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kamiversee · 2 months ago

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── SEX FOR BUSINESS ──

CHAPTER TWO: For Temptation

{ Synopsis } — A tale in which you refuse to align sex with anything more than an act committed for the benefit of status gain. You’re a whore by choice and it works… until it doesn’t?

{ Chapter Content } — language, teasing, mild tension, taunting, etc.

{ Pairings } — jjk (office) men x f!reader, gojo x f!reader, nanami x f!reader, higuruma x f!reader, shiu x f!reader, kusakabe x f!reader, & ino x f!reader.

{ Word Count } — 5k

[ m!list ]

——VIXEN; THE ONLY WORD RACING through Nanami Kento’s mind as he stands alone in the elevator with you. You’re a woman of temptation, sex appeal personified so effortlessly that it’s intoxicating to be in any confined space with you. And the worst part about it? You seem to have not the slightest clue of how it affects those around you.

Bright amber-set lights illuminate the elevator space, the vibrance falling and reflecting so so beautifully against any teasing slip of skin you had showing. For example, the shirt you were wearing. Nanami’s eyes only needed half a second to flick down your attire before he snapped them shut and sucked in a crisp intake of air through his nose.

He’s surrounded by temptation daily. Many women work at his company and so clearly dress in hopes of gaining his attention—leaving taunting numbers of buttons undone on their tops, wearing the tightest of skirts, etcetera. One could say that by now Nanami’s grown rather numb to the teasing and taunting of a woman in the workplace.

But you? Of course there’s something about you—and being on this short elevator ride with you is proof. Nanami just refuses to turn his head to you again. He got more than enough of a good look at you when he came knocking on your office door mere moments ago, any more than what his eyes drank in previously would just be greedy.

Though, simply keeping his eyes off of you isn’t enough. It’s like the elevator was moving especially slowly today. Normally there’s a person or two occupying it but today, luck seems to be against the man as he stands a few inches away from you alone. Soon slithering into his nose is this fragrance that makes him puff out the most gentle sigh he physically can.

Carefully shutting his eyes, Nanami tries to refocus himself on the reason why you two are headed up to his office now. But god if every second near you wasn’t telling him all he needed to know about you. He wanted to speak with you about a job you had in the past, something that caught his eye while he was speaking with his HR team.

You didn’t know this though. Hell, you were rather oblivious to a great deal of things by this point. Like, for example, the annoying hard-on you left your poor assistant with in your office.

Now, Kusakabe is a pretty dignified man from what you gathered within the tour he gave you. He’s well-spoken and likes to get straight to the point of things. You and he held quite the chemistry with one another throughout the morning. From the moment you met and exchanged a very firm handshake to the moment you both disappeared into that office of yours for only a few minutes.

To reiterate from earlier, it was said that you’re oblivious to a great deal of things. But, that’s not entirely true.

In fact, you know exactly what you’re doing. And you actually have quite the idea of the state in which you left your assistant. Within those few minutes you and he were alone in your office, you’d pulled some of the most basic stunts—bending over in front of him, crouching in front of him, lingering your touches, and overall getting a nice feel of how well he’s able to maintain his composure.

Y’know, acting like a complete ditz on purpose. It works how you want it to almost every time without fail!

And Kusakabe was a shamelessly honest man. You liked that about him. Even when he didn’t literally say anything, his body, especially his eyes, had a way of voicing everything you needed to know and more.

Not even halfway through your first day here and you already had him wrapped around your finger. Perfect.

Currently though, your object of lustful desires has shifted onto the big bossman; Nanami. Standing a respectable distance from you in the elevator with his hands tucked so neatly into the pockets of his slacks, shirt desperately begging to pop right off of him at any given moment, straining against the muscles of his arms, and unknowingly mesmerizing you into a drooling stare—he was quite the tease himself.

However, the difference between you and him was as clear as day. Nanami was truthfully oblivious.

His face was as stoic and straight-kept as they come. You could probably tell someone the number of times that man blinked during the elevator ride given how stiff he was. His breathing was slow and steady, as if every inhale was treading on something dangerous and each exhale was something of relief.

With a long-awaited ding!, the elevator finally stops at the designated floor and the doors rumble open. Nanami gestures a hand out for you to go first and you step forward with a slight nod of your head. He quickly regrets his decision as his eyes peel open and meet your back profile. The natural sway of your hips as you walked in front of him, the look in your eye when you oh-so-casually glance back at him, and the—

Something drops out of your hand and you let out a small gasp. “Oops,” You murmur all innocently before your torso begins to lower.

Yeah, Nanami’s no idiot. You knew what you were doing. He doesn’t even know what you dropped, nor does he care to find out, because he’s too busy clearing his throat and stepping past you entirely with his head held all high.

Okay, so he clearly had more composure than that assistant of yours. The realization makes you smile a bit as you begin to stand straight up—this makes Nanami a challenge. You like that.

As you pick whatever item it is you dropped up off the floor and raise your eyes along with it, you take in the view of the entire floor Nanami has all to himself. His office is separated from the elevator space, to give him some sense of privacy you assume. As you walk into said office, you notice the large open windows decorating the exterior, exposing the most gorgeous view of the city outside, and… you could almost say you were jealous he had all this to himself.

Shaking your head out of your slight stupor, you quickly pick up your feet to carry on with the following behind Nanami. He walks you over to his desk and it’s there that you’re met with someone sitting in a chair right in front of it.

Nanami gestures his hand toward the guy, just barely, as he passes him and his voice is neutral with you, “My assistant; Ino—”

You let out a surprised cough as the man turns around to look at you and then both of your eyes go wide at the same time. “Takuma?” You breathe out, earning a friendly smile from the brown-haired male who quickly stands to his feet and approaches you.

“What’re you doing here?” Ino scoffs out lightheartedly, clearly surprised. “This isn’t the new job you were raving about this morning, is it?”

The two of you meet in a friendly embrace before you pull back a bit and flash a smile, “I could ask you the same thing, I didn’t know you worked here!” You exclaim.

Ino reciprocates your smile with one of his own, allowing his eyes to dance down along your attire before his brows lift, “And you look amazing, wow,” He gasps a little, clearing his throat and turning back to Nanami for a second, “She’s our new marketing director?”

Nanami replies with a stark nod of his head as he takes a seat at his desk.

“Huh.” Ino hums, turning back to you and now extending a hand out for you to shake. You watch the way his demeanor shifts into something formal as your hand meets his own and the two of you share a very firm shake, “Well, in case no one else has said it yet, welcome!”

Your smile brightens as you continue to hold his hand, “Thank you, I-,” You cut yourself off a bit, trying to mentally wrap your head around the fact that this is the same man you saw grabbing his mail in a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt earlier that morning. “I really wasn’t expecting to see you here, this is a nice surprise.”

The two of you quickly engage in a bit of small talk—consisting of Ino asking you things like how you like the company so far and if you’re learning your way around the building smoothly or not. Throughout the entire conversation, you swear your mind is everywhere but the questions leaving his lips.

You’ve been Ino’s next-door neighbor for almost a year now and you still can’t believe this is where he’s been working all this time. Not only that, he looks entirely different dressed all formally. Hell, even the way he’s talking to you right now is anything but the casual way in which he converses with you any time you pass by one another in your apartment complex.

With his white button-up top revealing his smooth toned collarbone, sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms—which, now that you’re getting a good look at his currently crossed arms, he looks far more toned than you remember. You find yourself tilting your head as your eyes travel all along his arms, a beam of light catching in the reflection of his watch being the only thing to break you away from your ogling.

Something you’ve been doing all morning, by the way. Every person you’ve spoken to so far just looks so damn good all cleaned up and ready for work. Especially that assistant of yours. Shit, he might even be a distraction for you with the way he had his black tie so lazily loosened around his white-collared shirt and a lollipop rolling around his tongue in between the lengthy monologues he gave you.

Then there was the beautiful violet-haired woman you met just a floor below your own-, you think her name was Utahime—HR’s department director, and undoubtedly the sweetest woman you’ve ever spoken to. You specifically remember how the pencil skirt she wore hugged her hips and how stunning she looked gazing up at you from her desk as she spoke to you. It had to be a crime to walk around with such pretty brown eyes.

You’ll definitely be going out of your way to visit HR again on your own time just to talk to her.

There’s also Gojo, even though you and he don’t seem to get along too well so far, he is stupidly handsome. Actually, that might even be an understatement. He looks like an angel. Sure, his eyes carried some sort of malice toward you when you first saw them but who cares—they’re the prettiest shade of blue you’ve ever seen in your life. And that was from across the room. His snowy white hair, tall looming frame, and crisp navy blue suit were enough to leave you both annoyed and attracted at the same time.

Last but certainly not least, you don’t even know where to begin where Nanami’s concerned. Looking past Ino for a moment, you steal yet another glance at the man and find your eyes immediately running elsewhere as you notice he’s already looking at you. His hair was well kept parted to the side, safe for the two strands he let decorate his forehead. Then there’s that flawlessly clear skin of his that makes up his perfectly sculpted face.

Nanami had very sharp features, so sharp that you swear that man isn’t even real. Clad in a blue button-up with this questioningly fashionable black and yellow tie—you wonder how the hell he’s able to pull off such an ensemble of clothing. And then let’s not even talk about the khaki-colored slacks he’s got on. That piece of fabric hugged him in all the right places and more.

You even got an unprompted glance at his ass earlier and the only word you had for that was damn. Then there were his thighs and the way his pants just hugged his every muscle-

“Hey,” Ino says suddenly, to which you blink out of your thoughts and realize you’d been staring hard at his arms this entire time. “You okay? You zoned out on me for a second there.”

You shake your head a little and then nod, “Yeah, sorry I just-,” You make a gesture in the air with your hand, “I’m still shocked you work here.”

With a heartwarming grin, Ino gives you a kind nod of his head, “That’s okay, I get it.” Then he leans a little closer to you and whispers, “I’m still surprised I work here too sometimes, trust me.”

You laugh at his way of reassuring you and then he steps to your side and places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “But, as I said before, welcome to the company. If you need anything, you can usually find me up here or somewhere trailing behind Nanami.”

You respond with an understanding nod of your head and he lifts his hand, waves you bye, and walks off to exit Nanami’s office.

After watching him leave, you place yourself back into reality. You’re standing in the CEO’s office on your first day. Now that everyone else is gone, you think it’s safe to admit that deep down inside you’re nervous as hell. Wondering to yourself why he brought you up here, you’re slow to turn your attention back to Nanami—who’s been quietly waiting for you and Ino to finish your small talk.

You can’t even read his facial expression. He looks neither happy nor upset. His face is just… neutral.

Clearing your throat, you straighten up your posture and step forward to take the seat beside the chair Ino was previously sitting in. “Sorry about that, sir. I shouldn’t have let that conversation go on for as long as it did. You wanted to speak with me about something?”

