#sometimes i need to work on like three projects at the same time

[cyberneticdryad]

too many hobbies, too many hobbies, tOO MANY HOBBIES, too many hobbies, t o o m a n y h o b b i e s

[skrunksthatwunk]

household enemy to the yyh watchthrough number one is the olympics. it's taken us a week to get two episodes into the gamemaster fight

[omgthatdress]

Sooooo ummmmmmm this is something that's probably going to piss a lot of people off, but I feel like I really need to say it.

If you get a message from an account claiming to be a Palestinian fundraiser, it is a bot. It is a scam. You need to report & delete the message and encourage others to do the same.

I know because I get messages on this account DAILY. I have a very high follower count and I'm pretty active and I interact with my followers a lot, and apparently that all adds up to one big bot magnet.

Bots following and messaging this account was a MASSIVE problem before Tumblr fixed its new account policies. I used to spend literally hours blocking and reporting the hundreds of bots that I would get following me each day.

I learned a lot about bots and how to identify them. The easiest way is with no avatar, "untitled" in the blog description (BTW if your avatar is still set to default PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD change it because you run a substantial risk of being accidentally blocked & reported as a bot).

One of the dead give aways of a bot was what I call "word salad" names. Three seemingly random words strung together making no sense, always adjective, adjective or noun, noun. If you reported a lot of these bots, you'd notice the same words kept showing up.

Nowadays, I am bombarded with fundraiser requests and sometimes, they don't even bother to hide the fact that they're a bot. The avatar is default, the blog title is "untitled," and the blog name is a classic randomly-generated word salad.

However MOST of the requests I get come from at least semi-legit looking accounts. There are pictures, a name, a story. Never mind that I've gotten that message three times from different accounts.

Sometimes, they claim to be vetted, but the whole vetting system essentially adds up to "trust me bro." There is no way of guaranteeing that this account isn't just lying about being vetted, claiming to be vetted by a false person, or are using the identity of a real Palestinian to scam people.

Previously, I've seen a lot of people getting attacked for raising questions about these fundraisers and getting attacked for being racist or for harming Palestinian families in danger, like Tumblr isn't a website famous for its scams and the words "The Arkh Project" "All or Nothing" or "Miss Officer and Mr. Truffles" mean nothing to you.

I personally have been scammed by people claiming to be charities on Tumblr before, specifically, The Leelah Project which used the name of a trans teenager who died by suicide to swindle people out of their money.

Luckily, there are actual, respected charities out there you can give money to if you want to help the cause:

Palestinian Children's Relief Fund

Palestine Red Crescent Society

United Nations Relief Works Agency

Islamic Relief

World Central Kitchen

Médecins Sans Frontièrs

One of the hardest things to accept about the situation in Palestine is that realistically, there is very little that your average outsider can do to change it. However, these large, well-respected and trustworthy charities are out there doing the hard work to keep people alive, and should be where the donation money is going

These scam bots feed on people's naïvety and need to believe that they are making a difference, and even worse, feed on the fear that by ignoring them, it somehow makes you a racist doing direct harm to a refugee family, when in fact they are using the suffering of Palestinians to take away money from those in need.

As far as fundraisers that don't send out random asks for donations, I honestly don't know. You'll have to do the work yourself and approach with much caution.

Be careful out there.

[ms-demeanor]

Sometimes college professors like to hop on my posts lamenting the sorry state of syllabi these days and joke about how they haven't thought that far ahead in the course themselves, or talk about how they struggle to complete a schedule for their students.

With all due respect, that's your job. If you can't do your job, you should have a different job. If you need help, ask your colleagues or your department chair or *someone* because I know that professors aren't given a hell of a lot of education on how to educate, so you probably *need* help.

But every single time I make one of those posts I get anywhere from ten to thirty messages, replies, reblogs, and asks say "oh man, that's exactly why I had to drop out of school; I couldn't keep up with the assignments because I didn't know when they were due until the week they were due."

I have been a college student in three separate decades, and "not having a schedule of assignments in the syllabus" is new to my experience. That shit didn't fly in the 2000s or 2010s and I think it likely has to do with professors being overly reliant on apps.

AT A MINIMUM your syllabus should have:

Contact information (including preferred method of contact) for the professor

Office Hours

Grading Policy

Assignment schedule.

Your assignment schedule doesn't necessarily need to have the exact page numbers of every reading or a full assignment sheet for each project, but it should have things like:

December 1st - Major Project 3 second draft due December 9th - Quiz 10 December 12th - Major Project 3 final draft due December 15th - Final Exam

If you end up presenting a more thorough schedule with readings and homework later, that is acceptable to present a week or two into the semester but it is absolutely insane to me that students these days don't know what homework they're going to have to get done over Thanksgiving break during the first couple weeks of class.

If I had three professors at once who didn't give me a schedule, how on earth would I know if I was going to have to read three chapters of a novel, take a midterm and turn in two stats homework assignments, and complete a history research paper the same week that I'm planning to travel to see family? If I'm aware of this from the beginning of the semester I can make sure not to pick up extra shifts, or I can plan to leave a day later to accommodate the midterm, or I can start working on the paper early to complete it before the due date but if I don't know what's going to be due when, I'm going to have a big problem.

If you don't give your students a schedule you are communicating that you don't care about their schedule, and that you think it's their responsibility to contort their life (and their job, and their other classes) around your class, and honestly my advice to students in that situation is "drop in the first week and pick up another class". That's actually part of why I recommend signing up for one more class than you can really manage - if you get a professor whose class looks like it's going to be a disaster because they don't have a schedule, you can bail before the withdrawal period and get a refund for the class.

I'm only in one class this semester but the professor's response has fully dropped me into "Fuck it, I guess I'll fail" mode and I don't even know if I can pull myself out of my current D grade because I don't know how many assignments we have left in the semester.

This is a shitty way to run a class. If you can't do better than this, you shouldn't be running a class.

[awrkive]

[TEASER] CATCH YOUR WAVE (m) — JJK.

the last thing you expected when you strolled into your new school is to become the favorite project of the 5’11” tatted-up overly enthusiastic, golden-retriever-in-human-form PE teacher, jeon jungkook. he’s all goofy grins, bad math puns, and relentless charm, while you’re busy pretending you’re immune to his antics... spoiler alert: you’re not. and that infuriates you. 

alternatively, jungkook tries to prove that opposites don’t just attract — they collide. a classic case of one plus one equals: “oh, no. i like him.”

PAIRING jeon jungkook x (female) reader

GENRE r18+ (fuff, slight angst, mature content) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

WORD COUNT ~15k (still working around the final wc)

TEASER WORD COUNT 1.8k words

WARNINGS/MISC teachers!au, pe teacher!jk, math teacher!reader, seven!jungkook, himbo!jk, coworkers!au (works in the same school), oc gets kinda mean sometimes but jungkook likes it lmfao, extremely corny pick up lines.. he tries 💔 2000s romcoms references (sorry) warnings for this teaser: nothing major. just bad math puns delivered by himbo jungkook :')

NOTES inspired by the whole “can she gaf me💔” vibes in the seven mv (by jungkook) and ultimately the click five’s song, catch your wave (hence the title🥸 pls listen to the song for the whole vibes hehe <3). ive been wanting to write himbo jk for awhile bcs all my jks are like … smart so far so i thought wait we need to change that. gahhhh im so so freaking excited ive been thinking about writing this ever ever since i wrote that one himbo jk drabble 💃🏼

[ CYW MOODBOARD ] • [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

RELEASE DATE 2025, JUNE xx | 01:00 AM KOREAN STANDARD TIME (GMT+9)

They say life is a balance of good and bad days, and you’re not a pessimistic person, but sometimes enough is enough. How is your week already this bad when it’s just barely started? 

Sunday morning, when you picked up your laundry from the shop, you were too late to realize that you mixed not just one but two white underwear with the colored loads. You’d blame it on the fact that they were too tiny, too flimsy for you to notice. But you know you should’ve double-checked before putting them in the machine. And now you have lost two panties. And in this economy? That shit cost a ton. 

When Monday came and the head of the Math Department informed you there was a sudden shift in your schedule for the semester, it meant that instead of teaching three Algebra classes for tenth graders, you’re also teaching pre-Algebra for eighth graders, meaning you’re gonna have to cross the long walk from the high school building to the middle school one, the latter being all the way to the left wing, completely the opposite side of the right wing where the faculty room and your initial classes are. 

Today, you’ve woken up with your WiFi not connected to the internet (something you have to talk to your landlord about when you come back home) and just two minutes ago, you realized you forgot to take your coffee order with you from the cafe across your school building, the sad garlic bread you bought along with it staring right at you without its beloved beverage pair. 

Truthfully, it might be your last straw. How the hell is this happening to you out of all people? The semester is just starting, for god’s sake, and you’re already hanging on by a thread. 

You take a deep breath on your seat before standing up from your cubicle, heading to the coffee machine by the snack bar.

You hate the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep on stocking the pantry with, it’s too naturally sweet – and you don’t like your coffee with sugar. 

But you have no choice but to make do. The cafe’s too far out and your first class starts in about twenty minutes. 

“Good morning, Ms. Math Genius – ready to crunch some numbers today?” 

As if this day couldn’t get any worse, you shut your eyes close for a moment when you hear the familiar voice. 

You stir your coffee with downturned lips.

“Only if you promise to flex those brain muscles—” You say, turning to look to the side. Much to your expectation, it’s Jeon Jungkook, leaning casually against the wall with that usual faux suave he keeps on around you – which you can’t take seriously because his big doe eyes tell you a completely different story. He’s wearing some Nike dri fit shirt, one that’s too tight around his chest and accentuates a comparatively tiny waist that you have to force your eyes upwards. But as they do, they land on the biceps that are straining against the poor material. It wasn’t lost on you though that one second after, they’re suddenly flexing. You arch your brow as you glance a look on his face. “—as much as you flex those biceps.” 

Jungkook’s lips curl into a huge grin, expecting the jab. 

“You know it!” He chuckles, running his fingers through his bangs. “I’m all about solving problems, and I’d say my favorite equation is you plus me equals a perfect start to the day.” 

You fight a loud groan from escaping your lips as soon as he says that, giving him a certain look before shaking your head and going back to your coffee. 

But you should’ve known better by now, because Jungkook – aside from being a PE teacher extraordinaire and every student’s favorite at that, Thee Football Coach, 5’11” tatted brunette with a long, fluffy hair paired with an objectively, annoyingly attractive face – is persistent. 

Most especially when it comes to annoying you. 

A few steps, and then you feel him getting closer to you. 

“Did you know that—” 

You roll your eyes. That’s it. If it’s another one of his corny math pick-up lines again you swear to god— 

“Jungkook, you don’t have to keep doing this everyda—” 

“—we’re like parallel lines?” 

“What.”

“Did you know that we’re like parallel lines?” Jungkook repeats earnestly, just like he always does. When he’s up in your personal space like this, it’s easy to get a waft of his cologne – and your annoyance could’ve been justified if he smelled like shit but somehow, even though he looks like he just got back from a run judging by his running shoes and gym bag, he still smells… okay. 

Just okay. As in, you don’t care how good he smells like or how he smells at all.

You make sure to keep that thought at the back of your head. 

“No.” You say, hoping to dismiss the conversation right there as you pick up the cup of coffee from the machine, ready to turn on your heel, but then Jungkook laughs ever so slightly and gives your arm a barely-there poke.

“Come on, entertain me a little.” 

You squint your eyes at him. He challenges your stare with a growing smile on his face. Scoffing, you roll your eyes again before you put the paper cup back on the table. With a sigh, you cross your arms and look at Jungkook. For a split second, his eyes cast downwards to your chest level but he quickly snaps out of it. 

“Okay… we’re like parallel lines… why? Because we’ll never meet?” You say in response to his little request, keeping your tone impassive. 

Jungkook’s eyes slowly widen at your words, smile slowly dropping – as if the logic of your words have ruined one of his million pick-up lines again. 

“I– no! What? I meant, we’re like, always running to each other! Side by side. Parallel lines.”

“Okay… so still never meeting?” You ask impatiently, brows furrowing. 

Jungkook mirrors your confusion. Then, he raises a hand, one finger up. “One second. I’ll fix this–” he takes his phone out from his pocket, types on it quickly, lip jutting out as he reads whatever he’s looking up, and then, “Ohh, I might have meant asymptote lines. We’re like asymptote lines.” 

Your face contorts into even deeper confusion. Holy shit, you’re not dealing with this very early on in the morning, especially not after the circumstances of the past hours.

“Asymptote lines are more depressing than parallel lines if we’re talking metaphorically.” 

Jungkook squints his eyes at you, suspicious. “Are you sure?”

“I would hope I know my lines, Jungkook. I teach them everyday.” 

He laughs again, eyes crinkling at the corners cutely, and you hate how that tugs something at your heartstrings. 

You catch yourself right at that moment.

Jeon Jungkook is not cute. You keep in mind. He’s not cute. 

Jungkook thinks you’re so cute. Gorgeous, most of all, and unbelievably so. You and your signature furrowed brows and pink pouty lips.

As usual, you have your hair up in a clean bun today, and Jungkook can smell the lace of sweet vanilla from you as he takes a step closer to get a cup for himself. 

He loves the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep stocking the pantry with, it’s sweet as fuck. Just like how Jungkook likes his caffeine dose. Kind of like you, he thinks. 

Jungkook casts a quick glance at you again, can't really help himself when you're so pretty, although he makes sure to be subtle about it.

You’re wearing another one of your pencil skirts, one that he has to avoid staring at for longer than three seconds lest his mind takes him too far – but the upper view is even more of a torture, unfortunaly for him. Because as much as you wear the same outfit every single day and it should mean that Jungkook should get used to it by now, he can never be immune to your silk long sleeves, where you keep the top three buttons open – and as much as Jungkook tries to pry his gaze away from the exposed skin down from your neck, it’s like there’s a strange force in the universe that keeps him on it. Doesn’t really help that you like crossing your arms under your chest, too, making his mind run a mile per minute at the thoughts that form inside his head when a very apparent cleavage shows—

Alright. Damn. It’s like 8 am. 

And you were saying something about lines…

“Yeah? I hope you can teach me too, I need to—” 

“Goodbye, Mr. Jeon.” You cut him off before he can even finish his sentence, taking your coffee with you as you head to the direction of your cubicle. 

The nickname makes Jungkook’s lips curl up. He probably shouldn’t smile, given that you only ever call him that when you want to cut the conversation with him short. But he can’t help it, it sounds sweet coming from your pretty lips. 

In an attempt to not look like a fool, Jungkook bites his lip as he watches your disappearing figure, your heels clicking on the floor as you walk away. Your legs look so long in that grey pencil skirt, and it really should be criminal how you look like that even when you’re just showing your back. 

In his trance, he forgets about the brewing coffee in his cup and absentmindedly takes it out while the machine is still running, the hot liquid pouring from the nozzle quickly burning the skin on his finger. 

“Oh, shit!” He hisses, jumping from the shock, almost knocking his coffee out but thankfully he manages to catch it on time, just as when another member of the faculty walks by the snack bar. 

With an awkward smile, Jungkook raises a thumbs up to Mrs. Lee. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Lee. Looking rad as always.” He cheerfully greets, and Mrs. Lee’s confusion from seeing him fumble with his cup earlier quickly turns into a coo. 

“Oh, Mr. Jeon, you charming kid. I was just gonna get my cup of coffee.” She says, walking towards his direction. 

Jungkook adjusts the strap of his gym bag to his shoulder and takes a cup for Mrs. Lee with a grin, making her smile. 

She thanks him and with a playful salute, Jungkook goes toward the general direction of his cubicle, and because the PE department and Math department are just across from each other, he walks past you, typing something on your iPad before you look around and catch his gaze.

Jungkook automatically waves, smiling brightly, but you only frown, shutting your iPad close and ignoring him.

Amused, Jungkook tries to fight off a huge grin, taking a few long strides to get to his own cubicle. 

His day is already off to a good start.

© 𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐕𝐄 2025. all rights reserved. copying, editing, reposting and/or translating any of my works are not allowed.

[beomiracles]

𝓑𝐋𝓞𝓞𝐃𝓑𝓞𝓤𝐍𝐃

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Oh, you. So pretty, young and alive. Blood flows within your veins, carrying all the way to your beating heart, the one he can hear from miles away. Your breath hitches when his sharp fangs brush against your neck, your eyes flutter before they widen in fear. — God it drove him insane. ⸝⸝

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 2.5k ་༘࿐

𝓹airing vampire!taehyun x human!reader (f) 𝔀arnings kidnapping, imprisonment, blood drinking, heavy dub-con, reader suffers from depression, mentions of suicide, unprotected sex + creampie, no prep, death threats, reader is terrified for the half of it & taehyun is a cold heartless mf, he nearly kills reader, taehyun develops something that borders on lima syndrome toward the end.

#serene adds ✎.. light snack while I work on my larger projects :3 I'm seriously hoping to finish ttocbg soon, I just need to pull the motivation out of my ass and get to it >-<

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT, READ WARNINGS CAREFULLY.

It was supposed to be a one time thing. 

Yet Taehyun finds himself unable to let you go. He tells himself that it was only out of convenience. To keep a human at home, within the high walls of his estate, it was comfortable. It meant he didn’t have to leave and hunt as often. No, he could satiate himself for a moment, thanks to you. 

Oh, you. So pretty, young and alive. Blood flows within your veins, carrying all the way to your beating heart, the one he can hear from miles away. Your breath hitches when his sharp fangs brush against your neck, your eyes flutter before they widen in fear. — God it drove him insane. 

The first time Taehyun had laid his crimson eyes upon you, he knew that one taste wouldn’t be enough. He would need you for as long as he could. Nothing could quite still his desires like you, and nothing could fuel them the same. — So he kept you. He even tended to your human needs. Taehyun thinks they make you worthless. Unable to suffice a whole day without sleep, needing three meals a day. Not to mention the sunlight you so begged of him to see. 

Humans were high maintenance, he quickly learned that. Still, he was willing to accept those terms, if it meant another taste of you. But Taehyun wasn’t stupid, he knew that he couldn’t just take and take, then there would be nothing left of you. — He would wait. Feed. Then wait again. The wait was damn near agonizing. Your scent was everywhere, clinging to the walls of his home and sinking into the cracks of his floors. 

Sometimes he would leave for days, when the urge to tear you apart completely became too strong. You never questioned his absence, in fact, Taehyun sometimes wondered if you perhaps even enjoyed it. Though he didn’t care for your feelings toward him. They were unimportant. 

You were intimate every now and again. It was unexplainable really. Sometimes he felt like it, others he didn’t. You were the same. You usually cried, glistening tears coating your soft and pretty face, your broken sobs ringing out into the quiet bedroom air. Other times you remained silent, save for the occasional gasp to slip between your lips. — You always thanked him afterward.

Thanked him for sparing your life. 

Your gratitude confused him. Taehyun couldn’t quite understand what about your situation was so appealing. It wasn’t like he was going to kill you. He wanted no, needed you alive. Did you not understand that? Still you begged and pleaded for your life during your first three months there, for days on end you fell to your knees in prayer before him. 

It had been well over a year now, and that had stopped. — But that wasn’t all. Something was different, you were different. Fear had abandoned you completely, and now lingered nothing but an empty shell of the human he’d taken all those months ago. You hardly leave your room, not that you did before, but now you’re even refusing meals. 

Depression, that’s what he thinks it’s called. A state which humans can undergo when they’re not right in the head, or something like that. Taehyun didn’t bother to read up on the matter any further. All he knows is that you’re unhappy. Your skin is slowly turning a greyish hue and your eyes, once filled with terror, now look lifeless. You looked like him. 

It makes your blood taste bitter. And Taehyun hates it. 

He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what will make you happy again. Letting you go was not an option. He wouldn’t trade his source of fulfillment for a mere human’s sake. But he needed to do something about it. — He tries letting you outside more. He walks through his large gardens, eyes trailing your tired figure as you brush past the many blooming flowers. You no longer appeared skittish around him, merely accepting of his ever looming presence. 

When the extra sunlight proves futile he tries new foods, bringing you a greater variety to choose from. But you merely shrug and grab the first thing you see, shoving it in your mouth as you struggle to swallow. It was as if your whole body rejected life itself. — Taehyun grew all the more restless. He even refrained from feeding off of you, allowing you to save your precious blood for a full two months, thinking that it would make a difference. 

You did not get better, and he got worse. 

He’s had enough. There must be something, something he can do to force any other emotion out of you. He doesn’t even dare leave his home for more than a few hours, afraid that you will find a way to end your pathetic human life in his absence. He couldn’t have that. 

So one night, he finds himself stalking up the stairs with the determined and fast strides. His fingers clenched into fists by his sides, his red eyes locked on the door by the far end of the hall. When he reaches it he stops, taking a slow and deliberate breath. It wasn’t like he even needed the air, but the sensation was calming. He exhales. Then he quietly slips inside your room. 

It’s dark, the only source of light is the moon, resting high above the clouds as its glow caresses your bare skin. You slept a lot more these days, and tonight was no different. But Taehyun had held back for long enough, he’d tried to accommodate your every need, he’d been walking on eggshells for over two months and deprived himself of the only thing that kept him on this earth, your blood. 

His cold breath ghosts over your cheek, his fingers light as they trace your arms. He turns you slowly, making you lay flat on your back as he immediately leans down to nose along the juncture of your neck. He’d caught the slow and steady sounds of your heartbeat before he even decided to go upstairs, and now that he was this close, the sound was near pounding in his ears. Blood rushes beneath your warm skin, and Taehyun licks his sharp fangs slowly as he eyes your perfectly healed skin. God it had been ages. 

You stir only when his lips press against your neck. The soft whine rolling off your tongue makes his ears perk and Taehyun can’t contain his smirk as his fangs graze along your supple flesh. Confused and still laced with sleep, you squirm beneath him as you attempt to get away, but Taehyun's grip on your arms is firm as he locks you in place. 

Quickly you realize what was going on, and your body goes limp in his grasp, as if someone had turned on autopilot. For some reason, it makes him waver. A grimace of disgust flickers across his face. This isn’t how he wants it. It’s no fun when you act like this. — His hands are rough as he yanks you off the mattress, bringing you to his face by the collar of your shirt. 

“Do you want to die, is that it?” He snarls, his nose pressed against yours when he speaks. To his surprise, he finds you staring back at him with wide and shocked eyes. He can hear the way your heart rate picks up, and he can feel the rush of blood as adrenaline courses through you. — “I’ll fucking kill you then, how about that?” His sharp fangs glint under the moonlight and Taehyun watches as your expression morphs from confusion to fear. 

Oh how he’d missed that look on you. 

Fervently you shake your head, spluttering out a shaky “N-No..!” Taehyun huffs, shoving you back against the mattress with a harsh push. His tongue is hot against your skin when he drags it across your jaw, and it pleases him when your breath hitches in your throat, just like it did before. He takes one final moment to inhale your scent, to allow himself to get intoxicated by it. 

“I’m going to make it quick for you”, he murmurs as he presses a kiss to the juncture of your neck, sharp teeth poking at your flesh. “A quick and painless death.” It’s the last thing he says before he sinks his fangs into you, relishing in the loud cry you emit as you shake your head. — Fuck, he’d forgotten just how wonderful you tasted, how delirious your blood made him feel. 

Your nails claw at every part of him you can access, the terror evident in the way you try to pry him off. Taehyun doesn’t pay you any mind, all he can think of is how he needs more, more, more, more. He swallows mouthful after mouthful of your blood. And as the warm liquid slips down his throat, he can feel your resistance gradually fade as he quickly drains you of life. 

