warm colors: orange, red, and yellow. he could also see a hint of blue mixed in as the night sky began to slowly settle.
entering his apartment, he slipped inside the door and shut it behind him. locking it, a person could never be too safe, right?
he kicked off his shoes and slipped off his jacket, he haphazardly threw his jacket on his sofa before he made his way over to his room. he plopped down onto his bed and slipped his phone and flask out of his back pocket. opening the flask, he raised the metal container up to his lips and took in a quick shot of whiskey.
he couldn’t go into this sober.
letting the flask rest on his lap, he opened his phone and opened instagram. he looked at the messages he had with you. oh, he forgot to reply to your last message a few hours ago. he pursed his lips, fuck he feels bad, leon wasn’t an avid texter, so it was easy for him to forget.
‘sorry for the late reply, i was working.’ he hit send before he could register how “dry” that sounded, he quickly scrambled to text a bit more, so he didn’t seem too boring. ‘i’m nervous for the call.’
why would he say that?
leon shut his eyes, he was really bad at this.
after a few minutes of leon anxiously waiting for your reply, a ping came from his phone. quickly looking down at the screen, he saw that you replied.
‘aww, don’t be nervous! i don’t bite, unless you want me to ;)’
he let out a breath at your words, it felt like you always knew what to say, the number of times you’ve said something sly during the conversation that had his chest fuzzy must be over ten in the span of twenty-four hours.
leon started to type back, but he stopped mid-sentence. he wasn’t sure what to say, he was fumbling over his words, and no sentence he tried to type up made sense.
he saw your text bubble pop up, you were typing.
‘what? did i make you nervous? ;p’ — yes, yes you did.
he felt like he was in his early twenties, stumbling and stammering when a pretty girl gave him attention. jesus, has it really been that long since he’s felt something like this? god, that’s so sad.
leon ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his dark hair back, ‘yes, i don’t know how to behave when a pretty girl is talking to me.’ now it was your turn to blush, leon leaned against his headboard as he stared at his phone.
‘ohhh? is mr. kennedy getting bold? ;)) i’m excited for the call, just give me one more hour ♡’
‘take your time.’
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during that hour, leon decided to try and freshen up, at least a bit. he knew he wasn’t going to turn on his camera, but maybe getting refreshed would make him feel more confident in himself.
he changed out of his work clothes and took a quick shower, he slipped on some comfortable sweatpants and a black compression shirt that he typically used when he was working out. as he looked at himself in the mirror, he noticed the eye bags that hung under his eyes and the stubble that covered his cheeks and chin.
moving his hand up to his face, he ran his fingers through his stubble and sighed as he felt the facial hair scratching his skin. should he have shaved this morning? he didn’t know, he hadn’t been bare-faced in a few years now, as he aged the clean look he used to have didn’t fit him anymore.
reaching over for his flask that he had left on the bathroom counter, leon quickly took another swing of his flask and then sighed as he put it back on his counter.
he was so fucking nervous and for what? he’s been face to face with death before, he’s encouraged over thousands of zombies in his lifetime and yet he’s so nervous at the idea of talking to you.
feeling his phone buzz in his pocket, leon scrambled to take it out before looking down at his screen. it was you.
‘okay! i’m ready, are you? ;)’ — no, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be, but he replied, ‘yes. how does this work?’ he replied, unsure of what you were planning.
he watched as the text bubble popped up from your end as you typed again, ‘its suuuper easy! i’ll set up a voice chat and send you the link, then i’ll turn my camera on so you can see me!’ biting his bottom lip, leon moved out of the bathroom and sat down in his bed, his back resting against the headboard as he stared down at his phone.
‘okay, i’ll wait for you.’ he replied as he tried to relax, letting out a deep sigh, leon shut his eyes for a few seconds before he felt his phone buzz again.
looking back at the screen, you had sent him a link.
‘here it is! ;)’ the text said, his thumb hovered over the screen as he bit the inside of his cheek and hesitated before quickly tapping the link. the link opened up another website, the same one you use for streams. it took a few seconds for it to load, but he could tell his camera was off and his mic was muted.
okay, good.
eventually, the screen loaded and he saw you, you were wearing a cute tank top of a band, he’s seen the band name around before. it was popular back in the early 2000s, you didn’t have any sexy clothes on, it was actually cute. it made you feel even more real.
“hi!” you said as you waved at the camera, “let me know if the camera and audio are working properly, sometimes the app gives me issues,” you said with a smile as you stared at your screen. leon went to open the chat box, but he realized that if he wanted to make the most out of this call, talking to you would better.
taking in a deep breath, he cleared his throat and unmuted his microphone. “..it works,” he said, his face feeling hot as he spoke.
leon had always been rather charming and talkative in real life, so why was he so shy? it wasn’t anything like him, did his loneliness really ruin him? your eyes lit up when you heard his voice, surprised he spoke.
he watched as a smile curled on your lips, “i’m glad!” you said, leaning in closer, giving leon a full view of your cleavage, he noticed a black lace bra underneath your shirt. tilting your head to the side, you hummed, “soo..how was your day?” you asked curiously as you stared up at the camera with a small smirk. leon hated how quick it was for him to feel pressure growing in his pants when it came to you.
why was it so easy to get hard for you?
“it was good..you?” he asked softly, his hand slipping down his body to grip his cock through his pants. your smirk turned into a smile, “my day was good too! thank you for asking,” you hummed, “so, what do you want to do?” you asked, leaning back against your chair as you moved your hand to hold your tit, squeezing the mound playfully. “it’s just you and me, no need to be shy.” you winked.
leon squirmed in his bed, “..i don’t know actually,” he muttered, “i never got to decide how i wanted to approach this.” he said, squeezing his bulge and sighing. “..i wanted to just talk and get you know you more, but..” he trailed off, unsure if he should tell you that his cock was hard at the mere sight of you.
you seemed to get the hint when you heard the shaky breath that left his lips, “got too excited, didn’t you?” you teased, biting your bottom lip as you batted your eyelashes to the camera. “it’s okay, let me help you.” you offered, that pretty smirk of yours coming back to your lips.
leon’s eyebrows furrowed as he felt his cock throb inside his pants.
“..a-are you sure? i don’t want to ruin the call.” leon murmured, his voice uneven as he tried to resist the urge to slip his hand under his pants' waistband.
a small laugh left your lips as you shook your head, “of course not,” she said playfully, “you won this call, you get to choose whatever we do.” you said, “what’s your name?” you asked, moving to press your arms together to have them push up your tits.
leon let out a sigh and watched with a hazy look in his eyes as you pressed your chest together. “it’s leon.” he replied quickly, now eager to have you say his name.
humming, you smiled, “okay, leon. should i take off my shirt? i have a new pair of lingerie just for you.” that whole sentence could’ve made leon cum right there without any friction. the way you said his name, it was smooth, like honey. you were hot and you knew it, “y-yes, please.” leon mumbled out pathetically as he stared at his screen intensely.
you nodded and reached down for the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and discarding your shirt to the corner of your room. once your shirt was removed, leon got an eye full of your tits being held up by the new lingerie, it was a push up bra. your tits were rounded and plush, the black lace that surrounded the fabric was real pretty.
“do you like it?” you asked softly as you adjusted your bra strap, leon gulped and shuddered. “yeah, it’s pretty..it suits you.” leon said, you were so fucking hot. he wanted to jack off and cum right there, but that would just show how much of a pathetic man he is.
you only took off your shirt and leon came? embarrassing.
so, he edged himself. deciding to play it safe with palming himself through his pants. his hand moving slowly to not get too eager and fuck it up.
“you think so?” you mused, looking at the camera as your hands moved to squeeze your tits and push them closer. fondling yourself for his pleasure.
leon groaned and nodded, he knew his camera was off and that you couldn’t see it, but he couldn’t help it. “mhm, black suits you.” he said, shifting in his bed to adjust his position. “want me to take it off?” you asked curiously, looking at the camera with an amused smile. “i think my tits are pretty, it would only be fair for you to see.” you teased as you squeezed your mounds.
leon’s throat felt dry, he felt parched.
“yes,” leon shuddered out, looking down at the screen. you laughed and stood up, you adjusted your camera for it to catch your body as you stood. leon saw you were only wearing some cute little panties that brought out your ass.
turning around, your back faced the camera before you moved your hair out of the way and moved your hands to the clasps of your bra.
you were quick to unclip your bra and take it off, throwing it off to the side, to a place the camera can’t pick up. by where you threw your shirt, leon assumed. your movements were always so smooth, hypnotic almost. leon was convinced you were perfect, made with no flaws.
turning around, you held your tits up in your hands before you stepped closer and let your mounds drop. leon got a screen full of tits, you let out a laugh and moved your body in a slow sway, your tits moving around as you did so. “like ‘em?” you mused playfully before reaching up and squeezing your nipple.
leon’s head leaned back as a small groan left his lips, his hand moving down to grip his dick through his pants. “yes, fuck.” leon said with a pant.
you moved back from the camera and sat down onto your chair before adjusting the camera stand so leon could see you better.
“are you jerking off?” you asked, smirking at the lens, leon let out a small whine. “no, n-not yet.” he mumbled, his voice straining as he tried to sound level headed, but of course it didn’t work given how he stuttered. leon cursed at himself mentally, he sounds like a fucking pussy right now.
you let out a small laugh at his stutters, “what? you don’t wanna jerk off to me? you’re hurting my feelings.” you said softly as she tilted your head, leon’s eyes widened. oh shit, no, that’s not what he wanted to do.
“wait, shit—“ he tried to explain, “i didn’t mean it like that..i just want to savor the moment.” he said, shutting his eyes in embarrassment.
you smiled, “yeah? why not savor it while jerking off? i have my tits out just for you.” you teased, pouting as you did so. leon paused, you were right, your tits were out and you were willing to do anything for him and he was just edging himself?
a small groan left his lips, “yeah..okay.” he mumbled, his hand slipping under the waistband of his pants before he gripped his cock. his large hand wrapped around his shaft, his cock throbbing again due to the pressure, leon put his phone down and used his other hand to shimmy his pants down. once the waistband was wrapped around his knees, leon leaned back against the headboard and sighed as he gripped his dick.
reaching out for his phone, leon fumbled with it with one hand before finding the right position to hold it. unbeknownst to him, while he fumbled with the phone, he had pressed against the camera button.
his camera turned on and he had no idea.
you, on the other hand, were met with the sight of the mystery man that had been supporting you the most.
he was hot.
like really fucking hot, your interest on this man peaked after you saw his pretty face. he was resting his phone on his thigh was he held it up, you could see the stubble on his face, his dark black hair. he was older than you expected, but if anything it added to the appeal.
this man seemed to be seasoned, he was staring down at his phone with his eyebrows furrowed as a small sigh of bliss left his lips. he was jerking his cock, you noticed by the way his body moved, there was an arm that wasn’t getting picked up by the camera that worked on rubbing his cock raw.
you noticed how his icy blue eyes focused on you, staring at the screen of his phone with a lovesick look on his face.
he looked so pathetically hot, it wasn’t something you thought you’d find attractive, but seeing how desperate this older man was for you made you unbelievably horny. you squirmed in your seat before your hand slipped down, you moved and slipped your hand under the fabric of your panties. letting out a sigh, you felt your middle finger gently toy your clit.
“leon?” you mused, leaning your head back and spreading your legs for the camera to pick up how your hand was shoved under your panties. you reached over to your desk and grabbed a dildo, showing it to him. “wanna watch?” you offered, moving the silicone cock in a playful manner.
leon’s eyes widened in surprise, but nodded.
he gulped and you watched as his adam’s apple bopped up with the swallow.
leon watched as you slipped off your panties and grabbed a bottle of lube. you quickly coated your pretty pussy and dildo with the thick cream and leaned back once more.
your pussy was on full display as you pressed the tip of the dildo against your puffy folds. “ready?” you asked softly as you bit your bottom lip.
this whole scene that was unfolding in front of leon felt like it was going to kill him. he’s seen your pussy before, he’s seen you fuck yourself before, but there was something different this time. it was all dedicated to him.
only him.
“yes,” he shuddered as he gripped his cock tightly, you smiled at him and slowly slipped the dildo inside of you. a soft sigh left your lips as your warm pussy sucked in the silicone, leon watched eagerly. like a kid in a candy store, he would kill to be the one inside you.
your squirmed and rolled your hips against the dildo, looking into the camera as your free hand moved to grip your tit. “oh, leon.” you moaned out, smirking as you watched your screen to see his reaction. “you feel so good..” you teased.
leon’s eyes widened when he heard you moan out his name, were you pretending it was him fucking you? did you want to send his heart into cardiac arrest?
this cock throbbed against his hand, begging for attention, pleading for leon to let it cum.
leon’s balls were heavy with cum, it was unbearable to keep teasing, but he couldn’t help it.
a small whine left leon’s lips as he slowly stroked his cock, watching as you fucked yourself with your dildo. “you think so?” leon replied back, his face felt hot as he spoke, he’s never done dirty talk through the phone. he was embarrassed, was he doing it right?
you nodded, smiling hazily at the camera, “mhm..” you trailed off as a small gasp left your lips, the dildo focused on fucking your pussy. your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the filling feeling of your dildo, the silicone ridges and fake veins pressing and molding your walls. your pace was steady, your head leaning to the side as you continued.
leon was getting the perfect view of your pretty face and your stuffed cunt. he could hear the soft squelches coming from your cunt as it sucked the dildo back inside eagerly. he watched as your pussy glistened with slick, his body aching, he wanted to be there with you. he wanted to feel you.
but the world was cruel towards leon, and all he could do is watch and pretend he was the one fucking you.
“you’re so big.” you babbled softly, watching your computer screen, watching his reaction. he shuddered and trembled, moving on his cock slowly.
leon shut his eyes and grunted, his head leaning back desperately as his body ached. he occasionally looked back at the screen, looking at you with such admiration behind his gaze. like he was admiring a beautiful painting.
he was so cute.
“y-yeah,” he groaned, his body feeling hot, it was overwhelming. he felt the thinnest sheet of sweat coat his body, a swirling feeling coming to his lower tummy, it felt like a tight pressure. “—am i making you feel good?” he whispered out, his eyes shutting as his hand continued to jerk his cock.
each jerk felt like a rush of electricity went through his veins, an electric shockwave whose only purpose was to bring pleasure.
you moved your hand down and gently began to toy with your clit, pressing on the puffy bud as you fucked yourself. “no one has ever made me feel like this, leon.” you teased, moaning out his name softly. it was like music to his ears.
he couldn’t take it anymore, he physically couldn’t hold back, he should’ve gotten a cock ring to try and make him last longer.
“m’gonna cum, i’m sorry—“ he babbled, feeling bad for cumming so fast, he just didn’t have the self control he used to have on his prime. his hand began to jerk his cock in a fast, sloppy pace. his chest was rising and falling rather quickly, unable to catch his breath as he chased his orgasm.
leon moved his phone, he kept it by his lap, but by the position you could see his aching cock.
“it’s okay, baby.” you mumbled out, watching as he neared his orgasm. his dick was pretty, the size was okay, the thickness was there, and his tip was bright red. his hand gripped his shaft, he had pretty hands. large and masculine, you even saw an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist. you knew he had money, how else would he be sending you such high donations, but something in your stomach fluttered when you noticed.
you continued to fuck your dildo into your pussy, trying to match his sloppy pace. “cum for me.” you hummed, your tone playful and laced with lust.
this was so hot.
leon shuddered and moaned, his hand continued to rub his cock raw, he clenched his jaw and shut his eyes tightly as he focused on cumming.
the pressure in his lower belly was so tight, but after a couple of more harsh jerks, the tight knot inside his stomach burst. his balls strained and tightened as cum began to spurt out of his tip. it was thick and milky, staining leon’s stomach and hand.
while he came, leon’s body trembled, his toes curled, and his back arched slightly as a loud moan left his lips. he didn’t mean to moan out like that, but with the circumstances he couldn’t help it. this was pure bliss, his body felt lighter and his head felt fuzzy. he continued to slowly stroke his cock as it throbbed, he rode out his orgasm, his cum still spewing out of his cock for a few more seconds before his body relaxed.
leon shuddered as his cock began to go soft in his hand, he grimaced as he looked at the cum that stained his hand before wiping it off against his sweats.
panting, leon looked back at his phone, his face was red and his whole body was hot.
“shit, i’m sorry, i wanted to wait for you.” leon said breathlessly, you shut your eyes and continued to toy with your clit as you shook your head. “don’t apologize, it was really hot.” you moaned out, fluttering your eyes open as you looked at the monitor, eyeing him up as he laid back panting.
your clit was puffy and slick, aching for more.
rolling your hips up, your hands continue to work against your cunt, making your legs twitch and tremble. putting on a show for the lonely man in front of you.
biting the inside of his cheek, leon watched desperately, if he was younger he probably would’ve gotten hard again as he watched, but his cock didn’t have enough strength to stand. it didn’t matter, now leon could finally appreciate you, your pretty face, your pretty body, and your pretty pussy.
he loved the faces you made, they were so genuine.
if he was fucking you, would you be making those faces too? god he hoped so.
by now, a specific heat blossomed by your clit as your finger toyed with it. your touch was gentle and light, it felt like your clit was burning in the hottest way as the nerves went on overdrive.
“fuck, fuck, fuck—“ you whined, your voice strained as you focused on breaking the tight knot inside your lower tummy.
leon shuddered, seeing the way your eyebrows furrowed as you bit your bottom lip, you were so cute. leon wanted to say something, but it was like his brain was a blank slate. he couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak, he just watched as your glistening pussy throb.
it didn’t take long for the knot to snap, and once it did, your body jolted as a loud whine of his name left your lips. your thighs clamped together while your hand stayed pressed between your legs, the silicone cock was nestled nicely inside you, warm and sticky.
your body trembled as you panted, your head leaning back against the seat as you regained your thoughts.
god.
leon has seen you cum various times before, sure, but there’s something so different about it here. it was mind boggling and his head felt dizzy, a shiver going down his spine.
this was all a private show, all of this was only for him. no one else was as lucky as he was, he felt like he was getting spoiled.
watching you unravel and cry out his name had leon’s brain oozing, he felt demented, like his brain had melted and he was left as a zombie. he could tilt his head over right now and watch as his melted brain would come spilling out.
metaphorically, of course.
you reveled in the afterglow of your climax, your pussy felt like it was pulsating and throbbing. slowly, your hazy gaze focused back on the screen and you locked eyes with leon.
he let out a breath as he looked at you, it felt like you were really looking into his eyes.
he still had no idea his camera was on and you could see how enamored he looked.
slowly, with a long, soft squelch, you pulled the dildo out of your sticky pussy. you moved the silicone up to your lips and leaned in closer to the camera before you licked off the slick that coated the toy.
your tongue moved slowly, and occasionally you would glance at the camera, making eye contact with him as you cleaned up your dildo and the only thing that ran through leon’s head as he watched was: i wish that was me.
squirming, leon felt like his mouth was salivating at the sight.
eventually, you finished licking off your dildo before you placed a gentle kiss on its head before you put it away, hidden away from what the camera could pick up. “liked that?” you mused, tilting your head to the side with a cute little smile. it was almost funny how cute you looked after you fucked yourself in front of him.
“yeah.” leon said quickly, gulping back saliva as he looked at you so dearly, “um,” he began, clearing his throat awkwardly, “..is it okay to talk more? if you have the time.” leon mumbled, because deep down, he still wanted to talk to you — to carry a conversation with you, to try and charm you.
looking at the time displayed on your monitor, you hummed, drawing it out to tease him slightly. after a few seconds that felt like an eternity for leon, you looked back at the camera and nodded. “of course, i have time.” you said, winking at the camera before you stood up and slipped your panties on. you left the chair for a second before you picked up your band shirt off the floor and slipped it on.
plopping back down on the chair, you smiled and looked back at the camera.
“so, tell me more about you, leon.”
≻ the call ended not too long ago, leon rested his phone down on his bed as he let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead. his chest felt fuzzy and he felt giddy.
the two of you had spoke for a few hours and now that the call ended, leon yearned to hear your voice again.
he felt silly like this, but he couldn’t help it.
he missed your voice, your face, the way you moved your hands when you spoke, the small gestures you made when you talked about something you were passionate about.
he missed you.
reaching over for his flask, leon quickly popped it open and took another long swig. swallowing back his beloved whiskey like he was a dehydrated man drinking water, throughout the call, he hadn’t drank to try and not get drunk and ruin the moment. but now that the call ended and he had time, leon was happily swallowing back the whiskey.
hearing his phone buzz against his bed sheets, he reached out for it quickly, a swirl of excitement coming to him as he saw it was you that texted.
it was two attachments, a photo of your perky tits and another one of your computer screen — that’s where he saw it. he was on the screen.
the photo you had taken was when he had his phone down, getting a good angle of his side profile from the bottom. for the eyes of someone else, it was a good picture and he looked good. his hair was messy in just the right way, his adam’s apple was on display and given the fact his phone was down, the picture also captured his waist, chest, and shoulders. showing off his body underneath the shirt he wore.
it was a good photo, but leon’s heart dropped to the floor when he saw it.
had his camera been on the whole time? is that why there was a small red dot next to his selfie camera? clicking out of the photos, he read your text nervously, but after reading it, his face flushed.
taking back another swing of his flask, he shuddered.
‘you looked really good today ;)) wanna call again tomorrow? <3’
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hotshotsxyz · 1 month ago
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doctor, doctor, give me the news
(buddie) (1.4k words) (8x05 spec) y'all i think i kind of went off with this one
Tommy flinches. It’s a quick, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it thing that he quickly turns into a playful cringe, but for a second, it was real. It was real and Buck saw it and he doesn’t know how to unsee it.
He pulls his phone out and opens the camera so he can see it for himself, and okay, yeah, it’s not great. But also—they’re both firefighters. Buck’s seen way worse than swollen, red skin, and he’s sure Tommy has too.
“Afraid of the curse now?” he asks lightly instead of voicing the thought.
“Um, yeah, I think you’ve convinced me,” Tommy replies.
Buck squints at his own image. “What do you think it is?”
“Other than a curse?” Tommy asks.
Buck nods.
“Honestly, Evan, I have no idea. Maybe we should call in some back-up.”
“What?” Buck asks, brow furrowing. “Like some kind of curse breaker?”
Tommy snorts. “Like someone with a little more medical training,” he replies.
“Oh, yeah that—that’s probably a good idea,” Buck says. He feels himself flush even redder.
“You want me to call Hen? Or Chimney, maybe?” Tommy asks.
Buck shakes his head. “They’re taking the kids to a haunted hayride today. I’ll text Eddie.”
Tommy’s nose wrinkles a little, and Buck can’t help but wonder which part of what he just said Tommy didn’t like. He types out a quick message.
SOS. curse real. need paramedic diaz asap
Eddie’s reply is almost instantaneous and comes in three short messages.
not a paramedic
and curses aren’t real
I’m on my way
Buck looks up from his phone. “He’ll be here soon,” he says.
“That was fast,” Tommy observes.
Buck shrugs. For a second he considers sending Eddie a selfie, something to prepare him for the not-so-pleasant sight of his face, but he—
He kind of wants to see if Eddie flinches, too.
Eddie’s key turns in the lock and Tommy shoots Buck an odd look. He’d try to parse it, but he’s really starting to feel how much his face hurts and he kind of just wants Eddie to hurry up and fix it. He stands and walks past the stairs in time to see him shut the door.
“Ouch,” Eddie hisses as soon as he catches sight of whatever it is his face is doing now. It’s not a flinch. If anything, he sways forward like he might at a scene. Assessing. Ready to jump in as soon as he’s formed a plan.
“Yeah,” Buck says. “Told you I’m cursed.”
Eddie lets out a light laugh. “Mm, I think I’m supposed to be the one making the diagnosis here,” he says.
He ushers Buck to the kitchen table, sets his med kit down, and pulls out a chair for him.
“Gee,” Buck says, “A guy could get used to this kind of medical care.”
Eddie grins. “Doctor Diaz, at your service,” he says, holding out a hand for Buck to shake.
Buck huffs a soft laugh and takes it. “I’ll be a good patient, I promise,” he says.
“Don’t start lying to me now,” Eddie replies, eyes twinkling.
Across the table, Tommy chokes.
Buck drops Eddie’s hand and looks over at him. “You okay?” he asks.
“Mm,” Tommy hums. “Just uh—got some spit down the wrong pipe.”
Buck frowns but doesn’t push it any further. He looks back at Eddie and finds him rummaging through his kit with a pen light between his teeth. He makes a triumphant noise and turns to Buck.
“Alright, let’s see,” Eddie says softly.
He steps into the space between Buck’s legs, and Buck’s brain kind of just—freezes.
“Look up for me?” Eddie prompts, and when Buck doesn’t—can’t—immediately comply, Eddie presses two fingers beneath his chin and guides it up until suddenly the only thing Buck can see are Eddie’s eyes. “Thought you we’re going to be a good patient,” Eddie murmurs.
All at once, Buck’s brain unfreezes, skipping right past calm and into hyperdrive. Because—because—he’s looking at Eddie and Eddie’s thumb is skating across the skin that’s just beneath the worst of the swelling  and Buck can feel it and surely Eddie’s touched his face before except—except—no, Buck’s pretty sure he hasn’t but now that he has Buck’s never going to be able to forget the way it feels because he knows it should hurt, it should, but it doesn’t and he kind of never wants Eddie to stop touching him and that’s—that’s—
“—hurt?” Eddie asks, only Buck misses 90% of the question so instead of answering he hums vaguely and watches Eddie’s face twist in sympathy.
Eddie starts dabbing something on Buck’s face, hydrocortisone maybe, or triple anti-biotic—whatever it is it feels cool and nice and as Eddie concentrates on his task he bites down on his lip and suddenly Buck can’t look at anything else, can’t look at the furrow in Eddie’s brow can’t look at the ceiling can’t—
“You think he’ll live?” Tommy asks dryly.
Buck feels like he’s been doused with cold water.
Eddie’s lips, those lips that he still can’t bring himself to look away from, twitch into a small smile. “Depends,” he says. “Has anyone figured out how to break the curse?”
It punches a laugh out of Buck’s chest, the kind that comes out in a single syllable and with a rush of air. Eddie takes a step back and finally Buck feels like his brain is returning from the stratosphere, back to its baseline level of chaos.
“So—” Buck tries, but it comes out rough. He clears his throat. “What’s uh—what’s the diagnosis.”
Eddie frowns. “Honestly? It kind of looks like spider bites.”
Tommy’s chair clatters back, and when Buck looks over he’s suddenly standing.
“Babe?” Buck asks, but it feels gummy and unfamiliar in his mouth.
“I, um—not a fan of spiders,” he squeaks.
Eddie blows out a soft breath that Buck’s pretty sure only he could recognize as laughter.
“You don’t have to stick around,” Buck says, and he swears he means stick around the loft, but—but—“I’m okay, I’ve got the second best doctor in Los Angeles looking after me.”
“Second!” Eddie exclaims, mock affronted.
“Hen,” Buck replies with a shrug.
Eddie heaves a dramatic sigh. “You’re not wrong.”
Tommy looks between them, a deep furrow in his brow. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll uh—I’ll head out.” He backs toward the door, then pauses as he gets a hand on the knob. “See you tomorrow?” he directs at Buck.
“’Course,” Buck replies, and he’s pretty sure if Tommy had asked him that this morning his reply would’ve sounded soft and sweet to his own ear, but now Buck doesn’t hear much of anything at all.
Tommy nods once, and then he’s gone.
Buck looks back at Eddie, and god, he tries. He tries so hard not to notice the long line of Eddie’s legs where he’s leaning against the table, not quite sitting on it. He tries not to think about that soft curl, the one that makes an appearance more often than not these days, the one that rests against his forehead. He wants—he doesn’t—Eddie’s not—
Buck stands abruptly, except Eddie never did take more than a step back and now they’re practically nose to nose and Buck isn’t sure if he’s still breathing. Eddie’s head tips to the side and Buck—there’s not a thing he can do to stop the freight train that is his imagination, and oh, he can see it. He can feel it.
All at once he’s sure that if Eddie Diaz were to lean in and kiss him—right now, or a year from now, or a decade—if Eddie kissed him, Buck would be ruined in every sense of the word. He’d never be able to kiss another person without seeing Eddie, feeling Eddie, tasting Eddie and—
He wouldn’t want to.
Buck takes a stumbling step back and knocks into his chair, making it clatter the same way Tommy’s had. And fuck, for a second he didn’t even—
“Buck?” Eddie asks, all concern and kindness and wide brown eyes.
“Fine!” Buck says. “I’m fine. You—you, uh—do you want—” Me? Us? Something terrifying and perfect and permanent and “—water?”
Eddie’s brows knit together. “Sure,” he says. “But sit back down. Let me get it.”
“Okay,” Buck breathes. He sinks into his chair.
Eddie grabs two glasses out of his cabinet without even pausing to think and fills them with the Brita he already knew was in Buck’s fridge and snags a coaster that he bought before placing one of the glasses in front of Buck.
“Seriously,” he says, settling into the chair closest to him and leaning forward, “are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Buck says, and he’s honest to god not even sure if he’s lying.
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aubreyprc · 1 year ago
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Emily and Aaron's day keeps going from bad to worse.
And to think, when she woke up that morning her biggest fear was that the team would find out about their relationship.
-x-
Hi friends!!
This fic is a birthday gift for my bestie @aubreyprc! Thank you for continuing to be the most chaotic person I know and for being responsible for a fair number of my hangovers this year. Love you for being the maddest woman in this whole town xoxo
This fic is loosely based on a Bone's episode, and has one of your favourite tropes - a secret relationship, peril and a lot of drama- so I hope you enjoy <3
-x-
Words: 5.2k (I...got really carried away with this one)
Warnings: Canon typical violence
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Emily secures her earrings into place as she walks into the kitchen, a smile washing across her face as the smell of coffee and toast meets her. Aaron has his back to her, focusing on her toaster so he makes sure the bread is cooked exactly to her liking, so she walks over and wraps her arms around him from behind. He sinks into her embrace, clearly having heard her coming, the way her high heels had clicked against the hardwood floor giving her away. 
“Good morning,” he says, turning to press a kiss to her forehead. 
“Morning,” she replies, her hand slinking down his back as she shifts to stand next to him, taking the opportunity to stamp a kiss against his lips, “You didn’t have to make me breakfast.” 
He raises an eyebrow at her and smiles, “You say that every morning,” he says, kissing her briefly before he presses the button that releases the toast, “And like I say every morning,” he says, turning so he wraps his arms around her, his hands low on her back, “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” 
She smiles, her tongue pressing against the back of her teeth as she looks up at him through her lashes. She hums as she leans in to kiss him again, “Excellent point.” 
They’d been together for almost a year, the 11 months that had passed since their first date had been the happiest of her life. Since her return from Paris, he’d been the one person who’d expected the least out of her. Everyone else seemed to want her to slip back into her old life, to be the person she’s sure died on that cold hard floor in Boston, and she’d tried. She’d tried so hard to ignore how strange everything felt, how the fear that it could all be torn away from her again was ever present, living under her skin and making her itch in a way that never seemed to shift. Aaron simply wanted her to be honest with him, to tell her when she was having a bad day, a request she now knew came from a place of understanding, their pasts now similar in a way that made her ache. 