Nanami averts his eyes down to a document placed on his desk in front of him, “You’re fine, and yes,” God, his voice was just as distracting as everything else about him. Deep, soothing, and very faintly domineering if you listened hard enough. What’s up with the people in this place being so attractive? “I’m sure you’re familiar with the company policy by now?”

You nod, “I read over it, yes.”

“Good,” Nanami lets out a relieved little sigh and sets his eyes on yours again, “Then I won’t be taking up too much of your time. I called you in here just to clarify something that’s explicitly stated in that verbose policy of ours.”

“Okay…” You lean forward a bit and now you’re even more nervous than you were before. You might not be on the verge of losing your job but something’s telling you that he’s about to bring up—

“The last person in your position was removed from this company because of a policy violation that’s quite similar to an incident that came up during a background check on you,” Nanami continues, clasping his hands together over his desk. “We won’t have a deep discussion about it as it’s clear this took place years ago but, I hope you understand that all sexual acts are strictly prohibited on company grounds.”

Awkwardly, you manage a smile. “Of course, I’m very well aware of that, sir.”

Pausing ever so slightly, Nanami takes a second before clearing his throat and moving forward with the conversation, “Wonderful. Now, with that being said, we do not have an anti-fraternization policy here so please do not be alarmed by any couples you may run into.”

“Oh? You allow coworkers to date one another?” You inquire with an intrigued tilt of your head.

Nanami nods slightly, “There’s even a couple on the fourth floor who got married a few months ago, yes.”

Continuing, you lift a brow, “And this doesn’t disrupt work at all?”

“No, everyone here is well aware of the consequences that should follow them if they allow their personal, romantic issues to mix or interfere with their work,” He replies simply.

“I see. And, just so that I understand this whole thing fully, these consequences consist of losing their job here, yes?”

“Yes, both parties would be removed.”

Where was that rule back when you and Yaga were a thing… Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at the thought of that wonderful job you lost all those years ago, you force a grin onto your face, “Ohh, okay. Understood.” Then you shift in your seat, readying yourself to stand and leave, “Was that all, sir?”

And you might have imagined it but you swear the very corner of his lips twitch before he says, “You don’t have to call me that but, yes.”

Pausing your movements, you settle back into your seat, “Pardon? You don’t want me to call you ‘sir’? Would you prefer Mr. Nanami–”

He cuts you off with a sigh, “No, no… Just Nanami is fine.”

“O-Oh, uhm.. Okay.” You hum bashfully. Have you done something wrong already? Shaking out of it, “That’s all you brought me up here for?” You ask.

Nanami’s eyes slip over to his computer screen and his answer is thrown out nonchalantly, “Yes.”

“Excuse all my questions but,” Your voice carrying on with everything aside from ‘okay, bye’ causes the man to drag his gaze back onto you—brown eyes boring into your own. Ignoring the look he was giving you entirely, “You came all the way down to the seventh floor to personally escort me up here just to tell me that?”

Another sigh exits his lips but he manages to hinder his irritation as best as he can, “Yes. I personally had to deal with the woman I mentioned before, the one who had your position previously, so I thought it best that I have a one-on-one conversation with you so that you understand the gravity behind our policy.”

For a moment, you pause. You were still confused why he himself had to come speak to you when he’s got a perfectly reliable assistant who seems like he’d throw himself off the edge of a building if Nanami requested it so.

Hence the slight reluctance your tone carries as you continue, “I don’t mean to give you a hard time about this but–”

“You’re about to anyway,” Nanami cuts off dryly, still staring into what felt like your soul.

“I am,” You say sarcastically, meeting that stare of his with a bold one of your own, “You could have sent your assistant down to tell me everything you just told me.”

Something in his face shifts. He seems interested in how long you’re going to drag this conversation out now, “True but I don’t think an assistant’s word sticks as strongly as a CEO’s, now does it?”

Shrugging, “I see no difference when he’s your assistant—the ‘CEO’s’ assistant.” You mock.

Nanami goes quiet for a second, simply holding that intense eye contact with you. After which, his expression relaxes and this sense of satisfaction faintly washes over him, “...You’re right.” He admits, “I could have very well sent Ino down and the effect would have been the exact same. But,” He suddenly stands to his feet, “I wanted to see what kind of woman you were for myself.”

“Why?” You ask without thinking. At some point, you should really consider who exactly you’re speaking to right now.

The blonde doesn’t even try to hide his confusion as your question hits his ears. His brows twinge a bit and his eyes narrow even further at you, as if to silently ask you why the hell you’re so curious. “I like to lay eyes on my employees.” He utters flatly.

Your brows shoot up, “Oh so you do this with everyone you hire–”

“—Sometimes,” He adds to his previous statement, huffing afterward whilst he glares down at you, “Are you done?”

You blink, “Excuse me?”

“With your questions,” Nanami clarifies. He’s a bit caught off guard by your lack of timidness around him. The way you keep asking him questions and even the way you respond to his own is concerning for someone on their first day. “Is there anything else you need to know?”

Standing to your feet now, you give an innocent little shrug, “Not at this moment, no.”

“Great. Ino will see you out,” With a nod of his head toward his office exit, Nanami’s clearly ready for you to exit his presence as quickly as possible. “Enjoy the rest of your first day.”

“You have a pleasant day too,” You say all sweetly as you step past your chair and smile, “Sir.”

Moments later and you’re out of his sight.

Nanami is seemingly stuck standing and staring into the space you’d recently occupied. As stated before, only one word runs throughout his mind; vixen. It’s obvious you like testing his patience, even though you just got here. A trait in which he can’t even begin to wrap his head around.

The confidence it takes to sit here and question his every action as if he doesn’t run this place is truly astounding. And to add to it, you knew you were irritating him. He could see it all over your face; the way you so smugly asked him why he wanted to see the kinda woman you were, the way you carried your voice out to him—he couldn’t help but note the way you only stuttered once.

Most women don’t last that long without tripping over themself around him.

And above all else, it has to be noted how keeping his eyes off of you is damn near impossible when you’re sitting right in front of him. Rolling his eyes, Nanami sits back down in his chair annoyed by how painfully gorgeous you are. And it wasn’t just your looks alone, it was your demeanor too—you knew very well just how stunning you were and that was the most dangerous part about you.

In a way he couldn’t quite wrap his head around, it almost irritated him. Not you but more-so your person as a whole. Every little detail of yours is sticking to the forefront of his mind as he tries to shift his focus back onto his work and it bothers him. He might have to find a reason to fire you from now. This isn’t going to be good for his health in the long run—you aren’t going to be good for his health.

Shaking his head, no, he can’t fire you. Your credentials are far too perfect for him to let you go so soon.

Nanami ends up scoffing at himself. He’s gonna drive himself crazy at this rate. You’re five floors below him so it’s not like he’ll see or talk to you too often. He’d be much worse off if you were in Ino’s position. God, he can’t even begin to imagine how much of a headache (amongst other things) you’d give him if he had you by his side all day.

“Sir?” The sound of his assistant’s voice suddenly enters the office and Nanami looks up from the document he’d been idle at. “Are you alright?” Ino asks.

Nanami flashes a confused look, “Yes, why?”

Ino moves a hand to his forehead and makes a little gesture as he approaches his boss, “You’re sweating.” He then hands him some napkins that he just-so-happens to have in his pocket.

Still confused, Nanami takes the napkins and begins to dab at his forehead. “That’s odd. Is it hot in here?”

“Not at all, sir,” Ino says with a shrug, nodding his head over to one of the slightly opened windows, “We’ve got some fresh air comin’ in here and everything.”

At that, Nanami nods his head before finishing up with the napkins, disposing of them, and then returning to his work.

Without a doubt, that perspiration built up against his skin was 100% your doing. How? Nanami has no idea but he knows it was you.

Even going as far as muttering to himself as he settles back into his chair, “Vixen.”

“Huh?” Ino, having completely missed what just left his boss’s lips, questions.

“Nothing.”

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

Meanwhile…

You had entered the elevator alone, finally letting out a breath of air you weren’t aware you’d been holding in.

As you reach out and press the button for the seventh floor and the elevator begins its slow descent, you allow yourself a moment to collect your thoughts.

It’s day one but you’ve accomplished more than you expected to. You’ve got a worked-up assistant awaiting your taunting return in your office, a hot rival(?) coworker who seems to hate you to pieces despite literally never talking to him, a familiarly attractive face in the building, and a boss whose skin you don’t mind getting under (in all/every sense).

The elevator places a couple of floors before stopping at the tenth, the doors creaking open and pulling you away from your thoughts. So much for getting a moment to yourself.

Revealed to you once the doors part nice ‘n wide is a tall dark-haired man with a thin mustache that your eyes immediately gravitate toward. He’s wearing an all-black suit and doesn’t hesitate to eye you up and down as he steps into the elevator.

At first, he doesn’t say anything and neither do you. Hell, he doesn’t even press any of the buttons to show what floor he’s going to—which tells you that he’ll be visiting the same as you, great. Slowly, his cologne starts wafting into your nose and in the instant that it does, you end up sneaking another glance at him.

He’s standing at your side so it was kinda hard to pretend you weren’t stealing any glances at him. Though, it’s not like you’re ashamed of your not-so-sneaky way of checking him out because it quickly works in your favor.

The mystery man turns to you slightly and cocks his head to the side, eyeing you down. “You new?” His husk voice practically smacks against your ears with the way it leaves you startled.

“Pardon?” You chirp out as your eyes gravitate upward to meet his own.

Clearing his throat, “Sorry, I jus’ haven’t seen you around before. Are you new?”

You blink once-, twice as you process his question. Something about his voice was almost making you dizzy… in a good way. “I am,” You eventually get out. Then your brows meet together and you wonder how the hell he figured that when tons of people work in this building and surely there’s some he hadn’t seen before. “Today’s my first day, how’d you know?”

The man tuts with a casual shrug of his shoulders before turning to face forward again, “You look new.”

You bite back a scoff, “What do you mean by that?”

“I’d remember you if I’d seen you around before now,” He clarifies carefully.

Your eyes remain on him as he looks straight ahead, “What if I worked on a floor you’ve never been to?”

The corner of his lips lifts into a smirk, “There is no floor I haven’t been to yet, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” You hum, a light wave of embarrassment wafting over you. You feel like you should know who he is for some reason.

“Yeah, oh.” The man mocks, his smirk only widening, “Plus you’ve got that first-day glimmer in your eyes.”

Your eyes widen, “Do I really?”

“Mhm,” He hums, glancing at you once more and looking you up and down, “Lemme guess, new marketing director?”

Okay, at this point you’re starting to wonder if you have your new role written on your forehead or something because it seems like everyone seems to know exactly who you are. “How’d you know??” You gasp.

His smirk flickers into something a bit more smug and his eyes are gentle as they lay on yours again, “...I took a wild guess.”

“You’re lying,” You point out lightly.