You’re reduced to a spluttering mess, tears staining your face and your bottom lip trembling as your eyes remain dazed and filled with horror. When you’re on the brink of going unconscious, just barely holding onto yourself, that’s when he pulls back. — Taehyun wasn’t going to kill you. Fuck, you taste far too good for that. But you didn’t have to know that. 

The lower half of his face is coated in a thick layer of your blood and he licks his lips slowly as he watches your bleary eyes search for him. All he meant to do was scare you, and god had it worked. Finally, your face was painted with emotion, you were finally alive again. Oh how he couldn’t be happier. 

“W-Why..?” You choke the word out, your breaths coming out jagged as you blink. He’s not hearing you, his gaze is trained on the way your lips move when you speak, and he’s completely entranced by them. — He leans in to kiss you, something he’d never done before. He would always be too focused on the way you tasted, on the way your tight and warm cunt wrapped around his cock to even think about the act of kissing. 

Tonight was different. He needs to taste your fear, in every way he can. 

He feels you cringe as his bloody tongue slips inside your mouth, he doesn’t care. Hands groping at your waist, he shoves your squirming body back against the mattress. His fingers hook around your sleep-shorts, tugging them down your thighs along with your panties. He’d gotten you an entire closet of assortments to choose from, yet you always picked the most mundane ones. It didn’t matter. 

You yelp against his lips when he suddenly aligns his hard cock with your unprepared cunt. Taehyun breaks the kiss for a brief moment, leaning back to admire your terrified expression. Blood had smeared all over your own face, your blood, he twitches at the sight. — You still think he’s going to kill you. It’s wonderful. He can’t help the sinister smirk that pulls across his lips before he reconnects them with yours. 

He slides inside of you with surprisingly little restraint, his large hand on your hip as he holds you down. The choked sob you emit vibrates on his tongue and Taehyun groans as he feels you clench around him. It was better than ever before. — His gaze drifts to the punctures on your neck, fresh blood spilled from their cuts and he felt himself grow dizzy. 

Taehyun rips himself from the kiss, leaving you gasping for air as you cling onto his shoulders. He’s quick to lap at the crimson liquid, moaning at the taste before he re-opens your barely healed wounds. You whimper when his fangs sink into you a second time that night, it was something he’d never done before. Even Taehyun knows that he should stop by now, that if he takes as much as another drop you might not make it until the following morning. 

But you just taste so good. 

His eyes flutter, hands gripping at your waist with a force that could easily break bones. His hips have set a slow and deliberate pace as he takes his time fucking your tight cunt, making sure that every stroke left your thighs spasming. 

Small, almost inaudible sobs pass your lips and Taehyun withdraws from your neck with a grunt. Fuck he was beginning to grow really tired of you crying. — His rough palm feels gigantic against your soft and wet cheek. The surprisingly intimate movement makes your breath hitch and causes your sob to catch in your throat. 

“I’m not going to kill you”, he huffs. Your already terrified eyes widen tenfold, and Taehyun resist the urge to just finish you off right there, you looked fucking delectable. But he holds off, his free hand moving from your hip and between your legs. 

Taehyun rarely touched you, if ever. He would have you prepare yourself while he fed, it was a lot more convenient that way. Tonight he felt like doing it himself, for reasons he could not explain. — His thumb brushes against your clit, and his eyebrows raise when he feels your cunt clench around him deliciously. A soft moan falls from your lips, the sound is a surprisingly nice change. Taehyun needs to hear it again. 

He touches you with a newfound eagerness, his mouth finding yours as they blend together in a mix of blood and saliva. You tremble beneath him, your hands grabbing at his shoulders, clinging onto him like there was no tomorrow. — You cum around his cock a mere minute later, Taehyun can’t remember if he’d ever brought you to an orgasm before, he doesn’t think so. The way you squeeze around him is far from familiar, yet it makes his head spin. 

His hips snap against yours as he picks up his pace, his brows furrowing when he feels his throbbing cock twitch inside your warm cunt. All of you were so blissfully alive at this moment. Hell, even Taehyun felt alive like this, so closely connected to you, in a way he long ago swore he would never be with a mere human being. 

You moan when he finishes inside of you, you had never done that before. Taehyun finds that he enjoys it. The taste of you linger on his tongue, and the scent of your arousal infiltrates his nostrils, it was far more prominent this time. — Dark crimson eyes find your wide ones when he peers down at you. For the first time, you’re watching him almost expectantly. 

“Thank you.” 

There it is again, your everlasting gratitude toward him. He still cannot understand it, but he figures it doesn’t matter as long as you’re willing to live. 

Willing to live for him. 

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[cherryheairt]

Pearls

Cregan Stark x named!fem!reader no desc (gif just for vibes)

18+!

my first smut writing and it was an intrusive thought that hasn't left my mind all week I need to get it out NEOW. I don't know my audience for this but please let it not be too niche idk 😭

Lately, Cregan had been absent from their marital chambers until the darkest parts of the night. Work had been keeping him apart from his Lady wife for far too long in her eyes. One night was almost unbearable, let alone weeks of it. Sometimes, he fell asleep in his study after pouring over scrolls and plans for hours.

It was hard to sleep without her husband, she found. After their marriage less than a year ago, they had shared the same bed every night after. Their relationship was most likely the healthiest in all of Westeros. Always in sync and filling what the other lacked. Whereas Vanya was compassionate and kind, Cregan was stern and unyielding. Together, they led the North as any Stark Lord and Lady should: In harmony.

Vanya had taken care of her tasks well, managing what Cregan could not in his time of occupation. Winter was upon them, cold and unrelenting. Vanya's first as Lady Stark, and one she intended to run smoothly to set a precedent for her live's rule.

However, even though she kept herself busy til late evening, she found her needs growing by the day. Usually, her and Cregan found themselves enjoying many rounds of pleasure before they tucked in for the night. Now, since he'd been busy, they hadn't even kissed in weeks. Simple glances at him or the feel of his arm's warmth draping over her in the early hours of the morning made her almost feral with want for her husband.

But he was always gone when she awoke. She was left to get ready for her own day of duties completely alone, longing for her husband's company. An emptiness struck her heart—one that she was determined to fill.

She got to work after her day was through. Knowing Cregan wouldn't join her til long after she was finished, she enjoyed the secretive project in the privacy of the chambers.

Pearls.

Lace.

Thread.

The only three things she dained to need for her little excursion. She worked quickly and nimbly, a nervous fluttering feeling drifting in her belly and staying there until she had finished. Quickly, she put the garment on. Satisfied by the mirror's view, Vanya giddily got dressed into her sheer white night shift.

She settled into bed, only being able to fall into a light sleep in her excitement.

It was not too long before she heard the quiet creeking of the door open and close, Cregan always making a point to enter and exit their chambers considerately. With a heavy sigh, she heard him drop his clothes and boots to the floor.

Weight dropped onto his side of the bed, and a familiar arm draped itself around her waist. Cregan sighed once more into the back of her neck, breathing in the comforting scent of his wife.

Vanya reached up gingerly, lacing her fingers with his. "Husband," she whispered, gauging his mood.

"Wife," he muttered back, thumbing absentmindedly at the space below her belly button.

"How was your day? You've been kept busy, far from the warmth of our hearth." She brought his hand up to kiss gently, starting to wake herself fully.

Cregan hummed guiltily, nodding into her smooth skin. "Tiring. I promise, once Winter starts to come to a close, I will make up every minute I spent leaving my dear wife waiting." The words were muttered slowly into the shell of her ear.

Vanya only huffed a laugh, shaking her head though he couldn't see her face. "There is time now, isn't there?" She asked coyly.

When she recieved no answer, "Cregan?"

None again, but the soft breaths coming from his nose. Turning to face him, she was met with closed eyes and a content slight smile gracing her husband's handsome features. She lay her head back on her pillow, sighing in accepted defeat. Brushing a piece of hair back behind his ear, she kissed his forehead, "goodnight, my husband."

The next day was the same as the last ones. She woke up alone again, only this time Vanya was much more determined to stoke the fire she knew Cregan had. Keeping the garment on underneath her day dress, a light powder blue number with tapered sleeves, she made her way about the Great Keep conducting her business.

Her mind was heavy with thoughts of Cregan, hunched over his desk and stressfully raking his hands through his dusty brown threads. Vanya finished her duties early, freshening up in their chambers before she returned outside of them. Hurriedly, she changed into a light blue shift, similar in color to the one she had worn out. She dabbled some sandalwood perfume oil on her neck and wrists, fixing her hair quickly before making her way towards Cregan's solar. The windows she passed by showed the fresh night sky and the dotted stars along it, the perfect time for any stray servants or maids to be tucking away for their own leisure time before bed.

Vanya took a short breath in before opening his solar door, spotting the exact visage she had imagined the whole day. Dressed in only his grey tunic visible above the pine desk, he had clearly discarded his pelts and leathers for the day, seeing as he had not even left the room once. The hearth was dying, only embers remaining. Clearly, he had wished not to be disturbed by any servants throughout the day.

He was still engrossed in writing a scroll when Vanya approached his desk. A tap on the spot above his elbow had jerked his head up, a shocked look in his eyes as he looked up at his wife. "Vanya, you should be abed already—" he said quickly.

Vanya shook her head, sitting herself on the edge of his table stubbornly. "Couldn't sleep." She lied. "I missed by husband's warmth next to me."

His lips pursed as he glanced between her and his work. "I'm sorry, I will finish as fast as I can. Wait for me?" He offered, though they both knew if she left now, he would only be swallowed up by his duties once more.

Vanya placed a hand on his cheek, running her thumb over the dark undereyes that deepened his tired expression. "I wish to stay with my husband, if it please him."

Cregan's eyes softened, nodding his agreement. He scooted his chair outwards, leaving ample room for Vanya to sit between him and the desk. Instead of sitting across his lap, as she normally would when accompanying him in his seat, she lifted her skirts to her thighs and sat facing him.

He tilted his head slightly, instinctively placing his hands over her hips to adjust her. "Won't this be uncomfortable for you?" He asked, though a faint blush dusted his cheeks and ears at the position.

Vanya shook her head, choosing to sit herself closer and bury her face into his neck. "Go on, don't let me interrupt." She said innocently, earning a glance from her husband before he followed her instructions and started back on his writing.

After a few minutes, she felt enough time had passed to make him inconspicuous of her actions. Slowly, she pressed herself closer to his chest, squishing her breasts again his own thinly clothed skin. She felt him pause and take a deep breath in before continuing, and had to bit her lip to prevent herself from smiling into his tunic.

A few more minutes passed, though she grew more impaitient with every second his hands were not on her. Slowly, she pressed her pelvis into his, revealing the hardened texture of the garment to him.

This time, he paused fully, confused. Setting the quill down, he leaned back. "What is that?" He asked, placing a hand on her hip again.

Vanya only smiled, grabbing his other hand and guiding it ever so slowly down to nethermost regions. "Feel for yourself." She cooed as she led a finger to run over the string.

"What—Pearls?" He asked, brows knitting together curiously.

Vanya nodded at the question.

"Where did you find such a thing?" Cregan asked, though did not recind his hand.

"I made them myself. Don't worry, no loud-mouthed seamstress will know of Lady Stark vying for some promiscuous garments."

"And they are..." He trailed off, swallowing heavily at the indication. Indeed, he shared in his logging and need throughout these weeks apart.

"For you, dear husband." Vanya purred, nipping softly at his bottom lip and pulling away just as fast.

Immediately, he lifted her from his lap and onto the desk, tossing aside his papers to the floor. He lifted her skirts further, bunching them carelessly at her hips as he tugged her legs to wrap around his waist.

Pinching the strand of pearls between his index and thumb, his eyes stayed glued to the glistening white pearls lying between her lower folds. Vanya felt herself throb with need at the lustful glare he held, leaning back on her hands to watch only his face.

Softly, he lifted the string to make it press against her own sensitive pearl. At her slight gasp and squirm, Cregan knelt to his knees faster than he ever had before. Glancing up at his wife's face, he silently asked for permission.

After she nodded, he was quick to move. The pearls, covered in her own essence, were moved slightly to the side as Cregan pressed his face to her core. Vanya threw her head back at the sudden stimulation, Cregan's tongue wildly moving from place to place as if he couldn't find a favorite spot.

Up and down, a solid stripe from her hole to sensitive bud. Circling the pearl with an eager swipe of his tongue, he moved down just as quickly as he began. With desperate, shallow thrusts into her clenching hole, Cregan tried and failed to press himself closer, already having no air to breathe with the space between them being nonexistent. Not that he minded, of course.

With a firm tug at his loose hair, Cregan turned his head with a heaving chest to face his wife. Looking offended at the separation, his fingers clenched at the soft parts of her upper thighs, ready to dig his face back to its spot.

Vanya whined out for him, shaking her head. She closed her thighs over his head, urging him up to meet her lips. She tasted herself on his tongue, enjoying the bittersweet slick with a deep moan. Cregan pressed himself closer, moving her by her waist to seat her on the edge of the table.

"I need you, Cregan, please." She pleaded, hards still carding through his hair to ground herself. She was so empty, only able to be whole again with Cregan's help.

At her plea, Cregan couldn't help but oblige, he unlaced his breeches urgently, allowing Vanya to strip him of his tunic and run her hands over the lean muscle of his chest and back.

He stroked himself a few times, smearing himself at her entrance. They both groaned in unision as his tip hit the string of pearls. They pressed to her swollen bud, making her jerk her hips up closer to meet his own. He slid the string to the side to make room for his length, sinking into the wet heat with a soft groan.

Her head found his shoulder again as she clawed at his shoulders, mewling. He mimicked her action, hands gripping onto her hips as he bit at her neck and collarbone sharply to conceal his moans.

His thrusts were fast and desperate, both wasting no time with soft touches and sweet nothings. That could be done later, after they were both saited and content in their own bed.

She panted heavily, reaching down between them both to rub loose circles around her pearl. He groaned as she tightened, knowing what it meant.

"Where?" He grunted out, kissing at her shoulder as a wordless apology to the angry red bite lying there.

"Inside," she gasped, tightening her legs around his waist to keep him closer.

It was not long before they both reached their peaks. Cregan continued his ministrations, thrusts becoming slower and less powerful as he winded down from his high. He stayed inside her even after they both came down, the warmth too good to pass up in the cold solar. The embers had long disappeared, leaving only the cobble to block out Winterfell's chill.

Vanya couldn't mind, either, enjoying the fullness it brought even in the sensitive state.

"What brought this on?" Cregan asked after a few long moments passed. He soothed over the marks on her hips, sure that bruises would appear in the morrow.

She hummed, kissing the space connecting his ear and jawline affectionately. "Is it too obscure for a wife to want for her husband?"

Cregan raised a brow, "of course not. I have missed you, too." He said, bringing her lips to his to kiss.

She deepened it, dragging him back to her after he pulled away. Tilting her head, she shivered at the brush of his tongue over her own, the texture a familiar delight.

Cregan pulled back after a while, a heavy look in his steel eyes. "I don't think we'll get much sleep tonight if you keep doing that."

She laughed, "I am far from tired, my Lord."

He growled playfully, bringing her from the table and carrying her in his arms. Cregan chuckled at her gasp, starting his journey to their chambers.

"Someone might see us!" She squealed into his neck, hiding her face uselessly.

"Let them. The whole of Westeros will know how my wife is the most beautiful in the Seven Kingdoms." He said, pinching her bottom with a cheeky smirk.

His solar was left open behind them, work long forgotten for the next day. Tonight was for Lord Stark and his Lady Wife.

🗡

Get yourself a munch like Cregan Stark

[psychemochanight]

Dick being neurodivergent, because why not? (Am I projecting myself onto my hyperfixation character of the moment? Absolutely).

Dick finds the weirdest possible positions to be absolutely comfortable. We already talked about how he likes to hang upside down, but besides that, he's always sitting in a strange way.

Bruce doesn't have any opinion on any of this, but sometimes wonders if Dick is trying to give himself some kind of cramp. The others just wonder if the boy has actual bones.

Bruce thought Dick couldn't be a picky eater, but he's totally wrong. Alfred taught Dick to cook because he knows that if he depended solely on food prepared by other people, the boy would starve. (Worse is when they discover that if they don't remind him, this guy won't eat at all. He just totally forgets that humans need food).

He also taught him other things for sensory issues that he doesn't want to acknowledge. (Yes, there are ways to keep his sheets soft enough, to prevent his shirts from getting lint, even cleaning the slab so it doesn't have weird textures).

Bruce always purposely gave him more work than he needed to do, otherwise he would never get the boy to concentrate. Nothing too difficult, he didn't want to overburden him yet, but seriously, even if he liked math, he would never sit down for more than 10 minutes to do his homework. Organizing his tasks didn't always work, but a deadline? It was his best strategy. Even out of ten minutes, eight were just him thinking about something else and only two to complete the job, he would complete it anyway.

(He never gives him the same task twice in a row. God knows that will never be complete. Have you seen how many jobs this man has? He can't stay in one place for more than a few months).

His thoughts also jump from one situation to another as much as he jumps on rooftops when he is on patrol. Bruce never understands his line of thinking, but it is extremely helpful in solving cases.

Despite appearing extroverted, Dick was still more of an ambivert, sometimes even seeming more introverted, he's just not that shy. His social battery runs out pretty quickly, even if he pretends it doesn't. He still needs time to himself in order to move on, and as a child his best way of pointing this out to Bruce was by hiding under tables in a dark place, or instead, climb to the highest places, farthest from people. Bruce learned that although Dick was used to the noise of people, he was used to seeing it from above, not in the middle of the crowd.

It's not that he's non-verbal, but there are still days where just talking is a no-no. As a child he had better control, but as an adult he just doesn't want to talk, and he's not going to talk.

Weighted blankets? Yes please. Noise cancelling headphones? He would love to, but he is too paranoid to completely isolate himself from his surroundings. (If his friends notice that his leg is bouncing more than usual, they assure him that they will keep watch and ask him to wear his headphones for a while, if they need to talk to him they use sign language).

He also has blackout curtains. And we all know his comfort object is a stuffed elephant, come on. (I love the fandom for this idea. Give the guy his stuffed elephant, give him Zitka.)

Yes, Dick, people have hobbies, but normal people don't change hobbies after mastering them once, much less change them every three days. No, gymnastics is no longer your hobby at this point, it's literally your life.

A special interest falls short when you spent a week without sleep to continue researching your new hyperfixation.

[supermenz]

one

summary: One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do; two can be as bad as one, it's the loneliest number since the number one. Or: you're two years old when you lose your parents. Your brother, a kid himself, is unable to give you the love you deserve, and you end up at twenty being as burn out as only a Gotham University student can be. So, what do you do? Change scenery, of course.

pairing(s): clark kent x wayne!reader, bruce wayne x sister!reader, eventual platonic batfam x reader (no use of y/n)

warnings: genius kid trope, kinda doomed siblings, language, there are reference to what happens in "the batman" but there will be a merge of both comics and films, written with david!superman in mind cuz he's my pookie 😞, bruce is so pathetic i love him sm

word count: 2.2k

author's note: my first ever fanfic for the dc universe!! constructive criticism is welcomed as english is not my first language,

next | series masterlist

Gotham has left you feeling more claustrophobic in the last few months than it did all your life. 

Maybe it’s because you’re seeing your brother slip into his work — aka beating criminals in the night as a hobby — more and more, or maybe it’s just your brain playing tricks on you. It’s probably the latter. 

You’ve never been good with emotions — it comes with being a Wayne, and surely, having your parents die before you were three didn’t help your situation. Bruce spending most of your childhood abroad with barely any contact with you also probably didn’t help either. 

“But I’m here now,” he had said once, “Am I not?”

He is, but even if you love him with all your heart, sometimes you think that you’re more like colleagues rather than siblings. Your bond is strained, with him being so closed-off and spending most of his free time cosplaying as a bat, and you having just entered your twenties, trying to get your second degree in biology after an early graduation and an even earlier PhD in engineering. And since his first big case four years ago, neither of you has been the same. 

Your relationship has never been easy. The flood and the Riddler’s case basically forced you to trauma bond over what you both had experienced, as surely no therapist would’ve wanted to hear about all the horrors that you two experienced, even for all the money in the world. Besides, it’s not like Bruce could just enter a therapist’s office and tell them that he’s the fucking Batman. 

As of now, you tend to have your… ups and downs. Both prefer to just hide behind paperwork, projects, cases or research rather than just talk some things out. Because yes, Bruce’s your brother, but that doesn’t mean he’s easy to love. There are some days where he seems to be barely able to talk to you, others where you know he just wants to scream at you for whatever reason, others where… others where you think he might just crumble at your feet and start crying. 

You don’t have a lot in common. Maybe that’s why he manages to stay in Gotham even after all that’s happened — combined with the fact that he’s spent ten years or so abroad. Maybe you need that, too. 

“I’m thinking of moving out,” you tell him during one of your rare dinners together. You have already talked about your plan to Alfred, who has shown his support towards the idea and urged you to get out of Gotham as soon as you could, but you also wanted to tell Bruce — just to be honest with him. 

Yes, he left you to study abroad all those years ago without any kind of goodbye or anything, but you have no intention of leaving him behind like he did to you — you may be grown adults now, but that doesn’t mean that being left behind doesn’t exist anymore. You doubt Bruce would ever feel left behind by you, of all people, but still. “Found a faculty in Metropolis that will be able to transfer all my credits and studies and a nice flat downtown near the Wayne Enterprises’ site there. I think I need a breath of fresh air– I need to go somewhere where the sun actually shines and not everyone has hidden agendas.”

You’ve heard good things about Metropolis, and you think that the Martha Wayne Foundation could be expanded a bit more — somewhere far from Gotham, where surely there are other orphanages, other people in need that could use some help. “I could handle Wayne Enterprise’s gestion and settle our matters there while continuing my studies in a more… calm environment.” calm is a big word for a metropolitan city as big and populated as Metropolis, but every city is calm in contrast to Gotham.  

Your brother doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you, wide-eyed, fork still raised to eat the potatoes Alfred cooked, his face blank. Is he having a heart attack? You didn’t think that you moving out would’ve been such horrendous news for him. Yes, even if you are not that close he’s still very protective, but he went to live abroad at ten. You’re twenty and you’re just… moving to Delaware. It’s not like you’re going to the fucking Himalaya mountains as he did. 

(Meanwhile, Bruce is spiraling. He wonders when the hell did his little sister grow up, how it can be that she isn’t the little girl he used to sway around anymore, and why would she ever want to move out. Is it because of him? Did something happen? 

Isn’t Metropolis in another state? Is he so tremendous that you have to move states in hopes to forget about him? Is he too overbearing? He thought he had always given you enough space to do your own thing–)

Instead of saying all of the things he’s thinking, he tries to muster up a smile, even if it comes out as a grimace. “Alright.” 

He nearly jumps out of his seat when you beam at him — is he really that obnoxious that you can’t wait to move out and have him out of your life? “Oh, I’m happy that you’re taking it well! I was afraid you’d freak out.” you get up from your seat and move over to hug him, and he chuckles nervously. “Why would I? You’re an adult, you can do what you want.” 

(What do you mean?!, his conscience screams in his head, She isn’t even twelve! Just yesterday she was talking about going to the homecoming dance with her friends–

But time has passed, and even if Bruce feels that it was particularly hard on him, he didn’t think it’d affect you too, somehow. It’s weird acknowledging something’s — someone’s — changes in the years in… so little. He had gotten so used to you being his little sister that he didn’t even think about you becoming a full on woman. He still remembers the pink bundle of blankets your parents had given him that day at the hospital, telling him to be careful with her, she’s your little sister.

When have you grown this much? Where did the time go? He swears it was just yesterday when you were admitted to Gotham University.) 