She now liked to think, love making her softer than it ever had, that everything they’d been through had led them to this. To the relationship that she knew was it. Every first she had experienced with him also a last for her. A last first kiss, a last first night staying over, a last first I love you. She wanted everything with him. A house they could both call home. Marriage. A couple of kids who would be younger siblings for Jack. 
The only problem was no one else knew about them. 
The secrecy had been practical at first. She’d been home for just over six months when they got together, and they’d been hesitant to rock the boat, to further crack the unsteady foundation the team was slowly building under themselves at the time. Their relationship had grown around the secrecy, making it feel all the more precious because it was just theirs. Only Jack and Jessica knew and Emily knew it couldn’t last forever, that if they wanted to move forward, like she knew they both wanted to, they’d have to let the others in. 
She didn’t remember the last time that they’d spent a night apart. They most most of their time at his place, something about the homely comfort of it, Jack’s belongings strewn everywhere, made her feel safe, but they occasionally stayed at hers. Even Sergio lived at Aaron’s now, his favourite place to sleep was at the end of Jack’s bed, the little boy and the cat fast friends in a way that made her chest bloom with love. 
They’d stayed at hers last night, mostly for practical reasons. She had to go to court to be a witness for the prosecution for two separate cases that had happened to fall on the docket on the same day, so she’d needed to get clothes she usually wouldn’t wear to work. Juries seemed to warm to her a little more if she wore skirts or dresses, something about the lack of sharp edges from her usual suits that made her more likeable. It drove her crazy, and infuriated her that they were more likely to listen to her if she dressed in a certain way, but being aware of it was one of the benefits of her profession. 
It also didn’t hurt that Aaron could never tear his eyes from her legs whenever she wore a dress, his gaze skipping from her ankle to up past her knee, only to linger on the material that hid what he knew lingered beneath. 
She smiles at him as she pulls away from him and pours them a coffee each, her skin burning from where she can feel him staring at her. She turns to look at him and raises an eyebrow, her smile widening when she clears her throat and he jumps slightly, his cheeks going red when he realises he’s been caught. 
“Seen something you like?” She asks, feigning innocence as his eyes meet hers. He shakes his head and steps towards her, his hand skimming her waist as he takes one of the cups of coffee. 
“When I’m looking at you?” He says, looking her up and down again, his stomach flipping at the sight of her seemingly endless legs, on the high heels she only broke out for court and date nights, before he meets her eyes again, “Always.”
She presses her lips together to capture a laugh but she fails, shaking her head at him, “Correct answer, honey.” 
He kisses her cheek and steps away, “Come on, we need to get you fed so you can survive court.” 
Emily grumbles as she sits at the breakfast bar and he slides a plate of toast towards her, “Let’s just hope I don’t die of boredom.” 
___
He always hated it when she wasn’t in the office. 
He loved to look out of the window and see her at her desk, her presence enough to soothe any stress or tension the job could cause him on any given day. Sometimes she’d notice him looking down at her and her eyes would meet his, a sparkle in her smile that he knew was just for him and his son. Other times she’d be stuck in her work, concentrating on paperwork or teasing Derek or Spencer, flashes of who she’d been before Ian had torn through their lives peeking through. He’d loved her then and he loved her now, and he knew he’d love every version of her that would exist in their future together. 
He checks his phone, waiting for Emily to text him to say she was out of her morning session in court, and he sighs as he places it back down when he has no messages from her. He’s about to pick up his pen to continue with his paperwork when there’s a firm knock on his door, a panicked Derek pushing it open before he can tell him to come in.
“Hotch,” he breathes out, his grip on the door so tight Aaron is sure he could tear it from its hinges, “There’s been a shooting at the courthouse.” 
It takes a moment for pieces to slip into place, for him to realise the implication. The realisation forces him to his feet, his hands clasped at his side as he tries to control himself, knowing his girlfriend wouldn’t thank him for revealing their relationship this way. 
“Have we heard from Pren-”
He’s cut off by the ringing of his phone and he grabs it, relief flooding through him when he sees Emily’s name on the screen, a picture of her and Jack his contact photo for her. He answers quickly, his eyes meeting Derek’s as he speaks. 
“Emily, we just heard about the shooting,” he says, hoping Derek doesn’t pick up on the slip-up of using her first name, “What’s happening?”
Any relief Aaron feels is destroyed the moment a stranger responds instead of the woman he loves.
___
She hears him before she sees him. 
He’s loud as he demands to see her, clearly flashing his badge to get past the cordons that had been put in place. She forces a smile on her face as he comes into view, rounding the back of the ambulance she was sitting in with purpose. Her heart aches when she sees how stressed he is, barely concealed fear and panic clear in his eyes, in the tension in his shoulder. 
“Em.” 
“I’m fine, honey,” she says, reaching out and grasping his hand as he climbs into the audience, barely glancing at the paramedic who had been treating her. 
“Fine?” He exclaims, his eyebrows furrowing, “You’re in the back of an ambulance, there was someone here with a gun-”
She cups his face, cutting him off before he can spiral in a way that only she and Jack could draw out of him, “Aaron. I’m fine. I just rolled my ankle, thats all,” she says, nodding towards her now bare feet, her wrapped ankle and her heels neatly next to each other on the floor next to her, “Turns out that those stupid heels I have to wear to court aren’t the thing to dodge bullets in.” He sinks in on himself, her attempt at humour doing nothing to calm him down, and she sighs, “I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say.” 
“No,” he says, squeezing her hand tighter, “No you’re never stupid I was just…I was worried that’s all. Especially when I got a call from you and it wasn’t you who answered.” 
“Well,” she says, flicking her gaze to the paramedic, taking some joy out of how he looks away, clearly intimidated by her, “Well I did say I was okay to call you myself, but there are apparently protocols.” 
Aaron smiles softly, her dislike of procedure something that made him fall impossibly more in love with her every time it made itself known. His smile slips away as he thinks about what had happened here today, how he could have lost her in slightly different circumstances. 
“Do…do you think they were aiming for you?” He asks, knowing he’d trust her judgement above all else no matter how she responds. She was trained in this kind of thing well above even him, a level of skill that hadn’t ever made any sense to him until he learnt about her time at Interpol.
The way her face falls, the way she presses her lips together, is all the answer he needs. 
“Yes,” she replies, squeezing his hand, “I think they were.” 
He nods and pulls her into a hug, holding her tightly as he kisses the side of her head, “The rest of the team are back at the office trying to get to the bottom of it. It’s likely connected to one of the cases you were here for today so Garcia is looking into associates for both of the defendants,” he says, “I’m going to take you home so you can rest.”
She rolls her eyes, “Aaron-”
“We’re going back to mine,” he says, leaving no room for argument, “And then the others can update me from there.” 
She wants to argue with him, wants to insist that they go back to the office and figure out what is going on, but she can’t bring herself to. Not when he was looking at her like she could break in two, his grip on her bordering on too tight for the first time since they’d got together. 
“Okay,” she says, cupping his cheek again as she relents, “Okay, but we need to go back to mine first.” 
“Em-”
“Just to pick up some shoes,” she assures him,” her thumb running back and forth on his cheek, “I only have boots at yours, I think I’ll be regulated to sneakers for a couple of weeks.” 
He nods, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers, “Okay,” he closes his eyes and swallows thickly, “I love you.” 
She smiles and moves her hand to the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his hair. She ignores how she can feel the paramedic looking at them, his curious gaze on her back. 
“I love you too,” she replies, kissing him quickly before she pulls back to look at him, “Let’s go home.” 
She lets him fuss over her. 
He hands her a pair of his socks that he keeps in his go bag so she has something on her feet, the thought of putting her heels back on enough to make her grimace. When they get back to her place he wraps his arm tightly around her waist, guiding her to the living room and helping her onto the couch. She grasps onto his jacket and pulls him down to join her, resting her head on his shoulder as she traps him in place. 
“Sit here with me for a minute,” she insists, curling around him, his arm hugged to her chest. She can feel the stiffness in his embrace, how tense he is. He was usually relaxed when it was just the two of them or when they were with Jack, an ease to his frame she hadn’t known he was capable of until she started spending time with him out of work. She presses a kiss to his shoulder, “Are you okay?” 
A laugh catches in his chest and he shakes his head, “You were the one who got hurt,” he replies, “I’m fine.” 
She hums, deciding to let it go for now. She knew him almost better than she knew herself. He needed to work things out by himself, a hangover from years of having to do so. She was the same way, and slowly but surely they were getting better at not needing to turn inwards before they each other help. 
“Have you heard from the team yet?” She asks, running her hand up and down his arm. 
He nods, “They are interviewing both Grisham and Haig,” he says, blowing out a breath, shaking his head at the mention of the men they’d once hunted that she’d been due to give evidence against today, “And their families. We are leaning more towards Haig at the moment, Grisham’s MO was always explosives, if whoever is trying to stop you wanted to make a point that’s what they’d do.” 
She nods in agreement, “Well, I don’t fancy getting blown up so is it weird I’m grateful?” 
He chuckles, his real laugh that never fails to make her heart soar, and he shakes his head at her, “I understand what you mean, so if it’s weird what does that say about us both,” he kisses her temple, “Want something to drink before we head to mine?” 
“I think there’s some Diet Coke in there,” she replies and he smiles and stands up, his hand firm on her thigh.
“There is,” he says as he walks towards her kitchen, “I got some when I did your grocery shopping last week.”
She moans in delight as she turns to look at him, her smile wide as he places his hand on the fridge door, “I knew I love you for a reas-”
She’s cut off as he pulls the fridge door open and he’s thrown backwards, the explosion that tears through her kitchen seemingly happening in slow motion as he hits the ground with force. The sprinklers almost immediately are triggered, soaking her kitchen with water as she jumps up off the couch.
“Aaron?”
He doesn’t respond, his silence only pushing her closer to him, somehow avoiding standing on any the debris that had once been her kitchen counter as she runs over to him, the pain in her ankle not even registering. She lands on her knees by his side and touches him, ignoring the shake in her hands as she turns him just enough to see his face. 
She shakes him and he doesn’t flinch, making panic fill up her chest, making it hard to breathe. 
“Aaron?”
____
She’s barely been at the hospital for an hour when the team arrive, their presence both a comfort and a curse, forcing her to transition into a concerned colleague from a concerned girlfriend. 
“Emily,” Penelope says, sitting down next to her and wrapping her arm around her shoulders, “Are you okay?”
She nods, clearing her throat as she looks at her friends, “Yeah, I was in the living room, Aaron…Hotch took the blast.” 
“What was Hotch doing at yours anyway?” Dave asks her, his hands in his pockets where he stands in front of her. 
“He dropped me home,” she says, looking up at Dave, purposely ignoring the almost smug smile on his face, “He opened the fridge to get me a drink. You know what he’s like,” she says, her focus returning to her hands, “He’s a gentleman through and through.” 
JJ nods, “That’s true enough,” she says, “We’ve shifted our focus onto Grisham because of the explosion.” 
“How’s Hotch doing? What about his hearing?” 
She blows out a breath at Spencer’s question. It had been her first concern too, something she’d mentioned to the doctors when they’d arrived by ambulance. “They said they’d test it, but he did wake up in the ER and he could hear me.” 
It felt ridiculous that one of her first thoughts if he did lose his hearing was that he’d never hear her say she loved him again, or hear the voices of their future children. It was easier to worry about that, about things that may never come to pass, instead of the fact someone could have killed him in their pursuit if killing her. 
“Family of Aaron Hotchner,” A doctor says as he enters the room, cutting off any further conversation. 
“I’m his medical proxy,” Emily answers as she stands up, aware of the team all looking at each other curiously out of the corner of her eye, “Is he okay?” 
“He’s got several cracked ribs, a broken collarbone, and a concussion. He’ll be in a lot of pain for a while, but he’s okay.”
The relief is palpable, her hand on her chest, “Can I see him?” 
The doctor nods, “Of course, I’ll have someone come find you to take you to him in a moment.” 
“Thank you so much,” she replies, blowing out a steady breath as she turns back to the team, unsurprised by the different levels of curiosity painted across their faces. 
“You’re Hotch’s proxy?” Derek asks, his arms crossed over his chest. 
“He’s mine too,” she explains, “We switched it a little while back, so if something happens Jessica and Jack wouldn’t be worried before they need to be.” The half-lie rolls off of her tongue with ease, but she doesn’t have the energy to figure out if they believe her or not. 
Thankfully she isn’t left with enough time to worry about it when a nurse walks into the room to escort her to Aaron’s room. She limps all the down the hallway, the pain in her ankle returning now her adrenaline was disappearing. She thanks the nurse as she steps into Aaron’s room, and she barely hides a gasp when she sees him.
He was covered in bruises, the worst of them peeking out from under this hospital gown and the immobiliser that was holding his arm to his chest to stabilise his collarbone. He had cuts on his face, the largest of which was above his left eyebrow, and his right cheek was bruised. 
“Surely I can’t look that bad,” he quips, and he smiles at her when their eyes meet. She sighs, unsure how they went so quickly from her making jokes about an injury to make him feel better to the other way around. She wanted nothing more than to go back to that morning, to pull him back into bed and cancel their plans for the day. He sighs and lifts his good hand as high as he can, the pain in his ribs meaning he can barely lift it from the bed, “Come here, sweetheart.” 
She walks across the room and sits on the edge of the bed and she wraps both of her hands around his, “I hate today.”
He chuckles and squeezes her hand, “It’s not exactly on my top five list either,” he says, watching how she keeps her gaze on their joint hands, “Are you okay?” 
She laughs dryly, and shakes her head as she looks up at him. She presses her lips together as tears press at the back of her eyes, “I think it was you who said ‘I’m fine it’s you who got hurt’ only a couple of hours ago.” 
He sighs, “Em…” 
She releases one of her hands from around his and wipes a stray tear from her cheek, “You got hurt because of me.”
“I got hurt because someone is trying to get a serial killer out of being tried for his crimes,” he says, smiling softly at her, “It’s not your fault,” 
She wishes she could believe him, that the guilt that was churning in her belly would go away, but instead, she nods and wipes another tear from her cheek, “The team are looking at Grisham in more detail because of the explosion,” she says, “And my kitchen is a mess.” 
Aaron nods, “I don’t want you by yourself tonight,” he says, already sensing her argument, “I mean it, Em. Otherwise, I’ll check myself out of here against medical advice and make sure you aren’t alone.”
He knows he’s playing dirty, that he’s using her love and concern for him against her, but it works, she relents by nodding. 
“Okay,” she says, leaning down to kiss him, “I doubt Derek would have let me go anywhere alone tonight anyway,” she pushes his hair off of his forehead, “Want me to stay until you fall asleep?” 
“Always,” he replies, trying to sit up for a kiss but failing. She smiles and leans down to kiss him, “Since your kitchen has been blown up,” he says as she pulls back, his breath skipping across her skin in a way she’d worried she’d never feel again, “Maybe you should just officially move in with me.” 
She smiles and kisses him once more before she pulls back, “We’ll talk about it once you can sit up straight by yourself, okay?” She says, even though she knows her answer could only ever be yes. 
“Okay,” he replies, leaning back against his pillow, his smile turning sleepy from all the medication in his system, “Love you.”
“You too,” she replies. She stays until he’s fallen asleep, careful when she stands up from the bed so as not to disturb him. She presses a kiss to his forehead before she steps away and leaves the room. She gives herself a moment to lean on the wall, her palm against her forehead as she blows out a breath. “Fuck this has been a long day.” She steps away from the wall as she decides to find the team, ready to leave the hospital for the evening, already mentally counting down the hours until she can come and see Aaron again.
“Agent Prentiss?”
She turns to look at a man in scrubs just to her left. There was something about his face that was familiar, but she couldn’t place it, sure he must have been one of the many nurses they’d encountered in the ER when they arrived, “Yes?”
“There’s just a few more pieces of paperwork I need you to sign.” 
She nods, letting him guide her away from the hallway, towards a more isolated part of the hospital floor. It’s only when she realises they are alone she starts to question it, her usually quick mental reflexes dulled by everything that had happened since she’d woken up that morning. 
“Where are we-”
She’s cut off as a hand goes over her mouth, and a needle goes into her neck. She tries to call out for help, but her head starts to swim and her eyes drift shut, plunging her into darkness.
___
She wakes up quickly, startled as she tries to remember falling asleep. Her arms ache and she looks up to see her hands are cuffed together and hooked over a metal bar above her head, she tries to pull at them, to loosen the shackles but she fails. She tries to push down the panic that being handcuffed stirs in her belly, and she shakes her head in an attempt to physically try and rid her brain of the comparison to when Ian had held her captive.
“You’re not going to get out of them.” 
She turns her head, the movement making her neck ache from the strain in her arms, and is only partially surprised to find the man who she now knew had been impersonating a member of hospital staff.
“You should let me go,” she says calmly, “I’m a federal agent, you’ll be in a lot of trouble for this.” 
He chuckles as he steps towards her, pulling a gun from the waistband of his pants, “You’re very confident for someone who has a gun pointed at them.”
“My team will find you,” she says, proud of herself for the steadiness of her voice, how it doesn’t shake.
He shrugs, “I think they are likely distracted by the other case you were due to talk about today,” he smirks, “The explosion was the perfect decoy.” 
It clicks in her head, why she’d found his face familiar when he approached her at the hospital. He was the brother of Haig, the man she’d spoken against as part of the prosecution’s case that morning. He’d been one of the few people sitting behind Haig in the gallery, his eyes fixed on Emily the entire time she spoke. 
“You’re Haig’s brother,” she says, and he clenches his teeth. 
“His name is Josh.” 
She nods and swallows thickly. He was unravelling in front of her, clearly not having thought any of this through beyond hurting her.
“How did you know about Grisham?” she asks and he laughs at her.
“I used to work for the DA’s office. They laid me off when my brother was arrested. When you arrested him. I still have contacts there who let me know about the other cases.”
“What’s your name?” She asks, trying to calm him down, the shake of his hand making nerves roll through her. 
“Stuart.” 
“Stuart, this isn’t going to help him,” she says, trying to reason with him, the ache in her arms and shoulders turning into pain that burned through her upper body, “This is only going to make things worse.” 
Stuart steps towards her again, his finger over the trigger, “If you don’t talk again tomorrow he won’t go down.” 
“That isn’t true,” she says, sucking in a breath as he steps even closer, the barrel of his gun against her abdomen, “Even if I’m not there, someone else will be called as an expert witness.”
“Who? He sneers, his breath smelling of whiskey and smoke as it washes over her, “Your boyfriend who almost had his face blown off?” 
The door behind them bursts open and Stuart turns, his gun raised and pointed towards it, but he doesn’t have a chance to pull the trigger. A gunshot echoes throughout the room and he falls to the ground, his gun clattering across the metal floor. Emily blows out a breath and looks up, a sound she can’t name catching in her chest as her eyes meet her boyfriend’s. 
The team was behind him, their guns raised, Derek clearly the one who had fired the shot that had taken out Stuart. 
“Aaron,” she breathes out as he walks towards her, clearly in agony with every step he takes towards her. He’s wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, one she’s sure belongs to Derek, and his arm is strapped to his chest under it, “You’re meant to be in hospital.” 
“Like I’d stay there once I found out you were missing,” he says, his eyes flicking up to her cuffed hands. 
He knows he doesn’t have the strength to raise his one good hand to unhook her arms that way, so he ducks under the cuffs and into the circle of her arms, He stands up straight and her arms shift from where she’d been hooked to over his shoulders, and he lowers them both to the ground.
“Are you okay?”
“Are you okay?” 
They speak simultaneously and then they both laugh, which pulls a wince out of Aaron. 
“How about we agree we don’t ask that question until at least the end of the day?” She says, and he nods, resting his forehead against hers as he tries to get his breath back.
“Sounds good to me,” he replies, stamping a kiss against hers.
“How did you figure it out?” She asks and a throat clears from behind them, and she suddenly remembers the team is there too. 
“We watched the CCTV the minute we realised you were missing, Bella,” Dave says, walking over and undoing her cuffs before pocketing his key again. She lets the cuffs fall free and unwraps her arms from around Aaron’s neck but she doesn’t move away, “It didn’t take too long to put together.”
“And you let him check himself out of the hospital?” She asks, her face incredulous as she purposely ignores how Aaron protests next to her. 
“Have you ever tried to argue with him, Princess?” Derek asks, his hands on his hips, “We can’t all get away with it like you do.” 
She groans as he winks knowingly at her and she looks back at her boyfriend and leans in to talk to him, “I think we’re busted.”
He smiles at her, “Sweetheart, I think we were the moment your fridge exploded in my face.” 
“Oh please,” JJ says, rolling her eyes at her friends, “We figured it out the moment Hotch ran out of the bullpen like a bat out of hell this morning when he found out about the shooting.” 
She looks up at her friends with her eyebrow raised in challenge, “Look, we’ll answer all your questions later,” she says, her hand linked with Aarons, “But can you give us a minute?” 
They all nod and Emily is grateful that they know when to push and when not to, and she smiles at Aaron when they back up enough to give them privacy. She leans in and stamps a kiss against his cheek. 
“Thank you for coming to save me,” she says, pushing some of his hair from his face, her fingers tracing over one of the cuts on his forehead. 
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he replies, “Although if we could avoid making a habit out of it when one of my arms is out of action I’d appreciate it.” 
She laughs and presses her forehead against his, “Deal.” She closes her eyes and gives herself a moment to breathe him in, the scent of him lingering under the smell of disinfectant and blood. 
“Em?”
“Yes, honey,” she says as she pulls back to look at him.
“I could really do with going back to the hospital now.” 
-x-
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heegyukeluv · 1 month ago
Text
If love was a battlefield…
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pairing: heeseung x afab reader x jake
synopsis: If love was a battlefield, could there be more than one winner? In which Heeseung and Jake work in the same company as you, both of them sharing the same position and the same feelings: their huge crush on you.
my's note: i had so much fun working on this plot honestlyyyy and it was a bit of a challenge (in a good way!!!) since i had to learn a bunch of terms in english to write it and also my first love triangle 🤭🤭 THANK YOU SO MUCH ANONIE FOR THE REQUEST!!! also wanna thank mika for helping me brainstorming! a few scenes from here came from our talks 💘🤭
warnings: office workers heejake, y/n is in a higher position than them (manager), miscommunication to some extent, love triangle (but she does chooses! [spoiler alert] maybe both? hehe), hee and jake doesn’t get along too much at first (ps: they DON’T hate each other) but they come around!, quick mention of hee having a tattoo, there’s fluff, reader blushing/turning red! and SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, protected sex 💪🏻, unprotected sex (please, don't!!!), oral sex (f. receiving), quick handjob, sex in the office, the smut is jake x reader and heeseung x reader, there's no threesome!, jake has praise kink, hee is lowkey into degradation (receiving). LMK if missed anything!!!
request: an office or work space love triangle of heeseung x reader/oc x jake (you can pick which one the reader leans more towards or not✨or both✨) either way!!! (request here!)
wc: 24k
NOT PROOFREAD.
taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers
Of course the printer would select that very specific day to malfunction, jamming the paper with its irritating noise that signaled another reset was needed, despite all your attempts to fix the problem. 
A wave of frustration washed through your body as you stepped back, taking a deep breath and fluttering your eyes shut in order to find any inner peace that might help you go through a simple routine task.
It wasn't just the clients pushing your buttons with their impossible deadlines, the entire work environment seemed to be against you, targeting you with its devilish plans. Everything that could go wrong, did.
You had little to no hope of getting better until your head rested on your pillow later that day. Unfortunately, there was still a whole six hours waiting for your irreplaceable presence. Being a manager had its perks, nonetheless, the down sides haunted you even in your dreams.
“Tough day?”
You startled at the sudden voice beside you, opening your eyes just to catch Jake sending you a curious glance, layered with a hint of comprehension. A ghost of a smile adorned his plump lips, his demeanor showed helpfulness, ready to assist. As usual.
“Some clients make the worst decisions and I’m the one cleaning their mess.” You began, exhaustion lacing your voice. “And some printers just hate me.” And then you shoot Jake an unamused smile.
Jake chuckled, his eyes turning into small crescents as he did so.
“May I?” He asked, gesturing towards the printer. You nodded, stepping aside to give him space to work. He began with the basics, checking for any simple errors. “It’s not running out of paper,” he pointed out quietly.
“Yeah…” You sighed and rested your body on the wall nearby. You had gone through everything Jake was doing.
“It doesn’t seem to be here. The problem.” He remarked, slightly confused.
You took a moment to observe how Jake’s concentrated frown deepened while he typed something on the computer, searching for the cause of the error. He nonchalantly played with his lips, wetting and biting them as he focused, his sharp eyes glued to the screen, slender fingers dancing across the keyboard.
You never paid close attention to how attractive Jake looked, especially while working – his light blue dress shirt and mandatory tie enhanced his pronounced features, complemented by his everyday black specs. 
Of course you thought Jake was handsome, any person in their right sense would. And his beauty was accompanied with his remarkable personality. He had a genuine, warm, prestative soul, ready to lend a hand whenever people needed him, and it was clear there was no expectation to receive anything in return as he did so.
Jake had unmatched intelligence and quick senses to discover easily what went wrong, and even his clumsiness, constantly dropping his pile of papers or having his glasses misplaced on the top of his nose’s bridge had its charm.
You never considered the possibility of Jake’s charming side. Nonetheless, there you were, unprofessionally checking out your colleague while hoping for a miracle.
“There you go!” Jake’s cheerful voice brought you back to reality, your heart racing in surprise.
“Did you fix it?” You questioned with a hopeful tone.
“Let’s see.” Jake replied and then pressed a few buttons.
To your surprise, the printer emitted its usual sound instead of the annoying one, smoothly pulling the paper and delivering it back, fully printed with your work’s documents.
“Jake! What the hell!” You exclaimed, mouth agape and eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment, a bright and genuine smile started to creep on the corner of your mouth as you looked back and forth between Jake and the printer. “What did you do?” You asked under your breath, still astonished with Jake’s quick and excellent skills. It felt like you could finally breathe again.
And it was just a malfunctioning printer. 
“I just–”
“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” You waved it off, too relieved to finally continue with your very busy day – the few minutes the printer had stolen from you would certainly be missed. “Thank you so much.” You flashed him a sincere smile.
“It was nothing, really.” He chuckled at your overreaction, in no position to admit out loud he was loving to be the cause of your sudden euphoria. Deep down he was fighting the urge to blush, fluster before you.
“How can I properly thank you for saving my day?” You joked with a grin, thrilled with the small victory as you took your papers in hand.
Your demeanor had lightened, and you couldn't quite tell if it was due to the relief of the printer working again or Jake's presence beside you. Either way, you felt a pleasant warmth spreading in your chest.
However, to receive Jake’s silence, widened eyes and cheeks with a faint blush as a response caught you off guard, along with his sudden nervousness as he fidgeted with his fingers, as though he prepared himself during his whole life for that exact moment. 
“So, uh…” He began, voice shaky, fingers trailing its way towards his nape to scratch it while his eyes avoided yours. 
“Yeah?” You prompted, curiously waiting for his words.
“I've been waiting to tell you something. I–I know we have a policy about it, and you're the last person I’d expect to break it, but–”
“Oh, hey Y/N!”
You turned to see another colleague of yours approaching with his characteristic bright, enchanting smile, carrying a cup of coffee in his hand, a sharp gaze never leaving yours as he confidently brought his strong aura closer to you both. 
“Hi, Heeseung.” You greeted with a smile, oblivious to the subtle change in the atmosphere between them.
“Jake.”
“Heeseung.” Jake’s voice was dry when he replied and a thick silence lingered for a moment before Heeseung flashed you an adorable smile and walked away without any other words.
You barely noticed Jake's clenched jaw and fists, or how he seemed ready to throw punches right in front of you if Heeseung didn’t return to his desk quickly.
“So you were saying..?” You asked, innocently drawing your attention back to Jake’s and consequently bringing his own towards you; his puppy eyes softened when they landed on your pretty features.
Jake’s heart immediately faltered a ton of beats as if he was about to collapse; having you looking at him so attentively was making his circuits crash, sending his brain into overdrive. 
All the courage he reunited to confess to you vanished in a snap.
“It was nothing, don't worry about it!” He forced his best cheerful smile. “You seem to have a lot to do! Fighting, Y/N!”
You giggled at his choice of terms, tapping on his shoulder slightly before you started to head your way back to your office room. 
“Thank you again, Jake.”
You offered him another smile, filled with genuine gratitude since he truly helped your day not to fall in shambles. And apparently, not only by helping your beef with the printer. 
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On the other hand, Jake’s day just started to collapse. 
He headed back to his desk in the space he shared with a few co-workers and Lee Heeseung, one of the best employees the company had ever had since they started. The problem solving efficiency increased enormously during his time working there, and Jake had a not-so-soft spot for him in his heart. Jake viewed Heeseung as one of his greatest rivals. Not exactly in a mean way, but as a manner to motivate his improvement and outsmart himself each day, ensuring that his presence was felt just as strongly as Heeseung’s.
In Jake’s eyes, Heeseung had an annoying vibe, overconfident with his work and himself, although he knew Heeseung wasn’t an asshole at all. Deep down, Jake harbored a certain envy of how easily Heeseung seemed to connect with people; his charisma shone within every word, his confidence made others feel secure – and, depending on the context, a bit shy.
On that day, nevertheless, a nagging doubt about his co-worker motives during their earlier interaction was swelling in his chest. If he stayed quiet, not confronting Heeseung about it, he wouldn’t be able to focus on doing his job adequately.
“Ok, so what was that about?” Jake finally asked with a mild peeved voice. 
“What was what ab–”
“Don't.” Jake's fierce eyes shot Heeseung a warning while tilting his head. “Don't mess around. Just spill it out.”
Heeseung quirked an eyebrow in amusement after seeing the so said calm guy acting a bit off. 
“I was saving your ass.” Heeseung replied, a casual grin on his face as if he had just shared the most mundane, obvious fact.
Jake rolled his eyes, sighing and definitely not buying the nonchalance while turning his rolling chair towards Heeseung.
“And how exactly my ass needs to be saved, Heeseung?” he pressed, his voice low and serious with an elbow propped on the edge of his table.
“You seemed to be in trouble.” Heeseung shot back immediately, shrugging, avoiding Jake’s intense gaze.
Heeseung wasn't too open about his reasons because, honestly, he was still unsure of what had compelled him to interfere in the conversation, since you seemed to be beaming with happiness and Jake was just his normal, awkward self talking to you.
Something itched at the back of his confused thoughts, so he had to take action.
“I wasn’t.” Jake murmured, his jaw clenched as he turned back to his computer, fingers furiously typing on his keyboard. “Next time, ask beforehand if I really need your savior's help.” He said mockingly, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I was just about to confess and you totally screwed up my chances.”
Heeseung blinked a few times, immediately freezing in his seat, utterly flabbergasted. He had a faint, minor suspicion hinting that Jake was onto something he couldn't quite grasp. But this? This was the last thing he expected at all.
Heeseung had to bite back his own sharp and far from nice words in order to maintain a good relationship with Jake – and, consequently, with you.
“I mean, we have policies and rules...” Heeseung managed to say in return, ignoring the bittersweet taste on his tongue going all the way down his throat to sit uncomfortably in his chest, swallowing it whole in a suffocating way.
“I know about them.” Jake smirked, leaning on his chair with a cocky, relaxed demeanor as he side eyed Heeseung. “And I found a loophole in it.” 
Now Heeseung's curiosity was piqued, heart racing fast as he leaned closer. “Oh, really? And how's that?” 
