#well anyway good to know that my ratings of movies are the correct ones

[carcarrot]

now that i am running out of movies ive seen to rate, i am committing the cardinal letterboxd sin of reading reviews of movies i like

[karahalloway]

Morally Grey - Part III: Russian Roulette

Fandom: TRR x Mission: Impossible II

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series: Morally Grey

Synopsis: Things continue to heat up between Harper and Drake...

Word count: 3,500

Rating/Warnings: E (swearing, multiple lemon-scented moments)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: I know I haven't posted anything in over a month (life has been way too busy!) but in the few moments of spare time that I have managed to eek out, my brain decided that this is the series that it wants to focus on, so here is Part 3.

A/N2: Unlike previous parts, are no YouTube clips for this part - the movie skips over whatever happens between the car chase scene and Ethan and Nyah waking up in bed together the following evening, so I took Harper and Drake's lead to fill the time gap.

"I haven't...forgiven you," I gasp against his lips, even as I find myself yielding to the direction of his hands.

"This ain't an apology," he replies, tipping my head to the side so he can coast his tongue down my jaw.

My eyes shudder shut as the scrape of his stubble across the sensitive skin of my throat leaves me breathless.

Damn, he's an arrogant ass...

But I can't deny that I want to fuck him.

Whether it's because of my oh-so-close brush death... or because I'm still pissed at him and I need an outlet for the messy cocktail of emotions burning inside of me... or some kind of twisted combination of the two, the end result is the same. My brain is a mess and my body is on fire.

Which means I need to break this off now, before things become dangerously complicated between us.

"Good," I tell him, pulling abruptly away. "We're on the same page, then."

His eyes widen as I grab onto his shoulders to swing myself off his lap. "The hell—?"

"Nice knowing you, Walker," I throw over my shoulder as I shunt myself across to the other side of the car.

He grabs my wrist. "You said you'd listen."

"No," I correct. "I didn't."

He cusses under his breath as I twist away. "Look, will you just hold on, for one second, and—?"

"And what?" I interject testily, hoisting myself up onto the doorframe. "Give you yet another chance to con me? No thanks."

"You wanna be mad at me?" he grits. "Fine. Be mad. But don't pretend that's a good reason to walk away."

"Funny," I snark, swinging my legs into the Porsche. "It's working surprisingly well for me so far."

"Until you find yourself backed into a corner..."

I freeze mid-motion.

"You're on Interpol's wanted list," he reminds me. "And that kind of heat is hard to shake. Even if you decide to lie low for a while, or full-on retire, you're not getting a free pass. Not without help, anyway."

"Why should I believe you?" I snap through gritted teeth, hating the indecision raging inside of me.

"Honestly? 'Cause you ain't got a choice," he huffs. "And I know you got no reason to trust me right now. Hell, I wouldn't trust me either. But I'm in a bind, and my offer's legit. So, as far as get-out-of-jail-free cards go, you'll be hard-pressed to find a better one."

I glare out into the night. Damn it, why does he have to be so right?

On one hand, logic — and experience — tells me that I should steer clear of gift horses that seem too good to be true, as they invariably have rotten teeth.

And yet, in spite of every rational inclination, I want to trust him... I want to give into him.

As behind the somewhat gruff exterior and annoyingly pushy attitude, there is a certain frankness to him. I mean, he could've bullshitted me over the alarm, or even fed me to the wolves for kicks... but he didn't. Which makes me want to think that he has some measure of integrity.

But I've been wrong about guys before...

"Fine," I declare abrasively, wiping the wetness from my face. "I'll help you. But I want that offer in writing."

"Done," he accedes, the sudden warmth of his breath lapping the shell of my ear.

Whipping around, I find myself nose to nose with him, his hands splayed on the Mercedes' doorframe on either side of me, as if our renewed proximity somehow serves to seal the deal.

But he's wrong if he thinks he's won this round.

"And you owe me a necklace," I add, lifting my chin.

A scoff escapes him, tickling my lips. "Fuck me, you're demanding..."

I shrug up at him. "You wouldn't have chased after me if I wasn't."

He regards me for a long moment, his jaw working.

I force myself to hold his gaze, even as I feel the latent embers left by that kiss start to smoulder again under the weight of the prolonged contact.

He breaks off first. "I'll see what I can do."

A relieved breath rushes out of me.

I have no idea whether he'll come through for me on either front. But a long career in larceny has taught me to aim high, and always have a back-up plan in my pocket.

And of things don't work out...? Well, I guess I'll just have to pawn that expensive watch of his.

"Great...!" I chirp, fully conscious of the bare modicum of space between us. "So, what's the job?"

"No clue," he admits, finally backing off to slip past me into the Porsche.

My jaw drops. "What do you mean you don't know! You came all this way to set me up and you don't even—?"

"Trust me," he grumbles, sliding into the driver's seat. "I'm well aware. But my brief was to locate you first, and then report in to get the rest of the details."

"And you follow your assignments to the letter..." I surmise with a sidelong look as I plop down into the passenger seat next to him.

He scoffs wryly as he flips the engine over. "Very rarely."

Yanking the wheel hard to the right, he rams the gas pedal down to detach his car from mine with an ear-splitting screech of metal, taking the Mercedes' wing mirror off in the process.

Swerving out into the middle of the bridge, he guns the Porsche into the night, leaving the carnage behind us to dust.

"You always drive like a maniac?" I shout over the whip of the wind.

He slants me a deadpan look. "I'm not the one who almost ended up in the river..."

I roll my eyes at him. "Where are we meeting this guy?"

"Stormholt," he replies, punching some coordinates into the Spyder's navigation system. "But it ain't a joint exercise."

"Why?" I counter with an arched brow. "You don't trust me?"

"Not one bit," he grins.

I can't help but laugh. "How do you know I won't skip out on you, then?"

"I don't," he admits, meeting my eye across the width of the car. "But I'm hoping I've given you enough reason to stay."

I glance quickly away before he notices the sudden colour spreading across my cheeks. "But...umm... Why me?"

"You came highly recommended."

"By whom?"

"By my agency."

My brows furrow. "I didn't think the CIA kept tabs on common thieves."

"I don't work for the CIA."

"Then...?"

"I'm an agent with IMF."

I nearly choke. "IMF?"

"Impossible Missions Force," he clarifies.

"You can't be serious..." I blurt.

Luckily, he mistakes my disbelief for confusion as he says, "Hey, I didn't come up with the name. But at least it's accurate."

"If you say so," I mutter, sinking deeper into the seat and wrapping my arms around myself.

This can't be a coincidence... Can it?

"Here," he says, shrugging out of his suit jacket while managing to keep the Porsche tracking steady with just his knees against the steering wheel at over 80 mph.

I shake my head. "I don't—"

He cuts off my protest with an impeccably aimed toss, landing the jacket square in my lap. "It's a long drive. And the adrenaline will be wearing off now."

As if on cue, a shiver runs over my skin. Heaving a begrudging sigh, I set about pulling the jacket on. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he murmurs, grabbing hold of the wheel again.

I can feel the heat of his mocha gaze on me, but I make a point of not meeting it as I busy myself with turning the lapels up and tugging the front closed around myself to keep the midnight chill at bay.

As regardless of the one too many ways we've found ourselves up close and personal over the past hour, this is now a transactional relationship — pure and simple. So, I'm not going to indulge him with anything beyond that. It's a bad idea to play Russian roulette, and I have no intention of becoming physically (...much less emotionally!) entangled with someone who holds the keys to my proverbial release.

Making myself comfortable — albeit at the expense of now being scent-marked by the lingering spice of his aftershave, which I force myself to ignore — I let my focus drift over the shadowy forms outside the car as they zip past us on our way back down to the capital, wondering if I've just backed myself into the very corner that he warned me about.

But, I must have dozed off at some point, for the next thing I know, I am being shaken gently awake.

"Harper..."

Opening my eyes groggily, I find Dallas — Drake — looking at me with that impenetrable gaze of his.

I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "Where are we?"

"At a safe house," he replies, unclipping the seatbelt he had apparently pulled over me at some point while I was passed out. "Not far from the marina."

"What time is it?" I ask, stifling a yawn.

"Still early," he advises, exiting the Porsche, the slam of his door echoing across the exposed concrete of the underground garage he had parked us in.

Arriving at the other side of the car, he pulls the door open for me and holds out his hand.

Ignoring the offer of assistance, I swing my legs out to push myself up to standing on slightly wobbly feet, my body still in the process of shaking off the vestiges of sleep.

"You good?" he asks, peering down at me.

"Yeah," I affirm, slipping his jacket pointedly off and handing it back to him.

He doesn't look like he believes me, but he nods nevertheless. "This way," he prompts, tilting his head towards the back of the space.

Following behind, he leads me through a heavy-looking metal door and into an airy, white-washed hallway with terracotta flooring that opens up into a spacious, open-plan kitchen with vaulted ceilings and arched windows through which the dawn is just starting to peek through.

"Fridge should be fully stocked," he advises, striding past the large centre island. "And there's coffee, if you want it."

I nod silently, casting my eyes around the minimalist, but nevertheless welcoming interior... which definitely tends towards more executive Vrbo than run-of-the-mill safe house.

"Bedroom's this way," he advises, turning down a corridor. "Your clothes should be in there already."

I blink. "My clothes?"

"Figured you'd want to get changed," he shrugs. "So, I called ahead and got the bags from your rental moved up here."

"Of course you did..." I mutter, stepping after him.

This guy is nothing, if not thorough...

Entering the room, I am greeted by a four-poster bed, breezy white drapes that kiss the floor, and a cavernous en-suite... with no door.

Great...

"You hungry?"

His question catches me off guard. Twisting back 'round, I find him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, watching me.

I suddenly feel naked under the weight of his dark gaze. "I..."

"I can cook something up," he clarifies.

My discomposure evaporates in a blaze of disbelief. "You... cook?"

He cracks out a laugh — warm and rich, like a perfectly brewed macchiato. "Call it a hobby."

"Umm... Okay," I accede, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind my ear while I try... and fail once again to figure this guy out. "Surprise me."

"Yes, ma'am," he agrees with a lopsided smirk as he turns away.

I let out an explosive breath as he rounds the corner and disappears back down the corridor.

Who is this guy?

I shake my head. "It doesn't matter..."

I'm not planning to stick around long enough to find out, and I'm not interested in the answer anyway. This is a temporary set-up, and once I help him steal whatever it is that needs stealing, we'll go our separate ways.

Decision reaffirmed, I turn back into the room, where I find my bags stacked neatly against the foot of the bed.

Grabbing the larger of the two suitcases, I quickly extract an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boyshort undies. Since I fully expect to just hang around the safe house today, there's no need for anything fancier, and I'm definitely not going to be giving Drake any mixed signals by dressing up for him.

Locating my bag of toiletries as well, I make my way into the bathroom.

Stepping through the curved archway, I am greeted by an oasis of calm. Cream-coloured tiles lead to a claw-foot tub nestled under a large window, beyond which sits a waterfall cave shower complete with steam and pressure jets.

Four Seasons, eat your heart out.

Dropping my clothes on the floor, I quickly pull my heels off and shimmy out of my dress. Grabbing a fluffy Turkish cotton towel, I make a beeline towards the shower, eager to get under the spray and wash the night away.

Slapping the faucet onto its hottest setting, I step under the flow, and let out a sigh as the steam envelopes me, melting the tension that has built up inside of me over the past 24-hours out of me.

Once I'm sufficiently sous vide'd, I set about washing the hairspray out of my hair, and the make-up off of my face before turning the water off somewhat reluctantly.

The long soak had been a welcome reprieve, but as much as I may want to, I can't hide in here forever. Especially since I am now genuinely hungry.

Peeking out of the shower, I check to see that the coast is clear, before slipping out to quickly envelope myself in the towel.

I'm not shy about my body per se, but given the already delicate tightrope I'm having to navigate with the guy, I don't want to get caught in a — potentially even more! — compromising situation with Drake. Because as hot as he is, and as great as he is with his tongue, I can't afford to tip across that line with him... And him seeing me naked after that heated kiss on the bridge would only be adding fuel to the already dangerous fire simmering between us.

Which is why I make a special point to not doing anything with my hair apart from squeezing any excess water out of it, or even bothering to put on any make-up. As the fewer ideas I can put in his mind, the better — for both of us.

Dropping the towel, I quickly pull the fresh clothes on, before walking back out into the bedroom...

...and straight into a tell-tale smell wafting in from the kitchen.

I scoff. "He didn't..."

But the ambrosia emanating from the other end of the corridor leaves little room for doubt, and I feel my mouth start to water as I'm pulled almost unwittingly towards the source.

Poking my head around the corner, I can't help but gasp as my suspicions are confirmed. "Are you making... pancakes?"

"You told me to surprise you," he throws over his shoulder as he catches the crêpe he's just flipped into the air.

"When I said that, I wasn't expecting... this," I admit, taking in the rest of the spread jostling for space on the centre island with a slack-jawed expression.

While I'd been soaking myself in the shower, Drake had whipped up a pair of ham and cheese omelettes, a steaming pot of coffee, as well as a carafe of what looks like freshly squeezed orange juice. Not to mention the small tower of pancakes that he has just put the finishing touches on.

"Good," he grins, flipping the gas off on the cooktop, and stowing the pan. "Wouldn't want to disappoint on the first day, now, would I?"

"Technically, we're into day t—"

I very narrowly catch my jaw from smacking into the countertop as he turns to face me.

At some point during the prep process, he had thrown the buttons of his shirt open — whether to stop it from getting splattered, or whether to keep himself cool — with the result that the perfect ridges of his abs and the toned mounds of his pecs were now on full, unadulterated display... making my body crave a very different kind of meal.

I jerk my gaze away before he can realise that I'm staring.

Keep it together, Harper! Neither of you needs any encouragement, remember?

"So, umm..." I cough to clear my suddenly patched throat as I reach for the coffee. "Where did you learn to do all this?"

"My dad," he admits, placing the plate of pancakes down on the island. "He was an amazing cook."

"Was?" I ask, my gaze jumping upwards on its own accord to meet his in surprise.

"Was," he confirms, lowering himself onto a bar stool across from me, and tugging his shirt mercifully closed.

"I'm sorry," I say sincerely, passing him the caffeine. Having grown up without a family myself, I know the feeling of that particular pain all too well.

"Don't be," he replies, refilling his mug. "He died doing what he signed up for, which was protecting his country."

I reach for the pancakes. "Is that why you became a spy?"

"No," he scoffs, as if at some private joke, shunting some jam, lemons and sugar my way. "You don't apply to IMF. You get picked. Whether you want to be, or not."

I nearly spread jam all up my arm, instead of over my pancake. "What do you mean?"

"Let's just say that I ended up in a corner. And just like you, I wasn't really in a position to bargain my way out of it."

"Not a great feeling, is it?" I point out dryly, rolling my crêpe up.

"Nope," he affirms, taking a swig of his coffee. "But I got a second lease on life, so I ain't too sour."

I quirk a brow at him. "That's the third time you've done that."

"Done what?"

"Said 'ain't'," I tell him 'round a mouthful of pancake — which, I have to admit, tastes just as good as it smelt, and literally melts in my mouth.

"So?"

"So, which state are you from?" I press. "Kentucky? Georgia? Tennessee?"

"Texas," he replies tersely. "Not that it matters anymore."

"Why not?"

He heaves a low exhale. "I'm a ghost. I don't officially exist. I'm not in any government system and every passport I have is a fake."

I look upon him with new eyes. "You can never go back to your old life, can you?"

"No."

"Neither can I," I admit, stuffing the last of the crêpe into my mouth and reaching for an omelette.

He watches me silently for a long moment. "D'you want to?"

I shake my head. "You?"

"I'm not sure anymore."

My gaze lifts to meet his, and within those deep mocha depths, I am surprised to find specks of sadness, floating like lost leaves down a river.

An unexpected lump forms in my throat. "I'm sorry..."

"You don't need to keep apologising."

"I know, but—"

He lays a hand on my arm. "The choices I made were my own. No one else's."

The heat of his palm burns into my skin, and I suddenly realise I've made a huge mistake by engaging him. As in the course of our seemingly innocent conversation, we ended up straying out of the safety of the professional, and into the minefield of the personal.

Gulping down the final bite, I shoot out of my seat. "Thanks for cooking! This was—"

I barely make it half a step before his hand shoots out to intercept me.

Jerking my head across the counter, I find him staring at me with all the latent intensity of a wolf on the hunt.

"Wh-what?" I challenge, hoping he doesn't notice the slight tremble in my voice.

"You missed a spot."

"Wha—?"

He tugs me forward. "Just here."

I stumble to a stop before him, palm subconsciously flying out to seek purchase against his chest in a bid to steady myself.

He raises his free hand to wipe the lone smear of jam from my cheek.

I stand, rooted to the spot as our gazes meet against my better judgment... and I suddenly find myself falling into his cinnamon-flecked irises.

His thumb brushes against the corner of my lips. "Damn, you're beautiful..."

My mouth parts on its own volition...

...and the next thing I know, my lips are crushed against his.

Permatags

@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14 @kingliam2019 @petiteboheme @angelasscribbles @aussiegurl1234 @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tessa-liam @alyshak92 @secretaryunpaid @princessleac1 @walkerdrakewalker @tinkie1973 @twinkle-320 @knaussal @nikkis1983 @lunaseasblog @ficloverevie @indiana-jr @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kristinamae093 @eversoaringqueen12 @3pawandme  @alexabeta @veebug8 @fanfiction-she-wrote @queenmiarys @lancelotsimp @coco-lina-s @lolablackwrites @ivyflowers13 @persephone13 @hollygirl1269 @adri-ja-96 @harleybeaumont @katedrakeohd @uneravine @alj4890 @mywildheartremains

Picture credits:

Drake - Kiss - Harper - Cooking

[kittiwittebane]

HUNTLOW WEEK FIRST PROMPT!

HALLOWEEN/HOOTY!!

//TIME FRAME//:THE HALLOWEEN AFTER WAD//WARNINGS:

Luz is American and therefore would use American English words, but I am a British English (mainly) speaker, so if I mention something that is not American or does not exist in America, I apologise. Example: Lollies VS candy. I use lollies and America (apparently, not gonna assume) uses candy. I’ll try to use the correct terminology, but in all due respect, this is Fanfiction, not a published novel from the greatest writer in the world.

References: MOVIE: A Quiet Place//NETFLIX//M RATED//HORROR/SCI-FI//(Recommend, good 👍)

Hunter picked up his scroll as a notification pinged on the screen. Luz.

__________________

BADGIRLCOVEN_

Heyyyyy 😀!

Sleepover at the owl house tonight! 😁

RULERZREACHF4N

LUz gO awa.y im sTUdiy/in.g tonight

BADGIRLCOVEN_

Willows going to be there 😏

RULERZREACHF4N

…

I m.eAn i ha’v. A little biT o.f ti,me ma8be

BADGIRLCOVEN_

Knew it.

See you there!

5:00pm.

HALLOWEEN PARTYYYY!

___________________

Hunter cursed himself under his breath. Why did he say yes because Willow was going to be there? He knew now that his feelings for her were called ‘romantic’ and ‘a crush’, but all he’s going to get is teasing and he knows it. He sighed, getting off of his computer that Camila had given him. He walked downstairs, still cursing himself.

“Uh- Darius?” Hunter asked cautiously. Not his first time asking about something, but something about this made him feel nervous.

“Yes, little prince?”

“Uh, Luz has invited me to a ‘halloween party’. Can I go?” Hunter twiddled his thumbs together. Darius gave him a blank look.

“Yeah sure,” Darius replied. “Not like we are doing anything.” He placed a glass of Clawhey’s Extra Strong Boor on the table. “I’m having someone over anyways. Not like it’ll inconvenience that.”

Hunter nodded as if taking this very seriously. “Right. But uh, you were a teenager once right?”

Darius gave him a confused stare. “No way.” he snorted. “Thought I was born at forty-five.”

Hunter blushed. “That’s not- I mean-” He spluttered frantically. “How do you like… wow someone?” Cringy jazz hands were displayed to Darius in hope of them somehow increasing the knowledge to the situation.

“You want to impress someone?” Darius’s curiosity arose, despite having a very good idea of who.

“N-no! It’s like.. Hypothetically…?” Hunter stuttered awkwardly, his tooth gap showing as his face progressively turned a brighter hue of red.

“Well your Captain likes flowers so-” he cut himself off to admire the beautiful shade his son’s face, ears and apparently arms had so quickly turned to after the mention of his captain.

“Ex-excuse me!?” Hunter spluttered. “Who said this had anything to do with-”

“Hunter, I’m not stupid. You talk about her twenty-four/seven. There are pictures of her on your desk. And I found one under your pillow. Don’t play dumb. Like… everyone except her knows you are soft for her.” Darius continued, purely to annoy Hunter to the point where the boy’s body turns the same shade of crimson that his ears had. Hunter’s jaw had dropped so much that Darius could stuff Hunter’s ‘secret’ bi flag in it. Darius’s lips curled into a smirk.

“What, little prince?” his smirk only grew, Hunter becoming speechless. The blonde boy made a series of intelligible noises, each one being understandable in every way possible to his adoptive father’s ears. Darius shook his head.

“Go get ready.” he instructed the stuttering, hormonal teenage boy. Hunter shut his eyes and just accepted this.

“Will do.” he squeaked.

______________________

Hunter turned up at The Owl House cautiously. He knocked.

“Hooty, who is it?” Luz’s voice yelled. Hooty stuck his head out the window.

“Hoot hoot! It’s the weird blonde kid with the crush on Willow!” Hooty shouted back to Luz. Hunter blushed furiously.

“HOOTY!” he hissed. “My name is Hunter!” Hunter paused. “And I don’t have a crush on Willow.” he flushed, rubbing his arm. He looked down.

“Suuuuuuuurre!” Hooty mocked him. “I read the thing you wrote.”

Hunter’s head whipped up, flashback of the notebook he’d written his feelings in. TITAN! Hunter panicked.

“What writing?” he faltered, failing to hide the fact he had, in fact, written something a little bit… hormonal, to say it one way.

(:O Not like dat you dirty mind >:O)

“Don’t try to hide it with the names ‘O’Bailey’ and ‘Lily’. We aaaaallll know it’s just Hunter and Willowww!” Hooty nodded. Hunter sighed in relief. Hooty had only found his O’Bailey X Lily fanfiction. Not his diary. Hooty continued to babble on about his fanfiction, while Luz came to the door and let Hunter in.

“Even Hooty knows you have a massive crush on Willow, Hunter! How does she not realise it?!”

“Shhh Luz!” Hunter snapped.

“She’s not here, stop worrying.”

Luz complained impatiently. “Why can’t you just ask her out! You’re worse than me and Amity!”

A small gasp was heard from the room beside them, just as they were about to walk in.

“We weren’t that bad!” Amity’s lip wobbled fakely. Luz just smiled and shook her head. Hunter and Luz sat down with Amity, Gus and Vee. Now they were only waiting on Willow.

*WILLOW FINALLY TURNS UP :D*

“Willow!” Luz greeted her friend with a hug. Hunter smiled adoringly, watching from just beside the walls to the next room.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, kid?”

Hunter whipped around and smacked Eda in the face in a fight response.

“EDA!” he snapped. “You frightened me!”

Eda gifted Hunter with a rude stare. Raine showed up beside her.

“He’s looking at Willow.” Raine explained. “Haven't you noticed his extremely noticeable crush?”

Eda looked at Raine blankly. She shook her head. Raine sighed, abandoning any plan to try and help Eda understand. It wasn’t going to work. Hunter proceeded to turn what now seemed to be his face’s normal colour. He dismissed them both, walking back to the room. He could hear Willow’s footsteps as her and Luz approached the room. While Willow came in and sat down, Luz walked straight past the door. She started into a sprint, quite quickly coming back with small black boxes. She handed one to each of them.

“I got us all a little something. I know Hallween is a one-night thing, but you can use these whenever you want!” she exclaimed excitedly. Gus went straight into ripping his open.

“Oh, cool!” Gus grinned, pulling out a pair of bat pyjamas. Willow’s eyes lit up at the sight of Gus’s present. She opened hers as quickly as Gus had opened his. But in a more calm manner. She pulled out some black pumpkin pyjamas with vines all over the sleeves.

“Awww!” She held the cloth up to her face. “Thank you Luz!”

The rest of them, now intrigued, opened theirs. Amity pulled out a pair with black cats on them, while Vee found a witchy themed one in her hands. Hunter was the last to do so, and he took out his own one, which had werewolves on them. Forgetting where he was, and only caring about the fact they had wolves on them, Hunter’s eyes became wide as pans and seemed to shimmer. He hugged the pyjamas. The rest of the group giggled, and Hunter snapped back to reality. He coughed.

“I mean they’re cool I guess.” Hunter mumbled. Willow giggled softly and Hunter turned to her. His face returned to the carmine colour it has been so frequently this week. Willow thought that was cute.

“Heh, your face is all red.” she giggled. Hunter went a brighter shade of ruby. Luz clapped her hand together loudly, snapping everyone’s attention back to her.

“I wanted to go trick-or-treating but I decided that if I just bought the candy and we had a halloween sleepover it would be cool?” Luz explained.

“Yeah!” Hunter smiled, still ecstatic about his new pyjamas. He’s adorable… Willow thought. Without any warning, Luz pulled out a bag from under her bed and then proceeded to pull out bags of candy. Starbursts, Skittles, M&M’s, random chocolate bars that nobody bothered to read the label on. Though it probably wasn’t the best idea, Luz put on a movie on the TV she’d managed to shove through the portal, and they watched a movie while eating tons of candy. Luz had found a horror movie called A Quiet Place. They all huddled together on the couch.

“This might be a bit scary.” Luz announced quite loudly. Hunter, not waiting to show fear even though after reading the description was terrified, he smirked.

“The only one who would be scared is you, Luz. I’ve lived as the Golden Guard on the Boiling Isles for as long as I can remember.”

Luz grinned. “Of course, Hunter.” she nodded solemnly. “You are the strongest of them all.” she bowed to him. Hunter did not appreciate the mock. Luz turned the lights off and they sat down, facing the TV, Vee was on the very far right end, then Amity, Luz, Hunter, Willow, Gus.