“I am,” He snorts, “Our last one was a doll, jus’ like you.”

Rolling your eyes at his cheap attempt at flirting, you respond with sarcasm this time around, “And that’s how you figured it out?”

“Yup,” The man says with a sassy pop of the p at the end.

A bit more playful this time, you scoff, “You’re lying again.”

His expression falters a little, “I am. Damn, you don’t miss a beat, do you?”

“I do sometimes,” Is it just you or is this elevator moving even slower than it was earlier, “You’re just not good at lying.”

The male beside you lets out a chuckle and throws his hands up in defeat, “Alright, alright. I know because you just came from the twelfth floor.” He explains with a nod of his chin toward the elevator buttons.

Not that his explanations fair your confusion any better, “How do you know I didn’t come from the eleventh?”

“See now that’s how I know you’re new,” He states, meeting eyes with you once again, “You have no papers in your hands and there’s nothing on the eleventh floor aside from printers ‘n junk.”

Shyly, you let out a simple utterance of, “Oh.”

“Yeahh,” The man says slyly, his voice carrying all throughout the space you both occupied.

The elevator finally reached the seventh floor and with another loud ding!, it began to open. The man waits for you to step out first before following after you.

“I never caught your name,” You end up saying as you turn back, catching the way his eyes casually lift from somewhere below.

He clicks his tongue and quirks this almost flirtatious lil’ smirk, “Shiu Kong,” He introduces before holding his hand out for you to shake, “But you can jus’ call me Shiu.”

You take his hand and shake it formally, feeling his thumb go running across your knuckles within the brief contact, “It’s nice to meet you, Shiu.”

“Please,” He smiles a handsome smile at you, “The pleasure is all mine, doll.”

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hellyeahscarleteen · 4 months ago

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"When you notice you're feeling jealous, don't panic! It's probably a good idea to talk to your partner(s) at some point, but before you do that, take some time to reflect on your feelings and see if you can figure out where they're coming from; that might help you address them more easily.

For example: feeling left out because a partner is doing something fun with a new datefriend? See if you can plan to do your own special activity with them sometime soon so you can feel cared for and know they're excited about you too. Do you worry that a new metamour⁠ is going to outshine you, or does the spark of a partner's new relationship excitement feel a lot stronger than your connection with them is now? Take some time to reconnect with your partner and talk about what you each find special and compelling about each other. Are you jealous of a partner having an easier time finding other people to date than you're having? You might need to refocus your personal life to make sure you're not solely focusing on dating relationships: reconnect with friends, find some new activities, or dig into some personal projects.

A common mistake made by people who are feeling a lot of jealousy in a poly context is to try and combat that jealousy by establishing more rules for the relationship. It can feel like saying "only spend the night with me" or "don't have X kind of sex with anyone else" is a way of protecting part of your relationship or keeping it special, but it's likely to make a partner feel stifled and isn't doing anything to address the underlying feelings of jealousy or insecurity. Instead, take some time to explore your feelings of jealousy. Of course it's ok to have limits and boundaries in an open relationship⁠, but if jealousy or discomfort are driving those boundaries, it can be more productive to address the feelings in question than to pile on more restrictions."

Mo Ranyart and s.e. smith, A First Polyamory Guide

#jealousy #emotions #polyamory #relationships #dating #sex ed #sex education

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notlongtolove · 5 months ago

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sun makes the day new

it’s not the first time derek has called him during a night out, trying to rope him into joining the fun. the usual calls came with garbled voices passing the phone around, shouting ‘wish you were here!’, ‘just come out!’ and multiple slurred variations of ‘reidddddd’. but derek’s never called for help before.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff

content: bau!reader is drunk! and spencer takes care of her

word count: 3.8k

note: spencer taking care of drunk bau!reader fills a void in me... spencer is reading the olfactory ethics thesis from twitter hahahahhhaha

a line: You’re the only reason he’d ever go—and the only reason he’d ever go unwillingly.

Sun makes the day new. Tiny green plants emerge from earth. Birds are singing the sky into place. There is nowhere else I want to be but here. I lean into the rhythm of your heart to see where it will take us. - joy harjo

It’s not often that Spencer gets a night to himself. Well, he’s used to spending most nights alone, but tonight, he actually has the time to make a cup of tea, to tuck himself under the sheets with a new read, even light the candle Garcia had given him two christmases ago. Nights like these, quiet and uninterrupted, are few and far between.

“This thesis studies how literature registers the importance of olfactory discourse—the language of smell and the olfactory imagination it creates—in structuring our social world. The broad aim of this thesis is to offer an intersectional and wide-ranging study of olfactory oppression by establishing the underlying logics that facilitate smell’s application in creating and subverting gender, class, sexual, racial and species power structures. I focus largely on—”

And then his phone is ringing, cutting through the stillness. With a heavy sigh, he lifts it to his ear begrudgingly, but before he can say anything, pulsating music bursts through the speaker, forcing him to pull it away sharply and fumble with the volume.

“Reid! Hey!” Derek’s voice crackles over the line. “What are you—” your voice cuts in, loud and unmistakably indignant. “Are you calling Spencer—You’d better not be!” “I didn’t! I’m not—Ow!” A muffled struggle follows and then a sharp gasp. “You did! Oh, Derek Morgan, I’m gonna—”

The line cuts off abruptly, leaving Spencer staring at his phone, brow furrowed in confusion. He considers calling Derek back but hesitates, Derek’s a tough guy; he can handle you, even when you’re tipsy. So, he sets the phone down and tries his best to refocus on the article in his lap.

“I focus largely on prose fiction from the modern and contemporary periods so as to trace the legacy of olfactory prejudice into today and situate its contemporary relevance. I suggest that smell very often invokes identity in a way that signifies an individual’s worth and status in an inarguable manner that short-circuits conscious reflection. This can be accounted for by acknowledging olfaction’s strongly—”

But the phone rings again, breaking the distinct quiet of his room. Spencer’s eyes flicker with irritation as he picks it up, this time holding it a safe distance from his ear.

“Can you—Would you get off me—Can you hear me?” The music in the background has faded, indicating that Derek has stepped outside. “Stop! Garcia grab her—Sorry, you there?”

“Still here.” His response is calm but tinged with impatience.

“Listen, we’ve got a bit of a… situation.”

The words immediately put Spencer on edge. It’s not the first time Derek has called him during a night out, trying to rope him into joining the fun. The usual calls came with a mix of laughter, music, and garbled voices passing the phone around, shouting ‘Wish you were here!’, ‘Just come out!’ and, of course, multiple slurred variations of ‘Reidddddd’.

But Derek’s never called for help before.

“How bad is it?”

Spencer hears Derek take a deep breath, as though trying to steady himself before turning back to the phone. “Man, it’s pretty bad.”

“He’s lying Spence,” your slurred voice protests from a distance, teetering between laughter and the edge of a sob, “I’m just—Augh!” comes your muffled reply, followed by a struggle that’s half-heard through the line—something heavy shifting, a soft thud. “I’m just tipsy!” Spencer strains to hear the distant sound of hurried footsteps, heels on pavement. “I got her! I got her!” The clatter of keys and the rustle of fabric echo in the background.

“Sweetie you’re not tipsy, you’re—very intoxicated,” He hears garcia add, worry coloring her words.

“I’d say shit-faced,” Emily chimes in from the background, the amusement in her voice undeniable.

“She’s—” Derek mutters, “She’s pretty messed up, and uh—” He hesitates, the pause stretching into the silence. “She wouldn’t stop asking for you.” There’s an edge of exasperation in his voice. “How soon do you think you can get to 43rd and King Drive?”

This isn’t the first time Spencer’s been dragged out for a night he didn’t want. And it’s certainly not the first time he’s seen you drunk. In fact, if there were a Venn diagram mapping Spencer’s nights out and nights he was reluctantly pulled into, you’d sit squarely in the middle. You’re the only reason he’d ever go—and the only reason he’d ever go unwillingly.

Spencer rubs the bridge of his nose, already standing up, his eyes shut tight as he breathes out a shaky sigh. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

When Spencer pulls up to the address Derek had texted him, the group of you is impossible to miss. Emily is leaning against a lamppost, cradling what Spencer can only hope is her last drink of the night. Derek, propped on a fire hydrant is half-heartedly trying—and failing—to flag down a cab. Meanwhile, Garcia sits on the curb, gently stroking your hair as you rest against her, your eyes half-closed and face flushed.

“What did she have?” Spencer demands as he steps out of the car.

Derek, standing a few feet away, immediately tilts his head toward Emily, as though absolving himself of any blame. “Ask that one.”

Spencer’s eyes narrow as they land on Emily. She meets his stare with a guilty look. “Vodka, tequila, … a couple shots.”

“How many?” Spencer asks, countering her.

“I uh, lost count.”

Spencer blinks, momentarily speechless.

“Bar was half off,” Emily shrugs, as if that explained everything.

With a sigh, Spencer shakes his head and crouches down beside you, his focus now entirely on your slumped form. His gaze softens as he takes in your flushed face and half-lidded eyes. You stir faintly, murmuring something incoherent as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your forehead.

“She’s been this way for the past fifteen minutes,” Garcia says softly, her concern evident. “Poor thing, all that running must have really worn her out.” She pauses, a hint of disbelief slipping into her voice. “Y’know, I never would’ve guessed she’d be a running drunk.”

“Didn’t take her for a scratcher, either,” Derek chimes in, rubbing at a red mark on his neck. “Damn, the girl’s got claws.”

If he weren’t so worried, Spencer might have chuckled and launched into an explanation about the statistics behind why some people bolt when they’re drunk. He’d looked it up after the time he’d had to chase you down during your birthday last year, the last one left standing to wrangle you back home. But right now, there’s no room for humour.

Kneeling beside you, Spencer places a steadying hand on your shoulder. His voice drops low, calm and gentle. “Hey, can you hear me?” Your eyelids flutter weakly, a faint groan slipping past your lips as you lean ever so slightly into his hand. It’s enough to give him a sliver of reassurance, though not much.

“She’s definitely gonna feel that in the morning,” Derek chuckles faintly, stepping closer.

“Not helping, Morgan,” Spencer deadpans, his tone heavy with dry exhaustion. “Has she, you know—?” He makes a vague gesture, his meaning clear.

Emily jerks her thumb toward a couple of lampposts down. “Mhm. Barely made it out.”

Spencer follows the direction of her gesture, catching sight of a dark puddle by the door glistening faintly under the streetlight. He swallows hard, grimacing. “Right. That’s—That’s good.”

He adjusts his grip on your arm, bracing himself as he turns to Derek. “Help me get her to the car,” Derek nods, crouching down to take your other arm. “On three,” he murmurs, and together they hoist you up with practiced care. Your body is limp but pliable, your head rolling slightly as they steady you between them.

The motion stirs you, your eyes fluttering open as an irritated groan escapes your lips. “Stoppp—I can walk, I can—Morgan let go!”