Jake chuckled, shooting Heeseung a skeptical look. "No way I'm telling you, man."
Panic filled Heeseung’s vein, a cold feeling spreading within his chest as the realization hit. He could lose the chance of his lifetime; it felt like you were already fading away from his touch without even giving him the chance to make a move. The new information that Jake and he shared a common interest in you and Jake seeming to have an advantage on his game triggered his worst side. 
For the purpose of keeping on the war’s lead – the war that just got instaurated by his fantasy –, he decided to play dirty.
“If you don't, I'm gonna snitch on you.”
Now it was time for Jake to paralyze in his tracks, just to let out a soft laugh before saying. “You would not…” Jake squinted his eyes in disbelief.
After reading Heeseung’s expression, Jake realized he wasn’t bluffing. The slight raise of Heeseung's eyebrows, coupled with a hint of challenge and his annoying grin demonstrated it clearly.
“Try me,” Heeseung struggled a bit to maintain his confident facade, the slight tremor in his voice betrayed the underlying tension. 
But Heeseung had an advantage that outshone Jake's, one that could potentially lead Jake to be in a very unfortunate position, and if that meant Heeseung getting his chances with you, he would do anything to keep the fight. 
Jake leaned back further, the playful smirk fading as he studied Heeseung with a calculating gaze.
“Seriously, you’d snitch over this?” Jake muttered in disbelief, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn’t entirely convinced Heeseung would go that far, but his colleague's persistence was throwing him off. And for what? To steal his chances with you just for fun? Unless…
“If it gives me a fair shot, yeah.” Heeseung’s grin widened, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
He was pretty chill about it, after all, you always seemed unattainable to anyone around you. With an unmatched beauty, an assertive mindset, and a captivating yet humorous personality – when necessary –, not to mention how understanding you were. 
Everyone's dream.
And until that day that’s how Heeseung had you, only in dreams. But now reality had knocked on his door, and it knocked close. He knew there was competition, a strong one. And much to Jake's misfortune, Heeseung was highly competitive.
There was a brief pause for quite long, painful seconds. Jake’s frown deepened as he finally understood Heeseung’s motives, clarification hitting instantly. They were on the same page.
Although it sent his brain into malfunction, especially because he feared Heeseung’s would be winning – just like he always did, the fucking annoying ace of the company –, Jake kept on the confident behavior, not showing his hesitation right in front of his, now unspokenbly declared, enemy.
He let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “You really think you stand a chance?”
Heeseung’s expression faltered for just a second, but he quickly masked it.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “But I won’t let you get ahead without a fight. A proper one.”
A heavy silence settled between them again, Jake processing Heeseung’s words, the tension palpable as both of them knew they were walking on dangerous ground. It was the company field with you being the final prize.
And right at that point, neither of them cared that much about their reputation within the workers if it led to having you at the end of the day.
“Alright then, let’s see who wins this.” Jake’s voice filled the dead air.
Heeseung blinked, momentarily taken aback by Jake’s sudden shift in tone, overconfident with his decision. However, he nodded and shook Jake’s hand in a wordless deal.
“Let's see who wins this.”
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A gentle knock on the door interrupted your focus as you organized your table for the day, still standing up.
It was common sense within your employees that if you didn't answer right away, they were not supposed to open it until you reached out yourself. However, the chaotic pile of papers that had overtaken your workspace had momentarily distracted you, and you were taking your sweet time organizing it all.
Just as you were about to call out, the door creaked open cautiously, and a familiar pair of eyes peeked inside.
“Hey.” Heeseung greeted you with a tender smile. “Mind if I come in?”
Without fully drifting your gaze away from the documents on your table, frowning as you found yet another mistakenly placed in between your sheets, you gave a brief nod.
“Sure.” 
As Heeseung approached, a bit hesitant, you didn’t give him time to say a word as you shove the paper on his face. “That’s definitely not mine.”
Your deadpan expression was enough to make anyone sweat, and you knew it well – sometimes using it to your benefit purely for fun, especially with someone like Heeseung, who was susceptible to falling for it easily. 
Heeseung momentarily blinked, stunned, before tilting his head to the side, uncertain. “I’m… Sorry..?”
You couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped, enjoying his reaction far too much; his confused, scared bambi eyes widening with the fear of a reprimand. You shook your head, biting back your smile while lifting one eyebrow.
“Relax. It’s not your fault.” 
You saw Heeseung’s shoulders loosening visibly, and he released a long breath he didn’t notice he was holding, relief washing over his body.
Behind his easygoing, self-reliant and confident persona, there was a huge layer of self-doubt blended with the concern of letting the company down – letting you down. He carried the weight of wanting to be perfect at his job, especially for you. He was proud to admit he barely made any mistakes during his years working there, let alone to incorrectly put important papers in wrong places.
“So, what brings you here?” You finally gave Heeseung your full attention, leaning one hip against the desk, watching him with curious eyes.
Heeseung cleared his throat before setting down a steaming cup on the wooden surface. “Thought you could use this.” He offered with an awkward grin. “A coffee for my favorite manager.”
You quirked an eyebrow, suspicious over his sudden decision. Of course you were aware of Heeseung’s kindness towards you, always trying to ease your overall work under his possibilities with his teasing blended with his gentlemanliness. However, something felt strangely off, different, weird even, and you struggled to pinpoint exactly what it was.
Maybe it was the way his two orbs seemed to drown you in a pool of affection and attention, almost expecting something in return.
“Oh, yeah?” You picked the coffee nonetheless, taking a sip and almost closing your eyes as the sweetness of it melted in your palatar. “And what’s the catch?” You smirked as you propped your free hand on the table, supporting your weight in it, eyes never leaving Heeseung’s sudden flustered self.
“No catch!” He urged to say, raising both hands in defense, bambi eyes widened more as if he just got caught in a compromising situation. You tilted your head, not buying it. “I swear,” he chuckled awkwardly, feeling small under your intense staring. “I just thought it could be a good idea. You’re fighting against demons with this desk today.” He pointed out to the said space and you actually laughed out loud at his words, painfully agreeing with them because it was your reality that day.
You studied Heeseung for a moment longer, trying to read his underlying true intentions. In doing so, you couldn’t help but observe his charming features.
His impeccably styled hair revealing a small portion of his forehead, enough to showcase his adorable mole, became a signature aspect of his daily appearance. His clothes were always neat, seamlessly placed and yet stylish. His lips seemed to be constantly nibbled or maybe he had some chapstick on, because it had the color of cherries, giving it an inviting glimmering aspect. 
He exuded a natural flirty aura that effortlessly drew people in, especially those he had a genuine interest in – you heard some of his stories before, when you weren’t in your current position. For some inexplicable reason, you found yourself wondering briefly what it would be like to be on the receiving end of his playful and certainly captivating advances.
“Thanks, Heeseung. I appreciate it." Your voice softened, and you gestured to the chaotic desk. "But next time, maybe help me with this instead of just getting me coffee."
Heeseung laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Noted.” Then he shifted on his feet, clearly trying to maintain his cool, but the slight fidget in his hand suggested something else. “Just wanted to make sure you’re taken care of. You know? You’re the head of our department.” He nodded to himself, letting his genuine, but appealing words come out of his mouth spontaneously. 
“Thank you again.” You smiled, feeling his gratitude, still not really accepting it as a normal behavior. 
You kept on watching him nervously acting out in front of you, so obviously apprehensive, however, fighting the pressure of dropping down his mask. You almost laughed at it, endeared by how entertained it was to be on the viewer’s side. 
“But really. You’re doing fine. And we all need you to keep on being fi– Doing! Doing fine.” Heeseung fumbled in between his speech, stuttering because he wasn’t expecting you to go full silent-mode out of nowhere, leaving him with his messy, and in love, brain, enough to make him act awkward.
You let out a small chuckle, the way Heeseung was being so out of his normal was so funny to your eyes, never in your life you thought of seeing him in such a manner.
Then you stood up only to gently guide Heeseung towards the door, grabbing the handle to signal it was time for him to leave your office. Somehow you had a feeling that if you let him, Heeseung would keep on talking and complimenting you for hours. 
“Ok, now you're just flattering me for no reason. Go back to your work.” You softly pushed his back, still smiling. 
“You know me too well,” he smirked and then threw you a cute wink before walking away, now apparently back to his regular demeanor, leaving you alone in the midst of your chaos – both in the room and in your mind.
Before you closed the door, the phantom of your smile lingering on your lips still, you heard someone calling your name.
“Oh, Y/N! I was looking for you.” 
Jake met Heeseung in the middle of the hallway. His subtle, yet triumphant smile radiated a confidence that triggered Jake’s desperation, so he had to come up with a quick plan to gain some extra points with you and, maybe, with luck, surpass Heeseung. 
Your eyes tracked Jake’s motions as he approached you, looking flustered with papers messily stacked in his grasp, his glasses unevenly on his face as though he had been in a race against time. He had a small pout decorating his plump lips, and his hair was a mess as well, strands poking out everywhere. Even so, he looked cute.
Cute?
“What's all that?” You nodded to his papers, sipping on your hot coffee.
Then you locked your gaze with his. Jake gave you a soft smile, as though he saw a cute puppy and you tilted your head with curiosity, waiting for his response.
“Uh.. I went over our latest reports,” he started as he clumsily handed you one of the documents, your fingers subtly brushing against the other’s in the process – while you barely noticed it, Jake winced, a jolt of ecstasy rushing over his body by your simple touch. “And there were a bunch of errors. I corrected them…”
You slowly blinked, eyebrows furrowing, utterly surprised by Jake's decision of reviewing the reports, and not enough, giving it the proper adjustment as you meticulously re-read the paragraph he pointed out.
“I'm sorry.” He said quietly after your silence. “You seem to have a lot to do and I know you'll have to revise it all again.”
“Jake.” You called out, a serious, focused expression still settled on your face. Jake straightened his posture, ready for the reprimand he was sure you would give him, already thinking about the hours he would spend overthinking it. However, you were far from being mad, so you softened your eyes after finishing reading, smiling and looking back at him. “Come in.”
Jake had dumbfounded eyes shooting your back when you turned on your heels after inviting him to your office, his foot glued on the ground unabling his movements. Nonetheless, the feeling of a small victory tasted addicting, and now he yearned for more. 
Just before fully stepping into your workspace after calming down his racing excited heart, he glanced over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Heeseung giving him a death stare. 
Jake simply smiled coyly, as if he had won the round of a game he never intended to lose, although his adversary offered a strong amount of threatening.
Heeseung darkened eyes watched Jake’s fading away after closing the door, poking his inner cheek with his tongue with his breath hitching. Right when he found the perfect opportunity to prove he would be a great boyfriend by looking out for you, Jake stepped in, robbing him of the chance to be the only one in your thoughts.
Inside the room, you now sat on your chair while Jake kept on standing after putting the pile of papers on your desk. He was trying to suppress the adrenaline bubbling inside his heart, the thump-thump almost dizzying echoing inside his head, and the fact that your office was permeated with your scent did nothing to help to decrease the intoxicating, entrancing feeling. 
“Sit down, don’t be awkward.” You said nonchalantly, yet comforting, pointing to the chair in front of your desk without necessarily looking away from the words you were reading rigorously.
“Sorry.” He chuckled nervously, quickly sitting down as his fingers twitched on his lap, fidgeting out of tension.
The lack of acknowledgment about what your reaction would be was aching in his every pore; biting the sensitive flesh of his lips wasn’t enough anymore, so he glanced up at you, stealing a rapid moment to admire the way you were scanning the reports. Your mild concentrated frown and how your hair cascaded down your face almost made him melt on spot. 
The silence wasn’t comfortable at all, not hostile either – even so he was afraid of getting scolded.
“So, what made you decide to do this?” You finally spoke, your words aiming for one simple answer, nevertheless, your tender and still steady tone made Jake shift on his seat, breath getting caught on his throat. 
“I just thought I could help you,” he answered, a bit quieter than his regular self. “I–I know you have a lot to do lately, and I always revise our main reports.” He explained, not watching you anymore because you lifted your eyes to give him your full attention; your gaze weightening on him. “And I noticed those errors. Didn’t think it would hurt to re-make those parts based on your pattern of writing.”
You nodded softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Jake was adorable with his cheeks painted in slight blush, fixing his glasses on his nose’s bridge, running away from your staring, unable to sustain eye contact. He was being his normal self, however, just like with Heeseung, something felt off. 
“That’s really considerate.” You said, tilting your head slightly to the side as you added. “I really appreciate your effort, Jake. But I’d like to be aware of the changes before you make them. Okay?” 
Jake eagerly agreed, nodding at your soothing words. He was relieved to hear them instead of harsher ones, even though there was no bigger reason to fear, after all, your reputation for handling things with grace and kindness mingled with your astute assertiveness was well-known.
You had a way of giving feedback that felt constructive, always leading with gratitude before addressing something more incisive, and your scoldings were far from being sharp like a retaliation and more striving for lightening the load for everyone involved, without leaving room for big mistakes.
But at that moment Jake held a very intimate, personal secret, and your sharp eyes seemed to read his every thought, so he expected the worst.
“So, what exactly did you change in the report?” you asked, leaning slightly forward in your chair, genuine curiosity lighting up your eyes.
Jake swallowed, feeling a familiar nervousness creep up, though it was softened by the warmth of your kind eyes. He smiled and tried to quietly shake off the warmth spreading on his cheeks before explaining every line he had modified and the reasoning behind it, his typical clever outstanding trait showing off within every word that flew from his mouth, walking confidently on the ground he built himself in.
As you nodded along, due to the small proximity, you also silently struggled to maintain your focus on what Jake was verbalizing instead of his refreshing perfume and his gorgeous, slender fingers, to which traced the paper as he kept on talking. Not to mention the motion of his lips, how his tongue would wet the flesh of it every once and awhile.
“You did a good job, Jake.” You said at the end of his analysis, lifting your eyes to meet his. A subtle smile adorned your mouth, and Jake felt a surge of pride bloom in his chest.
He could shamelessly admit – not to you, though – he was devoted to hearing your every praise. There was no aim to his work other than receive your compliments about him doing good. Being good for you was enough to pay his bills, he would even dare to say.
And of course that had nothing to do with his praise kink, buried in the depths of his mind. 
“Thank you.” Jake mumbled shyly, feeling the heat lingering on his cheeks, a light ton of red tinting them. “I really like being noted by you.” As soon as his words blurted out of his mouth, he rushed to backtrack himself with widened eyes. “I mean– I appreciate being recognized for my hard work. By any superior, of course.”
You leaned back on your chair, crossing your arms as you raised an eyebrow, studying Jake’s demeanor shamelessly – his nervous stuttering, his choice of words, his sudden overwork. Going through documents already approved for submission was nothing but a hellish task, nevertheless Jake seemed to be willing to give you that break without you asking for it.
Something odd was happening. It was way out of your regular routine, flooded with awkward situations and words that you weren’t sure you were supposed to overhear. And coming from two different people.
Another knock on your door interrupted your session of trying to read Jake’s hidden intentions, just like you did before with Heeseung. And as if your thought had summoned the said man, he appeared at the entrance after you allowed him to enter.
“I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” Heeseung asked innocently, his eyes darting briefly from you to Jake, acknowledging his presence – the thought of you and Jake being alone in a room weighed in his chest since the moment he saw his colleague entering your office, and increased with every heartbeat.
Heeseung couldn’t bear the idea of Jake claiming a larger area of their shared battlefield, and his only remaining option was to figure out methods to interfere in Jake’s progress.
Jake didn’t buy Heeseung’s feigned naivety, narrowing his eyes in disbelief without making it noticeable to you. It was a subtle exchange, a fleeting glance that only Heeseung was able to catch as he swallowed hard to suppress the pressing need to spill the truth beneath their actions.
“Seems like my office is the party room today,” you joked lightly, shaking your head. “You didn’t. I just finished with Jake.” 
Unaware of the silent tension unfolding between the two men, you draw your attention back to your laptop, quickly logging into your work apps as if the world wasn’t burning with unspoken feelings right before you. Yet, the awkward silence persisted, prompting you to glance up at Heeseung again, who seemed to be deep in thought.
He faltered for a second before realizing he was the one in the spotlight, snapping out of torturing thoughts, rapidly regaining his composure. 
“I, uh… I just wanted to remind you that your meeting is in less than an hour,” Heeseung’s voice was steady, but the quickening beat of his heart betrayed his nerves, especially with his brand new makeshift excuse. “I was wondering if you want me to set the room for it. I’m quite chilling with my work today.”
“I can help!” Jake was quick to interject, almost lifting his hand as if he was a middle schooler, looking at you with gleaming orbs filled with expectation.
Your inquisitive eyes flickered between Jake and Heeseung, your serious facade sharpening as you sensed the shift in the air. It made them both shiver in place, sharing a secret wordless connection. 
It was almost undeniable that the whole situation was affecting you in an unknown way.
You were aware of your position and fought hard for it – being assertive and resolving conflicts was your greatest work quality. Separating work from personal matters was also a point you vigorously defended and explained to many of your colleagues, especially since being the target of their flirtations was on your list as well.
Despite your efforts to maintain those things rewinding on your mind as a reminder, the way both Heeseung and Jake were acting sounded more than just strange to you – it was intriguing.
You felt an almost unbearable desire to investigate further what was the motive behind their sudden offers for help and the respective compliments that came with it.
At the same time, you wondered if there were layers of the situation you weren’t quite seeing correctly, having just one piece of the ongoing puzzle so far. So you decided to let it be for now.
“What about you both help each other?” You offered a solution while smiling, indirectly using it as a method to gather more explicit information. “I’m sure you can work well together, right?” You tilted your head with a challenging voice, to which didn’t go unnoticed by either of them.
“Sure.” Heeseung smiled in agreement, and you straightaway noticed he was masking his real reaction.
“Sounds amazing,” Jake, on the other hand, was obvious with his discontent, sounding explicitly unhappy and sarcastic. 
Either way, you opted to ignore it and move on with your work as soon as they left your office. It was just the morning and you had a lot to catch up with.
And besides your efforts, you failed to catch the palpable tension between Heeseung and Jake. 
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Your following days seemed ordinary enough, until Jake or Heeseung – eventually, both – crossed your path.
They shared a constant odd behavior around you, whether proposing countless solutions to existent and mostly nonexistent problems, demonstrating an exaggerated level of proactivity, or complimenting your appearance, emphasizing details that surely hadn’t changed overnight – like the time when Heeseung asked if you had trimmed the ends of your hair, as if he was trying to impress you with his incredible observation skills.
At times, you were astonished by their creative ability to come up with lame excuses just to approach you, many of which were completely inconvenient and more of a distraction than a help.
You couldn’t help but wonder what triggered this new shift in their attitudes. What has switched inside their brains to overwork themselves just to make their presence noticeable?
Even your superior questioned about the employees' demeanors under your management, overdoing tasks and spending more time in the company than normal. You struggled to wash it off, because you also had no proper answer to that question.
Besides the chaos they implemented within their constant battle for something you quite couldn’t pinpoint precisely, it was somewhat adorable their attempts to get your attention. Also, you wouldn’t deny that the small perks they provided – like free coffee and lunch nearly every day – were more than welcome, allowing you to buy new decorations to your house, for instance.
Your first theory was that both Heeseung and Jake were working together to get a raise. But you quickly discharged it when you realized they were fighting against each other, not for each other. So for now, your main theory was they were still trying to win a raise, flattering you personally as a way to get it as if you held the key for their promotion as their manager.
Although excessive, they always respected your personal boundaries, giving your space when you demanded it. They quickly understood your disapproving looks whenever they crossed the professional line as well, avoiding furthermore conflicting situations in the workspace. 
However, even with their sweet personalities and kind, heartfelt gestures, the constant tension, battelish vibe they carried alongside each other was getting on your nerves to some extent. Especially because you were growing attached to some of their behaviors and constant presence.
While Jake would quietly offer assistance with your workload, subtly proving his reliability and cleverness to found solutions with ease, following you around like a lost puppy, Heeseung would choose a different approach, very likely to his personality, showering you with compliments and attempting to charm you with smaller favors, focusing more on your overall health and in making you a bit flustered.
You got caught in a dilemma. 
Jake and Heeseung began to build a soft spot in your heart, making it hard to ignore your pulse quickening in certain moments, like when Heeseung bought you some snacks because you skipped your lunch hour, showing his concern within a flatter – “A beautiful woman like you can’t go too longer without some proper food”. Or how Jake’s eyes brightened while you explained a new easy method to do spreadsheets, giving you his full attention, hyping you and adding to your idea – “You’re brilliant! And if we add this other option as well… Wow. How do you manage to be amazing like this?”
How Heeseung would rush over the entire floor just because you requested, jokingly, a coffee, even with him being loaded with work – “Can’t never let my favorite manager down, yeah?”. Or when Jake's fierce senses quickly noticed your struggle with a presentation and leaned over to offer you support and an alternative suggestion – “You’re doing great, Y/N. If you don’t feel like it, you can try explaining the third part, the one we talked about before.” 
And the bolder, touchy ones; when Heeseung wiped the corner of your mouth because it was stained with sauce, when Jake fixed a strand of your hair that was misplaced, when Heeseung’s arms involved your shoulders in a subtle, comforting hug after a meeting with an inconvenient client, when Jake scooched closer while sitting next to you during a workshop-lecture, his lips almost touching your ear as he whispered something about the topic. 
Other than all of that, you came to notice how Heeseung’s eyes radiated with a brighter glow and how his lips curved into a gentle, gorgeous smile every time you were speaking, as if he was daydreaming. And also how often Jake would turn into a fumbling mess, blushing and biting back a grin every time you complimented him, and eventually just the fleet meeting of your eyes became enough to send him into that flustered and adorable demeanor, your heart faltering some beats with the sight.
You were feeling over appreciated, and it was concerning, mainly because you were enjoying it. 
Your eyes started to drift briefly, but frequently to their lips when they were the ones talking instead of listening to their words. A knot on your stomach would form as you anticipated their presence in your office every day, sometimes even placing internal bets on who would be the first to knock on your door. And there were times where you found yourself nervously adjusting your hair or smoothing out your clothes before they walked in, hoping they would notice.
You expected your workflow to feel enjoyable not because you liked your job, but because at the end of the day, Heeseung and Jake’s frequent proximity would ignite a brand new nuance of sentiments inside your chest towards them – an excitement, the usual anticipation, some eagerness. 
Nonetheless, despite their courteous behavior and the subtle change in the air whenever they were near, there was something tingling, lingering in the back of your mind.
It became increasingly obvious with every interaction that Jake and Heeseung shared an unspoken rivalry, and if you had to guess, you were the prize they were competing for – the idea itself was enough to send shivers down your spine, especially since it left you facing an impossible choice, one you couldn't imagine yourself ever having to make.
Whenever Jake came into your office to discuss work, Heeseung would conveniently show up moments later, knocking on your door with an offer of assistance.
If Heeseung sat with you during lunch, Jake would immediately find a seat at the same table, causing the air to grow thick with tension.
They were constantly interrupting any moment that had the potential to evolve into something deeper, leaving you frustrated, as if you were only getting fleeting glimpses of who they truly were when the other wasn’t around.
To think like that – hoping that your interactions with them would develop into something more – wasn’t professional. It didn’t fit right to fantasize about the possibilities beyond a simple work dynamic, no matter how much the tension made you feel otherwise.
You were a manager, their manager. With a lot of responsibilities; Heeseung and Jake being one of them. Still you were already far intrigued and involved with your feelings in this triangle, and to just forget it and act like nothing was happening slowly became an impossible mission.
“This isn’t right.” You murmured, frowning at the vending machine that decided not to give you your snacks. Your phrase, however, wasn't only about it. “Come on…” You rolled your eyes, impatience swelling in you.
“Sometimes you just have to punch it.” 
You almost jumped in shock with the sudden presence of your fellow manager and friend, Sunghoon, carrying his usual cup of steaming coffee, wearing his typical full suit and showing you an adorable smile.
You chuckled at his solution, “I don’t feel like punching a vending machine today.”
“You look angry, though.” He quirked an eyebrow at you, casually sipping on his coffee. “It could help.”
You wetted your lips before answering. “Yeah, kinda,” you shrugged. “But I don’t think punching a vending machine would help my angryness at all.” You shot back with a cynical smile.
Sunghoon laughed with you before approaching the machine and analyzing it. “Let me help you then.” 
He did two or three taps on the side of it and within seconds it threw out the snacks you had selected before. You glanced in disbelief at him, mouth agape as you tilted your head and grabbed your food.
“What are you? A charmer of vending machines?” You asked with amused eyes, smiling bright before ripping open the cookie package, eating one and offering it to your friend.
“Definitely not,” Sunghoon also curved his lips into a grin, taking one of the cookies and then leaning closer while fauxing a flirty gaze. “But I would love to charm you into a project of mine.” His eyes were glazed on yours, taking in how bright they shone as the excitement bubbled inside your chest when you heard his proposition. “Not all of you, because I know you already have a lot to do.” He added, offering comfort and understandment. “But I think your method could help my supervisors and their respectives team leaders to do a better job.”
“And by my method you say my incredible way of dealing with people or just the new thing I developed with my incredible, amazing, wonderful supervisors?” You wiggled your eyebrows, teasingly, with a mischievous smile and nudging his shoulder playfully.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes and put on a smirk on his lips as he straightened his posture. “Whatever.” He chuckled. “Send me a text if you’re down for our date,” he said, his tone teasing as he lifted his cup of coffee and an eyebrow, starting to slowly walk backwards toward the elevator.
You widened your eyes, glancing around to see if anyone overheard your conversation, embarrassment washing over you and going straight to your cheeks, especially after the last remark.
You slapped Sunghoon’s chest as you contained a laugh, giving a last feigned disapproving look while shaking your head in disbelief. A quiet snort came out of your throat before you made your way back to your office.
Your relationship with Sunghoon was anything but new. You both entered the company at the same month, and you practically leveled up together – on your last promotion, you became a manager just days before him.
So far, you had shared a solid friendship that extended beyond the office, even if your growing responsibilities had limited the hangouts you used to enjoy between spreadsheets and meetings. Those carefree moments had become rare as the workload piled up, so the opportunity to work together with Sunghoon thrilled you.
Just the thought of the brainstorming sessions filled with laughter and playful jokes, a perfect blend of professionalism and friendship, sparked your excitement at most.
Many assumed that your relationship was more than a simple friendship, and Sunghoon's shameless flirting while using working terms didn't help at all. In fact, he had a boyfriend, and the reason you two constantly flirted was purely for fun and to stir up others' curiosity and laugh about it afterwards. 
On the other side of the floor, meticulously dodging from your sharpened gaze, Heeseung watched the bold interaction between you and Sunghoon unfolding. He had narrowed eyes and head slightly tilted as he tried to eavesdrop on your conversation. He got himself wondering why were you laughing and smiling so much, with an excessive amount of unnecessary touches and flirty eyes. 
“We should unite forces.” 
Heeseung nearly jumped or had a heart attack – or both – as Jake appeared out of nowhere beside him, whispering closely in his ear. He looked like a deer that had just been caught doing something wrong, with widened eyes and lips parted.
“Fuck off, Jake.” Heeseung dramatically placed a hand on his chest, as though to calm down his racing pulse, eliciting a genuine chuckle from Jake in response. “And what do you mean by that, huh?” Heeseung frowned, eyes flicking between Jake and you as you walked away.
“I don’t know.” Jake sighed deeply, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks while watching you disappear behind your office door, his head angling to the side to keep track of your movements until you were out of sight.
“So you have an idea, but not a plan?” Heeseung asked while side eyeing Jake, who was now biting his lip, clearly trying to swallow down the bittersweet taste on his tongue. 
And Heeseung wasn’t too different; when he heard people saying jealousy is a disease, he didn't think it would make his heart shrink and ache that much. 
“Pretty much, yeah.” Jake nodded with a pout, starting to walk towards his desk, with Heeseung trailing behind him. “I just don’t think Sunghoon is a good match, y’know?” He remarked, trying to sound casual about it, but his words felt like a bullet going straight to Heeseung’s gut, curving its way back to hit Jake’s chest.
“Yeah,” Heeseung agreed, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “He lacks a lot of things.” He added with a dry, nearly mean tone.
“Not in looks though.” Jake pinpointed, earning another judgmental side eye from Heeseung. “What? He’s good looking.” He said nonchalantly with a shrug. “I have eyes. I can notice when a guy looks good.”
“Whatever you say, nerd,” Heeseung voiced with an unfazed chuckle.
Jake rolled his eyes in annoyance, and even with them glued on the screen in front of him, numbers and words on display for him to analyze, his mind was long gone far away from the office.
“But listen,” he continued after seconds in silence seeking for the right way to verbalize his thoughts. “Don’t you feel that sometimes we’re kinda… Pushing her away instead of the other way around?”
Jake’s question hung in the air for brief seconds as Heeseung tilted his head, carefully contemplating it. Jake watched his colleague's face falter in realization. 
You seemed mad and somehow frustrated whenever they interrupted you, massaging your temples while closing your eyes, taking deep and long breaths, playing with your lips using your tongue and teeth… As if you were trying to contain yourself.
Not to mention that he started to draw disapproving stares from you during meetings or at times when he interfered with your workflow attempting to help. And Jake's side wasn’t different either.
“Yeah.” Heeseung finally nodded after concluding his chain of thoughts. “None of this would be an issue if you stepped aside, you know? I could take care of it.” He teased, gazing at Jake with a cocky expression.
“No way in hell, man.” Jake scoffed with a laugh, but then his facade softened, his feelings for you overwhelming his chest. “I only want what's best for her.”
Heeseung flashed Jake with an understanding glance, blended with seriousness and a hint of affection, as if the new reminder of his real main objective littered his whole world.
You littered his whole world.
And after all, to make you happy was the final goal.
“Agreed.” 
While in a brief pause, Jake and Heeseung reflected how deeply involved with their feelings for you they were, an unexpected, yet genuine connection maturing as they did so.
Work had become fun and enjoyable simply because you were there, being an important part of their routine. Your nuance of smiles – the bright ones, the skeptical ones, the awkward ones –, your subtle jokes and lowkey acid humor that eased the atmosphere, your serious and confident decisions, your confused grimaces whenever someone said something absurd, your habit of biting your lip and furrowing your eyebrows while absorbed in concentration.
They drank in every single detail of you, falling more and more in love, as if you were the sun, and they were mere planets gravitating in your orbit, waiting, fighting for your attention, for your decision.
Jake sighed, lowering his eyes while remembering all the moments he made you laugh with his silly and awkward jokes due to his nervousness, stumbling into his own words before your beautiful presence.
Heeseung pursed his lips together, nearly feeling the phantom of the slight bumps of your shoulders when you both sat next to each other, your body leaning just enough to whisper something important in his ear.
“We both want what’s the best for her…” Jake muttered under his breath. Heeseung glanced quickly at him, who immediately reciprocated – a silent dialogue being transmitted in their gaze.
Then they both said simultaneously, a shared realization hanging in the air.
“That’s why you should leave her to me.”
“And I am the best for her."
Apparently their alliance would take longer than anticipated.
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After everyone settled into their chairs, you took a deep breath and stood at the head of the table, commanding attention. Your gaze swept across the room before you spoke, your voice firm and steady.
“So, our meeting today is crucial. These clients are incredibly high maintenance, and they chose our company to lead their main projects. I need everyone to be extra focused and serious, no slip-ups,” you emphasized, keeping on drifting your eyes through your colleagues, pausing for effect. “I expect nothing but professionalism.”