“Whatever Luz. I guess we will see when the movie starts.”

*ABOUT 10 MINUTES IN*

Hunter was tense. Not a little bit, he was really really tense. The suspense of the movie scared him. The fact that there was no talking was freaky. The blanket Hunter had somehow acquired at some point during the movie was only allowing his eyes to be shown.he was wrapped up in it, but Luz being the sibling she is, decided to steal it.

“Hey!” Hunter whined. “I was using that!” Luz just snickered.

“Lol do not caaare!” she sang. Hunter whimpered. That was his safe space! He turned back to the movie, curling up timidly. A minute later, he got a tap on the shoulder.

“We can share if you want.” a small, soft voice whispered. Hunter turned to see Willow holding her blanket open. He blushed furiously, hoping the fact that the lights were off hid it.

“Itsfineiamok.” Hunter mumbled quickly. (It’s fine I am ok). Willow beckoned him to share with her. He tried to say no but she didn’t give up. His blush did not calm down as he finally agreed. He moved over a little bit. Willow noticed he was shy, and moved the rest of the way for him. She wrapped the blanket around him and moved a tiny bit closer. Their shoulders were touching, and Willow decided to close the small gap they had between them. She leant on him, unaware of the dark scarlet colour that had just overtaken the small ruby hue that dusted his cheeks. Slowly, due to the lack of noise, Willow fell asleep. Her head rested on Hunter’s shoulder. Usually, she’d be snoring. But she’d knocked herself out with sugar.

Oh my Titan… Hunter whined inwardly. She looks so peaceful and beautiful when she sleeps… maybe I should… hmm…

And to that thought, Hunter’s mind shut down and sleep overtook him. His head fell onto Willow’s. Absent-mindedly, Hunter’s body decided that Willow was a stuffed toy and he hugged her firmly.

MEANWHILE>>>

“OH MY TITANNNNN!” Luz whispered urgently. “EEEEEEEEEEE!”

Amity looked at her girlfriend, then saw the scene behind her.

“Ew.” Amity retched quietly.

“QUICK AMITY WHERE THE TITAN IS MY PHONE?!” Luz panicked. She fumbled the blankets as quietly as she could to find it.

“Hehe blackmail.” was the last thing she said before taking the photo and falling asleep with Amity.

[remythologise]

You win as always I just started watching IWTV hope it won’t disappoint but I trust you completely after Black Sails.

Do you have the list of the things you would force people to watch if you could?

This is such a delightful ask thank you so much!! I look forward to hearing your thoughts when you finish season 2!!!

It’s definitely a harder question because I do force people to watch it based on their tastes (i.e. I have forced my Tumblr besties to watch at least three different movies released in 2011 for gay subtext as the main recommendation factor but would not do this to my work colleagues)… HOWEVER!!! Based on broad factors of what I HAVE in the past forced my friends/loved ones to watch these are the winners…

ROMANCE/ROM-COM Crash Landing on You This is the best rom com ever made.* Nothing has ever brought my mom AND dad to laughter, tears, and had them BOTH proclaim ‘5 stars’. I cannot recommend this show strongly enough to anyone who has remotely liked a single rom com, ever.**

COMEDY Galavant Niche audience of people who love fantasy and musicals includes ME motherfucker!

Honourable mention: Deadloch, Utopia (AU), Derry Girls This is really just a series of non-American comedies I would recommend to people if they hadn’t seen it. Deadloch specifically I am SHOCKED and APPALLED more people on Tumblr are not on top of and AM continually threatening my friends with a gun to watch it, or else!!

HORROR Hannibal and IWTV Both absolutely all-time must watches but only for people that would be into that sort of thing (sickos with taste) and not look at me weirdly afterwards for recommending it.

CRIME/THRILLERS The Devil Judge and Beyond Evil Crazy how these two shows came out at like, the same time, were both so similar in terms of the Wildly Gay Subtextual Leads Dynamic and so good. And they (were) both on Netflix!! Beyond Evil is definitely more refined BUT The Devil Judge is also so good and wild and such camp fun… you couldn’t go wrong with either if you enjoy having a fun gay time, particularly not if you like shows just to the left of Hannibal/IWTV.

FANTASY  Word of Honour and The Untamed These are not all-timers because they are ‘objectively well-made’ they are all timers because I shake my friends by the shoulders and yell "I had the absolute most fun gay fantasy romance time watching them and you will too!"

HISTORICAL Spartacus and Black Sails Everyone talks about Black Sails on this website but not enough people talk about how Spartacus walked so Black Sails could run. Much more extreme R-rated and/or triggering content in Spartacus though so I do understand. Nevertheless something I do end up recommending to my male friends a lot (and they love it!!).

SCI-FI  Dark REALLY tough category and I didn’t love the ending of this show but decided to pick based on what I'd recommend to the most people on balance. Don't look up spoilers!

For All Mankind Ok I haven’t even finished season 3 of this show so I can’t properly endorse it in full confidence and I’m also biased because I’m currently watching it, but. I simply love to see the BSG showrunner do what he does best: make television. About People, Politics and Situations In Space!

Honourable mention: The OA, In the Flesh and Sense8 These are my ‘wish they weren’t cancelled’*** and I don’t know if I would inflict on people while incomplete. However I just think what they were aiming for was so so unique and good that maybe they’re worth watching anyway!! (***I know Sense8 had the consolation prize movie but it was so rushed and nothing that like. To Me. It doesn't count.)

ANIME Shin Sekai Yori This is definitely the all-time anime I recommend to absolutely everyone. Ignore the middling animation and don’t look up spoilers, the end has one of the most existential ‘reframes the narrative’ plot twists of all time.

Yuri on Ice Speaking of plot twists that reframe the narrative… YOI is an obvious answer but it’s also correct!!! IT WAS BORN TO MAKE HISTORY!!!

FILMS The Handmaiden Limiting myself to ONE film to keep things a little briefer (sorry about the long post!) it was still an easy choice and literally do force my friends to watch it the second I know they haven’t seen it. No spoilers but it’s the IWTV of cinema to me.

*When Harry Met Sally Is of course also the best rom com ever made for its medium and I would be remiss not to include that here as well!

[jerzwriter]

Karma is... a Barbie Premiere (1/2)

I completely blame @jamespotterthefirst for this! It started as a simple edit, then it became a gossip page, and now it's a full-blown fic.

I've long hinted about Dr. Eva Mendoza joining as an OC in my Tobias & Casey world. She's only been briefly introduced once, but what better way to bring her back than for the Boston premiere of the Barbie movie? 💄💗💋 It's definitely a date for the Carrick's, but what about their friends, Ethan & Eva? No one can get a straight answer, and rumors are swirling.

Part 1 of fic below.

Book: Open Heart (Post Series) Pairings: Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey) Ethan Ramsey x F!OC (Eva) - Maybe? Rating: Teen Words: 1,700 Summary: Tobias scores tickets to the biggest event in Boston, and he & Casey each invite a friend. When they learn who each invited, the wheels start spinning. A/N: See above. It's all Bree's fault. lol. This is just a two-parter, and part two will be up later tonight. This was fun, I hope you enjoy it, too! Participating in @choicesflashfics (prompt in bold below)

Part 2 found here

It had been a brutally hot summer in Boston, leaving most residents eager for something to do indoors just to keep cool. That included the doctors at Edenbrook. So Casey was elated when Tobias told her he scored four tickets to the event of the summer, a premiere of the Barbie movie being held by a local charity. She had told him she didn’t mind missing it, but her reaction when he said they’d be going proved otherwise.

“So,” he smiled between breaths as Casey rolled off him and snuggled into his side. “I’m glad to see you really didn’t want to go.”

“Oh, stop,” she giggled with a playful shove. “You know we would have done that anyway.”

“Good point,” he agreed. “Now, who should we offer the other tickets to?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we each pick a friend?”

“Bryce would be all over this, but he’ll be in Hawaii that week.”

“Same with Sienna. That’s the week she’s visiting her family. Jackie would rather have food poisoning.”

“I think you’re right about that,” he laughed. “Don’t worry, we’ll think of someone.”

_____

But with the movie premiere just a week away, neither had picked anyone to go, and they made a pact to correct that by the end of the day. 

Casey was reading an article on her phone in the cafeteria when she heard a familiar voice. Desperate for adult conversation that didn’t involve medicine, she eagerly waved Eva over.

“Hey,” the stunning brunette smiled as she approached Casey’s table. “I saw you, but I didn’t want to interrupt. I thought this might be your only alone time.”

“Nah,” Casey smiled. “Tobias is a great hubby... he makes sure I breathing room when I need it. But what I need now is some mindless girl talk! I haven’t had that in ages!”

“Oh, wonderful,” Eva sighed. “I’ve never been terribly good at mindless girl talk, but I promise I’ll give it my best shot. What are we supposed to discuss? Boys? Make-up? Waxing?”

“No, silly!” Casey laughed. “It can be anything... just not work and nothing too serious. Like, tell me, do you have any summer plans?”

“Mmm, not really,” Eva replied, biting into her sandwich. “My first anniversary at Edenbrook is in September; I don’t have much vacation time until then.”

“Well, that sucks! I hope you’re doing some fun things anyway.”

“Oh, I am! I love exploring Boston. I’ve been going to a bunch of concerts and rollerskating in the parks... It’s sort of my thing!”

“Now, that is something I’d love to do with you!”

“You rollerskate!” Eva enthused.

“Ice skating is more my thing, but... transferable skills. I’m going to have to get a new pair of rollerskates. The last ones I owned were Barbie skates to show you how long it’s been.”

“So... last year,” Eva chuckled. “Sorry, you strike me as a woman who would wear Barbie rollerskates even now. And I don’t mean that as an insult.”

“Mmm,” Casey hummed. “GUILTY! But it really was some time ago.”  Then, a lightbulb went off. “Hey! Wait! Were you a Barbie girl growing up?”

“Not exactly,” Eva sighed sadly. “I wanted to be. It’s so steeped in American culture; it’s a right of passage. But my traditional Greek and Cuban families felt they were too provocative. So, I only got to play with them when I visited my friends’ houses.”

“Well, that sucks!”

“I think my parents would have been OK with it, but my Abuela and Yiayia wielded far too much power with my Mother in those days. My father sneaked me off to the Barbie section when he took me to the toy store. He also encouraged playdates with Mindy Schumacker, and I believe her rivaling the Barbie Dreamhouse had something to do with it.”

“I think I’d like your Dad!” Casey smiled.

“I’m certain you would.”

“Well, I would be a failure as a physician if I didn’t do my part to help cure your Barbie Deficiency Syndrome! Tobias and I are going to the premiere at the IMAX next week, and I have a spare ticket. Want to join us?”

“Wait! Those tickets are impossible to get? How’d you score them?”

“My husband is a miracle worker,” Casey winked. “And he loves spoiling me.”

Eva shook her head. “I’ve known you a while now; I attended your wedding and witnessed that man being the most doting husband and father I’ve ever seen... but it’s still hard for me to reconcile that he’s the same man I knew back at Kenmore.”

“Well, love has a way of doing things to people. But I know he’d love it if you joined us. What do you say, are you in?”

“Oh, you couldn’t keep me away!”

_____  

Tobias stepped into the Diagnostic Teams office, humming a song vaguely familiar to Ethan as he entered. Looking up from his paperwork, Dr. Ramsey feigned annoyance with his friend. 

“I don’t understand how you’re always so chipper. You have a newborn and don’t sleep.”

“She’s three months old now, not a newborn.”

“Practically ready to go off to college then!” Ethan teased. “What were you humming... was that... Taylor Swift.”

Tobias raised a brow. “And what if it was? I have an excuse for humming it twenty-four/seven, and it’s called Casey. But what’s your story for knowing it?”

“Also, Casey! I’m trying to be supportive with her returning to work part-time, so I let her play the godforsaken stuff when we’re in here together.”

“She really can convince anyone to do anything, can’t she. Do you like any songs?”

"No."

Tobias stared at his friend with a wicked grin. "You always were a terrible liar. 'Fess up! What are your favorite Taylor songs?"

Ethan sat back in his chair and rocked as if deep in thought. “Some of her work from Folklore and Evermore is quite appealing. But if you tell Casey, I’ll fire you.”

“My lips are sealed,” Tobias laughed. “I heard you canceled your trip to the Cape. Everything all right? I’m happy to take over some of your work if you need help.”

“I appreciate the offer, but it’s not canceled. Just delayed. I was foolish to plan it around budget time.”

Tobias rubbed his chin as he studied his friend, his concern growing. “You know, Ethan... I’ve been a little worried about you. I’m a new dad, and I do more fun things than you. You need to work some playtime into your life.”

“Please,” Ethan groused. “I hope you’re not suggesting another boys' night out with Lahela. I have neither the budget nor the energy.”

“You damn well do have the budget! As for the energy, I can see how it's hard at your age. But you have to push through.”

“I’m a year older than you!” Ethan reminded.

“But you act twenty-two years older!”

“I can’t help it if you’re immature,” Ethan countered with a grin.

“Say! Case and I are going to the premiere of the Barbie movie next week...”

“She has you so pecked,” Ethan chuckled.

Ignoring him, Tobias informed him he had an extra ticket, Ethan was coming, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I’m more of an Oppenheimer person. Barbie isn’t exactly my thing.”

“I don’t care; you’re coming.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Fine,” Tobias grinned, picking up his phone and pretending to dial. “I hate to do this, but you leave me no choice.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m letting Casey know how much you loved Folklore and Evermore. I’m even going to fabricate and tell her you’re experimenting with Midnights; she should play that for you on her next shift. Don’t worry, Ethan. You’ll love it!”

“Hang up that phone right now,” Ethan ordered.

“Too late!” Tobias smirked. “Casey, baby, how’s your day going? Guess who's coming with us to see Barbie? Ethan! I know it’ll be a blast. See you at home soon, hon.”

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

“Hey, it’s joining us at the Barbie movie once and maybe... gasp... having some fun... or listening to Taylor on loop for the remainder of time. I think you made a wise choice, Ethan.”  

“I didn’t make a choice!”

“Oh, you did,” Tobias winked as he left the room. “You’ll need to wear something pink!” he hollered as he entered the hall.

“I don’t own anything pink!”

“Good, you have time to fix that!”

_____   

Tobias opened the front door to his home and couldn’t help but smile. Casey stood just beyond the foyer, holding little Sammy on her hip as they danced to The Temptation's “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg.” 

“Look!” Casey beamed, pointing towards him. “Daddy’s home! Now he can dance with us, too!”

“You better believe I am,” Tobias grinned. He took Sammy from Casey, then wrapped his arms around her hips. “I’m so glad you’re giving our daughter a balanced musical diet. It can’t be all Taylor, all the time.”

“Hey, my love of Motown is what sealed the deal and made you fall in love with me,” Casey said, kissing his cheek.

“Heh,” Tobias snickered. “It certainly impressed me, but that wasn’t what sealed the deal.”

“Oh, really, then what did?”

“Not in front of the baby, dear,” he grinned. “But hey, speaking of Taylor Swift, your fellow fan at work is joining us at the Barbie movie next week.”

“My fellow fan? I told you Sienna is away next week.”  

“I know, but I’m talking about Ramsey.”

“ETHAN? Ethan is coming with us to the Barbie premiere?”

“Yeah,” Tobias replied. “He really needs to expand his horizons. I hope it’s OK with you.”

“Of course! It’s just... he doesn’t seem like the Barbie type.”         

“He’s not,” Tobias laughed. “But we’re going to have so much fun with this. I even told him to wear pink!"

"We're going to have fun, for sure! But Ethan? The jury is out on that. There’s just one tiny problem, babe. I asked Eva to come along.”

Tobias’s face fell. “Oh, shit. They’re totally going to think we’re trying to hook them up.”

“Which we’re not,” Casey replied. “I mean, I would... but this wasn’t our intention.”  

“Maybe not,” Tobias smirked. “But you know... me and karma vibe like that.”

“T.,” Casey said, shaking her head. “Please leave inserting Taylor quotes into situations to me... but... we are going to have so much fun with this!”

Tobias jiggled Samantha on his lap. “You hear that, Sammy? Your Mommy’s got ideas in that head. No one is safe now.”

Part 2 found here

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[despair-to-future-arcs]

Anything else on the Nevermind family?

CHIAKI: So your father let you see an R-rated film?

Well not exactly, I think he was expecting me to pick a more child-friendly film and his film was starting so he didn't have time, I know mother was pretty cross with him but we did laugh about it as it was a mistake.

CHIAKI: Well at least there were no hard feelings...

No and if asking, I do get along well with my other relatives; in fact my cousin, Gordana show me more horror films whenever I visit uncle Daniel which I was quite close to them.

CHIAKI: Gordana? hmm, I'm checking your family folder and it says that there is no family member named that - I did find Gordan, however.

Oh wait, you did? I guess they didn't update it and using her dead name instead.

CHIAKI: A dead name...?

Oh sorry, I'm sure you must be confused but the thing is that Gordana was transitioning around 2009, the thing is that Gordana was originally born a boy name 'Gordon' but was transition when I was going to enroll, we all been quite supportive of her for the transition as well when she discover this at 18.

CHIAKI: Right I see, thank you for the correction - I'll be sure to update the information, anyway can you speak about your relationship with your cousin?

Well as say, me and my cousin were getting ready to watch a film...

But she was also helping me calm my nerves as my coronation was coming quite soon and of course, I was nervous.

...

...

...

Date: October 11th, 2009

*As then the door open*

Oh Sonia, how've you been?

Wonderful, Gordana! Thank you for asking - I'm honestly quite excited to watch some horror movies and anime with you.

Oh yes of course, come with me - we can start watching together.

*the 2 walk down the hall, seeing images which Sonia came across 2*

So how has the transitioning so far?

Been taking some medication which has been a bit hard to do, they say that my operation could start around spring, maybe March or April at the latest.

To be honest I was nervous of how father and the rest of the family would respond given how other countries are far worse about this.

Nonsense Gordana, you know that Novoselic is quite safe with LGBT rights and was one of the first country's to recognize trans people.

After all, I think regardless of gender; your still quite beautiful and people should not judge you for that.

Right... thank you, Sonia - at least the rest of the family have been quite supportive of my transitioning and honestly it was silly how it was for assuming the worse.

Anyway, here we are - I got a bunch of movies and anime we can watch so pick whatever you like.

Oh that's great, I really want to watch some anime and Japanese drama! *Sonia rushes over and looks at the set*

Oh hey Gordana, what about this one? I really want to watch this one.

Oh, death note? I suppose we can watch that, I suppose the mystery aspect gets you?

Well yes, of course - as say I think the premise does look interesting and a lot of fun so let's watch that.

Okay, let's do that then Sonia.

*Gordana sets the DVD which the 2 began watching...*

...

...

...

*After a couple of hours, they were finish the last episode...*

...Goodness, so that's how Kira was caught.

Right... honestly I felt it was more exciting when L was alive, I think their rivalry was the best part.

Right, honestly I feel the same too; I think Light had a pretty good rival but still a really good mystery no doubt.

And my birthday is coming up, honestly I'm rather nervous...

Right... your going to be coronated as your mother's heir, correct?

[starsarefire824]

Normally I keep to basic tags or empty reblogs for this fandom, but I'm gonna open my mouth for this one. Sorry if you don't want this in an ask but I felt it was more appropriate to send it here than as a comment on your post.

I didn't even know what vore was until today (how tf did I dodge that coming from the spn fandom lmao). One more thing to filter out I guess. Anyways. I assume it's implied that the anon was asking about vore as a sexual kink, otherwise they'd have used other terminology. In this fandom, yes it apparently incriminates people that age up characters. That is a no-no here since the characters are canonically under 18. There's also an assumption in this fandom that minors are not the one creating and/or consuming this content.

"I'm confused, do teenage boys not get hardons?" Apparently in this fandom, no. They don't. Or they do but you can't acknowledge it. (Also, just want you to know that when I read this I legit lol'd. The problem at that age is usu preventing boners. Getting one is easy.)

For some reason, this fandom has deemed violence is more morally/ethically appropriate than even a hint of sexuality. They view that sexualizing characters under 18 in any way, including even kissing (idk if you were here for that), is unacceptable. That being said, that difference in moral/ethical correctness might be marginal. There's still some backlash against violence and dark themes.

It doesn't make sense to me since the show literally has scenes with sex and sex jokes with teenage characters as well as physical and sexual violence against children. Yet. If someone points out or analyzes these things, they will be bullied sometimes to the point of leaving (idk if you were here for hosegate or when people were being called out for analyzing the rape metaphors in s1 and s2). The environment here is such that it is impossible to have a good faith discussion about these topics... And if you can't discuss it bc it's so taboo then exploring these things in writing or art, even if it's just implied, is also taboo. And these are just for the topics already in the show.

Yes like you said it's purity culture. It is funny to me that in this case, cannibalism is OK but vore isn't. And it's also funny to me that a love scene would be less acceptable than cannibalism since sex is not OK (graphic or implied) but violence is OK (graphic or implied). And if fiction tastes reflect people irl (not my belief, but has been a repeated topic of fandom discourse) then the fandom is more OK with cannibalism irl than making love. It's wild.

Sorry for writing so much and getting a bit off topic there 😅

Uhm, THANK YOU SO MUCH for dropping this in my inbox. I completely agree with all of your points.

And pretty much sums up the entire point I've been trying to make since I've been in this fandom. I will never, ever, understand, the very American pov I might add, that approves of violence, lets their children watch violent films and play M rated violent video games, but then won't let those same kids go see the PG 13 or R rated movie because tHe ChAraCteRs HaVe sEx for fifteen seconds. And if it's a movie about a person experiencing sexual violence? Forget about it. That's the only kind of violence they won't let their kids see.

I've seen it time and time again with people in my life, my parents themselves to an extent, and definitely extended family were like that when I was younger.

[kochanski]

Three Heel Clicks and Straight On 'til Morning (rated E)

No content warnings apply, identity issues/mistaken identity, anal, slight praise kink/making ~love~

Summary: Ace returns to Starbug! Well, Rimmer does. And he hasn't learned a damned thing during his travels, by the way, and you can't make him, because life lessons are about more than dressing up as some B-movie action hero and having tons of gay sex. Or a lack thereof. Except maybe he doesn't mind the part where everyone likes Ace. And maybe it's better to keep that going than to admit that plain, boring, horrible old Rimmer's finally found his way back home. And maybe Lister seems to like Ace a little too much, and maybe Rimmer likes that Lister likes Ace a little too much...

"Got us a live one. Distress call from the next dimension over."

"No! No, no, no, no, no," Rimmer sunk into his seat, pulling the blasted wig over his eyes. "We've only just gotten here! What could be so important in the next dimension that we have to leave the one universe where world peace was achieved?"

"World peace? The Earth got hit by a meteor."

"Precisely. Peace and quiet. No space fascists to fight, no weird paradoxes, no problems that everyone expects me to show up and solve for them just because I got emotionally manipulated into pretending to be Captain Smeghead for the rest of my short un-life…"

"Well, you don't have to do this. You could go find a replacement," Wildfire grumbled, but they both knew why that wasn't on the table. "Anyways, this is important. It's you in trouble this time."

"Somehow it always is," Rimmer sighed. "Fine. But you'd better find a way to make it up to me. I was going to have a lovely weekend geologically categorizing space shrapnel, and now I'm stuck swooping in for a rescue mission like some sexed-up cartoon action hero."

---

Starbug.

He hadn't seen it in a while, and it caught Rimmer off-guard for a moment. Strange to think he'd hated it, once, but after having tasted freedom, he had to admit the ugly pea-soup-green was almost a comfort. He'd had it so good, hadn't he? Just three other people to worry about. Not whole civilizations or anything. And at least if he accidentally destroyed the boys, it was more or less a public service. Not so for the number he'd done on Atlantis.

"The distress call is coming from Starbug, you said?"

"From inside Starbug," Wildfire corrected him. "It's strange- judging by the readings, it's coming from a much smaller ship. Almost as though there were a miniature Starbug in the belly of this one."

"Believe it or not, I've seen stranger things get pregnant in my time. Alright, take us in."

He took a moment to adjust himself, did a few red-leather-yellow-leathers to get himself into the voice.

"Rimmer- there's something I should tell you about this dimension," Wildfire started, completely breaking his concentration.

"What have I told you about calling me that? If I'm going to be Ace, you need to call me Ace. I'm a method actor, for crying out loud! I need immersion."

"Right, then, nevermind. I'm sure Ace can figure it out all by himself."

"Well, don't get tetchy," Rimmer frowned. "You know, passive-aggression is a horrible trait for an artificial intelligence to have. Particularly one that doesn't have the excuse of being left online for three million years."

"Better than being a twit in an auburn wig," Wildfire shot back, but she adjusted their speed and made for the docking bay. "Opening communications."

"Wait- I'm not ready!"

---

"So good to see ya, man," Lister said, squeezing him hard.

"Good to see you too, chum," Rimmer said, trying his best to be as much of an Ace-hole as he could. It was always such an odd thing for him.

On the one hand, Ace was beloved by everyone, until he invariably smegged something up and accidentally killed a world leader. Of course he liked to keep that going as long as he could.

On the other, though, it was difficult to keep composure when everyone was so damned affectionate with him all the time. This wasn't any love or friendship he'd earned, but tasting it even temporarily made it harder to breathe. Somehow. Even if he didn't technically need to.

"What brings you to our humble ship, sir?" Kryten asked. "Surely you aren't just stopping in for a crumpet and a cup of tea. Oh- not that you're not welcome to- I just mean-"

"Relax, old bean, you're right on the money," Rimmer reassured him, reluctantly pulling out of Lister's bear hug. "I picked up a distress call coming from inside this tin of peas, and I wanted to make sure everything was all cheddar around here."

"More like Velveeta until you showed up, bud." Alright, the weirdest part was always how the Cat treated him. Git. The second he revealed himself as an Arnold, that good nature would evaporate.

"D'you mean the weird plant things?"

"The what?" He turned back to Lister, who just shrugged.