“It’s me—Hey,” Spencer says, his voice calm but tinged with urgency. “It’s just me.”

“Spence?” The word is slurred, fragile.

Spencer’s heart clenches at the sound, his frustration momentarily giving way to something softer. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he replies, his voice low and steady. “I’m here. We’re getting you home.”

As the word slips out, he catches Derek’s eyebrow arching in his peripheral vision, the silent question practically radiating off him. Spencer doesn’t falter, his sharp, no-nonsense stare meeting Derek’s head-on. It’s enough to make Derek quickly avert his gaze, holding back whatever teasing remark had undoubtedly been forming on his lips.

You and Spencer weren’t together. But you weren’t not together either. Whatever it was, it wasn’t in any way that people could put a label on. Unspoken yet undeniable. It wasn’t something you or Spencer were particularly adept at explaining either, nor was it something Spencer felt the need to justify, not to Derek, and especially not now.

Your head lolls slightly against Spencer’s shoulder as they guide you forward, your weight shifting unsteadily between him and Derek. In Spencer’s presence, your expression visibly softens, sharp tongue giving way to sugar-coated phrases, the tension in your body melting away. It’s a stark contrast to the wild, uncooperative runner and scratcher the other three had described and had very obviously struggled to contain.

“You’re so nice, honey,” you mumble, your words slurred but filled with earnest sincerity. “Always so nice.”

“Definitely could’ve used your help thirty minutes ago,” Derek quips sarcastically.

“I was reading—trying to.” The annoyance clings to Spencer’s words.

“Right,” Derek lets out a low chuckle, “of course you were.”

“Seeeee!” You fawn, “Isn’t he the nicest?” You pause for a moment, your head tilting as if considering something profound. “And so handsome. Very nice and very handsome. The nicest and the handsomest,” you muse, your tone dreamy and matter-of-fact.

Derek snorts, his grip on your arm steady. “Don’t start,” Spencer mutters, his voice dry but tinged with something softer. The faintest pink creeps up his neck as you lean into him, your head pressing against his shoulder, seeking the comfort only he seems to provide.

It’s a chaotic tangle of limbs, with Derek flinching when your hand swings a little too close to his face—again. But they manage to get you settled into the passenger seat. As Spencer leans over to fasten your seatbelt, Derek leans against the hood of the car, smirking, “You know, Reid, maybe it’s time to retire pretty boy. Honey has a nicer ring to it, don’t you think?”

“I dunno, I prefer sweetheart,” Emily quips, her tone syrupy and teasing. “It’s got that rustic charm,” she drawls, throwing in an exaggerated wink for good measure.

Spencer rolls his eyes as he slides into the car, the door closing behind him. He hesitates, casting a quick glance at the others. “You guys… you have a ride back right?”

“Aw, would you look at that? The perfect gentleman. A one-stop kind of guy.” Garcia teases, mischief in her eyes.

“More like a one-woman kind of guy,” Derek says under his breath—Just loud enough for everyone to hear. It earns him a playful swat on the arm from Garcia.

Spencer’s face turns a deep shade of pink as he stumbles over his words. “That’s not... that’s not what I meant,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I could—”

“Relax, Reid,” Emily interjects, gesturing toward the passenger seat. “Go get her home. We’ll figure ourselves out.” Spencer nods quickly, grateful for the out, though his ears are still burning as he starts the engine, determined not to look back at their knowing smiles.

The first time you brought Spencer to your apartment, you’d warned him about the stairs. He’d laughed it off, dismissing your concern with a grin, saying the three-flight walk-up wasn’t so bad—it added character, a touch of history to the building. “Besides,” he’d added, “did you know that having stairs in apartments likely means the building predates the widespread use of elevators which wasn’t all that common in residential construction until after Elisha Otis introduced his safety elevator in 1854?”

But now, hauling you up those very same stairs, Spencer is sweaty, out of breath, and cursing whoever thought a three-story walk-up in a brownstone was a good idea.

“One more step, just one more—there you go, sweetheart,” he says through gritted teeth, practically dragging you up those last few steps. “Now, where are your keys?” He pats your bag as he speaks, more to himself than to you.

“My—hiccup—my keys are—hiccup—in there,” you slur, pointing vaguely at the bag he’s already rifling through.

When the door finally swings open with a shove that’s harder than Spencer intended, it bangs against the wall, making both of you jump. You lurch forward, your balance teetering precariously, but Spencer is quicker, his arm darting out to catch you before you can topple over.

“Whoa, easy,” he says, his tone gentle but firm as he steadies you, his hand lingering at your waist to make sure you’re upright.

You hum in response, barely acknowledging his effort as you shrug off his support and make a beeline for the bedroom. Your steps are uneven, your movements sluggish, and before you can collapse face-first onto the bed, Spencer steps in again, catching you mid-fall.

“Uh-uh,” he chides as he props you back up. “How about we change before we dive into our nice, warm bed, huh?”

You blink at him, swaying slightly as you process his words. “Mm. Warm. I like warm.” You pause, and then, as if hit by divine inspiration, you blurt out, “Soup. I want soup.”

“Soup?” Spencer echoes, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone. “No soup, honey. Not right now,” he says, heading toward the bathroom to grab a makeup wipe. But before he can make it two steps, your bottom lip begins to tremble, tears pooling in your eyes.

“But… I,” you whisper, your voice cracking, “I really really want soup.”

Spencer freezes, his defences crumbling in an instant as he sees a single tear spills over, streaking your cheek. Oh, how could he ever say no to you?

“Oh, baby, no, don’t cry,” he murmurs, rushing back to you, crouching slightly to meet your gaze. He cups your face gently, his thumbs brushing away any other tears that threaten to fall. “Okay, okay. I’ll make you soup, alright? Just... let me take care of you first, yeah?”

Sniffling, you nod, your tears beginning to subside. “And then soup?” you ask softly, your voice small but hopeful.

Spencer’s lips curve into a gentle smile as he brushes a stray tear from your cheek. “Yeah, baby. And then soup. Whatever you want,” he murmurs, his tone warm and reassuring. Spencer knows deep down that you don’t actually want or need soup—it’s just the fixation of the moment in your drunken haze. Still, he decides to play along for now, hoping that with time, the thought will slip from your mind.

Carefully, he helps you out of your clothes, his hands steady and patient as he guides you into one of his soft, oversized shirts. You mumble something slurred and incoherent about how impossibly comfy it is, and his lips twitch into a fond smile. “Yeah honey, you’re right,” he humours you, adjusting the hem gently, “Fabric softener really does work wonders, doesn’t it?”

Spencer reaches for a makeup wipe from your vanity, his movements gentle as he starts to carefully remove the smudged remnants of mascara under your eyes. His eyes nearly pop out of his head when he sees one of your lashes come loose, but then he remembers you’d mentioned wearing false lashes on nights out. Right, that makes sense.

After two makeup wipes—both stained with hues of browns, pinks and purples, smudged from your makeup—he lifts your limp head, checking for any remaining traces. Your doe eyes blink up at him, looking soft and pretty, but there's an obvious blankness behind them as you babble on about how handsome he is.

You’d once talked about something you watched on double cleansing, or was it triple? Better safe than sorry, he thinks grabbing another wipe to be sure. Once he’s satisfied, he sets the wipe down and brushes your hair back from your face. “There we go,” he murmurs soothingly, brushing your hair back from your face. “All done,” he says, his voice soft as a lullaby.

You smile drips with affection as you look back up at him, and for a brief, blissful moment, he thinks the ordeal is over. Then you whisper:

“Soup?”

Spencer’s face falls, a mix of exasperation and reluctant affection washing over him. “Soup,” he repeats, more to himself than to you. He sighs, but when he looks down at your earnest, pleading face, his resolve crumbles all over again. “Okay, honey,” he relents, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’ll make you soup. You stay right here, alright?”

“M’kay,” you murmur, along with something incoherent, obediently crawling under the covers as Spencer tucks you in. And then you’re out like a light.

When you wake up the next morning, the first thing that hits you is the dull, relentless throb behind your eyes. The second is how heavy your body feels, limbs weighed down like lead, and you find yourself wincing as you shift under the tangled sheets. You’re not sure how you got home, you don’t know why your feet hurt so much either. And is that blood under your nails? You groan, clutching your temples in a futile attempt to block out the unanswered questions. Right now, all you know is that you need water. Desperately.

A sharp ache runs down your spine as you sit up, and you reach blindly for the water bottle on your nightstand. Your hand fumbles over the plastic, knocking it to the floor with a soft thud, and the sound only amplifies the pounding in your head.

“Hey, you alright there?”, Spencer calls out.

The unexpected voice startles you so much that you let out a sharp scream, immediately regretting it as the noise rebounds inside your aching head. “Ah! Jesus, Spence, you scared me!” you groan, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes.

Spencer’s face, which had been etched with concern, softens into a sheepish smile. He’s sitting in the chair by your bedroom door, a book resting on his knee, clearly having been there for a while. “Sorry, honey,” he says softly, closing the book and setting it aside. “I was just... keeping an eye on you.”

You blink at him, still trying to piece together why he’s even here. “Keeping an eye on me?” you ask, your voice hoarse and thick with confusion.

“You were... a little out of it last night,” Spencer explains gently, standing up and moving to pick up the water bottle that had fallen to the floor. He twists the cap open and hands it to you, his fingers brushing yours for just a moment, steadying your hand.

You take a cautious sip, the cool water soothing your parched throat. “Last night? But you—you weren’t even there.” You frown, trying to piece the fragmented memories together. There was Derek, Emily, Garcia, shots, that weird guy who kept staring at you, more shots... Were you really that drunk? No, you definitely would’ve noticed if Spencer had been there, right?

Spencer’s smile is small, almost apologetic, as he moves to sit on the edge of your bed, his voice soft but direct. “Let’s just say you’re pretty good at keeping everyone on their toes. And, uh, backup was needed.”

“That bad, huh?” you murmur. “What did I do?”

It’s kind of more like what didn’t you do? Spencer thinks but keeps it to himself. He hesitates for a moment, as if he’s deciding how much to tell you, then speaks carefully. “I think it’s safe to say Morgan’s not exactly thrilled about the scratch marks.” He can’t help the small laugh that escapes, but it’s more for reassurance than amusement.

“Oh, god.” You groan and bury your face in your hands, the embarrassment rising in your chest.

Spencer gently rubs reassuring circles on your knee, steady and soothing as he tries to ease the tension evident in your face. “You were... spirited,” he offers diplomatically. “Nothing unfixable. Besides, I’ve seen worse.”

You peek at him through your fingers, surprised by how calm he seems despite everything. “I’m so sorry, Spence,” you say, your voice muffled by your hands. “Did I ruin your night?”

He shrugs with a small, reassuring smile. “Not at all. Kind of hard to be mad after you called me ‘very nice and very handsome’ at least three times.”