“But… a flat? Are you sure you’ll be comfortable there? It’s not exactly as big as a manor.” 

You avoid his gaze, scratching the back of your head. “Yeah, about that…”

He raises an eyebrow, “Let me guess, you bought the whole building?” 

You snap your fingers, “They don’t call you the greatest detective for nothing!” you sit back down, cutting the meat on your plate, “I plan on making the floors I won’t live in into a laboratory of sort– almost like the Batcave, y’know, so I can continue working on the models I designed undisturbed.”

When Bruce had started his crusade as Batman, you had just gotten your bachelor’s degree in engineering, and were working on your master’s degree. You had basically given him the head-start, creating the software of the Batcomputer (or of the computer, as he calls it), designed and adapted a sport’s car to the Batmobile (just call it the car, Bruce always insists) and basically modified and created every single one of the gadgets and systems he uses. 

You just hope he won’t let the Batcomputer get hacked as soon as you land in Metropolis — you spent weeks programming her and years perfecting her system. You spent so much time on her, she might as well be your firstborn by now. 

“I’ll always be a call away,” you murmur when your brother’s eyes get a little dazy, unfocused– like he’s in another world, always thinking about the worst that could happen. “You know that, right?”

Bruce blinks. “Yeah. Yeah, I– I know that.” 

(He isn't sure about that.) 

You pat his hand, mustering a smile. "Maybe you should take a break, too. Why don't you book a vacation in, let's say... the Bahamas? Just to get a bit tanned and remember what the sun actually looks like."

He shakes his head. "Can't. Batman doesn't go on vacation."

You raise an eyebrow, sighing in defeat. "Well, I'm sure the GCPD could handle Gotham for a few days, but do as you like."

Your arrival in Metropolis is, of course, followed by an unhinged swarm of journalists and press that surround you as soon as you land.

You can already see the headlines — THE PRINCESS OF GOTHAM NOW IN METROPOLIS or some other corny predictable shit like that — as they shove their cameras in your face, screaming and trying to grab you, as your bodyguards try to contain them. You're much calmer than they are, having already endured years and years of invasive journalists.

“Miss Wayne, would you care to tell us the reason for this abrupt change in scenery?”

“Has your move got anything to do with your relationship with your brother?”

“Miss Wayne, look here! A smile for the front page–”

“Miss Wayne, why Metropolis, of all places?”

“Miss Wayne, a word for the Daily Planet?”

The guy for the Daily Planet catches your attention– he seems far too nice and isn’t elbowing anyone; he must be either new at the job or is too nice for it. He’s got a mop of curly, black hair atop his head, thick glasses perched on his nose, baby blue eyes behind them. His posture is a little crooked — he’s getting squeezed by reporters on both of his sides — but, even as disheveled as he is, you notice a thing. 

Ohh, he’s pretty. Like, jaw-dropping pretty, the kind of pretty that makes you want to bite his cheek and never let go for the rest of your life. 

You stop in your tracks, lifting your sunglasses to your head, bodyguards panicking at the swarm of journalists that suddenly all point to one direction; you reach for the pocket of your jeans and take out a business card that you pat on the pretty reporter’s chest. “Another time, pretty boy,” you promise as he takes the card, his fingers brushing yours, the other journalists speechless around you. “I’m kinda busy right now.” 

You don’t stay long enough to see him blush and hold the business card tight in his palm so that the other reporters don’t snatch it out of his grip — the bodyguards urge you forward, towards the SUV with obscured windows that is waiting for you right in front of the arrivals’ exit of the airport. One of them opens the door for you, and you don’t hesitate to get inside, the car speeding off as soon as everyone’s inside. 

“Never seen anything like this,” one of the men mutters.

You shrug, “I’ve had worse.” 

The ride to your building is short, mostly because it’s late in the evening and there aren’t many people still around. You leave a generous tip to both the bodyguards and the driver, thanking them but assuring them that you can walk alone the thirty steps that separate you from the entrance to what’ll be your home for the foreseeable future. They help you take out your trolley and duffle bag, which you swing over your shoulder right after taking the keys of the building out. 

You open the front door, carefully closing it behind you, taking the elevator right in front of it. You press the number thirty out of thirty-four, which turns green with a ding, and wait for the doors to open back up. And once they do, you’re not disappointed. 

The loft is arranged just like how you asked the movers to — it would’ve been hard not to, as you sent them the 3D interior design plan you had made, but still. You’ve been raised with the idea that if you want something done well, you have to do it yourself, so you’re pretty happy about how it turned out. 

Still, something’s missing. 

You check around the loft for any pieces of missing furniture or something like that, not finding anything. You even go back to the 3D model to make sure that everything got here safe and sound, only to find that yes, everything is in the colour you ordered and exactly in the place you asked for it to be. 

You sit on the U-shaped couch that sits right in front of the giant windows that let on the skyline of Metropolis, eyebrows knit in deep thought. The house is nice — for fuck’s sake, you bought a whole building just for you and your projects — but it’s weird not having anyone else around. There’s no Alfred to welcome you, no half-asleep Bruce roaming without an idea of where he is, no squeaking and creaking of the floor when you walk. 

You sigh. “Maybe I should get a cat.” 

[mariasont]

I'm so glad you love writing for bimbo reader x Hotch because i love READING them so much 💕

What about reader getting jealous a witness or unsub is flirting with Hotch? Kinda like how the prostitutes are always flirting with Reid but this time it's Hotch getting all awkward and reader misreading it and thinking he's interested back?

Love your stuff!

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY - A.H

a/n: hi so im so glad you love bimbo reader 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 that literally makes me so happy, thank you sm for requesting i hope you like that <3

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: reader being jelly, kind of out of character for bimbo reader honestly, she’s also a little flustered in this fic which also feels out of character but i kind of like it idk lmk what yall think

wc: 1.2k

The space between her hand and Hotch's bicep was dangerously narrow. She was saying something--something that was way flirtier than the situation required. Matter of fact than any situation required. Your pink nails, the same shade as your favorite bubblegum lip gloss, dug into the flesh of your palm, your lips forming a tight line as you fought the green jealousy that bubbled up like champagne.

It was fine. You were fine.

Until it wasn't.

She flashed a smile at Hotch, one that was undeniably pretty which only served to make your blood boil a degree hotter.

She was stunning, black hair, red lips, perfect skin. You loved yourself, obviously, but it was not in your character to deny that this woman was gorgeous by nature and she was edgeding her chair closer to him.

"Thank you so much for your help today, Agent Hotchner." Her voice had climbed a few pitches in comparison than when she was talking privately with you. "Is it okay if I give you my number, just in case I think of anything else?"

"Of course." Hotch was smiling-- no beaming--at the woman, reaching into his pocket to grab his business card.

Your lashes fluttered up and down is disbelief, jealously rolling off of you in category nine waves. You folded your hands on top of your skirt, cleaning and unclenching until you started to lose feeling in your fingertips.

You're fine, just take a deep breath. Hotch was simply being polite. That's it. But the rationalized thoughts in your head did not match the quicksand feeling in your stomach.

Unfortunately for you, showing and expressing your feelings in an appropriate manner had always been a struggle. Articulating when things were bothering you was a foreign language to you. The other side to this was you had no logical reason to feel the way you did. He was your boss, and you were his assistant. He wasn't your boyfriend. But that fine distinction did nothing to dampen the primal impulse to reach across the desk and drag the woman by her hair. 

That was dramatic, really. It was unfair to project your ugly feelings onto her when in all honestly, in her position, you’d be doing the exact same.

As much as you loved your job and adored your boss, sometimes you wished you didn’t work for him so you could push the boundaries just a little bit when it came to flirting with him.

Thankfully, for the sake of your career, the woman gone before your rash instincts could manifest into action. You needed to get a grip and possibly go reapply your lipstick.

You spent the majority of the day, from that point, avoiding Hotch like the plague. You weren't quite equipped to sift through the emotional chaos brewing inside you, especially when your focus needed to be on getting your tasks done, not on who Hotch might be interested in. It didn't matter if he liked that woman. You could cope. Maybe.

When you did have to come into contact with him, you found yourself acting like a wounded animal. The sight of his face only served to replay that stupid smile he flashed at her. He was probably already in love, daydreaming about their shared life ahead. Their three kids, the white picket fence, maybe even a dog.

You flipped open your makeup mirror, dabbing powder on to your nose and forehead while mentally reminding yourself to pull it together and behave like the grown-up you were supposed to be.

No sooner had you left the bathroom had you crashed into something, legs betraying you as you lurched forward, nearly spiraling to the floor. Your hands shot out, closing around the nearest object which felt to be the lapels of a suit. 

Your gaze snapped into sharp focus. Yes, definitely the lapels of a suit, and not just any suit--It was Hotch's.

Fantastic.

You quickly retracted your hands, letting them hang limply by your sides as you took a cautious step backward.

His brows furrowed, lips tipping downward as he absently adjusted his watch. "You okay?"

"Peachy!”

That was too much.

You attempted to sidestep him, but he anticipated the move. His arm reached out with surprising speed, fastening around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Hey." It was funny how a single word in that deep voice of his was enough to make your heart beat a little faster. "You've been avoiding me all day. I don't want to pry, but if there's something I've done to upset you, I'd like to know so we can clear the air."

"What?" you responded too quickly, avoiding his gaze as your hand went to your neck. "Oh, no, no, it's not you, sir. I just... I think I might be catching a cold or something. Just feeling a bit woozy."

You were definitely coming down with something—it was a green, nasty disease that had your judgement in a clouded haze.

He smiled, making your heart go into overdrive. "You're a terrible liar."

"No idea what you mean." Your voice went up an octave too high. "But, um, there's a bunch of witnesses I need to follow up with. There's this one who was... really eager. Maybe she'd respond better to you?"

There was a pause before Hotch spoke, his voice low and certain. "I've seen many reactions from you, but jealousy? Is that what's happening here?"

You blinked rapidly, heat rising to your cheeks. "Jealous? That's... that's ridiculous."

"I'd like to think I know you better than that." He gave you a deadpan look. "You've been avoiding eye contact, you've been unusually quiet, and I didn't necessarily miss that look you gave her."

You swallowed hard, proving him right and looking anywhere but him as you fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve. 

"It's not... it's just, you know... I don't know, the smile you gave her, it seemed a bit unprofessional to me."

Your words tumbled out in a flustered rush, not capable of taking them back as you realized the absurdity of it all.

Hotch's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Unprofessional? Did it look like I was flirting? Because that would be a first."

"No, I don't think you were flirting, not exactly." You should stop yourself while you're ahead. "But she was, and you didn't exactly shut it down."

Hotch's face was unreadable. "Honestly, I didn't even realize she was flirting with me. Even so, I'm curious—why would that bother you?"

"Well, I mean, I... It doesn't, not really. I just think we should all be focused, that's all," you managed, voice faltering as you tried to be convincing.

"I assure you, my focus is on all the right places," Hotch said, taking a step closer that almost felt invasive. His gaze dropped to your lips momentarily before snapping back up to your eyes.

"O-okay."

The closeness of him was sending your body into overdrive, the room suddenly feeling too small, his presence way too intense.

"And just for the record," Hotch said over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "If I were to flirt, trust me, it would be with someone who already had all my attention."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash

[feeder86]

Feeder 86: The Top Ten

Can you believe that the Feeder86 ‘Orginal Gainer Stories’ blog will soon be posting the two hundredth story? I thought of many ways to celebrate. But then I stopped and realised that I would probably be best using the time to address one of the questions I get asked about most frequently. Which of the stories do I personally like the most?

This was not an easy list to make as I very rarely go back to re-read my own work after I have finished editing and posting them. This is not because I do not like them, but because I always see bits that I want to change. Nevertheless, this project was the perfect opportunity to revisit a few oldies that I remember being very proud of at the time. 

Hopefully you will see this list for what it is: a glimpse into how I write, my motivations and drive; rather than just a self indulgent pat on the back for myself. Yuck!

So, with that being said, let us begin...

#10 The Feeders’ Formula: This tale certainly had to be placed into the list. After all, it is the one that kicked off ‘Original Gainer Stories’ all those years ago. There are many amazing examples of instant body weight transformation stories out there. I felt that I needed to write this one as my contribution to the genre. It went down well at the time. I swiftly wrote a Part Two, then followed it up with others (The Feeders’ Formation, The Feeders’ Formalities, The Feeders’ Foreclosure, The Feeders’ Forecast, The Feeders’ Former Years), becoming something of an ongoing saga in recent years; focusing on the different Feeders from that very first meeting. As a writer who sometimes struggles to find the ending, these are wonderful to write as they all have the same inevitable conclusion. There is also so much freedom to be had when you’re working with characters who are pretty much pure evil. I know so much more about the Feeders than I’ve ever written down, so it is great to tease out those little details with each new installment. The newest of these tales (The Feeders’ Foreplay) was the darkest yet, but seems to have provoked a very favourable reaction from many. Who knows what the Feeders may get up to next? I do! And you can find out too, once we start a whole new sweeps season of stories this April! Come with me into The Feeders' Fortress!

#9 Only One: Where do I start? Only One has my absolute favourite type of feeder. Ben is big, sexy and very in control. He’s one of those rare types of guys who always stays on top and is a step ahead of absoultely everyone he meets. Who wouldn’t fall for him? I certainly did! In fact, I loved him so much that I wrote an entire prequel for him (and none of you even noticed!) Check out Rewire if you want to see how Ben became the man we know and love.

#8 The Wright Boys: The idea of a weight gain that cannot be stopped or controlled is a tempting one for many. How much easier would it be if you didn’t have to second guess your choices or face the pressure to lose weight? This was the first tale of what I see as ‘The Curses’ saga that eventually bled into many other stories (including another one on this list!) and culminated in Wright vs Beckett. However, this story remains my personal favourite of these. If you’re a fan of looking for crossovers between my stories, these are some of the most explicitly linked. I followed it up with a spin-off tale (The Wright Boys: DNA), but continue to have ideas about how I could go back to these boys in the future. Watch this space.

#7 Making Monsters: The title of this story really does give away how I felt about it at the time. This is quite the saga, spread over into not just two, but three parts! It began as a story that was very similar to Blackmailed; a tale that I had written previously about a guy voyeristically enjoying seeing his friend fatten up her boyfriend. However, this story evolved even further for me, with Tommy’s love of eating and gaining weight being both his greatest love, and his biggest shame. His denial only heightened the tension for me, and, when he does eventually give in, the gains feel all the more satisfying as a result.

#6 The Pig Feed: It’s not easy to write a gainer story where there isn’t another character spurring the events along and encouraging things. In this tale however, that role is given to a very tasty and surprisingly addictive pig feed mixture that Steve gets himself hooked on. It’s a story that I really enjoyed writing and still feel very happy with. I have considered writing more stories around this interesting feed. However, I am yet to do so; deciding (for now at least) that things are perhaps best left as they are. But, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this.

#5 Farm Boy: Whether you grew up in a big city, or a small rural community, like Hayden in this story, we can all relate to having desires and attractions that those around us don’t understand. And, thanks to how well connected we are these days, we now know what it’s like to realise that you’re not actually alone, and the whirlwind of excited emotions that follow. I enjoyed writing this story because I, quite simply, fell completely in love with Hayden. As kinky as he was, he still retained that fresh faced innocence throughout. If any of my characters were destined to be together forever, I imagine that these two would be my top choice.

#4 Keeping a Crush: This is one of those stories that I wrote in a matter of hours, and I was so pleased with it when I was done. Getting the train to go to work is not necessarily something that many Americans have to do, and so the location had to be switched to the UK (quite refreshing, I thought!). For me, it’s one of those really rare instances where placing very solid restrictions on the structure of a story (In this case, having it all take place during the commute to and from work) and finding that it actually elevates the sexual tension and mood. All scenes take place in public settings. All conversations could, in theory, be overheard. These days, so many people meet online and flirt for weeks by messaging back and forth, before they even see each other for the first time. Nowadays, for better or for worse, the actual, real fantasy is finding a connection with someone you just see in the real world; perhaps with a person you literally just met on the way to work...

If you’ve not read this one, I really would highly recommend it.

#3 To the Max: Stories with a magical element to them are either loved or hated. However, I find that this tale walks that line very successfully. Ned gets his hands on a love potion and makes straight guy, Max, fall for him. I’m sure we’ve all been there with that fantasy! However, it is in the consequences of inviting someone into your life, someone that you actually know very little about, that the entire eroticism of this story is based. I won’t spoil it for those who have not read it, but believe me when I say that things soon start getting very interesting indeed…

#2 Tommy’s Two Hundred. Don’t recognise this one? Well, that's because none of you have read it yet. 

Now, I’m not just saying this because I want you all to come back for the two hundreth story, but this is genuinely one of my absolute favourites. For my big milestone stories in the past, I have written something specifically for that event (Wright vs Beckett, The Seven Feeders of Finn). However, this is just a tale that I adored writing and decided to hold back for you all, especially for this occasion. It’s a story of domination and submission within a fairly open, but very kinky, relationship. Strapping Hunter plays the part of a very controlling feeder, making me break many of my own rules and stretching my boundaries to the absolute limits. You’ll either love him, or you’ll hate him. That’s all I’m going to say…

Also, this story is going to be the first Feeder86 story that will be fully illustrated. It’s all thanks to the amazing talents of Spellwell9 who was given an advanced copy and asked to imagine the characters in four different scenes. I cannot wait for you to see this!

Put it in your diary. All will be revealed from Friday 5th April…

#1 F80 Control: This is perhaps a controvercial choice (especially as my #1). I have previously admitted that this story strays a little from its purpose of being a gainer story. In other words, I get very caught up in the background story that is being told. However, I feel that the science fiction genre is surprisingly underused in tales of weight gain. Yet, the combination of Aritificial Intelligence and submission seemed, to me, to be the perfect blend. It really is a beast of a story if you can follow it all the way through to its conclusion. 

With the advent of improved artificial intelligence software in recent years, I felt the time was right to develop the world further, with the addition of F80 Ctrl Alt Del; a spin-off tale set slightly before the main story. Then, unable to help myself, I followed this up again with another companion story, F80: Kidnap and Control. 

The reason I chose this universe as my favourite is because this is where I am happiest writing. With AI, I don’t need to consider the morality or motivations - I know exactly what their aims are and I can see multiple ways in which it will cause conflict with humanity (and their waistlines!) I would also love to write more for this world one day, and I even left a little unused subplot in the last story that I think would provide the perfect starting-off point for another chapter. Will I ever write it? Well, we’ll have to wait and see…

So, there you have it! The the complete list!

This was a much harder exercise than I expected when I first embarked upon it. Stories like: Jiggle the Jock, Meticulous, Rule Number One, Freaks, Leftovers I and II, Ethan: The Secret Feeder and, not fogetting The Consequences I, II and III all crept in and out of the list, unfortunatley missing out on the final cut. There are many, many others, of course. But this list cannot go on forever...

So, why not tell me which ones were your favourites? Feel free to write in the comments and post a link to any other stories that you have enjoyed from myself, or from other authors. Hopefully, if we all work together, this could become a great resource for people in the future, filled with signposts and reccommendations.  

Also, don’t forget the Feeder86 Contents page where you can find links and descriptions of all the 200 stories posted so far (as well as plot outlines for upcoming tales as well). Please continue to enjoy the vast catalogue of stories, and even have a go yourself! I love supporting the many new gainer fiction writers who contact me. So please do get in touch if you need advice, or to talk through your ideas. Let’s all encourage a whole new generation of people to get typing away! I’m sure you will cheer them on just as much as I will.

Thank you to everyone who supports the stories blog here on Tumblr. Keep checking in every Friday througout April for a whole new sweeps season to celebrate this milestone. Stories will include: Tommy's Two Hundred, Train for a Gain, The Feeders' Fortress and The 1% (a companion story to The 5%). For now, I thank you all for taking time out to sit and read the very bizarre tales that sprout from my mind. You are all wonderful.

Happy 200 stories!

Feeder86

[inthelibrarybtw]

you want me to pretend? | five

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: college!basketball!captain!rafe x college!student!reader content: fluff, college au, smau/irl, inaccurate school system talk

summary: You were trying to make one problem disappear. You were tired, so you lied. That small lie led you to contact the last person you wanted to ask for help. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Rafe; only that you didn’t want to deal with his constant teasing more than you already did. Also, you two weren't that close, but this one lie was going to bring you two closer and maybe help some truths come to light.

word count: 0.6k

authors note: we're back, literally. there will be more flashbacks in the future so stay tuned. Also I made a playlist with the songs up to this part.

04 | 05 | 06

Sophomore year - 2022

Statistics. You weren’t the biggest fan of the class, yet you took it every semester of your major. One positive thing this class brought you was Kelce. You and Kelce had met thanks to your moms when you were kids and had also gone to kindergarten together. You had moved houses, and when it was time for elementary school, you belonged to a new district, so you didn’t attend the same one as Kelce. But life brought the two of you back together last year in this very same class. As a freshman, you thought you wouldn’t know anyone, but there was the familiar face with whom you had shared so many memories. Kelce didn’t hesitate to talk to you, and it felt like no time had passed. 

This was supposed to be the second class, but the professor was sick last week, so there was no class. Even if this was the first class, he was already assigning a project. It was small, but it had to be done in groups of no fewer than three people, and those groups would remain for the rest of the semester. 

“You can work with us,” Kelce said. 

“Us who?” you asked, confused; he was alone. 

“He is late; he had an impromptu basketball meeting.” Just as on cue, the guy Kelce had been talking about walked into the class, excusing himself to the professor and standing in front of you. 

“You’re in my seat,” he said in a gentle tone. 

“Well, you weren’t here.” You gave him a little smile and added, 

“I think I can forgive you just because of that smile,” he smirked. 

“Just sit down, Rafe,” Kelce motioned to his friend, and you just stared at him. 

After the class ended, Kelce formally introduced the two of you and mentioned that he would create a group chat to talk when needed. You said goodbye to both and left for your next class.

“So, how long have you known her?” Rafe asked Kelce.

“Since when do you care how long I’ve known someone?”

“Since today,” he paused. “Now answer.” Kelce chuckled.

“Since we were kids; our moms are friends. You would’ve met her if she hadn’t moved away before we started elementary school.”

“Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?”

“Why would I mention it before?… Wait! You liked her,” Kelce laughed as they walked out of class.

“Not to be that guy, but have you seen her? Why wouldn’t I like her?”

“Have some backbone, would you? You don’t even know her.”

“And that’s your fault! Why have you kept her hidden?” Kelce laughed out loud again.

“I haven’t kept her hidden.”

“Do you like her?”

“Calm down, would you? No, I don’t like her. She is pretty, but she’s not my type, and I’ve known her for so long I can’t see her that way.”

“I didn’t know you knew Rafe,” Sarah says as you both make your way inside the coffee shop.  

“I don’t; Kelce introduced us yesterday in statistics class, and now we are working together as a group.”  

“That’s nice. He’s pretty good with numbers.”  

“Good to know. I’m not a big fan,” you said, chuckling softly. “How do you know him?”  

“Oh, he is my cousin. We were born almost at the same time and grew up together,” Sarah smiled.  

“It’s like you are siblings.”  

“Oh, we definitely treat each other like siblings sometimes,” she laughs.  