"Well, they showed up last week. Warped into existence, pretty much, an' now they're just sort of lying round the cargo bay."

"Show me," Rimmer said, and as an afterthought he clapped Kryten and the Cat on their shoulders. "I'll catch up with you boys later. Have to get the official Ace business over with first."

---

"So." Lister led Rimmer down the corridor to the hold. Somehow, this place had gotten even more confusingly complex, if that were possible. Eat your heart out, Doctor Who, Rimmer thought smugly, paying absolutely no attention to what Lister was saying.

"-long shot, but if you know what happened to my Rimmer, I mean…"

"What? Why would you care what happened to Rimmer?"

"I just got done explainin' that!"

"I- well, look, sport, I'm just a bit deaf in both ears. From, er, adventuring, you know."

"Okay," Lister said, a bit louder, "I wanted to know if you knew what happened to him."

"Oh, I don't know. Probably got torn apart by wild beasts, or shot to death. Heart attack on the toilet. Really, anything can kill you in our line of work." How the smeg was he supposed to know? The only other Ace besides the original he'd had any prolonged contact with was the bastard who'd spewed sparks all over the bunkroom and forced him into this mess.

"Yeah." Lister looked a bit sad. "I shouldn't have sent him away, y'know? I mean, he couldn't even pass his CPR certification. Had a panic attack and keeled over on top of the dummy during compression practice. I should've- I don't know, stopped him. Gone with him."

"You probably wouldn't have lasted a day in that rust bucket," Rimmer grimaced. "Barely seats one, and there's no privacy. The old lady's seen some unspeakable things."

"Still. I keep thinkin' about him all alone up there- and, y'know, with you here, I guess it really is over, isn't it? He's not coming back."

"Chin up, squire," he tried, giving Lister an annoyingly chummy clap on the shoulder. "It's probably better around here without him, trust me. Every Arnold I've met-"

"Just have a look at the plants," Lister snapped, shaking Rimmer's hand away. Ah. Well, it wasn't the first time he'd pissed a Lister off. But it was hard to sympathize with the bastard, wasn't it, when his own Lister had done the same damned thing. Sent him off into the dark nothingness of space, under some stupid pretense of legacy or honor or some such rubbish.

He'd stewed on it obsessively for the past year or so, and in the end, it had become such a point of spite that he refused to hang up the wig until he managed to find his way back and put his Lister in a chokehold. Or- at the very least, yell at him for a few minutes straight. At least this Lister had some level of remorse. His own had probably only just finished celebrating his demise.

But, the plants.

Just as Wildfire had supposed, there was a miniature Starbug sitting atop one of the pallets of vindaloo in the cargo hold. The main difference being this one was a sort of smooth rubbery material rather than metal, and the green was alive and pulsating rather than painted on. It was maybe the size of a large dog, and it glowed weakly with yellow light.

"It's like some sort of Starbug melon," Rimmer said, tapping it gently. At his touch, the thing shivered, opening some sort of… hatch? leaf? and revealing the contents of the ship.

Inside were four small potted plants.

"Wait a tick," Rimmer frowned. "Hang on just a second."

"Yeah," Lister nodded. "They're us. S'weird, right?"

"I wonder who the one with all the thorns is supposed to be," Rimmer sighed, then quickly plastered his smile back on. Smegging ship. He was completely out-of-sorts today, thanks to her.

More pressingly, though… the four plants didn't look very happy. Or- well- one, which Rimmer assumed was supposed to be Kryten, was made out of plastic, and was doing just fine. The other three were dull and drooping, with wilted brown leaves. Rimmer stuck a finger into the soil. Bone dry.

"Well, skipper, I'd say these sad little tomatoes are in dire need of a stiff drink." Sad tomatoes? What was even coming out of his mouth? Lister didn't blink, though, reaching over and grabbing a can of lager from in between a few crates.

"Alright, but it's one of me last ones," he mumbled, cracking it open with a hiss.

"What? You can't give plants beer," Rimmer protested. "Water! They need water, you-" He stopped himself. "-you silly old dog, you!"

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so." Lister grinned sheepishly, taking a sip. "Promise I'm not usually this slime-brained, Ace, it's just- it really is good to see ya."

"You've said." Rimmer tried his best to match that affectionate smile, but inwardly he recoiled. Lister loved Ace so smegging much, it was giving him chest pains. When was the last time anyone had looked at him like this? Never. 

And it would never happen now, either, what with this sorry excuse for a secret identity. From now on, he could only be seen as Ace. Only liked as Ace. Only known on a vague surface level. There was only one single person in the entire universe- universes- who actually knew a damn thing about Arnold J. Rimmer, and he'd sent him away the first chance he got.

"You okay, man?" Lister touched his shoulder, gently, and Rimmer felt like he'd been punched.

"Fine." He gestured at the miniature Starbug. "I'm just- I'm a plant lover. Pains me to see the little chaps suffer."

"Right, yeah, I'll get them some water. You staying long?"

"No, not long," Rimmer said. "I've got places to be. People to rescue. Adventures. You know."

"Well- stay for dinner?"

"I…" It was a bad idea, and he didn't actually need to eat. But… homesickness was a powerful thing. "You bet, champ. Like I'd miss a chance to dine with the salt of the…" He gestured around them, lost. "...Starbug."

And either that was actually funny or Lister really wanted to get into Ace's pants, because he let out a very genuine-sounding laugh. 

The half-wit.

---

"Dear lord."

"That bad?" Wildfire asked.

"Horrible. They all love me."

"Some people might be grateful for that. Some people would find themselves on a non-exploding ship with all their friends surrounding them, and not find a thing to complain about."

"They don't even know who I am. I mean, it's all just this character, isn't it, this- this horrible cocky little guy they worship, and they don't even notice any of his flaws, because he's got the stupid hair and the sexy accent."

"No, I think the flaws are plenty noticeable."

"I'm just so sick of it," Rimmer continued. "Thank god I've got this place to hide out in, be myself for a minute before I get thrown back to the wolves."

"Poor you."

"Exactly. Poor me." He curled up in the pilot's seat, drawing his knees to his chest. It was sort of uncomfortable, but he'd learned to manage.

"Well, this might cheer you up. Do you remember how I said there was something funny about this dimension?"

"The plants you sent me here to rescue, yes." Rimmer rolled his eyes. "I swear one of them bloomed at me. That's the plant equivalent of pitching a tent in ones trousers, you know. It's disgusting. Worse, I'm fairly sure it was my counterpart."

"As much as I'd love to unpack that, Arnold, you should really listen to what I'm about to tell you."

"Fine, fine, spit it out already."

"Well, your journey's over. This is the destination."

"What?"

"Home. This is it. Your old dimension." Wildfire generated a half-hearted trumpet sound. "Congrats. Now you can finally pass on the torch, and get out of my cockpit for good."

"That can't be right."

"Well, it is. The original Ace created a list of all the dimensions he hopped between in his log. This one shows readings consistent with 'Dimension Two.'"

"Dimension Two? Is that really the naming scheme we settled upon?"

"It worked better when there were only a few dozen," Wildfire admitted.

"Well, your readings must be wrong. For one, my crew would recognize me immediately. They would know. And secondly, Lister sent me away. Funeral and everything. I'm practically dead to him. Why would he be pestering Ace with all these questions about me?"

"Beats me," Wildfire said. "But this is the last stop. I'm not leaving this place with you, so you'd better make your peace."

"Not leaving-? What do you mean? I'm in command of this craft, aren't I?"

"No, Ace is. And he died. I'm free range, now."

"So, what? You're just going to fly solo across the galaxy? Who's going to help you refuel? Who's going to fix you up? Who's going to clear your cache when you start getting laggy?"

"Suppose I'll have to figure that out." Wildfire paused. "That cat isn't bad-looking."

"Him?"

"Oh, look. It's almost six. You won't want to miss dinner."

Rimmer clambered out of the cockpit, dazed. Somehow, he'd just gotten dumped by a spaceship.

Typical.

---

"It seems I'll be staying longer than expected," Rimmer announced over their tins of microwaved rations. Normally, he might have feigned stomach pains, but he actually sort of missed the mediocre mashed potato. "Wildfire's in need of some… maintenance."

"Anything I can help with, sir?"

"No, no, no, Kryten, matey. I'll just need to do a few minor calibrations and be off in a jiff. Better safe than sorry. Multiverse's a cold place, I tell you." 

He had no idea why he was still spewing Ace-phorisms, or pretending this was still any ordinary visit. Though, if these were his original crewmates, and he'd just spent the past day or so pretending to be Ace, pretending- to Lister, even! that Rimmer was dead twice-over… well, they'd hate him. Even if he didn't enjoy the Ace persona, or the existential dread and the identity crisis that came along with it, he did very much like being liked.

Case in point. The Cat sidled into the room, wearing his own fuchsia version of the ridiculous Ace jumpsuit. Rimmer quickly drowned his disgust in a heaping bite of mashed potato so he wouldn't have to say anything. He clapped loudly as the Cat twirled around like a turbine powered by pure idiocy.

"I knew you'd like it, pal! Look at us- the two most eligible bachelors on the ship!" The Cat slung an arm around Rimmer's shoulders, glancing at Lister. "Er… no offense. I mean, maybe space grunge'll come back in season. But probably not."

"Bah, I'm ahead of me time," Lister grinned, propping his feet up on the table mere inches from Rimmer's dinner. Well. Good thing eating was optional for a hologram. "Couple years, all the kids'll be rocking curry stains and socks with holes in 'em. 'Sides, Ace thinks I look good, eh?"

"I… yeah. Like a regular old Han Solo." It took every ounce of Rimmer's discipline to wring the sarcasm out of that statement. "Ah, but don't worry, Cat. You're still my favorite."

"Wowwwww! You hear that? I'm his favorite! Take that, suckers!" The Cat danced out of the room, yowling with a renewed zeal. "I'm Ace's favorite! I'm Ace's favorite!"

"Is… is that true, sir?"

"No, Kryten, of course not. Just trying to make the poor lad's day. Got to be hard, having the IQ of ten senior catering officers."

"Ten times zero's still zero, last time I checked," Lister laughed. "C'mon, don't be hard on the Cat. He idolizes you, y'know."

"A bollocking like that, old boy, and I might make Kryten my favorite," Rimmer smiled.

"Oh? I'm heartbroken." Lister mimed being shot in the chest. "Guess I'll have to hope the next Ace who comes along has a soft spot for me."

"Excuse me, sirs, but I need to clean up these dishes," Kryten scowled, coming between to break the absolutely brimming-over-with-affection gaze Lister had been giving Rimmer. It was good, too, because Rimmer felt like something was about to burst, either in his groin or his tear ducts.

"Right. I'll help," he said quickly, because he knew Lister wouldn't touch a dirty dish even if it meant spending time with his precious Ace.

"But- you're a guest!" Kryten protested.

"It's the least I can do, after cleaning you out of all those potatoes. Worry not, old bagel, we'll have them done in a jiff with two sets of wings flapping."

"Yeah, and I'll get a bed set up for him," Lister added. "Probably should clear all the crumbs off Rimmer's old bunk anyway."

"The what?"

---

No point in denying it. Even though he'd been terrible at being Ace, no one aboard had been able to tell the difference.

What were his options, now? Stay, pretend to be Ace forever? Dismantle Wildfire and hope he could find her personality unit quickly enough to escape?

And yet… he'd been touched, deeply touched, somehow, by Lister's warmth. Er- it was nice that the others admired him as well, but something about the way Lister looked at him broke his heart into a million tiny little pieces and then ran those pieces through an industrial shredder. He'd been onto something with that theory of his, hadn't he? Lister and Ace had definitely done the business at some point, the perverts. Or, at least, Lister really, really wanted to. That was the sort of stare he'd reserved for Kochanski. Or Marilyn Monroe. Or an extremely unlucky sock.

He was making himself sick with anger, imagining it- Lister and smegging Ace, liking each other, snogging each other, all right under his nose. All along! He was a fool, a total idiot, letting that sort of disgusting thing happen on his watch. Lister would pay-

"Hey, man." Lister smiled up at him, a sunbeam, as he entered the bunkroom.

"H- Hey."

"So, this is your bed. I mean, it's Rimmer's bed, but you can borrow it for a few. Since he's… yeah."

"Great! Well, I'm bushed. Let's hit the sack, shall we, skipper?"

"Actually, I was gonna watch a bit of TV first. Helps me sleep."

"Oh. Alright, then, carry on."

While Lister took his sweet time rifling through his meager tape collection, Rimmer undressed down to his white undershirt and hurried under the covers. Yes, his clothes were hardlight, but if he didn't keep up the act- well- he didn't really have much of a plan besides "pretend to be Ace as long as you can," but it was better than "let the fact you're Arnold slip and have everyone hate you forever and ever," so… off the clothes came, and he shoved them under the blankets before they disappeared.

Funny. His stuff was still here, scattered around the bunkroom like he'd never left. Stacks of books he'd never quite gotten the chance to read before he left, statuettes he'd repainted to look like famous world leaders, all the little bits and bobs he'd collected and organized from most to least pleasing tactile feel. It was still here, and seemingly well-looked after, too.

Neither his fully-articulated, detachable-joint Horatio Nelson action figure, nor the lovingly-rendered diorama of Elon Musk surveying his ill-fated Martian colony had gathered any dust whatsoever. By now, he'd have thought the opal quarry and its many miniature gig-miners would have doubled as an ashtray.

Well, Kryten had probably gotten bored, and Lister certainly couldn't be bothered to pack up any of his things. There were his answers.

"What's this?" Rimmer squinted at the screen in some attempt to distract himself from his ruminations.

"Hm? Ah, Androids." Lister rubbed his neck.

"No way."

"Well- I dunno, it's been so boring and lonely, I've been picking up Kryten's hobbies just to have something to talk about."

"Lonely? You're surrounded by friends."

"Guess it's not the same as being out there all on your own like you, is it? But-" Lister bit his lip, shifting in his bed. "It's just… it isn't quite the same as it was before."

"Oh?"

"I…" He shook his head. "Nevermind. Probably just coming down with one of those psy-viruses or somethin', you know, one that makes you all depressed for no reason."

"Well-" Rimmer held back a sigh, getting back up despite his mental exhaustion. Smegging problems. Always fixing everyone's smegging problems. "What kind of Ace would I be if I didn't try to cure you?"

"Dunno if you can," Lister said, sitting up to make room for Rimmer in his bunk. "Might be a goner."

"All the more reason for me to try, eh? C'mon, Davey-boy, this old space dog'll put you right in no time." He put his arm around Lister's shoulders, gingerly. This was a comforting thing to do. This was what people did to comfort each other. Surely Lister couldn't have anything to whine about now.

Wrong.

Lister leaned into the touch, resting against Rimmer's shoulder, and gently put his hand on his knee.

"Y'know, Ace, I… I think I feel a real episode comin' on. Maybe you'd better up the dosage."

"Oh?"

The hand on Rimmer's knee slid up his inner thigh, spreading a tingling sensation through his lower extremity.

Was he really going to do this?

Ace would do this.

And right now, he was Ace.

Rimmer took a deep, shuddering breath, and grabbed Lister's hand before it could cause any further catastrophe, bringing it to his lips. He prayed Lister wouldn't pick up on the tremor in his own fingers as he kissed each knuckle of Lister's.

No. Nothing to worry about, nothing at all. Lister's dark eyes were fixed on him completely, the grim color of a banana that had been molding on the counter for a week and a half; and yet somehow in this moment they were so deep and soft that Rimmer could have drowned in them.

"Somehow," Lister rasped, "somehow I thought you'd totally reject me right then and there."

"Of course not," Ace replied, reaching up to tweak Lister's chin. "Come on, Dave. You're dynamite."

And then, somehow, Lister had ended up in Ace's lap, warm, heavy, and his arms snaked around Ace's neck. Someone let out a sigh of contentment. Rimmer, despite himself, let his hands drift up under the back of Lister's shirt, even though he had a dim idea of what the bacteria count was under there. It was just difficult not to crave the closeness. His skin was warm, and strangely soft.

"Beautiful," he heard himself- he heard Ace saying, a wave of something swelling in his chest. "It should be illegal for a pretty thing like you to be lonely in a place like this."

"Good luck getting that one past Parliament," Lister joked, and there was something… aha! He was nervous, the goit. Trembling like a baby deer in a snowdrift. Nervous to be with Ace, of all people. Well, if anything could be said of Lister, you certainly couldn't claim he had good taste.

Taking advantage of the upper hand, Ace leaned forward, kissing Lister on the lips. This was the sort of moment where one might expect a Captain Kirk-style kiss, a full dental cleaning type of kiss, but Rimmer just simply couldn't endure that sort of thing.

So he- Ace, that is- went the more conservative, classic route, pressing their lips softly together and then pulling quickly apart. He stroked the sides of Lister's face, relishing in the way his eyes slowly slid open, bathing in the heat that had risen to his cheeks.

"Wow," Lister breathed. "Rimmer- or- ah, smeg, I- would it be weird if I call you Rimmer?" Weird? Weird? It was downright absurd! Nobody had called him that in a whole year, but…

"No," Rimmer lied. "Actually, in my travels, I've been to universes where they only use last names."

"What? How do they manage family reunions, then? You yell out 'Johnson' and twelve heads turn?"

"Afraid I didn't exactly have time to attend any celebrations," he grimaced. "Had to fight some… space guys."

"Yeah, yeah, the space guys." Lister grinned. "Hate it when they show up."

"Oh, like you remember every single person you've ever fought."

"You're right. S'only life and death."

Rimmer kissed him again, because he didn't like the direction this was going. The desire to stop and argue with Lister nearly outweighed the desire to- to- well, to continue being Ace.

This time, Lister slipped his tongue between Rimmer's lips, completely unexpectedly, and there was no stopping the violent moan that ripped its way past his vocal chords. In a sense, Lister had entered him, now, feverish and wet, pushing his tongue against Rimmer's, daring him to follow suit. Damn you, damn you, damn you, Lister.

"Rimmer," Lister murmured as soon as they broke for air. His mouth shone with spit, and if literally every nerve in Rimmer's simulated body hadn't been screaming for release, it might have been revolting. Instead, he wanted more. He wanted to paint Lister's entire body in his saliva, disgusting or no. He wanted to lick up the sides of Lister's neck- and, oh, god, the skin was absolutely sweltering there, soft, his mouth right against the frantic pulse that thumped in Lister's throat. 

"Rimmer-" And Lister was calling his name, his, even if he was still Ace and he was still wearing the stupid wig and he was still just acting however the hell Ace would act. But he could pretend Lister liked him, loved him, wanted him. He could pretend Lister was his, at least for a little bit. If that was even something he wanted to pretend.

"Ace! Stop! Hang on a second."

"What?" No. No. He'd done something wrong. Gone and bungled it all up.

"I… look, I don't think I can do this."

"Well, why not?"

"It's not really fair to you. I'm just- I mean, I'm thinking of me own Rimmer while we're messing around, and you deserve better than that."

"You what?"

"Yeah. I'm really sorry."

"No, you- you were thinking of Rimmer during all this?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry I-"

"So, while you were groping my leg, and sticking your tongue in my mouth, and looking at me with a- a lovey-dovey sort of gaze, that was all meant for Rimmer? Arnold J. Rimmer? That sniveling, cowardly, pathetic worm of a man you sent off blindly into the galaxy?"

"Smeg, I said I was sorry!"

"But he's… I thought you hated him. I thought you wanted nothing more than to be rid of him."

"I dunno. I think… I think I really did need him to stay sane. Took for granted everything we went through, how well he knew me, how much fun we had together. I mean- I could tell him about me problems, and he'd actually listen. Might have some nasty little opinion at the end of it, but at least he heard more than every other word, and he had a functioning attention span chip or circuit or whatever. He cared, sort of."

"Oh." Rimmer immediately felt the familiar weight of dread sinking into the pit of his stomach. "Oh, no."

"Sorry," Lister apologized yet again, climbing out of Rimmer's lap. "I thought- I thought he'd come back to me one day, y'know, and I could maybe tell him how I felt. Or even just half of it. Or just see him one more time. I shouldn't have put you in the middle of it, Ace."

"Lister?"

"Yeah?"

"What if…" He stumbled over the words. "What if I told you… what if I told you your Rimmer hadn't died of a heart attack on the toilet?"

"You don't mean-"

"No, no, wait- this is purely hypothetical, alright- what if I told you that, the utter coward he is, perhaps your Rimmer might not have… thought he was welcome back aboard Starbug as himself, and maybe, in this completely hypothetical scenario, the stupid terrible computer hadn't immediately told him which dimension he was in…"

"Rimmer, you have to be joking!" Lister put his head in his hands. "I smegging knew it! I knew you reminded me too much of him, you and your weaselly little-"

"Need I remind you, Listy, you seemed very happy to be exploring my 'weaselly little' body not five minutes ago."

"Oh, I'm happy to do something to your body, alright," he said, standing up and starting to pace furiously around the bunkroom before finally throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Well? Don't you have anything to say to me?"

"Yes, actually." Rimmer took off his horrible wig, disdainfully tossing it onto the floor where it belonged. "I'd like an apology."

"An apology."

"Well, for shooting me out into space with absolutely no preparation! Sure, I was riding the high of having defeated some escaped AR abomination, but that didn't exactly mean much when my very next task was to save the Loch Ness Monsters from being hunted to extinction in the sixth century. Which, by the way, I failed at. Miserably."

"Nessie's real? Extinct? She's dead?" Judging by the way he was pulling at his scalp, Lister was going through all seven stages of grief in the span of a minute. 

"Anyways, Lister, I think we can argue you owe me a nice long tearful apology for putting me in the middle of this mess. You've said yourself you shouldn't have done it."

"Y'know, I've got half a mind to send you straight back." Lister shook his head. "I did it for the right reasons, Rimmer, I wanted to see you grow. Belong to something more than just yourself. You were never gonna get that hanging 'round here."

"I was happy here!"

"You were miserable! You hated everyone aboard, including yourself, and you spent every day doing the same boring thing, just like the rest of us."

"Really. Because the way I saw it, I was doing just fine." Rimmer crossed his arms. "Maybe my life was boring, but on the whole it was predictable. Maybe I was surrounded by morons, but at least they cared enough about me to come and rescue me when things went pear-shaped. It was good. I had a good life. I liked being here."

A pause. I liked being here with you.

"I didn't know you felt that way," Lister said. 

"I didn't know it either, until I suddenly had to deal with several universes' worth of crushing responsibility."

"Alright, Rimmer, tell you what. You apologize first, and then I'll go. Okay?"

"Apologize for what?"

"You know what."

"Come on, Lister, it isn't my fault you decided to sleep with Ace. Actually, if you're really that smitten with me, I'd venture to say it's… cheating-adjacent behavior."

"Cheat- we aren't even together, Rimmer! In fact, I'm pretty much turned all the way off by this point. The lying, the pigheadedness, the absolute smegheadery-"

"All the way off?" Rimmer raised one eyebrow.

"No," Lister admitted, "but I'm only human. Not like you, you cold-hearted Nessie-killer."

"Oh, bold words from the man who couldn't keep a mechanical goldfish alive. They had spears in the sixth century, you know. Big, sharp spears."

"Just say you're sorry, Rimmer, so I can at least pretend you mean it."

"Fine. I'm sorry for not telling you my true identity right away."

"And?"

"And I- I'm sorry for trying not to blow my cover as Ace and accidentally kissing you in the process. Multiple times."

"Accidentally? It sure didn't feel like an accident."

"It's your turn, Lister."

"It definitely felt on purpose. You definitely licked up my neck on purpose. You kissed my fingers on purpose."

"I- apology, Lister, now, please."

"You pulled me into your lap on purpose. Put your tongue in my mouth on purpose. Actually, I bet if I hadn't cut out early, you would've shagged me absolutely senseless, wouldn't you have? On purpose."

"Lister-"

Lister was a lot closer now than he had been ten seconds before, and it was so very difficult to breathe or think or anything else as he sat back down, squished himself up against Rimmer's side.

"No, I wouldn't have," Rimmer squeaked. "I don't play for that team. I'm on the straight and narrow."

"Kind of hard to believe, when you went ahead and sprinted halfway to the endzone."

"If that's supposed to be some footballer joke, I don't get it," Rimmer grumbled. "Ace is the flaming homosexual. I'm strictly into the ladies."

"Inflatable Ingrid ain't a lady," Lister chuckled, wrapping an arm around Rimmer's waist. And under any normal circumstance Rimmer would have immediately pushed him off, except… alright, he was lonely and the weight and warmth of Lister against him was intoxicating. He leaned in, despite himself. "So, hold on- you mean to tell me you're straight, and you've been pretending to be gay as Ace?"

"It's called disappearing into the role, Listy. Getting into character."

"Well- why not just pretend to be a straight version of Ace in the first place?"

"Oh." Damn it. "Well, it didn't exactly come up that often."

"You didn't have women constantly fawning over you?"

"Usually the women didn't make it. Or the men. Or anyone. Usually no one made it. So as you can imagine, that rather puts a damper on things."

"You really had that much trouble with being Ace?"

"Maybe I'm exaggerating a little. But…" Rimmer shook his head. "I don't know. I tried, and tried, and tried, and I still did a horrible job. Every time."

"I should've come with you." Lister fumbled for Rimmer's hand, his thumb running over Rimmer's knuckles. "I don't know. I should've thought it through."

"It's not entirely your fault. I could've said no."

"I really, really missed you, Rimmer."

"I missed you too." Rimmer hesitated. "If I were Ace, maybe this is the part where we would-"

"You're not Ace. You're Rimmer."

"Right." He wilted a bit.

"And Rimmer's a total loser, an underhanded little sneak, a complete an' utter bastard with no scruples…" Lister sighed, getting up on his knees and pushing Rimmer all the way down against the thin mattress, all the way back against the pillow. "But unlucky for me, I love him anyway, don't I?"

"You what," Rimmer barely had time to say before Lister's lips were on his. Oh, this wasn't fair. He'd wanted at least a few more minutes of hemming and hawing before he committed to participating in any homosexual activity. He hadn't even resisted a little when Lister climbed on top of him.