Your words hung in the air, and while the room nodded in agreement, both Heeseung and Jake had their minds far from there.
They were seated across from each other, however, both sets of eyes softly and attentively tracked your every move, as if the project was about you and you only.
Jake’s focus wasn’t on the blueprint details, let alone on the company's reputation; it was on the way your hair cascaded over your shoulder as you turned your head slightly, or the confidence you radiated as you spoke, so naturally drawing people in. Your voice was as soft as a cloud, and still precise with your every word. 
It was hard to remember the last time he had paid that much attention to a meeting, and there he was, mesmerized not by the content, but solely and exclusively by you. His heartbeat raced with every second, almost echoing louder than anything in the room.
Across the table, Heeseung was no different.
His usual composed demeanor during meetings faltered just enough to make his hands sweat nervously. He was sure your makeup looked extra perfectly placed that day. Every time you said something, his gaze flickered to the slight upward curl of your plump, soft colored lips, or how your jaw clenched with seriousness, together with your sharp, incisive eyes and slight frown, adding to your charm. You were shining on your element, controlling the whole room with your assertiveness and, for him personally, attractive demeanor. 
Both of them were caught in similar states – wondering what it would be like if your eyes were solely on them. Would they light up? Would your lips curve into an adorable smile? Would your head cock to the side as you paid deep attention to them?
The silly battle between Heeseung and Jake only grew stronger as the minutes passed; the previous talk had no purpose at all, besides light one’s own weight of being misinterpreted, proving their worthiness to you. 
As Heeseung leaned slightly forward, crossing his hands on the table’s surface, the shifting in his seat made his presence briefly more evident. Your eyes instantly darted towards his direction, catching his bambi-eyes fixed on you, wide and attentive. An almost instinctive smile crossed your lips after reading his expression that showed a perfect blend of genuine pride and a layer of lovestruck admiration.
For some reason, Heeseung quietly showing you support made your heartbeat steady, filling you with a warm sense of reassurance.
Jake clenched his fists under the table, his competitive side sparkling up after noticing your wordless interaction with his rival, flickering his gaze between the two of you. He pondered how he could stand out, and his whole body was stiff before he leaned back on his chair, relaxing, as he cleverly remembered the times you complained about the lack of sincere reactions or motions during meetings like those.
Again, just the movement was enough to catch your attention, since the rest of the room was completely still, deeply concentrated on your presentation.
As you approached your computer to pass the slide, you flashed Jake a quick recognition glance about his unspokenly intentions as well, smirking smally in gratitude before continuing with your script, feeling your breathing getting a little better, lighter. 
One thing you absolutely hated about those kinds of meetings was the participants’ rigid presence, the high level of responsibility tensed your nerves – unnecessarily, in your opinion.
You utterly understood the scenario’s nature, requiring a certain posture from you that you very much knew how to offer. But nothing stopped you from protesting every once and a while about the tension on your shoulders whenever you had to wear that facade. 
So you appreciated Heeseung and Jake’s effort in making your body loosen momentarily, carrying through with your words, and unfortunately oblivious to their real reasons. 
Of course Heeseung’s eyes registered the subtle exchange between you and Jake, automatically igniting his desire to reclaim your attention, as if your work was just an excuse, a battlefield to their competition.
His jaw clenched and his gaze sharpened when Jake shot a small scornful smirk at him, almost like he was showing off his brand new victory, taunting.
That simple gesture fueled Heeseung’s instinct to jump into action without much thinking, so he blurted out, intending exclusively to demonstrate to you how involved in the topic he was.
"And what about the user experience data? That’s going to be key for the next steps, right?"
You paused on your tracks, momentarily thrown off by Heeseung’s sudden, unexpected voice interrupting your thought process. Your eyes faltered in confusion for a brief moment before you opened your mouth to say something that didn’t come out right away, because in your mental script, that was the latest part of your presentation. 
Jake threw a shocked glance at Heeseung after noticing your slightly baffled and hesitant face, then he added, trying to settle down the ambiance to something less chaotic – his attempt failing as much as Heeseung’s, since it sounded like he was over-explaining your tactics into that project. 
“Right, but let’s not forget how crucial the user feedback is for improving our mechanics.”
Your eyes darted between the two men fighting against each other and then to your client, who had a disapproving grimace. 
As you took a deep breath to collect your thoughts, you could feel the tension in the air between them and the rest of your colleagues, including your client. The underlying competition became far from obvious at that point, you could practically hear them both thinking ‘Who would win your attention this time?’, and it was so annoying.
You hollowed your cheeks in order to calm down your frustration and angriness, sipping on your water before concentrating back on your presentation, determined to deliver your ideas without letting their stupidity get in your way. 
And a single serious glance was enough to shut Heeseung and Jake up for the rest of the meeting.
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“Close the door when you leave.” You instructed, gesturing to a colleague that was heading out the meeting room. You focused back on organizing the papers sprawled across the table. “Heeseung and Jake, you two stay.”
Your words filled the space as sharp as a dagger, leaving no room for argumentation – and neither of them would dare to challenge you in this moment, so they sat in silence, a palpable tension hanging in the air.
Half expecting your own anger to diminish and half aiming to toy with their overwhelming emotions, you didn't lift your gaze until you had quietly finished your notes, feeling the atmosphere shift as the door clicked shut. The silence was loud, you could almost hear the rapid beat of their hearts as they anxiously waited for your next move. 
Finally, you looked up, intercalating eye contact with both men. You wetted your lips before standing, placing your hands firmly on the table and leaning slightly forward, radiating an air of superiority. Your gaze deepened in reprimand, your jaw clenched and your breath was feeling heavier each second.
Jake avoided keeping looking at you for too long, distracting himself with a cup placed on the table instead. The room seemed to shrank around him, his air ways seemed to close little by little and breathing became a hard task. The weight of your piercing stare and your painful silence made him feel small, ashamed, inadequate. His chest tightened with a growing sense of nervousness and self-doubt.
Jake hated being scolded, it triggered a wave of reflections about his abilities and intelligence, intensifying some of his insecurities, and mostly, it amplified his longing for validation that only praises could fulfill. 
What Jake cherished most about you was that you never reprimanded without eventually offering a compliment, skillfully highlighting a person’s strengths while still putting them in their place; your words healed wounds instead of opening them.
But right now, that reassurance felt impossibly distant, leaving him to accept the weight of his fate resting in your hands.
Heeseung, on the other hand, harbored a hidden secret that was significantly distracting him at that moment. He was lowkey into receiving degradation to some extent, so he shifted uncomfortably on his chair as he watched you look down at him, because there was no way he could allow himself to get hard right at the moment. 
He swallowed hard, casually placing his trembling hands on his lap in order to try covering up any possible bulge surging on his crotch area, attempting to seem indifferent or just the normal amount of being affected by you.
“I think you both are intelligent enough to realize that your behavior today is inadmissible.” You started to say, voice laced with disappointment, firm. “This is not a playground. This is a workplace. A serious one.” You paused, straightening your posture before starting to walk slowly towards them. They choose to sit at the end of the table as if they were avoiding your close presence. “And I won’t, under any circumstance, accept this happening again in my leadership. Not again.”
As you passed by them, your perfume traveling along within each step, you analyzed how Jake and Heeseung were reacting extremely differently from each other.
Jake looked like a child being scolded by their parents, sinking into the chair with a small pout, his puppy eyes lowered in pure guilt. Whereas Heeseung was agitated, legs bouncing anxiously beneath the table, his fingers fidgeting his rings while his eyes seemed to be in an internal battle between whether to glaze on you or not.
“Am I making myself clear?” you asked, your voice cutting through the silence with authority, your hands now grabbing the back of Heeseung’s chair. He shivered.
Jake nodded quickly, still avoiding your sharp eyes.
Heeseung, however, didn’t respond. His chest rose and fell slowly, his breath visibly heavy as he tried to maintain composure. He wanted to act indifferent, to pretend that your words weren’t having such an intense effect on him, struggling to halter his mind from drifting far away from that context, but the tension in his body was far too obvious to ignore, especially when you positioned yourself behind him, noticing his shoulders stiffening.
His whole body has heated up.
You arched an eyebrow, leaning your body enough to scan his side profile with your head slightly tilted, your curiosity piquing stronger with the lack of response.
“Heeseung?” you prompted, voice dropping an octave.
For a split second, he hesitated before nodding as well, afraid of his voice coming out as a moan.
“Yes, I understand,” he finally said, voice soft, nearly wavering as he did so.
You straightened up again, now walking back to your initial position.
Jake and Heeseung shared a common and painful thought; you held the weight of their fate in your hands, having the power to release them from your management at any moment if that sounded right to you. Given their trail of missteps they had, it felt almost inevitable that your final word would be anything similar to that. 
The idea alone made their hearts ache in despair.
“I expected better from both of you. And I know you are capable of doing better.”
You casted a last warning stare and Jake fluttered his eyes shut instantly, waiting for the harshful words, the one that would tighten the knot in his stomach. Heeseung clenched his fists, gulping. You noticed both right away.
“Besides, I don’t have time to babysit your egos,” you paused again, this time just for an extra drama, because you would never dismiss their incredible skills due to simple and solvable mistakes like that.
Knowing your workers' behaviors, you had faith they would find a way out of their messy situation – and you expected yourself to do as well. Also, you couldn’t deny the sinking feeling in your chest of giving up on them, the flashing red lights screaming in your head about how deeply invested you grew into their beings, surrounding you like magnets.
No matter how tangled it appeared, your fondness for them remained. For both of them.
Yet, occupying a higher rank in the workplace meant you had to keep up the appearance of superiority and remind them of their positions, of their responsibilities. 
“Let alone time for your silly little games.”
Jake's face flushed an even deeper shade as the realization hit him. You were, now, fully aware of their competition.
However, a hint of relief began to wash over him as you wrapped up your speech, signaling that you weren't dismissing them away from your management.
“That’s all.”
Heeseung, on the other hand, couldn’t stop fidgeting. 
Although his heart raced now comfortably with your unspokenly reassurance about their destinations in the company, it was so fucking hard to concentrate in anything other than how hot you were right at that moment with your dominant stance.
Your sharp words and bossy demeanor talked down on him and all he could think was how desperately he needed you.
He shifted in his seat again, the discomfort in his pants growing with each agonizing second.
“You’re not kicking us out?” Jake was the one bold enough to voice out a nuance of their river of anxious thoughts, his slightly trembling voice filling the room.
Heeseung glanced briefly at his colleague and then to you, waiting for your answer.
“No, I’m not.”
“Thank you.” Jake urged, almost desperate as his shoulders loosened visibly. 
Even with your heart pounding in your chest at the thought of their main concern being only that, you maintained your firm demeanor.
“Don’t see it as a favor, ” you said. 
Your gaze was unwavering, challenging them to meet your seriousness. Heeseung swallowed hard, because he felt his dick literally pulsing as you glanced at him; his blushed cheeks intriguing your curiosity once again, since that kind of reaction was unusual from him.
Jake opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat.
“Sorry,” he finally managed, his eyes darting between you and Heeseung, who seemed to be struggling with his own internal conflict; his forehead was pure sweat at that point, and he questioned himself when the room turned into hell. 
“You’re good to go,” you concluded, watching as both men relaxed just a bit, the tension easing, but the air remained thick with unspoken feelings.
Your eyes tracked their steps until they reached the door, both sharing a glance before darting their eyes back to you. You offered a little nod of reassurance and they flashed back a small smile before closing the door behind them.
"Oh my god, you're nasty.” Jake whispered a little too loud as soon as they left the room, shooting Heeseung a look of mock mixed with repulse. “Did you really get turned on just because she got mad at us?"
Heeseung smirked, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Why? You didn't?" 
“No!” Jake shook his head, acting like Heeseung said the wrongest thing in the world. “That’s gross. You’re disgusting.”
“Please, don’t act like you don’t run to the bathroom every time she gives you a compliment.” Heeseung rolled his eyes, a cocky grin creeping onto his lips. Jake widened his eyes, stopping in his tracks.
“You’re seriously saying that?!” Jake exclaimed, incredulous, fixing his glasses on his nose’s bridge. 
“You’re always wagging your tail around Y/N, waiting for some praise like a little puppy, Jake,” Heeseung said, still smiling teasingly.
“Shut up, Heeseung.” Jake quickly glanced around to check if anyone was eavesdropping, shoving his colleague's shoulder. “You’re still disgusting, kiss-ass.”
Heeseung chuckled, unfazed. “Whatever.”
And then he headed to the bathroom, because this time, he was the one with some other problems to deal with. 
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The next day felt a bit odd. In every nuance possible.
Jake couldn't shake the weird sensation that you were actively avoiding him, as if his proximity was a reminder of his disappointment. He never wanted you to feel frustrated with his work, let alone with him personally. Yet, there was little he could do to change the situation except offer his support.
So, he made his way to your office, hesitantly pushing the slightly opened door. You were seated at your desk, frowning in concentration as you poured over stacks of paper, your lips pursed in a little pout – a cute habit he cherished heartfully.
A soft knock at the wooden surface was enough to bring your attention to Jake. You barely smiled, your expression was neutral, facing Jake as if he was a regular co-worker. He couldn’t help the shiver running all the way down his spine remembering about the times you greeted with a bright grin as your face lit up. 
He cleared his throat before saying, voice low, close to a whisper; there were layers of hesitation and fear. 
“Do you need any help, Y/N?” 
You blinked a few times and looked down at your papers before you shook your head, denying. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.” 
Maybe it was the manner Jake was reading the world throughout that very specific day, after the whole scolding situation, after how mad you seemed to genuinely be with him and Heeseung… But you sounded way more dry than he expected. Not even his name being voiced out, not even a smile. Just a simple, mere discard. 
“Oh…” He faltered, his puppy eyes casting downward, trailing to the floor as he fidgeted with his fingers. “So… I’ll be at my desk if you need anything.”
“Sure. Thank you.”
After Jake closed the door, granting the privacy you needed and valued, he walked back to his desk, unaware of how affected with his visit you were behind the closed door. 
“What happened?” Heeseung was quick to notice his colleague’s mood after he sat beside him – his pout was ridiculously big.
“I think Y/N hates me,” Jake mumbled, his voice laced with defeat.
“Oh, that’s great. More chances for me,” Heeseung replied, a scornful smirk on his lips as he leaned back, relaxing on his chair.
However, Jake didn’t respond to his teasing the way he expected; he let out a deep breath and gave a small shrug, a reaction to which piqued Heeseung’s curiosity further.
Heeseung approached closer, narrowed eyes searching for a hint of humor or anything similar. When he only found a melancholic scowl, he sighed. 
Was Jake really believing in that? If so, he was damned as well. Not to mention that Jake’s sad frown was heartbreaking.
“Listen,” he began, wetting his lips as he reluctantly placed a comforting hand on Jake's shoulder. “She’s probably just busy. Remember how important this client is for the company and for her?” Jake nodded, still avoiding Heeseung's gaze. “So don’t worry, she doesn’t hate you. She’s just focused.” He reassured. “Yesterday we kinda… crossed the line. But we did it together, right? If she hates you, then she hates me.”
Jake finally lifted his head, meeting an unexpected comfort in Heeseung’s eyes, something rare, considering he was used to Heeseung’s overconfident mannerism – his constant arrogant charm effortlessly got under his skin.
Yet, on that day, and despite Heeseung’s choice of words not being ideal, he had a gentle presence that softened the weight of Jake's feelings.
“You don’t want me winning so easily, do you?” Heeseung nudged Jake's side with playful familiarity, proving that his teasing nature hadn’t entirely vanished. Jake squirmed, a small smile breaking through his previous sorrowness.
“Fuck off.”
And how odd it was finding friendship with someone who had once been your rival?
Jake and Heeseung's camaraderie has bloomed in unexpected ways ever since. They began to explore new parts of their – now – friendship, discovering some sharing interests and even trading work tips, constantly being seen lunching together or just laughing with each other.
Jake now would chuckle at Heeseung's silly jokes, and Heeseung came to appreciate Jake's instincts for insights, something that often surprised him.
You were still the center of their conversations, but instead of competing to prove themselves worthy of you, they chose a different route, one where admiring you from a distance became their shared priority.
“Did you see how she looked today?” Jake asked once, his voice soft and almost awestruck. “My god, my heart actually hurts,” he dramatically placed one hand on his chest, closing his eyes, feigning the aching feeling.
Heeseung nodded with a small smile, leaning back in his chair. “I know, right? And that smile?” He sighed theatrically, also clutching his chest. “I swear, it’s dangerous.”
Jake chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s gonna be the death of us.”
Heeseung glanced at him, smirking. “Worth it.”
“Definitely worth it,” Jake agreed with a dreamy sigh.
Sadly, you missed out this big chapter of their lives, stuck with loads of paperwork that no one else could do, besides you. 
But, ultimately, it was your own fault, as you chose to ignore them, believing it was the most sensible way to handle your feelings.
After the day of the reprimand, instead of carrying on with your usual routine, you felt a heavy weight in your chest. You were upset about the scold and how they seemed downcast, almost disappointed in themselves after hearing your words.
Unlike other times when you had to call out others to get them back on track, this time you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had done something wrong, even if your intentions were justified.
You struggled to find the right place to be, overworking yourself as an excuse to spend some time alone, going over and over your thoughts in order to find somewhere to be, and with every second you just found yourself missing them more and more.
Heeseung’s playful teasing, always with an undertone of flirtation. Jake’s natural ease in helping you solve problems. The brief touches during Heeseung’s coffee runs, when your skin would brush against his just so. Jake’s clumsiness, which often led to scattered papers and the soft, accidental graze of fingers as you both reached down to pick them up.
Not to add the brand new fact that everything resembled them. The mug on your desk, your coffees, the knocks on your door – you eagerly expected to be them –, even when going home and seeing their parking spot empty.
Neither Heeseung nor Jake had openly discussed their feelings with you, but their recent behavior and your last encounter only served to reinforce your theory.
They both liked you.
Ironically, you felt the same way about both of them and so far, had no intention of choosing one over the other – that being your primary reason for your reclusion, as it became clear that they wouldn’t easily get along, so distancing yourself seemed like the best way to suppress your feelings for them.
Your internal conflict wasn’t about picking Heeseung or Jake, but between choosing Heeseung and Jake or none. 
Still, this choice also depended on their openness to share, and their constant friction wasn’t exactly helpful.
When you started to catch small glimpses of Heeseung and Jake wandering around your office floor, talking with each other with an odd enthusiasm and bright smiles, it piqued your curiosity as much as your mind relaxed, because those single actions seemed as a possible way out, as though it built a softened spot to your offer. 
At the end of two intense weeks, you finally felt like breathing again. And apparently your mind seemed to be in the right place. So after finishing the last part from your project, you called Jake and Heeseung into your office, feeling a mix of apprehension and relief as you waited. 
Your legs bounced impatiently, counting the agonizing seconds. In the back of your mind, you had carefully architected the words you wanted to say, such as how much you missed them, how happy you were to work with them again, and maybe even a question or two about their random, unexpected friendship.
You hoped they had sorted things out to some extent, because during your time alone, you yourself had been reflecting on your own feelings and was sure about your decision.
The knock on the door startled you, snapping you back into reality. Your heartbeats raced as you allowed their entrance and the door clicked. 
You took a moment to study the way they exchanged curious glances before focusing on you. They seemed to be the same, handsome as ever, Jake with his usual flustered cheeks and uneven positioned glasses and Heeseung with his gentle, flirty smile.
“Hi,” you greeted, pointing to the chairs in front of your desk. They sat.
“Hi,” Jake answered, mimicking your soft tone.
“Hello,” Heeseung, on the other hand, said confidently, relaxed. “Long time no see, huh?” 
You smiled shyly, after all it was your decision not to be with them for those busy days. 
“Yeah… And I think I owe you an apology,” you began without hesitation, your voice steady, yet, layered with comfort and genuine happiness for seeing them after what felt like ages. “I might have gone too harsh on you two the other day.” 
You were referring to the day you scolded them, the same day Heeseung left your room with a strange behavior, to say the least, if not interesting, and Jake with his tail between his legs. But internally, you also felt sorry for avidly avoiding them. 
“No, it’s fine,” Heeseung brushed it off with a casual wave of his hand, his characteristic smirk on the corner of his lips brightening the whole room. “We deserved it.” He admitted with a tender tone, then he looked at Jake. “Besides, we’re good now, right, Jakey?”
“Oh, are we?” You asked, crossing your arms, a hint of playful skepticism and shock in your tone as you leaned on your chair, eyes flickering in between the two men.
“Yeah, we definitely are,” Jake replied, his sincere smile making it clear that he meant it.
You couldn’t help but also smile at their interaction, the familiar warmth returning to the atmosphere, replacing the tense, weightened previous one. 
“Thank you for figuring it out.” Your voice was sweet as honey as you leaned forward over the desk, causing Heeseung and Jake to almost melt at how endearing you sounded. “I’ve been drowning with work lately. Couldn’t reach out to you sooner.” You gave your excuse and they both gave you an understanding nod, to which ached your heart a little. They seemed so genuine. “But I missed you, if I’m being honest. I really lov– like having you in my team. Having you by my side.”
If your sudden call wasn’t strange enough, that was strange.
Not only did you stumble over your words, but you also showed embarrassment, with your cheeks turning a subtle shade of red and your eyes faltering, almost like you were confessing to a crush. 
And honestly? To Heeseung and Jake, it felt like a confession.
At least, their reaction was as if they had just heard a confession, because not even in their wildest dreams could they have imagined you admitting that you missed them, let alone hearing you saying the words “having you by my side” all together. 
Heeseung’s heart was racing, his brain doing a 360 enough to leave him dizzy, his eyes slightly widened and he shifted on his seat, straightening his posture.
Jake’s hands were sweating since you called, but now they also trembled. An electrifying wave filled his chest, making the simple act of breathing feel difficult. 
“And again, I’m sorry if I was too hard on you both. And I really am glad you’re getting along, as well,” you rushed to add before either of them could respond, though the way they were looking at you made your heart race. It was clear they had noticed your nervous self. “Though... this does make things a bit more complicated. Or maybe not.” You mumbled to yourself when your eyes parted ways from them, furrowing your brow as you tilted your head slightly.
In the past few days, you had developed the habit of talking to yourself to sort something out through the chaotic thoughts and tangled feelings spinning in your mind – Jake and Heeseung being in each of them, without a doubt. But this time you weren’t alone. 
When you saw Heeseung narrowing his eyes with mouth slightly agape and Jake glancing at you with curiosity as the corner of his lips turned upwards, you froze.
Then they exchanged a brief, quiet glance before looking back at you.
“What do you mean by that?” Heeseung was the first one to ask, leaning forward just enough to express how interested he was in your slip-up. His pulse raced with the thoughts that flowed through his head.
“Yeah, what makes what complicated?” Jake added to the question, arching an eyebrow, stepping in the same field as Heeseung.
You blinked, their expectant stares making you want to shrink into your chair. 
Your office window was open and let in a cold, long breeze that indicated the weather was about to change. You shivered, however, you couldn’t pinpoint if it was due to the air brushing your exposed skin or because of your current situation.
“Oh, um,” you stammered, running a hand through your hair nervously – a habit Jake and Heeseung were pretty aware of. “I didn’t mean to say that! I– I was gonna say it’s good to know you’re… closer now.” You squinted, struggling a lot to find a way out for yourself. “It makes things easier and more interesting, actually, I guess,” you let out an awkward chuckle, biting your lower lip as you quickly grabbed your bottle of water and took a long sip, avidly avoiding their eyes. 
Jake’s smile widened, his eyes twinkling with a newfound spark of emotions. “Easier and interesting, huh?”
“Yeah!” You nodded immediately. “Easier for our dynamic. And interesting… Because it’s us three, working together, everybody getting along and stuff…” You explained, with an exaggerated amount of gestures. “If I’m being honest, I had some things to figure out as well.” You confessed for some random reason you weren’t able to identify right away.
After your hard work of days going through the same page, you were losing your composure, you were losing your inner battle, and mainly, you were losing yourself amidst your feelings.
“Like what?” Jake questioned again, his voice soft, sweet as his smile.
Heeseung, on the other hand, was too flabbergasted with the scenario developing in front of him to think straight, so he just watched and prayed for the best outcome, engraving in his mind your every reaction.
You analyzed the two pairs of eyes shooting you the tendernest look, dripping in affection, filled with what you dared to call love. They showed comfort blended with care and a layer of curiosity, afterall, it has to do directly with them and they had a mild good feeling about it.
So you sighed, accepting not your defeat, but your vulnerable state. 
“I felt like I was in the middle of a storm whenever we were in the same room,” you muttered, still maintaining discretion over the topic. “It was frustrating, and I had to figure out why I felt like this.”
“Oh, you still are right in the middle, Y/N.” Heeseung this time rushed to confess and you couldn’t hold back your slightly shocked expression. 
“But I think the storm isn’t happening anymore.” Jake added with a gentle smile, fixing his glasses on his face and placing his hand on the table, your eyes briefly flickering to catch a look of his slender fingers. You swallowed hard. 
“Why were you frustrated, though?” Heeseung asked, cocking his head to the side.
To say he was agitated was an euphemism; he found himself having trouble breathing because not only did you wear the prettiest and hottest clothing that day – a mildly tight dress shirt that emphasized the curves of your boobs –, but the whole situation was out of this word. 
Jake wasn’t different, expecting your reply with his heart aching in despair. He needed to know about what was happening, otherwise he was going to collapse overthinking.
A strong part of either Heeseung and Jake was struggling to maintain the focus in any other possibility, especially because you didn’t demonstrate you liked them back so far, since your natural demeanor to your colleagues was the same – bossy but playful, always reiterating through actions and decisions your superior position over them during work.
However, you seemed to be extra nervous, your face had a faint fluster and you didn’t sound like a manager at all, it was near to a friend type of conversation. It ignited the spark of hope inside their chest.
Once again, without wording it out, they shared a connection. 
As you were about to speak, you felt the fabric of your blouse loosen across your chest, and before you could react, Heeseung and Jake’s eyes instinctively snapped to the same spot, widening.
In sync, you glanced down and realized what had happened. One of your shirt's buttons had popped, revealing a glimpse of your lace bra. 
Your cheeks warmed immediately, a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you damned yourself for choosing such a tight outfit that day, clumsily looking around to find anything that could help cover it.
“Let me just–” Heeseung muttered awkwardly, taking off his jacket and draping it over you in one smooth motion, his fingers lightly brushing your covered shoulders.
Jake's eyes followed his friend’s movements and decided to help as well, as he said “You look good still, don’t worry,” with a small smile, trying to ease the situation and ignoring how he, himself, got affected with just a glimpse of your body.
This is wrong, Jake chanted to himself, trying to shake the thoughts away.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, gripping Heeseung’s jacket tightly around you, your face still flushed. “And thanks.” You nodded toward him in gratitude.
Heeseung caught Jake's flustered expression out of the corner of his eye and couldn't resist shooting him a playful glance. Then, leaning closer to you, he whispered near your ear, “Maybe the button couldn’t handle how stunning you look today.”
His hands lingered on your shoulders for just a moment before he walked back to his previous spot, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. 
You fought back the urge of literally clenching around nothing due to his touch, his low voice and his warmth surrounding you.
“Right,” you chuckled softly, rolling your eyes to lighten the mood, though your heart raced rapidly. “Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about that day, and... I’m really happy that we’re figuring it out.”
The word “we” hung in the air like a delicate sound, and you felt the tension dissipate as a silence enveloped the room, being replaced for another type of weight. Something more affectual, more right.
Heeseung and Jake exchanged a quick, knowing glance before standing up simultaneously, their movements almost in sync.
“I’m glad too,” Heeseung said, his voice a bit softer, offering a small, genuine smile as he adjusted his dress shirt, now without his jacket.
Jake stepped closer to you, meeting your gaze for a second longer than usual before adding, “And just so you know... we missed you too.” His voice was sincere, his eyes filled with something deeper than just friendship.
The confirmation you needed.
And with that, they both left your office, leaving you alone with your thoughts, the lingering warmth of Heeseung's jacket around your shoulders and Jake’s sweet, meaningful words.
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The same storm happening inside your mind seemed to mirror the one unfolding outside, rain cascading down in heavy sheets in front of you as you watched from afar. The sound of water splashing against the pavement might have been poetic in another circumstance.
“Hey.”
The soft voice startled you from your thoughts, and you spun around on your heels to see Heeseung approaching, a curious yet gentle smile on his face. His presence felt warm amidst the cold drizzle sprinkling through the wind on you.
“Oh, Heeseung!” You greeted, trying to match his energy with a bright smile, though your mind quickly jumped to why he was there. “Your jacket– Right.” You began slipping it off your shoulders, ready to return it to him.
But Heeseung quickly reached out, stopping your movement and pulling the jacket back over you. “No, no– Don’t worry about it,” he interrupted smoothly, his hand lingering for a second longer on the fabric as he gave you a reassuring look. Then his expression shifted, brows furrowing slightly in confusion. “But, uh, what are you doing out here?”
“Oh,” you glanced back out at the rain, pulling the jacket a little tighter around yourself, “I’m just waiting for the rain to ease up a bit so I can call an Uber.”
Heeseung frowned deeply, his gaze flicking toward the street and back to you. “Wait, don’t you have a car?”
You sighed, shaking your head slightly. “I do, or I did until this morning when it decided to break down.”
“Ah,” he nodded, processing your words before falling quiet for a moment. He shifted on his feet, as if trying to decide his next move, as if a strong battle was happening between his brain and heart. The rain wasn’t easing at all, and something sparkled in him – a protective instinct, perhaps. Or maybe a justification to keep you closer.
Heeseung cleared his throat. “I could take you home,” he suggested casually, though he felt a small rush of nerves rise. He wasn’t sure if he was overstepping.  “How does that sound?”
You smiled at him, grateful for the offer but quick to shake your head.
“I wouldn’t want to put you through that. You live way too far from my place,” you chuckled softly, nearly teasing. “Besides, I’m already stealing your jacket. I can’t steal your time, too.”
Heeseung’s lips curved into a small grin, but there was something deeper behind his eyes as he shrugged.
“It’s really nothing,” he said softly, his voice calm and sincere. “The jacket and the time – it doesn’t matter. I’ve got all the time in the world for you, Y/N.” He stepped just a little closer, the warmth of his presence cutting through the coldness of the rain. “And, you know… the rain doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.”
You looked back at him, feeling a flutter in your chest at his words. The idea of being in a closed space with him for too long seemed wrong. The feeling of being his superior, being in a higher position in a company you both worked, stirred your conflict.
However, you had already clocked out. It was not about working anymore.
It was about your fear of losing your control when being in a space where there were no rules preventing you from kissing his oh, so tempting lips. 
Heeseung seemed to be in the middle of a fight as well, and it somehow helped you in your decision, as you smiled kindly, mimicking his same expression – soft, lovingly. 
“Okay.”
The drive was smooth, calm and with some words being exchanged on the way; you instructed the directions every once and a while, and Heeseung glanced at you within the excuse to listen to them correctly, but the real reason was to capture the image of you being so close.
As Heeseung pulled into the underground parking lot of your apartment building, the rain still pounded on the outside ground, seeming no close from ending.
You both sat for a moment, the quiet hum of the car serving as a background for the intriguing silence, as well as the sound of the relentless storm. 