You both continued talking and decided to order because the guys weren’t showing up, and Ruthie had told you that she was going to be late because she had forgotten to buy groceries. After you two had ordered, you sat and continued talking while scrolling through your phones.

taglist: @zyafics @maybankslover @niaunoffical @marleymarleymarleymarley @rafesbabygirlx @akobx @papercranesandinkstains @drewstarkeyspecs @winterivory @my-name-is-baby @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @drewrry @ursogorgeous13 @pr3tty-pink @lmaowhatt @reeseswirl @xoxosblogsblog @lili-swagalicious @ayy1234567 @rihannamars @congratsloserr @moonywhisp3rs @iamheretoread1234 @rafesdrew @bee-43 @pogueprincesa @cokewithcameron @landososcar @drewstarkeyslover @wintersoldierslover @rafecqmeronslove @defnotayonna if you want to be added send an ask or comment! :) follow and turn on notifications on @inthelibrarybtw-notifs to get updates on everything i write

REBLOGS, COMMENTS AND LIKES ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED

INTHELIBRARYBTW ✧.

[a-mint-bear]

Her Favorite Employee

Female Yandere x Female Reader

You're the personal assistant of your company's CEO. She's controlling, married to her job, and runs you ragged. But you're good at your job, and she loves to let you know how much she appreciates you.

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

"What's on my schedule for this afternoon?"

A quick recap of what was on the docket for that day as you dropped off her coffee order. Soon she’d be in back to back meetings while you handled her calls and made the rounds to the various teams she oversaw. Same as most mornings.

“Wonderful. Make sure to have the Hillmore reports on my desk by three, and send a nice gift basket to Reynolds in Sales. His wife just had twins.”

You told her the reports would be done before her lunch with R&D, and you’d already sent a basket with her name on it two days ago which included a gift certificate to a local spa for the new mother.

“I knew you’d be on it.” She smiled into her coffee. “Much obliged, love.”

You nodded behind your tablet, trying not to be obvious about your lack of eye contact. It was torture when she called you that.

It was a lot, working under her. But at the same time, it was oddly… fulfilling. She gave you so many responsibilities and trusted, more expected, you to come through. Every time.

Not even six months ago you'd been just another employee. It was a decent job; Good pay and benefits, and the work was easy enough, the hours sucked sometimes but it wasn't like you had a rich social life it was cutting into.

You didn’t make any friends in the office, you weren’t sure any of your coworkers even knew your name. To them, you were just “that one girl who refills the paper in the copier”. Because someone has to, and you work with a bunch of animals who think that the paper just magically replenishes itself. Now you were “The Boss’ secretary”, that was at least more respectable? Maybe?

But before you were her assistant, you were just her “favorite employee”. And that was more trouble than it was worth.

She didn’t care much for being called by her surname like most of the superiors in the company, but no one was brave enough to call her by her given name. So most in the company just called her Boss or Miss. And she liked it that way. You were pretty sure she just liked how intimidating it made her seem.

She was always around. At first, you thought it might've been because she was your boss. She was probably just trying to see if you were any good at your job, maybe looking for a reason to fire you if she noticed anything off. But ever since you were hired, it just kept happening. Your first days in the office quickly turned into weeks and she was still circling you for seemingly no reason.

You could excuse it to yourself, maybe she was the micromanaging type. But her attention always seemed to be on you, almost exclusively, more than anyone else in the office. And it was… intimidating. For a couple of reasons.

She seemed to love… picking on you, if you could call it that. Any extra projects she needed done? You were her first choice. Fixing the new guy's botched paperwork before a big deadline? You were on it, of course. Overtime? Yup, you. It would be more annoying if you weren't getting paid really well. But you always got it all done, ahead of schedule, without any complaints.

And if she wasn't being oddly petty, she was being… oddly flirty.

Sitting on the edge of her desk when she talked quarterly reports over with you. Leaning a little too close when she took something off your desk. Her fingers brushed yours when you handed her things. A bump to your arm with hers here, a touch to your shoulder there… Every time you wondered if you were just imagining things, it happened again. She never did anything overtly inappropriate or pushed past any sign you were uncomfortable, but the truth was… you weren’t. It was a bit much to have this beautiful woman pay so much attention to you, but you weren’t going to lie, it wasn’t… the worst thing in the world.

It contrasted hard with her usual put-together image, prim and proper and out of reach from the mere mortals in the office. But as far as you’d noticed, she didn’t act this way in front of anyone else in the office. And you didn’t know what to do with that information.

You weren’t sure if any of it was on purpose, or if she was just flirtatious by nature. It was always hard to tell with women, as a woman. Was she into you? Was she even attracted to women?? Or did she get her jollies by flustering the office loner?

She stayed just as late as you most nights, if not longer. And checked up on you. And chatted with you when she had a minute. You just didn't get why. You weren't anyone special. And she was so…

She was gorgeous, always so well put-together and stunning. You'd never met a woman who was so beautiful it made you nervous, like a dumb teenager. But it couldn't outweigh how much she got on your nerves with how she was always in your business, so the conflicting emotions just made for long, exhausting workdays.

If she knew you were annoyed with her, she never let it show. But it wasn't long before you realized just why she'd been watching you so closely.

One day, all the creeping around and odd attention she was paying you started to make sense. The Boss Lady called you into a meeting with herself and the head of H.R. and just…

Offered you a promotion. Just like that.

"I've been really impressed by your work ethic.” She was being so poised and professional, every word out of her mouth sounded so assured, even though you were very much a deer in the headlights at the moment. “I need someone with a work/life balance that matches my own and can work with my schedule to be my personal Executive Assistant. Your hours would increase, but there will be a significant pay raise and company benefits.”

And boy, what a significant pay raise it was. You'd have to be a complete idiot to turn it down. It meant more responsibilities in the company and you'd be expected to dress up a bit more for appearance's sake, but a few suit jackets and skirts with nice dress shoes would be more in your price range now. It would mean spending A LOT more time with her though, and you weren't sure if your weak heart could take the damn near constant presence of this woman.

But maybe, SOMEHOW, it really was all in your head. Maybe the proximity to her while she was vetting you for the position just had you all mixed up?

Maybe the money was making you too eager to accept, but accept you did.

And it was normal, or as normal as things could be around that place, at least for a little while.

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

You were scheduling some meetings for her and logging them in her calendar when another co-worker knocked on your office door.

“Oh hey, do you have a minute?”

You recognized them… You didn’t remember their full name but everyone called them Jay.

They started a few months after you did, and they seemed nice enough. Right now they looked a little out of sorts, which was unusual. They were usually the cool, flirty, sporty type who was good friends with everyone, not an awkward bone in their body. The two of you weren’t friends or anything, but there was no bad blood between the two of you.

You asked them what was up, and it took them a minute before finally spitting it out.

“Okay, so… totally tell me to screw off if I’m barkin’ up the wrong tree here.” It was kind of funny seeing them so nervous. “Would you wanna… go to dinner tomorrow?”

Without thinking, you pulled up your planner, asking if there’d been an email you’d missed about some team-building thing. But they just laughed.

“No, I meant… Just you and me.”

You froze, wondering if you had heard right. You cut to the chase, asking if they meant like a date?

“We don’t have to call it a date, if you don’t want to!” They held up their hands defensively, like you were someone they were worried about offending with this. You wondered how people saw you around here for them to be so nervous. Or maybe they just… really liked you that much. “But… yeah. I wanted to ask you out.”

You gave it a moment to sink in.

You weren’t automatically thinking of saying no. Did that mean you wanted to say yes? They were tall and attractive, in a “soft beanpole with a cute haircut” kind of way. They looked good in their usual button up with the rolled-up sleeves, and pulled the look off better than half the people around the office. The opposite of your very feminine boss. Looks-wise they were nothing alike, but both had the same confident, assertive air about them. Maybe that was appealing to you, and Jay was just as much your type as the Boss was.

You scolded yourself. Why were you thinking about her? Now?

At the end of the day, you didn’t see any reason to say no. It could be a nice time. This stupid not-a-crush you had on your boss was never going to go anywhere, so why not try and see someone who went out of their way to ask you out? If it didn’t work out, you would handle it like an adult.

Jay looked nervous that you’d been thinking for so long. You told them you had a pretty packed schedule, but if you could get a night off, it would be nice to have dinner with them tomorrow. You half-jokingly told them that if it went well, you’d slap the “date” label on it. Their cheeks went a bit red, but they were grinning ear to ear.

“Cool!” They laughed, a bit too loud before catching themself, playing it cool. “I mean uh… That sounds good. Let me know.”

They quickly left, muttering to themself to “keep it together”, probably thinking you couldn’t hear. It was kind of cute, in a weird way. Maybe they were shyer than you’d originally thought.

But now came the hard part. Getting a night off.

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

“No, that won't do.” She didn’t even look up from her computer.

That’s all she had to say to your request. At first, you felt disappointed but you were ready to just turn around and leave, accepting it. But this was just... bothering you. You piped up, trying to reason with her. Her schedule was free tomorrow night and you were a week ahead on all the reports she’d put you in charge of. You hadn’t had a night off in a few weeks.

And you’d never complained. You’d even kind of liked the challenge, the effort you put into your work gave you purpose. Working as her personal assistant was the most rewarding job you’d ever had. And you even told her so.

So why?

She sighed, she seemed almost… annoyed?

“I heard some chatter in the hall this afternoon.” She just kept typing away. “Someone was asking about restaurant recommendations for a big date. They seemed excited about having finally asked out the CEO’s assistant. And that they were so surprised she’d said yes.”

So she knew? She knew you were asking for a night off for a date? What did that have to do with anything? But you kept quiet for the moment, wondering where she was going with this.

“Maybe it’s my fault.” she sighed, sitting back in her plush office chair. “I was too…generous. I wanted to make you feel comfortable working for me so I let you do what you wanted. I can admit to my mistakes.”

Generous? By working you like a dog day in and day out? By keeping you from doing something as simple as going on a date with someone who was interested in you?

You asked her why. Why was she so against you having a life? Why was she doing this?

You knew it was a bad-no, a super bad idea to be mouthing off to your boss. Possibly career-ending. But you’d done so much for her, every day for months on end and never letting her down no matter how difficult or grueling the task. And she couldn’t even give you this one night off?

You needed a reason.

“Oh, it’s quite simple.” She smiled her usual stunning smile. But you weren’t going to let it get to you this time. No ma’am. But as she got up from her desk, coming around to stand too damn close, you felt your resolve slipping.

“From the day you started working here, I knew I wanted to keep you by my side.”

As an employee, right?

. . .

Right??

“You were… quite the sight.” she sighed, a dreamy smile as she looked at you from beneath her long, dark lashes. “So put off by everyone. Always on your own. Uninterested. Unengaged. Unmotivated. At first I just wanted to frazzle you, make you lighten up a bit. You seemed so isolated, I figured a strong personality like mine would rub you the wrong way. But you had such an… interesting reaction.”

The both of you knew what she meant. The blushing, the nervous energy, all the times you tried so hard to act like you weren’t bothered by her attention. And most likely failed miserably.

“I saw how hard you worked. I could see your untapped potential. You were exactly what I needed. I knew I had to make you mine.”

You told her you didn’t understand. And maybe that was a lie. You couldn’t stop your thoughts from racing. She… wasn’t talking about work anymore, was she?

“I made you my assistant. You’re by my side, day in and day out. And… I thought that would be enough to satisfy this feeling. This... need. But it just wasn’t. And when I heard someone had taken an interest in you, I found myself quite…”

The intensity in her eyes felt so suffocating.

”Infuriated.”

You couldn't help but flinch when she laid her hands flat on your chest, just below your collar bone. Her touch burned itself into you, but you couldn’t take your eyes off hers. It felt like she’d devour you if you did.

“No one…” She grabbed you by your collar and yanked you closer, whispering in your ear. You hated the shiver it sent up your spine. “No one will ever take you away from me. Not another company. Not another department. And certainly not some little upstart from Sales.”

… She wasn’t talking about work anymore.

“If someone else took you from me... there would be no point in any of this. This job. It was so… stuffy and boring before you came along. Every day was just office politics and saying the right things to the right people.” She loosened her grip, straightening the collar on your suit jacket with an airy, light touch. “But you… You changed something. So I brought you to my side. And I’ve been watching, getting to know all about you. You play down your talents so you don’t draw any attention. But you can’t help yourself. What you want more than anything is for someone to say they appreciate you, that they need you.”

She had to know how this sounded, right? She almost sounded like…

“And I do.” She held your face in her hand, her thumb grazing your cheek so gently you could’ve convinced yourself her touch wasn’t real. “I need you, love. Without you, none of this means anything.”

Your breathing was shaky, you never imagined that this would- could ever happen in a million years.

She drew you closer, a soft gasp slipping out when you realized just how close. If anyone else popped in, it would be completely obvious what was going on. But you didn’t push her away. If anything, you wished she would just close the gap and take it out of your hands.

“So what do you say?” She whispered in your ear, the warmth of her breath making you feel weak. “Are you mine?”

As if you could say anything else.

Yes, Miss.

It was so soft a response that you weren’t sure you’d said it out loud until you saw her smile. A finger to your lips, she laughed. Not her usual teasing, mischievous laugh when she was trying to get a reaction out of you. It was sweet, delighted and charming.

She was so close, her breath on your lips, her lashes just barely brushed your cheek.

“And I'm yours, love.”

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

this one has been a long time coming, writing femme yanderes is difficult lol

this y/n ended up being a lady, and it didn't come into play much. but the hypercompetent assistant girl in love with her powerful boss lady is a wlw pairing near and dear to my heart.

Boss Lady's tentative full name is Lenora. she doesn't care for it, she goes by Nora. i originally gave her a last name to be called by in the story to make her seem more imposing, but it came off as awkward, like she has a name, but i didn't want her to be known by an unimportant surname

Jay started off as a lady, but i wrote her as more androgynous and it felt right to make them nb instead. it helped keep the reader's sexuality more ambiguous. i wanted to write them as wlw, but not strictly a lesbian. but she reads very much as a "useless lesbian" trope lol. Boss lady had to flirt with her for literal months on end before y/n caught on

i don't quite know how old Boss Lady is, i imagine her as late 30s, very early 40s, and there could be an age difference here, but it's not a necessary part of the story.

this Boss Lady COULD be the same Boss Lady as the one in Boss Lady has a House Spouse, sometime in the future of their relationship. maybe y/n gets burned out or quits for some reason and then becomes a domestic partner. But Boss Lady who obsesses over her employee was imagined as a separate Boss Lady originally. you can never have too many boss ladies.

and that header. i've said it before that editing the femme yandere headers is so awkward because the office lady ones just turn into their chests in tight button-downs lol

*whispers* would you guys find it weird if she called the reader "good girl"? 'cause i almost included it at the end there but thought it might be a bit much. i have a problem✌️

[adaobiiii]

"Spare Miracle"

Pairing : Bob Reynolds x fem!Reader A/N : This isn't proof read so go easy on me please.................

Home || Main Masterlist 

The body came in a crate.

Not a coffin. Not a pod. Just a damp wooden crate. Long and heavy, wood scorched at the corners and humming faintly with leftover static. Valentina tilted her head as she circled it slowly, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. She couldn’t remember where it came from, some defect lab tied to Project Lightning Rod? Or maybe it was Project Frankenstein. The name was blacked out on the manifest, the only legible word left. Viable.

She popped the lid with a crowbar. She needed to do this herself. If this project wasn’t successful she would most definitely be shunned.

Inside was a girl.

Or something like one.

Her limbs weren’t fully attached. An arm had laid near the top of the box--far from where it would normally be attached, as though it had fallen off during shipping. One eye was faintly glowing, almost staring, but remained half-open like it was caught between life and death. Her skin had a faint green undertone, not one of rotting but more like overcharged copper. There were thin stitch lines, pale scar tissue connecting torso to hip, wrist to elbow, jaw to neck.

Valentina stared in horror and pride.

“…Just in case,” she muttered, dragging the crate to Sublevel E, the generator floor. “If the Sentry project goes sideways again, we might need a spare miracle.”

As she rode the elevator down, she watched as dark clouds loomed over the old avengers tower. She could only hope this would work.

14 Months Later

The first time Bob saw you, he thought you were a hallucination from the Void.

He was supposed to be the only one left in the tower, the others had left for a mission. It had been about 14 months since the ‘Black Out of New York’, as some would call it. He still had difficulty controlling the void and was unable to be the Sentry without it almost taking over. Not much help. This meant he was often home, quite similar to a live-in housekeeper. 

Not that he minded. Cleaning seemed to be one of the few things that could keep his head clear for hours. Which brings us back to the situation.

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor of the Watchtower’s lower power station, one hand buried in the inner workings of a busted generator and the other absently tossing a small blue bolt between your fingers like it was a coin. You looked up when he moved, eyes glowing faintly with static energy.

“Oh,” you said, blinking. “You’re Bob.”

He hesitated. How did you know his name? “And you are...?”

“Not sure,” you said casually. You waved at him with your free hand, which promptly detached at the wrist and smacked the floor with a thud. You didn’t even flinch. “Oops. Happens sometimes.”

Bob stared. I should call Yelena.

You sighed, picked up your hand, and clicked it back into place with the same ease someone might fix a watch strap. “I woke up in some box a few months ago. Didn’t figure out how to walk until recently, though. My knees used to bend backward.” You looked down at your legs fondly, like this was normal.

Bob took a cautious step forward. “Are you…human?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. More of a Frankenstein situation.”

He took small steps back, reaching for the phone at the center of the floor. He knew he wasn’t supposed to call the team when they were on missions except for emergencies--but this had to count for one. Right?

He called once. Twice. Three times and the call fell through each time.

The muffled sound of the dial tone rang through the room as the both of you made eye contact. His eyebrows furrowed, head tilting ever so slightly. “How did you know my name?...”

“Everyone here talks in their sleep,” you said matter-of-factly. “Especially the ginger with the shield. Walker? He says your name a lot. Usually when he’s mad.”

Bob’s brow furrowed. You pulled your wrist out of the generator—only to have it detach again.

You muttered, “I really need to get these things tightened…” and peered into the machine. The runaway wrist wriggled among the wires like a mouse. You glared at it. It froze. Then obediently crawled out and into your other hand.

Click. Reattached. Good as new.

Bob was lost. 

Your wrist just crawled on its own and you somehow knew his name. How did none of the team know they had a whole frankenstein monster in their basement. How had she gotten out of their basement? 

You watched as the boy stumbled backwards, almost tripping over his long sweatpants. He held out a hand in front of him, trying to keep you at a distance, as he moved back. He had to get someone. Anyone.

“That’s a bit mean,” you muttered to yourself as you finally got up. Once you stood he could finally see the true extent of your nature. The stitches that kept all your limbs together, the patchy yet harmonious texture of your skin, the nerving glow in your eyes and the two silver bolts sticking out of the sides of your neck that flickered with electric energy. 

“Running away from me already and you don’t even know my name,” she scoffed.

Bob swallowed hard. He wasn’t the best at social cues but this wasn’t exactly a normal daily situation. “S-sorry,” he fumbled over his words, “What’s your name?”

You opened your lips to answer before stopping. “She never told me,” you trailed off. The man’s ears perked.

“Who?” 

“The lady who moved me into your basement a few months ago,” she sighed, walking over to the kitchen. She swore she’d seen a package of batteries earlier. She had been thinking about grabbing some for a while. “She said something about a Sentry project and needing a spare miracle.”

Bob’s jaw dropped. 

“I couldn’t get a good look at her cause I hadn’t been charged properly but she had um...” she motioned to her hair, picking out a few front pieces. “White here and brown everywhere else,” she dropped the bangs and motioned to the rest of her hair as she tossed a duracell battery into her mouth. 

Bob blinked a few times then hurriedly grabbed the phone and quickly hit the dial again.

Nothing. Still nothing.

The screen blinked: “CALL FAILED.”

He stared at it like it had personally betrayed him.

“Okay,” he said, setting the phone down carefully on the counter. “Okay. No big deal. It’s just… everyone’s off-grid. On a mission. In an undisclosed location. That I don’t know of. Because I wasn’t allowed to go. Because I’m—”

He cut himself off, chest rising and falling too fast.

You tilted your head from across the room. “You good?”

“No. No, I am not good.” He pointed at you like it explained everything. “You—You’re a person. That no one told me exists. You eat batteries. Your arm came off. You’ve been living under the tower for what, months? Years? And you’re just. Fine with it?”

You shrugged, absently tossing a bolt of electricity between your hands. “Could’ve been worse.”

“How?” his hands flew out to his sides as he was so filled with confusion that he could no longer physically contain it.

You smiled. “Could’ve woken up to find out the world ended. Or had all my body parts separated in random jars across the world. Do you know how long it would take to put me back together that way?”

Bob opened his mouth to answer, then shut it. You had a point.

He sat down heavily at the edge of the table, running both hands through his hair.

“Valentina,” he said under his breath, “I knew she was hiding something. Everyone knows she’s hiding things, but this? You’re a whole person.. kinda?. And she just… boxed you up like Ikea furniture.”

You glanced over. “What’s Ikea?”

Bob stared. “You know what batteries are but not Ikea?”

“I learn what’s important.”

Bob laughed. Just once. The kind of sound that escapes before your brain can decide if it’s funny or tragic. “So no one else knows you’re here?” he repeated.

You blinked slowly. “Well I thought you did.”

“I live here,” he said, voice rising slightly in panic once more. “And I’ve never seen you before.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, your eyes slowly widened as you properly processed his words. “Wait… oh.”

Bob’s chest tightened. “Oh what?”

You squinted, leaning forward. “...I don’t think I was supposed to wake up yet.”

BOOM.

A sudden, muffled explosion echoed from somewhere up above.

The lights in the hallway flickered. Dust dropped from the vents. You looked up toward the ceiling. “Was that a bomb?” you asked.

Bob darted to the large window. A moment later, a distorted voice buzzed through the intercoms in the building barely audible through static.

“...Walker, get that door open, now!” “I am! It’s jammed, you emo looking rat!” “Shut up, Walker. Just keep pressure on it—Ava’s phasing too fast—”

Bob swore under his breath. “They’re back early.”

You stood next to him, batteries in hand, peeking through the hallway like this was all mildly amusing. “Thunderbolts, right?”

His head whipped toward you. “How do you know that?”

You gave him a look. “You all talk in your sleep, remember? Except that old guy. He just screams. A lot.”

Bob was about to say something when the security door at the end of the hallway burst open—sparks flying. You both turned just as the team spilled into the room, covered in dust, bruises, and adrenaline.

Yelena was first, blood on her temple, knives in hand. She froze.

Bucky followed close behind, gun drawn. He immediately took a step forward, shielding the others on instinct.

John Walker had a dislocated shoulder and a bad attitude, naturally. “Who the hell is that?”

Red Guardian trudged in, coughing and waving smoke away. “What is this? Little zombie girl? Electric Doll?”

Ava phased in last, glitching like a bad hologram. She landed in a crouch, eyes glowing through her mask—locking on you.

You blinked, mid-chew, still munching on half a triple-A battery. “Hi.”

Yelena narrowed her eyes, not taking them off you. “Bob. What is this?”

Bob raised both hands in surrender. “I swear, I just found her.”

Bucky lowered his rifle, flexing his metal arm in case he needed it again. “That stitching… it’s not surgical. It’s military-grade.”

John pointed. “She’s not part of the mission. What is she? Some Hydra leftover?”

You rolled your eyes. “Nope. Just your friendly neighborhood abomination.”

Bob stepped in front of you, arms out. “She’s not hostile... at least she doesn’t seem that way,” he mumbled at the end. 

“Louder Bob,” Alexei boomed.

He fidgeted with the ends of his sweatshirt. “She’s been here… apparently for months. Valentina brought her.”

That got everyone’s attention.

Yelena’s face hardened. “Valentina?”

Bucky growled. “Of course. That snake--”

“She called me a ‘spare miracle’,” you offered, hands making the air quotation signs. “Though I think I’m more like a glorified lightning rod with energy issues.”