Lister's fingers brushed through his curly hair, and his scalp tingled. His hips were pressed firm against Rimmer's, pinning him down to the bed as if to say you're not going anywhere, bucko. Or whatever the Lister equivalent of that would be. Stay there, smeghead.

Rimmer kissed back as best he could, accidentally letting out a high-pitched whimper as Lister's teeth scraped his bottom lip on the way out.

"So?" Lister's voice was husky, soft. "Are we doing this, for real?"

"As in… as in, you're going to make love to me?"

"Make love? I mean, I was just thinking sex, but yeah, I can make love to you."

"What's the difference?" Rimmer asked, annoyed.

"Difference is, if I make love to you, it's gonna be real mushy and gross. I'm going to tell you how much I missed you, and how handsome you are, and I'm gonna do it all torturously slow. Just to make sure the point sticks in your thick head." Lister tapped Rimmer's forehead, making a face.

"Oh." He hesitated. "And does that entail… what does that entail exactly? The thing you'll be doing torturously slow? Will you be… is that a 'you inside me' situation?"

"Alright, Rimmer," Lister laughed. "Is that what you want? A 'me inside you' situation?"

"I don't know what I want! I was hoping you'd tell me, seeing as you're the expert on- on- I don't know, on drooling over men."

"Think you drooled on me first." He touched his neck, grinning. "Okay, then. I'll make sweet, sweet love to you, Rimmer, if you insist."

"Ugh."

"Hey." Lister tilted Rimmer's chin upwards. "Eyes on me, gorgeous."

He was being serious all of a sudden, which Rimmer hadn't expected. It was all little jokes and jabs with him, usually, but now he was gazing deeply into Rimmer's eyes, stroking his hair again, like something out of those horrid romance movies he loved so much. Rimmer blinked away, sure his face was bright red.

"I sort of like that you're shy about this stuff. I mean, you're kind of a sensitive guy, deep down, aren't you?"

"I'm not," Rimmer protested.

"No, c'mon, it's cute. How did you even manage all that Ace stuff? I mean, I was fully prepared for you to sweep me off my feet an' have your way with me."

"It's called staying in character," he scoffed. "I mean, if nothing else, I've learned the basics of acting on this horrible little odyssey."

"So if I hadn't told you to stop, would you have acted all the way to the finish line?"

"I was planning on chickening out if you wanted anything more serious than hand stuff."

"Hand stuff," Lister said, and Rimmer could practically feel him getting harder through those raggedy old pajamas. "You'd have pulled me off? Really?"

"Alright, enough. You're making fun of me." He reached out, running his hands down Lister's chest. "I'm not a total virgin, you know."

"Guess you aren't." Lister sat up, and oh dear lord this angle really pressed their erections together, and pulled his shirt up over his head. "You want me to undress you?"

"I could just wish my clothes off if I wanted to."

"Yeah, so what do you want?"

"I… want you to take them off for me," Rimmer admitted.

"Good man," Lister smiled. "Progress."

He untucked Rimmer's shirt, pushing the hem of it upwards. But, instead of removing it right away, Lister's hands slipped underneath the thin white fabric, fingers splaying over Rimmer's stomach.

"All those sit-ups you used to do," he murmured.

"And here I thought you'd stare at me because I looked silly doing them."

"Nah, you did. Ridiculous. But it paid off." The shirt came up another few inches, and Rimmer felt self-conscious as Lister scooted down to kiss the newly exposed skin around his navel, glancing up at him with a smug look like the cat who'd gotten the cream. 

Smeg, he really was pathetic, wasn't he. Lister had thoroughly tamed him in a matter of minutes. There was supposed to be more protesting, or some sort of excuse that made this all just a little less gay, some distance. 

But, no- Lister had just spread his legs apart immediately like the hussy he was, and worse, Rimmer couldn't muster up the required shame or guilt about it. He liked this. He liked Lister's stubborn insistence on loving him even if he was a horrible planet-killing moron. He liked how full and warm and thrumming with energy this made him feel, and how different it was from what he'd had with Nirvanah. Lister wasn't womanly in the least, but he was soft and full and gentle in a different way. Somehow, he knew exactly what was going on in Rimmer's head, so there was no need to plaster on his usual bravado. He could be himself, with all the messiness that entailed.

Really, the only drawback was that Lister certainly wasn't ever going to call him Admiral in bed, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

His shirt was rolled under his armpits by now, and Lister squeezed both of his nipples between thumb and finger, rolling them around.

"That-" Somehow that, of all things, was a direct line to his groin, a wave of hot pleasure spilling out of him, and his chest heaved as he tried his best to hold it all in. "Lister- mn, Lister, don't."

"What's wrong?" He immediately stopped.

"Nothing's wrong, just- you can't expect me to last very long if you keep doing that."

"Really?" There was that face again, half delight and half mischief. "Maybe I'd better speed things up, if you're so on edge."

"Probably for the best." Rimmer frowned, grabbing Lister's shoulder before he could sit back up. "And another thing- I thought you were going to tell me how handsome and brilliant I was? I haven't heard a peep."

"Yeah, 'cause my mouth's been a little busy with other stuff."

"No excuses. Go on, tell me."

"Bossy. You know I'm still supposed to be mad at you? You're pushing your luck." Lister leaned over and rummaged around on the floor for something, popping back up with a smile and a bottle of- ah.

"That's got to be expired by now. By three million years."

"It's water-based, though, isn't it? Water doesn't go bad."

"Look, it's fine for me- I'm dead. But if you get some sort of mutant gangrenous penile infection, I'm not going to rescue you." He frowned. "Well, not until I've gotten a few told-you-sos in first."

"Aw, you do care." Lister pulled down his pajama bottoms- why was it no surprise he hadn't been wearing underwear- and as his cock sprung out of them Rimmer was confronted with the very real idea that he was about to have sex with Lister. 

At least he looked clean enough- well- more than that, he looked beautiful, like some kind of Greek god of debauchery, ready to ravage whatever sense of masculine pride Rimmer had left in him. He'd known what was in those pants, but it was different seeing it from his side. It protruded ridiculously from a mess of curly hair, looking like a floppy, angry dark sausage. Okay. Alright. That thing was about to be inside him. It was a little difficult to wrap his head around.

Lister winced as he squirted a puddle of undoubtedly ice-cold lubricant onto the thing.

"That's why you're supposed to warm it up first."

"Alright, Mr. Hand Stuff, warm me up then."

"Fine." Rimmer sat up, repositioning himself so that Lister was practically in his lap again. He hesitantly took hold of Lister's shaft, stroking up the length of it with his thumb. "How's this?"

"Good," Lister breathed. "You're good with your hands, Rimmer. Thought you would be."

"I'm just trying to make sure you're coated properly before you try to shove that monster into any of my holes." He pulled the foreskin back and toyed with the very tip, moving his finger in a slow circle- did Lister like this, too? and was rewarded with a low moan, Lister's face scrunching up as he grabbed Rimmer's shoulders for balance.

Oh, this was entirely better than it had any right to be. His hand was moving on its own at this point, greedy for more reactions as it sprung up and down, squeezing Lister's cock in a chokehold for a few strokes, easing up briefly only to return to that delicious level of pressure that made Lister gasp.

"Rimmer- seriously, I'm close."

"What, already?" He couldn't give up an opportunity to bother Lister. "Either I'm good or you've got less endurance than me."

"You're the first person to touch me in years," Lister complained. "Doesn't help that you've got some kind of insane masturbation routine."

"Try being trapped in a tin can by yourself for a year and see where that gets you." Rimmer  took his hand away, pausing. "You enjoyed it?"

"Yes, man, I enjoyed it." Lister gave him a kiss, all smiles. "I'm having fun. I forgot how much fun you are, when you're not scolding me for stuff or being generally smeggy. I missed this."

"If I'd known being away for a year would make you lust after me like this, maybe I wouldn't have been so hesitant to leave."

"To be honest, I was thinking about it pretty soon after you got a body. I mean- you're dead, but you're at least human, right? And you're good-looking, even when you have that stupid smirk all over your face like you're better than everyone."

"Mhmm. I bet that made you want to knock me down a peg or two, didn't it?"

"There it is. That one."

"Oh, yeah, Listy? This one?"

"Alright, you're asking for it." Lister pressed forward so that he was solidly on top again, grabbing Rimmer's wrists and pinning them above his head. "Leave those there, or else."

"Or else what?"

"Just keep them there." Rimmer's pants were gone almost faster than he could have vanished them, and he felt a little sick, anxious, as Lister inspected what was underneath.

"Look, I know it's not much-"

"Not much? Come on, Rimmer, you're gorgeous. You're like that Da Vinci sketch of the perfect bloke."

"The one with six arms and legs?"

"Yeah, you're right. Might be more fun if you had six arms, eh?" Lister snorted, spreading Rimmer's legs. God, those hands on his thighs- Rimmer was having trouble breathing. This was happening. Him and Lister. It felt like a dream.

He hadn't heard the crack of the bottle opening again, lost in disbelief, so he yelped when Lister's cold, wet finger pressed against his hole.

"I told you it needed to be warmed up, you git!"

"With what? I mean, do I stick the bottle in the microwave?"

"Rub it between your hands or something. Whatever- just- just keep going, before I lose my nerve."

"Alright, but… if it's uncomfortable, tell me. Don't clam up like you normally do."

It was an odd experience. Lister obviously knew a little bit about how this went- not surprising, he'd probably stick anything up there. And despite the cold, it felt altogether too good, being- being fingered, Lister watching him squirm, the anticipation of what was coming next.

And the actual sensation of being stretched, of Lister's fingers painting the inside of him- Rimmer'd done a little of this on his own, at awkward angles, but he'd never gotten this deep, never been able to give himself this level of attention.

He was at the point where it was becoming unbearable, trying to keep himself composed. His breathing was ragged. The pillow probably wasn't going to take much more of his clawing at it. He wanted so badly for Lister to bring him all the way over the edge. But he wanted it more with Lister properly inside him. He wanted so badly to-

"Oops."

"Lister! That's half the bottle you just dumped down my taint, I could feel it." Arousal, interrupted. Annoyance, here to stay.

"Well, at least it'll make things smoother, yeah?"

"You'll fall out of me at this rate."

"Wanna bet?" Lister grinned. "Are you ready?"

"I think this is as ready as I'm ever going to be."

"Hey." He leaned up, pressing a brief, shaky kiss against Rimmer's lips. "I'm nervous, too. But it's okay. Promise. I love you."

"You… love me," Rimmer muttered. There it was again. Lister loved him. It was the sort of thing you scrawled half-heartedly on a birthday card or the sort of thing printed on a cheap Valentine. It felt completely foreign. "Me."

"Yeah, you. I mean, look, this could be the worst sex of my life, and I'd still feel the way I do about you. I just- I want you around me, Rimmer, y'know?"

"Apparently in more ways than one."

"C'mon, I'm serious. I need you." Lister shifted forward, so that Rimmer couldn't look away from his big fat face. "Everything I've done the past year, I just can't enjoy it properly. Can't eat, can't sleep. It's like there's something missing."

"Your sanity, maybe," Rimmer argued, because the other option was terrifying. Lister loving him. He'd let everyone down as Ace, and only relished being Rimmer because there was no possible way Rimmer could let anyone down. Rimmer was the part of him that had already hit bottom. But, no, here was the sinking, heavy truth that threatened to squish him flat. Lister still liked him. Lister, he could disappoint.

"If I'm crazy, I'm crazy about you."

"Oh, oldest line in the book."

"Sure, but it made you smile, didn't it?"

"No," Rimmer snapped. "I'm just… happy." No, that was more embarrassing. "Look, just- are you going to have your way with me or not, Listy? I have things to do today."

"No you don't," Lister grinned, sitting up and running his hands back over Rimmer's chest, stomach, hips. "You're gonna stay right where you are for the next three weeks."

"And am I ever going to be pleasured during that time, or is it going to be one gigantic terrible love poetry recital?"

"Depends on if you're good," Lister said, shifting his hips, moving Rimmer's legs where he wanted them to go. He paused to look up at Rimmer for some final affirmative sign. This was it. Last chance to chicken out, Arnold.

"I can be good," he nodded, finally, and in Lister pushed.

It was uncomfortable. Sure, his body could handle pretty much anything at this point, but that didn't mean it wasn't an awkward, overstimulating mess as he had to first remember how to breathe and then remember that he didn't actually have to.

"You okay?" Lister stroked his thigh.

"Peachy. Please tell me that's the whole thing."

"Yeah. Pretty much."

"Pretty much?"

"Seventy percent."

"Seventy percent?!"

"Look, I'm not gonna cram it all in there first thing. Let's just go slow. Yeah?"

"Alright."

And then Lister pulled slowly out to slather on some more millenia-old lube, and that felt even worse- now, he felt empty.

"So this time, you just give me the go-ahead when you get comfortable, and then I'll try moving around. Ready?"

He nodded.

The second time felt better. The pleasurable stretching feeling was more noticeable now, and he could only imagine what Lister was experiencing. The man had been making do with towels and socks and jars of mayonnaise, and Rimmer was probably the closest he'd gotten to sexual congress in ages. And he was someone who actually enjoyed and craved sex, who'd had it more than twice in his life. If Rimmer was pent up, then surely Lister had it far worse, being crammed "seventy percent" up his simulated arsehole and then forced to wait.

Nevermind. Lister's idle hands had evidently gotten bored, one working its way slowly up and down his cock, slippery and warm, the other cupping his balls. His hips bobbed on their own accord, and- and that in turn moved Lister back and forth inside him, ever so slightly- oh, damn it, he was so close again and from almost nothing-

"Start going," Rimmer urged, finally moving his hands down from above his head to snatch Lister's away. "But you can't- you can't touch me, or I'll be done like that."

"Isn't that the goal?"

"Well, I'd rather this didn't end so soon," Rimmer admitted. "I want this to last."

"Don't think it will, but I'll try," Lister said. He pulled out, back, almost all the way, then slowly pushed forward until he was almost certainly probably possibly at least eighty percent in.

Again. The motions were choppy waves, and each new slow movement inward was more pleasurable than the last.

"Mmn," Rimmer strained, trying not to squeal or scream or call Lister's name.

"You alright?" God, Lister, pausing to check on him.

"Yes," he hissed. "Keep going, or I swear I'll kill you."

"That's not very nice, Rimmer. Thought you were gonna be good for me."

"I- yes, fine, okay."

"Promise me."

"I… I promise I'll be good. I'll be a good boy." What on Io was coming out of his mouth now? But Lister seemed to accept it, thrusting into him with a renewed sense of urgency.

"Yeah, Rimmer? You're gonna be all mine from now on, right?"

"All yours," he echoed, and there was that familiar crescendo tightening inside him again, his muscles starting to stiffen in anticipation. "God, Lister, I'm yours. Anything- Anything, Lister-"

There were probably more words coming out of his mouth, loud ones, but he couldn't be bothered to decipher what they were, because Lister had hit him at some odd angle that sent him into pure ecstasy.

For a split second, the tension eased and he was full and everything was so, so right in the world. Lister's cock was still moving in him, and the waves sent softer spasms of pleasure through him as he rode out the remainder of his orgasm.

Now that he could concentrate a little clearer, Lister was stunning- his body sparkling with sweat, a pleasant, rounded belly, the utter concentration on his face, even the way his locs swung about ridiculously around his shoulders.

His face screwed up, biting back a moan, and something hot shot up Rimmer's insides. Oh. Oh, no. Lister had just come inside him, and- and he'd really, really liked it. Tingles all over. Enough to maybe muster another half-erection, if he hadn't been too exhausted to try.

"Well?" Lister smiled. "Good?"

"Great." Rimmer grimaced as Lister pulled out, his hologrammatic sphincter thoroughly traumatized by the whole experience. "Well, probably better than Ace could have done, anyway."

"Glad he smegged off when he did. Otherwise I'd have missed out on the best sex I've had in three million years, right?" A soft kiss. "Love ya."

And, bathed in contented afterglow, Rimmer didn't even feel the need to point out it was the only sex he'd had in three million years.

After a quick, half-hearted attempt at cleaning up, they laid in bed, Lister resting on top of Rimmer's chest. He patted Lister's soft, fuzzy head, well on his way towards dreamland.

"I know I said it a hundred times today, but I missed you," Lister murmured.

"Which is why you forgave me so easily for all… that."

"I'll be mad at you tomorrow. Lemme enjoy tonight." He sighed. "I just… I miss Earth. I miss the Dwarf. I mean, it all just gets taken and taken and taken from me, and… you're the only thing that the universe gave me back."

"That's probably not a sign the universe likes you."

"Yeah, but at least it's something, right?"

"What happens next? I mean, were you serious about wanting to travel dimensions with me? We can't both fit in Wildfire, even if she wanted me back. Nevermind trying to get the Cat and Kryten in there. It'll be the world's saddest clown car."

"Listen, man, I know I said all that about not breaking the chain, but…"

"Oh, what's this? Lister the selfless, Lister the humanitarian, Lister the stoic, changing his ways for little old me? Corrupted your little code of ethics, have I?"

"Don't be like that. Look, it's not like there aren't other Aces out there, other chains. It's all probability, right?"

"Or, you want to keep me all to yourself now that you know what you've been missing."

"Or that." Lister snorted. "If I'd known your ego'd grow three times after we did this, maybe I'd have thought twice."

"You didn't even think once."

"Didn't have to. You're worth it."

"Oh." Straight in the heart. Dave Lister, taking him out with three words, again. "For what it's worth- look, I can't say I… that I love you, because I don't really know what that actually… means." He thought briefly about Nirvanah. Would he give up that much for Lister? Arguably, he already had done, but… "But I want to stay. I want to go back to how it was, just having to keep the four of us afloat. I want to- to wake up and see your face every morning." God, it was something out of a cheesy coffee ad. "Point is, I- you- point is, I'm not going. So there."

"Rimmer, that was almost romantic." Lister traced a heart on his stomach. It tickled a little.

"It isn't just about you," he backpedaled. "I also really, really hated being Ace. I'd rather impale myself on a tetanus-infected meathook than hear the words 'old boy' ever again. I mean, the fake machismo. All that tripe about being a man's man. I'm done with that."

"Good. I like this new soft you."

"Soft?" he complained. "Is this because I let you-"

"No. What I mean is- you're still mean and annoying and hateful, but you've totally lost your bite. You haven't even made fun of my hair or my clothes or my intelligence once this whole day."

"The night's still young." Rimmer glanced at the clock. "Oh, no it isn't. Did we really spend over an hour doing all that?"

"New record for you, I guess."

"A lot of firsts."

A comfortable silence settled over them, and Rimmer felt… content, actually, for the first time in a long time. Probably just the post-coital hormones, or simulation thereof, making the world all colorful and fuzzy around the edges like a bad mid-twentieth-century romance film. But maybe that was as good as love. At the very least, he wasn't homesick anymore.

---

"Right then, boys," Rimmer said, tossing a ratty auburn wig into the cockpit. "You're part of something bigger than yourselves, now. Continuing on the chain of good deeds and bravado and all that."

"You've made your point," Wildfire protested. "I'm sorry. You can come back with me if you really want."

"Come back? No! I've just passed on the torch! They can't make things worse than I already have." Rimmer hummed with glee. "Well, old boys, I'll stroke a flipper for you. Toodle-oo," he said, before slamming the hatch down tight.

The plants sat in stunned silence. Rimmer puffed a cloud of irate pheromones into the air, thorns bristling. What did this meatbag expect him to do? Take down the bad guys by spitting oxygen at them? 

Still, there was a strange solace in the fact that he still wasn't the most pathetic Rimmer to ever exist. At least he had a useful ecological niche, even if it was nigh irrelevant in the cold confines of space. At least he had designer genes, even if the seedmother on Io had cocked them up a bit.

The journey through dimensions was a harrowing one. Kryten's water supply tube had knocked loose, though thankfully he didn't need it. And the fluorescent light Wildfire fed them with tasted awful compared to the real thing. The Cat had decided to experiment with crossbreeding new shades of violet flowers from his garish blue and sickly pink limbs, despite there being no pollinators to even merit such an inane hobby.

Finally, finally they landed, on a planet that looked somewhat hospitable. Well. Half of it was burning, but luckily they'd landed on the other half, and a little fire meant the air would soon be full of good old carbon dioxide.

The hatch opened, and the face Rimmer's blurry visual receptors looked upon was root-rottingly familiar. A meatbag, tall and pale, with a mop of ash-streaked auburn hair, a scar over one eye, dressed in black leather.

"Just in time," Ace laughed. "I was worried I wouldn't be able to get off this planet, once I was done with it."

"Hang on," Wildfire buzzed, worried. "You aren't some sort of anti-Ace, spreading evil throughout the galaxy?"

"Course not," the evil Ace said. He picked up each plant gently and put them in a neat row on the floor, sliding into the pilot's seat. A scream came from the outside. "Alright, chaps, let's hurry up and get this cow abducted. Only thing between us and the stars now is a gallon of fuel and the Royal Space Force."

"Well, it's an adventure, at least," Wildfire grumbled, preparing for takeoff. "Brace yourselves for turbulence. I'm going to have to do some advanced maneuvers here."

"My favorite," Ace said, patting the dashboard. "So long, Earth. Rest in peace, Mars. Au revoir, Mimas. And good riddance, Io."

They shot into the stratosphere, and Rimmer-the-plant felt an odd sense of dread rattle through his chloroplasts. 

Well. Whatever. At least this fleshy thing might remember to water them.

[cherokeegal1975]

Amazon.com: Eden Symbiotic: 9781493766444: Smith, Meriah Renna: Books

Unexpected Cargo: Smith, Meriah: 9781537355238: Amazon.com: Books

Even though they aren't perfect, I believe in both novels. As in, I think they're good and worth reading even though they're not perfect. I know they need editing, I can't do anything about it until I can find a job with living wages that I can actually keep.

As far as the art journals...well they're not terrible, but I could do better now that I have a better idea of what they look like in person. I just keep them there because I worked on them. Might never make another art journal for sale ever again because these two never sell and I can see why. Such things would hold interest only to myself anyway. I dream of making another journal, even a photo album, but never for sale again. In my opinion, they both rate a "meh" but the books are worth remaking again with needed corrections just so I can have my works in print in pride of place on my bookshelf.

The point of this is that yes, I want to let you know that these books exist. But since I've been making a lot of noise about my audiobook for Unexpected Cargo, you might thing all I was into was mpreg. So not true! It's just something on the side and I did write a strait up sci-fi fantasy novel with none of that in it. It was my passion project years in the making. I've partly outgrown it, but I'm still fond of it.

I don't have an audio for Eden Symbiotic...well, not a full one anyway. Just for the first chapter. Never went farther than that.

Warts and all, I think both Eden Symbiotic and Unexpected Cargo are worth your money. In fact, if I sell enough copies, I could use my earnings to hire an editor.

I bet that once fixed up, both would make good movies or miniseries. Having seen a lot of movies, TV shows and read a lot of books, I can be confident that my judgement is correct. Even Unexpected Cargo, which I happen to know is a bit weird. I guess that's what happens when I let an online dumpster dive inspire me.

Did you also notice that I was openly saying that not all my books are worth your money? I'm my own worst critic. I let it drive me to strive for better quality works instead of letting it drag me down. I know how good I am...most of the time. Still, honest feedback from more objective people is always appreciated and welcome. It gives me a better perspective and I learn useful things from them.

As near as I can tell, I match Anne McCaffery...or come close to being as good as her works. If I pit myself against someone one like Diana Gabbledon in her Outlander series, she'd kick my ass.

[junipuzzle]

Friday, February 2, 2024

themeless by Ryan Judge

Time: 14:23

Cluing: ★★ Design: ★★★★ Fill: ★★★★

Lookups:

43D: Where Midori Ito lit the Olympic cauldron (6) my input was correct but this corner gave me trouble so i checked this first

48D: Holiday celebrated by reading the Megillah (5)

52D: Gore Vidal's "____ Breckinridge" (4)

Favorite Clues:

12D: Some Instagram statistics, fittingly? (8)

14D: Puppet show locale, for short (8)

44D: John or Paul (6) nice misdirect

first thing: gonna be trying a changeup of the ratings i give by switching "difficulty" to "cluing." IMO it's important that a puzzle be at the "appropriate" difficulty for the day of the week, but a star rating doesn't really quantify that well (e.g. how do i differentiate between a puzzle too easy vs too hard?) not to mention it's quite subjective to my level of experience. gonna see if i can provide a bit more interesting feedback based on the aspect of cluing, since i tend to write a lot about it anyway.

after yesterday's puzzle being a 10/10 on nearly all fronts, i knew today's would feel a letdown in comparison and tried not to let it get to me too much, but i struggled to get through the south and thought the clues could have been a lot better. the entries were mostly good, especially the two long crossing entries - SUNK COST FALLACY and BELLY OF THE BEAST are both excellent, but i wish the cluing had been a little bit more ingenuitive for them.

i thought there was a Lot of trivia-style clues in this one, and a lot of it concentrated in the 70s/80s, which leaves you kinda screwed if you don't know that era. combined with some rare words (ENMITY, papal BULL, n-TUPLES). i don't mind those things on their own, but without more interesting cluing across the puzzle it feels like i can't make progress if i don't know the specific thing the instructor is referring towards.

Answers to Noted Clues:

43D: the 1998 NAGANO olympics

48D: the jewish holiday PURIM

52D: the 1970 movie MYRA beckinridge

12D: META DATA great unintentional pun

14D: SESAME ST.

44D: BUNYAN and not a beatle!

[firawren]

"Transformation" A Beauty and the Beast fanfic

Chapter 2, “Cocoon,” rated G, now posted

Chapters: 2/17 now posted Fandom: Beauty and the Beast (Disney Animated Movies) Rating: Explicit

Romantic relationships: Belle/Beast, Gaston/Lumiere Platonic relationships: Gaston & Belle, Gaston & Beast

Key additional tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Monster Fucking, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Redemption, Family, Friendship, Love, Happy Ending, see full list of tags on AO3

Summary:

Belle said she loved him. Everything transformed to how it used to be.