You groan again, your cheeks burning as you down another sip of water. Spencer chuckles softly, the sound light and comforting.

“How’s your head?” he asks, his voice gentle with concern, though the answer is clear.

A groan.

“Aw, honey,” he coos sympathetically, his arms opening wide in invitation. “C’mere.”

Too drained to move, you opt for flopping forward into his lap instead, your body feeling heavy and sluggish. Spencer’s hands immediately go to your hair, stroking it gently, his touch soothing. “Hurts, huh?” he murmurs softly.

You whine in agreement, your head resting against him as you let his fingers work through your tangled hair. He chuckles lightly, a sound that brings some small relief. “You hungry?” he asks, his voice still filled with concern, though it’s laced with a hint of casual care.

Another mewl escapes you, the idea of food nearly as unappealing as your pounding headache.

“You need electrolytes, honey,” Spencer suggests gently, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “We’ve gotta get something in you.”

You peek out from the mess of your hair, an eyebrow quirked as you attempt a teasing smile. “So forward, Doctor Reid,” you try to joke, your voice sluggish. “At least buy me dinner first.”

“You know what I mean,” Spencer says as he jokingly swats your arm.

You huff softly, your eyelids barely staying open. “Can’t move,” you mumble, curling further into his lap, trying to escape the weight of your headache. “Don’t make me move.”

Spencer chuckles quietly, his fingers gently tracing the line of your hair as he speaks. "You've gotta move at some point, sweetheart."

You whine in protest, your body too exhausted to even think of standing. "An hour?"

"I'll give you 10 minutes," he counters.

"40?" you bargain weakly, lifting your head just enough to look at him through half-lidded eyes.

"20," he shoots back.

You think for a moment, the numbers swirling in your hazy mind. "30?"

Spencer's grin widens, body moving as you gently tug him closer. "Fine," he relents with a soft sigh. "But only because you called me handsome that fourth time." You roll your eyes as you shift to make space for him.

He slides onto the bed beside you, his body pressing against yours as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into the comfort of his warmth. Your head rests on his chest as he tucks you in closer, his fingers running soothingly along your arm.

"Hey, Spence?"

"Hm?"

"Why’s there a bowl of soup on my dresser?"

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid masterlist #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff

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jnginlov · 2 years ago

Text

you’re hongjoong’s bias

when you and your group go on idol radio to promote your latest comeback, you don’t anticipate one of the hosts to be completely enraptured by you

⇀ pairing idol!hongjoong x idol!reader

⇀ genre fluff, idol au

⇀ style one shot

⇀ word count 8.6k

⇀ warnings brief mentions of idol life difficulties, food, hugging, kissing, this is basically all fluff

⇀ reactions from the gc “IM GONNA JUMP OFF A MOVING TRAIN” “Ooohhhhhhh Oh Shit” “You love to torment us with this don’t you”

note this is written completely gender neutral, all of your group members use they/them pronouns and have unisex names so you can imagine any type of group, there’s a mention of makeup but all genders wear makeup in the entertainment industry, also here is a little playlist inspired by the group in this fic if you’re real delulu like me

your group, eclipse, had been enjoying your recent promotional period, your fans, lovingly termed starlight, had been working hard to promote your latest comeback and for once your company had been able to do the same. eclipse wasn’t particularly unknown before, you’d already had your first music show win and been recognized at several korean music award shows, but this was certainly your most successful song and mini album yet. you, as the main dancer and oldest, had particularly enjoyed all of the interest from idols that had asked to do the dance challenge with you for tiktok and instagram. it allowed you to meet a lot of people in the industry who you had admired and wanted to get to know before but didn’t know how to approach. of all the idols you had done the challenge with there was certainly one that stuck out in your mind, kim hongjoong, captain of ateez and dj on idol radio.

your group had gone onto the radio show as part of your promotions, something not unusual for you all as you’d been on an episode when youngjae and young k were the hosts, as well as one with joohoney and hyungwon as djs just over a year ago. this time, however, felt very different. maybe it was the nerves from how much more attention your group was receiving that was making you feel a little fidgety in your seat or maybe it was the fact that one of the djs couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

for the first ten minutes of your time at idol radio you’re scared that there’s something on your face, trying to subtly glance at any reflective surface to parse what could be causing someone to pay so much attention to you.

when yunho and hongjoong both seemed to be completely focused on another one of your members, asking something about the recording process for the album, you try to subtly place a hand on the arm of your group’s leader, nuri, sat right next to you.

as you lean away from the microphone in front of you, your leader turns to you, and you breathe out the word “makeup” in hopes that nuri will find whatever smudge caught hongjoong’s sharp eye.

unfortunately, they only shake their head, eyes darting around your face but returning to your own once they don’t find anything. they squeeze your hand gently with their own before turning back to the interview, a subtle gesture to both comfort you and let you know that they will definitely ask why you were concerned later.

as you retract your hand from nuri’s arm, you turn back to face the center of the table, which was conveniently set up so that your and nuri’s seats were directly opposite hongjoong and yunho’s, respectively. meaning that when you turn back to refocus on the matter at hand you instantly notice how hongjoong nervously looks away from you, suddenly finding the side of his co-hosts face extremely interesting.

“so, your latest mini album is called,” yunho begins, looking at the card in front of him to guarantee he doesn’t mispronounce it, “close orbit. this is the end of the orbit series in your concept right?”

nuri nods eagerly next to you before beginning their usual spiel about the members' roles in the creative direction of your group.

often times you’re deemed as the second in command, filling in the gaps your leader may miss, and therefore you’d like to think that you’re pretty good about turning on professional mode no matter the situation. however, from the corner of your eye you see hongjoong’s gaze flitting between you and nuri every few seconds and his behavior has begun to have you a bit nervous, fidgeting with one of the rings your stylist had given you that morning. you desperately try to pay attention to what nuri is talking about but, with the combination of the fact that you already know everything about what they’re saying and the heat that’s creeping up your neck as you try to push the thoughts of hongjoong’s behavior from your mind, you find your own thoughts wandering to hongjoong and his weird behavior.

yunho calls your name suddenly, once nuri is finished, shifting your attention back to the interview at hand and beginning to talk about your involvement in eclipse, aside from simply being a member of the group.

you try not to flick your gaze over to hongjoong too often, who now seems to find the cards he’s surely read over several times before intensely interesting, as yunho acknowledges your skills as main dancer and notes for the audience how involved you are in your group’s choreographic process, which already has a warmth blooming in your chest as you’re aware he’s the main dancer of his own group and you always find recognition from other group’s dancers to feel extra special, but the warmth is quickly transferred to your cheeks only a moment later.

��it’s kind of funny,” yunho starts and you tilt your head in interest as he peaks over to his co-host, “you’re hongjoong’s bias.”

from the look that takes over hongjoong’s face, a mix of shock and embarrassment, and the way he turns quickly to look at yunho with slight anger, you assume that this fact was supposed to stay secret, although you’re partly thankful that you have a seemingly good explanation for why hongjoong hadn’t been able to look away from you since you stepped into the studio.

you’re sure your own shocked expression comes over your face before you’re schooling it quickly, although you hear your maknae, star, sat right next to you, snickering softly under their hand, and you shoot star a quick side eye that seems to remove the humor from the situation for them.

“uh, thank you,” you say with a bow as low as the table in front of you allows, “it means a lot to hear that from a senior like you. thank you for your support.”

“of course,” hongjoong speaks suddenly, mirroring your bow as much as he can before stuttering out a statement about how you’re “so inspiring” and “light up the stage”. his face is getting redder by the second as he digs himself further into a hole but you can feel that your face is heating to match his own.

yunho seems to sense the way he’s pushed the interview off the rails and interrupts to bring attention back to your group entirely and your comeback.

through the next few minutes of the show, you’re noticeably and uncharacteristically distant as you now find yourself to have almost traded positions with hongjoong, subtly staring at him as much as you can manage without drawing immediate attention from your fans or members.

in opposition, hongjoong had now taken to looking at pretty much anything that wasn’t you after yunho had shared his little secret. unfortunately, maybe fortunately, you found that you can barely tear your gaze from the blue haired man across the table.

you were obviously a fan of ateez, being able to appreciate a lot of aspects about their talents and skills, but you’d never really gotten too much into the members themselves, aside from knowing who was who and what they each did. you found that as an idol yourself it could feel weird to try acting like a normal fan of a group, making you almost hyper aware of your own fans and their habits as you would try to focus on just one video that wasn’t related directly to the group’s music or performance.

this had meant that you had no ateez bias, although you knew a decent amount about the members, but now you’re rethinking your whole ideas of being a fan as an idol.

as you think to yourself, you attempt to rationalize the past few minutes, assuming that yunho was just joking around, trying to make fun of his hyung or maybe meaning something different from what your group’s fans meant when they said they biased you. however, every time you’ve managed to start convincing yourself, you’re just reminded of hongjoong’s reaction in the moment his member had said something.

your spiraling thoughts are only serving to distract you and suddenly, feeling a hand on your shoulder to bring you back to reality, you realize that they had started playing one of the songs from your album, letting you and your members grab snacks and wave to the fans through the window. the member with their hand on your shoulder, one of your best friends in the group, eunjae, looks at you with a mix of worry and bemusement, although you hear the slight smirk they wear in their voice as they ask if you’re okay.

you wave eunjae off before you head over to the window, not feeling particularly hungry, and hope that maybe seeing your fans will help to ground you, just as they always do.

as you’re waving through the window at several people with headbands of your and your member’s names you feel a presence beside you, much larger than any of your members. you turn to find yunho near you, not crowding you but obviously intentionally in your space, most likely to draw your attention without suspicion.

“sorry about that,” he says as you turn to him and he gestures toward the snack cart closer to the corner.

you know what he’s doing, trying to make it seem like you two are just talking about the food so as to not make fans question your interaction and so you follow him to the snack cart as you ask, trying not to show any of the question on your face, “about what?”

“making you uncomfortable,” he supplies. “hongjoong had asked me not to say anything but i didn’t think about the fact that he may have been asking that for your comfort rather than his own” yunho says in barely a whisper and you can see a light blush dusting his cheeks.

you’re thankful that your members had basically switched with you, greeting fans after clearing away from the snacks.