Ava’s voice cut through the tension, her voice hoarse after the mission. “She didn’t tell anyone about you?”

You shook your head. “Apparently not.”

The room fell quiet.

Yelena exhaled slowly, eyes still locked on you, then turned to Bob. “We’re going to need to talk. All of us. But first get her upstairs.” she pointed at Walker.

The man scoffed in protest, “This is how it starts. Freaky hands, glowing eyes, next thing she’s ripping heads off. What if she goes for my brain?!”

“You seem to lack one so I think you’ll be alright” Ava mumbled before heading to what must have been the medical room. Holding onto her sides as she breathed heavily.

Bob looked at you as you hopped down from the counter and adjusted your shoulder as it slid slightly out of place. Click. Back in.

As you neared the rest of the group, you turned to one of the men and stretched out your hand, a battery held gently in it. “You look like you could use one.”

He eyed it warily. “I’m not battery-powered.”

You shrugged. “You’ve got a metal arm. Worth a shot.”

Trailing after the team, you glanced over your shoulder. “For a top-secret team, you guys really suck at checking your basement.”

Walker groaned. “I need a goddamn drink.”

Pt 2?

[monkebearness]

He (+ She) & Her [Pt. 2]

Lee JiWoo (tripleS) x Male Reader (ft. Kim ChaeYeon)

Part 1, Part 2.5.1

Tags: fluff, smut, open poly relationship, anal, blowjob, creampie, alcohol, (slight) violence (towards the male protagonist)

Word count: 16k

a/n: finally wrote the second part! much like the previous one, it's a little heavier on the plot side (dialogue, too), but I still hope you like it.

Two months have passed since Honggi and Chaeyeon have said those words to each other, despite knowing well of the latter’s open relationship with Jiwoo. The couple’s apartment has become a second, nay third home to him the longer he pays visits there every weekend to hang out and relax with both women, sometimes bringing them gifts and snacks from their favorite places. This day is not that different.

“I’m sorry, Honggi-yah.”

Except for one thing.

Chaeyeon, in her dark blue business jacket and grey slacks, tiptoes on her one-inch heels to give him a comforting kiss on the noggin.

“An out-of-town business trip, huh?” Honggi hums, holding his own lips from forming a pout, although it was his natural reaction after hearing this news for the first time. “I get that three of you are now dealing with bigger projects because you’re basically promoted now, but I didn’t expect that to happen so fast. You guys are going somewhere far away.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll only be three weeks.” She rubs his cheek. “And it’s only a convention in Jeju, so the time zone is the least of our worries.”

A sigh leaves from his mouth. “That’s almost a month, Chae.”

“Yeah,” she snickers. “Only if you joined the project with me, you wouldn’t have been stuck in our office. Too bad Min volunteered for the last spot before you could have.”

“I don’t think that’s the problem…” His gaze falls to the floor. “That’s because you’re way above our leagues. You’re a natural, babe.”

“Don’t be so down on yourself… Or put me on a pedestal, as much as I’m flattered,” she giggles. “I know you’ll get promoted too. If you really want to lead or even participate in a new project, just don’t hesitate telling our leader next time. I know you can.”

She’s right, his brain reminds him, but his mouth asks, “You know so?”

“Of course. We’ve been working together in the same team for a year.” Chaeyeon fixes his disheveled hair, pushing his messy bangs to his right side. “I know you—” she leans into his ear. “In and out… And I know you do, too, with me.”

He feels a shiver crawl up his spine. “I guess that’s true… I’m proud of you, whether you’ll get promoted or not.”

“Gomawo. I appreciate that so much, baby.”

“But I wanna feel optimistic, so you go get that promotion, babe… We’ll wait for you.”

She returns his words with a kiss on his left cheek. “Take care of our Jiwoo-yah…”

“You mean your Jiwoo?”

“No,” she only retorts, while a smile slowly forms on her face as she pushes her luggage next to the door with her foot.

He can only snortle at her response. “You need any help with getting that downstairs?”

“It’s fine…” She gives her suitcase a quick nudge. “This isn’t that heavy, oppa. And my ride’s waiting for me in a few minutes.”

“Do you want us to see you downstairs?”

“Is this your way of wanting me to stay?” She gives him a pout and her puppy eyes, a combination that always makes Honggi’s heart flutter much faster.

“As much as I want that, you know I can’t… This is your career, Chae.”

“And I wouldn’t have reached that milestone without both of you, love.”

Just as their lips touch, she hears her phone on her hand ringing. “I guess that's your cue,” Honggi surmises.

“It is, babe…” Chaeyeon lifts the telescopic handle, extending it with her right hand while carrying an oversized tote on her left. “Galge!”

“Chamkaman, unnie!” They hear Jiwoo’s voice as she rushes to them at the foyer as they have a warm embrace which mirrors theirs.

His promise to Chaeyeon, aside from loving her, is getting to know her girlfriend, Jiwoo. So far, it’s doing pretty good, despite his self-doubts. During weekends, they would meet and hang out at various spots. Some of which were unfamiliar to him, at least during his first four months of dating Chaeyeon. Jiwoo pledged to do the same—though Honggi is not too familiar with how their talk went through. Perhaps, he’ll just have to wing it.

=

The first week comes. He practically moved in at the apartment for most of the week, not necessarily to “fill in the spot” left by Chaeyeon, but to take a chance that she has been giving him for a while. They're not the closest, but they are decent friends to say the least, having dug a little deeper beyond the surface of formalities and awkwardness. They're aware of a lot of each other's favorites and interests, laugh at or with each other, and exchange banters around Chaeyeon.

But not having her around, cues the chirps that are heard outside their balcony window. Then Honggi realizes the awkwardness between them hasn't left the room as much as he had hoped. Chaeyeon's presence simply diminished that hindrance. She has always been their bridge, their mediator. Without her in the meantime, he's gonna have to take some bigger steps to feel at his second home.

In the span of six days, he has to check a few things off his list. Do things he’s never done for his girlfriend before, at least when she’s around. But being around Jiwoo on his own, it feels a little colder. Still, he doesn’t blame her. A pack of ten pieces of instant iced tea.

Buying the necessary groceries every weekend is his first priority. Five tissue paper rolls. One 5 kg bag of rice. A carton of eggs. A couple of instant tteokbokki. Five various packs of instant ramen. Plenty of baking supplies, which he guesses is needed for her bakery.

“Gomawo, Honggi-ssi. That must’ve been a lot to carry.”

“No problem, Jiwoo-ssi. I had a service bot’s assistance on the taxi, so it’s no biggie.”

As he continues to sort out the groceries on the counter, she looks at him with deadpan eyes. Perhaps even irritated ones. “I know what you're trying to do, Honggi… But, I can handle it from there.”

“It’s fine, I’m helping organize the apartment. That’s what Chaeyeon and I agree to—”

“And I appreciate it.” There’s a tone of reservation mixed in her lukewarm cadence.

He wants to maintain his nonchalance, but he simply can't break through her coldness. “Don’t mention it. I’ll org—”

“But I want to.” Her tone sounded firmer with that interjection. “This is my apartment too, Honggi, so you should let me organize the rest of this.”

Alarmed by her words, he slowly takes a step back from her. “Okay, okay. Mianhaeyo.”

There's no guidebook to this, but he's allowing himself to be more vulnerable. He knows that knowing someone takes a lot of time and respect, but feels like he has to do more in order to gain the latter from the woman. For a second, Jiwoo closes her eyes shut as she bites her lip, unable to hide her own guilt. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay, I just…” he sighs, before taking a seat on the chair next to the couch. “I want us to not get off on the wrong foot here, because we’re both dating the same woman.”

Jiwoo keeps her lips bitten. She knows he’d come around eventually. Now should be the time, she realizes. “I know… Can I just say something to you? I just feel like I have to let it out, or else things will get worse… Between us, I mean. I don’t want that for unnie, or you, in this case.”

“Of course. What is it?”

Her hands keep clenching. “I, umm, I thought you two would just be… Purely physical.”

That definitely struck his nerve, but he has to keep himself together. “What?”

She expected his reaction. Collecting her thoughts, she sits down on the couch, slightly slouched in her position while she faces the floor. “I was bothered at first, you know?”

“Are you still bothered…” his agitation forces him to ask. “Now, I mean.”

“Not really. Not as much as I thought. I’ve always known this one is gonna happen soon. This whole open relationship was something we both agreed to do. We wanted it… But it was Chaeyeon-unnie falling for someone that bugged me for a while… When she actually told me that loves someone, aside from me? Man, it’s way more different when you hear those words from her mouth.”

The man swallows his throat, while his fingers instinctively tap on the surface of the chair, hoping it will deafen the silence haunting them. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be,” she chuckles, her voice unable to hide her guilt-ridden tone. “Even though I didn’t exactly find you too “appealing” at first, I’m glad I got to know you better… I was gonna say that you’ve hit the jackpot, but I like to think that unnie is just as lucky too.”

Despite his mind having retorts about what she’s said about him, Honggi listens on to her honest and soothing sentiments.

“The truth is, I’m happy that she’s happy with you, too. She has a shoulder to lean on during or after work. Someone she can listen to. Someone she could get intimate with whenever I’m at work. Plus, I get to have another assistant at the bakery this month…”

Her last statement makes Honggi chuckle, and in turn, Jiwoo herself.

“She’s with the best man, the best person she has ever been with. That’s you.”

Except for silence, he doesn’t know what else to respond. Still, he musters up the courage to tell her, “Thanks.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you, Honggi. That I gave you a lot of cold shoulders.”

“No, it’s fine… It’s just… I never saw Chaeyeon other than just… A physical partner… Even if that’s what we were mostly doing, I really liked her since we’ve gotten close.”

“She is in love with you, Honggi,” she groans. “I mean, I’m not against it. That’s how she feels… It’s just, you’re the first one she said those words to in a while.”

“So is she,” he counters.

“Well… That’s different. Maybe, I honestly don’t know if I’m just being overprotective.”

“I know… And I don’t blame you for feeling that way… I can’t blame Chae either. I love her. And she loves you.”

“Yeah…” She looks down at her hands. “The two of us, tell each other everything. Even that certain l-word.”

Honggi chuckles at her somewhat smug cadence.

“Well, almost everything,” she adds. “We wouldn't be having this conversation if I wasn't a teeny-tiny bit insecure… I don't doubt your love for unnie as much as I thought I did.”

“Well, insecure or not, you should always know that she loves and will always love you, Jiwoo-ssi. I mean, before me, you two always had each other. And you still do… I’m not trying to take that away from you. I’m just grateful I even get to be in this relationship.”

She gives his shoulder a soft pat. “I guess we have another thing in common.”

Feeling somewhat embarrassed by his confession, he can’t help but look to the side, slowly smiling. “We definitely do.”

Just before they can return to their respective places, she switches her gaze from the television and Honggi.

“Hey,” she calls him, taking the remote on the coffee table in front of them. “Wanna watch the next game with me? It starts in ten minutes.”

“I don't know much about hockey.”

She turns the television on without looking. “It really isn't that hard to learn.”

“Umm, sure! First, I'll buy some chicken outside. Do you—”

“Just have it delivered, Honggi-ssi,” she interjects, raising her voice with great elation. “I'm not letting you run away until you actually try to get invested with me.”

= =

Second week. Thursday. It’s already eight in the evening, but Honggi has to take on the second task he has to familiarize himself with, that is if he really wants to know Jiwoo a little more. After taking a seven-minute bus ride to Seongsu-dong, Honggi takes a quick stroll throughout the district until he stops at a place with the nameplate: Velvet Sweets.

Although he’s visited this place a couple of times with Chaeyeon, he opens the door, where he hears the cheerful greeting from a familiar voice at the counter.

“Annyonghashimnika!” Jiwoo bows to him in her green and purple apron. A smile grows from her face when she recognizes him. “Oh… It’s you, Honggi!”

“Hi,” he gives her a slight bow before seizing an empty table nearest to the counter. “So, umm, this must be where the magic happens, huh?” his eyes look around the café—half of the place is still filled with customers. Even their service is still old-fashioned due to his observation of kiosks or order bots being more and more common in other cafés.

“Pretty much… I won’t be out in a while, but you wanna order something? Make yourself comfortable here, at least.”

He gets to spend more time at the café and bakery—or that’s what he had hoped would happen. But then, he realizes that it’ll take a little longer before he can spend time with Jiwoo. Rather than wanting to be a nuisance to his girlfriend’s girl, Honggi stays seated at his own table, keeping himself from stealing glances at the head baker, Jiwoo herself, guiding the subordinates with the growing line. Five minutes in, he pulls out his laptop from his backpack, casually waiting for his large cup of latte macchiato.

Seventeen minutes in, he’s gotten half of his drink while checking on updates of the Jeju Team. When that’s not enough to distract himself from the fact that his girlfriend is still away, and that her girlfriend is also away at her work, he orders a red velvet cheesecake at the counter, which he can’t help but hum in satisfaction during his first four bites. In ten minutes, his plate is empty, leaving only crumbs until the whole thing is fetched by one of the part-timers, who can’t help but steal a few glances at him while Honggi’s eyes remain locked on his laptop.

Later on, the little digital ‘open’ sign beside the front doors had been turned off. An hour and a half has passed since he arrived. Closing his laptop, Honggi cracks his knuckles to see Jiwoo with the two young workers, a man and woman, near the entrance.

“Thank you for the assist, you two… Same time as tomorrow, arasseo? Take care!” Just as the two leave the place with a respectful bow, Jiwoo locks the front doors and rushes to Honggi’s table. “I’m really sorry if I kept you waiting. Deliveries tend to escalate a lot an hour before we close.”

“No, it’s fine.” He stands up, following her at the front of the counter. “But, I did hope I  could offer an extra hand inside the kitchen, but it seems you had enough help in there, so I tried to make myself less creepy in front of everyone else here by ordering a drink.”

She giggles. “Maybe next time. I had a few part-timers who helped me all day. They didn’t have class in the afternoon, so they dropped by after lunch.”

“That makes sense.” He breathes out at her statement. “I should’ve thought of that.”

She shakes her head, before pulling up the chair in front of him to sit on. He has caught her interest. “Come on, now… Why pay a visit on a weekday like tonight?”

“What do you mean? That’s a part of our deal. At least, I promised to visit here. And I will be visiting on Friday and Saturday, if you want.”

“That’s what I was thinking!” she points out with a high pitch. “You have work today—”

“Which ended around six-thirty,” he counters, inadvertently letting out a similar pitch.

“Do you rarely hang out with your friends nowadays or what?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Well…” Slowly, he scratches his head. “I always see them at work, and sometimes after. Besides, they’re dealing with their own businesses too, so I didn’t bother hanging out.”

“Like what? I haven’t heard that much from your friends since the college reunion. Whatever happened to them.”

Of course. His mind reminds him that Jiwoo is still a different person than Chaeyeon. He should never let her feel left out.

“Insoo returned abroad a week after the reunion. Meanwhile, Kangmin’s being a busy househusband, he even brought his wife as a plus one. And he wasn’t the only one!”

Jiwoo nods at him gleefully. “And now that we’re in the reunion talk, how about your old little gang then? I’m sure you guys had a blast seeing each other after five to six years.”

“That’s true… I mean, first of all, Myungsoo and Tone are hitting it off, like finally!”

“Yeah, those two were years overdue,” the woman jubilates in agreement. “I couldn’t be much happier for Tone-unnie and Myungsoo-oppa… You rarely get stories like those in real life.”

“And Junghoon... Well, I would've said that he's just cooking and making tons of won all day, like he usually does, but now, he's actually doing something else in his life. One that is making him happy for once.”

“Yeah, that guy’s one of the few men I really look up to, no offense. Especially with what he’s gone through, he’s had quite a success story. I’m glad that you’ve all stuck together.”

“None taken. He deserves that success like everybody else… And like I said, everyone is living their own lives. Some of them got their own drama. Their own hardships. I mean, some of our friends are gonna be in their thirties in a couple of years!”

“And looking back, I'd say that some things were better back then.”

“I’m guessing that you and Chae were already together back then, right?”

“Yep. We pretty much just fooled around when we were sophomores. We wanted to distance ourselves from our toxic exes. We didn’t even consider entering a hoe phase, because that ain’t our thing… Not long after, we finally became official in senior year.”

“So, you became a thing at the time,” his head slowly nods. “That’s why I missed it.”

“Well, that's odd…” Her eyebrow raises. “Did you take a leave of absence or something?”

“Pretty much… That’s when Junghoon and I first enlisted for military service.”

Her mouth closely opens. “Oooooh… So that’s why Tone-unnie was mostly by herself that year. I must’ve forgotten about that. It makes more sense.”

“Yeah, we kinda felt a little guilty, too, but Jung-ie and Yeonghwan-hyung thought about it first, and I just ended up following him.”

“At least you guys were together to deal with that. I figured it wasn't easy.”

“It definitely wasn’t, but I’d like to say, it was worth it for me personally… But, umm, enough about me. How about you? How was it like being the talk of the campus for a time?”

“As much as I'd like to ‘spill some tea’ about our senior year, we weren’t talked about that much. We might be a lesbian couple, but I don’t think we’re as well known as a couple like Xinyu and Sohyun. We kept ourselves private. We liked it that way.”

“Oh, yeah!” he snaps his fingers with excitement. “They’re one of the campus couples. Like one of the most memorable ones from our previous batch. I wonder what they’re doing nowadays? I only heard Xinyu-sunbae was at the reunion, but I never saw her.”

“She was… And I hate to burst your bubble, but those two aren’t together anymore.”

“Oh… Well, now that I realize it, you can just look up their careers on Naver or Google.”

“That’s more about Xinyu-unnie, but yeah… Even Sohyun-unnie also gets to have a life that everyone can be proud of. I’m sure even her parents are still bragging about her.”

“What about your parents?” he asks with curiosity, although such inquiry becomes enveloped in doubt once he hears himself saying it. “That is, if you don’t mind me asking. I was just curious…”

“Well, if I’m being honest, things are mostly fine and dandy between us.”

The intrigue in his brain is pushing him to ask more about this topic, but he listens on.

“But, the thing is, we never came out to our own parents after graduation. I don't speak for unnie’s parents, but I'd say our parents aren’t as homophobic as we expected they’d be. They’ve always been supportive to me all my life.”

Yet, despite his hesitation, she’s able to read his mind.

“That's impressive...” His head tilts to the side. “And kinda sad… The coming out part taking a little longer, I mean. We're already in the new decade—and some people still see liking someone of the same sex as a problem, you know?”

“That’s true, but I'm happy unnie and I have gone past that phase. And now, well… Let’s just say that it’ll get more complicated.” She looks down, rubbing and warming  the back of her left hand with her right palm. “Not that I see it as a bad thing.”

She has a point, something that makes Honggi think about his parents and siblings too, knowing his relationship isn’t as old-fashioned as whatever they have. Not to mention, his gossipy friends, too. How will he deal with their mouths running around? Still—he shakes off his thoughts about his family. This isn't about me. Not right now anyway.

“I’m glad with most of the way things are now,” she continues. “For better or worse.”

He gives her a pat on her back. “I couldn’t agree more. Mostly for the better, of course.”

“You’re not trying to get in my pants just because we connected more, are you?”

“Nope…” He raises his hands up playfully. “We can just be friends, you know?”

Even to her, that sounds off, but his presence now feels comforting to her. “I like that.”

“It’s nice that I got to know more about my girlfriend and girlfriend-in-law.”

“Yah,” she chuckles at his description, embarrassed enough to put her palm on his hand. “Well… It's really nice knowing you too, boyfriend-in-law.”

By the end of the week, it’s become a tradition for them to often get a video call from their girlfriend, whether it’s from Jiwoo or Honggi’s phone, a conversation that lasts from forty-five minutes to an hour, if not longer, before either of them heads to bed.

“Hey, you two!” Chaeyeon greets them with excitement. “How are my babes doing?”

“You really gonna call us that in the same room?” Jiwoo clenches her teeth.

“That's what you two are!” she insists with a pouty smile, pointing her index finger to each of them from her hotel bedroom.

“I’m fine with it,” Honggi shrugs beside Jiwoo.

“Of course you’re fine with it.” Jiwoo leans closer to the screen. “We’re more like in-laws.”

The man lets out a chortle just hearing her say it out loud. Jiwoo feels she’s been set up.

“In-laws, huh?” Chaeyeon smirks from the screen, her eyes glowing with excitement. “That’s interesting… I see you’ve made some progress!”

“What?” She turns to Honggi in annoyance. “Isn’t that what you came up with?”

“So you like being called that?” he teases her, nudging her right shoulder.

“I tolerate it,” she shrugs, before giving the man a soft sucker punch to his left shoulder, inciting a yelp from Honggi. “But don’t expect me to call you that every single time!”

For the rest of their talk, Jiwoo lets Honggi spill the beans of their weekly update. His question from that night still rings. A part of her wishes she can take her answer back. Right now, though, she’s more than happy that he’s around. Happy that he’s a part of Chaeyeon’s life… And hers—though to what extent is something that she’s still gonna have to figure out by herself.

= = =

Third week. Thursday evening. No hockey games were live on the television for Jiwoo to scream and cheer into. Not even a Disney or local musical for her to sing along to, which yes, Honggi has only recently learned of. Tonight, her brain has gone blank while staring in front of her phone. There’s no sense of awkwardness between them, though, arguably, this unbearable mundaneness inside the living room is just as bad, and being reminded of Chaeyeon’s physical absence even makes it worse for them.

Jiwoo turns her phone off, looking at Honggi. “Do you wanna grab a drink? Or a meal?”

“From the CVS?” His mind is ready to dress up. A habit that has been wired to his brain.

“No, I mean at a bar or club,” she counters, intuitively twirling a few strands of her hair.

“This late at night?” He points his index finger right at the sirens-filled window.

“Where else? I just pointed out those two places.”

“If that's the case, then I’m not too sure about that.”

“I know a place not too far from here. And I'm getting so frickin' bored just staying in here all night.”

“Can’t you just watch another film or a recorded game? I can call us something to eat.”

“Come on, man!” she whines, prompting her to solidify her argument by turning the TV off. “I'm sure you're feeling the same way, aren't you? It’ll be my treat, if you want.”

“Well, I can't deny a free drink…” the man admits, and, with that consideration, closes his laptop. “Yeah, why the hell not?” He cracks his knuckles. “We better dress up now. I don’t wanna wait around the line for too long.”

With a smile and nod, Jiwoo leaves the couch and rushes to her bedroom. Honggi waits, realizing that his duffle bag is inside the room—finding it odd that there’s no glimmer of disappointment in him, only anticipation.

Only an eight-minute walk from their place, the club. He can’t take his eyes off Jiwoo, considering her quite thin outfit. While he’s in the simple combination of a short sleeve polo and pants, the woman is more liberated and carefree with her attire, which actually impresses him. And yet, to make matters worse, Chaeyeon’s words start to echo through him. Persistent words, from a couple of months ago until before she left, flashing back to him in a whiplash.

“It's not the first time we've shared someone... I’m sure you’ve considered that.”

“Take care of our Jiwoo-yah…”

“You… Know what I… mean. Clearly… your junior… does.”

He shakes those thoughts off. Those were Chaeyeon’s words, not Jiwoo’s, you pervert.

Seeing her on the dance floor, Honggi walks towards the woman, but she does him a favor by pulling him in front of her without warning. “You still regret coming along?”

“No, I'm really liking this place,” he professes, slowly moving his body to the slow music. “The interior’s kinda refreshing, unlike most of my experiences with clubs, you know?”

“Let me teach you a few things then,” the woman flaunts her hair as the rhythm of the music intensifies in the background.