Heeseung looked over at you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as you waited for your courage to build up completely with the thought that crossed your mind in a flicker of seconds. 
“Safe and sound.” His voice was sweet and low, a perfect blend to fuel your core into responding immediately, your throat feeling dry, your body temperature increasing. 
You chuckled lightly. “Yeah.”
Your eyes searched for his and invisible strings connected them for what felt like hours, your skin tingling, aching to touch him in any possible way, just a taste, just a crumb of him. 
“Thank you,” you whispered, noticing that Heeseung’s gleaming orbs followed the motion of your lips before coming back to your eyes, then it seemed to trace your features, taking in sweetly, tenderly. 
Heeseung was so fucking in love. 
You had your hair messy due to the humidity frizz, your makeup was a little smeared and your face showed a mix of tiredness and something he read as hesitation. Still, you were absolutely stunning.
He gulped down nothing, his eyelids slowly blinking as he engraved your perfect features. 
Unexpectedly or not, you were no different. You really appreciated every bit of Heeseung’s traits, how he would be smiling with the right amount of affection and flirtiness, his touches always tender and respectful, his words aiming and hitting right into your heart.
Heeseung was gentle as a lullaby, soothing and embracing. He was warm, comforting. 
“Do you want to come up and wait it out? No point in driving back through this rain.” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. 
A faint shocking expression washed over Heeseung’s face before he relaxed. 
“You sure? I don’t wanna bother you.”
You were quick to deny it with a head shake. “You’d never. Besides, I owe you a proper thank you for the jacket and the ride.”
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There was some tension in the air as you both took the elevator quietly and walked towards your apartment. A different kind, almost tempting of tension. The same one that appeared when Heeseung and Jake stood in the same room as you after all of you sorted out things a bit.
It triggered your eagerness, fueled your desire, taunted your urge to kiss Heeseung and remove his clothes if he let you do it.
You mastered the art of detaching work from home and vice versa, and for that reason you hesitated before inviting Heeseung over, because you were aware your apartment was your safe space to feel everything you suppressed during the day.
With Heeseung’s scent enveloping you, the phantom of his touch lingering on your skin and the memories of his eyes lighting up when he saw you after so long, you feared to surrender to your deep, intense desires and screw up what just got resolved. 
You fought to keep that flame contained, reminding yourself not to seem desperate or to scare Heeseung out. The two weeks being apart didn’t help at all, each day had stretched on, filled with an aching longing for some closeness, not only with Heeseung but with Jake too.
Both men stirred something deep within you, igniting feelings of passion and affection that were dangerously intoxicating. And right at that moment, you shared an intimate setting with one of them.
You felt your heart race as you caught glimpses of Heeseung's shy smirk and those captivating eyes that always made you melt, never leaving yours, reading you like his favorite book.
As you opened the door, Heeseung excused himself while entering your living room, following your trail.
“Do you accept anything? Water? A drink, maybe?” You asked politely.
“No, I’m fine. Thanks.”
“Alright,” you smiled. “You can sit on the sofa, don’t be shy.” You said playfully before heading to the kitchen to get yourself something and to avoid being too close, your last view being Heeseung with flustered cheeks sitting on your couch.
Heeseung was a mess, and thanked you internally when you left him alone so he could breathe properly. He fluttered his eyes close, a movie of his day happening on the big screen of his mind, reminding him that you showed awareness of his situation with Jake, and somehow, it felt like you were open to trying something with both of them.
God, he genuinely hoped that was the case. Otherwise, he would be in deep trouble, his expectations shattered into fragments, and he would have to pick up the pieces alone – without Jake, with whom he had constructed such a personal and intense friendship during the recent days.
The possibility of you choosing Jake over him overtook a big place in his mind.
He had enough confidence in a confrontation, but the moment he recognized Jake's unique personality, he began to question whether the best choice for you was, in fact, Jake.
He still wanted you – desperately –, but nothing stopped him from believing that you deserved the very best. You had always deserved the best.
And how disgusted would you be to know that he got aroused just thinking about being in your apartment, close to your intimacy? Or that your fierce, assertive side made him go hard? Disgusting.
Ironically, the thought of you feeling repulsed by him only fueled his desire to have you in ways that went beyond a mere working friendship. He was acting like a pervert. 
He worked hard to get into your heart, and when you finally let him in, he was lost, he didn’t know what to do. It was pure chaos.
And now, he found himself getting turned on, caught in the mix of emotions and desires he couldn’t contain anymore. 
“I should get going,” he whispered to himself, unaware that you had returned from the kitchen and were watching him from behind.
“Should you?”
He nearly jumped in his seat at your bold, sudden question, turning his head just enough to catch a look of you now without his jacket, yet, with the same shirt. The exact same shirt that had the fucking button popped open and gave him a sneak peek of your cleavage and part of your boobs.
There was a smile dancing on the corner of your lips, an feigned air of innocence accompanying your features, yet you still seemed devilish. 
“It’s still raining, Heeseung,” you pointed out the obvious, using it as an excuse to keep him there. “Stay for a while. I’m sure we can entertain each other, yeah?”
Heeseung was speechless. 
He had a knot on his throat preventing words from coming out of his mouth, and he panicked when noticed your expression faltering before his silence.
You blinked out of your sudden courageous trance, your whole body shifting into something more restrained as you broke eye contact. 
“I mean, we can order something to eat and–”
“No,” he urged to interrupt you, leaving his briefcase on your couch as he stood up. His steps were light, but confident as he reached closer. “I’m sure we can enjoy each other’s presence for a little longer.”
The moment those words hung in the air, something snapped within you as if it was everything you needed to get your control back. Not the workplace, manager type of control, but control over him.
You closed the distance in an instant, capturing his lips with yours eagerly. Heeseung reacted instinctively, returning the kiss with equal desperation and desire, his hands roaming across your body as if trying to memorize every inch of you, squeezing your ass, your thighs, your waist, anything that put him closer to you.
The kiss deepened in seconds, a wild mix of urgency and need lingering on your tongues as they danced together, desperate for more.
What you had longed for just a few weeks, Heeseung had yearned for months.
He tasted as lustful as he seemed to be, touching the right places, pulling you near as he pressed you against him intensely. Your hands gripped on his shoulders trying to balance yourself as he guided you both towards a wall, your back hitting it softly although the shared touch was intense.
As your bodies moved in sync, you could feel the hardness of his dick pressing against you, especially when he started to involuntarily grind on you. A mischievous smirk tugged on the corner of your lips as you parted the heated kiss, searching for his beautiful eyes – now filled with craving.
“Oh, look at you,” you cooed, trailing down your hands just enough to graze his crotch area. “Already like this?” You gave it a small squeeze, eliciting a moan from him. “And I haven’t even done anything yet, huh?”
There was a clear amusement in your whole expression as you glazed your eyes with Heeseung’s deepened ones. His breath hitched at your words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement flooding his cheeks, sending a pulse straight to his cock. Your acknowledgment of his premature and humiliating state of arousal and how your eyes sparkled with mischief sent a thrill wave through him.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he admitted, his voice low and broken, desire dripping off it as he held you tightly and tried to kiss you again. 
You swerve to the side, teasingly. “Maybe I do,” you replied, your voice sultry as you leaned in closer, brushing your lips on his, tempting a kiss that you didn’t let happen.
Your hands maintained a mild friction against his hardness, giving just enough stimulation to drive him wild. You watched with delight as his hooded eyes struggled to stay open, his mouth slightly agape, letting out the prettiest sounds just for you.
Heeseung was already falling apart, and the mere thought of it excited you even more.
You chuckled softly before pressing a playful kiss to his cheek. “What should I do with you, hmm?” you murmured, kissing the other cheek. “So needy, aren’t you?”
His breathing quickened, and the flush on his cheeks deepened. “Please…” he begged, desperation lacing his tone as he once again tried to capture your lips. He wanted you so badly he was becoming impatient. 
You arched an eyebrow and smirked, your eyes catching every single reaction of him.
“Please what? You’ll have to be more specific than that, Hee.” You feigned innocent eyes, batting your eyelashes as if you weren't touching his clothed cock, his hips continuing to press forward searching for more. 
You placed another kiss, this time, on the corner of his lips, taunting. 
“Kiss me, please.” Heeseung whispered, and as his mouth tracked yours, you let him in with his attempt, his tongue immediately finding its pleasure in yours.
Heeseung moaned with how good you tasted, growing addicted within every second; he could spend hours kissing you, he came to realize. Nonetheless, his painful and neglected length was screaming for some more attention, especially because the fabric of his boxers and pants prevented a bolder, bare touch, and making out with you would do nothing except make it hurt more.
“Where’s your bedroom?” He questioned not really giving you space to answer, his mouth busy sucking your lower lip and tongue.
You let go of his erection to start to remove his dress shirt as you mumbled the direction to him before he grabbed you by your thighs, lifting your body with an unexpected ease as he led you two towards the said room. The opened door made it easier for Heeseung to enter, placing you on the soft mattress of your bed, hovering over your heated body, craving for more.
“You’re so hot,” he whispered against the flesh of your neck and then started to nibble the area, sucking and kissing as if his life depended on it. His hands found their way everywhere, all of his movements expressed how desperate he was for you.
“So are you,” you were able to respond, catching a glimpse of his tanned torso.
Heeseung had a tattoo that covered part of his left rib and you took a mental note to give it the due attention later.
Your fingers threaded through his hair, grabbing it with a mild strength, enough to guide him, so he could put his lips where you wanted. Heeseung let you control, going down to your exposed cleavage and distracting you as he started to unbutton your shirt so he had your laced bra holding your breasts in full display.
“So fucking beautiful,” he marveled in a whisper as he straightened his posture enough to drink from the view – you seemed so dreamy under him with your heavy breathing, swollen kiss parted with a hint of a smile and eyes filled with lust. 
It took seconds for Heeseung to return to his mission to dive into you after removing your bra with your assistance. His mouth toyed with each of your nipples, warm tongue making wonders as you squirmed a little, making no effort to hold back your sounds as you moaned, your panties long gone ruined with your wetness.
There was a feeling haunting the corners of Heeseung’s mind that defocused him a fraction from his actions, though. A fear of losing this proximity, losing the possibility of kissing you, losing his chances, losing you.
The more his tongue danced on your smooth skin, the more it felt bittersweet.
He figured his chances hovered around 50%, from what he had interpreted your intentions – maybe you would test what he had to give, comparing to Jake afterwards, then deciding on one of them?
The idea of sharing you never crossed his mind, not from jealousy; a little, sure, but it wasn’t just that. Sharing felt unrealistic, because he couldn’t see you making such a bold choice.
You sensed his sudden hesitation, how his fingers paused momentarily before resuming their exploration of your body, how his breath was irregular and not from arousal, but from something deeper, as if an inner conflict held him back.
“I don’t know what’s going through your mind right now, but I’m pretty sure you don’t need to worry about it,” you murmured softly, your voice cutting through the haze in his head and bringing him back to you.
He blinked, his eyes searched for yours and found tranquility on it, even behind the intensity of the momentum. You offered a delicate and unique space that allowed him to be free with himself, that being one of the reasons he started to have his feelings for you. 
You had an approachable aura, an adorable soothing voice and a way to play with words that anyone felt easy to open up with you.
“What if I’m thinking about–" He started, his voice small, but the fear of ruining the mood, of disappointing you, stopped him quickly. He shook his head, leaning in closer. “Forget it.”
“You’re safe here, Heeseung,” you said, your hand caressing his face with a tenderness that calmed him instantly. A reassuring smile appeared on your lips and the atmosphere shifted into something serene amidst its intensity. “No judgments. I’m not going anywhere.”
His lips pressed against the palm of your hand, and he placed his own over it, slowly moving it away from his cheek as he began trailing kisses up your arm, deliberate, heated kisses from your wrist to your shoulder, from your neck to your jaw, until it finally met your mouth.
It was slow, purposeful, filled with a restrained intensity that sent a shiver through your body and left you breathless. Heeseung wanted to show just a quarter of how much he needed you, afraid of overwhelming you with how his love for you felt, but equally terrified of losing you mid-battlefield.
In the midst of chaos, you became the only compass that guided him back home. You were the soul that gave meaning to everything, the calm after a relentless storm, the strength that kept him sane. Each passing day, he yearned for your presence, as if the mere thought of having you near made the world brighter – and it did. 
Your smile healed wounds he didn’t even know he had. You were always there for him, helping, listening, playing along with his jokes.
It was absurd, painful, and intense, and he was ridiculously in love with that feeling, and most of all, he was deeply in love with you.
“I want you so badly,” he whispered in a confessing tone when the kiss finally broke. “I want you every day, every second.” He kissed you again, his hands sneaking into your hair to grip your nape, pulling you closer. It felt like walking in quicksand. “It hurts to think I might lose you.”
In different circumstances, you would interpret that statement as a common fear of a lover regarding their passion. However, the context was more intricate, more delicate; there was a third person – Jake – who would also receive a similar treatment, and it struck you deep in your chest to recognize that Heeseung’s fear of being replaced felt constant and was becoming more vivid in that moment, as he realized he was having a piece of you.
Taking a deep breath, you met his hesitant gaze, your heart racing as you tried to articulate your thoughts.
“Heeseung,” you began softly, your voice barely above a whisper. His bambi eyes sparkled with a mix of fear and affection. “You don’t have to worry about this now, ok?” You reassured once again, his chest loosening the tight feeling, because you would always have that effect on him. “I have things figured out. Kind of.” You giggled timidly and Heeseung just realized he had a new favorite sound.
Your fingers gently tangled in his hair, your body warmth reminding you just how eager you were, the phantom of his mouth working on your body serving as a lascivious reminiscence.
“But let me have you tonight first, please?”
Heeseung’s breath hitched, reading your deep, lustful eyes. 
How could he refuse such a sweet plea?
“Yes,” he breathed, urgency coloring his voice, caring little for how desperate he sounded – because he was. “Yes, please.”
Almost like a snap of fingers, the atmosphere around you ignited once more, your room seeming to close in around the two of you as his eyes darkened with desire. Heeseung sounded so deliciously desperate that your only response was to gently turn him until his back hit the bed, positioning yourself above him.
Your hands caressed the bare flesh of his chest, fingertips grazing softly on his nipples and ribs, where they stopped for a while. Heeseung winced with the amazing feeling of you admiring him, your light-feather touch enough to send a wave of arousal straight to his dick.
“You are one of the most gorgeous men I have ever seen, Heeseung,” it was your time to marvel him, smiling lovingly as you used the tip of your nail to draw along his dragon tattoo. “And I’m so fucking lucky to have you like this right now.”
Your voice was filled with sultriness, velvety as ever as you lowered yourself to press your lips on his low stomach, eyes never breaking contact. Heeseung shivered once more under your intense gaze, watching you sneak one your hands on his pants’ waistband, unbuttoning it just to remove it completely and toss it somewhere else on your room’s floor. 
You stood up just to remove your pants as well, keeping on your laced panties, savoring the view of Heeseung’s chest rising and falling deeply, eyes dripping honey and desire as he also devoured your body.  
“You know, I have a feeling that you like something…” You started to say with a thoughtful voice as you leaned closer, placing yourself back on top of him.
“You?” 
You let out a genuine chuckle, shaking your head. Heeseung had a small smile on his lips and looked at you with curiosity. 
“No,” you answered, voice smooth as your hand trailed slowly up and down on his chest. “I think you like being… put in your place,” you smirked, watching his expression shifting into a mild shocking, then darkening at your words as his breath caught in his throat. “I noticed how you reacted when I was scolding you and Jake…” You kept on talking, now playing with the waistband of his boxers, teasingly; his prominent Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped nervously. “Getting hard just because I was mad, huh?” 
Heeseung had blushed cheeks while failing to keep on looking at you, running away from your sly gaze, before he muttered, embarrassed, “I don’t know what you are talking abo–”
“Oh, you do know,” you purred, your voice lowering an octave. “Don’t act all shy now, Lee Heeseung,” you forced your tone to sound close to a reprimand, flashing a sharp look at him as you freed his throbbing dick from his last clothing piece. 
Heeseung groaned quietly in between his heavy breath as you admired his length’s flushed appearance, how hard and wet with precum it was, dripping for you. Your mouth watered and your hands itched, aching to give that man some more relief.
“Just give me the green signal and I’ll make you feel so good, Hee,” you voiced out as you glazed your eyes on his, your own body reacting to his state of desperation sending pulsing waves straight to your cunt.
His legs squirmed under you as you lowered your face, closing the distance between his cock and your mouth. Your breath brushed against its skin and Heeseung winced. “Please…” He whispered, nodding. “It’s hurting.”
You smirked. “There you go…” And tilted your head slightly, slowly grabbing his hardness with one hand.
Just the touch of your soft and warm hand enveloping his shaft had him closing his eyes and biting his lip, holding back an embarrassing moan that threatened to escape.
“You’re so needy,” you cooed teasingly with a quirked eyebrow, eyeing Heeseung with a faux disdain as he opened his eyelids just to catch a glimpse of it, his dick twitching under your fingers. 
“Yes, please,” his hips buckled forward as he whimpered, searching for more. “I am needy, please, keep touching me, Y/N–”
“Yeah?” A devilish smile tugged on the corner of your lips as you started stroking faster. “A little pathetic, Heeseung. Don’t you think so? All of this just for some handjob…” You clicked your tongue without halting your movements, neither letting your grin disappear. “Lucky to you, you’re just how I like it.”
Heeseung's breath hitched at your words, his chest heaving as he tried to keep himself grounded, but the teasing was overwhelmingly delicious. The way you handled him, every squeeze of your hand making him feel both humiliated and completely at your mercy. His mind fogged with pleasure, and it became harder to think, to hold back, to stay composed, his own body and voice betraying his attempts of holding back. 
When you started to give his tip more attention by cupping your hand on it and your tongue flattering against it, as if you taunted a full blowjob, he found himself near to the edge already.
Not only was he living his wettest dream, but your expertise on knowing exactly what and how to get him going eased his release to get closer and closer.
You noticed Heeseung's moans intensifying and his body squirming more than before. Although it was your first time with him, you easily deduced that he was close to reaching his climax.
But you had other plans.
Without any warning, you stopped everything – your hands, your mouth – retreating from his body, and eliciting a sound from Heeseung that landed somewhere between a cry and a whimper. His wide, desperate bambi eyes gleamed in confusion and frustration.
“N–No– Why–”
“I don’t want you to cum on my hands,” you said feigning innocence, blinking sweetly as if you weren’t ruining his release. 
Reaching over to your nightstand, you grabbed a condom, smoothly rolling it onto Heeseung’s painfully hard cock before positioning yourself over him. As you hovered above his length, you glanced at him, searching for confirmation.
Heeseung had propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes wide, flickering between your sultry expression and the sight of his cock pressing against your slick entrance. He understood your unspoken question and gave a quick, eager nod. His gaze was immediately drawn back to his dick disappearing inside of you as your walls enveloped him completely.
“F–Fuck,” Heeseung breathed, his voice trembling, almost strained, his abs flexing as he instinctively thrusted slightly forward before collapsing back onto the bed.
The sensation of your wet heat gripping him tightly was overwhelming. He rolled his eyes back and let his head fall against the pillow, biting his lip to keep from moaning too loudly.
“I’m not gonna last long–” he muttered through heavy breaths, his strong hands gripping your hips, holding on like you were the only thing keeping him grounded, forgetting that, in fact, you were the one leading his lustful ruin.
“Oh, you will,” you murmured, rolling your hips back and forth in a painful slow pace while you adjusted. “You’re not that pathetic, are you?” You teased, voice thick with challenge. 
However, to your surprise and delight, Heeseung’s response was unexpectedly better than your imagination.
“I am–” He interrupted himself with a deep moan as you purposefully clenched around his dick. “I am that pathetic,” he whispered, hands tightening on your hips. “I am pathetic for you, for you only.”
You instinctively reacted to his vulnerable, desperate words. You could feel the raw intensity behind it, his complete surrender to you, and it fueled your own desire. 
“Yeah?” You cocked your head to the side with a smug smile, supporting yourself with your palms planted on his chest as he started to thrust up into you, seeking for more of your addicting squeeze around his dick. “Show me, then.”
Heeseung’s entire body shuddered beneath you while he forced your hips down to meet his own buckling up; you, yourself barely helping, letting him do all the work just for a little teasing.
However, Heeseung hit a certain spot in you that had your dominant facade faltering, a choking moan slipping from your throat while you frowned with pure pleasure as your arms wavered briefly to hold you still.
“You feel that?” His voice cracked, eyes fluttering open to catch a glimpse of your lascivious expression. “I’m yours–”
You bit your lip, a rush of adrenaline waving through your body, tingling at his words, your mind spinning with the intoxicating pleasure of having Heeseung so completely at your mercy.
You leaned forward, your mouth grazing his ear as you whispered, “Such a good boy...”
The simple praise sent a visible shiver through his spine, his grip on you faltering momentarily as a desperate groan escaped his lips, eyes rolling as he threw his head back, letting his perfect neck in all display for you.
It became clear – he was close, teetering right on the edge, just waiting for your command, nonetheless you weren't quite ready to let him have it, especially because the knot in your stomach just started to tighten. 
"Not yet," you said breathlessly against his jawline, a wicked grin spreading across your face as you lightly bit and kissed the area. "You'll have to wait just a little longer, Heeseung."
You could feel his cock twitching inside you, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. 
In no universe could Heesung have imagined that this would be how his day ended, with you dominating him so effortlessly, and most importantly, him letting it happen and savoring every single delightful second.
“P–Please…” Heeseung whimpered, his voice cracking into a soft cry, his fingers trembling against your skin, kneading it as a way to regain his control. One of his fingers slipped to your clit, rubbing it the way he could due to the position.
You kept on riding Heeseung with all you had, your thighs burning in the process but you couldn’t care less. The way he was whining in your ear, panting and pleading, together with his touch on your sensitive spot and his fingers doing circles on your clit brought you close to the edge as well. With each clench around his dick, you could feel his restrain slipping away.
“I’m– Please–” 
“Let go, Hee. Cum for me, yeah?” You purred against his lips, sloppily kissing it as you drank his guttural moan, feeling the condom filling up inside you. 
Your core bubbled and the knot tightened, and you coated the condom with your juices while a whimper came out from your lips. Heeseung’s grip tightened as you rode you both through your highs.
Your mouths slowly found a comfortable pace as you also fully decreased your movements, savoring the aftershocks of your release and feeling Heeseung’s beneath you.  
Heeseung’s breaths came in heavy pants as you parted the kiss by sucking his lower lip. You lifted yourself enough to search for his eyes, filled with happiness and satisfaction. 
“Did that feel good?” you asked softly, brushing a stray hair from his sweaty forehead, your fingers lingering on his warm skin.
“More than I could ever imagine,” he admitted, a shy smile breaking through his panting breaths. “You’re incredible.”
“So are you,” you whispered, kissing him again.
This time, deliberate and loaded with emotion. All the feelings that once carried an air of doubt while hovering in your mind now felt certain, and the warmth in your heart only confirmed that as your body relaxed and you emerged from the lustful bliss, leaving you and Heeseung in a sweet, loving bubble. 
Heeseung helped clean you and himself, even taking a shower since you offered some of your brother’s never used clothes, you caught yourself mingling on his warm embrace, now resting your cheek on his bare chest that rose and fell softly.
“I really like you, Y/N,” Heeseung's voice was dripping in honey, kind and sweet as his fingers trailed a gentle path on your arm. “Like, really like you.”
“I know,” you whispered with a smile, struggling to contain the sting in your heart. “But you’re not the only one, right?” You asked and lifted your head just enough to capture his tender eyes focusing on you.
He shook his head, biting his lips nervously.
“No,” he finally confessed with a sigh, holding you closer as if you would slip away from his grip at any moment, without a warning. “I’m not.”
You both shared a silence filled with unspokenly delicate words. 
“Give Jake a chance as well.” 
Heeseung’s phrase lingered on your brain for longer than you expected, filled with sincerity. He was willing to offer you the option, the possibility to choose between him and Jake. And somehow that made the scenario even easier.
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“Got your message. You called me in?”
You were slightly startled by Jake’s sudden entrance into your office, even though you had already allowed it through text. You took a moment to admire him – he seemed a bit out of breath, his disheveled hair and wide, puppy eyes making his adorable charm stand out even more.
“Close the door,” you said firmly. “And lock it.” Jake's trembling hands did as you instructed.
“What’s going on?” he asked, wincing under your intense gaze.
You had clenched your jaw, your fingers fidgeting casually as you leaned your hips against your desk, exuding an air of something he read as severity.
Despite the tension palpable in the air, he couldn’t help but take notice of how stunning you looked, with your clothing choice for the day accentuating your curves and your hair in a high ponytail. He shamelessly checked you out, mesmerized with your figure and oblivious of the fact you were playing with him with all bossy that posture. 
The topic was sensitive, but nothing stopped you from playing a little.
“Did Heeseung tell you he visited me yesterday?” You broke the silence
Jake blinked, gaze flickering immediately from your thighs to your eyes, completely thrown off by your words, confusion clear on his face.
“W–what?”
“Yeah.” You smirked, placing your palms against the desk behind you and leaning back, relaxed. “Did he?” You blinked innocently, as though you genuinely cared about his answer. “Because if he didn’t, he’s playing a much dirtier game than I expected,” you feigned disappointment, clicking your tongue and pouting after.
“What are you talking about, Y/N?”
For a brief moment, you hesitated. Jake seemed genuinely clueless, but you knew better. You had all the evidence – the little game between them, the silent competition that had gone unspoken for too long.
Heeseung had told you his side of the story and indirectly a quarter of Jake’s.
Even though Heeseung and Jake had grown closer and eased some of the tension between them, there was an underlying feeling that occasionally surfaced, standing out from the rest: beneath it all, there was the undeniable desire to have you. Despite the mutual understanding of the connection they both shared, the notion of a single winner still lingered in the background, subtly driving their everyday actions.
“You know exactly what I'm talking about,” you answered, voice still steady, but now with a layer of seduction laced in between your words. Your eyes never left Jake’s face, even when he drifted them away due to his shyness before you. “You are falling behind, Jakey.”
Jake stood there with a small frown, processing your words; he would be lying if he didn’t think at some point that, behind all his friendship with Heeseung, there was you, occupying almost every corner of his head with your beautiful smile and charming personality. 
You were his main objective, his goal, after all.
“Come on, Jake,” you pressed, your tone dripping with challenge. “Are you really just going to sit back and let Heeseung win this?”
Internally you prayed for any green light from Jake. Otherwise, your decision and respective demeanor could ruin everything – your job, your friendship. It was unethical, unprofessional, against every guideline you fought to uphold at the company.
But watching Jake with his jaw tightening, fist clenched and eyes widening in confusion and anger, was far too tempting to stop.
Your words sparked something deep inside Jake, awakening his competitive side that had been lying dormant despite the constant swirl of emotions in his mind. The need to win, to prove himself, came back to life. More than anything, he wanted to be the best, especially for you.
So a war happened inside him: on one side, the resentful acceptance that if he lost to Heeseung, at least you would be with someone who would treat you right; but on the other, a fierce, burning desire.
Jake couldn’t shake the intoxicating rush that came from your approval, the way your praise felt after his every effort, after every achievement; your cute smile and shining eyes showed him a galaxy of happiness. 
And now, the thought of losing that, of watching someone else receive what he craved from you, wasn’t something he could tolerate. He wanted to be the one to make you proud, to make you feel the way you made him feel – and that competitive fire was about to consume him entirely.
Since apparently Heeseung had his chance to prove his side, now it was his time.
The room was thick with anticipation as he slowly stepped closer, the space between you shrinking, the office boundaries blurring.
“Come closer…” you purred, eyes gleaming with amusement as you watched him move towards you, desire growing clear in his eyes.
The second he was in front of you, his hands traveled instantly to your waist, the heated touch making you nearly gasp. His fingers pressed into the soft fabric of your clothing, pulling you closer as his breathing grew heavier. 
For a brief moment, you felt drunk in Jake’s scent and firm grip, his eyes behind the glasses lingering longer on your lips before he bit his own, as if he was restraining himself. However, he easily lost his own battle, leaning in intending to kiss you, but you gently pushed against his chest, smirking.
“No, mm-mm,” you tutted, shaking your head as he hesitated, your teasing smile driving him mad; the proximity, the chances, everything taunting his desire to give up on his principles and pleasure you. “We cannot do anything while working, Jake. You know that.” You playfully reminded him, nodding along like it was an innocent rule, all while your eyes glinted with mischief. “I’m your manager.” 
Jake groaned softly, clearly torn between desire and duty, but then you leaned in closer, your voice dropping into a soft whisper. “However…” You cupped his jaw, thumb grazing his lip with agonizing slowness, and you could feel him melt under your touch.
His lips parted slightly, his warm tongue just brushing your thumb, causing a wave of arousal to surge through your body. You swallowed hard, suppressing a moan.
You continued, your voice barely audible but dripping with sensuality, being the only one filling the room as Jake just stood there, in need of you, “We can’t just ignore that Heeseung made his move, can we? Supposedly, you're next, right?” Your eyes sparkled as you cocked your head, taking in Jake’s hooded, desperate gaze. You licked your lips and grabbed his tie, pulling him even closer, lips now brushing against each other while you savored the delicious tension.
“So… what’s it gonna be?” you whispered the words, your breath mingling with him as you pulled even closer by his tie. “Hm?”
His eyes darkened before fluttering shut, and you knew he was near to the edge of letting go from whatever internal struggle holding him back. Yet, you didn't expect Jake to eagerly kiss you, throwing aside any thoughts about being at work.
It would be a euphemism to say you weren’t as desperate as he was, your arousal guiding your decisions the moment that attractive man showed up in your office with his usual clumsy state, all messy and unnecessarily hot as he demonstrated confusion from your sudden call. 
Jake’s taste melting on your tongue made the task of remembering your responsibilities harder, and you pathetically tossed your ethics aside as you devoured Jake’s plush, soft lips.
Fingers threading through his silky hair, you pulled him closer, as if the mere contact of your mouths and the warmth of his body pressing against yours wasn't enough. A fire ignited within you, threatening to consume you both, fueled by the ragged breaths escaping his lips mingled with groans of delight.
Jake felt like dying, and he was loving every second. 
There was an annoying itch at the back of his mind, reminding him that you were both in a workplace and that the risk of being caught was large. But instead of pushing him away, it drew him even closer.
In no universe he would let the opportunity of his life slip away easily like that.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed behind you, breaking the intoxicating moment for some seconds. Jake’s lips trailed down to your neck to give you the chance to reach for it. Your breath was heavy as you read the notification: meeting in an hour.
You quickly typed a message to Heeseung, asking him to come up with an excuse for anyone who might approach your door. You kept it vague, knowing he would totally understand the situation, especially since he had seen Jake enter your office.
With your heart racing you threw your phone at some random place before turning your attention to Jake, to dive back into the moment before the outside world interrupted your brand new little secret.
Jake gave you no chance to react when he suddenly lifted your hips and sat you on the wooden surface of your desk, forcing your legs open so he could place himself between them. His sneaky fingers found the hem of your shirt, invading the area shamelessly, the warm touch together with his lips sucking the flesh of your neck made you shiver, the bubbling desire in your core intensifying each painful second.
“D–Don’t leave any marks,” you warned breathlessly, loving how fast Jake found your sensitive spot and started to give it some proper attention, but afraid of being too obvious with the after. 
