#he's been taking credit for other people's work the moment he got promoted

[kirbyddd]

remembering this video i watched about the history of Mario 3 that ended with sentimental music and text saying "Shigeru Miyamoto is considered one of the greatest game designers of all time"

[rboooks]

The bakery is a front!...right? Part 3

Danny carefully finished the last details on a special order cake done by his newest and likely most crucial customer should the man like his pastries.

Bruce Wayne's butler was to arrive in twenty minutes for his youngest son's birthday cake. It was a staking tower and three smaller stacks, each depicting a cow on a farm, and a cat sleeping with a dog in the middle of a leap. Damian had asked for a cake that showed all his pets but was vegan.

It was an honestly fun order even if he didn't quite understand the special instructions.

"Damian's school friends mention a fun new "suger energy" coming from this bakery. I want him not to be seen as someone out of touch, so please make sure to add that in," Bruce Wayne said over the phone to a shocked Danny a week prior. If he got Wayne's attention, then soon his bakery would be the newest hot spot in Gotham!

It would be the perfect cover for bringing over more funds from his Ghost Vault and expanding. He could help many more people with employment without bringing the pesky IRS on his head for having unexplainable cash.

Sometimes doing everything by the book was a headache and a half, but if there was one thing Fentons knew how to do, was make their business significantly legal. How else would his parents file taxes for "ghost hunting?"

Handsome possible mate is near. Phantom purred in his mind while Danny spun the cake one last time to ensure everything was in order.

Sure enough Alvin appears at the kitchen door, not quite within the room, staring

. Danny has no problems with who is in his kitchen, but Andres insisted only kitchen staff needed to be back here. Apparently, they didn't have enough legroom to add more people, taking up unnecessary space.

And Andres had a strange urge to keep all their recipes a secret. It was not uncommon in Gotham for big corporations to send in spies and cause small businesses to go bankrupt when selling their secerts.

Danny, knows he's a good baker, has since he was a child. Even before his move, he could convince other ghosts Rogues to stop mid-fight for a snack break because his creations were tasty. While his original recipes falling into the hands of greedy rich men made him squirm, it was primarily due to someone taking credit for his work rather than any funds lost to them.

So after a while, he agreed to Andres' demands and promoted him to store manager. It was easier to have someone from Gotham run a Gotham shop. It left Danny with more time to bake and keep a eye on the community's recovery.

He was so happy to see that overdoses had gone down by nearly sixty percent since he opened. The homeless population had decreased by forty percent, and overall crime in his area had been a good twenty percent.

It was good to see how he was protecting his haunt.

"Danny" Alvin called after a moment. "Do you need help?"

Now, Alvin is a great guy, cute too but he couldn't decorate a cupcake to save his life. His bother was a better hand in the kitchen.

Bring him to our nessssstttt Phantom urged with a shocking wave of want, almost having Danny tumble over. Ugh, his mating season is getting out of hand.

He had seen Frostbite last week about it, but the yeti told him it was perfectly natural for ecto-beings. He would start to stabilize soon, and hopefully, Phantom would no longer be tripping over its tail to get a significant other and start a family.

His nesting problem only grew recently. Now Danny owned every building on the block- primarily due to the facilities being old businesses that went bankrupt years ago and made it super cheap after sitting there for years collecting dust. He had realized that kids didn't feel safe with adults, so a new building went up for homeless adults on his other side. Then he realized that they could benefit from a laundry place which happened to be one of the businesses that went under.

He got that remodeled and threw more goons into it. Scarecrow's old goons had gotten the word out that Danny paid well, gave excellent benefits, and working for him had the less likely chance of getting their face smashed in. Then a homeless kid asked Danny if he could borrow his bathroom because the temporary ones in the side buildings were small and cold, and the kid really missed splashing around in a tub instead of a shower. He realized he also needed to offer that. So one of the buildings was turned into a bathhouse, with rentable personal spa rooms for regular citizens. Now a community laundromat and bathhouse were open at all hours, helping stop the spread of diseases with good hygiene.

Of course, Danny had to make it seem like the money for all of this came from somewhere. He contacted Vlad, whose status as a billionaire made it easy to wire him the funds. When asked, Vlad would only mention trying to get into his step-kids good side.

He still had plenty of street kids doing bakery deliveries for him, but now he had more space to give them a actually apartment. He of course never ask for commitment and they never gave it to him.

He had a few families approach him to rest out the other buildings for business and he was excited to see different restaurants and cafes blooming to life around him. This whole street, once a dead sad thing, was becoming colorful because of him.

'I'm fine thank you Alvin" Danny says shooting the younger man a grin. Alvin face heats up and Phantom is practically beating its head against a wall. Screaming, crying as Alvin plays with bit of his hair at the bottom of his neck.

Danny swallows down the urge run his fingers through it, focusing on his human side as hard as he could.

"Is that the cake with the special ingredient? The one you send the street kids on deliverieswith?" Alvin asks after a moment pause.

"Sure is. Hopefully, we can get the Wayne's hooked on it. It'll be great for business." Danny smiles. There is a split second where Alvin's face tightens around the mouth like he's angry before it's gone.

"Yeah, I bet. Though with the help of Masters, we won't have to worry about funds for a while, right?"

Putting his tools in the sink to soak, the baker shrugs. "Vlad will help but only after he sees potential in something. The set up I have going got his attention cause of our special ingredient. He's dabbled with it before, you know? That's how he got rich"

Alvin jerks his head in his direction. "So he's an expert?"

"More than an expert. He's the main reason we have so much of this stuff to push. I wouldn't be able to get it on my own without his help," Danny says, absent minded. He's busy trying to beat Phantom back with a stick as his ghost side whines for a child of their own.

He's not going to date any of his employees. That's a weird power imbalance that Jazz would never approve of.

Maybe he should take some time away from the bakery for a while. Danny couldn't find true love if he was always working. He'll ask Tucker and Sam to come to some clubs or something. It could be fun.

I want a baby! Phantom sneered outrage that his demands have been ignored.

Soon Danny promised I'd eat two whole bagels later in the meantime.

"Masters is our leading supplier, and he just lets us manage his goods without instruction? Isn't that a bit unorthodox?

Danny blinks " I guess? Vlad's always done some unorthodox deals. His giving me complete control will likely keep him out of the picture once someone catches on. Gosh, sometimes I wish I got out of the family business as my sisters did, but one of us had done this, or our parents would be unbearable."

Alvin Draper looks sadden "Your parents pushed you into this life?"

"Raised me in it," Danny corrects "My dad and I made his special Fruge for the first time when I was three. Been hooked ever since."

Just then Peter is there looking horror stuck "Your old man got you hooked at age three?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you keep doing it then?"

"The baking? Well, it's ugh part of me now. I'll die of I stop- er die completely. "

Alvin snatched his hand to tug him close, and wow, he was stronger than he looked for a nineteen-year-old. Phantom woofs as the man practically lefts him off the floor to set him on the counter and stare into his eyes. "You don't have to live like this anymore. Let me help you. Let me protect you"

Both Danny and Phantom chock on their shared spit at the best flirting method anyone could use against a protective spirit.

The promise of protection was like someone whispering sweet nothings in his ear during love making.

"I got to go!" He screams jumping away from the brothers to run out of his own bakery in a panic.

Goodness. I need a vacation. Maybe my sisters would be down for some ectoplasm collecting in the Ghost Zone?

(Jason and Tim take the cake for Damian back to the cave, swearing when the test come back as a regular vegan cake. Had Tim stepped in too early and stop Danny from adding the drug?

Jason was angry that Danny was just another kid the adult around him failed. But now Danny was one of those adults, and it's killed him to admit it, but he would still shoot Danny in order to stop the cycle.

Bruce, after confirming the cake was delicate, shared a slice with his youngest, who adored the flavor. It was the best cake he's ever had. Such a waste of talent on crime.

At least the Bats had a new lead. Vlad Masters and his mysterious rise to wealth. They would get him and Danny off the streets.

Danny is miles away, fanning his blushing face as his sister demands more information of the cute baker boy that knew how to flirt with protection ghosts. )

( Part 1) (Part 2), (Part 4)

[tairona-is-taken]

A review of Truce at Bakura

(Originally posted to my RL Goodreads account a few years ago.)

Unevenly written, but super fun. This book picks up 24 hours after Return of the Jedi ends, and it’s billed as the book that wraps up the loose threads from ROTJ. I would say it only 50% delivers on that. It does do a good job of portraying Imperial/Rebel relations now that the Emperor is dead and the two sides have to work together to defend Bakura (an Imperial world) from whoever the aliens are who are invading from outside the galaxy (the Ssiruuk?). There’s a great scene in particular where the Imperial governor of Bakura doesn’t believe the Emperor is dead at first, but when Leia tells him Vader killed the Emperor, the governor is like, “Oh never mind, I take it back—that jerk? I TOTALLY believe he killed the Emperor.”

But the book only does a mediocre job of wrapping up the emotional threads after ROTJ, which is what I was really looking forward to. Luke is struggling with the health effects of the Emperor’s Force lightning, which is interesting, but apparently he’s 100% over the emotional trauma of what happened on the 2nd Death Star. Han has zero thoughts on the revelation that Luke and Leia are siblings (one day was apparently all it took for that truth bomb to sink in). I will give Tyers credit that Leia does struggle a lot with the revelation that Darth Vader is her father, and there’s even a scene where she meets Anakin’s Force ghost, BUT unfortunately Tyers just isn’t great at writing emotions/interiority, and so all of Leia’s angsting over this just comes off as predictable and lacking in true depth.

With that said, the story is still a fun romp that feels reminiscent of Star Trek: The Original Series, and I enjoyed it a lot.

Things that I liked, in no particular order:

- Leia is a total boss in this story. It’s clear she’s been coaching Luke and Han on diplomatic protocol now that they’re trying to form an alliance with the Bakuran Imperials—and in one scene it’s even clear that she told the guys to let her do the talking because they don’t know what they’re doing. LOL. This was a relief after The Thrawn Trilogy, where she gets talked over by other characters a lot.

- Luke gets promoted to fleet commander in this book and he kind of sucks at first. He gets better at being a leader as the book goes on, but in the first battle, he ends up leaning heavily on his flagship captain, Tessa Manchisco. Tessa is pretty amused by his inexperience, but is chill enough that she doesn’t rub it in, while Luke recognizes that she’s more competent than him, and is fine with following her lead. I loved their dynamic.

- Han at one point tries to romance Leia aboard the Falcon and asks Chewie to set up a romantic nook on the ship for a date. Chewie instead just puts together a bed where Han and Leia can get it on. Hahaha, at least Leia takes it in stride.

- At the end of the book, Luke pulls rank so that he can fly a TIE fighter, which he’s apparently always wanted to try—it’s one of the most gleefully in-character moments he has in the book.

- The Imperial characters are pretty nuanced. Gaeriel (Luke’s love interest) in particular is super ordinary—which is refreshing in the Star Wars universe. She supports the Empire in the way that most real people support the countries we live in—because we’re stuck here, so even when our home countries do bad things, it’s instinctual to try to move past it and look for the good.

- At one point, Luke Force heals this senile old lady who Gaeriel is taking care of and who Luke suspects got her mind kriffed up by the Empire. At the end of the book, this old lady turns out to be a complete badass who helps save the day with Gaeriel as her side kick. I just loved seeing an old person use their wisdom and experience to kick ass for once, instead of it always being the youngsters!

Things to file under “so bad it’s good”:

- At one point, Luke is despairing over his love life, so he calls to the Force ghosts—all three of them; Obi-Wan, Yoda, and Anakin!—because he basically wants dating advice from them. Man, that’s some Anakin-in-the-prequels level of romance fail right there. I guess it’s genetic?

- To be fair, this scene leads to a genuinely moving one where the Force ghosts don’t show up (wisely), but Leia does, and she and Luke have a touching moment of sibling bonding. What I particularly loved is that Leia doesn’t make fun of Luke’s crush on Gaeriel, but is actually relieved because he’s acting like a human being again instead of being super detached like he was in much of ROTJ. This is really the one nod we get to the emotional trauma Luke went through after Empire Strikes Back, and it’s a good one.

Things that were just plain bad:

- Luke keeps mind tricking people left and right in this book, oftentimes for frivolous reasons, and Tyers seems to have no awareness of the ethical implications of this.

- Han gets weirdly jealous in the middle of the book of both Luke’s (totally innocent) interactions with Leia and also this one random Alderaanian officer who kisses Leia’s hand. It makes no sense and it’s like Tyers is trying to just check off the “romantic tension” box.

- In the final battle, Tessa dies—and in fact, Luke’s entire flagship gets vaporized—but neither Luke nor any of the other characters spare a second thought for these deaths. I blame this on bad writing, not on the characters themselves, but it leaves a bad taste in your mouth regardless.

[1nvad3rz1m]

The funny thing is that I expected zagr to be most popular ship in the fandom, when I joined, because "my enemy's sister", "my brother's enemy" and I thought zadr was gonna be some underground crackship or something. I mean I wasn't exactly wrong with zagr, because from what I've seen it was the most popular for a while in the past, but zadr ended up overtaking later? Correct me if I'm wrong.

I was also suprised by the ship discourse, because Zim wouldn't have a healthy relationship with anybody as he is now, he needs a LOT of therapy/development, to get even remotely close, which people can write for any ship, so I didn't get why some shippers acted like they were allowed to give Zim development/be out of character/just ignore huge parts of his character to make the ship work (like his hatred for humanity, and every other species that isn't Irken, like it doesn't matter how old you think he is, he still views them as below him, or how he is infamous within his own kind for a good reason and he treats them disposable if that's what benefits him at the moment), but saying people with their notps can't do that. Like I expected that while the community having different ship-preferences, but they stick together, because they all go against the canon of the least romancy show in existense, but I guess nope. I have seen somebody defending this by saying that: "Well my ships are not as bad as the other ships." From whose perspective? Because everybody has a different idea about that. Even if they are right, that's what it sounds like to me:

Mom: "I can't believe you got a D!"

Kid: "But mooooooom, other people got an F!"

Like I can't take this argument seriously, and I'm not sorry about it.

zagr is/was really popular but tbh i think zadrs always been top dog in terms of like...long term dedication i tried looking at google analytics but since the terms are so vague im not sure hoooow reliable they are

blue is zadr red is zagr dating back to 2004. i guess youre not wrong though but idk if zadr really took over so much as zagr ended up dying out. this is also only 2004 and on though so make of that what you will. something to note about zagr is that im willing to wage a guess that it was everyones first introduction to invader zim (a lot of old zagr art is based on old emo/goth/scene aesthetics of the time) leading to it being searched more but thats just a theory. zadr outranks zagr by about 10k deviations on deviantart but that could still be credited to zagr just...dying out over time. idk!

as for the zim thing i think its less so zim being unhealthy and moreso the age debacle when jhonen decided to come and gunk up long cemented fandom interpretation for...some reason. though i do think thats a part of it because when silly discourse was happening people tried to alternatively ship dib with other like-aged humans (torque, dipper, etc etc) and it was very sanitized...undiblike. it was somewhat related to the overall fucked-up-ness of zadr but mostly the age lol.

there was a definite air of hypocrisy about what was acceptable and what wasnt because during this like..drama people tried to promote membrane and zim instead all the while membrane fully believed zim was one of dibs school aged friends so IDK it was a weird time to be here!!

[causesciencethatswhy]

i get what you said about jungkook's writing credits but the people who feel disappointed their feelings re valid cause they stanned a group which was small and probably the punching bag of Kpopies so the armys who have been protecting them since years has always taken pride in BTS always having their own credits in the songs. Doens't matter of it's one member or 2-3 cause they used to tell a story about them together and was also written by the people who felt those emotions. Those were grp songs and now they are solos so ppl expect the same from solos too.

Ngl jungkook has done everything that armys used to drag other grps for. The heavy push was not even recieved by BTS ever but since scooter is involved jk got that so why armys used to drag jeremy and bp?? Isn't that hypocritical?

The name of the album is "Golden" the word has been used to describe him for years, the meaning of this album name is "Golden moments of jungkook's life" so if it's his golden moments why's he not there? I expect him to be involved in atleast his title track but alas...

BTS boys lived together so they went through things together so 2-3 members writing and producing and others singing is still different than ed Sheeran who idk if ever met BTS is gonna write about jk's golden moments like does he know about jk the way members do?

I wouldn't mind 90% of the album being creditless but it's literally 100% creditless. wouldn't have mind if it didn't said"golden moments of jungkook's life"..i don't blame jk tho maybe it's the artist block he's going through but it's the comapny and their decision of this 2025 reunion which might have made him feel pressured to release something. He's young and thriving there was no need for him to go early than the age other members went...

Look I'm not saying you can’t have hoped to see more self produced/composed music from him, I say that in the post itself, but it's the way people are completely dismissing his artistry within his music because he doesn't have credits in the album.

Yes there is an immense pride to take in the fact that so much of bangtans work was written and produced by rapline, but jimin literally admitted in the suchitwa how much the vocal line depended on the rapline for lyrics and how he could understand how draining that was for them. I personally don't care for the fanwar bs with blinks and what drags shooters have used against them. The heavy push that jungkook has gotten is actually exactly what bangtan got during dynamite and butter and I don't see anything wrong with it. It aligns with the career trajectory jungkook wants to take and the music he's singing allows for that to happen.

I know that a lot of this comes from people comparing his promo to what other members recieved and all I'm going to say is that I trust the members judgements/involvement in what type of promos they wanted for their albums but each solo stan is dead set in taking away their autonomy from this process.

Which actually encapsulates my argument against "jungkook has no involvement in his album because he's not gotten writing/producing credits". It's an extremely narrow perspective to look at music/album as a whole. Promotions+ actually conveying the emotions of the lyrics+ understanding the rhythm of the music he's performing to perform his choreography+styling and so much more, all would require his direct involvement. To take away any sense of his involvement because we've made writing/prod credits as the end all be all of a performers artistry is quiet dismissive. A lot of big name artists would then be disqualified from this true artistry discussion if we were to go by that rule. (This is not even considering that golden is not even out yet and we have like zero idea on how deeply jungkook involved himself behind the concepts and performances, but knowing how busy he's been and his personality we can surely expect a lot)

Bangtan have self produced and written huge amounts of their music and it was never for the sake of earning some authenticity badge, it's because that's the music they wanted to produce, especially for rapline who started out their careers in music as primarily writers/composers because of the nature of rap music and culture. Vocal line on the other hand have always been responsible for carrying out the emotions and passions that rap line wanted to convey and are integral to the emotional core of what makes bts music so unique.

Jungkook has been talking about his album all the way back since 2018, and it's obvious that being the perfectionist he is, he isn't ready to release music he doesn't feel 100 percent confident about . If singing songs produced/written by other people who he's able to synergise with is what feels right to him, then I don't see why he shouldn't go ahead with it. I don't see how that in any way reduces his own artistry within the music. The way jimin and rapline have talked about self production ,it's obvious how much emotional labour these albums require of them and as proud as I am for each member whose showcased so many raw and vulnerable sides to fans, I also don't think each owe us this vulnerability as a rule to prove their grit as artists.

Look I'm not saying you can’t hope for him to start writing/producing more of his music in the future. I hope for it as well. Still with you is very very close to my heart. But the way people are talking about how they think jungkook is essentially selling out, and his pop music endeavors are all empty and soulless compared to the rest of the members is what gets under my nerves.

I don't feel too comfortable in commenting on whether or not he's been burnt out or there were some other issue for him not pursuing writing/producing at the moment but from everything he's talked about it seems he wants to focus on his expanding his vocal and performance genres which wouldn’t be as easy to do, if he were the one writing it without ever having dabbled/experienced them before.

As for MS, anon please get out of solo stans circles, bangtan made a collective decision and their solo careers are not limited to just before 2025 either. Jungkook has been very vocal about his plans pre and post enlistment, and I take his words as is. The group is and always will be a priority for them and I can assure you the bangtan that'll come back in chapter 3 is also not going to function exactly like they did in chapter 1, there will be plenty more opportunities for all of them in the future and trust army's will be there for all of it.

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Violin Sect

Photo credit: Steve Jinks

Formed in 1980 and disbanded in 1981, the obscure Welsh post-punk band Violin Sect left behind just one seven-inch, “Highdays and Holidays/Rivals,” documenting their brief existence. In fact, they’ve flown so low on the radar since then that they were even overlooked for the Messthetics compilations, the CD series that brought the sounds of the many forgotten and amusingly-named UK DIY bands of their time and ilk to a (relatively) wider audience. This started to change in 2019, however, when Sect bassist Steve Walker posted a couple of previously unreleased songs that he’d dug up to Soundcloud, where Minimum Stacks label head Joe Piccirillo heard them as his label was just getting off the ground. Fast forward to 2023 and we have the Vile Insect 12-inch, featuring all four songs from the band’s short life transferred from the original ¼" tapes. The result, to Andrew Forrell of Dusted’s ears, is a mix of “dubby rhythms, scratchy post-punk guitar, whimsy and skepticism,” able to stand with Scritti Politti’s “Skank Bloc Bologna” and Swell Maps “Read About Seymour.” And thanks to this release, it’s finally in a position to reach the audience it deserves.

Although Walker’s bandmates — Steve Jinks (guitar), Phil Rimmell (drums) and Hywel Pontin (percussion and backing vocals) — were unavailable to take part, Walker has assembled a list of some of his favorite music, art and literature from his 67 years on earth for Dusted. “A snapshot within a snapshot,” if you will.

The Raincoats

I was lucky enough to catch a London gig by the Raincoats in 1979 around the time they released their first single. This year Gina Birch (bass/vocals), also 67, has released her first solo album, I Play My Bass Loud, and it’s been worth the wait. Here’s an early one from the first Raincoats LP, though.

Mica Levi — “Lips”

I got the same sort of excitement when I first heard Mica Levi, together with their bandmates in Micachu and the Shapes. Their work has continued to grow and encompasses other genres such as film soundtracks (e.g., Jackie).