In the next half an hour, the pair would take turns of sitting down at the counter stools and going back to the dance floor. Swaying with each other’s arms, grooving with their free spirits and teaching each other several moves with exchanges of smiles and laughs. While his eyes are closed, Jiwoo notices the increase of people entering the dance floor. Following her next instinct, she slowly climbs her long arm on his shoulders and wraps herself around his neck, while her other hand guides the man’s right hand on her waist. Despite this intimate and suggestive gesture, Honggi hopes to forget his intrusive urges by focusing on his continuous locomotive movements.

“You’re quite the dancer,” he chuckles, smoothly following her beat to the music.

“I had a couple of other clubs than just Diamond Dreamers,” she crows with a smirk.

“I can tell… But I’m not even sure I can keep up with you, like you were a while ago.”

“You’re doing just fine!” she guarantees, raising her voice for him to hear her clearly. “Geez… I am far from the best judge of dancing, so as an average clubber—I can say you’ve got moves. I’m more invested with singing anyway.”

“Which you’re already a master at!” he concurs with a wide grin. “I’m not good at either singing or dancing like you are. As far as I'm concerned, I'd say I’m pro at winging stuff, but you’re more than a natural… You make things look easy.”

Jiwoo feels her face warming up, but Honggi’s mix of compliment and self-deprecation still bothers her, knowing it’s more than just about dancing. “Come on, I’m sure you’re good at something! A lot of things. You and unnie work at a broadcasting station. Like one of the most widespread in the country.”

“Yeah, but she’s definitely more capable than me, and I’m proud of her for that. By the way, you do remember that I took hotel management at university, right?”

“That doesn’t mean your degree was useless!” she raises her voice. “We also know that you’re great at communication. You talk to people—you open up yourself to them. You know how to have a heart-to-heart conversation and that’s a rarity in the media these days… So why not take something in that field?”

“That’s actually… Good advice… Huh… Gomawo, Ji.”

She shakes her head as a shy smile forms on her face. “You don’t need to, Honggi… That’s all you. You gotta start seeing what you’re capable of more often.”

As soon as her words melt his heart, the growing crowd begins to overwhelm his other senses. “Woah… I didn’t expect so many people to join this rave. Damn, I don’t think I can actually move around as much this time.”

Her eyes follow his direction. “You’re exaggerating, Honggi… They’re not that many.”

“I know, but I’m still not the best around crowds. I might as well go back to the stool—”

“We’ll just go slower, then…” She tightens her hold of him. “Stay a little closer to me, arasseo?” She keeps her gaze leveled with him. “We’ll be fine.”

Her eyes. Her reassuring smile. Her slower tone. Her tender touch—Ignore them. But he can’t. For some reason, it’s captivating. She's making him feel at ease, especially with the crowd being energetic around them, mindlessly throwing their arms in the air.

“What is this?” He looks around the club. “A gala? An American prom?”

Jiwoo chortles. “With this music? Really?”

“The music’s moving a little slower,” he defends.

“Doesn't mean it's a slow dance. People are still pumped up to this. Hell, I am.”

Her lips. She’s put on lipstick tonight. His ego insists he stops staring at them, with his impulses pushing him to maintain his gaze. His body can only respond with a gulp on his throat.

About two seconds, panic riveting throughout his senses can only force him to find an excuse out of her distance. “I–I'll get us another drink.”

“Oh…” is the only response she can throw at him as he walks away further. “Okay, then.” With her spirits too discouraged to follow him back to the counter, she only has herself to blame. “Way to go…” she mumbles amidst the exhilarating rumbles of the speakers.

The guilt-ridden woman faces the opposite direction, hoping to let herself loose on the dance floor, only to find herself bumping into a man with a similar height. But luck has not found her way, as while her heart is yearning for him to be Honggi, she is met with another familiar face. One that she's been dreading to see. One that she never hoped to see again. “Y–you…”

A mix of anger, fear, and despair begins to boil through her veins. “Well, well,” the man gives her a smile too distasteful for her to forget. “Look who decided to show up again.”

“Funny seeing you here,” she quips, fixing her posture in front of him. “Been a while.”

“Well, what can I say?” the not-so-stranger opens his arms, dominating over his spot on the dance floor even without making any moves unlike the ones around him. “This place has brought back a few good memories. How can you just forget all of those?”

As he stares from afar, Honggi feels compelled to ask—but his hesitations tell him to sit this one out for now. Not everything has to be your business. But it’s Chae’s girlfriend, another voice in his mind rebuts. She may be an independent woman, but that’s your woman’s woman, and some possibly sexually intimidating guy has approached her. His instincts can only warn him: it doesn’t feel right. Whether it’s jealousy or not, he can’t get these two off his mind.

“Those memories were nice, but other ones got in the way…” Jiwoo shoots back. “And now, you clearly can’t take ‘no’ for an answer after I kicked you out of my place.”

“Look, Ji, I didn’t have much of a choice. That open thing was still new to—”

“It was new to everyone we’ve met… Yet you’ve made your choice from the moment you disrespected my girlfriend. The moment you’ve invited your degenerate friend when she didn’t want to see anyone at the time!”

That’s him, his mind has picked up the pieces based on the escalation of their hostility. The man Chaeyeon has told him about. He abandons the pair of bottles at the counter, walking back to the dance floor as the tension between the two escalates in front of his own eyes, witnessing their facades slowly break through their faces and hand gestures.

“Come on, Jiwoo-yah…” The man’s hand holds onto her shoulders, his foul breath is reeking with the bottles he has drunk in the past few hours. “Let’s just talk this out… Chaeyeon-ssi doesn’t know what she’s missing… Hmm? Han’s already backed out—”

With aggression driven by fear, she attempts to shake off her hands of his drunken grip. “Get the fuck out of my face, Cheol. This is your final warning.”

His tone of desperation deepens into resentment, slowly clenching his hold of her. “Not until you tell me to my face and answer my question.”

“What question?” Her voice mirrors her movement, rising with fright and intimidation while feeling the paralysis of his presence.

“You haven’t fallen for any of her boyfriend or girlfriend, have you?”

Hesitation emerges from Jiwoo’s expression as his hand tugs hers with excessive force, stubborn and obsessed to let go of the woman. Her heart pumps faster than usual. She can’t give an answer, especially if it’s gonna give him satisfaction.

“See? I’m sure you’ve slept with your girlfriend’s boyfriends,” Cheol snickers in disbelief. “God, even saying that out loud just sounds ridiculous. If you were only single—”

“Must be a skill difference, then,” Honggi steps forward beside Jiwoo, allowing her to release herself from Cheol’s grip. Her eyes widen at his sudden act. She knows where this is going. An attempt to try to be a hero by diffusing this already boiling situation. “Or maybe you’ve been treating everything like some game.”

Cheol scoffs, but Honggi’s wit and courage impresses him too. He takes more and more steps forward, intimidating Honggi as he cautiously walks backwards in response. “You must be the new one… You got a mouth, don’t you?”

“I’m Honggi.” He tries to keep composure, a lot more than the man confronting him. “You must be Cheol, aren’t you?” For good measure, he extends his right hand.

“So, I assume that Jiwoo’s told you about me?” he jeers, arrogantly ignoring his gesture.

“Nah,” he lets out a chuckle. “I just thought it was obvious.” One that gives even Honggi an ick as it reaches his ears.

“Really?” Cheol maintains his composure. “Not even a word from her chatty and busty girlfriend, Chaeyeon? Oh, is it your girlfriend too? I get things confused. Don’t you?”

Honggi’s blood begins to boil, both his fists slowly clenching on his legs. “Not me.”

As irritation builds up in his veins, the man deepens his voice. “That bitch is toying with you. They both are.”

Even his toes clench inside his shoes. But Honggi crosses his arms, shaking his head in contempt. “I think only a primitive wouldn’t understand something that simple, dude. Well, no… Even a caveman would probably have more respect and chivalry than you… Maybe that’s why you still get no ladies.”

Striking a nerve, the aggressor snaps out with an irritated grunt. Before his senses can warn him, Honggi takes a sucker punch from Cheol to the right side of his face.

“Honggi-ssi!” Jiwoo screams in agitation. Her left leg takes a large step forward, only to be held back by the customers beside her, who warn her that it’s too late and dangerous to intervene. “But it’s my friend, let me go!”

“Call the bouncer.” With a worried tone, the one on her right advises another bystander.

“Just stay back, Jiwoo,” he tells her, extending his right arm to her with his palm open. However, her mind and movements tell her not to follow his advice. “I can handle this, just—” Feeling a tingle from his skin, Honggi looks back at the attacker.

As Cheol charges towards him a second time with a hostile bellow, Honggi sidesteps, quickly raising his fists, and retaliates with a quick but solid jab right to his left cheek using his left fist, pushing the former to the other side of the crowd. And despite their instincts catching him, the same witnesses almost immediately take a few steps back.

With his right knuckle, Cheol wipes off the blood on his lips. A smirk forms. “Not bad…”

In his slouched position, he lunges at Honggi a second time, but fortunately for the latter, his focus is locked on him. Catching his fist, they enter a struggle, their arms clinching in defense while Cheol tries to inflict a second damage against him.

“You never know when to quit, do you?” he taunts him. “You should’ve listened to her.”

Thank God, most of his military training has worn off yet. Otherwise, he'd be eating his own words and more of the man’s fists all night. Though things are not looking the best for him either, as they’re stuck in this grapple, while his attacker keeps throwing lighter dirty punches on his body using his left hand. He takes a few hits on his gut and elbows, triggering a few coughs of agony from Honggi while he strategizes his next move at him. He’s not just fighting for himself, he just doesn’t want to hear him say anything foul and ill against his girlfriend and her girlfriend, no matter how confusing that might sound in others’ heads.

“Well, I can say the same thing with you…” Honggi throws back, as he blocks a major hit from hitting his chest. “She’s not interested, buddy. Pretty sure she was clear with that.”

“Leave him the hell alone,” Jiwoo roars, having returned to the crowd.

Cheol turns his head to her. “Or what? You’re gonna call your girlfriend back at your—”

With a window of opportunity now opening to his eyes, Honggi manages to let go of his hands off his shoulders and lowers on the floor. Sliding his right leg, he sweeps Cheol’s legs off the ground. He tumbles on the floor, allowing the former to run back to Jiwoo while his attacker groans in pain and confusion. The woman holds onto him tightly, agitated by the look of his face. “Just stay beside me… Bouncers are on their way.”

Even with a bloody nose, plus bruised lips, cheekbone, and ego, the attacker lets out one taunting laugh from his supine position. “You think that little wooing quest of yours will last? You'll end up like me.” His fist clenches. “Like everyone else they’ve dumped.”

Honggi walks toward him with some caution, though fear has left his system. “At least, I’ll know when to stop. I’m not one who lashes out when I get rejected.”

Just before the security guard can break them up, Jiwoo comes running at the risen Cheol with a blare and swift right jab directly to his face. That’s a knockout for him.

“He’s nothing like you, asshole,” she chimes in, glaring at his unconscious body getting carried and dragged out by his pals, holding both of his shoulders as they ditch the club, while another bouncer sees them off until they're no longer within their distance.

An hour later, they took a taxi back to Chaeyeon and Jiwoo’s apartment, where they’re having a talk about the incident. “I'm not pressing charges,” she tells him, pulling out an ointment med kit. “And neither should you.”

“What?!” Honggi takes out the ice pack on his cheek, letting his other fingers touch his own face, until he feels a cut on his chin. “Ow…”

“Careful, I just patched that up.” She rubs another dap of ointment on his bruise.

“I mean, like why not press charges?” he clarifies, putting the ice pack back on his face.

“You said it was my call,” she points out. “Unless you really want me to press charges.”

“No, no…” He pinches his nose, thankfully untouched during the fight, unlike Cheol’s. “You don't have to, but it's not about that, Jiwoo…”

“What else is it about then? Cheol was the assailant. He was guilty and his friends should know that. If that still isn’t enough, there were a lot of witnesses at the place. They even got their faces on camera... Also, he's been blacklisted there since tonight.”

“It’s good that they’re consistent with their security, but do you think that’s gonna be enough to keep them out of your sight?”

“He’s not gonna come back… Even if he or his friends do show up, I know people.”

Her delivery sends shivers through his spine. “They’re not like hitmen, are they?”

“Nothing violent of any kind,” she answers him. “Plus, you’ve given him enough hell… I don’t think I’m that worth fighting for.”

That touches a sore spot in him, seeing herself like that. “What makes you say that?”

“He was fighting for his pride and ego. You were…” She stops for a second, scanning his bruised face. For a split second, her eyes look down his lip. They're contused like half of his face, yet she can't take her eyes off them. She looks up to his eyes, which makes her swallow her throat. Why am I feeling this now? her mind gripes, feeling that rhythm.

Honggi's head slowly tilts, cautious by her delay. “I was what?”

“A bit reckless… Yeah, that’s what you were tonight.” Her volume rises as her cadence hardens through his conflicting reprimand. “You gave in to your male ego, and look where that got you.”

With a deep sigh, he can only stare at the blank space, clueless on what to say next. “You’re right,” he admits. But I didn’t regret that, his mind adds.

“Look,” she continues with a sigh. “I don't like it when people I care about get their way, getting themselves into trouble, just to defend me.”

People I care about... those four words echo through his mind. “Why not?”

“It's primitive, it’s reckless. Like what you said earlier, which is ironic.”

“He wasn’t gonna stop harassing you.”

“Well…” She holds him on his right shoulder. “I can take care of myself, Honggi.”

“I know you can.” He gives her shoulder a soft fist bump. “You really gave him a nice knuckle sandwich to the face, too.”

“Thanks. I, uhh, learned that technique from a good friend,” she humblebrag, raising her clenched fist. “So you know I was capable of defending myself from that goon.”

“Yeah, but I was already there,” he continues. “You're just gonna have to get used to it.”

“I was gonna say that you should've used your words more, but I doubt those cavemen were gonna get the memo. Just consider yourself lucky his friends didn't join the party that much before the bouncers came. Well, they were distracting the guards the whole time, but you get what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know... Plus, I'll get in more trouble if Chaeyeon finds out that her girlfriend got hurt, especially when I happened to be there.”

“But in return, her boyfriend did get hurt.” Her voice almost cracked.

Even hearing the tremble in Jiwoo’s voice makes him feel a fissure in his heart.

“I'll handle her reaction. Let's just keep it low for now. Maybe until tomorrow.”

”Fair enough,” she places her right cheek on her palm. “Let’s make that until Saturday… I wouldn't wanna get on unnie's bad side, either.”

They both have a hearty laugh at her sentiment.

“Thanks, Honggi-ssi. I, uhh, I appreciate what you did... Even if it was a bit reckless, you were pretty badass there too with your leg sweep.”

He laughs at her compliment, before the silence ensues their distance once again.

With it, Jiwoo can only listen to her own heartbeat, growing louder and louder while she maintains her gaze with him. But she wants the sound to shut up and slow down, so she leans closer to his lips.

Honggi cups her chin, continuing what she started, captivated and intoxicated not by the alcohol, but by her lips and her taste, which ironically enough, also tastes like her drink. With their eyes closed, this pair can only feel each other's lips, something their girlfriend’s felt hundreds of times. Only this time, she tastes the metallic of his wound, with the hint of sweetness still enthralling her to explore the rest of his mouth.

After a minute, Jiwoo slowly tugs on to his shoulders, which ends their sizzling moment. Their eyes meet for a second, but a hint of guilt and embarrassment strikes into Jiwoo's heart, which compels her to let her hands go off his.

“Mianhae…” she mutters, looking down on the couch while she catches her breath.

Honggi is just as bewildered. Her move gave him whiplash, but his heart only knows one reaction to it. He went into the kiss too, after all. “It's okay. But, you should get washed… And head to bed, that is if you want to... It's just, it's already late and all.”

“Oh, right.” She gets up from the couch. “Of course.”

Jiwoo rushes into her room, while Honggi takes out his phone from his pocket. He locates his chat with Chaeyeon. After a deep sigh, he begins typing a new message.

= = =

The next day. Friday. Not much has happened. The bruises on Honggi's face have made some improvement, though he still had to make up an excuse at work that he tripped on his face while rushing through the subway. Of course, nobody was fully convinced by his story, but it made for an entertaining conversation between his friends and colleagues. He has yet to come up with a convincing story to his family, but he still has another week to brainstorm or just await the inevitable before they visit his apartment.

At the bakery, Jiwoo burned two orders. Thankfully, they weren't detrimental enough. “Why not just take the day off, Jiwoo-yah…” her manager advised her. “You are lucky Kim-daepyonim isn’t paying a visit this week. She still holds you in high regard.”

“Ne, Sajangnim.” Jiwoo keeps her guilt-ridden gaze on the floor. “Joesonghamnida.” She bows to the older woman for the third time. “It won’t happen again.”

“Is it because of the man?” she throws the question, her pitch slightly higher.

“Huh?” She looks at her in an instant. “What man?”

“Well, I’m told he’s one who paid a visit here last week. The guy your girlfriend is seeing, if I’m not mistaken. He was here even before that.”

“Who told you—?” Her tone becomes frantic. “Was it the part-timers?”

The manager laughs at her almost state of panic, giving her a pat on her left shoulder. “Don’t worry… I won’t pry on it too much. They don't know much anyways.”

Realizing her own overreaction, Jiwoo slowly scratches the side of her hair. “Was it that obvious, unnie?”

Later that night, Honggi stayed over at the apartment once again, but he didn't say anything. Not about what happened last night, anyway.

From the single chair next to the couch, Jiwoo kept her stare at the screen in the last ten minutes, but she’s not focusing on the players, or the game, as much as she usually does. Meanwhile, Honggi’s on the kitchen table, scrolling his laptop with his wireless mouse, scrolling and scrolling through the blank spreadsheet of his document without a clear and coherent and moving thought in his brain—Except for one.

Muting the TV, she breaks the cold silence. “Look, about what happened last night—”

“I know, Jiwoo…” He gulps his throat. “It doesn’t have to change anything… Right?”

“Of course not,” Jiwoo answers him with a nervous chuckle. She wants to take it back.

Is that what either of them want? And yet, despite Honggi’s interjection, the man walks towards her—without a word—while she watches him sit on the couch, facing her. Jiwoo knows she can no longer ignore that beat. That thumping louder and louder inside her chest can no longer be deafened by the sounds of upbeat music. She doesn’t say a word either, paralyzed by her heartbeat. Honggi is feeling not too different, but his hesitation still holds back what he urges to do. Then a thought whispers into his mind, what more do I have to lose? If she rejects me, I will take it like a man. Chaeyeon will understand.

With a short heave, the man leans his face closer into her, making the move this time. His lips touch hers, closing his eyes for a moment, only to break it a few seconds later. Slowly, he opens his eyes, bracing himself for the woman’s reaction. A slap, or a much more painful dead silence.

Jiwoo only pulls him back to her lips, wrapping her arms around his neck, like she used to on the dance floor. Fuck, she deduces. I want him, who cares if I seem to be rushing things? In Honggi’s mind, his thoughts now revolve around one realization: I need her.

They break their moment, finding the time to breathe out with their wide smiles.

“This is gonna complicate things more, won’t it?” he leans his forehead with hers.

“Yes and no…” she counters, giving him another, quicker kiss. “Not for us, anyway.”

Combined with her daring look, Jiwoo’s warm breath reaching his face just made his body tingle. “You know what? Let’s not think about that now.”

“I agree,” she giggles, right before she goes in for his lips once again.

Giving up their mental restraints, they’re both irresistible to each other. Their presence. Their touch. Their taste. Their minds submits to their bodies, giving into their libidinal urges towards each other. Ones that they were too afraid to act on, despite their lover’s subtle insistence and approval from time to time.

The pair break their kiss after a moment, leaving a string of saliva, gasping for air while their face is left with a moment of awe and euphoria. Jiwoo’s fingernails remain clawed through his chest, thankfully not enough to damage the fabric or pierce his skin.

“I, uhh, I’m kinda getting sick of the bed,” she admits, staring at their bedroom door from afar and taking a careful look back at the clean mattress. “No offense to you or unnie. I just really don’t wanna keep getting our bed rewashed every two weeks.”

“Gwenchana, Jiwoo-yah. I understand.” He looks around the room before facing her, unsure about where her mind will go, or where they will go, to be exact. “Do you have anywhere else in mind?”

Hearing his question, her cheeks begin to blush hot red. “A few… But I have one now.”

Jiwoo jumps on Honggi, joining him on the leather couch. With Jiwoo on top and Myungsoo on the bottom, their lips remain intact and tongues keep clashing in rhythm like they are stuck on a frozen pole, only their saliva keeping each other’s touch heated and humid even amidst this breezy night. Their fingers seize this opportunity to traverse each other’s bodies reclined on the cushion for the first time.

His hands scan her back, feeling her breasts and hips, until they’ve reached her shorts, igniting a series of giggles and titters from both of them. Such a habit from Jiwoo’s has always sparked a few reactions from Honggi. Rarely has it annoyed him. And strangely enough, it always aroused him in the past month and a half. Maybe even a little longer.

“Don’t beat around the bush…” she mutters, prompting him to only answer with a nod.

He takes off his shorts and then his underwear in front of her. Their makeout continues, as Honggi gently demonstrates his dominance over Jiwoo by guiding her head and lying instead before digging his fingernails on the couch—beneath the foundation of his arms. With excitement, she waits for his next move.

With only her eyes of approval, his cock enters her clean-shaven cunt. It is thanks to his own precum that his entry becomes less ragged. “Oh, goodness,” she moans, prompting her to wrap her arms around his waist like a seatbelt.

“You’re so big,” Jiwoo groans under her breath, slowly pinching on his skin like it’s a pin cushion, a prickling feeling that he surprisingly takes well. Much, much bigger than any of my toys, she thinks to herself. Or unnie’s. Should I buy a new—maybe a bigger one? Fuck it, stop thinking.

“And you’re so tight,” Honggi retorts with a smirk. She exhales a chuckle, feeling some lightheadedness with his whole cock now inside her vaginal walls, plunging in and out, which she’s feeling even from her stomach. Within the guy’s mind, a part of him starts the comparison between his lovers, but he grunts those thoughts off by letting his own member begin his powered swings back and forth.

They now move through a common rhythm, thrusting and grinding against each other’s bodies, their years of carnal experience culminating through the clapping of their skins and clashing of their tongues, relishing the assortment of flavors they’ve had from their late night snacks and drinks. They would taste the hint of iron in his own mouth, which alerts him, giving him an idea to wash it off more. But she, much like a vampire, cannot care less. Her arms remain gripped to his shoulders whenever she feels his urge to pull out of some hesitation. Jiwoo’s ego considers this as a reward, but her primal side just wants more of it. More of him. In her subconscious, she wants to prove that she cares too. That she hungers for him as they do for Chaeyeon. More than most of her exes in the past five years.

Their growing moans begin to reverb, echoing at their faces along with their skins.

He’s mine! her mind crazes, letting her hips maintain her grinds, even challenging herself to move against the current of his thrusts. He’s fucking ours!

Now that momentum has been achieved, the man is compelled to take the initiative, increasing his thrusts by an inch as he grunts with every force he delivers. With his continued pumps, deeper into her chambers, he starts to reach her sensitive spots.

As both of them had expected, they would spend the following minutes upping the ante of their session finding ways to accelerate each other’s stimulation from this limited yet exciting and familiar position. Moving her hands further down, Jiwoo holds onto his ass cheeks and gives both of them a squeeze, triggering a moan from her lover. “What the…”

But the longer she holds his cheeks with her palms, the stronger his pumps get. As soon as one starts to reach their limit, their voices become more intelligible at the expense of their breaths running out second by second. Jiwoo’s moans start to crack the same way her voice would.