You could feel his hardness brushing against your legs from time to time, and you noticed at some point he began to slightly thrust forward, seeking for friction. You weren’t much different, though – your hands tugged his hair gently to give you some support as you waved your hips towards Jake, searching for a similar relief, moaning softly.
Impatience was growing as much as your desire, so you clumsily slipped down from your desk and pushed Jake’s torso back without saying a word. His instant reaction was to retract himself in a confused state, hands faltering on keeping squeezing you; his glasses were uneven as ever and a bit foggy, hair was sticking up all over and chest visibly raising and falling with each deep breath. 
“We don’t have much time,” you purred, your voice dripping with sultry seduction as your eyes roamed over Jake’s disheveled state. “And I’m pretty sure a dedicated employee like you doesn’t want to get caught, right?”
A playful smirk tugged at your lips as you began to unbutton your pants in a slow, deliberate, teasing show. Jake’s breath hitched with the view and your words, the aching reminder he unfortunately couldn’t do everything he dreamed of with you. 
His gaze fixated on every inch of your skin, shamelessly moaning when you lowered your pants just enough to reveal your white panties, completely soaked with arousal. You toyed with the waistband, your smile widening as he dropped to his knees before you, desperation written all over his face.
“Let me eat you out. We don’t need to do anything more. Just let me taste you,” Jake pleaded, his eyes filled with longing and urgency, his composure long gone completely out of reach.
Goosebumps sprawled over your skin before you commanded, “Eat me out, and then fuck me, Jake.”
Your tone was thick with confidence and lust as you turned on your back, bending over the polished wooden surface in a way of presenting yourself to him.
Jake groaned as he carefully removed your panties, revealing your ass and your cunt to him; Jake groaned, barely able to contain himself as he slid your panties down, exposing your ass and glistening cunt. His mouth watered instinctively as he leaned forward, positioning himself to take a long, delicious lick of your wet folds. His plump lips enveloped you, sucking gently as though he were savoring a delicate dessert, each flick of his tongue igniting a fire deep within you.
Jake envisioned purpose as being to please you, in every possible way. He would come up with alternative solutions to your problems, make you proud by delivering incredible results at work, and relieve the pressure and burden of your job by dealing with the part he could. 
But what he craved the most was to explore the depths of your satisfaction, discover and learn every inch of you that sparkled your thrilling emotions and give you what you deserved.
Jake was devoted to you, sweet as honey and affectionate as a teddy bear in an agonizingly delightful way. Because in the end, you would always praise him, leaving him flustered as you highlighted his positive attributes and unmatched skills.
He pleasured you for his own pleasure. 
And he knew that he might not be the only one in your life now, but nothing would stop him from trying to be the best.
As Jake’s tongue danced across your folds, each flicker ignited a wave of ecstasy that coursed through you, your body trembling as you struggled to keep it as quiet as possible, your knuckles turning white as you held on tight on the desk’s edge.
You could feel the heat radiating off him, littening you up with raw desire as you lost your ability to think straight. You found yourself surrendering completely to the bliss Jake offered, unable to control your sounds, let alone your own body from seeking for more as you pushed your hips back.
“God, Jake…” you gasped, your breath hitching as he licked and sucked with a fervor that made your knees weak. “Just like that. Don’t stop. You’re so fucking good–”
Encouraged by your moans and your praise, Jake increased the pressure of his mouth, groaning against your cunt as his hands gripped your hips to hold you steady, letting himself get lost in the taste of you.
The voice inside his read evoked the thought you weren’t fully his yet, so with every flick of his tongue Jake memorized your responses and reactions, the little sounds that escaped your lips and your skin prickled under his precise touch fueling his desire to give you more and more.
He wished for your taste to linger longer on his tongue, keeping vivid the feeling of having you in such intimacy, but it was undeniable that reality would eventually knock.
On the other hand, your mind was blank and could feel the tension building within you, your core tightening as you realized you were teetering near to the edge already. It was a delicious struggle between desire and restraint, your body begging for release, but your mind reminding you Jake was right behind you, probably eager for his own climax as well.
“Jake,” you breathed, your voice a mix of desperation and longing. For seconds you wondered where the innocent, clumsy and nerd-look-alike Jake you knew was at that moment, as the lewd slurping sounds filled your ears. “I need you. Now.”
Jake didn’t stop, though, diving deeper, keeping on forcing you to step near the verge of your climax. He wanted you to cum all over his mouth. He needed to taste you.
“Jake,” you called again within a loud moan that got you covering your lips right away. “Please–” You pleaded, rolling your eyes, finding it difficult to keep steady, your knees faltering, your pussy clenching around his tongue.
Your hands made a mess with the papers sprawled on your desk, knocking down some random things in the process.
“I want your dick, Jake,” you whimpered, trying to sound as firm as you could, “I wanna you to fuck me, please–” You whispered, almost sounding like a whine and a cry.
Just then Jake finally snapped out of his bliss and gave a last kiss on your glistening cunt before standing up. He paused for a brief moment, eyes dark with lust as he pulled back slightly to take in the sight of you; your body trembling from his efforts, part of your juices dripping on your exposed legs, your whole back in full display for him.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” Jake murmured, his voice husky and thick with desire. “I want to make you feel this good, all the time,” he said, determination and passion blended perfectly together as his hands caressed your sides with a softness that contradicted the abuse he was doing on your pussy.
“Make me feel better now, Jake,” you waved your hips a little, provoking. “Just fuck me, yeah?” 
During agonizing seconds, all you heard was the noises of Jake unbuckling his belt and his zipper going down, mingled with the sound of his ragged breath. You controlled the urge of looking back, too weak to do anything other than support yourself on the table and wait.
“Can I?” He asked softly, pulling you by the waist with one hand while the other held his own dick, until it pressed against your wet entrance.
“No need to ask,” you answered, mirroring his tone, although the anticipation grew within your chest.
Jake’s hand grabbed your hip to maintain your steadiness as he forced himself inside, your head dropped forward and your mouth fell open with the raw feeling of Jake entering you. 
“Damn, you feel incredible,” he whispered in amusement. It felt way better than any dream he ever had. 
With your warm walls tightened around him, Jake’s composure slipped away and he began to move, each thrust deliberate and deep, designed to send you into a haze of ecstasy. He had one palm still holding you in order to pull you by the waist while pushing deep, and the other slightly pressed on your back, either to support himself and also to keep you in position.
You rolled your eyes, your hands crumpling the papers on your desk trying to ground yourself, giving no care about its importance.
The world outside faded away, you nearly forgot you were fucking during working time and, mainly, under the company’s rules and ceiling as Jake’s thrusts grew faster, more frantic; he chased his own pleasure while desperately trying to push you over the edge, the slap noises filled the room together with your heavy breaths and moans.
“F–fuck– You’re hitting– deep– So deep–” Your voice was being cut by each hard slam of Jake’s hip against yours. “So fucking good,” you whimpered and arched your back when he hit your spot straight.
“You like that?” Jake asked, proud of being the one who received such praises from you. “Please, tell me you want me,” he pleaded, feeling his abdomen flexing with his orgasm getting near.
“I want you–” You urged to say, your climax building up on your core and your pussy clenching involuntary. Jake groaned. “I want you, Jake, please–” 
Jake kept on hitting you with a constancy that felt unbearably good. In that moment, everything else fell away – the meetings, the deadlines, the moral dilemmas. All you felt was the strong wave of pleasure rushing over every inch of your body, as you trembled and nearly cried in a last moan, coming all over Jake’s length.
“Fuck–” You hissed when Jake kept on going, driving your through your high before pulling out and jerking himself off. You were panting when you turned to shameless watch his hand speeding on his dick covered with your cum, the lascivious, wet sounds making you quiver, his arm’s popped veins making the view way too devilish. 
You bit your lip, knees failing to keep you correctly straightened up but you sustained yourself in the desk behind you.
“You’re so good, Jake. Always so good, always making me proud,” you said between heavy breaths, eliciting a guttural groan from Jake that you feared someone heard, his head throwing back, exposing his perfect neck to you.
Jake was unable to describe properly the jolt of electricity that ran through his body after hearing your words, spilling his cum forward, hitting your arm and part of your table. 
“Shit…” He whispered, eyes fluttering open while he struggled to breath. His gaze drifted to your desk. “I’m sorry,” he murmured as he got closer, using his clean hand to hold your waist as he placed a soft kiss on your mouth.
You didn’t understand at first what he meant, too lost in your bliss, but after you both cleaned up, you realized how messy in many, too many nuances – your desk was and understood why Jake was sorry for.
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You had made your decision even before your night with Heeseung and your wild time with Jake. 
With Heeseung, it felt like it just naturally happened – and you didn’t regret any second. For Jake, it was something similar to an equality, giving them both the same treatment and chance. And again, you didn’t regret it. 
Your feelings for them were as clear as crystal water, each reflecting a different and unique facet of your heart. Each moment you shared together was filled with affection, desire, passion, and it drew you stronger into connecting yourself with Heeseung and Jake.
You spent days in deep contemplation, analyzing how your body reacted during every interaction – the way your pulse quickened with each lingering glance, how your cheeks warmed from the softest, lightest brush of hands, and how your inner core felt electrified after every encounter.
You tried to measure, but it was so obvious – and at no moment you tried to fight against it.
Consequently, it was relatively easy to invite them into your office for a personal conversation, where you felt no fear regarding your feelings, but were uncertain about how Jake and Heeseung would react to your decision.
“This is not the appropriate setting, but I feel like it’s our setting,” you began, your voice steady to express your certainty. This time, you held a sweet, softened gaze that darted between Heeseung and Jake, lingering not long enough in each of their tensed faces.
They were completely aware about the reason behind your gathering, their breaths coming heavy, throat dry, fingers fidgeting… You noticed each anxious demeanor. Your heart tightened, because you would never intend to make them feel bad. 
“I called you both here because…” 
You took a moment to find the right words, the same you sculpted during days in the back of your mind, now running away from your mouth.
But there was no doubt, because at some point, you questioned yourself.
If love was a battlefield…
“I’m not choosing.”
Could there be more than one winner? 
“Not between you two.”
[BONUS SCENE]
“Heeseung, please, stop chasing after Layla,” Jake rolled his eyes, a hint of exasperation in his voice while you chuckled, taking a bite of your ice cream. “You’re scaring her.”
It was a sunny Sunday afternoon and you had decided to take a peaceful walk with your, now, two boyfriends and Layla, Jake’s adorable dog. At some point you started to feel a bit tired, and opted to sit down on a bench with Jake while Heeseung continued to expend Layla’s energy, playing with her nearby.
“She’s literally smiling, Jake,” Heeseung shot back with a glance, though his smile betrayed his faux annoyed facade. He knelt next to Layla, gently stroking her fluffy fur and murmuring sweet nothings with a baby voice while nodding. “Isn’t that right, girl?”
“You’re just jealous because she likes Heeseung more than she likes you,” you teased Jake, trying to contain your laughter at his instant reaction. Jake blinked flabbergasted at your words before he pouted.
“Don’t ever say that again,” he muttered in a whine, feigning an anger that never really matched his energy. His facade quickly fell as he pulled you closer to kiss your cheek.
You giggled, melting into a shy mess when Jake began planting kisses along your neck too, the sound drawing Heeseung’s attention.
He stood up, holding Layla’s leash with a playful tilt of his head. The ghost of a smile lingered on his lips before he pouted dramatically. “I can’t believe I’m witnessing my girlfriend and my friend enjoying themselves without considering my presence,” Heeseung said as he slid into the empty seat on your left, planting a sweet kiss on your other cheek.
Just like that, it started a playful competition between the two of them, each trying to elicit a laugh or a shout of “stop” from you first. All you could do was giggle and squirm, drowning in the warm sensation blooming in your chest and the delightful tingling on each side of your neck as Heeseung and Jake silently agreed to tease you mercilessly.
You couldn’t help but be amused at how effortlessly Heeseung and Jake had adapted to this unconventional relationship. Everything had fallen into place, and you finally had an answer to the question that had lingered in your mind when you decided to take a step further.
Yes, two people can definitely win a love battle.
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sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 2 months ago
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𝑺𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴? 𝑶𝒓 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎? (Kinktober special) (J.M)
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⤷Credits: Pinterest
Pornstar!Joel Miller x F!Reader | WC : 9.4k | Proof Read : YES | Navigation | Notifications | Kinktober Request list | Kinktober Masterlist | asks : OPEN
Summary: He hunts you through the shadows, every sick, voyeuristic moment immortalized on camera. But it's not just fear coursing through you—your most depraved desires awaken when he finally closes in and takes what he's been watching from afar.
Warnings : dub-con themes, making of porn, voyeurism (making porn and having sex for an audience), toys, role-playing, stalking, power dynamics, cat and chase, spanking choking, knife play, manhandling, praise, dirty talk, degrading, oral M!, breeding kink, fear, mask kink, VERY ROUGH, KINKY AND DARK
A/N: When I say this has been sitting in my drafts for a LONGGG TIME, I'm not lying. I loved this idea, and I hope you guys love it just as much. Thank you so much to my lovely mutuals who listened to me yap and yap about this for almost two months. I'm so sorry I haven't been active. I'm a teaching assistant, and life is wild.
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You stood in the kitchen, trying hard not to glance at the camera perched atop the microwave. Its red recording light blinked steadily, reminding you that every move, every breath, was being captured. The sound of popcorn popping on the stove filled the silence of the house, a comforting rhythm in the eerie stillness. The blue tint of the night, barely enough to see by, blended with the dim candlelight scattered around the room, creating a shadowy, unsettling atmosphere. It was the perfect setting for what was about to go down, and you had to keep your composure, fighting back the grin that threatened to spread across your lips.
This wasn’t just any night. This was the fall special for Sinning Sinners, the site that you and Joel had built from the ground up. It wasn’t your usual shoot where you’d just pull out a camera, fuck each other’s brains out, and call it a day. No, this was something more—something you both lived for, something that had become a tradition, an annual ritual that made your fans lose their fucking minds. Every fall, you and Joel took things up a notch, diving headfirst into the darker, kinkier side of your fantasies. It wasn’t just about sex; it was about pushing boundaries, about blending fear and desire until the line between them blurred into something that made your audience addicted.
Last year, you’d done a haunted corn maze, where Joel had fucked you right in the middle of it, surrounded by the rustling stalks and the cool night air. You could still feel the roughness of the corn beneath your hands, still hear the way you’d moaned like a slut as Joel took you in that eerie, isolated field. The memory alone made heat pool between your legs, a filthy reminder of how wild it had been, how much your fans had eaten it up. They’d gone crazy for it, the combination of fear and lust driving them to hit replay again and again. That’s what Sinning Sinners was all about—giving them something they couldn’t get anywhere else, something that made them come back for more, desperate for whatever twisted shit you and Joel would come up with next.
It had started with a late-night viewing of Scream. The room was dark except for the flickering light of the TV, casting eerie shadows across Joel’s face as you watched the familiar scenes unfold. You’d both seen it countless times, but something about that night felt different—charged. Joel’s hand rested on your thigh, his grip tightening with every kill, every chase, his eyes never leaving the screen.
When the credits rolled, he turned to you, his expression unreadable for a moment before that spark of twisted inspiration flickered in his eyes. “You know,” he started, his voice low and deliberate, “we’ve never done anything with Ghostface before.” There was a pause, the air between you thick with the weight of his words. “What if…this year, we take it further? Darker, dirtier. You could be the clueless victim, and I could be him. Stalking you, making you wait until I’m ready to strike.”
The second he mentioned it, your heart skipped a beat, excitement rushing through your veins. You could picture it already—Joel in the mask, his voice taunting you through the fabric, the thrill of being hunted, knowing what was coming but not when. It was perfect. The embodiment of fear and lust, wrapped in a twisted, beautiful package
The house was quiet, save for the rhythmic popping of kernels on the stove. You focused on the mundane task, pouring the popcorn into a bowl as the salty scent filled the air, trying to keep your cool. But it wasn’t easy. The night was thick with tension, the kind you could almost taste, like the first touch of a lover’s hand. You knew Joel was out there, somewhere in the darkness, watching you with those predatory eyes, waiting for his cue. It was all part of the game—the unspoken thrill of knowing you were being hunted, of playing dumb when you were anything but.
You bit your lip, fighting the urge to glance out the window. You’d agreed not to look, not to break character, even though every instinct screamed at you to check, to catch a glimpse of him lurking in the shadows. Instead, you turned your attention to the DVD shelf, your fingers brushing over the spines of the old horror movies. The camera, placed discreetly beside it, was rolling, capturing the subtle tremor in your hands, the way your breath hitched when you thought about what was coming. You grabbed a classic—something with blood, screams, and just the right amount of tension—and turned your back to the camera, giving the viewers a perfect shot of the darkened window behind you. They’d be watching, waiting, knowing exactly what was coming even if you were supposed to be oblivious.
You carried the bowl and the DVD down the hallway, the soft creak of the floorboards beneath your feet adding to the tension. The house felt alive, every shadow shifting as you passed as if it were in on the game. Your thoughts wandered to what was waiting in the bedroom, not just the TV and blankets, but also the props and toys you’d stashed away earlier. A black silk blindfold, a sleek vibrator, a collection of menacingly gleaming, faux weapons—everything was set, just in case things took a darker turn. The details mattered, after all.They were what made Sinning Sinners so addictive. The unpredictability, the raw, unfiltered lust that seeped into every frame, every shot. You never planned the sex, only the build-up—the suspense, the tension that made it all so fucking good.
You reached your bedroom, setting the DVD case on the dresser before catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You paused, taking in the reflection—a girl who looked sweet and innocent, but whose eyes held darker secrets. The oversized Scream shirt you wore hung just low enough to brush the tops of your thighs, barely covering the black lace panties beneath. It was the perfect look for what was coming next, just enough innocence to make the chase all the more thrilling.
You reached your bedroom, setting the DVD case on the dresser before catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You paused, taking in the reflection—a girl who looked sweet and innocent, but whose eyes held darker secrets. The oversized Scream shirt you wore hung just low enough to brush the tops of your thighs, barely covering the black lace panties beneath. It was the perfect look for what was coming next, just enough innocence to make the chase all the more thrilling.
You grabbed the old-school camera from the nightstand, the one you loved for its Y2K aesthetic, and snapped a quick photo. The flash momentarily blinded you, and you knew this shot would have to be carefully edited out of the final cut, but when your vision cleared, the result was exactly what you wanted. A keepsake, a little reminder of the night and the game you were about to play.
Finally, you settled into bed, propping yourself up against the pillows as the movie started to play. The flickering light from the TV cast eerie shadows across the room, heightening the tension. You let yourself get lost in it for a moment, the familiar scenes of blood and screams playing out on the screen, a reflection of the chaos that would soon unfold in your own home. But your mind wasn’t on the movie. It was on Joel, on the darkness creeping closer, on the game you’d both set in motion.
And then, you heard it—a faint creak, barely audible over the sound of the movie. But it was enough. Your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat as you strained to listen. Another sound followed, this one more distinct, coming from the living room. The cue. It was time.
You slid out of bed, the cool air kissing your bare legs as you padded toward the door. Every step was deliberate, every movement calculated to match the growing tension. You were supposed to be scared, after all. You were supposed to be the clueless girl in the horror movie, the one who heard a noise and just had to investigate. It was cliché, but that was the point. The audience would be yelling at their screens, telling you to stay put, but you knew better. You knew exactly what was coming.
The living room was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the floor as you slowly entered. The popcorn bowl from earlier sat untouched on your dresser, a silent reminder of the night’s buildup. Your eyes drifted to the window, where the curtains fluttered ever so slightly, caught by a breeze you hadn’t noticed before. You tried to ignore the unsettling chill that crept up your spine, but you couldn’t help but notice the faint movement just outside—a hint of something, or someone, lurking in the darkness.
But you felt it. You felt him.
You took a hesitant step forward, your eyes scanning the room as if you were searching for the source of the sound. The anticipation was electric, sending shivers down your spine. Then, from the corner of your eye, you saw it—the flicker of movement, the unmistakable shape of a figure slipping into the room. You turned, just in time to see him, clad in black, the Ghostface mask gleaming in the dim light.
Your heart leaped into your throat as he lunged at you. You yelped, more out of excitement than fear, and bolted toward the kitchen. Your bare feet slapped against the hardwood as you ran, the thrill of the chase making your pulse race. You knew he was right behind you, could feel his presence like a shadow closing in.
The kitchen was dark, lit only by the faint glow of candles. You skidded to a stop, chest heaving as you spun around to face him. There he was, just a few feet away, the knife in his hand catching the light as he approached. The sight of him, the menace in his slow, deliberate steps, sent a delicious thrill through you.
You backed up against the counter, feeling the cool edge press into your lower back as Joel closed in on you. The Ghostface mask obscured his face, but you knew his eyes were locked on you, hungry, predatory. The thrill of the chase had your heart racing, adrenaline and desire blending into a heady mix that made your skin tingle. You watched as he glanced around the kitchen, his gaze settling on the knife block just within arm’s reach. He didn’t have a weapon with him—of course, he didn’t—but now, as his gloved hand wrapped around the handle of a large kitchen knife, the game took on a sharper, more dangerous edge.
Your breath hitched as he raised the knife, its gleaming blade catching the candlelight. For a split second, you were frozen, caught between the rush of fear and the wave of arousal that flooded your senses. This was what you craved—the danger, the tension, the feeling of being completely at someone else’s mercy. But you weren’t ready to give in just yet.
In a sudden burst of movement, you lifted your foot and stomped down hard on his, the force of it catching him by surprise. Joel grunted, the sound muffled by the mask, and his grip on the knife faltered just enough for you to slip past him. You bolted for the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest as you sprinted toward the bedroom, the thrill of the escape making you lightheaded. You could hear him behind you, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet house, getting closer with every second.
You burst into the bedroom and slammed the door behind you, but it barely slowed him down. You knew he was right there, just a heartbeat away. You stumbled back, your legs shaky from the rush, and tripped over the edge of the rug. You went down hard, knees hitting the floor with a jolt of pain that only added to the intensity of the moment. The door crashed open, and there he was, looming in the doorway, the knife still clutched in his hand.
“Please, mister Ghostface,” you whimpered, crawling backward as he advanced on you. “Don’t kill me. I’ll do anything.”
The words tumbled out of your mouth, breathless, desperate, exactly what he wanted to hear. You were playing your role to perfection, the terrified victim begging for her life, but beneath the surface, you were buzzing with anticipation. You knew the script—you knew he wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t break character. The silence was part of the game, part of what made it so thrilling. It kept you on edge, never knowing what he’d do next, never knowing when he’d strike.
You tried to crawl away, but you were trembling too much, your movements slow, uncoordinated. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, the pulse of arousal matching the rhythm of your pounding heart. You knew you should be scared, terrified even, but all you could think about was how fucking turned on you were. Every time you glanced up at that mask, and saw the cold, expressionless eyes staring down at you, it sent another wave of desire crashing through you.
Your hands slipped on the floor as you tried to scramble to your feet, but before you could get far, he was on you. Joel’s hand shot out, grabbing your ankle and dragging you back toward him. You yelped, twisting in his grip, but it was useless. You were caught, and you both knew it. You fell back onto your knees, breath coming in ragged gasps as you looked up at him, eyes wide, pleading.
Your breath came in ragged gasps as you looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. The air between you was thick with tension, every nerve in your body screaming with anticipation. You knew what was coming, and yet the thrill of it sent shivers down your spine. The Ghostface mask stared back at you, cold and unfeeling, but you knew Joel was beneath it, knew he was savoring this moment as much as you were. The thought made your pulse quicken, the heat between your legs growing more intense with every passing second.
Joel’s grip on your ankle was firm and possessive, and you could feel the strength in his hand as he slowly, deliberately pulled you closer. You tried to resist, to put up a token fight, but it was half-hearted at best. Deep down, you wanted this—wanted him to overpower you, to take control. The struggle only heightened your desire, making your skin tingle with excitement as you were dragged back across the floor.
His gloved hand trailed up your leg, rough leather brushing against your sensitive skin, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. You bit your lip, stifling a moan as his touch grew more suggestive, his fingers grazing the hem of your panties. The sensation was maddening, a teasing reminder of what you craved, what you’d been waiting for all night. You arched your back slightly, pushing into his touch, silently begging for more, but he didn’t give in—not yet.
Instead, he took his time, savoring your helplessness, the way you trembled beneath him. His other hand found its way to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh just enough to make you squirm. He held you there, pinned in place, and the dominance in his grip made your breath hitch, a sharp intake of air that only made you feel more vulnerable, more at his mercy. The knife, still clutched in his other hand, gleamed ominously in the dim light, a silent reminder of the power he held over you.
With a sudden, forceful motion, Joel lifted you by your hips, his strength taking you by surprise as he hoisted you onto the bed. You let out a gasp as your body was flipped, your stomach pressed against the mattress, your ass in the air. The position left you exposed, and vulnerable, and the cool air on your bare skin only heightened the sensation. Your panties clung to you, soaked through with arousal, and the thought of him seeing you like this—desperate, needy—sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.
You turned your head to look back at him, the mask still hiding his face, but you knew what was behind it. You knew the look in his eyes, the hunger, the need. It made your heart race, made you want to push him further, to see just how far he’d take it. A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, a hint of defiance in your gaze as you wiggled your hips slightly, teasing him, challenging him.
“What’s the matter, Ghostface?” you taunted, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “You gonna make me beg for it?”
The tension in the room crackled like electricity, your words hanging in the air, daring him to react. You could feel the heat of his stare through the mask, the way his breathing had grown heavier, more deliberate. You were pushing your luck, and you knew it, but that was half the fun. You wanted to see just how far you could go, how much you could provoke him before he snapped.
Joel’s hand tightened on your waist, fingers digging in harder, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that slipped from your lips. The sting of it, the roughness, only added to the ache between your legs, made you grind against the bed in a futile attempt to relieve the pressure building inside you. You wanted him—wanted him to take you, to claim you, to make you his. But he didn’t move, didn’t give you what you were silently pleading for.
Instead, he leaned in close, the knife gliding along the curve of your ass, cold metal sending chills down your spine. You shivered, the sensation both terrifying and thrilling, the line between fear and desire blurring even further. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you—knew this was all part of the game—but that didn’t stop your heart from racing, didn’t stop the pulse of arousal that throbbed between your thighs.
But when he finally spoke, it wasn’t with words. It was with action. His hand left your waist and came down hard on your ass, the sharp smack of it echoing through the room. You gasped, the sudden pain mingling with pleasure, leaving you breathless. It was exactly what you’d been waiting for, that rough, unyielding touch that reminded you who was in control. Your bratty defiance melted away, replaced by a desperate need to please him, to be good for him.
The weight of the bed shifted beneath you, the mattress dipping slightly as Joel moved. You could feel his presence hovering behind you, the tension crackling in the air like a live wire. The anticipation was unbearable, your body thrumming with a desperate need for him. You knew what was coming, could sense the change in the atmosphere, the way the game was evolving into something even more intense.
You closed your eyes, biting your lip as you tried to focus on the sensations coursing through you. The sound of fabric rustling behind you sent a shiver down your spine, the unmistakable sign that Joel was shedding his clothes, leaving only the mask to maintain the illusion. Your heart raced at the thought, your imagination running wild with what he’d do next, how he’d use that control to push you to your limits.
The bed shifted again, and you felt his hands on your hips, rough and demanding as he flipped you over onto your back. Your eyes fluttered open, immediately locking onto the masked face hovering above you. The sight was both terrifying and exhilarating, that blank, soulless expression sending a rush of adrenaline through your veins. The contrast between the mask and the naked body beneath it was a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play, the thrill of surrendering to something dark and unknown.
Before you could react, his hand was on your throat, fingers wrapping around your neck with a possessive grip that made your breath catch. The pressure wasn’t enough to hurt, but it was enough to send a clear message—one of dominance, of control. Your pulse quickened, the thrum of it vibrating against his palm as he leaned in closer, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.
His other hand moved to your mouth, a single finger pressing against your lips in a silent command to stay quiet. The shh motion was simple, but the intensity behind it made your stomach twist with excitement. He didn’t need to speak; his actions said everything, and you were more than willing to follow his lead. You were completely at his mercy, and the thought of what he might do next made your body hum with anticipation.
Your thoughts spiraled in a chaotic mix of desire and anticipation, each passing second tightening the knot of tension inside you. Pinned beneath Joel’s weight, you could feel every beat of his heart, every rise and fall of his chest as he loomed over you, the room closing in, suffocating you in the intensity of the moment. Each breath felt heavier, every second stretching out, the silence amplifying the raw need that pulsed between you like a live wire. Your mind raced, imagining all the ways he might break you—would he drag it out, tease you until you were trembling and desperate, or would he take what he wanted in that dark, primal way that left you aching for more? The uncertainty was maddening, fueling the fire that burned hotter with every second, leaving you trembling beneath him, craving whatever came next.
His hand lingered on your throat, the pressure a warning, a promise of what was to come. But then it shifted, slipping away only to tangle roughly in your hair, yanking your head back with a sharp tug that sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You gasped, the sting of it igniting something deep inside you, a spark that fanned into a wildfire. His grip tightened, possessive, commanding, and it made your blood hum with anticipation. But before you could even think to protest, to utter a single word, his other hand cracked across your cheek with a sharp, stinging slap. The sound echoed through the room, mingling with your ragged breath, the pain mingling with the heat pooling low in your belly, your body instinctively arching toward him, craving more.
You whimpered, the sound breaking free before you could stop it, a desperate little plea that hung in the air between you. But before you could say more, Joel brought a finger to his lips, signaling you to stay silent. The power in that small gesture sent a shiver down your spine, making you bite down on your lower lip to keep from crying out again. Your mind scrambled, caught between the urge to obey and the desire to push him, to see just how far he’d go to enforce that command.
“Please…,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath, the word laced with the need clawing at you from the inside. “Please, I need—”
His hand snapped out, pressing against your mouth in a firm, silencing grip. The warning was clear: no more words. The message sent a rush of heat straight to your core, leaving you trembling beneath him, your breath hitching as the tension wound tighter. The edge of danger, the unknown, had you teetering on the brink, each second a delicious torture.
His grip on your hair tightened, forcing your head back further, exposing your neck as his hand slid down from your cheek to wrap around your throat again, squeezing just enough to keep you on edge, to remind you who was in control. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the hardness pressing against your thigh, a silent promise of what was to come. When he finally released you, your lips parted on their own, eager and ready, a silent invitation, your body screaming for him, for the release only he could give.
Joel didn’t waste a second. The urgency in his movements was palpable as he shoved his pants down just enough to free himself. Your eyes widened at the sight of him—thick, veined, and already slick with precum. It stood proud and heavy, the tip flushed a deep, angry red, a testament to how badly he needed this, how badly he needed you. The sight of it made your mouth water, every nerve in your body singing with the anticipation of what was coming next. He didn’t bother with teasing, didn’t ease you into it. No, he was done with patience.
With a rough tug on your hair, he pulled your head down, forcing your mouth open as he guided the head of his cock to your lips. The taste of salt hit your tongue, heady and intoxicating, and you opened wider, welcoming him in. He pushed forward, the thick head sliding past your lips, inch by inch, stretching your mouth in the most delicious way. There was no gentleness, no care in his movements—he took what he wanted, and you let him, relishing the way he filled you, the way his cock slid deeper, hitting the back of your throat with a force that made you gag, your eyes watering.