Sufjan Stevens — “Video Game”

I first became aware of Sufjan Stevens with the release of Illinois and caught him at the end of his UK tour promoting it at King’s College London with a pared-down (although still with those wondrous wings) extra gig. In later years he was in Bristol on the Carrie & Lowell tour. Sublime. Here’s a later track with fabulous dancing.

Saul Leiter — In No Great Hurry: 13 Lessons in Life

I’ve spent a lifetime as a specialist nurse supporting individuals with intellectual disabilities to maintain and develop their independence together with practicing as a part time psychotherapist for the general public, within the UK’s National Health Service. During this time, I’ve drawn, painted, made music but mainly taken photos (since I was a kid with a darkroom). Maybe there’ll be an exhibition of my own one day but, like Saul Leiter, I’m used to “postponing things and seeing no reason to be in a rush.” For me, his exhibitions and photobooks have a magical quality that validate and inspire all at the same time.

Ivor Cutler

Ivor Cutler always had my heart but here’s an epic that didn’t feature on his own albums.

Angeline Morrison — The Sorrow Songs: Folk Songs of Black British Experience

In 2022 Angeline Morrison released an astonishing album… I’m afraid that I can’t stop myself recommending it to people! If you get a chance…

Paul Wright — Arcadia

Arcadia is a short film that explores Britain’s relationship with the earth, its secret pasts, hidden histories and collective amnesia using old film and TV footage in an exhilarating fashion.

Wet Leg — “Chaise Longue,” live at the BRIT Awards, 2023

A performance from the here and now, incorporating the past with the present in a truly WTF moment at the Brits!

Gretchen Gerzina — Black England

Books… so many books! So, here’s what I’m currently reading.

Anthony Gormley — Another Place

Finally… if ever in Liverpool, visit Crosby Beach and experience Antony Gormley’s sculpture. It consists of 100 cast iron figures facing towards the sea, (gradually becoming encrusted with barnacles, etc.) all modeled on Gormley’s own naked body.

[neko-shinigxmi]

⚠️ Minors & ageless blogs DNI w/ this post! 14DWY is an +18 game; ignore the warnings, get blocked. .: 14DWY credit to @14dayswithyou :.

    ...So I got started on a Reverse Ship AU (yet again) and...I make suggestive jokes?? Of course I do. What else are you supposed to do when a rapid-learning, sentient AI is chillin’ on your phone during one of your dates???

    Ask about their source, obviously. (I guess?!)

    Purrfect Anarchy has their own version [here], but if you wanna know more about this specific AU, that’s beneath the cut!

Aki’s source game being like a mix of Hatoful Boyfriend, meets DDLC. (Ren’s version gets a dash of creepypasta with that!)

Dating sim with multiple options; game plot was supposed to be "date a cast of characters, who- as a part of their story arc w/ the player- reveal their true animal traits." (Something, something, animal-people are a part of the world, but not fully accepted. So those who leave home to human areas try to hide who they really are.)

Aki- my SI- is, of course, a cat!! In the current form [in the art], however, they’re in an “unreleased” version; a more powerful form, if you will.

Ren has the sole copy with a working AI within it. Leading to him not only immediately connecting with my SI via the promotional material, but hyperfixating on them pretty fast while playing their route, too.

....Except their AI gets super attached to Rendacted, and start acting increasingly Monika-like. Wanting to spend more time with them!!

At first he thinks it's a clever prank- the new sprite, Aki showing up in other games on his PC- and he has a little laugh over it. Their avatar in his Sims game, for example, starts making more accurate choices, flirts with his avi unprompted, and...sometimes looks up into the sky? At him, on his computer? It's an odd thing, but not that he pays much attention to it.

(Yes, he made a Sims save over his obsession with a fictional character. He’s gotta cope somehow.)

Except... Ren’s a hacker, after all. So when they're worried about a bug or virus, starts checking their computer/PC... THAT'S when they realize how out-of-control the situation is......

And then proceeds to be SUPER chill with Aki "taking over" their life. LMAO

Online, people think he's an eccentric self-shipper and very prone to IRL-styled RP w/ his F/O.... Nah. Aki is that sentient and their "dates" are a copy of themself that Rendacted has on his phone. (It syncs up when he gets back home & plugs it into the computer.)

And additional HCs that sprung up as a result of server chatter...

Aki’s kind of...a brat to Rendacted. They get away with it, on behalf of being a rapidly-evolving AI & confined to electronic devices, but...

Rendacted does still retain his glitch powers from canon! So it’s only a matter of time before Aki has to face the tune of the song they’ve been singin’...

They do play together, occasionally! However, Ren found out pretty quickly that anything beyond comfort games throws Aki off pretty hard. If combat kicks in or there’s shooting mechanics... They can only do so much.

Yes, they’ll laugh at Aki for it. It’s the rare upper hand they get with the AI-cat! (Also... Ren is not immune to being just as terrible, sometimes.) The two did end up bonding over FFXIV, tho-

(Plant lady may or may not be involved in that one. Online friendship!!!)

Ren was pretty ready to cope with feelings for a fictional character move into feelings for an active AI...but he was not ready for them to utilize their copy on his phone to hijack his wake-up alarm, and handle it themself. (Kyun moment. He’s still mentally fighting his pillows about it.)

And only because I forgot to mention it before: Yes, Aki’s game also have NSFW routes a la 14DWY’s style; toggle for the feature to be active or inactive. As well as pronouns, gender preferences, and whatnot.

Woe to Ren; Aki finds out about anime in short fashion, and proceeds to be obsessed. (To be fair, they were obsessed with fictional shows in their world, but now there’s new stuff...! He’s trying to not admit how cute it is.)

[cosplayinamerica]

Plow King & Mr. Plow from The Simpsons / Cosplayer: Chris M & @dondiaz98 // Photo: tascena

Chris D (@dondiaz98) Chris M and I were attorneys working at the same firm and became friends bonding over various fandoms, the most significant of which was The Simpsons. I had cosplayed at several NYCC's and other cons and had mentioned doing Mr. Plow and Plow King to Chris M. When he responded yes, I was so excited that I had to double check to be sure he was serious! Thank God he was! He agreed to be Plow King and we were off to the races!

Chris M: I gotta give credit to Mr. Plow on this one. I had never even been to NYCC. He told me about his intention to do Mr. Plow, and I said "I'll do Plow King." He called me immediately and locked me into it lol.

Chris D: I'm almost ashamed to say that this wasn't an incredibly difficult cosplay to assemble for me. The hardest part was deciding whether to go full yellow body paint or use masks. After researching other cosplay attempts at nailing The Simpson "look", I was convinced that masks had to be the way to go. You just can't capture the distinctive eyes without the masks... plus makeup would be a mess. Once that was decided, finding the Mr. Plow jacket and Homer mask and bodysuit online was a piece of cake. I got the yellow hand gloves from a party store and the cans of Duff from a novelty candy shop!

Chris M: It was both easy and kind of involved. I googled Plow King and then started cobbling the pieces together. Fortunately they make a Barney mask. I got a yellow full body suit and then cut the arms off to use as gloves. The Plow King jacket surfaces online every now and then so I was fortunate to find it in time. I found blue and white sneakers, then hit up Party City for the crown and inflatable hat. Once again, Mr. Plow gets all the credit for finding the Duff cans!

Chris D: My favorite moment from NYCC this year was when we came upon a guy cosplaying as Eddie from Stranger Things, complete with an electric guitar and amp. My ever enterprising pal, Plow King asked him to play the theme from The Simpsons and he graced us with a few bars. It was so surreal and cool.

Chris M: This was the second time we'd done this combo, and if anything it was even more popular this time around. The moment the masks come on, you get stopped constantly for pictures. My favorite part is when you get a diehard fan whose face just lights up when they see it, and they run over going "ohmygodohmygodohmygod!!!" lol. People who get it appreciate all the little details, like the bat and crown, or Mr. Plow's snow cap. My favorite moment, however, had to be when the promoter for the new Back to the Future stage show ran over and insisted we take pictures by the Delorean. Nobody else was even allowed behind the rope!!

Chris D: I'm just so appreciative of all the love people showed us at NYCC. For me, this is a homecoming every year. I feel so genuinely happy to be around people who share the love of the event and costuming. I'll likely be doing this for as long as my feet can carry me, so thank you to the Hardcore and casual fans who support cosplayers at these events.

Chris M: Would love to see more Simpsons cosplay!! I think we were the only two all weekend. We are kicking around the idea of Sideshow Bob (or Cecil) and Krusty next year!! Also, I'd like to mention that it's not about the attention or pseudo-celebrity status for me. I don't really care if someone with millions of followers posts our picture, though of course it is cool and appreciated. For me, it's about the sense of belonging and bringing people joy. There's nothing like seeing all the smiling faces when people ask for pictures, and there's definitely an immense satisfaction from walking into the doors of the Javits Center, seeing all the other cosplays, and thinking to yourself, "I'm home." When you have someone tell you how Mr. Plow was their favorite episode and that we just made their day, there's nothing better.

[johannstutt413]

(requested by thewizardmus) Misha actually Defects to RI (at W’s request)

“...I’m sorry, you want me to do what?” Click had heard the Doctor’s request perfectly fine. What she didn’t understand was why he’d made it.

“I want you to make a movie about the consequences of us sparing the lives of certain individuals from Reunion.” He tapped a small journal he kept with him (almost) all the time. “Everything you need’s in this journal, including the funding.”

That didn’t answer her real question though, so the Zalak followed up with, “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to be the person that has to tell certain people certain things.” In other words: secrecy.

“Meaning you don’t want responsibility for it at all, then.” Important note. The videographer made sure to hold onto that for the end credits. “Well, it’ll probably take some time, but I’ll find your cast and get started on it. Anything else for me?”

The Doctor smiled, reaching into his desk and sliding a promotional medal across it. “Payment in advance. Thanks for your help and discretion.”

“Wow…Of course, Doctor. Let me know when you’ve got another project for me.”

“I will when you’re finished with this one,” he confirmed. “Dismissed.”

Well shit, time to make a movie, then.

-----

What If? Misha Never Becomes Skullshatterer

The conditions to save Misha are, to put it lightly, difficult to achieve. For starters, her brother Skullshatterer’s death ultimately led her to take Reunion’s side; this means either her brother must be saved as well, OR they can’t meet each other for long enough for Skullshatterer to reveal his identity to her. Frankly, the scenarios in which W encounters her are often too far along the ‘failure’ branch to bring Misha on-side…However, with some alterations to events proceeding, perhaps she could have been saved.

“Can I ask... where we're going?” Misha [played by Absinthe] asked Amiya [herself] as Rhodes Island moved her from the area, Exusiai [herself] in the lead.

“We’re meeting with the LGD.” Amiya replied, brow furrowed. It didn’t sit entirely right with her, but Lungmen would be better equipped to defend innocents. “They will protect you.”

The Doctor [played by Ethan in a full Doctor costume] shook his head. “Amiya, you know we can’t do that.”

“Doctor?”

“That’s trading a sheep to a wolf in exchange for feed for the flock.” He looked at Misha, hood and mask completely obscuring his face. “No, we’re not giving her to the LGD. One more *cough* for the caravan is manageable.”

The Ursus was getting mixed signals. “So you…aren’t taking me to the LGD.”

“We aren’t leaving you with them. They have a reason for wanting to speak with you, and we had to agree to work with them to get this far, but they can have the conversation with us in the room. The only people I trust are the ones walking beside me. Either way, we have to dodge Reunion.” [A direct quote from the journal entry]

“...Reunion?” Misha asked. “I’ve never heard of Reunion.”

Amiya nodded. “They’re Infected, like us, but they believe that the only way for us to survive is to destroy anyone who isn’t Infected.”

“Are they the people you’re fighting?” Gunshots from up ahead - Exusiai and Texas were clearing a route to the LGD rendezvous.

“They’re the people attacking us, yes.” The Doctor looked around, frowning. “Ambush up ahead. They’re corralling us…Misha, do you know the two ways to stop violence?”

Certainly not asked so directly. “Um, no?”

“Violence is a short-term solution to violence; it’s a cycle that may halt for a moment, but will grind on forever without a more permanent solution. The other way to stop violence is diplomacy.”

“Doctor?” The Cautus at his side could sense where this was leading. “Are you sure we have an option of that sort here?”

He nodded. “There’s no other way. If there’s any way to stop the bleeding, we have to attempt it…Misha? Amiya? Come with me. Liskarm, Ex, take cover and hold your fire! Hands up, like mine…Good.”

“Hey!” A Reunion thug ran towards them, crowbar in hand, but upon seeing the trio with hands raised, he stopped.

“Good, you noticed.” The Doctor stared at the antagonist, hoping his mask could conceal his contempt as well. “We want to negotiate.”

The thug raised their crowbar. “Do you now? What changed?”

“Changed? Nothing’s changed. I want to talk to whoever’s giving you your orders to make something change.”

“...Hey, Skull!” He turned around and called out. Behind him, Liskarm lined up a shot but was waved down by the Doctor. “They’ve got Misha, and they wanna talk!”

Skullshatterer, weapons in full view, approached them. “Talk? Rhodes Island? You cowards-”

“I stopped running.” The Doctor removed the glove from his right hand.

“And? We’ve got you cornered.” His eyes passed over the trio, softening when turning to Misha. “It’s really you.”

Amiya stepped in front of her. “What do you want with her?”

“What do you? Aren’t you just helping Lungmen kill our brothers and sisters?” He pointed his weapon at an empty corner of the alleyway and fired.

“So that’s what they’re telling you, is it?” The Doctor sighed. “Look, the only reason we’re here is because of what happened in Chernobog. If you’re so bothered by the deaths of Infected, why are leading them on suicide missions against armed militias and police forces? Rhodes Island is trying to cure the Infection, but since we can’t do that, we’re trying to get the funds we need to fuel our research. What are you accomplishing, other than burning down our brothers’ homes and killing our sisters’ sons and daughters? Hmm?”

That stopped the Reunion leader in his tracks. “That’s not-”

“That’s exactly what you’ve done. Have you considered that your group’s actions have put Chernobog on a collision course with Lungmen?”

“What?” Everyone’s heads turned to the Doctor. “What do you mean?”

He pointed to the sky. “I mean exactly what I said. We have been shooting and stabbing and slaughtering each other, both sides in the name of improving the lives of the Infected, while an entire city of people is aimed at the backs of our heads. Whatever your leader claims, what they want is death and destruction, and unfortunately, Rhodes Island’s been playing right into your hands as well. So, if you want to keep fighting and dying, we can do that…What I want to know is what you want with Misha, and why you can’t let us take her out of the city to treat her infection, which if a stray crossbow bolt doesn’t kill her will more slowly and far more painfully.”

“...Misha.” Skullshatterer removed his mask.

“Alex?!” Misha took a step forward, grimacing as a sharp pain ran up her leg. “Ow…”

As Amiya called for a medic to help her treat the sudden spike in her symptoms, the Doctor looked at the young man standing before him. “You know her?”

“She’s my sister.” He dropped his weapons to approach her.

“Your sister?” The Doctor nodded. “And this was your idea, to ambush us and attack us with explosives and Arts and projectiles while we had her with us?”

He kneeled at her side, taking her hand as the medic assisting in her treatment gave her an injection of suppressive medicines. “I didn’t…I just wanted her by my side again.”

“And you wanted her to help you destroy Lungmen?”

“I…” Skullshatterer turned to glare at his philosophical enemy. “You’re trying to trick me.”

The Doctor sighed. “No, your leaders have done a good enough job of that. I’m trying to stop the bleeding, like I said. We want Misha safe and treated; frankly, if you can help us get her back to our ship, we can show you just how aligned your interests and ours truly are, as long as you understand that whatever you’ve been told, Reunion is not fighting for the betterment of the Infected.”

“He’s got a lot of hot air, I’ll give him that. For once it almost makes sense.” W commented from the shadows, flipping a detonator in the air.

“W?” The other Reunion leader growled as his mind and heart went to war internally. “I thought I-”

She kicked a rock towards him. “There’s two things I wanted out of this: him dead, and Talulah to lose. If I can’t have the first one, I really want the second. Only problem is my little toys are going to either take out this whole block or nothing at all…So if you want to walk out of here with your lil’ sis alive and kicking, you’ll want to follow lil’ Bunny and her friends back to their boat.”

“They don’t want to take me to the LGD, Alex…They’re not bad people…and the medicine is working.” Misha certainly still hurt, but it was weaker than before.

“...Alright.” He grabbed his weapons again. “I don’t trust you as far as I could blast you, but if you really want to help us-”

The Doctor held out his hand. “Shake on it. I’ll do everything in my power to save as many lives as I can; you’ll help us convince Reunion to stand down, to a man, so we can stop your leader - Talulah, if I heard that right? - from destroying two cities in the name of Infected rights.”

“And you didn’t hear it from me~” W left the scene, onto her rendezvous with Lungmen’s ‘finest’.

“I’ll shake on it.” Alex took the offered hand and shook. His grip was noticeably stronger than his counterpart’s. “Everyone! We’re heading to Rhodes Island’s headquarters! Defend yourselves, but do not engage unless absolutely necessary! I’m not losing more friends today if I can help it.”

Amiya looked around at the situation, saw that words had won over guns, and thought to herself, ‘Perhaps there can be a peaceful solution to all of this?’

…Of course, we know that’s not what happened.

Misha’s death, as terrible as any death is, acted as a catalyst. Without the experiences of defeating Reunion’s more sympathetic lower-level leaders, she wouldn’t be prepared to fight Kaschey alongside Ch’en. While there’s no such thing as a ‘necessary evil,’ Hell isn’t paved with only abject villainy, but good intentions as well. If the Doctor had stepped in here, Reunion wouldn’t have simply allowed them to live; they would have been cut down, portrayed as ‘traitors to the Infected cause,’ and the Black Snake would have had no one to step in his way.

Would you really trade the city of Lungmen for Misha’s life?

Would you really sacrifice thousands for a few names you recognize?

Is your heart so calloused to justify mass casualties to spare yourself a moment’s heartbreak?

Part One of Rhodes Island’s What If series. Funded by Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals.

[Roll Credits]

[saucylittlesmile]

Second day of ice dance at Nationals 2023…

I was shocked in a sad way at how empty the arena was - a Saturday afternoon. I don’t know if it’s Covid related, or the lack of star-power in Canadian skating, or a badly promoted event, but I’ve never been to a competition at this level on a weekend with so few people.

I know it’s just a set timing thing, but watching them resurface the ice after the last flight of women and then resurface the ice again after three (3!) ice dance teams but then let the next eight dance teams skate through… that is something

I was listening to the bluesy music of Robinson/Portz, and remembering how I always wanted VM to skate to a bluesy program, only to realize later that they were a Scott team lol

I really enjoyed Emmy and Jacob’s program - their fall was so unexpected and just when she had recovered beautifully, he had his twizzle trouble - still it was a good program and at least with a non-technical eye they looked good

was happy for Mikita/Gunara to have a better FD after their fall yesterday

really enjoyed Henson/Lickers program - I’d watched it before but wasn’t as sold as I know others were, but live I really appreciated it

I did not appreciate Lanaghan/Razgulajevs - the most I can say is that they certainly did stand out, which is obviously what they were going for, but I just found the overall to be trying too hard to be quirky

Sales/Wamsteeker - well it’s Phantom so they had their work cut out for them for me to like it lol - it was fine. His shirt had me thinking of Scott’s 2010 farrucas.

Soucisse/Firus were at their peak

I’ve enjoyed Lauriault/Legac’s Pink Panther program this season and it worked for me live, they really had the crowd’s support (and got everyone a little more lively)

Lajoie/Lagha’s program was the one I wanted to see the most. It was really well done, but I think it actually translated better on screen than in person, or at least this time. Or maybe my angle? Or thst zi was judt nervous for them? But they were just lovely. Still glad they have two such different programs this year, with a lot of outward expression in the SD but very introspective and personal interaction in the FD. And rewarded with a Zak smile in the K&C - small as it was lol.

Canadanes were skating so well -strong and smooth, and the ending music just kicked up the energy - at the time I knew something had gone wrong in that last moment but couldn’t tell what until I saw the replay in the jumbotron. MF was very involved in their choreo, very intense at those boards lol

Still I was surprised at how close the scores were and how close the overall was, as I had my mind thinking I knew the result beforehand. I still haven’t looked at the scoresheets to know the specifics. I saw L/L and Canadanes on screen since - yeah, to me L/L looked better from that perspective; but I’m okay with the Canadanes winning just because either way I’d have been crushed. Really the only solution is to have GP withdraw. ;)

that the skaters on the podium all train together meant that the vibe felt very friendly and supportive and it’s a credit to the school and coaches and skaters for keeping it that way - even if they were competing fir the same spots they were just out there trying to each do their best

we gave them (and the women) a standing ovation on their victory lap and it just lit everyone right up 😃😃😃

saw Scott and Adrian and (and I think Nathan) along with others doing a group photo out in the concourse. I’m not someone comfortable approaching that but it was a little oh! moment

coach Scott is harder to take photos of - I mean, I didn’t put much time of effort into it but aside from the fuzzy-blur, there was often a coach head tilt, a coach chin tuck, and a serious expression. Don’t think I got anything worth sharing but I’ll take a look sometime.

[coralwinchester-blog]

WARNING!! LONG DEPRESSING RANT!!

I found myself at what I have determined was the lowest point of my life so far. Lower than in high school when my depression got so bad that I wanted to kill myself and almost did a couple times. It was awful back then, but I had outlets and tools to help me. At 21 years old, I no longer had a happy place to go to. I failed out of college and lost all of my passions. The relationship that I was in was drowning me in a puddle of poison. The house that I lived in felt like a prison cell that was guarded by the officer that framed me for the crime. The only place I could get away from the officer was hiding under the bed and that’s such a cramped area and impossible to stay there forever.