Except the Beast.

Forced into a new deal with the Enchantress, Beast will remain in this form forever. Belle doesn’t mind; she’s happy with him no matter what he looks like. Beast tries to just be happy, too, and for a while, everything is wonderful. Beast doesn’t know how he got so lucky, and Belle finally feels at home. But when the trauma of his past resurfaces, the future they’re trying to build together comes tumbling down.

Gaston’s ideal future isn’t going to plan either. Instead of getting married to Belle, it looks like he’s becoming friends with her, while developing feelings for someone else he’d never expected. This wouldn’t be so bad, except that the closer he gets to both of them, the more he learns to question his values and feel guilty for his past. And when that past finally comes to light, he stands to lose everything he’s gained.

This is a story about how sometimes the things we want to transform can’t be changed, and sometimes the things we think are hopeless can transform through love.

Excerpt from chapter 2:

“I’m excited for you to see my gown. I think you’ll love it.”

“Oh? What’s it like?”

“I’m not telling, but it’s gorgeous, probably the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen—except for your library, of course.”

“Your library,” he corrected with a smile.

“Oh of course, my library,” she giggled.

“Only you could think a library is the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen.”

“Are you saying I’m odd to adore a library?” she teased.

“Not odd, just…one-of-a-kind. Unique.” She crooked her eyebrow with a skeptical smile. “What? Unique is good!”

“Well if admiring a library is a ‘unique’ choice, I don’t want to be normal anyway,” she declared. 

She looked back down at the pile of unplaced puzzle pieces, tucking back a strand of hair that had come loose and fell over her eye, then began pushing the pieces aside with her elegant fingers, searching for a particular one. “So what’s the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen?”

That was an easy question, but he couldn’t tell her the real answer. He pulled his eyes off her to force himself to look at the puzzle again. “I guess…a sunrise.”

“Why a sunrise and not a sunset?”

“Sunsets are beautiful too, but I don’t like watching the sky get dark. Nights are…hard for me,” he told her honestly. “The sunrise tells me that I made it through another night. It’s a new start.”

Continue reading chapter 2 “Cocoon” of “Transformation” on AO3

[donald4spiderman]

hear me out…peter talking abt u in his sleep and it leads to him confessing his feelings for you? maybe fem!reader x andrew!peter parker if you could write this? totally up to you, and i love ur writing!

I’LL BE HERE WHEN YOU WAKE UP

sleepy confessions may be just what the two of you need to take your friendship to the next level. (friends to lovers)

tasm!peter x fem!reader

tw: kissing

a/n: sorry this took like five fucking months to do i’m the worst. PLEASE REBLOG!!!

*not proofread*

masterlist

EVERY TIME YOU SLEEP OVER, Peter is out like a light by 10 pm. No matter how hard he tries, he always ends up falling asleep. Especially if you’re next to him.

He feels horrible about it, but he really can’t help it. Peter loves spending time with you, and he hates to ruin all the fun by possessing the sleep cycle of a geriatric man.

You don’t mind—in fact, you’d rather him rest than watch a movie or play a card game. You’re super understanding of his exhaustion due to his responsibilities as both a Midtown student and NYC’s busiest superhero, Spider-Man. Plus, cuddling with your admittedly cute best friend is never a bother.

It’s only 9:30 pm—30 minutes earlier than usual—but Peter drags you into his creaky twin-sized bed anyway, smothering you with his heated torso as you giggle and wither beneath him. You’re no match for his enhanced strength.

“Snuggle me. Pleeeeeaaase.” He pouts, tucking his face into the crook of your neck as you struggle to free yourself from his hold.

You release somewhat of an exasperated groan, but the elation in your voice is still evident. “Mmm...fine.”

“Yes!” Peter grins, slithering his vascular arms tightly around the swell of your hips, face pressed firmly into your chest, “and, uh, can you play with my hair, too?”

“This sure seems likes a lot of labor.”

“Labor of love.” He corrects. He’s not totally wrong.

You thread your fingers through his chestnut hair, fingers scratching and massaging gently at his scrap. You swear you can hear him purr like a kitten—fuck.

Peter hums with content for a while. Then the noises stop, jaw falling open as his breathing slows into a calm rhythm.

You think about falling asleep too, but you’re not really tired at all. You glance down to Peters freckled face, smiling as you trace the outline of his cheeks and nose.

“Hmmmph.” He groans, shuffling slightly.

Shit. Can he sense when people stare at him? He is Spider-Man after all. He’s never mentioned it, though... Shit!

Your worries fade when his falls relaxes again. Okay, good. He’s asleep.

“(Y/N)...” Peter mumbles, startling you, though his voice registers below a whisper.

So he is awake? “Peter,” you reply, “is everything okay?”

“(Y/N). Nooooo, don’t do that!” Don’t do what?

Then the realization dawns on you: he’s sleep talking.

You stifle a laugh, not wanting to rattle the sleeping boy on your chest. His brows furrow together like he’s deep in thought. He murmurs something you can’t quite decipher.

“Stop it. Stop being so...cute.” Peter smiles to himself, snickering. “Mm...you’re so cute. Kayoooot.”

Okay, well, there must be someone else in the dream, too. There’s no way it’s just you and him. ‘Cause then that means he would be calling you cute and that’s just—no, that’s not what’s happening.

You’re certain your heart rate is going a million beats per minutes and your inhales grow shallow; you know for a fact Peter’s senses can detect that kind of thing. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing your lungs and heart to slow.

“(Y/N)! Please,” Peter jerks in he sleep, hands flapping around your waist, “just kiss me.”

Kiss...Peter. This is not happening. No no no. This is not real. Maybe you’re the one dreaming right now because there’s no way your hearing things correctly.

“I love you so much, (Y/N).”

Shit.

-

You barely managed to sleep last night, especially with the extremely snuggly Peter flush against you. You ran through a thousand different excuses or reasons for why he would say things like “kiss me” or “I love you” with respect to you, his best friend. But after a long time spent contemplating, you realized that there was no platonic rationalization behind his sleepy confessions.

Peter likes you.

You woke up long before him, troubled by this epiphany. You haven’t done anything all morning besides pace quietly in his kitchen, nearly disturbed by the ordeal you’re in. It’s not that you don’t like Peter-it’s just-things are so much more fucking complicated now than they should be.

You tense when you hear him shuffle out of his bedroom and through the hallway.

“Morning.” He greats, voice so raspy it’s sinful.

You eyes wander down his toned stomach, stopping at the waist band of his plaid pants where the firm edge of his hipbones jut out. You tear your eyes away and gulp. You’ve never been this flustered before.

“Yeah, m-morning.” You stammer, refilling your glass of water in an attempt to busy yourself.

“Sleep well?”

You sigh, “Yeah, I guess,” deciding to pry a little, you follow up with, “did you?”

He nods. You don’t notice any tell or twitch in his behavior. “Yeah. Like a baby. The usual.”

You nod and giggle, “I know. You slept 12 hours.”

“Holy shit. 12?”

“Uh-huh.”

The conversations lulls in an unsuspecting matter. Usually, the both of you have something to say—endless things to talk about. The atmosphere is uncharacteristically frigid.

“So...” you start, “dream about anything last night?”

His face perks up, “What? Why? No. I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause somebody talks in their sleep.”

Peter’s face falls into his hands. “Cool. Did I, uh, say anything? J-just wondering.” His face goes beat-red as he looks up at you.

He already knows, right? But does he know that you know? This entire thing is a huge mess.

“I may have a heard a few thing...”

“Oh, god,” he groans, “what did you hear?”

You bite your lip, hands fiddling anxiously behind your back. “Well, what do you think I heard?”

“Are y-you really gonna make me say it?” Peter stutters, a bashful yet frightened grin on his face.

“I am. So, say it.” You encourage, holding back a grin, too.

He laughs, anticipation nearly killing the both of you. “I, uh, like you.”

“Just ‘like’?” You tease, smile spreading over your entire face. “‘Cause I recall you saying something a little bit different...”

“Alright,” he concedes, “I love you—in a more than best friend kind of way. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before and that you had to find out like this. I swear I was planning on telling you soon.”

It feels surreal to hear something you never know you needed to hear. Your heart swells with both pride and adoration.

“You really do?” you gleam, walking from behind the kitchen to stand in front of him.

He meets you in the middle, arms wrapping behind your waist to pull you in closer.

“I do,” he whispers, “do you love me back.”

You glance down at his lips, “Mm, I think I do.”

“Think?”

“I need to kiss you first in order to be sure.” You declare, earning a hearty chortle from Peter.

He leans down, cupping your jaw with one hand, the other pulling you tighter from the waist. Your eyes flutter shut when your lips meet, the faintest of touches, before they crash together. You never believed in sparks, but kissing Peter feels like fireworks exploding beneath your chest. God, love makes you sound so cliche. Yeah. You do love him.

Eventually, you break apart, noses still touching—you wish to be impossibly close forever.

“Alright. I know I love you.”

let me know what you think!

[desultory-novice]

If you're still doing this, what are your thoughts on Fecto Forgo, if I may ask?

I'm not even the biggest fan of horror movies, but for some reason, I end up getting caught in a rewatch of John Carpenter's The Thing oh, every two years or so...

So ah, yes, Fecty. (It's not exactly correct, but I'm going to call Fecto Forgo that, because it's easier.) I was pleased with Fecty, to be honest. By the time I got to Lab Discovera, I had completely forgotten about the "fear" rating and then, as I went down the tour hallway, I suddenly remembered it, along with a shiver up my spine.

<Warning: I don't go into any details, but mentions of cruel scientific experimentation, psychological horror, trauma-derived disassociation, and torture here>

I'm not super fond of the "fetal" look they went with (feels a bit of a cheat - that and in phantom form, ends up looking like some kind of evil koala) but otherwise, Fecty was perfectly creepy in all its forms. Oh, and I love the choice of color palette! I watched a video breakdown of the NES Castlevania games once that pointed out how the original game, with its bright oranges, blues and other heavily saturated colors, looked far scarier than the 2nd game's dull stone gray, dull blood red, dull zombie green and black palette. So making Fecty all oranges and teals was an excellent aesthetic choice. So often, chimeric monsters made of the still-living slush of a dozen other creatures are all red and brown and pink and just, doing their best to make your stomach churn. But I'm trying to beat the game, not lose my lunch! How am I supposed to set a new time attack record with one hand over my mouth?!  

Anyway, if it wasn't clear before, it should be clear now that Director Kumazaki really is the master of child-friendly horror...that can still get to adults!

Marx and his ilk of "scary last bosses" are, let's be honest here...not REALLY scary. Creepy elements, sure. But not as scary as some of the truly messed up stuff in the world. The not-safe-for-life-I-wish-I-could-un-learn-this-knowledge tier stuff. But they are more than scary enough. They work with our minds to create an image of horror that ages with you and always plays fair with your experiences AND your tolerance level for scary stuff.

Personally, I almost always prefer a simple to depiction of something to an overly detailed one, as you can READ details into simplicity. A square, when taken as an abstraction, can be a hundred thousand different objects. But something that is upfront and shouting about how detailed it is (look at the PORES on this guy!!) restricts you to seeing only what is there. Of course, there should be a happy middle ground. Something that abstracts too far is going to stumble as much as something that removes any room imagination at all.

Pictured: "A Dragon"

...Ahaha. Got off on a bit of a tangent there.

Anyway, as a character, I think Fecty comes off really well. We're introduced to them as a dangerous invasive species. The tour speech has some questionable bits, but we know we're approaching the last boss, so we're obviously going to be a little concerned this thing really IS bad on our first meeting. And woah! Fecty lives up to the reputation with that 'all shall be consumed' and snatching Elfilin from you and turning Leon into soup and trying to kill you by throwing Popstar at you! But...

...the more the game goes on and the more you learn, the more Fecty becomes...if not sympathetic, then...understandable? 

We don't know WHY Fecty did such damage to the planet upon arrival. My current guess is that it was just...confused. Disoriented. Lost. Maybe it didn't even -mean- to cause the damage it did. With such powerful psychic powers, what if it was just projecting its hurt and sorrow as loudly as possible, and that was where the initial destruction came from?

But then it gets captured and experimented on. To the point that all remaining goodness in it's heart splits from it. Does this remind anyone else of trauma-induced dissociative identity disorder...? 

(DID is presently understood to generally be the result of childhood or early developmental trauma, but then, we don't exactly have a lot of case samples of older people who have lived through what Fecty has lived through - god, I hope not!! - to find out for sure...)

So, now we've got a large critter of, eh, questionable morals (but could still be completely innocent of the initial "attack") who was medically tortured FOR YEARS just because it couldn't be understood and controlled, and because it possessed something the original inhabitants were curious about...

Here's the thing. Fecty's "pure heart" aka, Elfilin, is...good. Like, TOO good. Now, regardless of your feelings on Elfy (heck, I like Elfy quite a bit, but I'm a fan of stuffed animals - and yes, I ordered the Elfilin plush...) I-like-eyes wrote a very valid criticism post on their lack of development and personality as a character in game and I would borrow from those to say Elfy is such a creature of cute, harmless, friend-shaped fluff (as in, "something of little substance," not fuzzy. Although Elfy is surely fuzzy) that Elfy's lack of emotional depth circles around and characterizes Fecty!

:resists urge to go into a huge comparison with “The House in Fata Morgana” in regards to Elfy and Fecty’s relationship:

There is, or WAS, a version of Fecto Elfilis that was far closer to this.

...I could be wrong though. My track record at predicting Kirby stuff remains really low, regardless of how many long essays I write about the series and its characters...!!

:clenches fist in frustration:

Ahem. While Elfy has been compared to the later "talkative" major NPCS (Magolor, Taranza, Susie) and the quiet helper characters (Ribbon, Elline) alike, I think Fecty shares a lot in common with Void. Being like...a version of Void who can talk.

Void is also only presented to us from outside Void's own perception (if it has much of one) being worshipped by Hyness as...well, exactly what Hyness NEEDS Void to be. Hyness was consumed with jealousy, bitterness, hurt, and need for vengeance. Hyness needs a god of destruction, so Void became one. 

Fecty is an invader, but only because we're seeing it on a planet that is not its own. Of course it is going to look and act like an alien. It IS a literal alien! (Also, also! The Fecto + Void comparisons get even stronger when you look at their names. Void, aka, "Ende Nil" and Elfilin, aka, EFILLIN, aka, "Nil Life." )

-

(EFILLIN comes from the morse code you can hear during the elevator ride. Yep. Kirby is now hiding lore in morse.friggin.code!! What's next?! Has anyone run the soundrack through a spectrogram analyzer to look for hidden messages?!)

-

...I'm also really happy for the true, true ending. Having Fecty and Elfy be reunited was a surprisingly powerful moment. And it was done quietly, without words, which is where Kirby does some of it's best storytelling.

I've been hopping back and forth between this essay and one on Galacta Knight, and so I was thinking about how Galacta destroys anything in sight whenever they are released from their prison because...what else are they going to do, really? They presumably fought their unlawful sealing tooth and nail, so the second the seal is broken, they.are.going.to.continue.where.they.left.off.

It feels a little bit like Elfy was telling Fecty they didn't have to keep fighting... 

"The people who hurt us are all gone now. No one is hunting us anymore. We won't be recaptured. You split me off from you to keep us safe. Thank you...

...Now, let me be the one to keep you safe."

[existslikepristin]

Yexercise

This was the vote story immediately after Movie Night. Note: image has all three members from the beginning, but it ended up being all Yeri.

Tags: TheLounge, Red Velvet, Yeri, male reader insert, blowjob, titfucking, anal, va--nilla sex, workout sex, exhaustion, kink talk, appearances from Wendy/Seulgi/Irene but JoY hAs A bOyFrIeNd

~~~~~

"Hey, thanks. You don't need to give me the discount though," you say. You put your wallet back in your pocket, pick up the bag of muffins, and take the coffee from the guy across the counter.

"Nonsense! The Lounge wouldn't be so successful without your help. Besides, the profit margin on that stuff is insane."

The two of you chuckle with each other for a moment, and you smell the coffee he practically gave you free. Fresh roasted and ground on location, not too much sugar, and slightly more cream than usual. "Damn, man. This stuff smells like heaven."

"Heaven? Haha! More like Brazil! But speaking of heaven, who's the lucky lady today? You never get more than one muffin on your own."

You shrug. The man knows you, that's for sure. "Well, not a date this time. Wendy asked me to meet her here,"

"Oh, Red Velvet?"

"Yup. I think it's a business thing. I was asking her about song composing but I'm not supposed to tell you she's getting into that."

"Of course." He raises his eyebrows and flattens his mouth. "You know how Mr. SM can be about these things."

That's exactly what SinB and Eunha said and did a couple days ago, and nobody ever explained what they meant. "Actually, I--"

"Ah, there she is! And Seulgi and Yeri too!"

You turn around to see that he is definitely correct. Holding the door open is Wendy, dressed in a blue-and-white-striped sweater that sags off one of her shoulders, baggy blue jeans, and white sneakers. Her light brown hair is draped over one shoulder. Her casual outfit is contrasted by her exceptional, yet minimal make up.

Yeri has already passed her and entered the building. Unlike Wendy, her make up consists of some lazy eyeliner and not much else. Your heart skips a beat when you see her light gray yoga pants are as tight as a second skin, though her pink hoodie hangs just low enough to see any of her ass. She's cut her hair into a short bob again, and dyed it dirty blonde.

Seulgi follows Yeri, and certainly looks the most put-together overall. Her jet black hair is pulled into a ponytail so you can see her glamorous earrings and bright red lips. She's wearing a nearly wrinkleless white dress shirt barely see through enough to show her bra, black business pants, and short black heels.

A shiver crashes down your spine, nearly making you drop your coffee. You're not sure you'll ever get used to seeing all these gorgeous idols in person, and especially not when they're approaching you.

"Hey, sorry we're late," Wendy opens the conversation, "We got held up for a minute."

Yeri smirks. It looks like she's paying more attention to the menu overhead than to any one person. "Held up by some Canadian grandma driving."

Wendy frowns. "It's called a speed limit."

Seulgi gives you a short bow. You do the same back. Finally, a regular greeting. Then again, it makes sense since she's the one you've spent the least amount of time with. That's not saying much though, since you haven't had much opportunity to get to know any member of Red Velvet. "Good to see you again," she says formally.

"Oh shut up Sluggo, you know why we're here." Yeri points up at the menu. "I'll take the mocha--"

"What she means is... Well, can we talk?" Wendy asks, looking more than a little flustered.

"Yeah, totally. I got some muffins for us to share, but I thought it was just going to be the two of--"

"Fuck yeah, bro! Thanks!" Yeri snatches the muffin bag out of your hand and has one halfway in her mouth before you can protest.

Wendy sighs. "Let's sit down, shall we?"

Getting a table with room for four is a simple matter. Seulgi sits opposite from you, Yeri next to her, and Wendy next to you.

Yeri's busy eating both of the muffins you bought, which may be the only reason Wendy is able to finish her thoughts. "So, we don't have a whole lot of time. We're actually-- well, two of us are going to a gig in like fifteen minutes, but you know we're really busy. I mean, of course, you know us, and we've got a thing in fifteen-- Ugh. I'm sorry, I'm so bad at this. How's your day been?"

Normally in all of your previous conversations, short as they have been, you've noticed that Wendy is generally much more confident than this. "Um, pretty good. It's still early though. Just got here myself, so I haven't had time to do much today."

"Oh geez, that's right. I'm sorry, the last few weeks have really just been blending together, you know? So like, you know Yerin right? I mean, of course you know Yerin. So Yerin has been talking to Joy, and you've been brought up in that, and so we know a little bit about you."

You chuckle and scratch the back of your neck. "Ah, crap. If Yerin's been talking about me, I can only imagine the kinds of things she's said." Obviously, your history with Yerin and her perverted attitude can mean one thing.

Seulgi blushes. "Y-yeah. Is it okay that we're talking to you about this?"

"I mean, we haven't really talked about anything specific yet."

"They mean sex." Yeri blurts out, slightly muffled by muffin.

You laugh. Thinking back on Wendy's texts and her vague word choices, you figured she had a serious question for you, but you still can't figure out what it is she wanted to talk to you about. It's a little awkward that she brought two of her group members with her if she's looking for advice, too. "I kind of figured that's what it was about. But hell yeah, I'm an open book. What's on your mind?"

Wendy lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh my gosh, thank you. I thought I was going to die from my own awkwardness there."

She pauses as a barista walks over with Yeri's drink. You make note of the way, out of the corner of her eye, Yeri watches the barista's ass as she walks away.

Wendy continues with a bright smile that you're a little more used to seeing, "So uh, the three of us are currently looking for something, and wanted to know what your rates are."

You hesitate, piecing together what Wendy just said with the fact that the conversation has been defined as one about sex. "Has Yerin been... saying I'm a prostitute?"

Suddenly, it feels like you're in a pressure cooker. Silence grips the table as the tension rises. Wendy stares at you like a deer in the headlights, her eyes widening slowly and her smile fading.

The sound of the steamer behind the store's counter sets off a chain reaction of noise.

"OH MY GOD," Wendy shouts, "I AM SO SORRY!"

Yeri slaps the table and bursts into laughter, sending crumbs of muffin everywhere. Seulgi is glowing red, shaking all over, and looking frantically between you, Wendy, and the mess Yeri is making.

"I DIDN'T MEAN-- OH GOD--" Wendy grabs your arm with both hands, crushing down as if she's afraid you're about to leave. She lowers her voice to a hushed tone, but speaks at the speed of a runaway train, "I'm so sorry I didn't mean anything by it I supp-- We all support the sex work industry and I'm sorry I didn't me--"

The other two have effectively disappeared. Seulgi, with her arms covering her face and crouched low in her chair. Yeri has fallen to the floor, truly making the scene worse with how hard she's laughing and gasping for air.

For as mildly insulted as you feel, you aren't very surprised, considering Yerin's habit of using insults and crude words as terms of endearment. You smirk and put a hand on Wendy's shoulder. You try to calm her down, but are slightly afraid she won't hear you through her rambling, "Hey, hey. You're good. I'm not a prostitute, but it's fine."

Wendy slows down, but appears to be on the verge of hyperventilation. "I can't believe this. I shouldn't have assumed. Oh god. I am such a dumbass."

You get out of your chair and wrap your arms around her. She immediately shuts up, face melting into your chest. "You're good, Wendy. Honestly, that's hilarious more than anything."

Yeri is calming down a little as well, with the aid of Seulgi furiously brushing away the streaks of black makeup running off of her eyes. Even so, she can barely manage to get back into her chair, still having giggle fits and clutching at her stomach.

"I might not be one, but I think I can help you out anyway. What exactly are you looking for?" You let go of Wendy and watch her dab at a few tears that started with a napkin.

"No, no. I don't think I can say after all that. I am... so embarrassed right now."

Still fighting to catch her breath, Yeri chimes in, "We're too busy to find dick so she tried to find a way to schedule it. Holy shit, 'Sup? How's your day? How much do you charge for a good time, ho?' Right? Wow, Wendy."

"Yeri! That's not what she said!" Seulgi slaps at Yeri's arm and nervously looks around for anyone who might still be watching.

"Might as well have been! This is the best!"

You can't help but chuckle along with Yeri. You stare in her direction, hoping to get her attention with your next sentence, "You don't have to pay to fuck me."

That shuts Yeri up. She stares back. "Woah, you serious?"

You sit back down and glance at Wendy and Seulgi. They're staring too.

"Yeah, why not? Sounds like fun. Hell, I'd go for it right now, but you've got a gig to get to, right?"

Seulgi shakily raises a hand as if she's asking permission to speak. "O-only two of us are going to that."

Underneath the table, you feel someone's foot sliding up and down your leg. You have no doubt it's Yeri's, as she speaks up again, "Why don't you guess which one of us isn't busy today?"

Yeah. Why don't you?

Options for Part 1 [IMPORTANT (duh)]: 1. (Picked:) Is it Yeri? It seems too obvious, given how eager she obviously is. But she could be straight up trolling you. That seems like something she'd do. If it's her, you imagine you'll end up exhausted soon. She seems to have a LOT of energy to burn.

2. Is it Wendy? She's the one who organized this meetup after all. Maybe she'll ask you to come along as she drops the other members off at their gig. If she's the one, you can guess you'll have a very nice, sweet time. She's got those wifey vibes.

3. Is it Seulgi? She's been very quiet this whole time. She definitely took the time to dress to impress today. Maybe it's you she means to impress. If you're spending the day with her, you have no clue what to expect. You've got to watch out for the quiet ones...

~~~~~

You look underneath the table and see it is, in fact, Yeri who is stroking your leg with her foot. Her running shoes aren't exactly making it comfortable or sexy.

"I'm going to guess it's you."

"Sure is, babe." Yeri winks. Wendy and Seulgi both groan in unison. Yeri doesn't seem to mind them at all.

"So," Wendy says slowly, "you really meant that about having sex with us? I don't want to pressure you."

You look across the table and see Seulgi biting her lip, not in an intentionally sexy way, but maybe nervously?

"Yup. I'm not free literally all the time, so we might have to actually schedule it, which definitely feels weird, but I'm up for it."

Wendy grins. "Awesome! Thanks! Thanks? Thanks."

"But hey, to be totally clear, why me? You guys know you can have sex with each other, right?"

Seulgi pops in, "We have. It's just... we all want different things that others aren't comfortable with."

"Yeah, getting fucked softly by strapons is boooring," Yeri says. She glares at Wendy.

"H-hey! You know my hip--"

You're about to ask what they all want to do that's so radically different, or why they assume you're okay with all of it, but Wendy's phone alarm goes off.

"Crap. So, can we talk about this later? We have to get to our shoot."

"Totally, sure. Text me when you're off?"

Wendy and Seulgi are already starting to walk away. Yeri has made herself quite comfortable where she is though.

"I'll text you, yeah! Um, are you okay with babysitting that one for a bit?"

Yeri scrunches up her nose. "The fuck, bitch?!"

You laugh. "Yeah, why not?"

Wendy smiles and rushes out the door. Seulgi follows, but only after giving you a polite bow. "See you again soon!"