“don’t worry,” you reassure. “i'm not uncomfortable, it was more shocking than anything” you tell him, and as you say it you realize it’s the truth.

as an idol you often have to sacrifice your comfort for others but in this moment you aren’t saying it out of necessity but as the truth, and when you glance behind you at hongjoong, who’s intently avoiding all of your members as he also waves to the atiny that are mixed in with your fans, you feel something sparkle in the pit of your stomach. it’s a pleasant feeling, something reminiscent of admiration but more complex, deeper.

you’re not afraid to admit to yourself that hongjoong is attractive, undeniably handsome and, from everything you’d heard, genuinely nice to those around him. you could admire him as a leader and creative, knowing how much responsibility he had and that he still managed to enjoy what he did, but, with both of you working in the industry, dating could be next to impossible.

in all honesty, you’re not sure the last time you’d even had time to explore any sort of romantic interest in anyone, and maybe you were simply deprived of that experience so your brain was running wild with even the slightest exploration of thought. however your company had no dating ban and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to venture into that side of a normal life.

bringing you back to the present moment, yunho lets out a heavy breath and hands you a random piece of candy off the cart that you accept with a slight bow, convincing everyone that might be watching that you were talking about the snacks the whole time.

soon after your interaction concludes, everyone is quick to gather back around the table, taking your seats as your song fades out in the background. the next segment goes smoothly, yunho and hongjoong leading your group in a little game about how much your members know each other.

throughout the game you can’t help but sneak glances at hongjoong, your mind still working through the thoughts you’d had during the break. he appears to be trying hard to not notice you looking at him, but he manages to slip up occasionally and you try to send him a warm, if not slightly teasing, grin each time your eyes connect.

though your original intention with the gesture wasn’t to fluster the man, you find the way he reacts each time to be endearing, the blush returning to his cheeks and even starting to spread up to his ears. every time your gazes meet you feel that same tingle in your stomach begin to spread up to your chest, his expression each time feeding it, and you start to find a bit of comfort in that sensation as you feel like you’re getting to admire hongjoong who you’d been avoiding at the beginning of the show.

you’re starting to have a bit too much fun with this little game you made for yourself when yunho introduces another one of the songs from your group’s album and it starts to fade in, bringing an end to your antics.

this time, as the break starts, you intentionally take a moment before standing, pretending to stretch in your seat and standing slowly as you see hongjoong moving toward the fans out of the corner of your eye. you, as subtly as you can, move toward the fans and in the general direction of hongjoong, trying to get the opportunity to talk to him since he had been shying away from speaking to you ever since yunho’s little slip up. he seems too distracted by an atiny that’s mouthing something to him through the window to notice how close you manage to get.

once you’re sufficiently within speaking range, but not too close, always careful of fan suspicion when you’re in the presence of other idols, you try to casually greet him with a simple “hi” but you’re unprepared for the way he quickly flips around to face you, looking almost like a deer in headlights.

you’re both a bit stuck, just staring at each other before you hear a very obvious fake cough coming from both yunho and nuri that seems to snap you out of it and you each try to play it off with giggles and laughs, mostly for the camera and fans that had been intently tuned in to the strange interaction between the two of you.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” you say as you move toward the window, pretending like it had been your intention the whole time to simply say hi to fans once again.

“oh no, uhm, i’m sorry, i don’t know why i reacted like that,” he answers shakily with a nervous chuckle and turns back to the fans as well.

for a moment you both just wave out at the fans, genuinely finding interest in those that had come to support you. after what you deem to be enough time of interaction you finally speak up.

“i’m not uncomfortable, by the way,” you mention casually, hoping hongjoong understands what you mean.

“oh, really?” he sound’s surprised, and you peak out of the corner of your eye to see that he’s trying to hold back the surprise from showing on his face.

“yeah,” you admit. “i’m actually flattered,” you add, turning to hongjoong with a soft smile before you move to the snack cart.

you miss the way his shoulders seem to visibly relax and the grin that spreads onto his face as you leave. fan’s will chalk it up to the fact that he was relieved to be a further distance from you, hongjoong being know to keep his space from the idols that come on as guests, but yunho is quick to spot that it looks more like the expression his captain wears after a satisfying performance or successful interview.

your break is quick to wrap up after that, this song being shorter than the one they’d played earlier, and you’re all back to your seats. you start to readjust in your seat, getting comfortable for the next portion of the show, until you’re passed a head mic and remember that you’re going to teach, along with another one of your members, insoo, yunho and hongjoong the point choreography from your title track.

you’re excited to be back in your element, almost forgetting everything that had happened with hongjoong as you and your member run through the choreography to demonstrate before you’ll teach the boys.

the choreography is nothing too difficult, as your company is always sure to remind you that easier point choreo is more marketable, but it involves a great deal of interaction between you and your member, them starting the section standing directly in front of you, and you manipulate them until they have to squat in front of you.

yunho is quick to decide that he will do your part, claiming that because you’re both main dancers it makes sense as well as sighting the height difference, although the height difference between you and insoo is almost negligible compared to yunho and hongjoong’s height difference, but hongjoong doesn’t put up a fight, the gaze he’d had on you at the beginning of the schedule returning with a different undertone, one you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

the choreography wasn’t particularly sexy, your group not one to lean too heavily into those kinds of concepts, but it was certainly powerful and this particular song made you feel confident, considering you got to be center for the point.

you blame hongjoong’s shift on your own perception, but his gaze certainly reignites the buzz in your stomach, now fully formed into butterflies whose wings brush against the inside of your ribs, longing to be released.

you try to shake it off and step into teaching mode, familiar comfort seeping into you as you take on the most usual role for yourself. you quickly teach yunho your part, and as expected he catches on quickly, and insoo tries to demonstrate what hongjoong should do as best they can, although their part is hard to describe as insoo often goes off of your energy and cues.

when he stumbles out of the ending squat to fall on his butt all three of you that are standing are quick to rush over to him but he just chuckles in slight embarrassment before picking himself up and you all laugh together.

“hm what about you try it with him and i can do it with yunho,” insoo suggests quickly, looking like they just thought of the best solution to hongjoong’s learning difficulties.

you’re a little surprised but agree nonetheless as yunho adds that he’s sure his hyung would be fine with that, but once hongjoong is standing right in front of you it’s not so much hongjoong you’re worried about.

you try to back up a bit, trying to give yourself a bit of distance between you two, but are quick to realize that the choreography won’t work if you’re any further apart and so just as you take a step toward the man in front of you he also takes one into you, realizing that you had both started to get too close to the table now behind him.

your hands are quick to come up to his chest before you can fully fall into him and you jump back as quickly as you can, pulling your hands away as though he burned you.

the same look of shock as when you’d come up behind him during the break is present on hongjoong’s face, and he’s glad there are no cameras that face him right now to see it, but all you can pay attention to is the warmth that you had felt on your palms at the contact between you two.

the whole interaction had felt to you like it was minutes long but in reality it was barely a couple seconds, and you’re once again trying to slip back into the dance teacher role as well as you can when you’re so acutely aware of how close hongjoong is to you in this moment. you can just smell the fading cologne he’d applied earlier in the day, a mix of linen and leather that feels like it turns your brain to mush as you try to remember what you were supposed to be doing with him standing in front of you like this in the first place.

his surprise melts to a look of concern as he sees you shake your head, hoping to clear your thoughts as though they were being physically blocked by all your senses screaming hongjoong.

“so you start like this,” you supply quickly, trying to ignore the way hongjoong won’t drop the worried expression from his face.

you need to move quickly, the man in front of you is starting to make you feel dizzy and you aren’t sure your company, or your members, would enjoy you passing out for seemingly no reason while on a live program.

normally when you dance this part, you make full contact with your member but you can’t bring yourself to touch hongjoong completely, partially fearing you won’t want to let go once you do. instead you ghost your hands along the places you might normally drag them and float over the places you might normally grab.

as you move him slowly into the final positioning you’re realizing that it may have been more torturous to avoid touching him then to just give in to your desire to connect with him, every time your skin makes the lightest contact sending a jolt up through your arms and your breath catching in your throat, if for a moment.

“so that’s it,” you nod, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel and hongjoong looks up at you almost expectantly. you’re waiting for him to move, looking back down at him, and you feel his gaze almost peering through you, like he can see every deep breath you’re taking to try to calm your heart, like he knows exactly how you’ve felt for the past few minutes as you tried to teach him the movement, like he knows exactly what he does to you.

it’s kind of funny how you could feel so small compared to a man that you’re currently looking down on but it’s kim hongjoong who’s looking back up at you, in your clouded brain it seems to make sense.

you’re not sure who speaks up but you hear yunho and insoo moving next to you, although the dull ringing in your ears hasn’t fully subsided. you feel yourself, as though in a daze, move away from hongjoong, something you’re not actually sure you even want to do but your body has decided for you.

as insoo reclaims their place in front of you, you’re suddenly aware of the fact that you’d had that entire encounter with hongjoong in front of, not just your friends, but your fans, your managers, and several live cameras. you feel redness creeping up to consume almost your entire face and you’re glad insoo is blocking you. they give you a slight look of concern and you just clear your throat, pushing the thoughts of hongjoong down until they meet the butterflies in the pit of your stomach, taking a breath to urge them to calm down as well.

the rest of idol radio seems to pass in a blur. you’re even more distant than when you were lost in your thoughts earlier, although this time it seems as though your mind is absolutely blank. if you had wanted it to shut up before, now you’re wishing for it to just go, the image of hongjoong squatting in front of you the only thing you can seem to focus on.

you don’t fully come back to your senses until you’re sat in the car that’s set to take you, and your members, back to your dorm, your schedules for the day complete, and although you thought that distance may have aided your situation you were certainly wrong. your mind has taken to replaying the moment you’d shared with him over and over, not sparing a single detail and you feel as though you’re reliving the interaction again as you practically sense the heat radiating from his skin under your fingertips.

“are you, like, good?” star asks, placed once again right next to you. you look at them with what you hope is a convincing smile as you nod gently, before turning back to watch seoul pass in a blur through the window.

that night, you and your members, seven in total, gather to eat the takeout your manager had ordered as congratulations on a good day of promotions and suddenly you feel several pairs of eyes on you.

“what?” you ask, looking between all the members that weren’t currently too focused on their food.

“what was that between you and hongjoong?” insoo asks with a smirk, noddles almost forgotten on their plate.

“what was what?” you ask, trying to will the blush that creeps up your neck away.

insoo rolls their eyes in response, seeing right through your act and very clearly remembering what they had seen when they were stood right in front of you.

“y/n’s crushing on hongjoong,” star sings cheerily before someone’s foot, likely eunjae’s, makes contact with their shin under the table and they hiss.

you scoff at the statement, trying to play dumb to the way all your members were clearly seeing through you. “i do not,” you state indignantly, taking a big bite of your food as you glare at star.

“whatever you say,” star shrugs, a teasing smirk on their face.

luckily the conversation is quick to shift away from you and you’re able to enjoy your meal without any more interrogation.

later that night, as you prepare for bed, you hear a gentle knock on your bedroom door and open it to find nuri.

“hey, what’s up?” you ask, noticing they’re already dressed for bed.

“here,” they say, holding a piece of paper out which you take from their hand with some hesitancy.

“thanks?” you state, although it’s more of a question as you wonder what’s on the slip of paper now in your possession.