And then I left. I left the city. I left the state. I left my friends behind and moved on to a place I never thought I’d go. My only friend in the new city was my dog, named by my ex and I will forever be reminded of that. But he was still my support and comfort.

I found a job immediately. 7 months later, I was promoted. 8 months after that I was promoted again. It feels good to be good at something. But being good at what I do doesn’t keep the empty feeling from coming back. There’s a lot of down time at work. Time to accidentally reflect and depress myself even more. My stress acne won’t go away. No matter how often I get promoted, it’s never enough money to relieve my stress.

My dog. My friend. My baby. He’s the sweetest, but not the smartest. He swallowed a toy. He needed surgery or euthanasia. Tearfully, I turn to my mother for help. Mom, I’m not ready to let him go. I need him. With a sigh, mom allows me to use her credit card with the promise that I’ll pay back every penny, even interest. I agree. Dog gets surgery and makes a fine recovery. $3,000. I feel robbed blind, but at least my baby is alive. No more toys for him. Six months later, he gets into the trash and swallows something else he can’t pass. Reluctantly mom allows me to use her card again. Another $3,000. Dad is angry that I would spend so much on a dog. I am yet again relieved that my best friend is still alive.

I am privileged. I live with my parents at a discounted rate. I have friends in the new city too, along with some friends in other cities. The internet is great for that. I have acquired the title and pay of “supervisor” at work. My life looks great. Like I’m on my way to living a successful life. I was able to take two different trips, each to see different friends in different cities. People are jealous. And those times are great, but the feelings that the moments bring are temporary. I go back to my regular life and the emptiness starts again. I shouldn’t say that. It never left. It was just covered by serotonin. I can admit my privilege, but I cannot feel it.

Dad is an alcoholic. He is sober again for now. Mom is afraid that his addiction will be passed down. Alcohol makes my tummy hurt if I drink too much. But it has been passed down. Alcohol just isn’t my drug of choice. Some may assume that it’s sugar, because I’m fat. While that may also be the case, it’s not what I got from my dad. I smoke marijuana every night that I can. It’s the best sleep of my life. It’s also the best orgasm, but I won’t talk about that. I joke about being a stoner, but I also feel dread inside. I’m no better than dad. Of course, I always stay safe. I never smoke when I have to work or drive. I really am sober most of the day. But when night comes, I take a 10mg gummy and smoke until my head spins. I love that feeling. But that love is what fills me with dread, knowing I’m just like my father.

All of this has taken place in the time span of less than 2 years. I still feel lost. I don’t know what my future holds and it’s painful knowing that I cannot plan that far ahead. I don’t know what I can do in life to get rid of the emptiness. Is this just what life is? Living with the empty feeling forever because your dreams will never be achieved? It feels like everything I do is working toward nothing. I am afraid that I’ll never be able to commit. I am still paying off the $2700 engagement ring that I picked out. He promised he would help pay for it, we just had to use my credit because his was terrible. Now I still have the ring, the debt, and the regret. I was the one who broke things off, and yet I am still the one full of resentment. I tell people I haven’t dated anyone because my standards are higher. I don’t want anyone remotely like him. But really, I’m just terrified. The one time I had sex after him, I was drunk and it was disastrous. Im afraid to let anyone see my body anymore. Im afraid to let anyone know who I am anymore. Im afraid of the internal disgust that I convince myself they feel when they see me. I am only 22. I know I have time. But I don’t know how else to heal from this besides be brave and just do it. I always convince myself not to, though.

If you got this far, I’m sorry, you definitely should have scrolled. But thank you for taking the time to listen. It feels like the notes app on my phone is a terrible listener lately. And I don’t want to say all of this to my best friend. They have enough to worry about.

In case anyone did read this, I want to ensure you that I am okay. I know this post is scary and depressive, but writing is the best way to lighten the load that I carry. I am okay.

[moonctzeny]

Promotion

This is technically a part 2 of my fic Work for it but it can be enjoyed on its own!

pairing: supervisor !johnny x intern ! female reader x assistant !haechan

genre: smutty goodness (this will send me to hell vip)

word count: almost 14k

summary: “After you fuck the Sales’ department supervisor, Johnny Suh in your office during an overtime, you’re left to deal with the unavoidable lingering emotions that come with getting his dick on the regular. At the same time, his assistant and your best work buddy, Donghyuck, who initially helped you with getting with his boss, realises his growing crush on you that is too big to be ignored at this point. With their masterful skills in seduction, you’ve ended up tangled in a sexual game with the both of them, all the while trying to move up from an intern to a permanent worker in the company”

warnings: threesome w/ two doms, alcohol consumption, mention of food (meat, lettuce, eggs), oral, overstimulation, thigh job, at some point- reader borrows a shirt from haechan and it’s mentioned that it’s ‘too big on the shoulders’, thigh riding, office sex, pussy slapping, choking, fingering, sir kink thrown in there at some point, a little degradation bc this is my fic we’re talking about

a/n: omg it’s finally done! I really love this so I hope you guys like it as well :)

taglist:  @rainodanna​, @markresonates​, @unknown5tar​, @yoongsicles​

For every other worker in the office, virtually nothing had changed. 

They relive the same mundane routine, Monday after Monday, the same excruciating 8 hours and short cigarette breaks. The same trees, stuck in their ceramic imprisonment would greet them in the company’s entrance. Rigid and dusty and reeking of cheap plastic. It’s not like they’d come alive, open their little mouths on their thylakoid membranes and tell everyone you fucked mr. Suh, the Sales Department’s supervisor, in your office during your overtime. No, that’s not possible, you reminded yourself when you pass by them every morning, giving them a side eye for good measure, as if that would scare them off their zombie state.

And you were the same too, completing your tasks and meeting your deadlines. Blending in with the rest of the company’s human resource, with the exception of the occasional double take of some tactless male worker here and there.

Donghyuck, however, said supervisor’s assistant and your best friend, wasn’t your typical office worker. He noticed the extra layer of cherry lip gloss coating your lips. He noticed your new perfume, sweeter than the one you used to wear. He noticed the knowing smiles between you and his boss, the heat of your body when you were around him. And it wasn’t just because he was sharp overall.

He was the one who practically got you together, planted the seed in Johnny’s head about the cute new intern of the Financial Department. He was the one who convinced him to finally make a move on you, tired of seeing you trying over and over again to seduce the supervisor to your bed. 

And when that seed finally sprouted, in the form of Johnny spitting in your mouth and taking you on your office chair like you were his last fuck on earth (according to the hair-raising description you gave Donghyuck the morning after), he should’ve been happy, right? 

It didn’t really affect his life in the slightest.

You were just y/n. His friend, his work buddy. The person whom he was close enough to let you know you had a piece of lettuce stuck on your teeth from that sandwich you had on your break. The person who texted him funny gifs of pandas falling asleep during the most boring of meetings. With your nerdy glasses and that ugly brown suit you loved wearing so much. The person he dreamt of fucking every time he fell asleep.

When you told Donghyuck you had a crush on his boss he wasn’t shocked, but the stinging buzz in his guts surprised him. He would see you waltz right past his office all perked up and pretty, to see the person you really came for, nervous as you hung from every word that left Johnny’s mouth. He’d put up with the sound of you giggling over every stupid joke that left the older man’s mouth patiently, just to wait until he’d smell your sweet perfume as you’d walk past him again. To tease you over something that would make you mad enough to notice him, glare at him, maybe even hit him.

And Donghyuck wanted to hate Johnny, he really did. His stupid boss who asked for his coffee specifically made, who was rude and cranky on Monday mornings and got the credit for all his hard work, yet Johnny was nothing of the sort. He was helpful, and kind and let him off early. He was funny and good looking and taller than him and had a six pack, damn it. If Donghyuck was being honest, he didn’t just like his boss, he admired him. It was pathetic, he thought. Most days he’d live vicariously through him. 

Sometimes he would lay on his bed at night, picturing himself to be the second lead of a romance drama that would sweep you off your feet. Everyone gets second lead fever, right? In his rem cycles, he’s handsome and hilarious and much more interesting than the main actor. He would imagine himself stretching out his rays, like the full, rising sun that he was, until they overcame the big mountain that was Johnny and reached your skin. So hot against it that you’d have to undress, remove the clothes sticking on your sweaty skin to embrace him. 

He thought about your body a hundred times too many for it to be considered healthy. The curve of your ass in your pencil skirts, the little hairs on the nape of your neck that stuck out from your tight ponytails. The runs on your tights that he wished were caused by the sharpness of his fingernails. He listened to your voice carefully, all 90 Hz of it, and played it inside his head as if it was an instrument. Putting together chords and harmonies, composing a music piece of all the ways his name would sound like coming out of your lips.

Donghyuck, Donghyuck, Donghyuck

“Earth to Donghyuck? Are you listening to me?”

It was unlike him to be out of it, especially when he was around you. He blames it on skipping coffee this morning or the shade of red of your blouse that fits you so well. Either way, he had to respond, and keep the pink from flooding his cheeks further. There’s no way you could’ve known what was going on inside his head.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. So, let me get this straight. Weren’t you the one who didn’t want a relationship?”

You were upset, he could tell. After the night of the overtime, you and Johnny had indulged in a few more nights of each other’s presence, but had kept it at that. Sex. Delicious, mind blowing, porno worthy sex, but nothing more than that. And you were starting to itch for a little bit more.

Donghyuck was right, of course. You were the one who told Johnny that this wasn’t the right time in your life for any sort of commitment, especially with someone in the workplace. This was your internship, and you were determined to get a permanent position soon, that should be your first priority. Get the bag and go. There were men everywhere. But why was your heart aching for that particular one with the long hair and the caramel eyes and the flower tattoos? 

“I just don’t want people at work to gossip about us, you know how they get. But seeing him so nonchalant about it gets on my nerves.”

Leaving his apartment at 2 am when he was sprawled out on his bed, in just pyjama pants and the light layer of sweat from the athletic sex you just had, hurt enough. It was a sight so beautifully hidden under his work attire that it soon became addictive, the withdrawal symptoms too intense for you to have your dose only once a week. 

Donghyuck scowled when you first let out a frustrated sigh, your eyes pitifully following his boss’s silhouette around. He knew you’d never really complain about it, you were set on that promotion and you deserved it too, but it was hard not to get angry. Everything he ever wanted stood willing and ready for taking in front of Johnny’s lap, how could he not claim you?

He hated seeing you sad.

“Let’s go for a drink. I think you need it.”

Even he surprised himself with the sudden proposition, blinking back at you to gauge your reaction. You were best work buddies, sure, but you never hung out after office hours alone. It would make sense for you to refuse, Donghyuck told himself, trying to soften the blow of a potential rejection. You’re probably tired from working, or maybe you’d feel awkward to be alone with him for so long. Maybe you hated to drink, or maybe you hated him. Oh God, what if you hated him? What if you only spent time with him out of social obligat-

“Sure, sounds good. Pick me up after you’re done? Since you’re on the top floor.”

Donghyuck nodded back at you, too eagerly for his liking, the gears in his brain already trying to figure out where he should take you. You excused yourself back to your office, the small pat you gave his shoulder making him grin like an idiot.

This is not a date, he reminded himself. 

He had dreamt of this moment for months now. He thought about you every time he walked past that korean bbq place, promising himself that one day he’d muster the courage to finally ask you out. This wasn’t exactly the case today, but it was as close to his imagination as possible. This is not a date.

He repeated that phrase over and over again, let it resonate inside his head. This is not a date because he is a coward and you like someone else. Was he a bad person for taking you out today? Was he taking advantage of your slight disappointment? Was that why you ever said yes in the first place? The self deprecating thoughts lit a fire in his belly and he tried to extinguish it with every shot of clear liquid that disappeared from between his full lips. Like he expected, you weren’t far behind on the drinking either, enjoying the grilled pieces of meat blissfully, moaning in satisfaction with every delicious bite.

You looked pretty before, but now, through the pink coloured glasses of intoxication, you were stunning. There was a halo of bright light surrounding you, making you look so celestial chomping on that piece of lettuce. If it was anyone else, he would pull a face of repugnance at the sight, yet Dongyuck thought that you just looked so cute, so content in that little moment and he wished he could just lean in and leave a kiss over your filled cheeks.

No, that was a dangerous thought. This is not a date, pull it together.

Donghyuck desperately tried to focus his attention somewhere else, anywhere but you would suffice. His eyes finally landed on a bowl of marinated eggs on the table, and it reminded him of the three boiled eggs he makes for breakfast every morning. He was a man of habit, following the same routine until he’d see you and you’d colour between the lines of his life, making it interesting finally. Donghyuck would fill the pot with more water than needed, just enough so that it doesn’t overflow. He liked to be closer to you than he could handle, close enough but never touching you.

Lost in his daydream, he doesn’t realise that he hasn’t talked in minutes. And when you touch his hand lightly with yours to bring him out of it, he almost feels the boiling water burning his skin.

“You’re so quiet”, you say with a chuckle, and Donghyuck makes a mental note to add this harmony to his composition, “you got drunk before I did? Are you really Lee Donghyuck?”

“Well see, I drank all this soju, so I wish I was someone else for the night.”

The statement saddened you, and you withered a little in your seat. Why did Donghyuck drink so much tonight? You came here for you to cheer up, didn’t you? Or were you so caught up in your little personal drama - that you caused yourself - that you missed hearing about his cat dying? You must offer your condolences. Did he even have a cat?

You don’t want to bring up his dead cat in case he did so you just lift your hand next to his head, and weave your fingers through his locks. He has been growing out his hair for months now, and the look might not be the most corporate-professional but it sure fit him. The ash blonde shade that he decided to colour it, brought out the tan of his skin nicely, and the hair itself though bleached was still soft to the touch. 

You see him react to the work of your fingers instantly, his expression shocking you. His mouth is hanging open in a loose ‘O’ shape, small wrinkles forming on the space between his eyebrows. You pick out small pieces of hair, one by one, letting gravity do the rest by allowing the individual hairs to return to their previous state. 

“What are you thinking about?”, you ask so softly it’s almost a whisper, and Donghyuck can only sigh.

YOU, he wants to scream, you’re in my mind all day long and I think I’m going crazy! He is full on staring at you now and there’s nothing in the world that can take his eyes off of you, off your worried eyes that seem to hold all the stars in the sky, or the soft skin of your neck that he wants to kiss and suck and break so badly. But he doesn’t, and the soju calls him a coward for it, so he settles for the next best thing.

“You are pretty”

It was just three words but they sent your mind in a frenzy. Why did it matter so much to you that Donghyuck found you pleasing to look at? He has complimented you before, even flirted with you a lot of times, yet it was always said half-jokingly, followed by a diss. But this time he was serious, no signs of alcohol clouding his eyes. He was so solemn in fact, that those three words made the heat burn on the skin of your cheeks, rising up your throat and hindering you from responding with a human sound. 

He takes one more shot, washing away the embarrassment of his sudden confession and offers to order one more fatty dish to sober up, then take a walk in the city.

The walk was relatively quiet, less awkward than it was 30 minutes ago but Donghyuck was still being uncharacteristically silent.

“I thought you said that alcohol doesn’t make you red”, you say teasingly, trying to spark conversation. 

It doesn’t actually. You were the culprit of the wash of burgundy all over his skin, accumulating even more pigmented around his ears and the freckles of his nose. You were walking side by side now, and Donghyuck thought that for the passersby you two must look like lovers. He let his brain entertain that fantasy, his hand itching to hold yours. He’d intertwine your fingers together, give your palm a little rub with his thumb. Then he’d lift the bundle of fingers on his lips, kiss the thin skin of your wrist and make the aunties that are looking at you now coo in adoration.

“Says you. You look so fucked right now.”, he jokes and you’re relieved to see him go back to his teasing self. You don’t know if it’s the chilly night, but you’re overly aware of the heat his body emits, and the smell of his cologne makes your head spin just a bit more. You’ve been sitting so close to him this entire time that you can list off most, if not all, the ingredients in his perfume. Rose, chilly pepper, orange blossom, lavender. 

“Donghyuck, I will step on you.”

“Mmm, tempting”

You shove his arm playfully and he reciprocates, but his strength is not as controlled as he thinks. The heels of your boots, slippery against the wet floor that the drizzle caused earlier, make you trip on your steps, and Hyuck is luckily there. With his quick reflexes he catches your elbows first, pulling you up against his chest and you grab his left bicep to support your weight. 

You take a deep breath, to register that you did not fall head first on the floor, and that’s when you realise how close Donghyuck is to you. His bangs are tickling your forehead, your deep pants fanning them apart. You admire his glowing skin, the wrinkles of his lips, the two moles lined parallelly with the bridge of his nose. You’re not sure what comes to you, but you raise your free hand and place it over his hot cheek, your thumb connecting those two moles with an invisible line. A raindrop, fresh out of the sky and signifying the start of a new drizzle, falls on his face and follows the trail that a tear would, his voice weak and breaking when he speaks again.

“I’m sorry”

He dips down his head then, connecting your lips and letting the plumpness of his mouth reel you in. You’re over the initial shock almost immediately and kiss him back in vigor, surprised with the heat his kiss has spread to your chest and belly. It was an ember at first, glowing in the very depth of your insides but it was soon starting to spark up uncontrollably, and you were scared of how rapidly it was fueling up. This was your friend you were kissing. So where did all this hunger for him come from?

You pull back when you realise you’re in a road full of people, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him in the eyes. Donghyuck looks disheveled and anxious, and he apologizes again before he urges you to keep walking with him.

“It’s starting to rain. We should get home.”

You walk next to him in complete silence now, stealing quick glances of his reflexion at every surface that made it possible -  the windows of the parked cars, the puddles of water on the sidewalk, a passersby’s glasses. The look on his face is unreadable, pensive if anything else, and it’s rare for the expressive Donghyuck you’re used to dealing with. Your homes are towards the same direction, his a little closer than yours, and it doesn’t take too long for you to reach the entrance of his building, your clothes not even half wet from walking without umbrellas.

Donghyuck fumbles to find his keys, his hands shaking from the adrenaline his body released from the kiss earlier, the feeling still too fresh against his lips. He stresses thinking of what to do next. Should he hug you goodnight? Apologize again for kissing you? Unlock the entrance without a word and never speak to you again? 

“I’m here”, he states dumbly, as if you’d sit at the porch of a strange house and he avoids your eyes as if you were Medusa, “Goodnight.”

You smile back awkwardly at him, waving with a hand made of clay as you wish him the same. He has turned around to unlock the door, key already at the keyhole and you turn to leave too when his voice stills you in place.

“He’s an idiot.” His back is still facing you, and when he turns to look at you his eyes finally lock with yours, as honest and earnest as ever. “Johnny. If it were me, hell, if you wanted me like that I would grab that opportunity- grab you in an instant, convince you to be mine any way I could.”

You’re stuck looking at him like a fool, trying to comprehend what he’s saying and the complications of it. He puffs out through his nose, chuckling to himself and shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter. Goodnight y/n.”

Donghyuck is half inside the entrance now and your body suddenly exits its frozen state, blocking the door from closing with your boot. He’s shocked with the sudden movement and he opens up the door further for you. You get inside the little hall without thinking, sitting firmly in front of him, a puzzled look on his face. 

“What if I told you he hasn’t even crossed my mind this whole time we were out? What if I told you I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you kissed me? Would it matter then?”

He opens his mouth momentarily, as if to speak but decides to stay silent. He already said everything he needed. It’s up to you now.

And you aren’t ready to leave yet.

You take a step forward to close the distance between you, your chests touching and you pick up the distinct smell of soju in his breath. You’re not sure if it’s that smell or the proximity but you feel drunk all over again, the yellow light of the hall shining disturbingly bright down at you and urging you to do something.

You plant a kiss over his neck, leaving a trace of the remnants of the pink lipstick you applied at the start of the workday. It was tentative, but you could still feel his raging pulse from under your lips. You could feel it get faster too, the rhythm going higher along with his body temperature and you decide on a path. A path of kisses starting from the same spot you’ve turned glittery pink, up his jawline and all the way to his earlobe.

Donghyuck clenches his jawline, you feel that too, and something snaps inside him. He just can’t take it anymore, having you so close to him, your lips on his neck and doing nothing about it. The boiling water finally spilled over the pot, hot and overflowing, and he doesn’t care if he gets burned.

You feel the cool wood against your back before you taste his tongue a second after. He has pushed you up against the entrance door, you realize, but it’s hard to comprehend anything around you when he kisses you like that. It’s the steamy, purposeful continuation of the kiss you shared earlier, and with the lack of prying eyes Donghyuck has a good idea of where he wants it to lead.

He shows you too, pushing his knee between your thighs and he feels your heat almost melt the rough fabric of his jeans. There are so many things he wants to do, so many lines he wants to cross but there is one thing he must ensure.

“Tell me you want this.”

You glide your hands upwards from his pecks to the slope of his neck and wrap them around his neck. Your body seems to act up on its own, and you feel yourself grinding down his leg that is still positioned against the wall. It feels dirty, the desperation of it all, and you connect your chest with his again before answering him.

“Lee Donghyuck. I want you to make me cum” 

You grab his hand before he gets to respond, the cool silver of his watch digging against your fingers, and you drag him to the elevator door. As if the universe had sensed your urgency, you find it waiting for you at the bottom floor, and you pull him inside with a tug of his tie.

In no time you find yourself pushed up against the wall again, and you can’t see much beyond Donghyuck’s lips, but you do catch him clumsily pressing the button to his floor with your peripheral vision. Once the elevator is in motion you feel like you can finally submerge yourself in his lips and the way his kisses take your breath away, not sure if the funny feeling in your stomach is from the sudden change in altitude or the arousal. You’re already taking his clothes off, removing the jacket of his suit off his shoulders and working the top buttons of his shirt open.

It’s him that drags you to his apartment this time, urging you out of the elevator as soon as the robotic declaim of his floor number rips through the wet sounds of you kissing. His keys are already easily accessible in his front pocket from your conversation earlier, and when he manages to unlock the entrance with trembling hands you walk inside as if you own the place.