But you didn’t pull back. You leaned into it, taking him as far as you could, the taste of him filling your senses. His hips rocked forward with a steady rhythm, his grip in your hair unyielding as he held you in place, his breathing ragged, chest heaving. Every thrust sent a jolt through you, the sound of your gagging, the wet, vulgar noises your mouth made as it worked around him echoing in the small room. Your hands found his thighs, nails digging in, desperate for something to hold onto as you tried to keep up with the pace he set. You could feel him trembling, his breath hitching as he fucked your mouth, each thrust harder than the last, pushing you to your limits.
Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, when the burn in your throat became too much, he pulled out abruptly, leaving you gasping for air, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. But there was no reprieve. Joel spun you around, flipping you onto your back with a force that left you breathless, your head spinning. The bed creaked beneath you as he grabbed your hips, lifting you up and positioning you exactly how he wanted—bent over the edge of the bed, your ass in the air, your face pressed into the cool sheets. The position was humiliating and degrading, and it only made you want him more. You could feel the bruises forming where his fingers dug into your skin, the pain a sharp contrast to the pleasure that thrummed through you, making your body tremble with need.
He wasted no time, no gentle caress—just pure, unfiltered need. His cock nudged against your entrance, the wetness there making it easy for him to slide in. The stretch was exquisite, each inch of him filling you in a way that made your toes curl, your back arching as you tried to take more, to feel more. He went slow at first, almost teasing, just enough to drive you crazy, to make you desperate. But the patience didn’t last. Joel wasn’t in the mood for slow.
With a growl, he grabbed your legs, yanking them together at the knees, binding them tightly with the rope he had stashed nearby. The sensation of being bound, completely at his mercy, made your head spin, your thoughts blurring with the intensity of it. You whimpered into the pillow, your voice muffled, but he didn’t care. His hands slid up your sides, his touch firm, and possessive, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You could barely breathe, the weight of him pressing down on you, the way he filled you so completely making it hard to think, hard to focus on anything but the overwhelming need to be fucked, to be owned.
“Please…” The word slipped out, barely a whisper, but he heard it. He heard the desperation, the plea, and it only made him smirk. His fingers found your lips, pressing against them in a silent command for silence, a reminder that you were his to control, to take.
And take he did.
He thrust into you hard, his hips snapping forward with a force that made the bed creak beneath you. The angle was different now, deeper, more intense, each thrust hitting a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. You could feel every inch of him, the way he pulsed inside you, the way his cock twitched with every movement. He leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, the heat of his body wrapping around you, suffocating in the most delicious way. The weight of him, the sheer power behind each thrust, made it hard to breathe, hard to think. But you didn’t care. You didn’t need to think. All you needed was him, and he gave it to you—hard and unrelenting.
His grip on your arms tightened, holding you in place as he started to pound into you, each thrust harder than the last, driving you into the mattress with a force that left you breathless. The bed shook with the intensity of it, your body jerking with each movement, your mind going blank as you surrendered to the rhythm he set, the brutal, unforgiving pace that had you on the edge of oblivion. The mix of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, your senses overloaded, your thoughts reduced to a single, all-consuming need. More. You needed more.
At some point, he reached up, and grabbed your hair again, yanking your head back so he could take a picture with the camera perched nearby. The flash went off, a quick burst of light that left you momentarily blinded, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was the way his cock felt inside you, the way his movements became more erratic, more desperate as he neared his release. The tension in the air was thick, suffocating, each thrust sending you closer to the edge, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly, ready to snap.
And then it did.
With one final, brutal thrust, Joel slammed into you, burying himself deep as he came, the hot rush of his seed flooding you, marking you as his. Your body responded instinctively, clenching around him, milking every last drop as a moan tore from your lips, muffled against the mattress. The orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you trembling and breathless, your mind wiped clean by the sheer intensity of it.
He stayed there for a moment, his breath heavy and labored, his body pressed firmly against yours, the heat of him enveloping you like a suffocating blanket. The world felt distant, the only reality was the sensation of him inside you, the raw, primal connection that had just played out between you. And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. Joel pulled out, the sudden emptiness making you shudder, your body still quivering from the aftershocks, your mind struggling to piece together what had just transpired.
The weight of Joel’s body finally lifted as he pushed himself up, his chest rising and falling with ragged, labored breaths. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the heavy panting, the bed creaking softly beneath you both as the raw intensity of what had just happened lingered in the air like a living thing. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the slick sheen of sweat clinging to him, his hands still trembling slightly as he reached up to remove the mask.
Slowly, Joel peeled off the Ghostface mask, revealing his flushed, sweat-slicked face beneath. His hair was damp, clinging to his forehead in dark, messy strands, and his eyes—those dark, intense eyes—were still clouded with the remnants of desire. The sight of him, so raw and exposed, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your body instinctively responding to the primal energy he exuded. Even after everything, he still looked insatiable—like he could take more, give more, his hunger a tangible force that hung in the air between you, making you ache all over again.
Joel let out a long, satisfied breath, his half-smirk teasing as he shook his head. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and deep, the rasp of it crawling down your spine. “We’re done, sweetheart. Scene’s over.”
You laughed, soft and breathless, your body still humming from the intensity of what had just happened. “That was fucking intense,” you managed to say, your voice thick with exhaustion and satisfaction, your muscles still quivering in the aftermath.
Joel chuckled, the sound deep and rich, as he ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead. He leaned against the headboard, a low groan escaping him as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m telling you, baby,” he said with a smirk, his voice still ragged from exertion. “I’m fifty-six fuckin’ years old. Keep this up, and I might need a vasectomy just to survive.”
You snorted, the sound muffled by the pillow as you turned your head, grinning at him. “Maybe you should consider it,” you teased, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “But then again, where’s the fun in that? I’d miss all that old man cum you’re so damn good at shooting.”
Joel rolled his eyes, his breath still uneven, but his lips quirked up in amusement. “Right,” he drawled, his voice dry as ever. “That’s definitely what you’d miss most.”
You shrugged, the banter lightening the air between you. But even as the playful words filled the space, your gaze was drawn back to him—the way sweat still glistened on his skin, the flush across his cheeks, the steady rise and fall of his chest. His body was like a furnace, radiating heat that pulled you in, and despite the teasing, you could feel the tension building again, that familiar hunger stirring deep within you.
God, his age did something to you. There was something undeniably sexy about the way he carried himself, the way experience was etched into every line on his rugged face, in every confident movement. Joel knew exactly how to touch you, how to push you past your limits and pull you back just before you fell over the edge. The years had only made him more magnetic, the broad expanse of his chest, the strength in his arms, the silver at his temples—every mark of time made him even more devastatingly irresistible. He wasn’t some boy fumbling his way through; he was all man, and that raw masculinity turned you on in ways you couldn’t even fully explain.
Your teeth sank into your lower lip as you took him in, your eyes tracing the rough stubble along his jaw, the beads of sweat clinging to his skin, the slow rhythm of his breathing as he began to recover. The thought of what he was capable of, what he had already done to you, sent a fresh surge of heat flooding your core. Your body was already aching for more, the desire rekindled like an unquenchable fire, burning hotter with every glance.
Without thinking, you shifted closer, your hand trailing down his chest, the hard muscle flexing beneath your fingertips. His breath hitched at the contact, his body tensing beneath your touch. You leaned in, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper as your lips hovered near his ear. “You know, Joel,” you purred, your tone dripping with want, “it’s fucking hot that you can still fuck me like this. Fifty-six and still going strong? That’s a serious turn-on.”
His eyes darkened instantly, the playful amusement giving way to something more dangerous, more primal. “You think so?” he murmured, his voice rough and gravelly, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “You like fucking an old man, huh?”
“Love it,” you whispered, your hand sliding lower, teasing the waistband of his pants. “You’ve got experience, you know exactly what you’re doing, and it’s sexy as hell.”
The tension between you thickened, the air charged with electricity. The teasing words from earlier faded into the background as that insatiable hunger flared up again, demanding attention. Without another word, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a rough, heated kiss. The taste of his sweat lingered on your tongue, mingling with the musk of sex still clinging to his skin. The kiss was intense, a clash of teeth and tongues, the kind that left bruises and made you ache for more.
Joel responded instantly, his mouth claiming yours with a raw hunger that left you breathless. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you. The heat of him pressed against you, reigniting that fire burning in your belly, a fire that demanded to be fed.
You pulled back just enough to grab the Ghostface mask, your fingers brushing against the cool plastic as you lifted it from his lap. You held it up, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you looked at him, your lips curving into a playful smirk. “My turn?”
Joel raised an eyebrow, a slow, crooked grin spreading across his face as he leaned back against the bed, clearly amused. “You sure you can handle it, Ghostface?” His voice was thick with anticipation, but there was a challenge there too, something dark and thrilling.
You slipped the mask over your head, adjusting it until it fit snugly, the darkness of it shrouding your vision, heightening every sensation. The thrill of the role reversal sent a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and excitement. Through the narrow eyeholes, you could see Joel watching you, his grin widening as he leaned back on the bed, his hands resting behind his head, his gaze trailing over your body.
“Oh, I can handle it,” you purred, your voice muffled and distorted by the mask, but the confidence in your tone was unmistakable. “Question is… can you?”
Joel’s laughter filled the room, a deep, rich sound that made your pulse quicken. “Bring it on, baby,” he challenged, his voice thick with anticipation. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
You didn’t need any more encouragement. With a swift, determined movement, you straddled his hips, the feel of his hard length pressing against your core sending a jolt of desire straight through you. The mask heightened everything—the darkness, the mystery, the anonymity—and it made you feel powerful, dangerous, like you could do anything, take anything.
You ground down against him, teasingly slow, the friction making both of you groan in raw pleasure. “You like this, old man?” you taunted, your voice a low, sultry growl that cut through the room like a blade. “You like it when I’m on top, calling the shots?”
Joel’s fingers dug into your hips, his grip bruising as he tried to take back control, to guide the rhythm, but you weren’t about to let that happen. With a swift motion, you shoved his hands away, reclaiming your dominance with a fierce determination. The heat between your thighs was unbearable, the throbbing of his cock against you making it almost impossible to resist the urge to give in. But you were far from finished.
Straddling him, you felt a surge of power course through you, the mask hiding the wicked smile that curled your lips. “You think just because you’ve got a few years on me, you can control me?” you challenged, your voice muffled by the mask, but the taunting edge in your tone was unmistakable, dripping with dark satisfaction.
Joel's eyes narrowed, the playful gleam in them giving way to something far darker, more intense. His pupils dilated, his gaze locking onto yours with a challenge that made your pulse quicken. “I know I can,” he growled, his voice thick with conviction. In one swift motion, he bucked his hips upward, and the sudden pressure of him—thick and unforgiving—against your core forced a stifled moan from your lips, the sound muffled by the mask. The sensation was electric, the jolt of it spreading through your body, but you were determined not to let him win this round.
The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, your arousal slick and ready, but you held back, savoring the power you had over him in this moment. You leaned forward, your masked face just inches from his, the darkness of the Ghostface mask amplifying the wicked grin spreading across your lips. “You love it when I take charge, don’t you?” you whispered, your voice low and dripping with seductive malice. Your fingers wrapped around his length, feeling the way his cock twitched in your grip, hard and pulsing with need.
He groaned, the sound deep and guttural, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps as you rubbed the tip of him against your slick folds. The tease was torturous—for both of you—but it only fueled the fire burning in your belly. The friction was delicious, sending sparks of pleasure through you, but you held him just at the edge, denying him the satisfaction of slipping inside.
Joel’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck straining as he glared up at you, his chest heaving with barely controlled desire. “You think you’re tough shit, don’t you?” he spat, the challenge in his voice unmistakable. “Playing games with me? You know damn well who’s really in control here.”
Your heart raced, the thrill of his words sending a shiver down your spine. But you weren’t about to back down. The power you felt in this moment was intoxicating, and you reveled in it, letting it wash over you like a drug. You leaned in even closer, the mask brushing against his face, your breath hot and heavy as you whispered, “I’m the one calling the shots tonight, old man. And you’re going to beg for it.”
His breath hitched, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he stared up at you, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. It was a dangerous game you were playing, one that could flip on a dime, but that only made it more exhilarating. Without warning, you sank down on him, taking him in inch by agonizing inch, the stretch of him filling you completely. The sensation was almost too much—your body trembling as you tried to accommodate his size—but you reveled in the delicious torment of it, in the way his eyes widened, his lips parting in a silent groan as he felt you envelope him.
Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat sending a fresh wave of heat through you as you adjusted to the feel of him inside you. The fullness was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that left you breathless. You could feel every inch of him, thick and pulsing, stretching you to your limits, but instead of relenting, you pushed back against the sensation, embracing it, letting it consume you.
Joel’s hands shot to your thighs, his grip bruising as he tried to regain some semblance of control. But you weren’t about to let him. You started to move, your pace slow and torturous at first, dragging out every inch of him until he was panting beneath you, his body straining with the effort to hold back. The power you felt in that moment was intoxicating, a heady mix of control and desire that made your whole body hum with pleasure.
“Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned, his voice strained, his control slipping as you rode him harder, faster. His head fell back against the pillows, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep up with you, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “You’re going to kill me.”
A wicked grin spread across your lips beneath the mask, your own breath coming faster as you leaned in close, your voice dripping with mockery. “Good,” you hissed, your breath hot against his skin, your words cutting like a knife. “I want you to feel every fucking second of this.”
Your pace quickened, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure crashing through you. You could feel him throbbing inside you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, but you were relentless, driving him to the edge, pushing him to the brink until he was gasping for breath, his control hanging by a thread.
But Joel wasn’t one to be outdone. His hands tightened on your hips, his grip ironclad as he suddenly flipped you over, pinning you beneath him with a swift, powerful motion. The loss of control sent a thrill through you, a mix of fear and excitement that made your heart race. The mask slipped slightly, but you didn’t care—you were too far gone, too caught up in the intensity of it all.
“Can’t hear you too well through that mask, baby,” he taunted, his voice low and rough, dripping with a primal need that smoldered between you. It was that shift—how effortlessly he went from serious to sexy, from calm to commanding—that made your heart race. You loved how he could flip the switch so quickly, one moment a stern, unyielding force, the next a devilish tease who knew exactly how to push your buttons. He flashed the safe signal, his eyes locking onto yours, daring you to stop him, but you didn’t even consider it. You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and in that instant, he seized control completely.
Joel didn’t hold back. His thrusts were relentless, each one harder and deeper than the last, pushing you to the brink of madness with every stroke. Your breath came in ragged gasps, the pleasure so intense it danced on the edge of pain, each powerful movement driving you closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The mask you wore muffled your moans, but Joel didn’t need to hear them to know how much you were enjoying this—he could feel it in the way your body clung to his, in the way you tightened around him with every thrust, your nails digging into his back as if trying to anchor yourself amidst the storm of sensation.
“You forget who you’re fucking with,” Joel snarled, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through your very bones. His words were rough, filled with a dark, commanding energy that sent a thrill straight to your core. “I’m not some green kid you can boss around, baby. I’m a grown-ass man, and I know exactly how to make you fucking scream.” The raw authority in his tone was intoxicating, feeding into your desire as he took you to a place where you craved nothing more than to lose control under his relentless dominance.
His words ignited something primal within you, a heady mix of fear and desire that had your heart racing. Before you could respond, he punctuated his declaration with a hard, brutal thrust that tore a cry from your throat, your back arching off the bed as pleasure detonated inside you, leaving you trembling. The power he wielded over you in that moment was absolute, and though part of you wanted to fight back, to reassert your dominance, the larger part of you was helpless under the force of his will.
Joel’s hands were like iron bands around your wrists, pinning them above your head as he took full control, his body a solid, unyielding presence pressing against yours. The heat of his skin, the relentless pace he set—it was all-consuming, overwhelming, leaving you breathless and on the edge of losing yourself completely in the moment. His grip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh just enough to remind you who was in charge, who had the power, and the weight of that realization sent a shiver down your spine.
Without missing a beat, Joel lifted the mask just enough to expose your mouth, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. He needed to hear you, to know that every word, every moan, was uninhibited, unfiltered, and raw. His breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in, his voice a dark, velvety whisper that held a dangerous edge.
“Tell me who you belong to,” he growled, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear in a way that made your entire body tremble. The command in his voice was undeniable, a rough, primal demand that left no room for hesitation. “Say it, baby. Say my fucking name.”
The sound of his voice, so close, so dominant, sent a surge of desire through you, making it impossible to resist. You could feel the tension building, the pressure of his control wrapping around you like a vice, squeezing out every last ounce of resistance. You knew what he wanted to hear, and as the words formed on your lips, the last remnants of your willpower crumbled.
You bit your lip, trying to hold back the flood of words he demanded, but the relentless pressure of his cock, the way he filled you so completely, left you with no choice. The words were ripped from your throat, a desperate, breathless moan. “You,” you gasped, your voice breaking under the strain of it all. “Fuck, Joel, it’s you. All fucking yours.”
The admission seemed to unlock something primal in Joel, an almost feral grin spreading across his face as he looked down at you, eyes dark with possessive intensity. “Damn right,” he growled, the words thick with dominance and a promise that sent a shiver straight through you. His grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your flesh with bruising force as he pulled you closer, driving himself deeper inside you. Each thrust became more erratic, more brutal, as he pushed you both to the brink, his body moving with a relentless, desperate rhythm that left you breathless.
“I’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he rasped, his voice a low, guttural sound that vibrated through your entire body. “Mark you as mine, so you never forget it. So none of them ever forget it.”
It wasn’t just the physical act—Joel loved reminding your viewers and, more importantly, you, exactly who you belonged to, both on and off the camera. His possessiveness was more than just a game; it was a declaration, a brand that he was intent on leaving imprinted on every inch of you. He reveled in the power, in the knowledge that no matter what you showed the world, in the end, you were his. And he wanted everyone to know it—especially you.
His words were the final push you needed, the tipping point that sent you careening over the edge. The coil of tension in your belly tightened impossibly before snapping, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that ripped through your entire being. Your body trembled violently, every muscle tensing as you cried out his name, the sound raw and desperate, echoing in the small space between you.
You felt your walls clench around him, milking him as the pleasure tore through you in relentless waves, each one more powerful than the last. It was overwhelming, an onslaught of sensation so intense it bordered on painful as if every nerve ending had caught fire. Your mind went blank, lost in the haze of ecstasy that consumed you, your vision blurring as your senses overloaded.
But Joel wasn’t done with you. Even as you came, he kept moving, his thrusts relentless, determined to draw every last ounce of pleasure from your body. You were oversensitive, every touch, every movement sending shocks of sensation through you, but there was nothing you could do to stop him, no way to slow the onslaught of pleasure-pain that had you teetering on the edge of sanity.
“Look at you,” Joel taunted, his voice a rough whisper as he watched you come undone beneath him. “Thought you were in control, huh? Thought you could make me beg? Well, baby, it’s you who’s begging now.”
He lifted the mask slightly, just enough to hear you more clearly, to see the desperation in your eyes as he continued to drive into you. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “Tell me what you want,” he commanded, his voice dark and demanding. “Beg for it, baby. Beg for me to cum inside you.”
You could barely form words, your brain fogged by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. But you managed to choke out a reply, your voice shaking with need. “Please, Joel,” you whispered, the desperation in your voice clear. “Fuck, I need you. Please, just… just cum inside me. Fill me up. Please.”
The sound of your pleading pushed Joel over the edge, and with a deep, animalistic growl, he slammed into you one final time. His release was fierce, filling you to the brim, hot and thick, exactly as he promised. It sent you spiraling into another
mind-blowing orgasm, your body locking around him, milking him dry as your walls clenched, squeezing every last drop out of him.
The sound of your pleading seemed to push Joel over the edge. With a low, guttural growl, he thrust into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you as his own orgasm hit, his release hot and overwhelming, filling you up just as he promised. The sensation sent you spiraling into another wave of pleasure, your body tightening around him, milking him for every last drop as you both rode out the aftershocks together.
It was damn near unbelievable how many times he'd come-his stamina, his relentless drive. Joel was fifty-fucking-six, and still, he had you unraveling over and over, your own body shaking with pleasure more times than you could count. The heat between you was addictive, his age only adding to the intensity of it. Most men his age couldn't keep up after one round, but Joel? He fucked like a man half his age, like he had something to prove. And every time he buried himself deep inside you, filling you up again and again, it reminded you exactly who the fuck you belonged to.
The world around you ceased to exist. The only thing that mattered was the primal connection between you, the harsh panting of your breath, the erratic pounding of your heart echoing in your ears. Your bodies were trembling, utterly spent and satisfied beyond words. Joel's weight on top of you was grounding his presence a reminder that this- he-was yours
Finally, he rolled off you, collapsing beside you on the bed, both of you struggling to catch your breath. The mask lay discarded somewhere between you, forgotten in the haze of exhaustion and satisfaction. Joel reached out, pulling you into his arms as you trembled with the aftershocks that still rippled through your body, your muscles twitching with the remnants of pleasure
"Still think you're in charge?" Joel's voice was low, teasing, though his eyes were soft, filled with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.
You didn't have the energy to argue, not after the way he'd fucked you senseless, so you just smiled, curling into his side. Your fingers lazily traced circles on his chest, his skin still warm and slick with sweat. "Maybe we both are," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss against his chest, savoring the salty taste of his skin, the feeling of him still lingering deep inside you.
Joel chuckled, a deep, satisfied rumble that reverberated through his chest. His arms tightened around you, his lips brushing over the top of your head. "Yeah, maybe," he murmured softly. "But don't you forget, baby-you're mine. Always.”
You sighed, your heart swelling with a mix of satisfaction and love, a contentment that only he could bring you. The thrill of what you'd just shared lingered, the intensity of it making your body hum as you drifted off in his arms. No matter how many games you played, how much you teased each other, you knew you'd always come back to this-back to him
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osaemu · 9 months ago
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GOJO SATORU: GUILTY CONSCIENCE
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✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!au: ever since that first night, you can't get him off your mind—and even though you handed him over to law enforcement, it looks like he still wants you too. PART 1 | NSFW
contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, semi-public sex (in a bathroom), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pet names (detective, princess, smart girl, pretty girl, etc.), gojo cums in your mouth. non-sexual threatening. non-sexual usage of knives/guns. more plot than porn. this is not good for you btw !!! 4K words.
author's note: pls appreciate your smut writers bc this shit is hard !!!! the sk!series might be over after this one bc i'm not feeling it anymore, but nothing's set in stone yet. posting this for the ppl who wanted a part two, but personally i would've just left it as a standalone.. oh well, i didn't want 4K words to go to waste, so enjoy 🤍
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“satoru gojo, what are we going to do with you?” your subordinate asks, resting his hands on the table dividing the dim interrogation room in two. you and your coworker sit on one side, facing the serial killer on the other side—who also happens to be the man you fucked in an alley two weeks ago.
ever since that first encounter, you haven’t been able to get his face out of your mind. at work, his ice blue eyes haunted your every move. at home, he was all you could picture as your mind strayed back to your time beneath him. and now, as you and your boss interrogate him, all you can think about is how good satoru’s hands felt roaming over your skin when you cornered him—or, more accurately, when he cornered you.
“i dunno,” satoru replies, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. he grins shamelessly, looking you up and down with interest. “so, pretty girl, how’ve you been since we last met?”
you slip your hands into your pockets to stop yourself from doing something you’ll regret and ignore the curious look your coworker gives you. “this meeting isn’t about me. this is about the people you killed and the punishment you’re about to get,” you answer through gritted teeth.
satoru laughs, eyes locking with yours and seeing right through you. “that’s funny. so, who’s this shrimpy guy next to you? your boyfriend?” he jeers, grinning unnervingly at your coworker. you shoot your subordinate an apologetic look, which he responds to with a nod.
“i’m her boss, actually,” he clarifies, running a hand through his blonde hair and narrowing his eyes. “kento nanami. and i’ve been referred to as a lot of things, but shrimpy is a first.” satoru makes a face and laughs, as if he’s amused by the whole scene. 
“really? i’m surprised,” satoru replies easily. “i mean, whatever. i’ve seen better looking officers… like the one next to you.” he looks back at you, a careless smile still dancing on his lips. kento frowns and looks back and forth from you to satoru, and you force yourself to maintain a poker face in order to detract any suspicion.
“do you two know each other?” kento asks, crossing his arms. satoru starts laughing again, to which you roll your eyes. even if satoru were to tell kento what you hadn’t—that you two had fucked when you were supposed to be arresting him—you doubted that kento would believe him. after all, what’s the word of an obnoxious criminal compared to yours?
you shake your head and ignore satoru. “i’m the one who’s been leading the investigation on him for the past couple months,” you answer. kento meets your eyes and cocks an eyebrow, so you continue, “we met two weeks ago. i cornered him, but he escaped—”
“she let me,” satoru interjects, clearly enjoying the death glare you shoot at him a second later.
“you held a gun to my forehead,” you remind him pointedly, tapping the spot on your head where you vividly remember the cold metal resting against. 
“yeah, but i kissed it aft—”
“we’re getting off-topic,” kento interrupts, shooting you a warning glance. “detective, i’ll handle the interrogation from here.”
you hesitate, not liking how smug satoru’s expression is—but, seeing as you don’t have a choice, you dip your head in assent and exit the room. 
now that satoru’s been caught and is now in the grasp of the law, you don’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. he was your case, and now, it looks like it’s closed, especially if your boss is the one interrogating him.
kento nanami has a reputation among law enforcement—he’s known as the stoic, serious man with a perfect record. there hasn’t been a single criminal he’s interrogated that hasn’t cracked, although the knot in your stomach tells you that this might be the first.
a sharp knock sounds on your office door, summoning you back from your train of thought. “it’s open,” you call, holding a piping hot coffee with both hands. kento opens the door and steps inside, eyebrows unusually tensed. his hands are balled into fists, too, in stark contrast to his characteristically calm demeanor. 
“something wrong?” you ask tentatively, studying your boss’s troubled eyes.
kento takes a seat in the leather chair in the corner of your office and rests his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his temples. “detective, be honest with me. what happened the night you were supposed to arrest satoru gojo?”
for the first time since satoru pinned you to the wall of a darkened alley, your heart drops. kento’s knowing eyes watch your every move, from the subtle twitch in your eye to the way your fingers tense around the cup of coffee. “what do you mean?” you ask carefully, surprised at how steady your own voice is.
“detective, don’t play games with me,” kento asserts calmly, hand casually drifting towards the side of his waist. you know him well enough to know what he’s reaching for—the same instrument that another man pressed against your forehead just two weeks ago.
despite your mind being clouded with fear and uncertainty, you manage to rationalize your way through the situation. what proof could your boss possibly have besides the word of a criminal? 
it’s your word against his—and you both know whose word kento’ll believe.
“that night, he threatened to kill me,” you start, repeating the story you told the authorities when they came ten minutes too late to catch satoru. “and he must’ve drugged me or knocked me unconscious because next thing i knew, he was gone.” your confidence grows with every word, and you start nodding as if you believe your own lies.
kento’s eyes narrow, and you force yourself to hold your poker face as he scrutinizes you and your words. three long, painful seconds of silence pass before his hand moves away from the holster strapped to his waist, and you internally sigh in relief. he stands without a word and makes to exit the room, but before he does, you risk it all. “why do you ask, sir?”
your boss pauses and turns back to you, eyebrows lifting in mild interest. he doesn’t answer immediately, and you tentatively ask, “...what did he tell you?”
kento exhales a soft huff of air, a look of dread in his brown eyes. “detective, for your own peace of mind, i assure you that you don’t want to know.”
well, fuck.
“i trust your judgement, then,” you reply, feeling your poker face start to slip away. you lift your now-cold cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip, attempting to hide the grimace that threatens to make an appearance. “have a good night, boss.”
“you too, detective. stay safe.”
“i’ll do my best.”
kento nods and heads out, and through your open window you watch him tell another one of your coworkers about how he’s planning on heading out early to make bread for his family, a gentle smile on his lips. eventually, he waves bye and exits the building.
you finish off your coffee and stand up, fishing out your key card from your pocket. you figure that you should head to the bathroom before you go home, just in case. a couple of your coworkers congratulate you when you come out of your office, praising you on the capture of your suspect. you take their compliments with a smile, ultimately wishing them a good night and escaping to the bathroom.
the door clicks shut behind you, and the comfortable quiet eases you at once. but before you can even appreciate the silence of the confined room, a sultry, familiar voice interrupts your thoughts. “aw, you weren’t gonna say bye before you left?”
you turn and your mouth drops open—standing before you, in the flesh, is the criminal you swore you last saw handcuffed to a chair.
“what the fu—”
satoru reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can scurry away or grab your phone. he pulls you into his chest, and you can feel his heartbeat against your back—at least, that’s what you notice before he clamps his hand over your mouth to stifle your yells.
“shut it,” satoru hisses, breath hot against the side of your face. he turns you towards the mirror of the bathroom so you can see how he’s holding you—one hand over your mouth, and one wrapped around your waist. “don’t try anything clever, sweetheart. i wouldn’t wanna have to hurt that pretty face of yours.”
you turn your head and glare at him furiously, cussing like a sailor against his hand. you eventually try to bite it, but your meager attack is essentially useless against his iron grip. satoru raises his eyebrows sternly and hushes you again, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. 
“i’ll answer your questions, honey, but be careful,” he pauses and nods at his pocket, where the handle of what appears to be a knife—how the fuck did he get his hands on a knife?—pokes out of the cloth. “okay, i’m gonna take my hand off your mouth now,” he murmurs, purposefully lowering his voice.
true to his word, satoru removes his hand from your mouth. you take a long breath and hesitate—again, there’s not much you can do in this situation but play along. if he’s telling the truth, you can ask questions and he can answer them, so you try your hand at getting some information and biding time. someone would have to walk in the bathroom eventually, right?
“by the way,” satoru starts, a grin curving the corners of his lips upward. “nobody’s gonna come save you, princess. the door’s locked from the inside.” he also removes his hand from your waist, letting you take a step back.
“how?” you ask suspiciously, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not.
satoru laughs—his hair falls into his eyes, and immediately shakes it away with a huff of breath. “i’m good with my hands. but you already know that, don’t ya?”
you back away towards the other side of the bathroom, where sinks line the quartz countertop. “why aren’t you still in the interrogation room?”
“you think you’re the only girl i can convince to let me go?” satoru tuts, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he reaches into his pocket—not the one with the knife—and extracts a badge of some sort. satoru flicks it at you, and you catch it in midair. to your surprise, it’s the badge of one of your superiors who was supposed to be keeping an eye on satoru. the coy smile on satoru’s face confirms what you’re thinking, and his nod seals it the next second. 
“okay,” you say carefully, drawing out the word for a couple seconds. “how long have you been waiting here?”
“long enough,” satoru answers vaguely, not bothering to elaborate.
“thanks a lot,” you deadpan.
“nice to see that you’re still feisty—”
“and what the hell did you tell my boss?” you interrupt, suddenly remembering the dread-filled way kento had looked at you. the way your voice rises is unexpected enough to force satoru to involuntarily take a step back. it’s not much, but the step you take forward a second later to assert your position brings you a small feeling of satisfaction. after all, he’s only human—and all humans get surprised by loud noises.
satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender and eyes you skeptically. “you’re really worried about your boss’s approval, aren’t you?” he asks dryly, white hair falling into his eyes again. “heh, desperate much?”
you roll your eyes and curl your hands into fists—unfortunately, your action only seems to amuse satoru, but you ignore the little “aw” he coos and continue glaring at him. “answer the fucking question, satoru.”