The busy life of a big three idol, you muse to yourself.

"Hmmm, seems we've got some time to kill, huh?" Yeri leans forward on the table, squeezing her tits through her bulky sweatshirt.

"Guess we do. I have one formal request to have sex with you and another to babysit you. Bit unusual."

Yeri groans. "Yeah fuck that. You realize I'm well into my twenties right? I want your cock, not a bedtime story."

You decide against telling her about the stories you swapped with SinB just a couple nights ago. "Couldn't put you to bed if I wanted to with that extra large mocha you've got there," you say instead.

“You could put me in a bed.”

“Snappy one. I like it.”

Yeri smirks and takes a sip of her coffee. “I don’t mean right now though. I’ve got something in mind already.”

“You mean what you were going to pay me to do?”

“Sure was, ho. Why? You still want the money?”

You sigh. “Well I’m really not in the business. So if you really want to spend something on me, maybe get me some breakfast? You ate mine.”

“You can eat me.”

After you give her a brief, unamused look, she relents. “Okay. Okay. What do you want? You can eat it on the way.”

“I see you like to make assumptions. And I’ll take a smoked salmon bagel.”

“I’m used to my assumptions being met. And I didn’t know they made those here.”

“Do you assume you’re going to get your way today? And they’re delicious.”

“Maybe I do assume that. I guess we’ll see. And I’ll have one too.”

Yeri hops off of her seat and goes back to the counter to put in your order. Thanks to the lack of a line or crowd, the bagels are ready by the time you’ve followed her. You open the bag.

“Four? Feeling hungry this morning?”

“Oh I’m starving for dick, but only one of those is for me. The others are for you. You’ll need the energy.”

“Question.” You stop, The Lounge’s front door half open in your hand. “Do you always speak so boldly and then follow it up immediately with something vague?”

She smirks and you watch as one of her hands slides around your waist and traces your butt before giving it a tight squeeze. She reaches past you with her other hand and pulls the door open the rest of the way so she can step outside, slowly twirling around you. “No,” she says, “Sometimes, I don’t speak.”

Smooth, you think.

The walk to wherever Yeri is taking you is a pleasant one. She takes your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. She walks in sync with you. She makes easy conversation about work, food, and ideal local vacation spots. She nibbles on her bagel slowly enough that she finishes right about when you finish all three of yours. You almost forget that less than an hour ago she was making lewd comments about hiring you for sex, and that she is currently taking you to a location where she intends to fuck you.

It’s not long before you reach a building that she pulls you into, swiping a key card to open the door. The inside isn’t particularly remarkable, and you don’t see any signs anywhere that would reveal the building’s purpose. Three flights of stairs going up and one more key card swipe through a door, and you find yourself in a small gym.

One wall is effectively a single giant mirror like a dance studio would have, and there’s a variety of equipment you recognize as being for pilates as well as weight training and a treadmill. The floor is ever so slightly spongy-soft, it’s well lit when she flips on the lights, there’s a large potted fern in one corner with a small stereo next to it, and it’s otherwise undecorated. It smells like sweat.

“Personal, private gym?” you ask.

“Personal, private gym,” Yeri says. She drops her purse and kicks off her shoes next to the door, motioning for you to do the same.

“Not that I’m complaining, but couldn’t we have used a room at The Lounge, or your place, or mine?”

“Maybe. But I’m comfortable here. And there aren’t any company bitches here to get on my case for getting our freak on.”

Yeri walks into the middle of the room and pulls her hoodie over her head. It turns out she was only wearing a purple sports bra underneath.

Although she is still fully dressed as far as modern societal standards are concerned, you find yourself staring at her incredibly sexy body as if it’s totally exposed. Her leggings are exactly as skin-tight as you were hoping, practically revealing her firm ass. If she’s even wearing anything underneath them, you can’t tell. But as she lifts her arms above her head to toss her hoodie behind her and to stretch, it’s her mostly bare back and the toned muscle running up and down either side of her spine that catches you off guard. You can’t take your eyes away. She looks at you in the mirror and catches you staring.

“I’m glad you like,” she says, putting one finger between her teeth in the corner of her mouth and giving you a sultry look you didn’t think she was capable of. She twists to look at you over her shoulder. “Your turn.”

You remove your jacket and pull your shirt off. While it’s over your eyes, you hear padding footsteps coming your way, followed by a body being pressed up against yours. By the time your shirt is totally off, her hands are sliding up your back. This is one seriously forward idol you’re dealing with.

“So here we are. I picked the location. What’s next?” Yeri asks, “I’ve got a naughty thought or two, but maybe you have an idea you want to surprise me with.”

Options for Part 2:

1. No surprise, nothing fancy. Just get naked and get started. 2. There must be a shower in this building if it contains gyms. Ask her to take you there and you can get her wet all over. 3. (Picked:) Yeri was literally going to hire you for this, and “naughty thoughts” sound fun. Ask her what those are all about.

~~~~~

“Naughty thoughts huh? Why don’t you tell me about those?”

Yeri grimaces and looks off to the side. “Uh...”

“Uh…” You look down at her, confused. “What? What.”

“I was, you know.”

You hesitate…

“No! I don’t know! What?!”

“Like, I was expecting you to just rip off my bra or pants and go to town, you know?”

“But you said you have naughty thoughts. Why wouldn’t I ask about those?”

“I don’t know! I was counting on you not asking about them!”

You rub your eyes. You’re about to ask why she would bother bringing up the option if she was going to make such a big deal out of it, but she speaks first.

“I want to get fucked while I’m working out.”

“That’s it?” you ask after a moment of hesitation.

“It’s not all I want to do.”

“Well, care to share with the rest of the class? Or are you too embarrassed about having really normal-sounding kinks?”

Yeri shoves you back and takes a few steps toward the pilates equipment. “Are we doing this or not?”

“I’m all for it.”

She grabs the sides of her bra and with no small amount of difficulty pulls it off over her head. You easily forget about the awkwardness as you watch her breasts squeeze out slowly and eventually drop the rest of the way.

Yeri's breasts live up to the hype. When she beckons you over to her (in the same way you would beckon for a dog, annoyingly), you realize your opportunity to touch them for yourself is at hand. Literally.

You grab her by the shoulders first though, spinning her around so she's facing the pilates bench and the mirror. You wrap your arms under hers to feel her tits from behind. They're more than your hands can take in a single grasp. But you're not in this for speed. You bend down to kiss her neck, which gets a satisfied growl from her.

"Bite me," she says. It's not a softly spoken statement, and it's right next to your ear thanks to your positioning, so you're stunned for about half a second.

You do as she demands, taking a small bit of her neck between your teeth and sucking. If she wants hickeys you won't argue.

You're rewarded with a smack on the top of the head. Confused with her behavior again, you pull away.

"I didn't say nibble. I said bite."

"Oh. Uh, sure."

"Like, draw blood."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah! Like, if you're gonna bite, it's gotta be hard! Really get your canine teeth in there, right? Just fucking give it to me."

You stare at her for a moment. "Let's, um, start with the exercise thing first, yeah?"

Seeming suddenly confident again, Yeri hops onto the pilates bench and flips herself upside-down using the bars. She stretches herself out into a position you imagine can't be easy to hold for long. "Sure, if you can reach me."

You squint at her for just a second. She's switching between embarrassment and confidence so fast you can't figure out what's really going on. But at least right now, she seems fine.

Standing up on the bench, you find you’re at nearly the perfect height to put your face between her legs. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do. You grab the waistband of her leggings and pull them down to her knees. Underneath, absolutely nothing. No underwear, no hair. Just a completely bare pussy and smooth ass tensed with the effort of holding her body weight in an upward arch.

It’s a tight fit getting your head between her legs, given that she doesn’t have a lot of space to spread them apart. The reward is worth the trouble.

You flatten your tongue against her pussy to give it a full, long lick. She responds with a long, breathy moan. And since she gives you no reason to stop, you do it again, and again, and again. Each time, Yeri shivers just a little bit, making it obvious how much she’s enjoying herself.

Hands on either side of her hips, just touching for the sake of touching and not holding her up, you close your eyes and focus on your work. Not work. You’re not getting paid for this. Stop thinking about that.

She’s got a mellow taste as far as you can tell. It’s got the tang you would expect, but it’s maybe a little musky. You don’t try to distract yourself, but trying to figure out how Yeri tastes the same way men’s cologne smells is really messing with your head.

It’s when her hips suddenly drop away from your hands that you realize she has been holding herself in place for several minutes. She’s breathing heavily and she doesn’t fall only because her leggings are caught on your shoulders. She doesn’t seem seriously exhausted or anything though. Maybe this was just the first rep.

“Tired?” you ask anyway.

“I also want to try pet play.”

You stare down at Yeri. You’re sure you heard the words that came out of her mouth correctly, but they weren’t the answer to your question. “So… hang on. Back up. What?”

“You know. Meow.” Holding herself up with one hand, she uses the other to make the classic neko paw.

You tilt your head and rub your temples. “Alright. Um, I think we should probably work out what’s really happening here. You gave me a lot to work with.”

Yeri hoists her legs back over your head and stands on the bench again, kicking her leggings off the rest of the way. “Yeah! What do you think? Those are my ideas!”

“They are varied.”

“Is that good or bad?” Suddenly Yeri looks embarrassed again.

“No! They’re good! I’m not here to kink shame you. I don’t know if I’m really into all of that, or if they can all be incorporated into a single session, but I’m totally up for some of it.”

Session? This isn’t an appointment, and this isn’t my job! you think, furiously. You’re suddenly worried if every minor reference to work or professionalism is going to sound like it’s connected to sex from now on.

Yeri smirks, “Oh, okay. That’s fair. Anything sounds good! What do you want to do… with me?” She punctuates the last two words by grabbing her tits and winking at you.

Deadline for this vote is 12/20 at 12:00 UTC! No guarantees on how fast Part 4 will come out, but work should slow down soon, and it’s not like I’ll be going anywhere for a holiday because of this virus, so you can probably expect Part 5 and maybe also another short over that weekend! Options for Part 3: 1. (Picked:) Workout sex sounds like it will wear you out, but getting sweaty with a partner has never been a problem before! 2. Pet play? What was that meow about?! Maybe you want her to play a cat, or you can convince her she'd be something else? 3. Oh fuck, right. Yeri likes vampires. Bite her. [Warning for blood stuff, though not super gory or anything Red Flavor joke]

~~~~~

“Tell me more about this workout sex,” you say. To avoid letting the mood die down any more than your confusion already might have you inch forward, one hand on Yeri’s breast, the other wrapping around the small of her back. You pull her in closer toward you and put your mouth to hers.

Yeri hums into your kiss. She takes a moment to enjoy it before she pulls back. “It’s exactly what it sounds like, like what I said.” She comes in for a couple more small kisses and continues, “I work out. While I do that, you fuck me.”

You bring her back into the kiss, keeping it chaste for now. At least, as chaste as you can get while you’re more than half naked and she’s completely naked and you’re discussing exactly how you’re about to bang.

“I can start over there and bench while I suck your cock.”

You moan your agreement into another kiss.

“Then I can do my squats on it while you take your turn benching.”

You moan your “Huh?” into another kiss.

“Then you can do your squats by pile driving me into the floor.”

So it seems she plans on you working out too.

“So? Are we going to do this?” Yeri holds you back.

You take a deep breath. Whatever higher power you believe in has brought you this far. You’re not going to let it down.

“Why don’t you get down there and find out?”

Yeri practically jumps across the room. She grabs a couple of dumbbells and immediately gets into bench press position.

When you walk over, ditching the rest of your clothes on the way, Yeri looks up at you and smirks. She wiggles the weights around and, in a sing-song voice, says, “Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb.”

You stand above her, unsure how to respond.

“Get it? Dumb Dumb? Dumbbells? The weights?”

“Uh, no?”

“What?! That’s like, a classic!”

“Is that one of yours?”

“Yes! You haven’t heard it?!”

“You just called your own song a classic.”

Yeri rolls her eyes. “Not classic as in old. As in-- I’m about to suck your dick, so laugh at my jokes.”

That makes you actually snort back a laugh. “Okay, I guess I get it now.”

She smiles and hangs her head off the edge of the bench. You make your way next to her head and she licks her lip at the sight of your dick at nearly her eye level.

“Just don’t go too hard okay? I’ve got a gag reflex.”

You crouch just enough so that your dick touches her lips, which she happily opens. The moment her tongue reaches out and touches you, you feel a bit weak in the knees. How you’re going to keep this up and also do real exercise, you have no idea.

Yeri cautiously starts pumping her weights up and down at her sides. You take the same slow pace with moving back and forth. After the mention of her gag reflex you don’t dare thrust for real, keeping it to an inch or so at a time. Yeri more than makes up for the lack of depth with her tongue though, twirling and curling it around randomly.

Thankfully there’s a bar across the bench that you can lean on to prevent a total collapse. Just beneath your head, you watch as Yeri’s chest and arms flex to push the weights up, then relax and spread out as she lowers them. The steady motion, the subtle definition of her body, and her heavy tits are a sight to behold, and so behold it all you do.

Yeri’s tongue sweeps across the bottom of your dick, and you feel a burning desire to be deeper inside of her. You decide to try your luck and push forward a bit farther. She doesn’t so much as lose the tempo in her lifting, so you go farther. Too much more and you’re sure you’re going to hurt her, but her legs are spread to either side of the bench, leaving something else open that you could probably get much deeper in.

You’re suddenly jolted back to awareness by the sound of weights slamming to the floor. Yeri grabs your hips and holds you tightly in place. You think she may have forgotten about the exercise after all with how intensely she’s sucking. But then, she pushes you away and gasps for air.

“That’s one set down!” She grins up at you and strokes your dick.

“Isn’t it bad etiquette to drop your weights like that?”

“Personal, private gym, remember? My gym, my rules.”

“Well not to break your rules, but I want to try something else in your next set.”

“Why? Didn’t you like that?”

“Oh I did, but that’s just the problem. You’ve got me worked up now, and I’m having a hard time holding back.”

Yeri gulps, and you see her whole body shiver. “I-I mean, I’ll try.” She picks her dumbbells off the floor and lays back again, sticking her tongue out and opening her mouth wide.

“I didn’t mean deepthroat! I just meant I wanted to fuck your pussy.”

You aren’t sure if Yeri’s sigh is one of disappointment or relief. “Ah, I see. Well by all means go for it!”

She scoots herself down the bench so her head isn’t hanging off and starts her next set. You walk around her slowly, just taking in the sight, admiring her again. She’s clearly used to the exercise, because her skin is just barely starting to show a few dots of sweat.

Once you’re between her legs, it’s a simple matter to crouch again just a little to maintain the correct height. You couldn’t see it from your previous angle, but Yeri is soaking wet. It’s only been a few minutes really, but already there’s a puddle underneath her. You mentally give yourself a pat on the back for contributing to that.

Yeri’s entrance is tight, but pushing into her is smooth sailing with how much natural lube she’s producing. Every time she lifts her weights, her muscles tense and she subtly clenches down around you. You might have thought this was a weird concept to begin with, but you’re definitely on board now. Not quite in time with her lifts, you thrust in and out. Looking down, you can see her toes curling. She’s clearly putting in a lot of effort not to squirm out of position.

“Seems like you’re having fun, huh?”

You don’t get an answer. You’re slightly annoyed that she seems to be ignoring you, but you realize she’s probably trying to count reps. But it would be fun if you could make her lose track…

You put your hands on either side of the bench and get a good grip, preparing to turn into a fucking machine.

Unfortunately, you’re the one who gets a surprise when Yeri drops her weights again. Her head shoots up to yours for a needy, open-mouthed kiss. Her damp body presses against yours.

“This is...” she says between the moments she has her tongue in your mouth, “so much better… than trying it… with a dildo!”

You try to push Yeri away so you can get a word in, but her arms and legs are both clamped around you. You give in and lower her down so she’s on her back again, putting you right where you need to be so you can roll your hips.

Yeri squeals and her grip on you gets even tighter. “More!” she shouts when she pulls away for a half a second.

You strain to get your hands under her arms and break out of her grasp. Her nails rake across your back quite painfully as you do, but you manage to pin her arms to her sides. She glares up at you, biting her lip and giggling.

“More?” she asks this time.

“Don’t you have one more set to do? Isn’t three sets a thing?”

Yeri scowls. “I changed my mind. It’s your turn to bench. I need to do my squats right now.”

You roll your hips again. You watch, amused, as Yeri’s fingers clench at the air over and over again. You’re a little worried about what might happen when you let her go, considering she seemed to have some kind of blood fetish. But then again, she might just not be trying all that hard to get away. She’s the one with a fairly athletic career and a workout plan after all.

Even so, you can’t help but tease her with another roll of your hips. You have difficulty finding your own words with how good she feels, tight around your cock. “It was your idea to get fucked while you worked out. I’m just holding you to your word, you know.”

A sly smile curls across Yeri’s face, though it trembles when you grind into her again. “I’m keeping my word! I normally only do two sets at a time!”

“I’m not so sure I believe that.” Her legs let up a bit, so you use the leeway to get in a short thrust.

“You calling me a liar?”

“Of course not. Why would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t call me a liar you get to pick what hole I fuck you with while you’re benching.”

She makes a valid argument.

Deadline for this vote will be 12/26 at 6:00 UTC (just in case some of you will be too busy the day before with holiday stuff) Options for Part 4: 1. No complaints from you if she continues with her pussy! 2. Then again, you’ve got a thing for anal, and she’s offering. 3. She could give you a blowjob. It seems like she wants the practice. 4. (Picked:) But also… Yeri is the first person in one of these stories with big enough boobs for a titfuck.

~~~~~

“Well since you’re definitely done with your sets, and since you’re not lying, you wouldn’t mind titfucking me?”

A few quiet moments go by. Yeri puts a hand on her chin, looking down between your bodies, then to her boobs, then at the dumbells on either side of her. She reaches down to grab the weights again.

“There’s lube in my bag. Grab that first.”

You smile and pull out of her pussy, which makes both of you take a sharp breath at the same time. “Doing more benches huh?”

“Well obviously. This is workout sex. I can’t give you a tit job while I’m squatting, so the best solution is for me to focus extra hard on my arms - which is definitely more than I normally do - so you can stand over me.”

Her bluff is pretty obvious, but it’s amusing, and you’re still getting what you asked for so you’re not going to push your luck by calling her out. This is something you’ve been trying to convince Yerin to try for a while, but she’s brushed it off every time. So if you aren’t getting a boob job here, you’re not sure when or even if you’ll have the chance again.

The lube you find in Yeri’s bag is vanilla scented. While you take a moment to enjoy the smell, Yeri lies down and starts another set with her six kilo weights.

You move to stand over her chest and enjoy watching her muscles work again from a different angle. This time you watch her breasts in particular, putting a hand down to lightly cup one and brush your thumb over her nipple. Much like before, Yeri’s focus on her workout is uncanny. You can’t get her to break, so you decide to help yourself.

You pour a generous amount of the lube into Yeri’s cleavage, smearing it all over. Your dick is still wet from her pussy, but this stuff will certainly last longer. The pleasant smell and the sight of her wet breasts turn on your instincts again. You lower yourself until your dick is resting on her, and you squeeze her tits together.

It’s not nearly as tight as anything else you’ve experienced today, of course, but it’s no less of an incredible feeling. When you start to move back and forth is when you realize how heavenly it is, even if it involves some extra effort. As you slide through Yeri’s cleavage, you notice the tiniest glance down from her. Is she losing her focus?

You smirk and reposition your hands a bit so you can casually rub her nipples between your fingers. Again, a small glance down. This time, it’s accompanied by the corners of her lips moving up.

“If you’re enjoying this already, wait until your hands are free to help out.”

“Ssshut up.”

Her arms tremble for a second. It would make sense if she’s getting distracted by the fact that she’s working out. But she hasn’t done that much, has she? Six kilos isn’t too crazy for an athletic idol like herself. You take a look over to the side again when her arms come all the way up.

There’s a mostly worn off line right before the six. She’s lifting nearly triple what you thought she was. Suddenly, you find yourself concerned with where they might land if she drops them again, given where your feet are, and you resolve to not distract her anymore.

That doesn’t mean you’re going to stop the titfucking of course.

You shift your feet back a little and have to lean forward, but you manage to get back into rhythm quickly. You slide in time with her lifting. The next time you look at her face, Yeri’s eyes are screwed shut and she’s biting her lip.

You aren’t able to contain a groan, and her eyes snap open and look into yours. She gives you a smile and after one last pump of her weights, she tosses them (thankfully) to the sides. Her hands clasp over the top of yours. Her breaths are labored, but she speaks through them just fine.

“I’m helping now. What am I waiting for?”

You pull one of your hands from under hers. It takes you no time at all to find her clit. Her knees come up to trap your arm there, as if you needed the additional encouragement. You circle it slowly with your fingers.

“Oh, I see now.” Yeri’s voice is quiet and her mouth quivers. She looks down at your cockhead poking out of her cleavage with hunger in her eyes.

You take your other hand away from hers, but only so you can put it back on top, where you guide her into kneading her breasts around your dick. She quickly picks up on the hint and squeezes down. She even takes the initiative and lifts her head to try to lick you as you thrust.

Unfortunately, she can’t quite reach, but you’re not going to let her effort go to waste. You hover your now free hand next to her pouty lips. You quickly go back in your mind to when she was very interested in biting, but you’ve already sealed your fate, and her mouth is wrapped around two of your fingers.

Something about watching her dutifully crushing her tits against your thrusting dick and sweetly sucking on your fingers with her eyes closed sets you off. You barely have the time to say, ��I’m cumming.”

In that moment, Yeri’s eyes reopen and catch yours. She makes no move to change what she’s doing. So with one last thrust, you groan in ecstasy and orgasm.

Your cum first hits the bottom of her chin, then lands on her neck, then seeps out onto her chest, directed into different directions by her collarbone. She hardly reacts where you can see it, keeping her eyes locked onto yours and wrapping her tongue around your middle finger.

On the other hand, literally, her legs wrap around your arm and roughly pull your hand until it’s fully connected with her pussy. Your brain is still in a mid-orgasm haze, but it’s easy enough to realize what you’re supposed to be doing. You oblige, dipping two fingers inside her. That gets a happy hum out of Yeri, which you feel directly vibrating up your hand.

After you blink the stars out of your eyes, you look down and see that Yeri is scooping at your cum to bring it to her mouth. She sucks it in without letting go of your fingers. You would protest at the awkwardness of feeling your semen being swirled around your knuckles, but the greediness she displays is way too sexually charged for you to care about things like that anymore.

Eventually, she vacuums all of it down and off your hand, swallows, and releases you. She gives you an expectant look, eyebrows raised and mischievous smile plastered across her face.

You continue to finger her, but her eyes don’t move from yours. “Um. Wow, damn,” you say, not sure what else she wants.

Yeri’s eyebrows go higher. “You’re not going to mention…”

“Your amazing body? Or how hot it is when you’re sweating like that?”

Her smile turns into an absolute shit-eating grin. “Protein shakes are good after exercise!”

You bite your cheek to keep from… laughing? An exasperated sigh? You’re not sure, with how terrible and cliché of a line that would have been.

“Yup. Definitely something like that.”

Yeri giggles and pushes you back so she can sit up. She takes the hand you were fingering her with now. “So you still up for more? Joy says Yerin says you can usually go more than once.”

She starts to lick her juices off of your hand. You can’t help but admire her weird pervertedness.

Deadline for the Part 5 vote will be 1/1 at 12:00 UTC (because I am guaranteed not to work that day!) Options for Part 5: 1. Of course you’re still up for more, as long as you don’t have to deal with more of this workout bullshit! 2. (Picked:) You’ll do more, but only after she does the squats she said she was going to do. She doesn’t get to half ass her workout just because you’re here! 3. Nope. You’re out of here. See you around, sloot! 4. Maybe. But you'd actually like to maybe get to know Yeri a little first? You kind of jumped into this real fast.

~~~~~

“What? You’re already done with your workout? You’ve barely done anything though.”

Yeri gives you a dirty look. “I’d normally do more, duh. But you’re here right now.”

“Yeah, to fuck you while you work out.”

“Yeah, which you did.”

“Did you cum?”

“No, but that’s fine. I got what I wanted.”

“Do you want to?”

Yeri looks over at the squatting rack, chewing her lip. “I wouldn’t mind, but it’s hard to make me cum. And it would be dangerous while I’ve got something really heavy on top of me.”

“Challenge accepted then.”

She raises her eyebrows at you.

“You go hard on the rest of your workout and I’ll do the best I can to make you cum once you’re done.”

Yeri doesn’t say anything. She walks over to the rack though, and leans back against it. She looks you up and down, straight-faced.

“If you don’t cum, it’s not like you’re not getting your money’s worth.”

She still says nothing, her eyes landing on your dick.

“Because you’re not paying me for this. Because I’m not a prostitute…” You shrug, unsure of how to proceed when you’re being stared down naked.

“Let’s do it. I want to see if you can do it.”

“If I can? Well, what is it that makes it so hard to make you cum?”

Yeri bends over to grab some weights to put on the bar. “I dunno. If I knew, I wouldn’t have the problem.”

“You nervous?”

“It’s not like I haven’t had sex before.”

“Uncomfortable maybe?”

“No, I’m fine. A bit restless, but who isn’t?” Yeri stands under the bar, adjusting herself so her back is comfortably in the curve.

“I know a couple other people like that. We’ll do a little bit of experimenting. Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t.”

“Good enough for me.”

“Good enough huh?”

“Yup.”

“Sounds unenthusiastic. You sure you’re up for it?”

“I asked you for another round, remember? I just don’t want you getting your hopes up.”

You laugh. “Everything I could have hoped for is standing in front of me nude and about to do squats.”

Yeri chuckles and picks the bar off the rack. “Greasy.”

You just smile and watch as she does the first squat. It looks effortless. You don’t know enough about form to judge it, but it seems like it’s been practiced for quite some time. It’s smooth on the way down, and smooth on the way up. Graceful, even.

The grace of the action is slightly undercut by the fact that she is of course still naked, a little sweaty, and her chest is completely covered in lube. But that makes it no less attractive to you.