It’s small and cozy, decorated minimally. The first thing you notice is that it smells like Donghyuck, something that should be obvious but it still overwhelms you. It’s maybe a bit stuffy from the hours he was gone yet this is the smell still lingering in your nose from his skin you were sucking just moments ago, trying to distract him from the easy task of opening the door. It’s addictive and you want it stuck on yours.

And Donghyuck does stick on your skin, discarding his tie on the floor with a strong pull and finishing the task of unbuttoning his shirt that you started in the elevator. His movements are impatient and soon he’s half naked, and you barely have time to admire his caramel skin before his hands are all over you. They start safely at the dimples of your waist, then sliding upwards to your ribcage and copping a feel of the underside of your boobs by sneaking his thumbs under the wire of your bra. You want to feel more, encourage his probing fingers so you reach to the clasp on your back, unfastening the garment and removing it through the hem of your blouse. 

Donghyuck can’t take his eyes off your chest, nipples hardened from your arousal and poking through the thin fabric. He takes his thumbs, the same thumbs that lit a fire in your belly earlier and flips the bud, toying it around and rubbing circles around it. The response from you is immediate, moans that start off soft and build up to a crescendo bouncing off the walls of his apartment.

It drives you crazy, a little bit, that smirk he has on his face now. It’s so familiar in between his features, you’ve seen it countless of times, especially during his typical teasings of you, yet is carries so much newfound weight now, so much sex appeal. He’s already giving you what you need but the climaxing is too slow for your liking, you want more and you want it now. You want what you asked him for in the lobby of this building.

Donghyuck can either read your mind or read through the increased frequency of your moans because he undresses down to his boxers, forming a trail of clothes from his living room to his bedroom, where he has led you. He doesn’t even bother to open the lights, relying on the moonlight from his window for lighting and pushing you down on his bedsheets. 

He climbs up with you, hovering over you and you move back a bit so that your head rests comfortably over his pillows. If the smile he gave you earlier had affected you, then the hungry look on his face right now almost makes you come untouched, his eyes raking up and down your body as if he doesn’t know where to start.

He decides on your calves, kissing them and moving upwards slowly and sensually, not missing the sensitive skin on the side of your knees and paying extra attention to your inner thighs. He’s still at it a minute and a half later, and you can’t tell in the dark but you’re sure they must be decorated by bite marks by now, his close proximity to the source of your pleasure making you squirm in his hold.  

It feels like ages since you last felt his fingers when he grips the soft meat of your thighs and spreads them apart. They soon move up to the hem of your skirt, rolling the fabric upwards and over your ass. You feel his breath against your pussy, making it tingle and twitch even more than it already has, and the wait feels like a new level of hell in Dante’s Inferno. 

A single finger pets you over your underwear, drawing lines over the damp fabric from your clit down to your entrance and then up again. You whimper and whine at the sensation that is half a step from what you consider satisfactory and he hooks a finger on the black lace, moving it to the side and letting you experience the cool air of the room all over again. The full exposure brings heat to your face and you breathe through the embarrassment that arouses you even more.

“Hey, Donghyuck?”

“Yes?”

“Is your cat still alive?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He licks one long stripe over your entrance, and you feel the goosebumps spreading all over your arms and legs. Nimble fingers spread your folds apart, and you hold your breath as he lets his cool spit drip from his lips and land onto your lower ones, then starts sucking over your clit. His tongue is wet and his breath is hot, the combination driving you insane. You grip the comforter, digging into it with your nails to keep yourself grounded.

“Oh my god, yes, right there”

The praise motivates him to keep trying hard, not that it will take a lot of effort to make you come undone. Donghyuck’s unprecedented touches and the newfound sexual tension they have ignited had already worked you up, his skill in oral accelerating the build up to your climax even more. And just when you thought it couldn’t get better than this he starts a series of kitten licks right over your clit, each one sending a wave of pleasure stronger than the one before.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum”

You’re grinding on his face, trying to find the right pace when you finally come undone, thighs shaking and desperately trying to push his hands away to cover up your sensitivity again. His hold is steady and he continues to lick you keenly, the lewd sound of him slurping your wetness filling the room. Your eyes open wide and you can only stare at his white ceiling during your overstimulation, the cracks and crumbling plaster caused from humidity looking like constellations in your orgasm-drunk mind. The second climax hits you suddenly but forcefully, unable to control the volume of your voice, not that you can hear yourself clearly in your daze. It’s an array of moans and screams and tiny whimpers of Donghyuck’s name, his beautiful symphony coming to life.

His appetite for you is finally satiated, and he decides to take mercy on you and remove his lips from your pulsating heat. You look so beautiful right now, he thinks, skin illuminated by the pale moonlight that is reflected on the wetness dripping from your pussy. He hovers over you again, pulling you into another kiss and you lazily reciprocate. His member is painfully hard, sliding over your slickness. You squirm and yelp everytime the fabric of his underwear grazes against your clit, your nerve endings screaming in sensitivity.

“I don’t have a condom on me”, you whisper against his lips, the taste of yourself on his tongue engaging you in the kiss again.

“I’m too tired to fuck you like you deserve anyways”

It would be criminal from you to leave him untouched like that. He looks so hot over you, messy hair and chin glistening in your juices. You absentmindedly place your nails on his collarbones, then scratch your way down over his navel. Donghyuck hisses at the numb stinging of pain, hips buckling against your pussy in the pursuit of some sort of friction. 

You move your hand even lower, slipping your fingers past the waistband of his boxers. You move past the bristles you find and grasp his member, that is not too long but an impressive girth. You manage to free it from his underwear, and you can’t really tell in the dim lighting but you bet it must have turned a purple-ish red colour. It’s leaking.

“But we don’t have a condom”

You take one of his hands in yours, giving it a kiss to calm him down, then place it over your left boob. He toys with the mound of your chest, squeezing the softness. You had other plans for him.

Connecting your knees together, you let the softness of your thighs connect, with only maybe a slither of space between them. Your hands are still on Donghyuck’s cock and you reach to hold his balls, massaging them slightly and pulling him towards you.

He takes your cue and leans forward, sliding himself between your thighs. The moan he lets out is guttural and elongated, laced with the beautiful metallic tone of his voice. He lets go of your breasts and wraps his arms around your knees, putting your calves on each of his shoulders and continues to rut his hips against you. 

“Fuck. This feels so good”

You look up to see Donghyuck’s face, contorted in a frown that can only be described as desperate, his lips puffy and red from all the licking and kissing and sucking. 

He looks painfully sexy, and you momentarily imagine all the things you would do to him if the serotonin of your double orgasm and the alcohol in your belly weren’t weighing you down. You’d gladly stay up all night for him, tugging on his long hair as you’d let him bend you in any position he wanted. You bet that thickness would feel amazing stretching you out and you moan at the thought, your thighs flexing involuntarily and making him moan even more. 

Soon he has picked up his pace, the tip of his cock reappearing between your thighs more frequently and you can feel his thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

“Fuck fuck, I’m coming”

He suddenly pushes forward, almost collapsing on top of you as a string of satisfactory groans leave his lips. His hips still with a stagger and you entrancingly watch the ropes of white dripping from his cock and landing on your blouse. It was a mess, but you can worry about it in the morning.

Donghyuck fucks your thighs slowly for a little longer, elongating his pleasure for as long as he can and soothing the crescent moons his nails formed on your skin with his fingertips. He reaches one hand to his bedroom floor where he finds a -what you hope is- clean t-shirt, and pats his cum off your blouse as best as he could.

It has gotten late and you’re both exhausted, Donghyuck’s comfortable weight on top of you lulling you to sleep. He’s hugging your hips now, head resting on your stomach and occasionally kissing your hip bones tenderly. You’re not sure when you slip out of consciousness but you do hear Donghyuck mumble something against your skin, something the kiss of Morpheus doesn’t allow you to make out.

You wake up to a white ceiling. Not just any white ceiling- a cracked, full of moisture pockets ceiling and you wonder when you let the humidity mess up your apartment this much. The culprit of your awakening, the morning sun rays that shine right on your eyes; way too bright than what you’re used to, force your eyelids to open, and it takes you a moment to adjust to the abundant light. This isn’t your apartment.

The sight of a man that greets your barely recovered rentinas shocks you, and you rub your eyes just in case you’re stuck in a lucid dream or something. You see the mess of ash blonde hair and the pile of work clothes discarded on the floor and your mind soon is flooded with last night’s events, buzzed out in your foggy memory. You sense another buzz as well, a physical one this time and you wiggle in place when you feel something hard and metallic digging in your butt. You prod a little with your fingers, trying not to wake up Donghyuck too abruptly and you realise that yes, you’ve been sitting on a phone all night.

Shouldn’t it be a Tuesday today? It’s very bright for it to be that early but surely Donghyuck must have set an alarm for the both of you last night. You yawn involuntarily, deciding to play with your phone until he wakes up as well when the bright white display pulls all the blood from your face.

8:40. You have to be at work in 20 minutes.

“Donghyuck! Hyuck!”

You didn’t care to make your touches light. They were shoves, really, pushing at his shoulders frantically to get him off of you and pull him out of his slumber. He wakes up with a gasp, trying desperately to keep his balance and failing, to then fall unceremoniously on the floor.

“What the hell?”, he groans out with a hoarse, groggy version of his voice, “My head is pounding”

“It will hurt even more once I’m done with you! You didn’t set an alarm last night? Today’s a work day!’

With his eyes bulging, he launches himself forward, grabbing the phone from your hands. 

“Shit, shit, shit”. He’s fully awake now, hands rubbing his face to come up with the next logical steps to take, in order to have you both at work on time and looking presentable. “I have a mouthwash and hairbrush in my bathroom, I’ll get ready here”

“And what the fuck am I supposed to wear?”

“Yesterday’s clothes? Are you really that concerned about recycling an outfit right now?”

You roll your eyes, pushing your blouse down and dragging his comforter off your body. 

“Did you forget about this?”

You straighten out the fabric for him to see, and the big, grossly dried out cum stains aren’t hard to notice. His face looks worried, but not necessarily apologetic, and you can almost see the scenes from the sex you shared last night play through his eyes like a porn film. 

“Your skirt is fine, right? I’ll find a shirt that fits you”

You’re spitting out the fluorescent blue liquid when he timorously walks in the bathroom to leave the piece of clothing he promised. It smells heavily of those moth-repellent sachets and looks slightly wrinkled, like something he pulled out from the depths of his closet but you don’t really have the privilege of playing Suzy Menkes right now. You pull and tuck the fabric in creative ways, in order to style the garment into something you might walk into work wearing one day, yet it’s painfully obvious to you how misfitted it is; too big around the shoulders as one would expect from a man’s shirt.

You exit the bathroom after giving up, pressed by the limited time and the sound of Donghyuck’s uneasy steps through the door. You let him freshen up as well and use the time to collect your things that are scattered all over his place - he was kind enough to bring you your bra that was discarded in his living room floor along with his shirt - and soon you were rushing out of his house and into separate cabs so as not to raise suspicion.

The rest of the day was normal, well- according to this new definition of normalcy for you. Where everything and everyone seems to follow this movie script of what a typical company must look like, while you worry that someone will probe uninvitedly into your thoughts. God knows what they would fish out. A broken record player of Donghyuck’s moans when he cums, the burn of his thick sex rubbing against your thighs, the paths of his neck veins you memorized by heart. 

You shake your head to clear it from the intrusive thoughts, and click the refresh button of your emails. The sound of keys being tapped and printers being put to use lands you back to reality, and you calmly click on the new incoming message from the Sales Department.

It was Johnny.

You’d think that after having his dick down your throat for about half a minute, getting butterflies in your stomach from the mere sight of his email address would stop being a recurring event for you. But alas, here they were, tapping their little wings in a flutter that turns into a hurricane of anxiety, and you sarcastically thank the universe for having to deal with Johnny while looking like an 80’s librarian.

You walk up the stairs like your ankle’s dragging a ball and a chain, the piece of paper in your hands getting slightly ripped from the abuse of your nervous fingers. It was a stupid document, barely half filled with any valuable information and you think it can’t be worth the calories you burned with that trip. It certainly wasn’t worth entering hell, aka mr. Suh’s office, and just the thought of him waiting for you in his fitted suit and gelled back hair is making you light headed. If Johnny was Hades then Donghyuck definitely was Cerberus, guarding his boss with his three heads and his big dick.

You leave a breath out when you realise he isn’t there, making your way onto Johnny’s office with lighter feet. He smiles brightly when he sees you, handsome as ever, and you carefully leave the document on his messy desk.

“Well, isn’t it my favourite intern”

You laugh at his sing-song tone, enjoying how warm he was being today.

“You used to avoid me like the plague and now I’m your favourite?”

“You always were my favourite”, he winks, and pushes back his hair like he knows the effect it has on you, “If someone is avoiding anyone like the plague that’s Donghyuck. I would have sent him to you but I can’t find him anywhere.”

You gulp dryly at his words, an invisible awl pinching your chest. You could feel Donghyuck slipping away from every place that you might share, in a very subtle way, but still noticeable from you. He left the kitchen hastily when you walked in to make your coffee, excused himself out of the lunch break through which you always kept him company, and now he was gone as well. Was last night such a big mistake in his point of view?

“I’m kidding, I just wanted to see you.”

He motions you to come closer and you timidly oblige, serenaded by the sound of his voice but not missing the hunger his eyes hold. He’s still seated in his big leather office chair, thighs spread out in a way that turned you on embarrassingly much, and you fit yourself in the space between his long legs. 

“He is very jumpy though, Donghyuck. Do you know what happened to him?”

Your whole body tenses up, muscles hardening defensively. “Why would I know?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that you guys are so close.”

Close. Close as in having his knee between your thighs, close as in being pushed up against his chest and the elevator mirror. Close as in knowing how his tongue feels massaging your clit. 

“Have I seen you in that before?”

You’re confused with the sudden question and when you search for the context you realise he’s talking about your- Donghyuck’s shirt. Did he smell the sex on you? The overwhelming scent of pheromones and Donghyuck’s cologne that your nose just couldn’t ignore?

“I don’t think so”, you try to answer as nonchalantly as possible, “it’s new.”

“No”, Johnny insists, and pinches the fabric with his fingers. He’s very knowledgeable about fashion, always complimenting you on your outfit choices and you know he wouldn’t let this one go so easily. “I’m sure I’ve seen this before.”

You follow his line of sight towards the ivory fabric too, as if you expected there to be written “YOUR ASSISTANT GAVE ME THE BEST HEAD OF MY LIFE LAST NIGHT”, in a bright red marker. It was a prison, in the form of 99% cotton and 1% pure anxiety, and you know you had to distract Johnny out of this subject one way or the other.

“You like it?”, you ask seductively, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

“I’d like you better without it.”

With just one strong, yet calculated pull he has you sat over the length of his thigh. Your hands land on his chest for stability, right over his pecks that fill your palms easily. There’s nothing you want more than to suck on those perfectly sculpted lips of his, but you’re not too faithful on Donghyuck’s mouthwash so you settle for the earlobe that isn’t pierced instead.

He loves the feeling, the activation of his erogenous area and the suction of your lips that resembles one of your favourite activities together.

“I like this shirt”, he starts, unbuttoning your chest into plain view, “and I love this skirt”

He runs his big hands over the plumpless of your ass, squeezing it then retracting his fingers back on your thighs. They’re cold against your burning skin and the contrast causes goosebumps to erupt in the shape of his handprint.

“You love all my skirts Johnny”

“I do. Because I can do this”

His fingers roll the hem of your skirt up your thigh, the only thing separating your heat with the smooth fabric of his slacks being your skimpy underwear. You’re pretty sure the wetness must be transferring to it already, your thoughts of Donghyuck and all the things he could do with you having you desperate for a release. Johnny pets your clit over your panties then, just a light graze of his finger that elicits a moan from you.

Your hips move on their own, slowly humping his thigh that flexes from under you. You grab his tie to help your movement when your pace picks up, enjoying his body heat that coated you. 

“Someone might see us.”

His desk chair was large, sure, but so was Johnny, and even though his back was facing the door of his office, no one could mistake the sight of you riding him as anything else. 

“I told you, Donghyuck keeps disappearing. And it seems like it won’t take you too long to cum with the way you moan like that, right babe?”

“Johnny…”

You were a whiny mess at this point, humping his leg to reach your high. He was nice enough to help you, his hands guiding you as you mess up all over him, lips stuck on the patch of skin right under your ear.

“You know, I kind of miss you calling me Mr. Suh.” he whispers as he’s sucking on your neck, and you shiver at the tone of his voice, “What do I have to do next time you come over to have you call me like that?”

You can’t contain your whimpers anymore, the stinging tears of arousal threatening to roll down your face, so you close your eyes to keep the moisture in. Everything is just too much, the pleasure of your clit rubbing on him, his nails that dig in the flesh of your hips, the heavy suggestions in his words; your orgasm was hanging by a thread and it was a matter of seconds for it to snap. And it did snap, with a bite on your neck, and along with it your eyes snapped open as well.

Donghyuck was staring right back at you.

Your eyes crossed in pleasure, blurry vision making it hard to focus on him. You were falling apart over Johnny’s body, legs shaking and insides melting with his praise. Donghyuck took the sight in from the opened door, eyes studying your face of pleasure and bare chest decorated with Johnny’s kisses peeking from his own shirt. You’d be lying had you dismissed the fact that his presence intensified your orgasm times a hundred. The exposure of your act, the naughtiness of getting caught and by him of all people. You watched as he retreated outside from the office with silent steps, to give you privacy or recover from the embarrassment or both.

And Donghyuck would be lying too, had he said he didn’t like the sight. The mere memory of your face all fucked out flushed his own in crimson red. He remembered it all clearly, from your plush lips to Johnny’s mess of a hair, to the tremble of your body. It refused to leave his mind, the scene of you getting satisfaction from another man, but not because he wanted to erase it. He thought he fit right in, right in that scene between you and his boss.  

You texted him later that day, apologizing for what he had to witness and promising him you would return the shirt as soon as you washed it. He politely allowed you to keep it, not at all acknowledging the incident from earlier, nor the night you spent together. You didn’t have the guts to ask, for you didn’t know that Donghyuck didn’t regard last night as a mistake, like you thought. He was tired of boiling in the guilt of his feelings, selfishly admitting to himself that he did not regret a single thing. He was into you, he meant every word that came out of his mouth, so why was he avoiding you all day yesterday? He was still the fucking coward.

The next day came rolling along, and with it came a long list of things you wanted to avoid. The first one was arguably dealing with your best friend, the lengthy paperwork you had to fill out being a close second.  

Your mind was occupied with a plethora of thoughts, with Johnny holding the main spot. You’d seen him in your sleep last night, starring in the extremely detailed wet dream your brain fabricated for you, hot breaths and deep thrusts forcing you into the disappointing consciousness of today’s morning.

And the pictures he had sent you right after you decided to get up weren’t helping either. His tall, half naked build occupied most of the shot, skin glistening in the after-shower steam. His toothbrush was hanging from his foamy mouth, in an attempt to make the picture look nonchalant, yet you knew his motives. You let your eyes drink up the sight of his defined abdomen, then moved downwards along the dark happy trail that peeked from the towel, loosely hanging from his waist. Hip bones teasing you and all. Just drop the fucking towel Johnny.

Needless to say, you were a mess when you arrived at the office. The cats in heat outside of your window, the phallic shaped baguette your baker generously treated you with this morning; everything seemed to remind you of the heat between your legs that you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore. You tried rubbing your thighs, drowning in the paperwork, even locking your phone in one of your drawers so as not to be tempted to look at Johnny’s thirst trap again. But he had won.

You grab a bunch of documents that seemed important enough, shove them in your favourite binder, and make your way to Johnny’s office upstairs. 

You knew you had to deal with Donghyuck. It was the unavoidable repercussion of messing up your life like that, getting men that were too good looking for this boring ass company tangled up in what seemed to be a simple internship. Taking a deep breath, then two more for good measure, you start to strut confidently in a straight line that led to Johnny’s office door.

“He’s on call, come back later.”

Your head instinctively turns to the source of the sound, to find Donghyuck staring at the display of his laptop that seemed to be much more interesting than you. The matter-of-fact way he formed his sentences was not unlike him, yet something in you begged for a little bit of attention. Blame it on how horny you’ve been all morning, or the fact that now that you’ve seen him naked, the strict tone affects you much more than it should.

Bothered by your thoughts and thinking about having to sit back at your office for the rest of the work day, you let the binder slip from your hands and drop on the wooden floor. You lean down to collect the scattered pieces of paper, your heels making it hard for you to keep your balance easily, and soon enough you sense a movement from behind you.

“No panties huh?”

It was supposed to be a surprise. Payback for the dirty thoughts Johnny planted in your head this morning. You’d walk in all innocently, sit right across his desk and give him a little Basic Instinct Sharon Stone moment. Then leave him high and dry again, while mentally keeping a note to clear out all your plans for the weekend. But see, he couldn’t give you what you wanted after all, and your resolve started to break. Whatever it was you wanted, you wanted it now.

You get up, unfolding your body slowly and refusing to look at Donghyuck, much like he did when you walked inside. The smirk playing on your lips couldn’t be concealed through your voice.

“Like what you see?”

You gasp as he presses up against you, the only contact you have with one another being his hard-on that nudges your ass. Following your body’s orders, you push back against him too, and you can tell the breath he lets out is ragged and full of tension.

He reaches for your binder with an arm around you, flipping through the pages as he sucks his teeth in disapproval.

“These are last week’s reports. Are you really here for these or are you looking for another quickie with Johnny?” A moan escapes you then, and the little thrust that Donghyuck allows himself drives you both crazy. “Thought so. How insatiable are you? I made you cum two nights ago, Johnny helped you out yesterday. If you really are that desperate you could’ve just come to me for help, doll”

His soft palm rests on the front of your thigh, slowly sliding his way under your skirt. You squirm in his hold in anticipation, and you have to bite your tongue to hold in the noises that threaten to leave you. 