“Oh–oppa…” she mutters next to his ears. This is the first time she’s called him that.

“Ye—yeah?” Honggi answers, finding the moment to fix her unkempt strands of hair amidst their rocking bodies, yearning to see her striking face.

“I’m not… Safe today!” she brings up, her tone of panic blending with her vibrating voice while still grinding on his hips, unable to stop herself from taking delight in their union. Her mind is too lightheaded to focus as her volume of stimulation overflows. “And I—”

Right, how could he forget? He’s been thinking with this dick more than his own brain, now they're in this kerfuffle. Nevertheless, he shakes his worst fears off and improvises the closest solution while his thrusts remain on autopilot.

“It’s… Okay,” he huffs, pepping a few kisses on her cheeks while maintaining his thrusts. Enticed by her scent, he himself is feeling the buildup inside his shaft. “Fuck, uuuhhh…”

Even his mere pecks add into her gratifying sensations. “Mmmnnggghhh…” she quivers, biting into his left shoulder right before she yelps and screams, “Imma—I’m—I’m close!”

Heeding the woman’s thunderous plea and grunting into the pressure of her teeth on his shoulder, Honggi quickly pulls his cock out of her entrance just in time as the stream of seed bursts out of him in the next five seconds. Jiwoo cups his cheek and kisses him in delight, listening to his member shooting his cum, until it slows down, like a waterfall.

As most of his load lands on her belly or the couch, Jiwoo takes a good amount of his semen on her palm into her mouth like warm and salty congee. She gulps it down her throat, wiping off traces of cum on her lips with her right thumb, something that captivates Honggi further, only chortling at her final act. Returning to the realm of silence, they lie on the couch next to each other, with Jiwoo heaving on the right edge and Honggi on the left, his right arm dangling over the floor. It’s a miracle they even managed to fit in together.

Ten minutes have passed, yet Honggi still can’t get what she just said out of his mind. Their lips part to catch their breaths, but Jiwoo—with her eyes of hunger and hands of desperation—only pulls him in for another session after their three seconds of breather.

When his breath eases up, he brings it up. “Chamkaman… What do you mean by few?”

“You’ll see…” A smirk forms on Jiwoo’s face. That teasing smirk that always gets him. “Well, if you’re up for it.”

He lets out a wheeze in disbelief. “She expected this, you know?”

“Yeah… I hate that she’s right sometimes,” she admits. “Well, most of the time.”

His curiosity arises from her remark. “About what?”

“That you really are vanilla,” she shoots back with a taunting gaze and wide laughter.

His head tilts, his eyes squinting. In his heart, as if a dart has struck it, particularly his myocardium, somehow it accelerates his pumps, despite being perfectly still. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“Compliment, dummy… But then again, I was honestly kinda expecting something else.”

He can only pout, making himself ponder about what he could've possibly done wrong during their first time. The woman sees the descent of enthusiasm on his face, and she finds it cute, seeing him just as invested in this passionate exchange as she is. Yet, she doesn’t want to rub him the wrong way with her playful attitude.

“That being said…” she continues, tiptoeing her fingers down to his nether regions. “Unnie also told me not to underestimate you… How about we find out?”

The man’s eyebrow slowly raises; his cock would follow. A smirk follows on his face.

“Your wish is my command,” he pledges to the woman. “What do you want, Jiwoo?”

She leans closer next to his left ear, her smile mirroring his with anticipation.

“Take my ass, oppa.” She didn’t have to, but she knows that it intensified the effect.

Traveling from his spine to his shaft, fear and wonder came to him. “Huh?”

Her eyes can sense the conflict through his. “You don’t have to if you’re scared—”

“No, no,” he interjects. His masculine ego just takes over. “Of course, I’d like that.”

“I have some lube at the nightstand…”

The man does what she’s requested. Honggi runs to their bedroom, rummaging through the nightstand for the box of condoms. He opens up a packet, wearing it as quickly as he can, followed by him holding the silicone-based lube next to the box. By his observation the bottle is almost half empty and maybe a couple of months old, but that bothers him little. Instead, such a finding only adds up to his curiosity about his partners. He opens the lid, squeezing a few drops on his shaft and wears the opened condom next. He then gives it another squeeze, spreading the smear around the thin latex protecting his cock.

Just imagining the feel of Jiwoo’s touch and the glory of her body, which he’s felt, makes him lean his head backwards, but before he can moan, he reminds himself, This isn't the real thing. He snaps himself back to reality. Don't leave her hanging outside, dumbass!

He takes a look at the oval mirror on the desk, straightening his posture and taking a deep breath as he whispers, “You can do this.” Not wanting to keep Jiwoo waiting, he runs back to the living room, where he is welcomed by the woman in her sensational naked figure. She stands up from her seat, also salivating on the view in front of her.

“You don't have to rush.” Jiwoo’s smile widens. “I'm not going anywhere...”

He scoffs at her tease, approaching her with his fully erect cock. “Okay, it’s done. Should you bend over now or?”

“Oh, no… Not that…” she holds his hand with such speed. “I, uhh, I’d like to look at you.”

“Oh…” Now, he feels his face warming up and his heartbeat consistently elevating at the sight of her genuine request. “Of course. Sure. Let’s do it front then.”

Just as she feels her lips curling upwards, Jiwoo gives him another kiss, something that neither of them can resist nor can ever get tired of. She breaks it so she can tell him “I'll help you put it in.”

They both sit on the sturdiest middle of the couch, placing their legs around each other. His tip can feel the hole he just entered moments ago. He’s tempted, but that's not what she wants. Jiwoo spreads and raises her legs—holding each with her hands for a second. Thanks to some semblance of willpower and the woman’s effort, his member aligns with her asshole thanks to his straightened and sensitive shaft—now finding her hole clearly.

“Right there,” she affirms, exhaling with a sense of bliss with his tip. “That’s the spot.”

They both take a deep breath at the same time, much to each other’s surprise.

With meticulous eyes and movement, Honggi slides his erect shaft into her hole.

It’s definitely a lot tighter than the woman’s cunt. The woman releases a whimper. On the bright side, the process has become much smoother, thanks to Jiwoo's suggestion.

He sees her face, as it starts to pour with sweat. “You alright?” he worries.

Reacting with a rapid nod, she keeps her eyes closed and her lips bitten, much like her anal walls tightening around his resilient cock. “Just—keeeeep—ngnhhgnhh—going…”

With a soft grunt, he nods, pulling her while pushing himself deeper. If he never had lube, she would have a lot harder time taking in. Even now, his shaft is only halfway.

Each of his hands on her ass cheeks, holding them firm like it’s cake. And much like dough, he kneads them. Spreading her opening as his member penetrates deeper. The pace of his thrusts begin to quicken within her ass. With a burst of yelp from the woman, he knows that he’s reached her first “A-spot.” Hopefully, it won’t be the last as he pushes his cock upwards, forcing the woman to lean her body backwards, her legs still in the air.

“Oh, God!” she squeals, digging down her fingernails into his back, but he’s too aroused by the tight sensation to feel an ounce of pain or irritation. “Please… Nnnngghhh…”

His cock reaches the deepest region of her anal chambers, the deepest he can plunge into. But he shouldn’t have much of a problem with going further. She wants ‘this’ to stay, and she demonstrates her simultaneous hunger and pleasure by hugging him tighter, feeling her own breasts colliding into his chest, squeezing even, as if their bodies keep on merging and parting like their nethers.

Inside, he proceeds to motion his member backwards and forwards, like a pendulum, with Jiwoo singing a much higher note as her insides are slowly getting stretched out with ethereal exhilaration. “Fuck, this is… This is the best,” she whimpers.

With a strenuous force and a solidified girth, his shaft transforms into a battering ram, striking more and more of her more sensitive spots around her sticky constricting hole. Adding a new trick, Honggi shoves his open mouth right into her left breast, prompting a moan from his partner while she feels his saliva coating her nipple and plump mound. Both his movements strike a balance between roughness and gentleness to her pleasure. After several minutes of thrusting inside Jiwoo’s ass, he finally gives it his all once more, busting his load a second time inside his condom while the woman cries with pleasure in reaching her anal orgasm, continuously squirting fluids from her vagina.

Seeing her discharge simmering down, Honggi pulls his cock out, standing up before landing on the opposite side of the couch. Jiwoo returns to a sitting position, echoing her partner’s pants. They catch their breath for the second time. Honggi’s gaze trails down at her bottom before their eyes meet.

“Does it still hurt?” His fingers gently caress her plump and sweating rim.

“That’s the thing…” she scoffs in disbelief. “It didn’t. It was big, but you took your time.”

“That’s good to know… I’m glad I, uhh, satisfied you enough. The lube helped, big time.”

“Are you kidding?” she wheezes. “You did so well. Cut yourself some slack.”

“Really?” That’s his first time, although now isn’t the time he wants to admit such a fact. Deep down, she's aware that is the case, but she doesn't wanna burst out his bubble. It is already a wild weekend for both of them–yet they’ve managed to end it on a higher note.

“Mm-hmm…” she places her hand on his cheek, finding warmth on its surface.

“Well, thanks, I guess..?” He scratches his head. “But, we should definitely stop now.”

“Don’t you want a third one?” she huffs. “They say the third time’s a charm, right?”

He shakes his head, exhaling a chortle. “You horny-ass woman…”

“Fine, fine!” she whines in defeat. “I’m a bit too tired to continue, anyway.”

“I knew it,” he teases, before sighing with satisfaction. “Let’s call it a night.”

She echoes him with a longer exhale. “Arasseo… Thank you, oppa…”

He leans in on her forehead, giving it three rapid smooches. “Anytime, Jiwoo-yah.”

They slowly close their eyes, submitting into the soothing void of their worn out minds as the air conditioner continues to blow more breeze that will comfort them til sunrise.

= = = =

This Saturday morning lives up to the season of summer. Finding bliss in the kiss of the sunlight rather than irritation, it has become an ideal time for the pairing to explore. As early as ten in the morning, they’ve been out strolling at the Han River Park, right after taking a checkup at the nearest clinic and buying medications for his injuries.

“Wait, if the bakery's closed today and now that my checkup is done, are you gonna give me a reason why we've dressed up and have been traveling outside all day—like a bunch of old farts?”

“Old farts?” she jeers at his specific description. “Speak for yourself.”

“I’m just a year old—Are you gonna give me an answer or not? Not even a hint?”

“You'll see,” she goads him. Her smirk only rubs more salt in his figurative wound.

“You’ve been such a tease ever since we did it!” he whines.

“You can stay at the apartment, if you want,” she nonchalantly remarks.

“Maybe I will,” he swallows a humph, hoping it will incite another reaction.

“Hey, come on, now… Do you not want a date with me or not?” she shoots back.

A huff of air leaves Honggi’s mouth. His voice tones down into desperation. Of course, he doesn’t want things to end just as it began. He didn’t even realize this was a date to begin with. “I, uhh, of course, I want that… Just lead the way.”

They would take a trip across the park, even though his partner-in-crime hadn't told her much about her plans. On their first destination, the two had taken a walk to a pathway covered with shade trees, a location that Jiwoo had considered meticulously throughout their five-minute stroll.

“We’ve been walking her for a while, so just cut to the chase.”

Her head wanders around the locale, inspecting the surroundings of any other soul or even eyes from above that may be lurking. “This seems like a good spot, doesn't it?”

“For sightseeing?” His eyes follow her gaze. “If you want more trees to look at up close, sure, I guess… Why can’t we just be in a more open area, like the one we just walked by this whole time?”

Her eyes roll to the side. She pulls him closer to her until they’re now in an isolated spot. Behind a cluster of trees and surrounded by wide and tall bushes that cover their entire body. A scenario like this is what he’d only imagine in a sex comedy or a manhwa. She pins him to the rough bark, attacking his lips with her own. Honggi doesn’t stop her, focusing only on devouring her lips and sliding his fingers down her waist and hips.

And right before he can turn the tables, the woman breaks their kiss, hungrily leaving a few hickeys on his neck, before kneeling down as she begins to unbuckle his belt.

Out of panic and instinct, he holds her hands to stop her scheme. “What are you doing?”

She gets up, but her hands latch on to the man’s waist. “We can stop, if that’s what you want, but I thought you went along with it.”

“I, uhh, thought we're just gonna make out,” he admits, stealing a few glances at her lips.

“Really?” she chuckles. “That's oddly romantic.”

“Is this your idea of a date?” he questions her back.

“Not usually…” Her delivery descends with less enthusiasm. “But, I needed a moment to blow off some steam this weekend… I just thought you'd consider it too, after everything that happened.”

He nods in silence, letting her do her work. Honggi realizes that she also needs this as much as he wants it. “I did consider it—but let's just keep things a little quiet, Jiwoo.”

“That’s supposed to be my line, but sure,” Jiwoo’s smile arises, encouraged to go on with pulling down his pants, landing on the smooth grass. On her knees once again, she pulls him down a little further, making him slouch a little. Once all is set in place, the woman stares at his manhood in wonderment, slowly rising in front of her eyes like a balloon. “Hello to you, again…”

Her sucking him off behind a bush is definitely not what he has expected, but to him, it’s a moment that’s ten levels better than a picnic with his closest friends—even though that is also a lovely idea for another time. What about him being with her and Chaeyeon? Oh, that one is giving him another reaction. He shakes the idea off before his cock—Too late.

Honggi tries to muffle those thoughts, holding onto her bun as he continues fucking her mouth. Jiwoo coordinates with his crazed and rough grip, moving in and out of his cock with smoothness, thanks to her near-endless saliva dripping out of her muffled piehole. Minutes go by, and Honggi has lost track of his surroundings, his senses dwindling into a state of ecstasy, losing all sense of awareness in favor of stimulation.

“I’m—gonna. Ugggghhh. I’m close,” he groans, keeping one hand clawed on his partner’s bun with his other holding onto the tree bark. Mustering up his last charges of strength, Honggi gives five more primal thrusts on her mouth as his load finally blows on his sixth, shooting straight to her tongue and throat.

She swallows them all, allowing his ears to clearly catch on a hearty gulp from her throat and a few coughs despite his almost blurry vision. Such a heavenly aftermath makes him pat her head like she’s some kind of a pet, before pulling her on her shoulders so she can stand up.

With no drop sperm left to drip on the grass, he pulls in his boxer and zips his pants up, collecting one's thoughts while ignoring his semi-erect bulge, hoping for time to just let it deflate later on. “Holy shit… That’s, uhh, that’s one way to start the morning.”

As a chuckle leaves her mouth, she wipes off the stains of cum on her lips. She feels her own stomach rumbling. “It’s almost eleven-thirty, oppa. Don’t you wanna have lunch?”

“I’m good with that. But are you sure you don’t wanna get yourself cleaned first?”

“I’m fine. A restaurant isn’t that far from here. I’ll just wash for a bit once we get there.”

They would take a walk to the restaurant, hoping to cool themselves down after that surprise sexcapade. Or rather, that was the plan. Nevertheless, they made it, picking their seats to a table about a few feet away from the unisex restroom. Jiwoo led him.

Almost soaked in their own sweat from their own improvised chase, Honggi feels his pits dampened under his shirt, but the luxurious quality of the aircon breeze flowing across the restaurant, as well as their orders, makes them forget about the heat they endured outside. Roughly an hour later, they find themselves stuffed to the fullest.

“Was your food good?” he asks back, placing his fork on the now empty plate.

“Oh, no doubt,” Jiwoo takes a sip of her iced tea. Her hair is now undone.

“Those arancini and scallops were exquisite… And man, this carbonara is to die for!”

“You’re being dramatic, you know that?” she snickers, finding his remarks fascinating.

“We didn’t have breakfast, Jiyu,” he grumbles. “Of course, I’d be bonkers over lunch.”

“That’s a fair point.” She leans back. “But I gotta admit… It’s not as good as your cum.”

His eyes pop out of his head. “Jiwoo-yah!”

She giggles at his outburst. He knows how mischievous she can be, but even in public? Her attitude is something not even Chaeyeon and he would've dared to attempt, aside from a few suggestive flirtations they’ve exchanged.

The woman wipes her lips with her napkin and sips down the last of her iced tea before  standing up, unconcerned about the few drops dripping down her chin. “Follow me in the restroom.”

“What?” he asks, finding himself partially paralyzed with such a sudden instruction. “Come again?”

“That’s the idea,” she answers. “Or don’t… Your choice,” she shrugs, turning her back with a straight face. Honggi follows her five minutes later, rushing to her with caution.

Rawdogging someone from behind inside a bathroom stall used one of his old fantasies. Chaeyeon has told him several things about Jiwoo before he became closer with her, but nothing about their private times. Now that he’s also with the latter, he realizes that it is better that way. She's fucking wild, he repeats in his mind in the last seven minutes of their stay, as if that's not obvious enough as he enables her with his perverted spirits.

“Keep… it… down,” he grunts, pounding on Jiwoo’s cunt; her skirt hanging on the hook.

Hearing her noises still growing in volume, he puts his two of his fingers into her mouth to muffle her moans. Oddly enough, it's only turning him on with her salivating over his hands, despite just having their hearty meal. Both parties begin to feel sweat pouring all over their body the harder they move in rhythm.

“Fuck, you're such a bad girl,” Honggi grunts with his hips plowing through. “I can’t… Get enough… of you.”

“Me—nggghhhh—neither,” Jiwoo mumbles, slobbering over his ring and middle finger like he’s fingering her cunt, something that’s been on his mental list for a few hours.

Even with her additional movement, Honggi keeps his left hand on her hips, balancing his speed and strength. But his ardor tempts him to take a daring risk, taking his slimy hands off her mouth so he can slap her left cheek, like a whip hitting a stallion’s flank.

“Fuck!” The woman yelps with her eyes closed as another wave of pleasure reverberates through her body, alerting the man enough to keep his hand back to her mouth. “Did it hurt?” Honggi leans closer, removing his palm off her.

“A little… but I love it,” she says with a few rapid nods. “Can you do… a few more?”

As soon as she takes his hands back to her mouth, he smacks her bum two more times, one for each cheek. Jiwoo muffles her high pitched moans through his palm, removing right after she has kept her together while he continues plowing her with all his might.

“I’m on the pill today, oppa,” she continues, showing her shameless smile to him.

“I'm getting—ugh—close…” Pleasure and disappointment clash as he feels the seminal build up on his shaft. “Fuck! Why am I…. so… fast… today?”

“Just… let it out,” she exhales, transferring her mouth on his thumb like it’s his own tip.

Eight minutes in, his stamina starts to run out the more he’s pumping. “How about—”

Even with a shorter breath, she shushes him. “Just… let it out… Hngggghhhhh!”

“Oh, fuck!” He groans, as two seconds later, his warm load streams inside her, allowing his semen to overflow beyond her hole while Jiwoo audibly moans with relief.

From her bent position, he pulls her up. “You still regret tagging along this morning?” she asks him. He snickers, remembering that same question again.

“Not… Anymore,” he submits, unable to outwit her while still recollecting his thoughts.

Jiwoo crashes her lips into his for a moment. “I’ll pay the bill. It’s the least I can do.”

“I already did,” he retorts, returning her kiss. “Before I headed here.”

“Awww…” she coos, slowly nuzzling his chest with her nose. “Such a gentleman.”

“If I only waited for you, then I would've actually considered myself one.”

She fixes his collar. “Don’t sweat it, oppa. I wanted to edge myself a little… “You and—” Her fingers trail up his bulge, feeling the girth of his still hardened cock. “—your junior here still got more chances back at our place, hmm?”

The woman takes his left hand, taking his fingers underneath her skirt. Slowly, he feels a sticky sensation, which is now leaking on her thighs. The man’s eyes widen, realizing it’s not only his sperm that came out. I didn’t fail her, his ego rejoices as his soft smile turns into a grin in seconds. This is far from over.

And yet, as soon as they returned to the apartment, they would receive an alarming call on Honggi’s phone. One that they would take seriously due to her earth-shattering tone. For an hour, their bodies shiver with concern and minds reshuffle since they would have this wholehearted virtual conversation at the dining table.

“I swear when I get home, I’m gonna track him down, kick his shin, and rip out his co—”

He didn’t tell Chae about the fight after the night it happened. Instead, it was Jiwoo who told Chae about the fight about hours earlier, but Honggi couldn't care less. Rather, he's grateful for her for opening up, and he now, the only thing he wants to do is to reassure their girlfriend, now that she's willing to address the shocking news.

“Calm down, Chaeyeon-ah,” Honggi shows his palms, even breathing slowly.

“I don't think I can.” All fingers on each of her hands claw their way through her hair, almost pulling them. “That Cheol prick hurt you and harassed Jiwoo! Like—aaughh!”

“Unnie, please calm down…” Jiwoo coos. “It’s over. Oppa and I had things covered. That prick is never messing with us again, oh? We made the message clear to him this time.”

“Arasseo. We’ll talk about this tomorrow…” Chaeyeon turns to her boyfriend with her worried eyes. “Honggi-yah… If something like that ever happens between any of you, you better tell me about it, please? As soon as you can.”

“I will… I’m sorry about this, babe,” he soothes her nerves. “I won’t let it happen, okay? I promise. Not to either of you or Jiwoo.”

She fixes her hair in front of them, an act that somehow allures both Jiwoo and Honggi as they can see her face clearly. “You two can make it up for me once I come home.”

“Of course!” the pair answer in unison, matching their pitch. They hear her sighing from the other side, blending well with the chirps of the outdoors and the crashing of waves, but her last statement makes them blush, a reaction that she notices from her screen.

Chaeyeon’s frown subtly curls flat. “Did something happen else between you two?”

Honggi feels a little paralyzed from her question. “What do you mean, unnie?” Jiwoo lets out a tense chuckle. “What do you mean, unnie? I can assure you something isn't wrong… Especially between us.”

From her screen, Chaeyeon notices the hickeys on Honggi's neck and Jiwoo's disheveled hair. Her worry sinks, overtaken by intrigue and perhaps arousal. Her lips curl upwards.

“Oooooooh…” Within a couple of seconds, the woman’s mouth opens. She figured it out.

The two remain speechless. “We—I mean, I’ll tell you about it tonight,” Jiwoo stutters.

“Hajima! You don’t need to. Don’t let me ruin it…” she giggles. “Have fun, you two,” she tells them with a wink. The call would end a few seconds later, much to their confusion.

“Huh… She's never been this excited about me sleeping with someone,” Jiwoo surmises.

“So, she knows now… I honestly don’t know if that makes things less or more thrilling.”

= = = =

Their afternoon would become a clusterfuck, but not by its original meaning. They’ve taken their time dancing with their lips, tongues, and hands. But it's about time they bring their bodies back into the mix, like they did outside, and it all starts with them finally stripping their own clothes—liberating themselves of their fabric hindrances.

“Unnie… likes being the dominant one… Doesn’t she?” she says in-between their kiss.

Instead of answering her in agreement, a suggestion races through his mind while he feels her tongue dominating his. “Do you wanna be the dominant one over me now?”

“Hmm… No,” she shakes her head. “Maybe for another time.”

“Okay, then.” He remains her signal, unsure if she wants him to continue their kiss.

“How about we go a few more times, daddy?”

She's now into name-calling? he realizes. “No need to tell me twice.”

Jiwoo holds onto his shoulders. “Wait a second… You’re kinda getting a little stinky.”

“Hey, that's not—” He immediately raises his arms, rapidly checking each of his pits.

“We both are,” she clarifies, holding down his arm and playfully sticking her tongue out. “So, why don’t we do something about it?”

He retaliates with an irresistible kiss, holding and walking her towards the bathroom.