As she does more, you walk around, getting a good view from every angle. The mirror wall ensures that if she wants to, she can see you as well. But she seems focused again, staring herself in the eye.

Her breaths are labored. She inhales deeply as she goes down and exhales loudly as she comes up. Her skin starts to glisten all over as her effort comes out in her sweat. You reach out to touch her, but you suddenly get an idea and step back. Shortly after, she sets the bar back on the rack with a heavy sigh.

“What’s up? You can touch. It’s encouraged.”

You go back to her purse and pull out a water bottle you had seen earlier. “I’m going to hold off on touching you for a minute. I like this. I’m changing the plan. I’m not touching you until I can see how much effort you’re putting into this.”

A smirk creeps up one side of Yeri’s mouth. “You’re on,” she says. She catches the water bottle when you toss to her and takes a swig from it. Then she puts another five kilogram weight on either side of the bar.

As she gets into the next set, you move next to her and sit down on the floor. “Look at these hard-working legs,” you say. She didn’t respond the last time you talked to her, but she can still hear you… you assume. This is mostly just you saying your thoughts out loud, but you hope she’s paying attention.

“Taking on all of this to maintain the look of a perfect idol, but healthy. Damn, I would kill for your dedication.”

Glancing at the mirror you see another tiny smile on Yeri’s face.

“What would you say the ratio is? Your effort and practice versus your natural talent. What amount of each is it that makes your performances look so easy? Because watching you right now it has to be at least sixty percent or more in favor of the exercise.”

You reach out again like you’re going to touch her as she comes down, but you keep your hand just far enough away.

“And not just what you do, but the way this body of yours looks. If I wasn’t watching you sculpt it right now, I’d have figured it was sculpted by some Greek god. Belongs in a fucking art museum if you ask me.”

Your hand hovers extremely close to Yeri’s leg. You can actually feel the heat of her body, way above what you’d normally feel coming off a person. It’s like she’s a human furnace. And the amount of sweat on her is very noticeable now.

The bar catches on the rack again and Yeri bends over to grab the water again, drinking a few more swallows of it this time. “Museum my ass,” she says through a breathy laugh.

“That’s what I’m saying! One more set, right?”

Yeri stretches her arms, prompting you to wonder why she didn’t stretch before the workout. Your narrator says you shouldn’t think about it because it’s really hard to remember all of those kinds of details, and that’s not the point of word porn. But yes, you should be careful and stretch before working out.

“That’s right. I hope you’re ready to go again because I’m seriously wanting more.”

“Absolutely,” you say. You stand up and run a hand over Yeri’s butt and up her back, pressing roughly. “I don’t think I’ve even gone soft once since I had this scene in front of me.”

Yeri groans and rolls her shoulders as you touch them. “I can stop now, you know. I could go for the fucking right now.”

“I know, I know. But you’re not done yet. And I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying watching this.” You take your hand away and look Yeri in the eye via the mirror wall. “Hell, I might just have to convince you to do more.”

Without another word, Yeri gets underneath the bar again and picks it up. “If you’re so eager to see more, then…” She cuts herself off and dips into another squat.

Your eyes trace her from the floor up as you circle around. Yeri's thighs tremble from the weight. Her ass spreads from the movement. Her chest heaves from her breaths. Her lips part in just a way that you consider telling her to drop the bar so you can kiss her, but you're committed to watching her finish.

Rather than tempt yourself with the sight of her lips, you look up at her eyes. But you quickly regret it, as she looks back at yours. Her normally bright, mischievous eyes turn into black holes that you can't escape from. You feel a drop of your own sweat curl its way down your cheek.

“Holy shit, Yeri. I can’t wait to fuck you again, but at the same time, seeing this is too incredible to stop.”

Yeri is the one who breaks the gaze first, scrunching up her eyes. You look down again to see the trembling in her legs has gotten pretty bad.

"This is more weight than you usually use, huh?"

"Y-yup."

"How many left?"

"Three."

"Five."

"What the fu--"

You interrupt her with a kiss, since she's fully upright. The heat of the fire inside her drafts into your mouth. You don't want to stop, but you manage to pull away. "Just do five."

She looks up at you, her mouth gaped open. "Kay,"

As Yeri dips down, you walk around her again. Behind her, you put your hands out over her shoulders to spot her when she's back at your height. "Four more."

Yeri glances at you in the mirror, but quickly shuts her eyes again and goes down. You follow to make sure she's safe, but keep your hands off the bar.

Back at the top again, you continue the countdown. "Three."

Yeri doesn’t open her eyes this time. You just follow her down again, lightly resting your wrists against her shoulders to make sure she knows you're there. Her whole body is quivering as she rises again.

She gasps loudly when she's upright. "Keep breathing," you remind her, "Only two more."

"Shit," is the one word she gets out before she goes again. There's a moment when she reaches the bottom that she hesitates, and you fear she's going to drop the bar. You brace your arms, but Yeri clearly isn't one to disappoint. She rises again, shaking like a leaf.

You feel a little bad when she's all the way up again, as she is clearly already beyond what she's comfortable with. Even so, you're confident you can keep her from hurting herself, so you lean forward next to her ear and say very softly, "Just one more."

It seems she's got nothing more to say, because she immediately goes down for the last squat. You nearly lose your balance following her this time.

She squirms as she starts to lift herself up for the last time. The sweat practically pours off of her.

Her form must be a little off too, because the bar knocks against one of the middle rungs on the rack. She jerks back. A struggled croak comes out of her throat, and you can see her face screwed up in the mirror, with the tiniest bit of black eyeliner running down one side of her face. You're just about to grab the bar and push it up the rest of the way, but you barely have the time to make the move when she huffs and practically jumps up the rest of the way.

The bar lands on the rack safely, but Yeri's knees buckle and she starts to collapse forward. Thankfully with how close you are, you're able to catch her almost immediately, and avoid smacking your head on the bar too.

Her skin, even through her sweat, is practically hot enough to burn your hands. You help her lay down on her back and grab her water bottle, opening it and holding it ready.

Despite your concern, you're feeling extremely turned on. Her beautiful chest rises and falls rapidly. Her whole body absolutely shines. And on her face, closed eyes and a satisfied smile.

You put the water bottle to her lips and tilt so just a little trickles into her mouth. "Stay hydrated," you say simply. Yeri complies and gulps down the stream of water.

When you take away the half empty bottle, Yeri groans and uses her arm to roll herself onto her stomach. "Fuck me already."

That's a request you're happy to fulfill. You position yourself over her and spread her ass apart with your thumbs. Your dick is still covered in lube from earlier, and she's pretty slippery right now too…

A pleased hum from Yeri is the last encouragement you need, and you slide into her ass much more easily than you would have expected. Yeri's moan is muffled by the floor.

"So I keep going, eh?"

"Mmmfffmm."

You lift her pelvis up a bit so you can get a hand underneath and on her clit like before. You rub slowly, to match the slow thrusting into her ass. She doesn't move at all, but her moans keep coming. Much like earlier, her pussy is absolutely drenching your hand, so you assume you're doing something right.

Now that you're in full contact with her body, you can feel her heat again. It's hot enough to be uncomfortable, but considering what you just convinced her to do, you don't think your comfort is worth stopping for.

"How do you feel?" you ask.

Yeri lifts her head enough to respond coherently. "My legs fucking hurt."

You chuckle. "Yeah, sorry about that. You just looked so good doing that. Do you need some time to cool do--"

"Don't you dare get off of me."

"Woah! Noted. Nice."

Yeri rests her head on her arms. "The burn is worth it."

"Good to hear. I enjoyed it too."

"Oh? You didn't do much though. After this," she takes an extra deep breath. Whether it's because of something you did or her exhaustion you're not sure. "After this, you can do an actual workout you know. I think it's only fair if you take a turn, right?"

Ummm… is it fair?

Literally only even putting this in because this part was starting to get too long and I need to try to keep them short for my own sanity LOL *dies inside*. So the deadline for Part 6 will be Jan. 4th at 12:00 UTC. Options for Part 6: 1. (Picked:) Of course! You’ve been looking forward to your chance this whole time. You’ll happily get your lift on! Save you a trip to your gym! 2. Sure, if you have to. But maybe it’s something you can discuss when you’re not in the middle of this? 3. You don’t want to work out. That wasn’t exactly what you had planned when you came in, but you’re not going to say that now. 4. No way. You’re here to fuck Yeri. If you’re going to work out, you’ll do it on your own time!

~~~~~

In the time it takes you to pull almost all of the way out and slide all the way back in, you’ve made a decision. “Yeah, fuck it. Maybe you can give me a solid tip or two. I could probably use the exercise anyway.”

“I don’t know. Feels like you’re fine to me, but I’m happy to help if I can.”

“Aw, how flattering. And to think I considered saying no.”

Yeri fidgets a little bit. “That would have been okay. Either way, I don’t want you to stop what you’re doing now.”

“That’s good. Because I don’t want to.”

“But don’t forget. It’s okay if I don’t cum.”

“You know, that’s alright. I’m just going to make this as pleasurable for you as I can while I have you underneath me. Let’s not worry about the orgasm right now.”

Yeri holds her head up long enough to look at you in the mirror and say, “Oh my, you caught on. Thank you. But about the orgasm… I do like the idea of your cum in my ass.”

You’re not going to bother arguing against that. If that’s what she wants, you’re happy to provide.

You give Yeri’s ass a few more long, slow, languid thrusts. All the while, you keep a steady pace on her clit.

For as tired as she must be, Yeri doesn’t leave all of the work to you. She grinds her hips in tiny circles and clenches down on her pelvis. She must be doing some kind of exercise for that too, because you know for a fact both Eunha and Yerin have never been able to do that quite as effectively as Yeri is now (though you do feel a sense of deja vu and the name Seungyeon briefly pops into your head). You have to pause each time she does it, and you’re not sure if you’re annoyed by it or if it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced.

At the end of an extra long stroke, Yeri reaches behind herself and lays her wrist on the back of your neck, pulling you down so your mouth is next to her ear. You take it as a hint, so you nibble and kiss around the outer edge.

Yeri giggles in a low tone. Her fingers stretch their way into your hair and lightly scratch back and forth.

The sensual tone of the moment overtakes your sensibilities for just a second. Just long enough for you to back up and drive in with one powerful thrust. You hear Yeri’s breath catch in her mouth and you bite down where her shoulder meets her neck, just above and behind her collarbone.

It wasn’t your intention to bite especially hard, but you were a little caught up. Yeri’s caught breath turns into the very first bit of a scream before it catches once again. Her fingers spasm on the back of your head, and every other part of her body that’s in contact with yours tenses up.

You also don’t intend to stop. You don’t quite pound into her the same way, but you do move faster than you were moving before. You change your angle to be more vertical, and you manage to get a couple of fingers around Yeri’s clit.

“Oh god,” Yeri manages to say.

Her ass clenches down on your cock painfully hard. Her whole body freezes up, and the hand on your head feels like it’s stuck. You’re just able to keep thrusting. It seems that’s exactly what you needed to do, too.

Yeri screams out incoherently. You’re a little thankful that she’s facing away from you and into the floor, because you feel like you might have lost your eardrums otherwise. Even as it is, your ears hurt.

Her hand falls away and pats the floor. Her voice is much weaker now. “I came… I came,” she mutters.

You cock an eyebrow up. It wasn’t as hard to make that happen as you were led to believe, especially for anal sex. Fully hilted in, you grind your hips around. “That was easy.”

“Shut uuup,” her voice sounds hoarse. You look to the side to make sure the water didn’t get knocked over at any point, because you get the feeling she’ll need it. “It doesn’t usually happen… like that.”

“What do you think was different?”

“I don’t know… the clit stuff maybe?”

“You don’t get your clit played with often?”

“No, I… I said shut up! Can you… let me up?”

You hold back a laugh and do as she asks. Untangling yourself is slightly difficult with her dead weight on your arm, but you help out by pulling her over onto her back and handing her the water bottle.

Looking down at your hand now that it’s free, you see it’s completely soaked. You must not have noticed how wet she was getting with all of the heat and being distracted by the intense fucking. And right where she was just lying down, there’s practically a lake. You’re not sure where her sweat ends and where her sexual fluid begins (but you have a pretty good idea).

Yeri drags herself up into a sitting position against the squatting rack and finishes off the rest of the water. “Well now my legs and my ass are going to be sore for days. Good thing I’m only MCing stuff I can sit down for.”

“Are you going to be okay with that? After that scream, your voice is a little bit…”

“Yeah, I’ll just tell them I’ve got a little cold. They’ll buy anything.”

The two of you smirk at each other.

“God damn though, that was good. Is it weird to say thanks for that?”

You chuckle. “Nah. And you’re welcome. Will you need more water?”

“I’m dehydrated as fuck now, so yes. But there’s a vending machine right down the hall. But this was enough to hold me over for a minute. What are you looking to do?”

Yeri gestures around the room. There’s quite a bit of equipment you could try out.

This will be another short vote period! Voting will close on 1/6 at 12:00 UTC. Options for Part 7: 1. The bench is free. That’s pretty basic stuff, and probably where you’re most confident in showing off. 2. She’s got a leg press machine so you can destroy your legs like Yeri just did. Actually that would have been very convenient earlier… 3. (Picked:) Try your hand (and the rest of your body) at pilates! You don’t know what to do, but you’re sure to get a laugh! 4. You lied! You’re out of here! HA!

~~~~~

You point up at the pilates setup and Yeri laughs.

"Yeah! This will be great! You're totally the graceful type."

You're not sure if that's sarcasm you detect in her voice, but you shrug it off. Her laugh is what you wanted to hear and you're already successful in that.

"Oh of course," you say with a very false confidence, "You know they call me the pilates master? Because they do."

You step over and lift yourself onto the device. You grab a hold of it the same way Yeri did before. At least, you’re close. You're not exactly sure.

Very carefully, you step your way up the bars and find yourself horizontal. Then you go further and completely lose your sense of direction, though you think you might be upside down. The blood rushes to your ears but you still hear the sound of Yeri giggling across the room.

“You weren’t kidding. That’s a super advanced move.”

“Yup. I invented it,” you say, pretending to be sure of yourself despite the disorientation, “I call this move the Reverse Crab with Lion Splash. It’s really good for your kneecaps.”

Looking up, or down, or sideways, one of those directions, you see an upside down Yeri covering her mouth to attempt to hold in her snickering.

You complete your sort-of backflip, so that you’re facing the padded table below you, your knees caught on the middle bar. You can feel your hamstrings, back, and shoulders straining to keep from falling right then and there.

Yeri’s barely contained laughter bursts out. You didn’t think it was that funny, but she’s an odd person, so you’re not surprised. Until, that is, she says, “You’re just freeballing up there with those gymnastics huh?”

It hits you that the sight of your lubed up and mostly softened dick flopping around as you awkwardly twist your way around the bars probably is fairly humorous. And a bit embarrassing to match. You suddenly feel a little bit self-conscious. And yet, you manage one last retort, “Uh yeah. Haven’t you heard of penilates?”

Yeri snorts and pats the floor. “You’re funny, you know that? I like it. Get back down here and I’ll show you how to do some basics if you really want to do pilates.”

Well, as long as she claims you’re funny.

You maneuver yourself out of the bars and drop off the rack. “Alright coach! What do I do?”

“First, come over here and lay down on your stomach. Put your hands to the sides like you’re going to do a pushup, but like, right under your shoulders.”

The lightly padded floor makes the action relatively comfortable. Yeri rolls on her hips so that she’s able to put a hand on the small of your back. A strangely comfortable chill runs up your spine at the feeling.

“Now push yourself up with your arms, but make sure your legs stay attached to the floor.”

You easily follow her instructions.

“Good!” she says cheerfully. She lifts your chin up, putting more of a stretching sensation on your chest. “Make sure you’re looking straight forward. This is called a Swan. It’s not a big deal, but it helps you with stretching out your core.”

“Yeah, I feel that for sure. I was expecting something a little more intense.”

“Most people are. Pilates is pretty easy though. Mostly.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the hard stuff?”

“Calm it down! We’ll get there. Probably not today though.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Because I’d like to do this with you and I can barely feel my legs.”

“Wow, I’m that good of a fuck?”

Yeri runs her hand over your butt. “Yup. It was all you and your sexual prowess and had nothing to do with anything else that happened since we got here.”

The two of you share a chuckle.

“So how long do I hold this?”

“About now would be good. For you, I’d say… do that for about thirty seconds at a time. And three times of course.”

“What if I normally only do two sets?” you ask as you lay yourself back on the floor.

She lightly smacks your ass. “Hey! What did we agree on about not calling me a liar!”

“Oh, sorry. I would never call you out for lying.”

“That’s… pretty much right. Now, up up!”

Once in your second Swan, you have a thought. “Hey, old reference at this point, but I’ve got a question about what you were talking about in The Lounge.”

“Shoot.”

“I asked why the three of you don’t just have sex with each other, and Seulgi said it was about wanting different things and being uncomfortable with it. So uh, have you tried to bite them before?”

“Oh god. Yeah, I tried that once or twice. Real good reactions out of all four of them.”

“Four?”

“Yup. Well, five. All five of us have tried having sex with each other. Still do sometimes, if we’re feeling desperate.”

“But you’re not into it?”

“Basically. Seulgi is in mad love with Wendy but she’s scared to admit it. Wendy is obsessed with Joy, but Joy is trying to convince herself that she’s straight. Irene and Wendy are both only interested in soft, nice sex, but they both want to be penetrated and can’t seem to get their act together with a double ended dildo. Seulgi wants to be a domme, but ever since Wendy was nearly murdered, she has to go easy on her hips. I’m totally into being dommed, but Seulgi is a wimp and when I talk back to her she gets all nervous and shit.”

You assume thirty seconds have passed, so you lower yourself to the floor again. You knew you would get some kind of explanation when you asked, but you weren’t expecting so much information. You think you may have already forgotten some of it.

Yeri keeps rambling, “Irene used to fuck Seulgi all the time, but during their sub unit promotions they got really busy with each other and I think they just kind of lost the mood, you know? Plus, now that Seulgi wants to explore her rougher side, Irene’s just not into it. Joy used to be the perfect fuck buddy for everybody because she was so good at accommodating everyone and enjoying it. Oh actually, she even did the pet play thing with me once! No clue what we were thinking though. I tried to be a puppy, but then I made a joke about Haetnim and that totally shut the whole thing down. And I’m pretty sure that it isn’t a healthy thing for Wendy, because of how hard she’s crushing for a quote unquote straight girl. But yeah, that’s the point with Joy. She’s claiming that she’s totally straight and started dating Cheungae, but I don’t know how long that’s going to-- Oh no, stay on your stomach.”

You had started to roll over after finishing your third Swan, but Yeri holds you back by your shoulder. “Next I’ll have you do a T.”

“A T? Like the letter T?”

“Exactly.”

“Is it like this?” You stick your arms straight out to either side and point your feet straight down, keeping your face on the floor.

Yeri laughs. “Basically, yes, but now pick your head, chest, arms, and legs up as far as you can, looking forward. Hold that for five seconds, five times.”

This move in particular is actually a bit harder, as it sounds like the only part of you meant to stay on the floor is your stomach.

“Sorry by the way. I rant on like a gossipy bitch sometimes. Was that too much information?”

The voting deadline for Part 8 will be 1/13 at 12:00 UTC! Options for Part 8 [IMPORTANT]: 1. “Well, it was maybe a bit much.” You can’t blame her for oversharing, but it’s no big deal. She seemed extremely eager to bring all that up, after all. 2. (Picked:) “Nope! In fact, tell me more!” Should you know all of this? No. Do you want to know more? Absolutely yes. 3. “Yeah, you really shouldn’t say so much.” It was pretty rude of her to say all of that stuff about her members’ personal relationships. Your question was much simpler than that.

~~~~~

"Nope! In fact, tell me more!"

Yeri chuckles. "Just as long as you don't spill any of what I tell you, alright? We could both get in some real trouble."

That's how secrets always work, right? You can keep the secrets and the non-secrets separate and never tell anyone anything that would be a problem, right? Yeah, no problem.

Right?

"Well, I don't think Joy's relationship is going to last much longer. She is trying really hard, but the strain is going to get to her. And one of our members is absolutely going to fuck her soon and restore the balance."

You snort, forcing you to put your hands and legs down. "Restore the balance? What is this, an epic fantasy novel?"

"You know what I mean! She's the perfect fucker or fuck toy for every member, and in the past, she's loved that. She told us so herself. But we've been together for years, so we know when she's not alright. About a month after she started dating Cheungae, she said she couldn't have sex anymore. And it's just been downhill from there. They're fucking each other, but she has said more than once that she misses fucking other people too."

"The things people do for the sake of relationships."

"Yeah, it's cute, but…" Yeri grips your ass cheek as you come out of your last T. "You know how freeing it is to not be in one."

You sigh, thinking for a second about something SinB told you. "Yup… but hey, has Joy talked to this guy about an open relationship? Or like some other kind of arrangement? Just taking a wild guess here, but I'd imagine any guy would die for a threesome with Joy and you."

"I offered. I heard from Wheein that Cheungae's got a dick the size of the DMZ, so I'm all for giving that a spin. Joy rejected the idea though."

"Damn, why?"

"Well Cheungae isn't the problem. Joy is. I don't know if it's selfishness or if she is just trying way too hard to make a normal relationship work, but she doesn't want to share, herself or her man."

"That sucks. I'm sorry."

"Ah, it's okay. Like I said, I don't think it'll last much longer. And as far as I'm concerned, I've got myself a solid replacement!"

"I'm not a commodity!"

"Sure, ho, sure." Yeri giggles and slaps your butt.

You reach between her legs and push a couple of fingers into her pussy. "Sounds like you're trying to get me mad."

"Why would I do that? You… degenerate sack of shit who can't even fuck the right hole?"

Suddenly, you hear the sound of Yeri's phone going off. It's Wendy's voice. "Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!"

Yeri scowls. "Hurry up and pound my twat into the core of the planet."

You hold in a laugh and push Yeri onto her back and climb on top of her. Your sweat mixes with hers as you press your bodies together. She’s not burning hot like before, but she’s still pretty warm, and there’s certainly fire in her eyes as she pulls you to her lips--

“Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!”

Yeri’s tongue invades your mouth forcefully. Your practiced cock finds its way into her with no trouble at all. There’s no hesitation from either one of you. She pulls you into her, and you--

“Are you ready for this? Zimzala-- Yeri! I’m calling you on the important line! Why aren’t you picking up?”

That doesn’t sound like a ringtone anymore. You pull away from Yeri’s kiss, but she suddenly sticks a finger against your cheek. “Don’t you dare stop. I don’t want to feel my legs.”

“Didn’t that already happen?” you ask, with no small amount of snark.

“Yeri? Are you still? Oh god. I’m sorry--” Static crackles through the speaker for a moment. “This must be really awkward for you.”

“Oh don’t mind me,” you say, “I’m just doing my job, apparently.” You back up just a bit and start thrusting hard and fast. Yeri’s breath gets pushed out of her with the force of the first one, but she quickly adjusts and matches your rhythm.

There’s a pause from Wendy. “O-okay. That’s good. I mean, wait! No! Yeri! Irene is on her way to pick you up to take you to the studio!”

“God- dammit- Wendy-” Yeri is having difficulty speaking, only managing to get a word or so out for each time you slam into her. “He’s so- fucking- good- Tell- her- to- wait!”

You could swear that you can hear Wendy blushing through the phone. “We can’t! You’ve got to record…”

“He doesn’t- care- about- spoilers!”

“I mean, I kind of do… How did the call start if we’re over here?”

“I had to install an app on her phone to automatically answer the call-- I mean, you’ve got to hurry and pack up! Irene is going to be there any second!”

Yeri whines in staccato, and is about to say something but is interrupted. And you’re suddenly forced to stop fucking her by a voice that chills your spine like being lost in a blizzard.

“Wendy’s right, Yeri. We’ve got to go.”

Looking to the side, you and Yeri both see Irene standing in the wide-open doorway. The lack of expression on her face is unnerving in a way you can’t accurately describe.

“Come on Irene, please! We can just record later! Just give us five more minutes!”

You feel like you could comment on the fact that Yeri sounds like she’s complaining to her mother to stay in bed, but Irene lifts her eyebrows a few millimeters and your motivation to make a joke is suddenly gone.

“Uuugh!” Yeri reluctantly, slowly, pushes you to the side.

Well, seems like that’s over with. But maybe you can convince Irene to let it not be over with… Or not. Hard to say.

The voting deadline for Part 9 will be 1/17 at 12:00 UTC! Options for Part 9: 1. Irene doesn’t scare you! Tell her you’re not done with Yeri yet! SM can wait for her! 2. Okay, Irene scares you. You should apologize and see yourself out of here. 3. (Picked:) Eh. No big deal. Yeri said that Irene is basically just the same as the other RV members.

~~~~~

You lean back against one of the vertical bars of the squat rack. The metal is very cold, making you flinch. But you play it cooler than the metal, propping your chin up on your wrist by putting your elbow on your knee.

“Hey Irene,” you say casually, as if you weren’t naked in front of one of the most powerful idols in the business, “How’s your morning so far?”

“It’s fine.” Irene is just as casual as you are. She seems more interested in watching as Yeri crawls around the gym on her arms, gathering clothes.

“So you have a new comeback soon, huh?”

Her eyes seem unfocused for a moment, as if she’d just spaced out.

“Oh. Yes,” she eventually says.

Irene’s not especially talkative, you surmise.

“Well, if the recording isn’t too urgent, you can hang out with us for a bit longer. I bet Yeri would be willing to share, assuming you were also wanting in on this situation.”

“Oooh, hey yeah. You want some Irene?” Yeri asks. A cheesy grin spreads across her face. “I got him all warmed up for you.”

Irene gestures softly at Yeri’s bra in the middle of the floor. Yeri rolls her eyes and reaches out for it.

“I appreciate the thought.”

You shrug and move to grab your own clothes. Putting them on feels gross considering the sweat and cum all over you. You resolve to take a shower as soon as you get home. “It was worth a shot.”