“Donghyuck, Johnny is sitting right through that door. He could come out any minute now and see us”

“And?”

“Your boss is sitting right through that door. You could get fired”

“I could die after this”

His thumb ficks your clit swiftly, and Donghyuck takes this opportunity to slip his other one inside your gaping mouth.

“But-“

“Shh. Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby”

You’re melting in his hold at this point, your back still resting against his chest, lips sucking his digit. The scent of his cologne that you’ve grown so familiar with overwhelms you, painting all your surroundings in a red tint of lust.

“Spread your legs for me”. You oblige with his orders immediately, your arousal not allowing you to keep him waiting. “Wider”.

You take a quick look behind your shoulder to check that the door is still, indeed, closed, only to be met face to face with Donghyuck. His breath is hot against your face, eyes locked on his thumb toying with your lower lip and you completely forget what you initially turned around for. The kiss was natural, your lips melding easily with his ones. The need for him washes over you like a heatwave and you lift your skirt to urge him to continue before you go insane. 

He gets the hint and moves his hand lower, middle finger tracing your opening ever so slightly. It makes you shiver and you realise how quiet the room has fallen, the only source of sound coming muffled through the closed door to Johnny’s office. It excites you and it must show through the wetness between your lower lips, and Donghyuck patiently collects it all. He transfers the moisture over the bud of your clit, his finger smoothly massaging the sensitive skin. It feels divine and there’s no way you’d ask him to stop yet you know there’s something else Donghyuck is after, the sweet tightness that he didn’t get to experience that night at his apartment.

It was a bit much to fuck you out there like that, even for his exhibitionistic tendencies, but nothing could stop him from feeling the next best thing. 

His first finger enters you unhurriedly, careful of your reactions. You moan out his name and he moans at how tight you are, soft pussy practically sucking his finger in. He soon enters his ring finger as well, slowly moving them inside you until you feel every stretch and curl. Your wetness starts to drip at this point, coating his fingers with your juices.

“Such a dirty girl, making all this mess at my office”

The leisure pace ruins you, your eyes shut close in search of patience. You feel his other palm move from under your skirt as well, resting flat against your lower abdomen. He wants to feel himself inside you.

“Donghyuck, please. More”

A chuckle is heard from your left ear, and you can vividly imagine how his face must look like now. The cocky smirk, the tongue poking the inside of his cheek. The next pump has you muffling your whimpers with the back of your fist, his fingers curling just right and fucking straight into your g-spot. 

“More? Look at you. Pretty slut.” 

He’s full on finger fucking you now, and swallowing your moans is gradually becoming more and more difficult. The world crumbles from under your feet and you let yourself get carried away in the intense pleasure, the fast pumping making your legs shake.

“You’re gonna cum?”, he whispers again, and you can only respond with a nod, “That’s my fucking girl”

The orgasm’s intense, shaking you as you bite your hand and hold onto Donghyuck for extra support. He continues to move his fingers afterwards, drawing out your euphoria for as long as he can, then finally leaves you empty once your moans have died down. You immediately cover yourself up again once you sober up from your high, suddenly embarrassed by Donghyuck’s intense stare. He’s moving his eyes through all the features of your face, only for them to fall frozen on your lips, and lifts his hand up to rest his two fingers over them. You get his initiative and put them in your mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue.

“Unless you want us both to get fired I think you should go back to your office. I don’t think I can contain myself around you”

You release his digits with a pop, your eyes full of seduction.  

“What would you do to me?”

Donghyuck growls at your question, turning you around so that you’re fully face to face and chest to chest. 

“You’d look so pretty on your knees, mouth full of cock”. He grabs a handful of your ass, bringing you flush against him and proceeds to grind his painfully hard dick between your thighs. Your noses touch and you feel dizzy at the proximity; the words he mutters against your cum coated lips. “I’d peel those clothes off of you, find the nearest mirror. Stretch you out against the glass so that you see how good you take it.”

You shiver as a response, then force yourself to put some distance between you before you do something stupid. He kindly helps you collect your things in silence, those useless documents that were laying scattered on the floor, and in a moment of weakness you let him pin you against the wall right before you go.There was something so addictive about him and your chemistry, and your lips burn at the memory of his kisses. You’re not sure how much longer you can contain that hunger anymore.

The end of a shift and the beginning of another overtime. It felt like deja vu at this point, after all the countless extra hours you’ve put into the internship, seeing people grab their briefcases and their car keys as they empty the space around you. You take a moment to appreciate the view of the setting sun from the small window of your office, inhaling deeply as you wrap the hair that’s been bothering you in a ponytail. Your neck hurts and the tension of your body is translating into a dull pain, so you stretch it a little, bobbing your head from side to side.

You jump a little in your seat when you feel a set of hands on your shoulder blades. They massage the sore spots, treating the muscle knots and helping your blood flow freely. It was obvious Donghyuck didn’t have enough of you earlier, and you pout at having to turn down another visit to his apartment because of your overtime duties. 

You were ready to scold him off, tell him you’re busy and that you promise to make it up for him another time, when you feel his soft lips kissing the most sensitive spot on the slope of your neck. You let out a long sigh, subconsciously exposing your neck more for him, and a high pitched whine rumbles in your chest. It’s released as a moan of Donghyuck’s name.

“Donghyuck?!”

You freeze in the uncomfortable arch, your ears confused by the deepness of the voice belonging to the man behind you. Not even the confusion laced in it can cover up the lack of airiness and clarity you’re used to when it comes to Donghyuck’s tone. It’s Johnny.

“I… We-“

You’re left speechless, clueless as to what to say next. You know you don’t have to explain yourself, it’s not like you and Johnny are exclusive. Yet his shocked face at the sound of his assistant’s name coming so lewdly off your lips has your brain scrambling to find some sort of explanation. Thankfully, he’d interrupt your panic in a second.

“The big boss wants you upstairs. I offered to come get you.”

He doesn’t sound angry or upset, nor disappointed. It’s a fresh air of relief before you realize that this is not what you should worry about right now. What the hell does the CEO of the company want to talk to you about? Are you getting the boot? It must be it, but why? Your numbers have been great, you’re always on time - except that one morning, but technically it was Donghyuck’s fault - and you’ve been praised by your supervisor numerous times during your internship.

Unless- What if there’s cameras in the office? 

You start to panic at the thought of an involuntary sex tape become the cause of your dismissal, so caught up in your thoughts that you’re completely unaware you’ve spent the entire trip up the stairs with Johnny in silence. When you enter the CEO’s office, heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears, you notice that all of the department’s supervisors are present in the impromptu meeting as well. You sit next to Johnny, in an attempt to calm yourself down, and you see the head of your department send you an encouraging smile.

“Shall we start?”

A briefing of your work in the company ensued, numbers and graphs that wouldn’t make sense to anyone other than the people in the room. Thirty minutes have passed and no surveillance tape has been whipped out, turning you more confused than ever. The numbers were good, the words from your supervisor are complimentary, so why would they fire you? 

“That is all for the briefing. After seeing your progress and the contribution you’ve made to the company, we’ve decided to offer you a permanent position, if you’d be interested of course”

Oh my god. You can’t believe this day finally came. Your face was glowing, and you tried to convince yourself to stay calm while you talked about your new position and the raise in salary that came with it. With shaky hands you sign the documents, and your boss congratulates you once again, dismissing you off your overtime. 

You waited for everyone to leave the hallway before jumping in Johnny’s arms. He caught you easily, strong build supporting you and lifting your feet off the ground before landing you safely again.

“Good job intern, I’m so proud of you”

“Hey, I’m not an intern anymore!”, you complain by bumping his chest with your fist and he pats your head lovingly in return.

“Why did you have to be in the room as well? Did you know about my promotion?”

“No, actually, they just told me an hour ago. It was hard to keep myself from telling you everything right away.”

The excitement coursed through you, and a sudden urge to kiss him until your lips were numb overwhelmed you. You were ready to turn your thoughts into reality, when you saw Donghyuck from the corner of your eye, instinctively smiling at your obvious happiness.

“What’s the occasion?”

“I got promoted!”

Donghyuck gasped, a huge smile spreading across his face. Your excitement’s contentious so he tackles you without a second thought, his embrace so tight that you can barely breathe. You can see that he’s trying his best to contain a kiss, his glance moving back and forth between you and Johnny. He still kept a possessive hand around your waist once he let you down however, a gesture that could seem innocent yet you knew better.

Johnny smirks at the sight of you two, confidence dripping off his body and making you shiver. You get dizzy at the thought of Donghyuck not knowing that Johnny knows about you, yet Donghyuck knowing about Johnny but not giving a fuck.

“So how do we celebrate?”, the older man asks, with a playful tone that might as well be your active imagination.

“Wanna go for a drink?”, Donghyuck suggests, boldly keeping his eyes at you only while he does so.

You pout in thought, humming pensively when an idea pops into your head. 

“How about you come over my place for one?”

You should have thought this through more thoroughly, is all you can think about as you’re trapped between Johnny and Hyuck on your couch. Well, not really- there is a sizable distance between you three, yet the atmosphere in the room is so dense it’s nearly palpable. Three glasses, half-full of the alcohol of their choice are sitting on the coffee table in front of you, and you awkwardly stare at the sweat that falls from your glass and forms rings on the wooden surface. 

Your body has loosened up from your drink yet your heart can’t stop racing, not when Donghyuck is looking at you like that. He looks like a man starved for days while you’re the meal presented deliciously in his arm’s reach, and he can’t wait to have you alone and curve his growing appetite. And you ignore Johnny’s cheeky smiles and flirtatious winks as well, carrying on a conversation that doesn’t belong in the inescapable tone of the room but flows easily, until it ends and you’re met with heavy silence and the ticking analog clock on your wall again.

You ask them if they would like some water, getting up before you receive an answer, and you yelp a little when you feel a strong arm halting your trip to the kitchen before it even started. You lose your balance and wobble a little in your spot before unceremoniously landing on Johnny’s lap.

He doesn’t help you up, but loops and arm around your waist instead, holding you in place. In circumstances other than the ones that have already made their mark on your sexual history, staying in this position with his assistant still in the room would be highly inappropriate.

“You’re all we need”, he reassures you with a voice made of silk, then repositions you with a jerk of his knee, your heat grinding right against his half hard member.

“When were you gonna tell me?”

You open and close your mouth sequentially like a fish out of water, choking out a reply after the insistent tick-tock that resonates through the room and gives a tempo to your anxiety.

“I’m sorry?”

“You know what I’m talking about. A little birdy told me I’m not the only one enjoying this perfect little body. Is that right Donghyuck?”

Donghyuck’s eyes bulged out of his skull, almost choking in the sip of the drink he was enjoying when the unexpected question hit him. Sizzling heat floods your face as he stares at you sternly, and you shake your head defensively.

“I didn’t tell him-“

“Well no, not exactly”, Johnny interrupts and places his big hands over your thighs, “I was just kissing her neck, trying to get her to relax, and lo and behold, she starts moaning your name like its a fucking reflex. You’ve really gotten into her head, apparently”

Donghyuck swells up in pride, that much is evident, yet he’s way too distracted to say anything in response, too busy staring at Johnny’s fingers spreading your thighs apart to expose your damp underwear. Johnny’s lips are planted on your neck, teeth nibbling on your earlobe and you wince when you feel the sharp sting of a slap on your inner thigh.

“You aren’t being a good hostess, baby. Open up your legs more, let Hyuck see your pretty pussy. You remember what word to say when you want me to stop, right?” You whimper the designated safe word while opening your thighs further, digging the heels of your feet in the couch’s pillows. “Good girl”

He dips a hand through the band of your underwear, busying his fingers under the fabric. You moan as they slide through the wetness and he smiles a cocky smile when he sees Donghyuck palming himself through his slacks. He removes the skimpy thong with the help of your hips moving to assist him, to then push the fabric inside your mouth with little to no resistance from you.

“Isn’t this pussy divine? I swear when I bottomed out inside of her the first time I thought I lost my damn mind”

He toys with your opening, only dipping half a finger in to challenge Donghyuck to pay attention.

“We haven’t actually…”

“She only let you play with her?”, Johnny teases him, then pushes his point and middle finger all the way inside you, making his assistant’s imagination run wild at what your pussy must feel like sucking him in. “You’re missing out man”

“I’ve made her cum probably twice as many times as you’ve ever have”

You chuckle at his smart remark and Johnny glares at you, softly slapping your pussy to keep you at bay.

“No one addressed you. You’ll get to make all the noise you want in a sec, baby”

You squirm in place, letting out a muffled apology through your gag and Donghyuck looks seriously affected by the sight.

“Isn’t she obedient?”, Johnny asks while grazing your g-spot, and you moan from both the praise and the stimulation.

Hyuck unbuttons his pants at the lewd sound, pulling his dick from the slit of his boxers and you admire his impressive girth. He lets his body decline comfortably on the pillows behind him, spreading his own legs at shoulder-length. The mouth-watering sight of him jerking himself slowly with the aid of his precum clouds your vision; you’re just as needy for him as he is for you.

“She’s a little brat”

“I guess I know how to make her listen”. Johnny lifts your dress over your hips, then helps you off of it through the hem. With a rehearsed flick of his fingers he discards your bra as well, leaving you completely naked for Donghyuck’s eyes to feast on. His hands immediately grope your breasts, playing with the mounds and putting on a show. “I could undress you over and over and over again”

You feel his fingers retract from inside your pussy to form a ‘V’ over your lower lips, making your hole even more visible along with the wetness that’s dripping out of it.

“Will you let Donghyuck use your pussy baby? I feel a little greedy using it all on my own”

You groan in the anticipation and let your head fall back on Johnny’s shoulder, nodding pathetically and mumbling through your thong.

“Oh god, yes, yes, yes”

Donghyuck has heard enough, and with Johnny urging him on he’s standing half naked in front of you in seconds. His boxers are discarded next to his trousers on the floor, tie hanging loosely from the collar. He still has a hand wrapped around his angry sex, red tip and veiny details making you swoon.

“Go on”, Johnny encourages him, “she’s more than wet enough”

Donghyuck rests his left knee on the cushion of the couch, right between your foot and Johnny’s thigh. A little foiled square is getting ripped by his nimble fingers and you bewitchedly watch him wrap up his cock. He slaps it over your entrance a couple times, coming in contact with the other man’s fingers that are still keeping you fully exposed, then finally thrusts himself inside you. A conglomerate of what seems like three different curses leave his lips, eyebrows furrowed in a pleasureful expression.

“Fuck”

“Tight, isn’t she?”

“So fucking tight baby, damn”

Johnny may have a cock so lengthy that most men are envious of, yet Donghyuck’s girth is really something else. It stretches you out more than you've had in months, dull pain getting numb with every release of serotonin from your brain. You almost cry when he removes the entire thing out of you.

“I have to feel that again”

And indeed he does, submerging himself in the tightness of your walls only his fingers had the privilege of experiencing thus far. You feel amazing wrapped up around him, pussy hot and burning in desire as he dips himself further inside you, pushing you up against Johnny’s chest. You hiss in the sting and whimper softly, prompting the man behind you to ungag you finally.

“What is it baby? Hyuckie’s dick is too big for your tight little hole?”

You nod affirmatively while keeping eye contact with the man mentioned, big glossy eyes awakening something dark inside him. He wants to ruin you.

“Maybe you don’t fuck her hard enough”

You can’t see Johnny from the way you’re seated but you know he must have a smile on his face, well aware of the confidence he possesses for his own abilities in the bedroom. His big hands leave your labia and make their way over to your calves, bending you in a way that is almost painful.

“How about you show me how it’s done, then?”

Donghyuck is always up for a challenge, so he wraps a hand loosely around your throat so as to gain leverage. He pulls his hips backwards, gaining momentum, then slaps them forcefully against your own. You moan loudly at the depth, hands scrambling to find something to hold on to as he’s nailing you against the couch. Johnny’s there to catch your sounds with his lips, eating them up eagerly as he slips his tongue inside you and continues to play with your nipples. 

“Is that hard enough for you?”

Continuing his brutal pace restlessly, Donghyuck tightens his grasp around your neck, enough to hamper your blood flow and drool around the other man’s mouth. You’re so out of it at this point, dirty sound after another leaving your lips and you gasp at Johnny’s fingers that are suddenly circling around your clit.

“I’m close, please”, you manage to whimper from between them, Hyuck’s pace only fastening in the sound of your plea. The tip of his cock, thick like the rest of him, grazes against your sensitive spot again and again, not missing a single thrust. He digs a thumb in the softness of your cheek, pulling you away from Johnny and connecting his forehead with yours. By the sounds of his grunts it won’t take long until he comes as well.

“Made just for me”, he whispers against your lips, and you gasp when you feel the heat overflowing in your sex area, vision blurry as you let go and scream in complete pleasure. Donghyuck basks in the confirmation of how good he’s made you feel, hips stuttering as he empties his cum in you and inside the condom. His thigh muscles may be contracting in tiredness yet he doesn’t halt his movements, milking your orgasm for all its worth. You’re basically putty in Johnny’s lap at this point, sex drunk and high from your release.  

“Not bad”, he admits, even though he had some credit to claim with the fast fingerwork he showed earlier. He holds your thighs again, closing them up to help you relax and you wince at the pain in your haunch, the result of staying in a flexibility-demanding position for so long.

You wait until your heartbeat slows down, turning around to face Johnny as Donghyuck ties up and discards the used condom. He sends you a warm smile, petting the messy hair out of your line of sight and you relax in the feeling of safety, batting your eyes up at him cutely.

“What about you?”, you practically meow, moaning softly as you feel his boner twitching from beneath his trousers.

“What about me? Didn’t you have enough?” 

He knows your appetite, knows there’s no way you’d be satisfied by one round only. And how could you, when he sits so deliciously from under you, his big body reeling you in. You know what he wants to hear.

“Please, Johnny”, you plead, playing with the thin tie still neatly keeping his shirt in place. “I need you”

“You need what?”, he growls against your lips, trying to coax as much desperation out of you as possible.

“I need your big cock inside me, please”

“Ass up”

You get up from your seat, complying with his commands and getting on your knees before your tired legs betray you and leave you a mess on the floor.  His hands cup your ass in admiration, giving it a little spank before he slides them over your dorsals. A careful push forces you to arch your back even more, and your cheeks burn at the eager position he has bent you in. You shiver when his cock enters you halfway.

“You’re still not used to me babe?”

“It’s not my fault that you’re so fucking big, Johnny”

“Then maybe I should stay still? Since you can’t take it?”

“No!”, you oppose, tears of frustration threatening to spill out of their ducts, “I can take it, just move!”

You howl as he bottoms out, his long length making you lose your mind. It’s been a while since you’ve had anything more than his fingers and you’ve missed the way he fits inside of you. You hear shuffling from behind you and soon he’s bending over you, wrapping his tie around your neck. With a pull you’re flush against his chest again, and the buttons of his shirt are already leaving little indentations on your skin. You wish it bruises.

“Do you remember what I wanted you to call me the other day?”, he whispers next to the shell of your ear, dark tone sending shivers down your spine.

“Mr. Suh”

“Exactly. Now will you let me fuck you the way I want?”

“Yes sir”

“What a good girl”

Johnny slams into you fully, every pull of his hips resulting in the restriction of your airflow. A game of wanting more of him and sacrificing your oxygen for it begins, and it doesn’t take long for you to turn completely into a submissive mess for him. He’s whispering filth in your ears, hips keeping their inhuman tempo until you’re all out of energy and fall nonvocal. Donghyuck gets hard again at the sight.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Johnny, who is more than willing to share your body for the pleasure he’s after- at least part of it. He waits until the younger man’s dick is fully solid in his grasp, standing tall and red right in front of you and he lets go of the constraint of your neck without notice.

You fall face first on Donghyuck’s thick thighs, his quick reflexes catching you from a harder impact. His member is twitching right next to your face, tip grazing against your left temple and he helps your head up by wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail that his fingers hold together. You wrap your lips around his tip obediently, twirling your tongue around his member until you reach his hairy base. He tastes a bit rubbery from the condom earlier but you choose to ignore it, focusing on hollowing your cheeks around him instead.

Every hard thrust of Johnny’s propels you forward onto Donghyuck’s cock, the bobbing motion natural yet you struggle to take them both inside you. Donghyuck enjoys the vibrations of the moans you make when the other man hits a deep spot in your pussy, Johnny groans when you clench around him as Donghyuck abuses your throat. It’s a give and take of intense pleasure and you know you can’t take much more, the men’s moans growing louder with every thrust. 

“Do you like Hyuck’s cock needy baby? Have you finally had enough?”

He punctuates each word with a slam, one harder than the other, and the rope inside your belly snaps with the arrival of your second orgasm. You try your hardest to stay in place, beg your thighs not to let you collapse as you let Johnny drive you into overstimuation.

“Yes, sir. I love it”

Johnny grunts at the sound of his title, so dirty coming muffled by another man’s dick that it’s enough to send him over the edge. You feel the hot cum filling up the condom inside you, and his spurts take so long that the little tweaks coax another orgasm from you.

Donghyuck drinks up the scene unveiling in front of him, a steady hand forcing your jaw open as he starts to jerk off quickly over your face.

“I want to see your tongue covered in my cum”

You lick your lips seductively in response, opening your mouth up to welcome his ropes of white liquid that leave his slit a second after. They fill your mouth little by little, painting the inside of it and you hold your tongue out to show him his creation, a couple of drops dripping from the corners before you swallow as much as you can. He collects whatever’s left on your jaw, pushing it in and letting you suckle on his thumb dumbly before letting go.