“hongjoong’s kakao id,” they say with a nod toward the paper and you blush, clearing your throat quickly. “it’s fine to have a crush by the way,” they continue and your face only grows warmer. “i’d just appreciate it if you'd tell me if you end up dating. easier for me to help.”

you don’t say anything as you just nod your head in understanding, closing your door quickly and pressing your face into your hands in embarrassment.

you place the slip onto your desk, glad in moments like these that you got the only solo room, and debate about adding him. i mean, you hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to each other, but what could really be the worst that could happen?

you try not to think about how nuri got his id, wondering if maybe they already knew each other and praying they hadn’t asked him for it just for you today, as you add him on your kakaotalk, tossing around ideas of opening messages. eventually you settle on a simple “hi, this is y/n” and send it quickly before you can overthink.

you don’t expect a reply immediately, noting how late it is, but almost as soon as you lock your phone the screen is lighting up with a message back.

hongjoong: hi

hongjoong: i wasn’t sure you were actually going to text me

hongjoong: i mean i know you told me you weren’t uncomfortable but still

a smile stretches across your lips as you realize hongjoong gave his id to nuri to give to you specifically and you scold yourself for being so out of it that he couldn’t give it to you directly.

you: i meant it when i said i was flattered

you: it’s a huge compliment to be admired by someone like you

you try to err on the side of caution. maybe he just wanted to talk to you about work, music and dance, so you tried not to be too informal, ateez and hongjoong being your senior. although you did try to hint that you were interested past a professional, and even platonic, relationship, but it had certainly been a while since you’d flirted with anyone, outside of fan service.

hongjoong: i wanted to ask you something

you: ask away

hongjoong: we have a new song coming out soon and i wondered if you’d be interested in doing the dance challenge for it

hongjoong: with me

you could feel the butterflies awaken inside of you once more, excited at the prospect of being able to see him again and the fact that he asked you specifically about doing the challenge.

you: i’d love to

you: just text me

with your agreement you both wrap up the conversation, bidding each other good night, and you go to bed with your thoughts full of hongjoong and stomach full of butterflies.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the rest of your own promotional period flies by, successful and rewarding as the support from your fans results in several music show wins and lots of recognition from all over the world. the whole time you try to focus more on work than your recently budding friendship with the leader of ateez, but it’s hard when you find yourself just as excited to end your day and finally be able to message him as you do when you can see your fans or perform. your members have certainly noticed a change in your demeanor, eager to shut yourself in your room to be alone, and some fans have commented about how happy you’ve seemed lately. luckily, your interaction from idol radio is barely recognized, only a few of the usual shippers making theories about your or hongjoong’s behavior that other fans are quick to brush off as a reach.

hongjoong: happy last day of promotions! i hope your schedules go well today

he doesn’t normally text you in the morning but you’d been telling him the night before about it being your last day to promote your comeback and so you check the timestamp on the message to find it was sent around 3am, probably when he managed to actually get to bed considering he’d told you he was working in the studio on ateez’s next comeback.

you shoot him a thank you text back, doubting he’ll see it until he wakes up a little later in the day, and get ready to head out for your schedule.

you were performing on the show again today, a music show that one of hongjoong’s members, yeosang, was an mc on. you didn’t even think much of the fact as you arrived and got ready with your styling team, having interacted with yeosang as an mc during this promotional period already. although as you sat in the hair and makeup chair, ready for the usual routine, a light knock sounded against the door of your dressing room.

after a quick check that everyone was decent, nuri approached the door. you couldn’t see who was on the other side, nuri discussing something with them and bowing as you assume the other person handed them a plastic bag.

you were slightly confused, none of your members or staff having ordered delivery, as nuri closed the door, taking a peek into the plastic bag before heading in your direction.

“here,” they said as they placed the bag onto your lap and you gave them a questioning glance.

“what’s this?”

“from yeosang who said it’s from a friend,” they explain with a wink and you try not to blush at the implication.

nuri walks away without saying anything else and you glance into the bag, seeing a few of the snacks you’d mentioned craving to hongjoong just last night. you push around the items and find a little note, similar to that which had held his id on it, and open it in the bag to avoid suspicion from those around you.

i know how hard it can be to eat during schedules so i hope this can help. good luck today, text me when you win

you try to ignore the way your heart picks up at the thought of him caring this much for you but it’s hard when you know that you’re already so infatuated with him. his confidence in you and your group was also just so heartwarming, something that was certainly making you fall deeper for the man you’d so recently grown attached to.

you munch on the gift as your hair gets styled, a smile unable to leave your face as you debate texting him to thank him. unfortunately you don’t get a chance as you’re thrown into the whirlwind of performing and preparing for a potential encore stage, your group loving to do silly little things for starlight whenever you win.

of course, like most times, hongjoong is right and your group wins for the final time this comeback, celebrating on stage with your fans and members. throughout your encore, your mind drifts to hongjoong, how you can text him and celebrate together.

as soon as all of your members arrive to your dorm, shoes discarded in the entranceway and takeout being served on the table, there’s a sudden ring of the doorbell and half of you freeze. the other half continue on with their tasks as nuri offers to get the door, handing off the serving task to insoo who is more than happy to take responsibility.

“y/n!” nuri calls from the door only a moment later and a few of your members give you a confused look as you shrug and make your way to your leader.

“yeah?” you ask as you approach, turning the corner to see two bouquets, not too large but very beautiful, in nuri’s grasp, the front door closing as you assume the delivery driver leaves.

“this is for you,” nuri says with a grin and you don’t keep the surprise from your features as they hand you the smaller of the two pieces, noting that they are your favorite flowers and spotting the little card in the center.

y/n,

congratulations on your win today. you always look so beautiful when you dance.

hj <3

you don’t try to hide the blush that blooms over your cheeks, your mind hyper focused on the little heart at the end of the message, and turn to nuri.

“what does that one say?” you ask, gesturing to the other bouquet that contains a mix of flowers with your group’s official colors.

nuri turns the bunch to you so that you can read the card.

eclipse,

congratulations on a successful comeback,

ateez

you nod as you turn back to the flowers in your hands, nuri pushing past you to join the other members in the kitchen. you can hear them explain who the flowers are from and mentally thank nuri when they don’t mention your personal bunch.

you manage to sneak the flowers to your room before you head back out to the table for dinner, shooting hongjoong a picture and a quick thank you.

hongjoong: i’m glad you like them

hongjoong: and i meant it, you looked breathtaking today

you suppress your smile as you read his response, trying not to catch the attention of any of your members, but you glance up to see nuri looking at you with a knowing, if not approving, smile.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you’ve been following ateez a little more closely now, their newest comeback, bouncy, releasing just last week and doing amazingly on the charts. you’d been sending hongjoong little things like snacks, coffee, and meals to keep him motivated and show your support and he’d been showing his appreciation by sending you pictures of him eating or just selfies of him during schedules.

you were certain that your relationship was headed in a more romantic direction as you both became more bold in your texts. you’d also begun video calling when you were able, sometimes just doing your own things while you were on a call together.

you were eager to possibly try taking the next step and actually go out on a date but with ateez still in the midst of promotion you understood that hongjoong’s free time was limited. so you left it up to him, not pressuring hongjoong by asking him out or even alluding to wanting to date.

“do you know the challenge or do you want me to teach you?” hongjoong had asked one night when you were on video call.

he’d brought up your promise from months ago to do the challenge and you assured him that you were still interested.

“i mean i sort of know it just from watching it a bunch, but if you want to teach me i’m not opposed,” you said with a cheeky shrug and hongjoong grinned.

“i don’t have to teach you babe,” he says with a light chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine.

that was another thing that had started recently, the pet names. hongjoong had accidentally referred to you as “babe” over text one time, rushing to apologize when you had taken just a second too long to respond, but you assured him that you weren’t upset just trying to be able to actually think again when the name had short circuited your brain.

“fine,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “i want you to teach me,” you admit with a slight wine. “there, happy?”

he chuckles again with a nod and an “okay” before you’re setting up the best day for you to meet at the kq company building, having to end the call soon after so that he can actually get some sleep.

the next few days have you on edge as you anticipate being able to see hongjoong in person for the first time since your appearance on idol radio. you even plan your outfit a day in advance, feeling almost like you’re going on a first date as you ensure your hair and makeup are perfect.

“have fun,” nuri says with a knowing wink as you leave your dorm and you don’t give them your normal embarrassed look, too focused on the excitement of seeing hongjoong.

you arrive at the kq building right on time, a staff member greeting you in the lobby and taking you to the practice room where you’ll be doing the challenge. you’d seen this same room plenty before on video, ateez dance practices being one of the few contents you’d watched before getting to know hongjoong.

“he should be here in a second,” the staff says, glancing at her phone, and you nod with a grin.

“its fine,” you assure. “thank you.”

just as you start to observe the room a little more, looking around and comparing it to your own practice room, the door opens and hongjoong enters.

even though you’d seen him on your screen almost everyday for the past week, nothing can compare to the way he looks in person, especially since he’d changed his look. atiny had been going crazy over his newly silver hair and you were no different, texting him how much you loved it as soon as you found out.

“hi,” he says with a smile as soon as he spots you.

you reach out your hand and repeat his greeting, bowing as you shake hands to imitate a sense of formality in front of the staff member.

you don’t want to let go of his hand but you pull away anyway, taking a step back to put some distance between you two and hoping to calm the urge that bubbles in your chest to take him into your arms.

“so, would you like for me to teach you the challenge?” he asks and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop the laugh that builds in your throat at the question, knowing you’d already asked him to teach it to you a few days ago.

“yes please,” you nod and hongjoong gestures so that you can move toward the mirror.

honestly, the choreography is pretty easy to pick up, especially since you’ve watched it so many times already, but you relish in the way hongjoong watches you and decide to just mess around with him a little. it couldn’t hurt to ask a few questions you already knew the answer to right?

“so, is it here or out here?” you ask with an innocent quirk of your brow, placing your left hand out, palm flat and moving it back and forth between two positions.

you see hongjoong’s eyes narrow just slightly, as he had clearly seen you get it right the first time, and you know he’s picking up on your little game. his eyes flick to the staff member in the room, noting that she’s on her phone in the corner, looking away, before he takes a step toward you.

instead of just answering your question he reaches around you, keeping his body on your right and wrapping his left arm around your back to grasp your elbow. he moves your arm into the proper place and you feel his other hand place itself on your waist. as you try to focus on anything but the way his fingers press into your skin he leans his head down slightly, enough so that you can feel his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear and across your cheek.

his proximity has your heart pounding and you almost hope he can hear it, wanting him to know that what he’s doing is working. you want him to know that this is exactly what you wanted, that you wish this is how close you could have him all the time.

“right here,” he says, barely a whisper, and just as you start to lean into him, longing to be completely consumed by his warmth, he steps away and his presence is replaced by the cool air that blows through the vent above you.

you clear your throat as you try to shake away the lingering warmth his touch left against your skin and slow your heartbeat as you go back to rehearsing the movements, for real this time.

you try to ignore the smirk that paints his face as he watches you practicing, a blush painting your own cheeks that starts to match his the longer he stares.