With the curtain closed shut, the showerhead drizzles over their heads, pouring down their bodies like a storm. As soon as they’re completely soaked, Honggi carefully pins Jiwoo into the wall, now showing his dominance with his tongue over hers. “Hngghh, daddy,” the woman purrs while her partner takes his time—licking and nibbling down her chin, neck, and collarbone until she feels her own fluids leaking and washing down the drain by the shower.

“Put it in,” she begs him even more. His mischievous side yearns prolonging her desperation, hoping to level with her playfulness, like she did outside.

“What’s the magic word, baby?” he questions with a toothy grin.

“Please, daddy,” she peppers kisses, nay licks on his left hand, feeding into his ego.

Without any signal, Honggi inserts his rod into her entrance, sparking a moan from her. Within seconds, his thirst and stamina propels himself to shove his cock deeper into her vagina. Her moans turn into wails as her walls maintain their tightness around his shaft the more it expands its reach, and it’s a matter of time until he starts his classic move of thrusting in and out, upwards and downwards while keeping his hold of her. His groans mirror her screams of pleasure, still maintaining their stability on the slippery surface.

Raising her right leg with his left hand, he pushes inside her with a rougher thrust. Being washed with a wave of stimulation, Jiwoo leans her head backward with her tongue out, welcoming some of the water pouring on her moaning mouth. Honggi maintains his focus on pounding his lover, astonished by its unswerving tightness. Jiwoo’s screams echo across the room, as—aside from keeping herself together—it’s the only thing she can do while willingly and submissively serving her cunt to Honggi until the very second either of them reaches their breaking point. In this race for each other’s orgasm, Honggi has been spending his stamina well with each pulsating pound, as Jiwoo’s endurance begins to run short, feeling her fluids accumulate into her opening.

“Fuck…” Fortunately for her, his breath begins to burn out like a fuse, awaiting the explosion that will be triggered by his cock. “Baby, I—I’m—” he tries to warn her.

“Cumming!” Jiwoo shrieks with the highest note she can possibly hit in a while, higher than her on-the-spot singing sessions. At least, the ones that Honggi’s heard from her.

The woman gives into her orgasm first, although the man would bust his seed inside her womb after five more seconds. They slowly slide down on the floor tiles and land on the shower mat—with Jiwoo sitting on Honggi’s lap. While his vision is almost covered by the shade of the woman’s dripping hair, she gives thanks to him with a kiss. She extends her arm to turn the shower off, before leaning her head on his chest, taking a few more minutes to mellow out.

Since they only have a day and a half before their beloved comes home, the new lovers let loose whatever was left of their libido. The moment they leave the shower, they can only keep themselves wild and free in their bare form to start over. She drops her robe, and he pounces on her like a ravenous leopard leaping onto an impala, something that Jiwoo is more than willing to embody in this following series of exercises.

If she's like an iced tea, he's the honey that sweetens her essence every time they taste each other's lips and their sweat and saliva dripping, like nectar. Neither of them have regrets staying inside their place the whole night, nor getting themselves sweaty again. 

Perhaps it’s a given in the art of making love. Yet, unfortunately for them, they're mere mortals, bound by the breaths that give them life and allow them to savor each other’s bodies. They had to stop eventually, and they did so by six-thirty nine in the evening.

They're back inside the bedroom. But for their own promise, they would only do it two more times on the bed right before Honggi's guilt would get the best of him mainly for cumming beyond his control, even though the results of Jiwoo aren’t that different.

“I can’t believe it,” he confesses, breathless as if he’s ran a marathon. It wouldn't be the first time he's felt like this, but this is definitely another time he’s made the comparison without hesitation, considering his confidence about how they’ve pleasured each other.

“That we just did it a few times throughout the whole weekend?” Jiwoo gleefully puffs.

“No… Well yeah, it’s just… I didn’t believe… That you actually tasted like iced tea.”

“Oppa!” The woman bursts out laughing. “Stop giving me ideas.” She pulls her phone.

“Woah…” His toes clench on the mattress, bracing the possibility that his member will rise from her implications. “Ideas?”

“Not telling you anything…” Jiwoo simply answers, maintaining her eyes on the screen.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually listing that down on your phone.”

“No, you perv,” she giggles. “I’m texting unnie, and some stuff to do at work. Namely some things to sort at the bakery. Possible new additions to the menu, and all that.”

“So, like your buns?” he shoots back, pursing his lips together with a snicker.

“Yah!” She slaps his shoulder, unable to control her laughter. “Not those ones… Plus, you’ve already taken care of them for the week.”

“You've taken care of mine, too, if I remember it correctly.”

As a skittish Jiwoo gives his bum a soft smack, they welcome the silence, embracing this new atmosphere with bliss and butterflies and their breaths easing with the aircon.

Thankfully, his member remains semi-erect, but something else is still floating in his mind. A question that he should’ve asked days ago. “So, uhhhh… I was wondering—”

“Yeah?” she turns away from the screen, sensing the pauses in his voice. She places her phone on the nightstand, finally facing Honggi eye to eye. “What is it, oppa?”

He can’t even help but take a deep breath in front of her. “Do you… like me now or—”

Her eyes widened at his hesitation, her smile widening. “You’re still hung up on that?” She leans into his left cheek for a quick kiss. “Of course, I like you, babo! Were we doing it here, and everywhere else, not enough for you?”

He groans with embarrassment. “I know, I know that's a stupid question. But still...”

“Unnie was also right about another thing. Never have I met someone who’s as much of a romantic and a pervert as you are. And before you ask again…” She pokes the tip of his nose with her index finger. “It's a compliment.”

“That’s umm—Thanks, I guess?”

She lightly taps his shoulder. “That's all you, Honggi-oppa. No need to thank me.”

Slowly, she inches closer to his broad chest. They fall into silence with their breathing.

“I miss unnie,” she mutters, her eyes closing by the second, drifting off to the harmony of Honggi’s heart.

A soft smile forms on his face. Her moment of tenderness renders him to caress her hair. The scent of her shampoo unsurprisingly reminds her of Chaeyeon. He holds her a little tighter, wrapping his arms around her. “I miss her, too.”

= = = =

Two hours have passed since midnight.

Honggi’s stomach grumbles. Hunger is far from what it is telling him, but they’ve spent the entire day and night pounding, grinding, and filling each other up to the brim in all sorts of places until they’ve finally drained themselves of their fluids.

Noticing his lover snoring softly next to her second pillow, his eyes and heart urge him to give her a kiss on her cheek, forehead, even her lips, but his tummy growls a second time, forcing him to get up and sneak himself out into the kitchen, holding his phone.

To his right, the sink is still scattered with a couple of platters and bowls from their lazy dinner eight hours earlier. Some of which still contain a puddle of ramen and red orange tteokbokki sauce. “Eh… I'll wash ‘em down in the morning,” he whispers, after an exhale of contentment.

Honggi glugs down the whole glass. It's fun and all that they get to know each other by themselves, but that emptiness cannot be ignored the longer his realization repeats in his mind. They indeed both miss her—and they can’t wait for her to go home to them. Maybe he should call her; she didn’t leave the country anyways. Maybe he shouldn’t. Why is he starting to overthink, it’s only three in the morning. Most people would—

A notification pops on his phone. Considering today’s a Sunday, he doubts it’s anything related to work. If it’s from his closest buds or family, he usually reads any stuff from them a little later, but his peripherals catch the sender’s name. Speaking of whom.

His eyes light up with bliss, seeing the light green text popping up at his dark screen.

[PeaChae]: Hey babe! ♡ I know it’s a bit late And we had a long call earlier this morning. But, I just wanna check up on you for a bit. So… Did you two finally get along?

{Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, babe!} {And to answer your question…} {We have!} {Better than ever.} {But, I’m kinda I’m surprised you’re only texting now.} {Is everything alright at work?}

[PeaChae]: Never better, actually! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) Oh, heck! I’ll just give you one spoiler. We’ve made some new connections with some companies abroad. Well, few is an understatement, really. You'll find out.

{That’s great!} {Hoping our network expands internationally by next year.}

[PeaChae:] I couldn’t agree more, babe. We can finally watch our shows abroad whenever we want ㅎㅎㅎ

{Where are you now?} {It must be late, so I’m assuming you’re getting a rest now.} {If you’re not, then you better be! (っ- ‸ - ς)}

[PeaChae]: You silly! ㅋㅋㅋㅋ Of course, I’m in my room now. I just packed up my luggage for the morning. I’ll be heading off to bed in a few minutes.

{That’s good to know.} {You’ve worked hard this month.} {But, how are you guys?} {You mind telling me any details?}

Honggi takes a look at the open bedroom door. Light’s are still off. She must be sleeping like a log.

[PeaChae]: Jiwoo doesn’t tell me much when we text… (˶˃⤙˂˶) She knows I'm getting a little too nosy with your bonding week!

{Well, maybe she has a point ㅋㅋㅋㅋ]

The man lets out a deep giggle, having thought of a snappy comeback to her grumbles.

{Honestly, they're more of a “show, don’t tell” detail.} {Maybe we’ll give you a demonstration once you get home.}

[PeaChae]: Omo, omo, omo. You and your words, Lim Honggi! You know I can’t wait for that, oppa. (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

{Neither can I, Chae. (⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝)} {Neither can we.}

“Yah… You guys done buzzing each other or what?”

He sees her leaning next to the edge of the couch, with her eyes still half-closed.

“Jiwoo-yah! Wait, you’re awake this whole time?”

“Not entirely, but you lovebirds couldn’t shut up about me.”

“We were just texting,” he defends himself, showing his screen for a second.

“Yeah, but your notifications keep beeping whenever you or unnie send a text,” Jiwoo grouses. “It’s like you’re pros playing ping pong with your messages. Not to mention, you’ve been giggling whenever you type.”

He laughs in astonishment. Her attention to detail amazes him, even in her half-awake state. “Mianhae, Jiwoo-yah…”

She takes his now filled glass, guzzling down the drink in one go, inciting an exhale of refreshment now that her thirst is quenched. “That’s better… I’ll head back to bed.”

“I’ll join you in a bit…” he takes the empty glass. “Should I bring you a glass of water inside the room, too?”

Much to his surprise, she answers him with a loving peck on his lips, one she breaks after three seconds of hitting a high pitch. 

“Muah… And bring a whole pitcher, too,” she coos, before walking back to her room to raise her voice to tell him, “Gomawo, oppa! And text good morning to unnie for me.”

“Aigoo, aigoo…” he shakes his head, chuckling with closed eyes. “This woman…”

Honggi sees Chae’s last text wishing him and Jiwoo a good night (morning, technically). He makes a somewhat longer reply, mirroring her lovey-dovey responses by bidding his beloved to have sweet dreams, even puckering his lips in front of his screen to make kissing noises.

Before carrying a glass for Jiwoo and a full pitcher, a thought manifests in his mind, which prompts him to nod with a titter. I don’t think I can get any luckier than this.

= = = = =

so that's that. I'll be working on a new fic about someone else. it'll be a little shorter, but I'll do my best to maintain the quality and all that, if not improve more. thanks for the read. hope you have a great day!

[oofmybad]

I loved your GOAT Talk imagine! Could you do one where Billie and reader are on Hot Ones Versus?

HOT ONES Versus

i love this request!!! it’s so nice writing out videos she’s done - just takes so long lol. but it’s a good excuse to watch the videos back teehee :P

warnings: fluff, suggestive jokes, not proofread

a/n: hi gang! i had my tattoo today, it was only five hours long so not too bad. i had planned to write a ton of requests while i was there but i ended up getting my right arm tattooed so no can do, whoopsie!

~~~~~~~

“you spin first baby, you wanted to” billie points to you across the table.

you take the hot sauce wheel between your fingers and spin it. after many turns it lands facing billie.

“you go first!” “my turn” you and billie say at the same time.

to your left, there is a stack of cue cards placed face down. you pick one up and begin to read out the question.

“as a songwriter, there’s a constant need to document your inner-most thoughts and feelings.” you pause to tsk, “read your last notes app entry out loud” you wince at billie.

“ruh rohhhh” billie sings, clearly unable to remember the last thing she wrote in there. she fishes her phone out of her back pocket and brings it up to read from.

her leg bounces in anticipation as she makes her way to the app.

suddenly, out of nowhere, billie lets out her signature loud cackle, throwing her head back in the process.

“yall! it’s a quoute from my dad” billie goes on to explain the context of the note before revealing what it actually says:

“your mom says i have bird eyes” she laughs, making you laugh with her.

she continues, “and that i look like a baby dinosaur”

“what the fuck, maggie?!” you chime in, “way to woo him” you joke.

“look at mom!” billie point over to maggie behind the cameras while laughing, “she’s like, ‘yep!’”

you notice that maggie is also filming the scene, so you decide to tease her about it, “she’s also filming as though there aren’t a hundred cameras in here. you know, just to get that magic shot” you quip.

billie laughs with you, before going on to read out the next question for you. “i just released my latest project, hit me hard and soft, were there any arguments while i was working on the record?” she reads out, looking to you once she’s completed the question. she takes off her glasses now, hoping to get a better look at you.

“ummm” you think, “yes” you say plainly.

billie laughs at your short sentence, “you gonna give any context to that, or?”

“i would come in the room a lot while you were recording a take and mess it up. that would piss you off” you say. billie laughs heavily in agreement.

“let me defend myself, though” you put a hand up, “i cant knock ‘cause that makes a noise, but i can’t just come in ‘cause that distracts you. so what exactly am i meant to do?”

“um, not come in” billie says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“bil, you were recording for like two years. sometimes i needed you” you explain, making eye contact with the cameras, looking for comradery.

“hell yeah you did” billie says like a twelve year old boy, turning your sentence dirty.

“shut UP! i did not!… well-” you trail off.

“sorry mom” billie giggles. you just grit your teeth in maggies direction, making an ‘eek’ face.

“ok next question pleaseeeee” you sing out, trying to move on from the now awkward conversation.

you pick up another cue card and read it out to billie.

“in addition to being a grammy award winning singer, you’re also a style icon. rate these classic billie fits on a scale from 1-10.”

“jesus christ” billie huffs.

you pull up the first image of her in a camo vest and grey sweatpants, already giggling at her.

billie deliberates, “one to ten? we’re gonna give that like a… three.” she goes on, “i had the idea, the idea was there, but the execution was off. it really doesn’t look good on, though.”

“was that at laneway?” you ask.

“mhm, in perthhhhhhh” she says questioningly, causing you to make fun of her cadense.

“p-u-r-r-r-r-r-th?” you spell out before picking up the next image.

“aw this was cute” you comment.

“that was cute. that’s like a 7/8. anything anime is like the coolest shit ever.” billie answers, “anytime i have a shirt with an anime character on it, it’s the coolest shirt i own.”

holding out the next image billie jumps in, “oof. this was a person who’s shit did not stink.”

“uhhhhh” you disagree, “she was, in a word: mean”

“hahahahaHAHA” billie laughs in her baby voice, “that’s not true!“

“don’t even, bil. you hated me back then” you mock pout.

“no i didn’t, i could never hate you” billie attempts to defend herself but you cut her off regardless, “you can and you have, bil.”

the two of you continue to score fit pictures, before billie gets too embarassed to continue.

she reads out the next question.

“as a fellow producer and songwriter, you’ve worked with everyone form justin bieber to kid cudi. name one person you’d never want to be in the studio with again” billie laughs out at the end of the question, a mischevious look on her face.

“hehehe” she devilishly chuckles.

“oh no” you hesitate to answer, already having someone in mind.

“yeah! YEAHHH!” billie screams in triumph, happy you’re gonna have to eat a death wing.

“um… um….” you blow a big puff of air out, “i don’t wanna punch down.”

“savage, y/n” billie quips.

“well?! i could punch WAY down” you laugh. “…sure, sure, i’ll eat a wing.”

you go to take a nibble out of the soy meat, the heat already hitting you like a cloud of smoke.

“woah! that was a fat bite, baby” billie exclaims.

“i’m hungry” you mumble back as you chew, but make sure to cover your mouth.

“careful with your eyes, pretty girl” billie warns you. you’re sat their with your hands out, palms to the sky, consciously putting them nowhere near your face.

“mmm, that’s yummy!” you shimmy your shoulders as you eat and go to pick up the next card.

“couple test! i’m going to write down my answer, and you have to guess my response. guess wrong and eat a death wing” you say the final part in a faux suspenseful voice.

billie chuckles at that.

“what is my favorite billie eilish song?” you ask.

the two of you both pick up ypur white boards as you ponder on your answers.

“i have no idea-“ billie beginds to say.

“dont over think it” you butt in.

“new or old?”

“new-ish” you reply, tryna help her out.

billie’s face shows utter confusion as she answers, “you like so many of my songs though”

“of course!”

“i mean, maybe skinny?” billie confirms her guess.

“good guess! it’s what was i made for”

“awww, you cutiepatootie” bille coos at you, “i literally forgot that song existed” she laughs.

“how?!” you question her, “i literally play it everyday.”

“i wanna eat a wing!” billie interrupts you, whining in her baby voice. the two of you really should have eaten before you go here.

“well you got it wrong so go ahead, baby” you laugh at her childish behavior.

“oooo, yum dude” billie comments once she’s taken a bite.

the director speaks to you from behind the cameras, “y/n, why did you pick what was i made for?”

“well,” you think on it, “i got to tag along with billie. we became part of the barbie entourage which was such a fun group to be part of. i just liked leeching” you joke.

“how’s the spice hitting?” the director goes on to ask billie.

“it’s great. just a little hard to think” she smiles at the camera.

now her turn to read a carsd, billie reads aloud, “couple test!” in a voice of mockery.

“what is my biggest fear?”

“surely it has to be something being under your bed. or furniture in general. you still jump up into bed from three feet out.”

“close! good answer. but nope. it is the salt monster” billie corrects you.

“oh yeah!” you laugh, clapping your hands in enjoyment.

“ok. fuck” you huff, preparing to eat another wing.

“i thought you were gonna get that one” she says

“sorry” you mumble as you take a bite.

“dont say sorry, my love. i just feel bad you have to eat another wing” billie reaches her hand out across the table for yours.

you smile at her kind ways.

“that one wasn’t so bad. the first one just lingers for so long. at least it’s yummy soy” you ramble on with your mouth full.

while you read out the next card, billie sits across from you, watching your mouth as you read. her own mouth is slightly swollen from the hot sauce. she looks how she looks in the bedroom… you shoudn’t be thinking of this right now.

“rank these artists form most to least tanented” you furrow your eyebrows as you speak, knowing this will be a tough one for billie.

“woah! who?!” she asks you, looking frightened already.

“tyler the creator, lana del rey, childish gambino, and justin bieber”

“i dont know if i can do it” billie shakes her head.

you nod understandingly, “ok, well, eat a death wing then.”

billie picks up a wing, bringing it to her face to smell it before she takes a bite. she hesitates and says, “it’s the lips that are a problem. the mouth is fine.”

“really? yeah, they do look a little red my love” you tease her.

billie goes ahead and takes a bite, doing her best to avoid her lips.

“you eat like a horse” you casually observe her, just saying what’s on your mind.

“hey! rude!” billie shouts back.

“not normally, just, with your lips all curled up like that” you scoff.

“mmm, yum!” billie expresses with her hand. “what’s awesome about hot ones is when the interview is over, we get to KEEP suffering.”

“true, true” you nod.

“alright,” billie says, “wildcard.”

as she says it, horns start to blare around the room, startling you both. you look utterly exhausted by the commotion whereas billie looks like a deer in headlights. she turns her head to the direction of the noise, her whole body jumping in a fright.

“what the fuck, dude” you say to the director, tired of their antics.

billie begins to read out another card, “it’s trajish- it’s a trajish- WOAH!” but her words come put as complete jibberish. clearly the spice is getting to her head.

you tease her blunder, “purrrr, exactly what i was thinking, bil!”

“shut up” she glares at you, “it’s tradition around here to put a little extra on the last wing. you and your opponent can add an extra dab to your final wings now.”

you simply let out a long sigh at the suggestion and take a sip of water whilst billie takes off her flannel.

“what’s the question?” you interrogate billie.

“give me a second, mama” she glares at you again. “don’t smile at me… challenge your other half to a compliement battle. first person to smile must eat a death wing.”

taking another chug of water, you say nothing, but silently hope for the pain in your mouth to ease. you just stare in front of you blankly.

“dude this is so sad” billie says, “i don’t like seeing you in pain.”

“that’s sweet, but not true” you side eye her.

billie’s mouth falls wide open and she kicks your leg under the table in annoyance at your innuendo.

“see! she’s even kicking me now” you make eye contact with the cameras.

the director steps in, counting you two down to your compliement battle.

“1… 2… 3… go!” he says.

billie goes first, “you’re the most talented person i know.”

no smile from you, the game continues.

“you’re a fast driver” you scoff, your face still neutral, “you’ve never been in a car accident, right?”

billie looks up and to the side, “um, nope. but is that even a compliment?”

she continues, “you’re the smartest person i know.”

“bil, i feel like you already said that.”

suddenly, all of your hearing goes black, all you can hear is a high-pitched ringing in your left ear. “i’ve gone deaf in one ear!” you cackle.

billie’s head shoots up like a meercat, she peers around the room looking for reassurance that you’re ok. her eyes fall on you now, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

you giggle the pain away, playing it off with a blasé “that’s crazy.”

billie begins to giggle alongside you, no longer worrying for her baby, but finding it funny now. she proceeds to put an extra dab of hot sauce on your wing, no regard for your recent injury.

“holy shit, billie. that’s so much” you take the wing and wipe some of the sauce off onto billie’s wing.

maggie cackles from behing the camera.

“uhm…” you think, “you look good in the DUMBEST fucking clothing” you ‘compliment’ her.

at this, billie lets out the loudest cackle, your favorite laugh of hers echoing around the room.

knowing she’s just lost, billie goes ahead and picks up the final wing.

“i laughed too, though” you pick up a wing as well, in solidarity.

“are you good, though?” billie checks in with you.

“it cant get worse” you shrug.

billie raises her eyebrows in a ‘for real?!’ look, “it can! it totally can.”

“well, bone apple teeth” you cheers your wings together

“love you” billie says before she takes a bite. as soon as she does, “ugh! that’s disgusting!”

“it’s a tie!” the producer calls out.

“a tie?! i didn’t take one sip of drink the whole time!” billie tries to bargain her way into a win.

“you’re so competetive” you roll your eyes, “billie, who doesn’t have enough trophies…” you joke, “congratulations, this is yours” you hand her the trophy.

billie holds up the plastic chicken wing triumphantly and makes a speech, “thank you so much for having me on the show…”

her sentence trails off and she just looks around the room for a long pregnant pause. the room fills with laughter at her comedic timing.

“stream hit me hard and soft… i’m like feeling the need to tell you all the people i’ve ever hooked up with for some reason” she rambles on.

“ahahaha” you burst out laughing.

billie goes to take a bit of the trophy but to no avail, “oh my god! you didn’t even make that a little bit edible.”

at his, the room erupts into applause and you two have finished the interview.

“good job, baby” you congratulate billie on her win.

“thanks, love” billie stands up and walks over to you. “are you ok?” she asks.

“i think i have hot sauce in my eye” you laugh while rubbing your eyes.

“come here” billie commands as she dips a clean serviette into her ice water. she goes to wipe your eyes and clean them out.

“better?” billie questions you, your face cupped in her hand.

“much” you cheese before leaning in for a kiss.

billie steps back and goes back towards her seat before yelling in a silly voice, “should i eat the last one… or nah?!”

you laugh at her, stopped by her hurling her chair into the distance.

“steve from blues clues throws a chair into the liminal space” you joke, causing billie to keel over in laughter.