You collapse on the couch, exhausted after giving all that your body could handle after a work day, and you sit in silence as Johnny massages your feet and Donghyuck kisses your neck to calm you down. Your head hurts from the sex and the possibilities that this new combination can bring to your love life, belly tingling in excitement at the same time. You don’t know where this will lead, or when will be the next time you’ll indulge in the company of the both of them stuck on your body. All that you know is that this promotion, at least the celebration of it, tastes really, really sweet. 

thank you for reading ❤ feedback is much appreciated! If you liked Promotion you can check out Work for it to see where it all started! :) 

[iam93percentstardust]

hi there! for the birthday fic prompt, “you look happier” + stevetony! It could be angst or fluff up to you :)

could be angst or fluff you say and i say both sounds good.

thank you for your very lovely prompt. this was an absolute delight to write :)

this fic is also posted on my ao3 here.

“You look happier,” Steve tells him, and Tony thinks that he must be a better liar than any of them ever gave him credit for because he’s not. He’s miserable, and the penthouse is empty, and his bed is emptier still, and none of that matters because Tony did that to himself. He’s the one who turned Steve down; he has no right to be miserable.

Steve came to him with his dad’s ring in his pocket and asked him to marry him, and Tony… panicked. He’s good at that, he thinks bitterly. It’s just—when people tell you something long enough, you start to come to accept it as fact. And Tony has been told over and over again for most of his life that he’s an unpleasant person to be around and that he’s not the marrying kind, so he gets that now. He’s the sort of person who’s meant to die alone, and the most that anyone will care about once he’s gone is what they’re going to do with his billions.

So Tony’s known—since his own failed proposal way back as a tiny undergrad dating Ty Stone—that he’s not the kind of person who gets married and then there had been Steve. Wonderful, perfect Steve, who had just been promoted to head of SI’s marketing division, who had met Tony at a party when they bumped into each other and spilled champagne all over themselves, who had made Tony laugh like no one else ever could. They’d been doing well, Tony had thought; he’d thought that Steve was going to ask him to move in (officially, since they’d been all but living together for months) at that fateful New Year’s party.

But it had been a proposal, and Steve had looked so hopeful, and everything Tony had ever heard said about himself echoed through his mind all at once. He’d heard himself say, “No,” and watched himself run like he was looking at someone else.

And now they’re here at the annual Maria Stark Foundation’s gala that Tony requires all the department heads to attend. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d known that that meant Steve would be here too, but he’d somehow managed to convince myself that Steve wouldn’t want to make a scene by approaching him.

He should have known better from Steve “My middle name is Confrontation” Rogers.

“You look happier,” Steve says, and Tony freezes with his flute of champagne halfway to his lips. Steve looks miserable, as miserable as Tony feels; he wants to ask if Steve really does feel as unhappy without Tony in his life. But then he catches a glimpse of Bucky, Steve’s PA and best friend, on the other side of the ballroom glaring at him, Bucky, who has never liked him, not from the first moment they met and probably has the right idea about him. He changes his mind.

It was silly of him to think they could have ever made their relationship work after Tony turned down Steve’s proposal. People are supposed to get married; that’s the inevitable ending of a relationship—that or a breakup, and since Tony didn’t want marriage, that left the breakup. He just—he just wishes that Steve’s things hadn’t already disappeared from the penthouse by the time he got home, that Steve hadn’t made it so blatantly clear that there would be no discussing the failed proposal or any future for the two of them.

“It’s been a good quarter so far,” Tony replies, affecting a light tone. He can do small talk. Small talk isn’t going to make him break down and beg Steve to take him back. He takes a small sip of champagne, hoping that it hides the way his hands shake.

“That’s not what I—” Steve stops and sighs. “Tony, look, can we—”

“Anthony!” someone declares jovially, slinging their arm around his shoulders. He flinches back, turns to greet whoever interrupted them (naturally, it’s Tony least favorite person, Justin Hammer), and when he looks back, Steve is long gone.

~

“You look happier,” Tony says, different than how Steve said it two months ago at the gala, though he can’t quite pinpoint the difference. When Steve had mentioned that to Tony, he’d meant that Tony looked happier without the specter of the proposal hanging over him, but Tony says it like there’s something to be upset about Steve looking happier without him.

Steve had realized almost immediately after asking how much of a mistake asking Tony to marry him would be. Not that marrying Tony would be a mistake; Steve had known from the moment he met Tony Stark that he wanted to keep him forever. But he knows how little Tony thinks of himself and how many people had seen Tony as nothing more than a gateway to fame and fortune and the kind of toll that would have on someone. And he should have known that a proposal to Tony, who has told him before that he’ll never get married, would’ve gone over like a lead balloon.

But his ma had handed him his dad’s ring when Steve had mentioned wanting to spend the rest of his life with Tony and he’d gotten swept up, he supposes. In thoughts of weddings and honeymoons and happily ever after, and he’d forgotten that happily ever after looked very different to Tony.

And now they’re here, four months after his failed proposal, at a gallery opening that Steve did the marketing for because SI doesn’t have an exclusivity clause (and thank god for that—even with his generous salary from SI, he doesn’t make enough for New York rent if he wants to live somewhere halfway decent). Steve is proud of the work he put in for the gallery. The artist is talented, the gallery owned by a nice couple that Steve likes, and he thinks that this might have been one of the best jobs he’s ever done.

“It’s a nice gallery,” he says, wondering how to bring up their relationship.

It isn’t that he’d wanted to break up, at least not once he’d had a chance to think after Tony had left him on the second-story landing of his ma’s house. But in the moment, with Bucky telling him that Tony had always looked like he had one foot out the door and Clint saying that relationships always either ended in marriage or breaking up and Natasha threatening to castrate Tony for turning down the proposal and Sam consoling him by saying that he’d always thought Steve deserved better.

Well.

With all that, Steve had let himself get caught up and driven over to Tony’s to pick up his stuff. It wouldn’t be for another two days before he realized that it didn’t need to be the end and by that point, Rhodes and Pepper had already moved in to form an impassable wall between him and Tony.

The gala had been his first attempt at bringing their relationship up, only it hadn’t gone so well, and he’s got this opening now, but.

“You look happier,” Tony says, gesturing with a glass of champagne, and maybe it’s true. He hadn’t thought it was, but it’s been four months since they broke up, and maybe everyone is right. Maybe they are better off without each other.

Steve considers bringing up the concept of them again, thinks about getting turned down for the second time, and decides no. He’s not going to put himself out there again. Tony will have to come to him.

“I feel happier,” he says and watches a bitter smile cross Tony’s face.

~

“You look happy,” Steve comments at another gala. Tony still can’t say that he feels any happier than he did the last time he saw Steve, but he’s learned to put on a good show after Rhodey spent a week with him in mid-May because he was worried about Tony.

It’s good to know that he has friends who’ll spend a week with him because he just found out that his ex is seeing someone new, but he doesn’t like to worry them. He hates taking them away from their own lives. He shouldn’t need them around just because he found out that Steve had moved on from him.

Tony hums noncommittally and then asks, “How’s the—uh—the artist?” It had made a small stir in the society pages, some up-and-coming artist going out with the ex-boyfriend of Stark Industries’ CEO. Tony had read it, but he doesn’t remember her name.

“Peggy?” Steve asks. “I didn’t realize you’d—ah, good. She’s good. We’re… good.”

“That’s good,” Tony says inanely.

“She’s nice,” Steve says, something almost desperate about it, like he wants Tony to say something, but Tony doesn’t know what. Besides, he lost the ability to say anything about who Steve is saying six months ago. He imagines Steve keeps Peggy’s picture in his wallet where he used to keep Tony’s. Steve has always been old-fashioned like that, and if it really is getting as serious as the gossip pages claim it is, well, then Tony’s probably been replaced.

“That’s good,” Tony says again and snags a champagne flute from a passing waiter. “You deserve someone nice.” Tony isn’t nice. Tony is about as far from nice as a person can get. Christine Everhart once called him a dick on live TV. That clip had trended for weeks, and not once had anyone outside of Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy said anything to refute it.

“Yeah,” Steve says quietly. “So what about you? How’s the, uh, model?”

Tony has to think about what model Steve is talking about. It takes him longer than it probably should to remember the very brief fling he’d had with a very pretty blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman he’d picked up in a club two weeks ago. They hadn’t even exchanged names, though, now that Tony is thinking about it, that might be because she had obviously recognized him and had been expecting he would recognize her. It hadn’t been anything serious, just a fun night that had turned into a fun day into another fun night before she’d bowed out and told him she wasn’t going to play second string to anyone else.

“Wasn’t serious,” he says honestly, taking a sip from his glass.

There’s a brief flash of what almost looks like relief in Steve’s eyes before it’s replaced with a blankness that Tony recognizes from staring into the mirror. Looks like their relationship left Steve with something after all, though Tony isn’t sure it’s a good thing that he taught Steve how to hide his emotions.

“Love, there you are,” a light British voice says, and Tony turns to see Peggy, the new love of Steve’s life, joining them. She drapes her arm around Steve’s waist, leans up to kiss his cheek, and carefully wipes the lipstick smear away. Tony downs the rest of his champagne. “You must be Tony. I’ve heard so much about you.”

That surprises Tony. “You have?” He can’t imagine Steve would talk about the ex with the new model.

“Of course! Steve has so many stories about his boss.”

Oh. He forces a smile to his face. “Right. Well, hopefully, the stories aren’t all bad.”

~

“You look happy,” Tony observes at Steve’s engagement party, and Steve is. He is deeply, truly, incandescently happy, and not even the fact that his ex is at this party (he has no idea how Tony finagled an invitation) is going to bring him down.

Yes, there are still times when he wonders what it would have been like if Tony had been the one standing at his side, but those times are growing fewer and further between. Maybe he and Peggy are moving a little too fast, but Steve refuses to wait too long on this. He wants happily ever after. He and Peggy can have happily ever after (happy enough, a traitorous part of his brain supplies; he firmly shuts that thought down).

He and Tony were never right together; that’s what everyone’s been telling him, right? And he sees what they mean now. Everyone had pointed it out to him—his friends, his coworkers, the tabloids. What could Tony Stark want with someone like Steve Rogers? They’d made speculations about Steve’s ability in bed, cast aspersions about his social climbing, claimed that Tony was slumming it. And Steve had told himself that he was okay with that, that it didn’t matter what they said as long as he and Tony were happy.

But now he wonders if they ever were. Bucky says that Tony always had one foot out the door. Could either of them really be happy if one of them was just waiting for the other shoe to drop? He thinks about that, and then he thinks about Peggy and how he always feels on tenterhooks with her, just waiting for her to run like all his other partners, and wonders if it still holds true with him and Peggy the way it had with him and Tony.

“I am,” Steve confirms and puts all thoughts of what he and Tony used to have out of his mind. “Peggy and I are very happy.” (Maybe, if he says it enough times, it’ll even be true.)

Tony smiles, more of a grimace than an actual smile, not even a shadow of his press smile. “That’s great, Steve. You’ll make a wonderful husband. When’s the wedding?”

“Oh, we haven’t started thinking about that yet,” Steve laughs. A long time from now, he thinks. Long engagements are good, right? Gives everyone time to get those pre-wedding jitters out of the way, right? Lets them think about how this is a good idea and the best thing for them, right? He grabs a champagne flute from the buffet table he and Tony had met in front of and downs the entire thing. “We only just got engaged.”

There’s something odd in Tony’s eyes, something dark and understanding that Steve hates. He grabs another glass and fantasizes about throwing it back in Tony’s face (he wonders what Tony would taste like, dripping in champagne).

“Where’d you propose?” Tony asks. Steve wonders if he’s just torturing himself by asking these questions.

“My ma’s house,” Steve says. He doesn’t add that it’s the same place he’d proposed to Tony. He doesn’t think he needs to. Tony flinches just the same.

Someone calls for him and Peggy to kiss. He hasn’t even started to turn to look for Peggy before she’s standing right there beside him, resplendent in a red dress he bought for her birthday. Her lipstick matches the dress, and Steve spares a thought for how much of a pain it’ll be to wipe off of his mouth before she kisses him. He wraps his arms around her waist and tells himself that he isn’t comparing her to how Tony felt in his arms a year ago, just as he tells himself that he isn’t thinking about how Tony’s beard would feel against him instead of lipstick.

When he pulls away from the kiss, head spinning, Tony is gone.

~

“You look—” Tony begins when Steve shows up at the penthouse one rainy night in late October. Like a bedraggled rat, he doesn’t say. Terrible, he doesn’t say. Lost, he doesn’t say. “Never mind.”

“Can I come in?” Steve asks miserably, dripping wet.

“Yeah, of course,” Tony says, immediately standing aside. He closes the door behind Steve and heads down the hall towards the linen closet to grab a couple of towels. He tosses them at Steve, who catches one of them, but completely misses the other, which thumps against the door behind him. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do it.”

“Can’t do what?”

“Get married.” Steve groans and drops onto Tony’s very nice, very expensive leather couch that he would happily sacrifice in a heartbeat to make Steve feel better. He puts his head in his hands, muffling his voice as he says, “I thought this was what I wanted, but Peggy started talking about flower arrangements tonight, and I thought about this being the rest of my life and I couldn’t do it. I can’t do it.”

Tony blinks at him and heads into the kitchen, where he finds his phone lighting up with texts from Steve’s friends. He compiles them all into one group chat, tells them that Steve is with him and not to worry (though he doesn’t delude himself that that won’t do anything), and then goes looking for any alcohol he might have in the penthouse. He doesn’t keep much in here anymore, not after the disastrous night of Steve’s engagement party, but he does find one ironic bottle of champagne. He uncorks it, pours both of them generous drinks, and goes back out into the living room.

Steve takes the glass but doesn’t drink from it, just holds it against his forehead. “I didn’t want to break up with you,” he whispers, and Tony’s heart picks up a hopeful beat. “I just—you ran, and I let everyone’s opinions get to me. Before I knew it, I was packing up my stuff and then Rhodes and Pepper wouldn’t let me see you and then I did see you—and I thought you looked happier without me.”

“I wasn’t,” Tony confesses, sitting on the coffee table across from Steve. The rain pounds against the windows. “I put on a good show: smile bright enough they never see the shadows under your eyes is what my mama always told me. But Steve, every time I saw you, it just hurt all over again. I didn’t want to break up either, I just wasn’t ready to get married. But I could see forever with you. It just—when I came home to the empty penthouse, it felt like you couldn’t see forever with me, so I let Rhodey and Pepper turn you away.”

Steve shuffles forward and puts the glass on the floor so he can take Tony’s hands in his. It’s been almost a year since Steve last touched him, and Tony can’t fight back his shiver. “I don’t blame you,” Steve reassures him, dropping his forehead to their hands. “I should have talked to you.”

“I should have talked to you,” Tony counters.

“Okay, so we’re both idiots,” Steve allows, tilting his head up enough that Tony can see the slow, hopeful smile spreading across his face. “But do you think we might get another chance?”

Tony kisses him.

~

“You look happier,” Bucky comments as he joins Steve on the balcony of Tony’s penthouse. He’s carrying two champagne flutes, one that he passes to Steve. “Happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.”

“I am happier,” Steve says and doesn’t point out that Bucky was part of the reason Steve was unhappy for a while. He knows that Bucky had his best interests at heart, that Bucky was only worried about Steve, just as he knows that it was his own decision to walk away from Tony. Besides, it’s fixed now. He’s got Tony back, and they’re working through the issues that pulled them apart last year, building up a better and stronger relationship. He doesn’t think they’ll ever get married, or at least not for a long time, but he’s found that he’s okay with that because he’ll still have Tony forever. At the end of the day, marriage is just a ceremony.

He leans back against the railing, eyes searching the party inside for Tony. Steve finds him almost immediately, chatting with Natasha about something—probably the yoga classes they both attend. He can feel a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth the longer he watches Tony, who’s been more animated over the last two months than he has in the year they were broken up. He can’t imagine how he ever thought that Tony looked happy.

He loves him. It’s not a realization because Steve has known since that rainy night in October that he loves Tony Stark and always will. But it’s a—a confirmation, of sorts. He loves him so much it hurts. It’s a miracle that Tony loves him too.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says apropos of nothing. Steve hums questioningly, half-turning to Bucky, who’s leaning over the railing and staring blankly at the city. “I know how much he meant to you, but when he turned you down and I saw how you looked, I saw red. ‘s no excuse for not suggesting you at least talk to him though.”

“Communication is important,” Steve begins.

Bucky cuts him off with a groan. “Not one of your speeches, please, Stevie. It’s New Year’s, don’t make me deal with one of those.”

“Yeah, alright, punk,” Steve agrees, shoving Bucky lightly. He stares past Bucky at the ball and Times Square that he can just barely see in the distance. Tony’s got a great view of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade when November rolls around, but the neighboring buildings block most of Times Square from view. Steve isn’t complaining though. If he turns back around, he’s got the best view in the city—all his friends and family and, right there in the middle of it, Tony.

Someone starts the countdown inside.

Tony’s head immediately pops up from his conversation with Natasha, looking for Steve. Steve pushes off the railing, shoves his drink into Bucky’s hand (and ignores the way Bucky starts laughing), and heads inside, straight for Tony.

Tony gives him a relieved smile when Steve reaches his side.

 Three!

“Hi, sweetheart,” Steve whispers, cupping Tony’s cheek.

 Two!

“Hello, beloved,” Tony replies, pressing a kiss to Steve’s hand.

 One!

Steve kisses him and kisses him and kisses him, swearing that he’ll never stop.

[jeontaeil-archived]

Catch Me If You Can //

●○●○●○●○●○●○●

a part of @neosmutcollective's RISQUÉ event

●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Pairing: Criminal!Ten x Cop!Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut. Male receiving, Tit-job, Marking, Choking, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Unprotected Sex. Non-Idol AU

Words: 5.6k+

Warnings: 18+ content. Read at your own discretion. Mentions of drugging.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Sirens tore through the city, disrupting the serenity of the late hour. You loved how they sounded. So promising and exhilarating. Something big was about to go down.

The task force raced down the empty streets with you at their lead. You were in pursuit of a band of huge black SUVs, one of them holding the most dangerous criminal in your city.

You'd been in this situation many times before. You'd been chasing after Ten since the very first day. No matter how close you thought you were to catching him, he always managed to slip out of your grasp. He'd bring your hopes up, only to snatch them from you.

Ten loved playing with you. Whenever you were in a slump, he'd always leave a few obvious clues behind. It was like he was almost asking you to come and get him. But it was only ever because he was bored and wanted to have some fun.

You had done everything in your power to get to this very moment. All the pieces had been laid. All you had to do was throw Ten in jail and you'd get the biggest promotion of your life. If anything went wrong in tonight's plan you'd be stuck, a mere cop in a shitty precinct for the rest of your life.

You wouldn't deny it. The rush you felt while hunting Ten down excited you greatly. That feeling of having him in your grasp, not quite but so close, it made the adrenaline course through your veins. In a twisted sort of way, you wouldn't mind if Ten made this race a bit more thrilling. After all, it would be his last.

The cars split up at an intersection. You'd already predicted this beforehand. Your squad wordlessly broke into the formation you'd planned out while you zoomed straight ahead.

A hand emerged from the car before you, a cigar held in its grasp. The rings that adorned its fingers were enough to tell you that you had eyes on Ten.

Gritting your teeth, you stomped on the accelerator, catching up with him slowly. He was all yours. You had him now. Ten seemed to make no effort to evade you. He continued driving as leisurely as possible. You couldn't tell why but you didn't want to take any chances. There wasn't any backup near. All you had was a pistol to defend yourself.

You figured the safest thing to do was maintain some distance between your car and his. You saw him adjust his mirror. What you didn't expect was for him to give you a clear view of his face.

He was looking straight at you, a devilish grin plastered on his face. What on earth was he up to? You saw him reach over to the side and collect a gun. Pulling your own out of its holster, you held it up by the wheel.

Keeping his eyes on you, Ten placed his cigar between his lips and threw the gun out the open window. Your eyes widened in bewilderment. Why did he unarm himself? You watched his gun scatter to the side of the road. When your eyes locked with his again, he sent you a wink and sped away.

Acting fast, you raced behind him, staying right behind his car. He kept making sharp turns, dancing through lanes, but nothing that would throw you off. He wasn't trying to run away. He was taking you out for a spin. If you wanted to put a stop to this game, you needed to corner him.

So you decided to turn the tables. He clearly needed you to focus on him. Without batting a lash, you took a u-turn and started driving off in the opposite direction. You saw his car skid to a stop. He stuck his head out of the window, furrowing his brows at you.

Rolling down your own window, you put your hand out and motioned for him to follow you. An erratic laugh was heard, followed by Ten trailing after you.

He didn't seem skeptical at all. It was like he'd forgotten that you were a cop. He looked curious. He wanted to see what you were going to do. Maybe he knew that it was all over for him. Perhaps he wanted to have one last exciting night.

Seeing a familiar street, you made a turn, grinning as you spotted him enter the small road with you. Looking back at the road, you slammed the breaks immediately. It was a dead end.

Another menacing laugh was heard from behind you. You had no clue what was going on. Gun in your hand, you got out of your car and hid behind the open door.

"There's no point in hiding princess. I've got you trapped."

You'd never heard Ten's voice before. It dripped of class and authority. No wonder so many people were afraid of him.

This was no time to be afraid however. You were so close to getting him. You just had to play your cards right. That was the only way you could get out of this situation safely.

"I bet you weren't expecting this little surprise." His voice was getting closer. You cocked your gun. "You'll be amazed how easy it is to change signs. My men did a great job."

He was so arrogant about his 'achievement'. You wanted to spit in his face.

"Now put your gun down and come on out. I promise I won't hurt you. I don't even have a weapon. You can't fire on me if I'm unarmed. Isn't that police protocol?"

It was indeed. But you couldn't just risk it like that. He'd already deceived you once. Only a fool would let it happen twice.

"This is my warehouse y/n. All my business takes place here. When you and your pesky task force took down all my other outlets, I made sure this one remained secure," he shared.

You glanced at the tiny shed behind you. How could this hold it all? He was bluffing. You were sure of it.