Yeri gets her sports bra back on and lets out a long sigh. “You sure though? My voice is a little fucked up right now. We could say I’m sick and that you’re just taking care of me like a good leader.”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

A woman of few words, this one.

With your legs fully functional, you’re able to finish dressing much quicker than Yeri, and approach Irene, giving her a standard bow. “Good to meet you, by the way. Sounds like you’ve already heard about me.”

“From Joy, yes.” Irene bows back to you. “Is it okay if I get your contact from Wendy?”

You blink in shock. That was easy enough. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good to me.”

Irene nods, expression still inscrutable. “Do you prefer calls or texts?”

“Either works for me.”

Yeri pops in. “He’s not actually a prostitute you know.”

For the first time, Irene makes a face you can decipher. It seems to be a bit of minor, subtle shock. “Oh, so this…” She points back and forth between you and Yeri. “Was for…”

You finish for her after she pauses. “The hell of it, yeah.”

“I paid you in salmon bagels,” Yeri says.

“Well that and a free pilates lesson, sure.”

The tiniest smile curls up the corners of Irene’s lips. “How fun.”

It gets silent again, besides the sounds of Yeri huffing as she works to get her pants back on.  You nod quietly, unsure of how to respond.

Thankfully, Irene looks you in the eye and motions for you to come closer, which you do. While Yeri is occupied with pulling her hoodie back over her head, Irene leans in close to you and whispers into your ear, so quietly it takes you a moment to process what she’s saying.

“I heard you earlier. Stay away from Joy.”

You back off again, a little struck by what sounded like a very calm threat.

“I’m parked downstairs Yeri. No more than five minutes, okay?”

“Oh come on, you tell me that now?!”

Without another word, Irene turns and walks back out the door. You’re still a little stunned, watching the back of her head, when she looks back over her shoulder and gives you a coy smile and a wink. Your head swims with questions.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at the now-closed door, but you’re snapped out of it by a loud smack on the back of your jeans, just below your ass. Yeri’s next to you, keeping herself upright with her hand on the wall. “A little help here?”

You look down and see her legs are shaking like leaves. “Oh shit, yeah, I’ve got you.”

Scooping your arm under hers, you support as much of her weight as you can on your shoulder. It feels like she’s mostly able to stay on her feet on her own, but she definitely wobbles a bit.

“You going to be okay?” you ask once you’re in the hallway.

“Oh totally! I’ll be able to walk... mostly normally once we’ve reached the studio. But you know how it is. Squat until your legs give out and then immediately get ass-fucked to an unexpected orgasm, and that’ll give you a few minutes worth of trouble.”

“That’s not actually a sensation I’m familiar with.”

“Who knows? Maybe Seulgi will get her domme act together and then you will be!”

You’re not so sure how you feel about that.

“Hey by the way. Irene was asking about getting your number, right? Can I get it now? Faster than getting it from Wendy since she’ll probably be out all day.”

This will be the last vote for Yexercise! *Wipes away tears* The deadline for this vote will be 1/23 at 12:00 UTC, at which point we’ll be talking on the Discord server about what’s next! Options for Part 10: 1. (Picked:) Of course she can have your number right away! You had fun, she had fun, you should have more fun! 2. Don’t let this crazy have your contact info. In fact, you should let Wendy know to give her a fake number…

~~~~~

You don’t even need to say anything. You pull out your phone, open your contacts, and hand it to Yeri. She puts her info in and sends herself some random gibberish in a text.

“Awesome!” she says, slipping the phone back into your pocket expertly as you make your way down the hall together, “No requests for sleazy pictures though. Can’t have anything getting out if something happens to your phone. Or mine.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream-- well, I would dream of it. But I won’t ask.”

Yeri giggles. “Ah, hey. The water’s right there. Wanna stop for just a second?”

At the machine, Yeri swipes her key card just like she did at the door to the gym. It only contains what you recognize as the cheap water brands, unsweetened tea, some dried fruit snacks in plain packaging, and a variety of protein bars. There’s no indicator for payment anywhere though.

“Perks of the personal, private gym?” you ask.

“Perks of the personal, private gym,” Yeri says.

A couple of water bottles are pushed out at arm’s height. Yeri hands one to you, takes the other for herself, and you both gulp down about half before continuing.

“I’ve got to say, I was expecting this to be one of those expensive waters. Blessed by monks, imported from Egypt, shit like that.”

Yeri smirks. “You know what they say. SM water tastes like water. No reason to spend wastefully.”

She finishes her water off, and you get to the stairwell. You think that three flights of stairs might be a little difficult at the moment, but fortunately there’s an elevator nearby you hadn’t noticed when you were following Yeri up earlier.

As you’re gradually taken to the ground floor, Yeri nudges your side. “If I ever share something juicy with you by the way, I expect at least five words in response. None of that ‘LOL’ followed by silence stuff.”

You laugh. “What if I can’t think of anything to say?”

“You can just bullshit an answer. No biggie.”

“What if my life is threatened because I know your gossip?”

“Your life, huh?”

“Well, not specifically. I just assume Irene will break every bone in my body. I guess I can live through that, right?”

“God, she better not be doing that again.”

You stare at Yeri. “Doing that again?”

“Making people uneasy. Point is, don’t worry about her. She’s just got a… uh, an unusual way of communicating, we’ll say.”

“Something like that, sure.”

Yeri puts her free hand on your chest. “She’ll warm up to you, I promise. I’ll put in a good word for you! As long as you do me one more favor.”

Anything to get a good word in to Irene so you don’t end up murdered. “What’s that?”

“Just give me one more, real good kiss in front of her. Right up next to the car window!”

You wrap your arms around her waist and shift Yeri so she’s in front of you. “Like this?” you ask, and half-lift her to your height. The moment your lips touch, you feel the elevator jerk to a stop and the door opens.

“Maybe a bit more than that, but I like where your head’s at.”

“It could be between your legs,” you say, mimicking Yeri’s seductive tone from earlier at The Lounge.

“Don’t tempt me like that!”

All smiles, you help Yeri feebly get outside. You spot a car with dark windows, where you can barely see Irene’s silhouette inside. It also happens to be the only car on the street, and Yeri easily confirms that it’s the correct one.

Yeri is thankfully able to stand on her own once you get to the passenger side. You open the door for her, but before she gets in, you spin her to face you and dive in for a real kiss. She moans and her arms wrap up under your shirt instantly, so you respond by sliding one hand down the back of her yoga pants. It should be right where Irene can see your fingers outlined through the fabric.

Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a reaction from Irene. You wonder what it will take to crack her neutral act.

“Mmm, even more than that next time, okay?” Yeri pulls away from you and turns to get into the car.

“Of course. I might charge you one extra water bottle next time though.”

“Uh-oh. I’ll be sure to save up for it.”

You laugh together before she sits down. You lean over to pop your head in after her. “See you next time then. And good to finally meet you Irene!”

Irene looks up at you from the book she was reading. “Hm? Oh yes, a pleasure.”

Yeri catches your gaze again. You can see the moment of sudden, unbridled thrill in her eyes, so you wait for her to say…“No Irene! The pleasure was mine!”

Her hand shoots up, and you meet it for an excellent, but questionably deserved high-five. Irene sighs heavily.

You laugh and back up again. “Nice one, Yeri. See you later.”

“See ya, ho!” Yeri shouts before closing the door. As is the case with Yerin, you’re pretty sure you’re stuck with nicknames like that from now on.

You wave the car goodbye and turn back around to make your way back home. You could use a shower.

THE END

~~~~~

Post-story notes:

Hey everybody! Thank you again for joining me for one of these crazy vote stories. I’ve really appreciated the participation, and I think we’ll be getting even more next time!

We’ll be discussing the subject and characters for the next story on the Discord. Suggestions so far include (forgive me if the capitalization is incorrect on these)… Dreamcatcher, WJSN, Mamamoo, Momoland, CLC, Oh My Girl, Lovelyz, more Gfriend, and Fromis_9! But nothing’s set in stone yet! Fill out the form in #announcements if you have even more suggestions to add to the hat.

As for when the next story starts, I’m going to say probably the first week of February. As you may have seen me mention, I’ll be writing some shorts just to spill some of my creative juices. On top of that, I quit my day job! Because I’m starting school! So exciting and nerve wracking! Given how stupidly stressful my day job was, I’m hoping I should be able to pump out stories a little more frequently moving forward.

The storyline unlocks from Yexercise are going to look pretty obvious: [Yeri - Workout buddy] [Yeri - Gossip girl]

And just like with Movie Night, here are some fun facts about unpicked options! At least one of you read these last time, and made a very astute observation about Sowon, so you’ll be getting your wish for that fairly soon.

Part 1. Picking Wendy or Seulgi would have (obviously) resulted in a different name for the story altogether! The names I had in mind weren’t finalized, but the top contenders were “Snow Day” for Wendy and “Dom-Flavored Pringles” for Seulgi.

Part 3. Yeri had two animals in mind for the pet-play: She could have been a cat or a cow. The option to be a puppy would have also been there, but she would have been skeptical about it given her history trying that with Joy.

Part 4. At first, I wasn’t planning on there being any anal in Part 6, but because the vote for Part 4 was SO close, I went back and changed my plans, just so y’all could get what you wanted. :P

Part 5. Again, just mentioning how close the vote was. I was very interested to see that for most of the voting period, the options to keep Yeri working out and to stop and just talk to her were neck and neck. I’m still feeling out what the best balance is between fluff and smut, and you guys are surprisingly wholesome!

Part 7. If you had chosen the leg workout, you’d have been too exhausted to help Yeri out of the gym, resulting in Irene rescheduling the recording session. She’d have stayed to hang out, and that would have blocked off the [Yeri - Gossip girl] storyline (which does have some smaller impact on the relationship with Irene moving forward as well, btw).

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛: 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝒏 𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒕/𝑬𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑴𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒀𝒐𝒖 (𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅)

Warnings: NSFW content. Read at your own discretion.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

After endless scrolling through the list, Hongjoong was becoming impatient and fuzzy.

"Y/N just pick a goddamn movie! It's cutting into my cuddling time!" He let out a huff and plopped his body to the side on the bed, huge pouty lips as one arm reached out for you.

"Ok there! I just picked one ok?!" You slightly panicked and just clicked on whatever the next option was.

But Hongjoong was finally satisfied when you came closer to him and he could finally wrapped his arms around you, encaging you in his embrace, him the big spoon and you the little one.

"Oh it looks like it's a romantic comedy." You mused out loud, not really paying attention to what you picked.

"Perfect. I was in the mood to be a hopeless romantic anyways." When he nuzzled his nose against your neck you let out a squeal and tried to squirm out of his arms but it only served to have him wrap his legs around you.

The movie was indeed very romantic and funny for the most part. But somewhere along the way a rather not so PG scene came up that had both Hongjoong and you freezing, eyes glued to the tv in embarrassment. Just as you shifted to reach for the remote, Hongjoong's hand held your hips and effectively kept you from moving.

"Don't...." He whispered in your ear in that tone of his that had you pooling in between your legs.

You lifted your hips when he began pulling your pajama shorts and panties down, making it easier for him to take them off. You bit your lip when you felt him do the same to his sweatpants behind you.

"I thought you were in the mood to be a hopeless romantic." You teased him by pressing your ass back against him.

Hongjoong chuckled before sliding his length across your folds, lips ghosting over your neck.

"I was...but now I'm in the mood to hopelessly fuck you into the sheets."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

You tried to keep your eyes from tilting to the side, afraid to meet your boyfriend's face as the makeout session currently playing was getting more and more heated. Your gaze shifted nervously at the table in front of you, then to the floor before it crept right back up at the screen.

Now the actors had their clothes off and although you would have looked away, seeing the male actor suddenly go down on his female counterpart had you remembering all the times Seonghwa would go down on you. You couldn't resist rubbing your thighs together as you started to get wet, your focus staying on the screen.

"Are you getting hot baby?"

Of course your reaction did not go unnoticed by Seonghwa, who had shifted in his seat to look at you as you subtly squirmed in your place. Finally looking over at your boyfriend, he was looking at you with those bedroom eyes that never failed to melt you. His eyes dropped down to your lap, tongue poking out to wet his lips. In an instant, he had gotten himself off the couch and was kneeling right in front of you.

"S-Seonghwa.." Your cheeks burned red as his hands began to undress your lower half.

He didn't stop though. He ran his hands across the smooth surface of your skin, drawing circles across your inner thighs before prying them open, your wetness exposed to him. With a subtle smirk, he began placing kisses along the trail towards your most intimate parts.

"You know it's just acting. All that on the screen? Super fake and unrealistic."

You let out a sharp gasp when he suddenly pulled you closer to him, his nose lightly bumping against your clit.

"Let me show you how you really eat out a pussy."

You threw your head back as he latched his mouth onto your heat, moans already spilling out your mouth as he worked his tongue around your clit, occasionally humming against it so you'd be left even more breathless.

"Still an hour left of the movie, let's see how many times I can make you cum."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Watching a movie with R rated content with your boyfriend was no mere coincidence or accident. You purposefully planned it and for a good reason.

Being the doting boyfriend he was, he let you pick out the movie while he prepared the popcorn and other snacks. He came back into the living room, clueless about what he was in for. Didn't even suspect anything as you layed your head on his chest, he simply wrapped an arm around your shoulder and would occasionally place innocent kisses on the top of your head.

When the explicit scenes started coming out, his reaction was almost immediate. He shifted rather uncomfortably and you had the perfect view of watching as a tent started to form in his pants. Smirking, you let one of your hands roam around his thigh, which had him shivering.

"I'll be right back. Gotta use the bathroom." He carefully pushed you off him, once again about to make an escape away from you.

"Jeong Yunho stop right there." You harshly said. Your tone paralyzed him in his seat, he swallowed hard and cursed himself as he felt himself getting harder at hearing your commanding voice.

Yunho widened his eyes as you began undoing his zipper, face turning beet red when you began taking his cock out.

"Y/N you know you really don't have to-"

You shut him up with a wet and sloppy kiss, surprising him when your tongue massaged onto his. You grinned when he moaned in your mouth when you wrapped your hand around his shaft.

"I know I don't have to. But I also know you have needs Yunho and I want to help you out."

Yunho couldn't help but buck his hips up into your hand as you began pumping him slowly, your other hand soon wrapping around his massive length as well since one hand wasn't enough.

"Didn't want you thinking I just wanted sex or wanted to pressure you to do something you didn't want."

His confession only made you love him more. You couldn't help but to start sucking along his neck while your hands continued to pump him.

"Believe me, I've wanted to do this for a while."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

You weren't too particularly affected by the sex scene playing on the tv. It was mostly a soft, vanilla scene that hardly showed anything so you didn't really pay attention to it. And judging by the way Yeosang had that usual blank expression on his face, you guessed that it was the same for him.

The movie was honestly lowkey boring and full of cliche romantic stereotypes that you felt like you were about to doze off. Correction, you were dozing off, your eyelids became heavy and more than once you had to snap your head up to keep it from falling to the sides. You were drifting in and out of sleep you thought it was your imagination when you felt a hand grab a hold of yours. When you started to feel tiny kisses being drawn up your arm, you opened your eyes only to be startled by none other than the gorgeous face of your boyfriend, who was looking at you with tenderness and love.

Placing soft and tiny pecks across your face, his hands gently pushed you down onto the bed, then they locked themselves with your hands, interlacing your fingers with his. His kisses were now becoming more heated but they were still gentle, so you knew he wanted to take his time with you. When he began to rid you out of your clothes, you didn't stop him, only helped him out. Soon both of your clothes layed in a pile on the floor. Yeosang's mouth was still busy kissing across your neck and chest, while his hips grinded against yours.

"Here I thought the movie wasn't affecting you." You giggled against his lips, fingers running through his fluffy black hair.

You could feel him smile against your cheek.

"It did, it very much affected me so."

You let out a squeak when he gripped your hips and positioned himself at your entrance.

"Made you want to fuck me?" You teased him.

Shaking his head, Yeosang never took his eyes off you as he slowly inserted himself inside you, your walls perfectly nestling him. You were both hissing and moaning at the feeling, remembering that it had been way too long since you've been connected as such.

"No.....made me want to make love to you."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

Both of you stared intently at the TV. Honestly you both thought that watching 365 Days was going to end with cringing and disgust but quite the contrary, it was actually very entertaining despite how cheesy it was at times. San was making it painfully obvious how turned on he was too. He'd often take your hand and place it on his crotch. Or he'd suddenly lean in and start attacking your neck.

"Behave." You often warned him, not about to give in to his bratty antics.

San wasn't going to stop anytime soon, you knew it and you secretly wanted him to take it further. During one particular scene, San began palming himself.

"That's so hot, maybe I should do that."

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Do what?"

He let out a mischievous smile as he stared you down, practically taunting you.

"Tie you up and make you watch as I make a whore suck my cock to show you how it's done."

No sooner those words were out of his mouth, you gripped his chin, smooshing his cheeks together before slapping him across the face. He was stunned but the slap only fueled his sexual arousal. Grabbing him by the hair, you practically dragged him into the bedroom. San landed with a thud on the bed but had to time to react as you were suddenly strapping his hands to the bedpost.

"You know...I'm actually glad I decided to keep the ropes tied here."

San let out a gasp when you stripped him of his pants, letting his erect cock hit against his stomach before taking it in your hand, giving it a firm and tight squeeze, nails digging into his shaft which had him squirming underneath you. Lowering your head, you licked your lips as his tip stood mere centimeters from your mouth.

"Now my little brat, let me remind you how much of a pathetic, worthless and stupid slut you become with just a simple blowjob."

San whined as you slurped at his head harshly before letting it go with a pop.

"And also remind you that this cock is mine and no one else gets to suck it."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

You were honestly so startled by Mingi's piercing scream that you nearly dropped the bowl of popcorn in your hand.

"What the fuck Mingi!?" You exclaimed when he suddenly reached over and tried to take the remote while simultaneously trying to cover your eyes, effectively spilling all the popcorn on the floor.

"Inappropriate scene! Must skip!"

With one hand still over your eyes, he skimmed through the scenes until it was over and it cut to a completely different one.

"Ok , there." He sat back in his seat as if nothing happened.

You rolled your eyes at your overly dramatic bestie, sometimes you swore he was such a baby even when you knew he watched worse porn than what just played. Soon you were laughing when he started freaking out yet again when another sex scene came up, this one even more kinky than the last one.

"Why is there so much nudity and sex in this movie? I thought it was supposed to be cute?!" He started changing the scene yet again.

"Who said it isn't cute?" You snorted.

"How is 2 naked people doing the nasty anything close to being cute?"

Tired of his nitpicking and wanting to shut him up, you got off your seat and suddenly straddled him with no warning.

"What are you-"

Mingi didn't finish his sentence as he stared wide eyed at your bare chest after you pulled your hoodie over your head and let it drop to the floor. You giggled as his mouth dropped open at your breasts being so close to his face.

"See? Cute. Your facial expression is cute right now." You gently massaged his hair.

"Your boobs are really cute." He blushed when he inadvertently blurted that out.

Mingi inhaled sharply when you suddenly pressed your face close to his, your hands taking hold of his and placing them on your soft tits.

"If you want to play with them, be my guest."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

"Are you horny yet?"

You looked over to see your annoying friend looking at you with a shit eating grin on his face.

"You wish." You scoffed at him.

Maybe you were both being stupid rather than being prideful, but neither of you wanted to budge and lose the bet you had made hours ago. You bet that the other couldn't sit through an entire 19+ movie without getting horny and running to the bathroom to go relieve your built up sexual tension. Neither of you could look away nor touch yourselves or rub against anything in any way. You both thought it was going to be a piece of cake.

But barely 20 minutes in and one of you was growing a major boner while you were sitting with drenched panties by now. Your teeth were practically gritting against each other as you tried so hard not to rub your thighs together, while Wooyoung's hands were tightly clutching the pillow he was holding. You both made the mistake to look over at each other to see how you were doing, both of your faces reflecting how turned on and needy you were.

With no words, both of you suddenly lunged at each other, not knowing what came over you both. You just knew that if you two didn't do something about it, you were surely going to go insane.

"I knew you wouldn't last." Wooyoung teased you as he slapped his cock again your clit.

"Shut up and fuck me already before I go fuck myself on my dildo and leave you with blue balls." You warned him.

Wooyoung immediately pushed into you, not letting you adjust as he instantly began to ram his cock deep inside you. Not that you cared, you were so wet and desperate to get some relieve and his cock felt amazing inside you.

"Fuck! If I had known your pussy felt this good I would have fucked you a long time ago." Wooyoung grunted as he wrapped your legs around his waist to thrust deeper in you.

Through pants and mewls, you managed to smirk at him.

"I knew you always had the hots for me."

You let out a choked gasp when Wooyoung suddenly went harder and faster in you, making you feel dizzy as you felt your built up coil about to snap.

"Don't pretend like fucking your best friend wasn't on your bucket list either."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

"Do you think spanking is actually very.....arousing?"

Judging by the way your friend was raising an eyebrow at you, you guessed it was not exactly a good question to ask. But you were curious, especially after the kinky 50 Shades of Grey scene you just saw.

"I mean...... I don't know. I've never really tried it." He answered.

"Neither have I."

Noticing your curious look, Jongho paused the movie before turning to you.

"Wanna try it out?"

When he noticed your hesitation, he shot you a kind smile.

"Look it's ok. It'll just stay between us and if it doesn't work out, no one will know."

Trusting your friend fully, you allowed him to bend you over his lap and didn't shudder away when he pulled your shorts down, your panties accidentally coming down with them.

"Holy shit..." Jongho muttered as he stared at your glistening and pink pussy, his cock throbbing inside his pants at the sight.

Raising his hand up, Jongho let it fall on your ass. He tried to be gentle, but since he couldn't really measure his strength, it ended up being rather hard, and you gasped sharply at the sting.

"I'm sorry!" He exclaimed.

"No! Do it again."

Although he was surprised by your reaction, he happily obliged, giving your ass a couple more spankings. He hated to admit it, but seeing your cheeks turn a crimson color, hearing your whimpers and watching your folds produce more juices was starting to affect him.

"Oh my god! Can you please fuck me?!" You suddenly begged him.

"Fuck! I'd love to Y/N, but I don't have any condoms." He said in a regretful tone.

"Then fuck my ass. I know you want to. I saw the way you bit your lip at the anal scene."

Jongho nearly came at your suggestion. He fumbled to rid himself of his jeans, but he got them off and his thick cock was now pushing itself into your tight hole. As he eased himself in, you let out a yelp when his hand came down to suddenly slap your pussy.

"We tried ass spanking, now let's see how much pussy slapping affects you."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

[eroticandawkward]

What Happened In The Desert II Jack x Thomas from Mojave

Rating: 18+

Warnings: mentions of violence, but nothing you wouldn’t see in the movie itself. Blasphemous use of Jesus’s name.

Description: an alternate ending to Mojave, because it’s a short walk from trying to kill each other to knowing each other Carnally.

 They never really talked about it, never made an agreement all official-like. To tell the truth, Jack thought he’d never see Mr. Angsty Hollywood Hunk again, not after he’d bent Jack over that table and fucked him like some feral beast with the gun pressed to his temple. Seven shots into the sand when he was done, and yeah, maybe Jack lied about the whole Russian Roulette thing, but all is fair in love and war isn’t it?

Anyways. No use going after him again, what with all the security guards buzzing around him like flies 24/7. The way Jack sees it, he came out on top, gets to roam around the desert and the Anaheim Walmart and that little gas station where they leave the hot dogs heating for a little too long so it crunches like a fucking corn chip when you bite into it. Thomas, meanwhile, well. A cage is a cage is a cage. Man was suffocating long before he had warm bodies boxing him in and slipping him their headshots and scripts on the kitchen fucking counter.

There was the question of how Thomas got past his little babysitters, then, and the question of how he found Jack in the middle of the whole ass desert. Maybe he followed the red string of fate that was connecting them two. He’d have to ask him sometime. Not that they talked much, or rather, not that Thomas talked much. Jack got it, he did. “Public life’s an afterlife” and all that. All American Boy talked enough in interviews and daytime tv and fan meetups fueled by alcohol. In the Mojave he could let all that go, the carefully crafted persona falling prey to the darker nature hiding inside all men. Besides, Jack could talk enough for the both of them.

So that was the rhythm of things then, this sporadic undoing in the desert, Yeshua balls deep in Satan for a night so he could return all clean and good to his loyal adoring disciples in the morning. It wasn’t a bad deal, all things considered.

7 months had passed before Jack heard the quiet click of a gun’s safety coming off behind his head. He swallowed the rest of his bourbon- good stuff, nicked it off one of those survivalist vegan types- and didn’t turn around.

“Ain’t you gonna ask how I’ve been brother?” he hummed, observing the empty glass.

“No.”

“Well now that’s just bad manners. Man puts a gun to another man’s head, he should at least give a line or two for the peanut gallery.” He let his voice drop to Clint Eastwood's growl. “’Go on then, make my day’ and so on and so forth.”

“It’s go ahead, make my day,” Thomas corrected.

Jack shrugged and leaned back in his chair. The pistol brushed against his neck. “Misunderstandings and misrememberings, brother. The intention’s the same at the end of the day. “You know-“ He paused to pour more bourbon in his glass, took another sip. “-I caught you on the tee-vee the other day, brother, yes siree. Hamlet, brother, the good stuff. What were you, 23, 24? Still enamored with the high life, I imagine, all the eyes on you looking at you like you’re the hottest thing since sliced bread. You make a fine Hamlet, brother, I will admit that, a fine Hamlet indeed. ‘Course we know it’s all pretend; you can’t fathom a world where everything and everyone is turned against you.”

The pressure of the gun on his neck increased. “And you can,” Thomas said. It wasn’t a question, but there was no sympathy in the statement.

“Well, as I told you when we first met, brother, I’m a Shakespeare man,” Jack replied, before throwing the glass at Thomas’s head and going for the gun.

And this was part of the rhythm of things too, pretending to kill each other as a foreplay designed to lessen vulnerability. It’s alright if you put your dick in another man’s ass as long as you’ve tried to send him to the Underworld first.