“language,” he snorts. a second later, satoru cocks his head and thinks for a moment, and when his eyes land on you again he asks, “so, you’re still callin’ me satoru? cute.”
your face involuntarily heats up, and even though you’re sure satoru can tell, you pretend not to notice—again. “answer the question or i’ll scream.”
“you wouldn’t dare.”
“wouldn’t i?”
you don’t get the chance to fufill your threat, because satoru sees that you’re serious a second too early—everything’s a blur as he grabs your wrists and bunches them into one hand, firmly securing your hands behind your back. his chest rests on top of your back as he folds you over the bathroom counter, and his reflection leers at you from the mirror. “nice try, baby. but remember, you’re dealin’ with a world-class serial killer.”
“world-class? how humble of you,” you snap irritably, craning your neck to glare at satoru out of the corner of your eye. “you asshole, get off me or i’ll—”
satoru interrupts you by prodding at your lips with two of his fingers, forcing your mouth open and slipping them inside. you instantly attempt to bite him, but his fingers are so long that they trigger your gag reflex instead. “missed me, detective?” satoru coos, curling his fingers downwards and pressing on your tongue. a little whine involuntarily slips out of your lips, and satoru takes that as a yes. “yeah, i can tell,” he continues, studying your heated face in the reflection of the mirror. “i bet you couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me since that night, yeah?”
he doesn’t bother waiting for a response before he extracts his fingers and leaves you gasping for breath. you watch as satoru lifts his now-soaked fingers to his lips and runs his tongue over them, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. it’s disgusting, filthy even, but that doesn’t stop your thighs from clenching together in a futile attempt to hide your arousal from him.
“y’know, i think you’re wearing too many clothes,” satoru sighs, resting his chin on top of your head and smiling coyly. “wanna fix that for me?”
“do i have a choice?”
“no.” satoru pushes himself off of you and gives you enough space to start removing your clothes without his smothering presence. the idea of running away or screaming crosses your mind, but the serial killer’s smile makes you certain that you’d regret it—and that’s even disregarding the knife that’s still shining at you from his pocket. 
seeing as you don’t really have any other option, you slowly shrug off your coat and let it slide down your body and onto the floor. your collared shirt comes off next, followed by your pants, until there’s hardly anything shielding you from satoru’s hungry eyes. the feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is hard to describe—it’s something like a mix between longing and fear, two emotions you hadn’t felt since that night.
and maybe, even though every instinct you have insists that this is the last thing you should be finding pleasure in, you want to feel that way again.
“you really coulda been anything in the world with that body,” satoru sighs, leaning back against a wall and taking his sweet time looking you up and down. his eyes narrow slyly as he watches you shrink away from him instinctually, and the next thing you know, he’s on you again, hands tracing over your skin and lips unbearably close to yours. “although, i guess it’s a good thing you’re a detective, ‘cause i wouldn’t have met you if you weren’t.”
you shouldn’t be agreeing with him, and as he lifts you up onto the counter, you also know that you shouldn’t be letting him do this. it goes against everything you swore to protect when you joined law enforcement, and if this ever got out—no, when it got out, you’d be the pariah of the city.
but even after thinking it through, one, two, maybe even three times, you can’t find it in your heart to care about much else than the hands pushing apart your thighs and slipping inside your shamelessly wet cunt.
“heh, how long has it been since we last did this?” satoru coos, eyes glazing over with a mixture of lust and adoration. his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it—the blush spreads all the way up to the tips of his ears, and it’s even more prominent underneath the overhead lights as he eyes you. “two weeks, right? feels like it’s been twenty.”
“do you ever shut up?” you mutter sourly, averting your eyes from satoru’s. he responds by curling up the two fingers he has inside your cunt, a mean little smile on his lips. 
“careful with that mouth of yours,” satoru warns, pushing his fingers in farther until he’s practically knuckle-deep inside of you. his thumb rests firmly against your clit, toying with the sensitive skin. “it’ll get you in trouble one day, pretty girl…” satoru withdraws his fingers in one swift motion with a soft, wet pop. he lifts his hand to his lips and licks off your slick, swiping his tongue over his fingers a couple times with a smile. “y’know what? i’ll let you go if you can do one thing for me, ‘kay?”
he waits for your response, raising an eyebrow patiently for you to catch your breath. it almost feels like deja vu, or some cheesy movie from the 90’s: the pretty little detective getting fucked by the big bad serial killer, and you know how these films always ended—not pretty.
“what?” you ask halfheartedly, expecting him to ask you to do something like erase him from the police records or sabotage the investigation. satoru cups your face with both hands, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush against yours, and his smile is almost mocking when he replies.
“suck my dick.”
part of you wants to ask “that’s it?”, but the glimmer in satoru’s knowing eyes makes you certain that he won’t make this easy for you. 
“what if i say no?” you ask tentatively. it’s a stupid question—now you’re just playing russian roulette with his rationality, and either way, you already know your decision.
the past two weeks have been torture. every waking moment of yours was spent thinking about the man you fucked, and every time you thought of his carefree smile and feather-light touch, you just felt guilty for wanting more. after all, when you first became a detective, you swore to prioritize your job and not make any personal relationships with your subjects. and yet, here you were, almost too eager to get on your knees for the serial killer who you swore to incapacitate. 
satoru shrugs nonchalantly in response to your question and not-so-subtly shoots a furtive glance at his pocket, where the handle of his knife still pokes out. “you’re a smart girl. i think you can guess, yeah?”
and that’s how you ended up with your lips wrapped around satoru’s dick for the seventh time (if you include every fantasy you’ve had about giving him head). it’s almost funny how he switches up the second you run your tongue over his blushing pink tip—his face goes red, all the way up to his ears, and the little breathy moans that slip out of his lips would be adorable in any other context but this.
“f-fuck, wasn’t expecting you to be this good,” he manages to mutter through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering open and shut. “where’d you learn to suck dick like this, heh—”
it’s been.. a while since satoru first helped you get on your knees in front of him and unzipped his pants, and even though it could’ve just been a couple minutes, it feels like this is all you’ve ever known. satoru’s ice blue eyes have barely moved from you since you started, and it looks like it’ll stay like that until you finish—or, more accurately, until he finishes.
satoru’s foot bounces on the floor as you lick a long stripe from the tip of his dick to the top of it, and the way his nails dig into his palm makes you absolutely certain that he’s close to cumming down your throat. “shit, don’t— don’t stop,” he chokes out, threading his fingers through your hair and involuntarily pushing down your head. “fuck—”
when satoru finally cums, it’s pitifully obvious—actually, it’s almost embarrassing. last time, you were the one in shambles when he was done with you, but now, it looks like it’s the other way around. his eyes flicker as they almost roll back from the sheer pleasure of you sucking him dry, and when satoru’s cum shoots out of his painfully hard dick, it’s a hot mess that leaks out of your mouth and down your chin. 
“y-yeah, good girl,” he murmurs shakily, reaching down and swiping his thumb over your cum-soaked, swollen lips. you lick off the thick, viscous liquid from his fingers instinctually, a dazed little smile on your face as you watch satoru tilt his head back towards the ceiling.
it’s interesting, seeing the city’s infamous serial killer like this. he’s leaning back against the white tile of the bathroom walls, chest heaving from his orgasm, and in that moment, you realize that his attention is on everything else but you. 
so, naturally, you stab him in the back.
not literally—that’d be a pain for your office’s custodian to clean up, but you extract the knife from satoru’s discarded pants and, before he can register the sharp object in your shaky hand, you press it to his blush-red throat. 
satoru’s hazy eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes what’s going on before they narrow in what looks almost like a mix between anger and shock. it’s stupid, foolish, and almost naive, but somewhere in your chest, it feels like a dagger pokes at your softened heart when you categorize the look in his eyes as betrayal. which is, by all accounts, entirely unreasonable—did he seriously think you wouldn’t take advantage of him like this?
at the end of the day, no matter how good the dick was, you weren’t about to sacrifice your well-paying job for a man on the run from the law.
“what the fuck?” satoru snaps, hand twitching in a movement to throw you off of him, but thankfully, the sudden shift in atmosphere heightened your instincts to a point where nothing could possibly catch you off-guard. you dig in the knife a millimeter deeper into his throat, avoiding eye contact with the man you just made cum with your mouth. “are you—”
“yeah, i am,” you assert, biding time. as much as you’d like to pretend that you’re completely in control of the situation, there’s only so long that you can hold up this stalemate. satoru’s stronger than you physically, and the second he figures out a way to handle the knife pressed to his neck, he’d get his revenge.
satoru comes to this conclusion about as fast as you did, and his lips curve upwards in a jeering smile. the look in his eyes is borderline insane when he snarls, “nobody’s gonna rescue you from me, princess. just you wait—”
and, with perfect comedic timing, the bathroom door opens, and one of your female co-workers steps in. you’ve never talked to her much, but thankfully, her instincts are even faster than yours.
what happens next goes by in a haze. your co-worker holds a gun to the side satoru’s head, and calls for backup. then, a handful of sleepy-eyed police officers haul away a cursing and fighting satoru to who-knows-where.
but just before he’s out of sight, satoru shoots you an unsettlingly calm look. and as if that wasn’t concerning enough, the last words he mouths to you are “this isn’t over.”
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sp0o0kylights · 1 year ago
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Indie horror filmmaker Eddie Munson, high off his first big (underground but notable) success, knows the movers and shakers of the film world have their eyes on him. 
They're just waiting to see if he was a one hit wonder before they open all the doors he's been trying to kick down. 
His next upcoming film is his chance, his shot at finally making it. Of being like Rob Zombie and the other creators he looks up to that masterfully blended metal and horror. 
This is his golden ticket. 
The project starts off smooth. His last success has greased the wheels, and things fall into place faster than ever before. 
He's got the best idea for this insane haunted house story, a true "mazes in mazes" type of deal with a queer twist. A real look at how a place can haunt a person just as easily as a ghost can.
 Everything's going swimmingly--until one of his leads drops out the day they're due to start shooting.
No call no show's, and later, Eddie will find out the guy got a last second call back to be a contestant on one of those Love Island bullshit romance gigs (and laugh his ass off when the main love interest takes one look at Billy Hargrove and goes on a five minute rant about ugly mullets on national television) but right now? 
He's fucked. 
He's called in every favor he has for this film. Maxed out every credit card he owns, tapped every contact, got on his hands and knees and begged his rising star journalist best bud to help him market it. (Which Nancy agreed too, for way less cash than she should have.) 
 Eddie can't get anyone on the phone, much less find a replacement actor and the amazing place they rented, that is so dark and wonderfully eerie, is booked out the rest of the year as an AirBnB. 
If he doesn't film now, he loses it all.
Cue the other lead, unknown theater actor Steve Harrington, watching his hair pulling, tire kicking, 'cursing and hopping while holding a toe' mental breakdown and asks why Eddie himself doesn't act in it. 
"Just go full Kevin Smith man. Act and direct." He says, with an easy grin. 
Jeff, Eddie's tried and true videographer, trades glances with Gareth and Grant (Eddie's long used special effects and makeup team, who double for about twelve other jobs because they're also his best friends and they're all in this together, make or break.)
"We don't really have a lot of other options." Gareth hedges. "You're already using me and Grant as background characters." 
Eddie, hands fluttering around his face as though trying to wave away this entire situation, squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a pained hiss. 
"Fine, fine!" He announces with the air of a man running towards a fire. "Fuck it, this is our one shot and so help me I will be shooting it!" 
Steve politely hides a laugh with a cough. 
"Chuckle all you want big boy, I'm going to tragically romance you so hard people will forget both of our characters actually live." Eddie snarls.
Steve, the handsome bastard, just winks.  "Looking forward to it." 
Eddie blushes, but hides it with a surge of frantic energy, conveyed by lots of yelling and moving and getting the ball rolling. 
Two days later, Steve would give the performance of a lifetime down on his knees, covered in a literal pound of fake gore, booty shorts and nothing else as he sobbed about how a lover could become a home. His hands clawed at Eddie's jeans before resting a tear stained face on a slim leg as he bent his body towards Eddie like it hurt to be away from him. 
Eddie would later receive equal praise in his own acting during the scene, with the world and every reporter in it asking how he conveyed an otherworldly panic so beautifully throughout Steve's performance. What was he thinking, to evoke those expressions on his face? 
The way his own pale hand, unmarred by blood and acting as a metaphor for the plot, would come to stroke Steve's cheeks.
Eventually he'd come up with a smooth polished answer that cheekily pleased his audience, but nothing would ever come close to the truth. 
("Eddie I've known you since grade school." Jeff said that night, a scant few hours after they'd wrapped. "You can act man, but not like that." 
Eddie made a wild "shut up" gesture, looking frantically over his shoulder before admitting; "You saw how close his face was to the prince of darkness!? I was seconds away from popping a boner next to his lips, in front of the 4K camera!” 
Eddie bounced into Jeff’s face so he could hiss: “He fucking had his chin on my thigh, Jeff, and I am only a man. A mere mortal!" 
"So we're gonna unpack all of that later." Jeff said finally, when he'd managed to get his mouth working and Eddie back out of his personal space. "But dude, we've talked about you calling your dick the prince of darkness." 
Eddie flipped him off.) 
One year later and critics named Corroded the best horror film of the year, praising the camera work, practical effects, and how there wasn't a soul alive who was surprised to hear Eddie and Steve were dating after their explosive on screen chemistry.
No one ever quite understood the prince of darkness jokes or why Steve mentioning it made Eddie blush, but that was a secret to find out later. 
Today on WIP’s I have no intention of writing, indie horror movie AU!
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intermundia · 5 months ago
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SHOOT DAY 28: WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 6, 2003 LOCATION: Stage 3 SET: Mustafar landing platform SCENES SHOT: 145pt (Padmé confronts Anakin on Mustafar and Obi-Wan arrives)
At 2:45, they're ready for close-ups of Hayden. Lucas discusses the tone with him. "This is Anakin's greatest moment; he's got all these new powers-everything is fine." "Anakin's just gone and killed his family, more or less, so I've done a deed that I thought would've weighed on me," Christensen would say the following day. "But George sees it as an outburst of almost accidental anger that Anakin then has to suffer the repercussions of for the rest of his life. Anakin thinks he's done the right thing in killing all the Jedi, so George wanted me to come to the scene with enthusiasm. Things are good. I'm the most powerful man in the universe and I'm going to be able to save Padmé."
Honestly I think what makes Hayden's performance as Anakin during the confrontation on Mustafar so compelling is that Hayden's instincts are to feel guilt and horror, from the deep revulsion of the good part of him that still lurks inside ('i just killed my family'), and Lucas's direction is to project confidence and enthusiasm out of self satisfaction ('what i did was definitely absolutely right, good, necessary, important').
As a result Hayden gives Anakin a palpable kind of tension in the eyes. He holds up a unsettling false front of willing self-deception, leaning into insane delusions of grandeur to avoid confronting the traumatic reality of what he did. That tension visibly snaps at the perception of betrayal, lashing out in the surge of accidental anger that would haunt Anakin for the rest of his life.
Hayden's acting in that moment, the huge swing of manic joy to a murderous scowl, really never gets the credit it deserves for actually being pretty subtle. It feels natural and seamless despite the high drama and unsubtle dialogue. I love the build up of that psychological tension as he falls into the dark and its explosive, deadly release, it's really perfect to me.
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alchemistc · 3 months ago
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i present my latest offering of an au first meeting: the poker game.
Big Blind
Tommy's been on plenty of bad dates in his time, but this one might actually take the cake for worst first date he's ever had. They're just -- not right for one another, and it's clear they can both feel it, but for some reason Jeff just -- keeps talking. About his border collie rescue, and his sixth fourteener (this year), and the his upcoming promotion and the Cybertruck he's thinking about getting wrapped in matte black --
"Jeff," Tommy cuts in, when he starts in on Tesla stock talk. "I'm gonna pay the check and head out. It's been..." he gestures. Considers calling Stout right here at the dinner table to tell him no more blind dates with his stock broker brother-in-laws friends, no matter how gay they are.
He's gonna get shit from Stout's wife the next time she stops by with a casserole, but honestly a half-hour tirade on politeness from Heather Alexandra Stout sounds better than learning how much of an Elon Musk fanboy Jeff really is. Jeff looks like he might be offended by the implication that he wouldn't have paid, but Tommy's already waving down his server and gesturing to the bar by the time Jeff even thinks to reach for his wallet.
"You have a good night."
Andrea slides his check under his elbow with a raised brow and doesn't say a word when he hands her his card immediately, but he can tell she's judging him. Third date in a month he's barely contained his disdain for long enough to pay up, although this is the first he's outright ditched before the bill was even paid.
Gary slides a beer across the bar to him and refuses the cash Tommy tries to give him for it. "Do I look that pathetic, Gary?"
Man of few words, Gary just taps his nose and tips his chin to his date, who is doing a terrible job of trying to sneak out the door.
"You're too good for him, anyway," says Andrea, back already with his card. He tucks an extra twenty into her folder and downs the beer in silence while they watch through the window as Jeff seems to get into an argument with the Uber pulling up in front of the restaurant.
"Maybe it's me," Tommy says, and Gary hums in commiseration. Or maybe he just has gas. "Maybe I'm the problem."
It's been a string of bad dates, and before that a relationship that'd gone up in metaphorical but nearly literal flames. Tommy's spent a lot of introspective time wishing he could kill Gerrard with lasers so that he doesn't have to blame himself for staying in the closet so long that blind dates and Grindr meetups were his real introduction to the dating scene.
"Someday, Tommy, you'll meet someone who can't get enough of your morbid humor and your pessimism and your obsession with haunted cars."
"One car," Tommy argues, although that's beside the point. "I think maybe I should give the search for love a break, Gary."
Gary hums, again.
Tommy drinks the rest of his beer in companionable silence and pulls up his phone to order an Uber himself. Jeff is, thankfully, long gone, and Tommy's halfway through confirming his home address when he remembers the invite he'd received last week that he'd hesitated scheduling a date around. He shoots off a text instead, and updates the address before he slides from the bar stool.
Gary shoots him a look. "Headed home?"
Tommy shifts on his feet. Shoots a look behind the bar. "Nah. Gonna try to hit up a work thing. Pour me a shot of Tullamore for the road?"
Gary accepts the twenty this time and doesn't make a comment about the way Tommy downs a sipping whiskey, which Tommy appreciates.
He's halfway to his destination, enjoying the chat with his driver, when the text comes in from Lucy.
Had to bail, but you should go if the date went that badly. Williams will enjoy slowly ruining the remainder of your night.
Tommy taps his phone once, twice, three times before he makes up his mind not to be the asshole who changes his destination halfway through the ride. Worst comes to worst, he'll tap out early and Venmo Mehta the rest of his stake.
Better than moping at home with the pint of freezer-burned Ben and Jerry's.
-----
He's fairly rushed down the stairs once he's in, because apparently Williams is on some sort of time crunch, or something, and he's fairly certain the drinks are catching up to him as he takes in the table. Mehta and Wilson are regulars, and he's seen Rosen around, but there are two new guys settling in across the table and Tommy has to take a long, long moment to remind himself this is technically a professional setting before he can look too closely at either one of them.
Yeah. Shit, he'd definitely drank most of that second pitcher by himself, listening to Jeff talk.
"Kinard. We weren't expecting you." Rosen's eyes glimmer with amusement. He'd caught maybe six months of her probationary year, but every time she sees him she likes to remind him of the first time she'd seen him post-transfer, at a gay bar in WeHo, and introduced him to the first guy he'd dated seriously in his entire life. Tommy returns the favor by reminding her exactly how terribly that had ended for all parties. "Poker night dress code usually includes more buttons than date night," she jabs, finger circling the olives in her martini glass, and Tommy contemplates tossing one of Mehta's chips at her. Her grin goes wide.
With the momentary distraction, Tommy feels a little more prepared to face the two men now eyeing him curiously.
"Tommy," he says, leaning over the table, hand out to shake. Turtleneck raises a curious eyebrow when Mr. Red Velvet Smoking jacket practically leaps across his lap to shake back. "I'm over at 217."
"This is Eddie," Red Velvet introduces, and Tommy's gaze dances between them, curious. "I'm Evan. We're with the -- wait, 217 -- Chimney's Tommy?"
Tommy's brows dance up the same time as Eddie's do. He is still shaking hands with Evan. Or - holding is more accurate, he supposes, but for the sake of his sanity and the possible date Evan and Eddie are on, if he's reading the introduction or any of the vibes right (they're both stunning and Tommy is smarting from another shitty date, so who knows), Tommy keeps it to shake in his mind. "Well I don't think Howie can claim ownership of my person, but -."
"Sorry, no, I just meant..." Evan's gaze drops to their clasped hands, still now over the felt of the poker table. He gives one more firm pump and drops Tommy's hand. "We're both at the 118. Pretty sure you helped save this guy's ass once." He tips a thumb sideways to indicate the man he'd introduced as Eddie.
Tommy's eyes drift. He's had a few drinks, and up until about halfway through the date he'd been expecting a very different outcome for his night, so he's maybe not keeping a lid on things the way he normally would in a work setting. He's guessing the ass he's purported to have saved would look great, if it weren't firmly planted in his chair and out of view. The rest of the view ain't bad, either.
And.
Shit.
Williams is giving him a look, which means he's not being even a little subtle. "The gas main explosion," Tommy finally gathers from the cobwebs of his brain, and wouldn't it be his luck to transfer out of the 118 just in time for two annoyingly attractive men who may possibly be boning each other to take his place.
Evan grins. Beams, more like, and Tommy slides firmly into his own chair and tries not to be blinded by it. Or entranced by it. God he needs to get laid. Get this - whatever this is - out of his system.
Tommy's cool. Tommy's calm and collected and he hadn't even had that much to drink, actually, so why is he having such a hard time behaving like he's had forty years of experience dealing with attractive men?
Tommy sorts through the memories.
Eddie he can pinpoint fairly easily -- he'd shot off a message to Chim the moment they'd learned one of the 118 had been shot, and had been happy to break the news of his recovery to an anxious Harbor station in the tense days after it had all gone down. Evan, though - he doesn't have a clue who that could be. He's still got a few buddies from B Shift he talks to on occasion, but he doesn't remember any stories about an Evan from them, and Howie hasn't mentioned one, either.
Of course, it's not like either one of them does a great job of keeping in touch.
The mystery is solved a moment later when Williams tips her head at him. "Feels like we're being overrun by the 118 tonight," she says with a grin, but her gaze slides to Evan, rather than Tommy. "And we've got an honest-to-goodness legend tonight."
"You know I still can't believe you survived that, Buckley," Mehta says, and the puzzle piece slots itself into place. "Uh, although we're all glad that you did."
Buckley. Tommy shifts. Reassesses. Eyes the glance between Diaz and Buckley like he's gonna figure out their deal while he's already four and a half drinks deep into the night and hasn't already heard the larger than life tales of this duo from half-a-dozen gossipy paramedics. According to some, there's a secret torrid love affair going on behind the scenes of their codependent friendship. According to others, the ones he more or less trusts not to stretch the truth too far, they're friends -- closer than most, and maybe a little weird about each other, but friends all the same.
Buckley's a shark. Or, if Williams is to be believed, a bit of a cheat.
As the game goes on, and the conversation drifts from the morbid details of Buckley's three-minutes-seventeen-seconds of lifelessness, past the special skills near death experiences are rumored to cause, past the time out where they'd all admired the pictures of Buckley's Lichtenburg scars ("They faded pretty quickly," Evan says, with a soft little frown like he's a bit disappointed not to have any physical proof beyond a few shots of his naked brick shithouse of a chest.) Tommy can't help but admire the shift from bashful to smirking and smug as Evan keeps racking up monumentally improbable hands. He's a bit of a brat, actually, and Tommy can feel Rosen's eyes burning into the side of his head every time he ups the ante just to watch the flicker of triumph aimed in his direction every time Evan wins a hand Tommy raised.
Tommy's no slob with cards, on a normal day, but he's too busy trying not to read anything into the way Evan's eyes keep drifting to the v of the shirt he hadn't buttoned back up just to spite Rosen, or the way he keeps licking his fucking lips every time Tommy takes a sip of the whiskey at his elbow to really care as his chips dwindle to nothing. Tommy can't be entirely sure, but it seems like maybe Evan pouts, a little, when Tommy pushes back from the table to join the rest of the losers crowded around to watch Williams, Mehta and Buckley battle it out.
He's trying to think of a subtle way to ask Howie if Evan Buckley is just like that with all the men in his life when Eddie slides in beside him with a refill on his whiskey. Tommy grimaces. "I shouldn't."
"Thought you were trying to drink away a bad date?"
Tommy shoots Rosen a glare over Eddie's shoulder, but she's too busy chasing her straw with her tongue to notice.
"He was a Tesla fanboy," Tommy intones, and the braces himself for the reaction. He's used to it, now -- the constant cycle of coming out and waiting to see which new acquaintances bow out of getting to know each other any better. This is... earlier, than he usually drops it, but he hasn't been in the mood to lie about it in years, and Eddie had asked. He gets a raised brow and a grimace.
"Don't tell me you didn't know ahead of time," Eddie says, and Tommy loosens the grip on his glass.
"Hazards of blind dating."
Eddie's look is commiserating. He tips his beer bottle against Tommy's rocks glass. "Yeah, my tia keeps finding reasons for me to run into the eligible daughters and granddaughters of all her friends." Which Tommy supposes is answer to half of the question that's been plaguing him since he sat down.
Buckley gets cocky a few times, but it's clear the night is going his way even before Jeshan Mehta's pot gets swept up in Evan's arms. Williams holds out as long as she can.
"Beginner's luck!" Buckley crows, when Williams' last chip is added to his pile. Eddie's been supplying him with a steady flow of drinks for the past thirty minutes, and his smile is crooked as he tilts backwards in his chair for a fist bump. His eyes flick to Tommy's once he's received his congratulations from Eddie, and Tommy pretends he's not a little bit fascinated by the pull of his jacket over his arms, or the way his closed hand lingers near Tommy's even after Tommy has smacked his knuckles against his as well.
Evan Buckley is frustratingly adorable. Tommy's had too many drinks for any kind of decent decision making. He bows out while Evan and Eddie are collecting his winnings.
-----
Tommy's eyes flick to the readout on his phone. He doesn't recognize the number, but it's a local area code, so he picks up on the forth ring. "Go for Kinard."
"Uh - hey, hi. Hey Tommy." The voice is familiar, sweet and low. "It's Buck - Evan. Evan Buckley. I uh -- I got your number from Chim, I hope that's alright?"
Tommy's got a solid fifteen minutes before he has to leave for work, a raging headache that has thus far refused to accept electrolytes or Advil as tribute to his overindulgence the previous evening, and a full understanding that he's going to spend his shift listening to Donato swear up and down she's the better option for finding him a man, but the voice on the other end of his phone might at least give the headache a run for it's money.
"Evan. Hi."
"Hey. So -- you dipped before I could ask -- which is fine, obviously, I'm not -- uh..." He pauses. Tommy can practically picture the way he wets his lower lip while he searches for the right words. "Anyway I was wondering -- would you maybe wanna grab a beer, sometime?"
Tommy spends about fifteen seconds rearranging his entire schedule in his mind. Says, cool, calm, collected: "Sure. When are you free?"
Evan's voice goes distant for a second -- he's putting Tommy on speaker. "I, uh -- I didn't expect you to say yes so quickly. Actually I didn't expect you to answer -- who answers unknown numbers, anymore?"
"Who calls expecting to get sent to voicemail?"
The brat rises up immediately. "Uh, literally everyone. The missed call is just an excuse to text. It's basic phone etiquette, Tommy."
Tommy likes the way he says his name. Soft, sweet and slow, rolling over his tongue like molasses. This feels incredibly like flirting, but he can't get a fucking read on this kid. "Clearly I've missed out on an important cultural shift. I can hang up and we can do this the right way, if you want."
"No!" It's sharp -- louder, like he's raising the phone back towards his mouth. Tommy can't hide the grin leaking across his face. "Uh -- no, it's fine. Too late, anyway, I already know you don't know phone rules."
"Hopefully that doesn't change your opinion of me too much."
"I could be convinced to ignore it, with the right incentive."
"I'll buy first round," Tommy says, and wonders if he's got any other shirts he can play off as fitting better with three buttons undone. The flirting should be enough, but -- Tommy's still not sure drinks isn't just drinks.
"Wednesday night," Evan says, voice further away again. Tommy has a sudden, desperate urge to see what his Google calendar looks like. For all that he'd cut loose at the poker game, Tommy bets it's color coded by type of activity. "If that works. Or Saturday, any time, really. I'm uh -- I'm free then."
If Tommy bows out of trivia on classic car week Cynthia will have a whole ass bitch fit. And it makes him seem a little less eager, to boot. "Saturday. I've got a shift early Sunday, though, so maybe something in the afternoon?"
"Yeah -- yes, th-that works." The stammering isn't something Tommy can get a read off of. He'd done it just as much with Eddie as he'd done with everyone else. "There's a new brewery just off Pico and Prosser -- Chim said you were a fan of craft beer?"
Sounding more date like by the minute, but -- some guys toe the line. Could be Evan Buckley just wants to know more about flight operations, for all Tommy knows. "Text me the details. Look, Evan, I'd love to stay on this rule-breaking phone call and chat but I've got to head in for a shift. Just -- let me know the plan." He's got five minutes to brush his teeth and rue the moment he'd asked Gary for his first whiskey of the night. He's also rolling back his last few sentences and cringing at how abrupt he'd been. "And yeah -- good to know Chim hasn't forgotten the three facts I ever told him about me."
Evan laughs, just a soft little huff but Tommy already knows the grin behind that sound is all sorts of knee-meltingly sweet. "Cool. So. Yeah, I'll text you."
"I'll talk to you later, Evan."
"Yep. Talk to you -- talk to you soon."
Tommy waits a moment in silence. The call doesn't end. "Goodbye, Evan."
Evan huffs out another awkward laugh. "Yeah. Bye, Tommy."
The call disconnects just in time for Tommy to press his forehead into the cool tile beside his bathroom mirror. He might be monumentally screwed if this isn't a date. He hasn't been this fucking charmed by a man since -- well, it's been a while.
Tommy's phone buzzes in his hand. It's a pinned address from a number he doesn't have saved. Tommy swipes into the contact and updates it before the next text makes it through. Saturday 3PM?
Tommy brushes his teeth, downs the rest of his preworkout in the hopes that it'll ease some of the nastier parts of his stupid decision to keep drinking liquor past midnight, and stares at the text all the way out to his truck.
See you then, Tommy sends back, and he has to toss his phone into his passenger seat when he gets a series of incomprehensible emoji's almost immediately in response.
He holds up a hand to Donato the moment she catches his gaze, halfway across the parking lot. The brow goes up, the hand slots to her hip, and she rolls her tongue over her teeth, clearly ready for her speech about how Stout doesn't have a clue how to find Tommy a proper date. Tommy has other problems.
"You worked with Evan Buckley, for a while, didn't you?"
Her head tilt rights itself. The second brow dances up to meet the first. Whatever she'd meant to say disperses behind her eyelids as she seems to work through something in her mind. "Oh, this is compelling," she says, and practically skips forward to loop her arm in his.
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