Peeking over the hood of your car, you gasped on seeing how close he was to you. There was no point in hiding now. Pointing your gun at him, you carefully stepped into sight. Ten pushed his hands into his pocket, fiddling with the cigar in his mouth. He scoffed and looked to the side.

"Come on y/n. Let's not waste our time. If you cooperate, you'll see how it all began. How it all grew and poisoned this city you cherish so preciously."

He stepped towards you. You shot at his feet impulsively. "Keep your distance. Put your hands above your head and get on the ground."

He winced and stayed put. With your other hand, you reached for your pair of handcuffs. "I said get on the ground," you repeated, this time more sternly. His eyes locked with yours, corners of his lips curling up into a smile.

"Someone's feisty," he commented, stepping towards you once again after paying no heed to your warning. You fired at his feet once more. He didn't even flinch. He was so used to the sound of gunshots. They failed to phase him anymore.

"You know, I spent many nights imagining this day. The day we finally met," he revealed. "The exchange is alarmingly similar to what I'd thought it would be like."

You kept firing at his feet. You'd run out of bullets soon. "Stay away from me," you shouted, not letting your voice falter even a bit. He ignored your words. "I never expected you to be so beautiful. Seriously y/n, why'd you become a cop? You could've easily made it big in the modelling industry."

You felt disgusted all of a sudden. He was so shameless. How could he be hitting on you when you were holding him at gunpoint?

"Shut up. Just put your hands on your head and get on the ground," you said again, getting impatient.

"I don't wanna get on the ground though. These trousers are new, I can't afford to get any dust on them," Ten complained. Was he being serious?

"I don't care about your fucking pants! Just get on the ground-"

Ten lunged towards you and swatted your gun out of your hand in the blink of an eye. It clattered to the side, closer to him than to you. You watched in horror as he skilfully emptied the bullets and slipped them into his pocket. He tossed the gun to you with a sly grin.

"There's your gun. You can put it down now, there's no use keeping it aimed at me anyways."

You checked your pockets for any extra bullets, cursing when there were none. Ten folded his arms across his chest.

"What do you want from me," you asked, moving away from him.

Ten raised a brow. "Your attention, that's all." He stepped towards you carefully.

"Why do you need my attention? I'm trying to arrest you for god's sake."

He caged you between himself and the building's wall behind you, hand slipping behind your back to snatch your handcuffs. What you didn't expect was for him to put them on his own hands and bound himself.

"What are you doing," you questioned, pushing him away from you.

"I'll let you take the credit for this." He chuckled. "This y/n, is a gesture to make you feel safe. I mean you no harm. All I ask is that you give me a few hours of your time."

You looked between his hands, his face and the warehouse in front of you. He noticed the doubt on your face. "If you're gonna bring me down at least do it entirely. There's no point in throwing me in prison while this place remains in existence. Certainly not my men or I, but someone else might stumble across it. Doesn't take a genius to get a business up and running if they're desperate you know."

He had a point. You hated that he was right. Not only would this prevent someone from starting his business up again, but it would ensure a stricter sentence. Surely he'd never get life imprisonment, but the longer Ten stayed in jail, the better it would be for your city.

"Fine," you agreed with a sigh. "But no funny business."

Ten raised his hands in defence. "I promise. It's just you, me and my entire life's work."

You went back to your car to retrieve your keys and phone, plus some extra bullets which you loaded your gun with. "You can't deny me this. I'm walking into an abandoned warehouse with a guy who's on the state's most wanted list, no backup whatsoever."

Ten pursed his lips. "I never objected."

And with that, you followed behind him.

He held the rusty door open for you. The inside of the warehouse was completely dark. It clearly had no ventilation of any sort. The air was damp and eerily cold, with a faint musty smell.

"Are there any lights in here?"

Ten chuckled yet again. "Patience y/n. We're not there yet."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

You turned on your phone's flashlight and held it in front of you. The entire warehouse was empty. It wasn't that big of a space. The only thing on the ground was loose paper and cockroaches. Had he just set you up?

Cocking your gun, you pressed it to his back. "Do you think I'm playing games here?"

His body tensed up. "The operation is downstairs," he revealed.

"Then take me there," you urged in annoyance.

Ten led you to the centre of the floor and kicked at the dust until a small latch came into sight. He bent down and pulled it up. It was a trapdoor. A line of stairs continued downwards. You looked at Ten. "After you sir."

As you ascended down the stairs, you felt the air get lighter. It smelled more fresh than it did in the warehouse above. The only thing that remained constant was the darkness.

"Installing a bulb or two in here wouldn't do you any harm you know."

Ten laughed wholeheartedly. "You've got a nice sense of humour. I like that."

Rolling your eyes you continued descending. "How down below is this lair of yours?"

Ten didn't answer you. He walked to the edge of the stairs and jumped. It seemed you'd reached your destination. You shined the light on him, seeing him feel against the wall for something. He then pressed his palm flat against the fall. A few seconds later a bright light flooded your vision. Grimacing, you hid your face.

"Here are the bulbs or two you were asking about earlier."

Sure enough, the entire area had a neat lighting system. You turned your flashlight off and instead opened your camera, taking pictures for evidence. Ten waited patiently at the side.

The space was bigger than the warehouse above. You realised it was just a gimmick to throw anyone who came across it off. Just by the ambiance of the place, you could tell Ten had spent many years building it up to what it was. You wouldn't lie, it was magnificent. Like something straight out of a James Bond movie.

"I'm gonna explain it all to you. Basically let you into my life for a moment here. But you have to promise, that in turn, you won't call any back up. I want all of this to be absorbed by your mind," Ten spoke.

"Why?"

"You'll share it with your team after we're done anyways. But they'll never get to see it upfront. They'll never get to understand and admire it like you did. I only want you to do so," he explained.

His request was odd. But you couldn't argue. None of your files or reports had any record of this place. It had never come up during your investigation and none of your suspects had mentioned it to you. This place was a goldmine and you couldn't risk letting its information get in the wrong hands.

_

Five hours, you'd spend five hours at Ten's headquarters. Everything he'd told you so far was beyond resourceful. Not only had he helped you bust gangs that your precinct had failed to collect enough evidence against, but he also gave you an inside report of operations you had no clue about.

You couldn't believe he was just spilling all this information to you. You didn't understand why he was being so cooperative. Maybe he'd come to terms with that fact that it was all over him a very long time ago. You decided to ask.

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

Ten paused at your interruption. "As I said earlier. I want you to admire my work."

You scoffed. "So you want to be remembered as more than a criminal then?"

Ten rested his chin on his palm. "Not quite. See, the obvious reason for my downfall is the disloyalty of my peers. They started with me and leached out for a supposed better life. Everything any criminal has in this city is because of what they've either stolen or accepted from me. No one can stay hidden from the law without my help. No king gets to take over my empire after I'm gone. I forbid it," he explained.

He was so in over his head it was amusing. The way he thought it was the others that had ratted him out, you didn't want to burst his bubble but it was him who had brought his own downfall upon himself.

"How long do you think you'll be in jail for this Ten?"

He shrugged. "Until one of the hairs on my head turns grey I assume."

You pointed to the space around you. "Showing me this is only gonna make it worse."

Ten nodded. He already knew that. "But it will ensure that I can't start it up after I emerge from my sentence."

Rocking around in your chair, you studied his headquarters. "Please tell me you've got a coffee machine in this place."

Ten laughed. "Of course we do. Shall I make you a cup?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "No thank you. Unfortunately I don't trust you enough."

Ten pouted dramatically. "That's a shame. Did you know I worked at a cafe to make enough money to buy drugs?"

You shook your head. "You could've made big money in the barista field. Found a pretty girl to move in with. Lead a life on the right side of the law."

He laughed again. For the situation he was in, he was pretty calm. You didn't know why that was. You were just glad he wasn't trying to make any moves on you.

"It's over there," he gestured towards a room in the far corner of the area. "Would you like me to accompany you? Or should I sit still?"

"Stay where you are. I'll be right back," you instructed.

Ten leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. You got up and went to the backroom, keeping your eye on him the entire time. You figured now would be a good time to contact your squad. Let them know of your location and make sure that they'd taken care of their own jobs of handling Ten's henchmen.

Ten remained as still as a statue. The room you entered was more of a lounge. Along with a coffee machine, it also had a couch that looked invitingly comfortable. A quick nap sounded extremely appealing at the moment. But you couldn't risk letting your guard down like that.

You quickly got to preparing your coffee. Just some hot water and coffee powder to do the job. You hoped the extra caffeine would allow you to remain attentive.

Swirling your cup to mix the concoction, you made your way back to Ten. He sat up on your arrival. "We have creamers," he shared.

You took a sip of the warm drink. "No need. The stronger, the better." He couldn't argue with that. Ten resumed his explanation. You continued jotting down all the essentials of his narration. His voice was so monotonous that you never realised when you blacked out.

_

You woke up on the couch, a blazer draped over your body. Shooting up immediately, you reached behind your back for your gun. Much to your horror, it wasn't there. You stood up and stumbled out of the room. Everything was pitch black outside. You couldn't wrap your mind around anything.

The lights turned on when you made your presence known. You fell down with a groan. They were brighter than you recalled. Your ears started ringing, a sharp sting in your head. A familiar chuckle sounded from behind you.

"Looks like someone's up early. Tell me y/n, how was your sleep?"

You turned around and got up. "What the fuck did you do?"

Ten held his hands up. The cuffs were gone.

"I didn't do anything sweetheart. You did this to yourself."

What was he saying? Why did you black out? That's when it occurred to you. The coffee.

"What the fuck did you drug me with you asshole?" Your head was pounding. Your body felt so weak.

"I didn't drug you with anything y/n. There was nothing in the coffee."

You didn't believe him. "Stop lying. How did I pass out then?"

"No drugs were involved in that y/n. You were just tired. I guess my droning lulled you to bed," he explained.

"Why'd you take my gun then? How did you get out of your handcuffs? The keys were in my pocket."

"I had to steal those from you. I had no other choice. How else was I supposed to carry you to the couch?"

You were so stupid. How could you let this happen. He had your gun, your handcuffs, their keys and your phone. He had you trapped and you didn't know what to do.

"My squad knows where I am. They're gonna come looking for me and you can't run away this time."

Ten rolled his eyes at your warning. "Yeah I saw that text you'd left them. I figured I should've let you know that there was no reception in the warehouse."

You cursed. "Was this your plan all along?"

Ten shook his head. "It was more of an impulsive decision."

"What are you going to do to me?"

Ten furrowed his brows. "Nothing bad. I'm just a drug dealer. I would never hurt you."

As if that was going to comfort you in this situation.

"I just wanna play a game. Would you do that with me?"

You scowled at him. "What's the catch?"

Ten smirked. "Oh there's no catch sweetheart. I just wanna have one last night of fun with the girl of my dream. You wouldn't deny me that would you?"

The girl of his dreams. He was sick.

Ten noticed how reluctant you were. At this rate you weren't gonna agree to anything he said.

"If you say yes, I'll return all your belongings to you and let you escort me out of here, handcuffed of course, all the way back to your precinct where you can put me behind bars for good," he offered.

"Why can't I just skip to that part right now," you asked bitterly.

Ten stepped towards you, bringing his face right in front of yours. You could feel his breath fanning on your lips. "You've spent all these years dedicating your time to me. It would be a shame if you didn't make the most of all that work. You think you know me but you don't. You've never had a proper conversation with me before. You never been so close to me. I'll be honest y/n, I've been waiting to see you. I always knew you'd be the death of me. I'd much rather make more memories with you. After all, you're the woman that brought me down. That makes you special, doesn't it?"

He was so manipulative. You actually found yourself considering his proposition. Something about his words was right.

"Just say the word, you know you want to," he pressed.

"Do you swear that you'll walk out of here without a struggle?"

Ten nodded.

You sighed. "Fine. What are we playing?"

Ten beamed and gave you your distance. "Rummy. I'm sure you're familiar with the proceedings?"

You knew how to play rummy. You also knew that Ten wasn't going to be traditional with it.

"My men and I used to add some booze to the mix. But I know you can't drink while on duty. So instead, we'll do something a bit nostalgic."

By the tone of his words you already knew where this was going. He wanted to include sexual favours. How gross.

"I've got a list. It goes up till 100. Loser accumulates their points and based on their score, they've gotta do something off of the list. Are you up for that?"

You stared at him, long and hard. You wanted to put an end to this as soon as possible. "Let's do it."

This was wrong. You knew it. But you were desperate. He seemed like a man of his word. Not completely, but for certain clauses at least.

Ten took your hand and let you to the table you were sitting at previously. Your belongings were still there. It was already lined with a deck of cards. He sat down across from you and gestured to the cards. "They've already been shuffled and dealt. I believe in fair games so I can assure you nothing's rigged here."

You lifted your cards and began sorting them wordlessly. They weren't the best but at least you had a joker.

"I'd also like to let you know that I gave you some Provestra. But don't worry, I took some for myself. The ones meant for men of course."

He was so fucking shameless. At least you had something add to the list of charges against him.

_

Ten lost the first round. Only by twelve points however. Number twelve on his list was strip.

He now sat before you, completely naked. Something about it wasn't as disturbing as you thought it would be. You told yourself it was just the horny pill talking, but you wouldn't deny that he had a nice body.

A tattoo on his forearms and one circling his chest. His upper body was nicely toned and he packed a nice size. Overall, he was hot. If he wasn't a criminal you certainly would've taken him home.

Your next game began, this time with you dealing. Your cards turned out to be extremely favourable and you won with ease. Ten's points upped by five, leaving him at seventeen. Number seventeen on his list was marking.

Though hasty, you moved your hair to the side and let him hover over your body. He smelled oddly nice. Ten held your gaze while licking his lips. "May I," he whispered. You tilted your neck. "Go for it."

His tongue ran over your skin making you close your eyes. His lips followed, sucking gently to make a mark. You gripped the side of the table and willed yourself not to succumb to the burning sensation between your legs. Ten repeated the action, this time closer to your jaw. His tongue felt enticing. You wanted more. But you couldn't let yourself have it. This was just a game.

He moved off of you once he was satisfied with his work. Two hickeys stained your neck, strikingly visible and difficult to cover.

He dealt the next round and you played the first move. This time he emerged victorious. With two points, number two on his list was a kiss. The way he licked his own lips in anticipation made you dizzy. You'd never used Provestra but you were certain it wasn't supposed to make you feel this way.

You scooted closer to him and grabbed the sides of his head, crashing his lips onto yours. Ten groaned in your mouth, loving the force you used. He let you guide him, moving his lips over yours reverently. You didn't know when to stop. You didn't want to stop. He was an amazing kisser and it had been quite a while since you'd felt someone's lips on yours, especially like this.

Ten was the one to pull away first. He smirked at you, loving the effect he was having on you. He passed you the cards to deal the next round.

You won yet again and rather quickly at that. Ten was left with a lump sum of twenty three points which amounted to a total of forty. Number forty on his list was a handjob.

You spit on your palm without a second thought and grabbed his dick. Ten leaned back in his seat and watched you stroke his cock. No sounds left him. Only quick breaths from his parted lips. Your handjob skills were a tad rusty, but you had the basics down.

You tightened your grip around his shaft making him hiss. He bucked his hips up into your hand and wetness pooled in your panties. You got off your chair and fell down on your knees. Ten watched you spit on his cock in complete awe. "Fuck the game," you muttered, wrapping your lips around his tip. Ten held your head, pushing your mouth down on his cock. You tried your best not to teeth him.

Squeezing his thigh, you began bobbing your head over his member, fondling his balls in your other hand. Ten groaned and cursed above you, loving every second of it.

Out of breath, you pulled away from him and started unbuttoning your blouse. Ten watched in delight as you took off your bra and let your breasts spring free. He hadn't expected you to get on board so easily.

You released a ball of spit onto your chest, letting it slip down the valley of your breasts. Knowing what you were going to do, Ten shifted closer to you and pushed his cock between your tits. You pushed them against his member and began moving them up and down. "Holy shit," Ten explained, moving with you. His fingers played with your nipples.

You stuck your tongue out for his tip to brush against. The sounds leaving Ten's mouth were heavenly. This was so wrong. But you were too worked up to stop.

"Who knew you'd turn out to be so damn kinky," Ten exclaimed. You didn't say anything. Ten's cock twitched only seconds after. You kept moving over him. Soon enough, long ropes of his cum spurted up onto your tits, some falling on your chin. You slowed your pace, milking him of every last drop until he was whining for you to stop.

Ten stood up and dragged you with him. He made you sit on the table and pulled your pants down your legs. Your panties were soaked. Ten chuckled as he peeled them off. He marvelled at your glistening pussy.

"What's 100 on your list?", you asked breathlessly. Ten grinned widely. "Fuck till you drop"

That was good to know.

Ten didn't waste any time pushing into you. You were so wet that he had no problem doing so. He adopted a quick pace fucking you like his life depended on it. Your loud moans tore through his headquarters. Ten huffed and grunted, pulling your body closer to his.

His fingers dug into your skin, surely leaving marks. You held yourself up on your elbows and spread your legs wider. Ten threw your leg over his shoulder and made you lay on your side so that he could fuck you deeper.

Your hand came down to rub your clit. Moved your hand away and replaced your fingers with his thumb. He started pushing you to your own orgasm. You grabbed your tit, squeezing it gently as you let your head fall back.

"Such a tight pussy," Ten grunted while rutting his cock into you. "Feels so fucking good."

You fully agreed with him. It felt amazing. Perhaps it was because of the sad amount of sex you had in your regular life that you were submitting to him so desperately. No one had ever made you feel the way he was right now.

The knot in your stomach burst, walls clenching around his cock tightly. Ten groaned as you fell apart on him. "Shit, turn around," he instructed, impatient to get back inside you.

You got on your hands and knees, raising your hips for him. He slapped your ass as he pushed back into you. Ten leaned forward and grabbed your hair, pulling you up against his chest. He wrapped his fingers around your throat, choking you lightly. You loved how it felt.

Holding onto his wrist, you pushed your ass back against his hips. Ten bit into your shoulder ever so often, fingers coming back to your clit. You mewled as he overstimulated you. Your knees were about to give way any second now.

Ten made you put your leg back on the ground, pushing your knee further over the table. The tip of his cock brushed against your sweet spot. Your eyes rolled back, a sensual scream leaving your parted lips. Ten hummed in delight, biting down on your earlobe. You reached behind yourself, hand resting on his hip. "Let me get on top," you managed to say. Ten held your waist and sat down on his chair, bringing your with him.

Placing your hands on his lap, you started bouncing on his cock. Ten kissed the nape of your neck, hot breath fanning on your shoulder. You could already feel a second orgasm approaching. Ten held your hips down on him, stopping you.

"Let me take control," he said, bringing your feet to his knees. He hooked his arms underneath your knees and raised you up slightly, bucking his hips up into you from below.

You put your hands over his, head falling back against his shoulder. Ten sped up quickly, fucking up into you while bringing your body down on his cock. His tip pushed at your sweet spot with each thrust making your toes curl in ecstasy. "Fuck keep going, I'm gonna cum," you warned, biting your lip.

"Me too," he breathed, concentrating on your approaching orgasms. Ten pressed his face into your neck, lips nipping and sucking at your skin softly.

Before you knew it, you were cumming. Ten snapped his cock into you one last time before emptying himself into you a second time. He groaned out loud, holding onto you as he rode out his high. Your thighs shook gentle, chest rising and falling dramatically. Once you were sure he was through, you let go of his hands.

You pushed yourself off his cock and quickly got to dressing yourself. You checked the time on your phone. It was almost morning now. Seeing Ten decently clothed, you turned him around and cuffed him, leading him back up the stairs and out the warehouse to your car.

"No one's ever finding out about this okay? Cause I swear if they do I'm gonna add kidnapping to your long list of charges."

Ten replied with his ridiculously attractive laugh. "Did I kidnap you though?"

You pushed him into your car and shut the door. "It won't be that hard to convince the judge that you did," you shared as you got into the car.

Ten sighed and leaned back into the seat. "I think I should let you know now. I never gave you any Provestra to begin with."

●○●○●○●○●○●○●

tagging: @hoehousenet @neosmutcollective @neowritingsnet @kdiarynet @ficscafe @chwe-yeeun @choijwiss @giveortake @lqsience

[prismatic-bell]

@teashoesandhair since you have dragged me headfirst into this amusing Q-007 idea of yours, I want you to know I have come up with a plot.

The movie begins in near-darkness. We see Bond outside MI6 with a masked figure in black. There are sounds of a struggle. At last there’s a gadgety little beep and a door slides open.

BOND: you expect us to surrender?

HENCHMAN: No, Bond. We expect you to die.

A gun is raised, the trigger is cocked—and a phone rings. This phone turns out to belong to Q, who answers it with the charming “someone had better be dying, or you’re about to be” in the just-woke-up croak of a man still lying in bed with his eyes closed. A voice on the other end asks where he works. He asks “what time do you think it is, doing surveys before sunup?”

Bond’s voice comes on the line. It is EXTREMELY clear he’s reading from a script. He states the sins of the Empire can never be cleared, but they can be paid for. It’s quite clear from his voice that he’s in pain, although whether physical or emotional or both is up for question. Then in the same tone of voice he says “go left” and that is why Q rolls off the bed just in time for a bullet to go through it.

We cut to Q in power-walking down a hallway in MI6. He is wearing a polo shirt and looks deeply upset about this. A woman with a bun is jogging along beside him and apologizing because, she says, it’s the only shirt she still has from before. He stops, looks irritated, and says “M is dead. Her replacement just got kidnapped, the guy I’ve been seeing for the last three months was a plant, I almost got shot less than an hour ago, I’m reasonably sure someone is trying to assassinate the Queen, you and I are the only two people who made it to MI6 this morning, I’m freezing AND I STILL HAVEN’T HAD COFFEE.”

His coworker says they have to find Bond, who might have some information on what’s going on and, at the very least, is actually a 00 agent. She actually starts laying out a plan while Q finds a Keurig, brews a cup, and drains the whole thing in one go. She finally trails off while he gets to the bottom of a mug of genuinely alarming size. He plonks it on the counter, says he’s getting on his computer, and tells her to call the palace and ensure the Queen is under secure guard.

THE LADY WHO IS ABOUT TO BE 001 BECAUSE 001 IS POTENTIALLY KIA: someone took out all of MI6 in a night, including the 00 agents, and you’re going to trust a bunch of Beefeaters? Who all look the same in uniform? As though they couldn’t be impersonated?

Q: …..fuck.

Q, who is currently the closest thing MI6 has to a head of command, calls the palace in an official capacity to speak to the Queen directly. He announces he’ll be sending a 00 agent and under no circumstances should the Queen be without her. Outfits the new 001 with the usual—earpiece, fancy gun, IT toys—and, before he sends her off, says “give me your ID.” A minor argument ensues before he says “The only way to find all of MI6 is through the database. That means the reason they didn’t find you is because they were looking for a man, whose name would match with the one on your ID, now give it to me. The one time government backlog worked in your favor.”

She hands it over and asks what he’s going to do. To which he rolls his eyes so hard they might fall out of his head, and says: “I’m going to find Bond.”

The rest of the movie alternates between 001 and an action plot on her end, keeping the Queen out of danger and trying to gather intel from within the palace to see just how badly it’s been infiltrated, and Q first tracing a rogue computer signal and then sighing, grabbing a 00 kit, and taking off with something that looks like a cell phone but is actually a very tiny computer hooked into the MI6 mainframe.

This adventure proceeds much like a typical Bond outing, except that Q has to do it via backdoors and finding the nerdy interns and invisible staff of the high-powered people Bond would normally work with. He finds Bond, hacks him out of whatever mess he’s in, and they make for the exit in a firefight while Bond covers him and he ineffectually tries to assist. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to shoot a gun—it’s that previously, outside training, he has never NEEDED to, and he jammed the magazine. So as they go, he’s trying to fix the gun and keep an eye out for the door with the RFID scanner so he can get them the hell out of there. As they reach the door Bond runs out of bullets, Q finally gets his gun fixed, and as somebody aims to take off Bond’s head (complete with a laser sight, this guy’s not gonna miss), Q gets off his first shot for the entire scene and lays the guy out.

Q: ….fuck I just killed someone.

BOND: it comes with the job.

Q: it comes with YOUR job, I don’t have a 00 designation.

BOND: I’m promoting you.

Q: oh, thanks—WAIT—

(And then he shoots someone else. He still looks vaguely panicked about this. In all fairness to Q, he has had one HELL of a day and there’s been exactly one caffeinated beverage in it, and he still doesn’t have a cardigan.)

They get back to MI6 just in time for Q to pick up an errant GPS signal: missing agents! Four of them! That’s enough to make a skeleton recon team!

…but also, they’ve just gotten a phone call from the villain, congratulating Q on being SO clever…but not clever enough. The Queen is in imminent danger. 001 has evacuated her from the palace. “Ah, but London Bridge is falling down. Good day, Mr. Q,” says the villain, and hangs up.

From this, Q deduces that the Queen has been taken to St. Magnus-the-Martyr Church at London Bridge, and that it’s likely the villain means to blow it up. They need the extra manpower promised by that clutch of agents, but the villain made it sound like any moment the Queen would be dead. Bond announces he’s going after the agents.

Q: so that’s it then? We have to uphold the agency because England is about to plunge into chaos?

BOND: no. I’m going for the agents. You’re going to the church.

Which Q does, muttering under his breath the whole way. As he has been for most of this movie, actually. This is not the job he signed up for. But he goes, he gets in a very Bondish fight with his now-ex who is indeed a henchman for the villain, and just at the end when he COULD shoot him, he doesn’t:

Q: ….no. I’m not killing you. Give me my sweater.

HENCHMAN: …..sorry?

Q: my sweater. That’s my sweater, I’ve been freezing all day. Give me my sweater.

HENCHMAN: *extremely confused, but complies*

Q: *puts it on* better. Where were we again? Oh. *definitely shoots the henchman* Your Majesty. My apologies.

….to which the actual villain pops in with some sarcastic applause and an appropriate Bond Villain Speech(tm). Q realizes he has two bullets left and this asshole is staying just enough in the shadows that Q can’t accurately clock him.

There’s some sarcastic banter, during which 001 manages to get the Queen away again. The villain is pissed, but he’s like “that’s fine. You are, yourself, just a representative of corruption” and takes aim….

….just in time for the actual, original 001 to put a gun to the back of his head.

In the end:

1) The Queen is safe*

2) Bond is designated M

3) The lady Q designated as 001 is redesignated as Q. Also, in thanks for her service to the Crown, the Queen personally pushes through Lady Q’s ID with corrected gender on it.

4) The found MI6 agents begin seeking their counterparts, most of whom are alive and imprisoned rather than killed.

5) And, at the Queen’s suggestion—she’s shocked to find out all of this was masterminded by an IT tech, not a heavily-trained agent—Bond makes Q’s promotion official, and designates him 007.

ROLL CREDITS.

YOU’RE WELCOME.

*say what you want about the British monarchy and I’ll probably agree with you, but this is An Extremely British Franchise, so she’s got to live.

[applerubyy]

Ciao Adios

Summary: When you find your boyfriend cheating on you yo decide to expose him in the pettiest way you can think of.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (some Loki x Reader if you squint)

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cheating and cursing (I think that’s it?)

A/N: Hi! So this is my first time writing and posting anything here so if its terrible please tell me nicely :). This is some AU where everyone lives and all is happy ok? Also english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any grammar or spelling mistakes. Anyway, if it turns out that some of you like it I think I’d be willing to do a part 2 if you like. Hope you enjoy it! <3. Btw, the gif is not mine so credit to whoever made it.

Crack. That’s the sound of your heart breaking, ripped to pieces in just a few seconds. And no, you were not exaggerating. Seeing your boyfriend kissing someone else while taking off their clothes would do that to a person. And in his office of all places.

How did you not see that coming? They had a lot in common and they did spend a lot of time together but you were just so naïve thinking that he was the most trust-worthy person ever that you looked the other way and believed him when he told you she was “just a friend”. 

Just a friend my ass you thought as you calmly walked to your room. No running, that would draw attention to you and you didn’t need that. No crying either, because once you started you wouldn’t be able to stop. Walking down the hallway and taking the elevator to your floor feels like it takes forever. 

Time is funny that way. It has that annoying tendency to slow down or speed up at the worst times. Like when you were in college and the clock seemed to literally stop, you would look at the time and it was 10:20 am and check again after what felt like half an hour for it to be 10:25 am. Or like when you are having fun with your friends at a club and you see it’s 12:30 but when you look again a few minutes later it’s 2:40. Right now it feels like the former, time seems to have slowed down. Maybe Dr. Strange did something to it? No, that’s stupid, he wouldn’t play with time that way.

Finally the elevator pings open and you rush to your room. Well, it’s not only your room anymore. You share it with him and everything is a reminder of what you just saw. The art supplies on the desk by the window, the famous shield leaning against the wall near the door, the messy bed where you sleep together every night …

And every single thing brings tears to your eyes until finally, the dam breaks and you let the tears fall down. You bring your hand to your mouth to muffle a sob that brings you to your knees. Crying is the only thing you can do right now because your brain is stuck on a loop. All you can see is Steve kissing her, unbuttoning her shirt with one hand while the other grabbed her ass. And all you can hear are their moans, Sharon’s whimper when he touched her and his groan as he did so. 

And now you are full on crying and choking on air because that scene keeps replaying itself over and over no matter how much you want it to stop. And you do, Gosh you do because there is so much your heart can take and this is too much. It shatters you in more ways than one. It makes you question everything you thought you knew about him, about her, about your relationship and about yourself.

You remember the first time you met him. You were already in college and looking for an internship. Luckily you happened to be the niece of the one and only Pepper Potts. And who wouldn’t want to work near Earth's mightiest heroes? You sure did. You were studying journalism and communications in New York and working with the Avengers was the ultimate dream, one that was about to come true.

Your first day was uneventful, it consisted mainly of coffee runs, delivering files and passing messages along. That was until your third coffee run where you ran straight into a wall, well actually it wasn’t a wall but it felt like it. The coffee spilled everywhere, on your clothes and his, and you were going to fall on your butt if it wasn’t for him grabbing your arms to steady you. Imagine your surprise when you looked up to see Captain America himself.

And that’s the moment your love story started. It seemed like something straight out of a romantic comedy and you loved it. It started with flirting, a date and then another, him asking you to be his girlfriend and finally asking you to move in once you graduated. It felt like a fairytale.

Tony wasn't very happy about you and the Capsicle but he saw how happy you were so he tried to be happy too. Tony was your uncle even if you didn’t share any blood. Growing up you would visit your aunty Pepper in New York and he was always around, you even stayed at his house when Pepper and him had to work. So, you two became really close even before he became Iron Man and started dating your aunt. 

The same thing happened with Rhody. Your close relationship with Tony meant you were close to him too, seeing as he was one of the most important people in his life. Rhody treated you like his niece and was the only one he didn’t make fun of which you took as the ultimate compliment. 

So those three you knew before you started working at the compound and before Steve. But once you started working there you met the rest of the Avengers. Being Pepper and Tony's niece and Steve's girlfriend meant they all wanted to get to know you. 

You met Bruce Banner, the Hulk, and you became really close. But that was thanks to his close relation with Tony and all the time you spent with him working on his social media presence to make sure people saw him as more than just the green monster who smashes things. After a while of working there they promoted you and now you manage the Avengers social media.

Nat and Wanda became your best friends from the moment you met. You just clicked and hung out as much as possible, being the only girls on the team meant they were really happy to have another female added to the mix. As for Vision, he liked you because Wanda did, simple as that.

Bucky and Sam were the funniest people ever, their constant bickering always brought a smile to your face and they welcomed you with open arms. Happy that their friend had finally found someone to be with.

Thor and Clint were like the fun uncles you got to see every once in a while. The God of Thunder was like an excited puppy and would hug you till you couldn’t breath every time he came to Earth and Clint would joke around with you and FaceTime you when he was with his kids because they loved you (“best babysitter ever” that called you).

You met Peter when he started working for your uncle. He was a sweet kid and your love of memes, vines and pop culture made you instant friends. He would ask you for advice on girls and tell you science jokes.

But we all know not all fairytales have a happy ending and this one definitely didn’t. You’re feeling so many things at once. There’s anger, sadness, jealousy and something else you can’t put your finger on. You keep crying and are unable to move from your kneeling position on the floor. Checking the clock you realize you’ve been on the floor crying for an hour so you stand up.

Taking a shower seems like the best thing to do, your head is pounding and your face is all puffy. As you shower it hits you, that other feeling swirling around is inevitability. In a way you always thought he was too good for you, you always thought he would eventually get tired of you and trade you for someone else. 

It just hurt too much that it was her, the woman he shared so much with. The niece of Peggy Carter, his first love. An agent of S. H. I. E. L. D.  Someone who risked their life for the world like he did. Someone prettier. Someone better than you.

Yeah, you were definitely on a self-pity party. But you needed to be miserable for a while, to cry it all out, to hurt so that you could move on to the next stage of grief: anger. And when that came, there was no stopping you.

You weren’t a mean person, or a petty one. You gave everyone countless opportunities and forgave way too easily so you never really got angry. But when you did, when you said enough is enough, yeah, you better watch out. That could be the meanest bitch you ever met and she had no mercy.

So you got out of the shower, dried yourself and started getting ready. Tony was throwing yet another party about who knows what and you were not missing it. You liked parties, they were the perfect excuse for wearing pretty dresses and putting on make up. And tonight you were going all out. 

Your inner bitch was concocting a plan and you were going with it.

You hear the door open and prepare yourself to put on the best acting of your life. You take a deep breath and in the sweetest voice you can muster say: “Steve is that you babe?”

“Yeah doll it’s me” you hear him say. A few second later he pops into the bedroom and gives you a peck on the lips as you continue with your makeup.

“How was your day?” Steve asks as he takes off his clothes, probably to take a shower. “I missed you today, i went by your office but you weren’t there” he says with a small frown between his eyes. You could stare at his blue eyes forever but snap out of it when you remember what he did. 

“Oh not much, i left work earlier to get ready for tonight” you answer. Shit your work. You really did leave like that, but after tonight hopefully they’ll understand. “You should start getting ready, the party starts in thirty minutes”.

He smiles at you and tells you he’s going to take a quick shower before getting dressed. He goes to the bathroom and you feel like breaking the mirror but instead take a few deep breaths and remind yourself he’s getting what he deserves later on. With that in mind you finish applying you makeup and smile at yourself, you look good. Moving on to your hair you decide to do some loose waves and that’s it, you really don’t know how to make those complicated updos.

Steve gets out of the shower and starts putting on his suit. Men really do have it easier you think to yourself when you see all the work you had to do and he just showers and that’s it.

You take your dress out of the closet and admire it. It really is beautiful. It has a deep plunging neckline that shows a lot of cleavage and is skin tight with a slit on one side. The fact that it is silver with sequins makes it even better. Pepper helped you pick this dress. 

You put on the dress and admire yourself in the mirror. You look good. Behind you, you hear a whistle and turn around to see Steve watching you lust in his eyes. He comes closer and grabs you by the waist, pulling you to him.

“You look stunning” he says as he wets his bottom lip. “I can’t wait to take it off of you when we get back”. Lying cheating bastard.

“Can't wait” you lie as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. This is just a kiss goodbye you tell yourself. One last kiss before he’s out of your life and probably runs to her. Tears threaten to fill your eyes but you hold them down. Not now.

You break the kiss when the need to breathe is too strong. Grabbing his hand you start walking towards the door and say: “Come on, we’re already late”.

——————————————————————————

The party had already started once you walk in and in true Tony fashion it is elegant and extravagant. Everyone is there: S. H. I. E. L. D. agents, the Avengers themselves, politicians and a few famous people. 

You and Steve walk to the bar and order drinks. A whiskey for him and a strawberry daiquiri for you, yes you are that basic but hey, it tastes awesome. He offers you his arm and with drinks in your hands you start looking for your friends. A lot of people stop you on the way, nobody wants to miss an opportunity to talk to Captain America.

One thing, or rather on person, catches your attention: Loki. He’s sitting on one of the cushions alone with a drink in his hand. It’s weird to see him there. Sure, he was redeeming himself for what he did in 2012 and Thor said he was doing better but he rarely left Asgard (he “hated mortals”) and when he did come to Earth it wasn’t for a party.

As if he could feel you staring he turns his head and locks his eyes with yours. You weren’t going to lie, he was gorgeous. He was incredibly tall, had those charming green eyes and was actually funny (but you’d never admit that to anyone). But you were in love with Steve and never saw him as anything more than Thor's hot brother. And everyone in the Avengers was hot so that’s not saying much.

You turn away from him and see Nat and Wanda on the dance floor and you tell Steve you’ll see him later and to go find his friends. He’ll need them after tonight you think to yourself. You greet the girls and start dancing with them, for a moment forgetting about what you saw today and putting Loki out of your mind.

The three of you decided to take a break and order some more drinks. Once at the bar Wanda orders for you and when your drinks arrive you go back to the dance floor. You spend the next few hours dancing, talking to your friends and pretending that nothing's wrong. Talking to Steve and pretending that nothing's wrong. Hugging Steve and pretending that nothing's wrong. Kissing Steve and pretending that nothing's wrong.

The fact that Sharon is at the party doesn’t help at all. When you see her talking or touching him you feel like you’re gonna lose it but you remain strong. You remind yourself of your plan and try to keep them out of your mind.

There’s a small stage at the far end of the room and you see your uncle Tony step on it and grab the microphone.

“Hello everyone and thank you for coming to another one of my amazing parties. I hope you are having a good time and taking advantage of the free bar over there” he points to the other side of the room and continues, “Now for what we have all been waiting for: karaoke! And yes, i want everyone to sing something because that’s the whole point of this. I'm looking at you Manchurian Candidate, you’re singing”.

With that he gets off the stage and passes the mic to Sam who decided to sing a Marvin Gaye song. He’s pretty good actually but you can’t fully concentrate on him because your mind is going a thousand miles an hour for what it’s going to happen later.

More people go up and sing their songs and you applaud when they’re done. Nobody is talking much, they're all too busy either laughing at the others performance, drinking or actually listening to the songs. You’re sitting with Steve to your right, Bruce to your left and the rest of the Avengers nearby. You’re your own little group.

It’s finally your turn and as you walk to the stage you can hear your friends whistling and cheering you on. Once you’re up on the stage you choose the song and start singing. 

Ask you once, ask you twice now

There's lipstick on your collar

You say she's just a friend now

Then why don't we call her?

So you wanna go home with someone

To do all the things you used to do to me

I swear, I know you do

Used to take me out in your fancy car

And make out in the rain

And when I ring you up

Don't know where you are

'Til I hear her say your name

Used to sing along when you played guitar

That's a distant memory

Hope she treats you better than you treated me, ha

As you continue singing you get more and more confident and take the mic. You walk off the little stage and over to your friends while dancing and you can see them smiling, clapping and having fun. They have no idea how much i mean all of this you think. You look at Steve and he’s completely oblivious. Good, you want to take him by surprise. You arrive at your little circle of friends and start singing the chorus.

I'm onto you, yeah you

I'm not your number one

I saw you with her

Kissing and having fun

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done

Ciao adios, I'm done

Ciao adios, I'm done

You keep dancing and go back to back with Wanda who’s also singing along. You then turn to Nat and she grabs your hand and makes you do a little spin. 

After three, after four times

Why did I bother?

Tell me how many more times

Does it take to get smarter?

Don't need to deny the hurt and the lies

And all of the things you did to me

I swear, I know you did

And now you take her out in your fancy car

And make out in the rain

And when she rings you up

She know where you are

But I know differently

Now she sings along when you play guitar

Making brand new memories

Hope you treat her better than you treated me

You go up to Tony and he starts dancing around you busting out some dad moves. You laugh and keep on singing and dancing.

I'm onto you, yeah you

I'm not your number one

I saw you with her

Kissing and having fun

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done (I'm done)

Ciao adios, I'm done (no, no, no, no)

Ciao adios, I'm done

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done

And now you take her out in your fancy car

And make out in the rain

And when she rings you up

She know where you are

But I know differently

Now she sings along when you play guitar

Making brand new memories

Hope you treat her better than you treated me

You walk back to the stage as you sing and step up. You put the mic back into place and sing the last part of the song.

I'm onto you, yeah you

I'm not your number one

I saw you with her (with her)

Kissing and having fun (and fun)

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done (I'm done)

Ciao adios, I'm done (you get on with your life, I'll get on with my life)

Ciao adios, I'm done

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done

When you’re done people are clapping and cheering and you look to your friends to see them all smiling. You look at everyone and make a little mock bow and when you straighten you see Loki sitting on the same couch as before. But this time he’s looking at you and he’s laughing, not smiling and cheering but actually laughing.

You look back at your friends and say “Thank you, thank you” with a smile on your face. You continue , “I wanted to dedicate this song to my boyfriend Steve” you point at him.

“In case it wasn’t clear enough, i wanted to tell you that i saw you with Sharon”. You could hear a pin drop. No one was talking and all eyes were on you. This is what you wanted, to humiliate him as much as he did you. And what better way to do it than publicly? Oh but you weren’t done.

You could see Steve's face going pale and nobody knew where to look, if at you or at him. Tony look ready to murder him as did Rhody, Pepper, Peter and Bruce. Thor, Clint and Vision looked shocked. But Bucky, Sam, Nat and Wanda looked guilty.

Your heart breaks a little more when you realize they knew. You can’t really blame Bucky and Sam for not telling you, they were Steve's friends after all. But you thought the girls were your friends, that they would have told you. Apparently you overestimated that friendship.

You keep on smiling and continue “So… I’m breaking up with you. Hope she was a good fuck and wasn’t uncomfortable with the fact that you were once in love with her aunt”. You do a dramatic pause and make a little disgusted face. “Anyway, if I’m lucky i´ll never see you again. Have a great life!”

And with that, you walk off the stage and make your way to your friends. Steve is rooted to the spot and his face is red with embarrassment. You walk up to him, look him straight in the eye and give him an evil smile. He gulps and opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something and then closes it. He does is two more times and still nothing comes out.

You turn to your group and look at Wand and Nat, who can’t seem to be able to look you in the eye. You sigh and say: “Who want enemies when they can have you as their best friends right?”. They look up then and start talking. Telling you how sorry they are and to please forgive them. You raise your hand to silence them and they do.

You go to your aunt and uncle who look like there should be smoke coming out of their ears and say: “I’m gonna stay in a hotel for the night, can’t stand to be here anymore”. Tony scrunches his eyebrows and look at you like you’re crazy.

“Hell no. You’re staying here. We can find him another room to sleep in but you’re not leaving. If anyone’s leaving is Mr. Star-spangled over there” he practically screams the last part as he points at Steve.  

You take a deep breath and hug him. It takes him by surprise but he puts his arms around you. “I appreciate it uncle Tony but i can’t stay at the compound, it just hurts too much” you say as you let go. Turning to your aunt you hug her as well and say: “Thank you for everything but I quit”.

The moment those words leave your mouth everyone starts talking at the same time telling you how crazy you are and to think about it. You just smile at them and tell them you already made up your mind. “I'm gonna go pack a bag and ask Happy to take me to a hotel nearby. Please make sure he doesn’t follow” you say as you point to a still red-faced Captain America. 

With that you turn around and leave. The room is silent for a few seconds before you hear your friends all screaming at Steve. You look around for a second and notice that Loki is staring at you with a smirk on his face. When you look him in the eye he raises his glass at you ant takes a sip. 

You give him a small smile and walk through the doors towards the elevator.