“okay, i think i got it,” you say after a few more rounds of practice. “what do you want to do for the outro?” you ask. “or do you just want to end it after the ‘fly’?”

you turn to hongjoong who looks around the room in thought.

“we could do the ending pose from moonbeam,” he suggests, referring to the title track you’d been promoting on idol radio, and you’re taken aback for a moment.

you’re not so much shocked that he would suggest something to do with your group but that he would choose that pose specifically. it would normally involve you and eclipse’s main vocalist, gam, standing while everyone else sat around you, leaning on each other. you and gam would be staring just past each other as your right arms were tangled in front of you in a sort of love shot position.

“oh, sure,” you say taking a moment to picture you and hongjoong in that position and your blush darkens. “i guess.”

“we don’t have to,” he says, sensing your hesitation. “we can do something else.”

you shake your head as you reassure him, “no, no, it’s fine.”

hongjoong just nods and you run through the challenge once more, practicing the final pose as well and trying to not let the proximity that the pose forces you into affect your face, of course you have no control over how it affects your heart and mind.

“great,” he says, mostly to himself, before calling over the staff member who directs you where to stand and prepares the shot.

the shooting of the challenge itself goes well, you both switching easily into professional mode even if you can see his eyes watching you through the mirror the whole time. you do a few takes, allowing the company to pick whichever they deem best, before you’re done and thanking hongjoong and the staff member for their time.

“oh,” hongjoong perks up before you can begin to head out. “i got you a thank you gift for doing the challenge but i left it in my studio.” he turns to the staff member and asks, “would you mind going to grab it?”

she nods before making her way out of the room, leaving you and hongjoong alone.

your eyes follow her as she leaves but before you can even turn back to hongjoong he’s pulled you into a hug, arms wrapped securely around your waist as he looks into your eyes.

“hi,” he greets with a chuckle, absolutely beaming as you snake your hands around his shoulders.

you giggle in response, your expression mirroring his own, as you finally get to see him how you wish you had for the entire time you’d been in his presence.

“i’ve been waiting to do this for the last half hour,” he says, practically reading your mind.

“so do you actually have a thank you gift or was that just an excuse?” you ask with a tick of your head to the door where the staff member had disappeared.

he looks almost offended as you ask, a humorous disbelief shining in his eyes. “of course i have a gift,” he says and you can hear a slight whine lacing his tone.

“of course,” you say with a chuckle and a shake of your head.

“i would’ve invited you to lunch but the staff would’ve been suspicious,” he adds, “so this is the next best option.”

“i can feed myself you know,” you joke, truly more than happy to have hongjoong buy you meals.

“not if i can help it,” he insists, wrapping his arms tighter and pulling you closer.

you don’t fight against him, your chests now pressed together as you simply wade in the comfort that surrounds you both.

you debate about leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek, wanting to feel the soft skin against your lips, but you don’t. instead you let your cheek fall to his shoulder, resting your head against him and letting the scent of his cologne wash over you.

“what are you doing tomorrow?” hongjoong asks, one of his hands starting to trace along your spine, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“mm,” you hum in thought as you try to remember your schedule. “we have shooting until five and then eunjae wants to watch a new movie,” you say before lifting your head from his shoulder. “why?”

he lets out a breath and his hand comes to a stop on your back, both of his hands gently holding either side of your waist. the smile he gives you seems nervous now, not quite reaching his eyes.

“i wanted to ask if you’d like to get dinner with me tomorrow night,” he explains with a gentle squeeze of your hips. “but if you’re busy we can do it a different night.”

you shake your head quickly, face red and smile as wide as your lips can manage. “eunjae can wait one more day for that movie,” you giggle and watch as his own smile grows.

his hands move from your waist and you start to pull your own arms away when his palms are suddenly on your cheeks, holding your face, and your own hands fly up to cup his. neither of you speak as you glide your hands down to wrap your fingers around his wrist gently, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as his eyes flick between your own.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, trying to see any form of discomfort that might appear on your expression.

“yes,” you respond and before you even finish he’s bringing you into him, lips pressing against your own as softly as he can.

it barely lasts a second before he’s pulling away, his eyes once again searching your own for any hint as to how you’re feeling.

“again?” he asks with a smirk when he notices your lips still puckered and chasing his.

he doesn’t wait for your response this time, diving back into you with an eagerness that challenges your own.

his lips move in sync with yours, one of his hands shifting to the side of your neck and the pads of his fingers pressing into the skin there, sending a shiver down your spine that you're sure he notices by the way you feel him smile against your lips. hongjoong hums gently, the sound vibrating from his own chest to yours and causing you to melt into him further.

you try to pour all of your appreciation for him into the kiss, desperately grasping onto his biceps like he might just vanish at any moment. you hope that he can understand just what you’re trying to tell him, that in this moment, and every moment you’ve shared, he’s made you feel normal. when you were with him, talking to him, you weren’t an idol and neither was he, you were both just you, human and flawed, and in love.

he pulls away after a moment more, placing a few light pecks against your lips before separating completely, and you try to chase his lips again but his hold on your cheek keeps you in place. instead, he presses his forehead against your own, eyes closed as he focuses on steadying his breathing while you flit your gaze around his face, trying to commit each feature to memory.

after what feels like an hour of just existing in the comfortable silence that has engulfed you both, hongjoong pulls away from you, his eyes opening slowly as his hands return to your waist, your own grip on his arms loosening.

“so tomorrow?” he asks, biting his lip before you bring your thumb up to pull the flesh from between his teeth and he places a gentle peck against your finger.

“it’s a date,” you confirm, leaning in to place a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth.

he smiles and says, “i’ll text you,” before he takes a few steps back, forcing you both to separate and you immediately miss him even though he’s still stood right in front of you.

only a moment later the staff member from earlier is stepping back into the room, carrying a bag of your favorite delivery food and making a beeline to you.

you bow in thanks when she hands it to you before doing the same to hongjoong, showing your formal appreciation for the gesture, and the staff member is offering to guide you out of the building.

you’re quick to bid hongjoong goodbye, worrying that you might never leave him unless you go now, and the staff leads you back out the way you came in.

as soon as you make it back to your dorm you feel your phone buzz in your pocket, a text from hongjoong lighting up the screen.

hj<3: can i officially say i’m dating my bias?

↼ ateez masterlist

note this started as delusional texts in the group chat based on the specific instagram photos in the header and turned into this

tell me your thoughts

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bunnysdollette · 3 months ago

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₊⊹⁀➴ How to get real revenge ⟡﹒⪩⪨ 🎀

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧ Hey angels 👼, I know we all have people we dislike/want to get revenge on. Anyway, I’ll show you how to inflict REAL revenge in a more mature and long lasting manner. my whole bloodline is full of D1 elite demons, so it runs in the family. TRUST if you listen to this, your haters will be shook.

♫ bigger in texas, megan thee stallion

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ MOVE ON, CHOOSE PEACE! 👛 ⊹₊⟡⋆

anyways, anything that happened in the past, you have to learn to let go. . 🧘🏽‍♀️ the only direction you can go in is forward, you can’t change what happened or change what’s going to happen. dead it, stressing over the past is not cute.

you’re gonna have haters, ur gonna have people that don’t like u. that’s inevitable, that’s normal. if people aren’t mad at you then you should be going HARDER, their anger and animosity towards you is PROJECTION, you know you’ve made it when you can piss people off even without trying to.

like okay this person did you wrong, so what? are u gonna continue being obsessed over them and the situation and doing petty shit to them letting all this unnecessary baggage drag YOU and your prized energy, emotions, and time down or just level up and be better. be the one that got away and got your mfkin life away. . 📝baby, wtf do you look like staying stuck over something in the past? over something that doesn’t serve you anymore, over something that’s not relevant?

no.. YOU who WILL do BIG, life changing things, can not let the smallest things take them off your path. always choose peace, there is nothing healing about revenge.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ THE ONLY OPTION IS WINNING. YOUR SUCCESS WILL BE THE NOISE ⊹₊⟡⋆

okay so now that we’re plotting our revenge, know that the only real revenge is being successful even after all that that person/situation put you thru. your success will be the revenge to them and it will literally wake up all of their demons and rage to know that you won the idgaf war and they couldn’t even come close to comparing to you. 🥱

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ HOW TO AACTUALLYY GET BACK AT YOUR ENEMIES, A STEP BY STEP GUIDE ⊹₊⟡⋆

DONT speak on them or the situation, EVER again. especially in public. nobody should be under the impression that you’re still obsessing over this situation, because you shouldn’t be.

Recognize that actual petty acts of revenge is NOT the kind of behavior you want to adopt. It only causes more harm in the long run and isn’t going to help you heal or feel peace after what happened to you.

Reflect and refocus on what’s actually important in your life. For many of this this is school, family, mental wellness. This can also be chasing after your other goals too. You shouldn’t even feel the need to be loud about doing all these things to feel external validation for others; let these little moments where your success shines through be the noise that is TRUE revenge to those who treated you badly.

I guarantee that staying consistent with these 3 little baby steps for a few weeks will make whoever you wanted on revenge on literally FUME with anger so that steam literally blows out of their ears whenever you’re mentioned. 💬

Why? Because you’ve inflicted the ACTUAL revenge on them; winning the idgaf war, being the one that continued winning even when they expected you to loose. save this, try it, come back to me with a success story later ! 🎀

🖊️-With love, BD

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delirious-donna · 1 year ago

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Morning Epiphany [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: cockwarming with Hiromi was suggested to me when I opened my requests/ideas for this wonderful man and I immediately leapt on it because YES!

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: cockwarming, reader being the teeniest bit mean to poor Hiro, whining and whimpering from the lawyer…

Masterlist

“Hiro… it’s so early, why are you in here?”

The sun had barely begun to crest, the earliest rays warming the bedspread that was surprisingly empty. A hand reaching out to your husband’s side confirmed the first stirring of your consciousness, he wasn’t here, and if he wasn’t here then there were only two places he could be.

Despite the lure of sleep trying to coax you back into the cozy haze of dreams, you couldn’t possibly sleep when your other half was missing, and so early too. The blinking lights of the alarm clock signalled the hour and helped to push your feet to the rug by the bed, stretching and pouting.

The bathroom was empty, there was no remnant of steam from the scalding hot showers he took every morning and you scowled at your dishevelled reflection in the mirror. Your hair stuck up at odd angles, eyes puffy from how quickly you got out of bed and your sleepshirt—an old well-worn sweatshirt of Hiromi’s—was creased beyond belief.

Your steps took you towards the office and the scent of freshly brewed coffee that wafted enticingly into your nose. The door creaked on antique hinges, your missing man turning with his brow furrowed from having his concentration broken. The expression shifted into a smile almost immediately, a sheepish smile at that.

“Did I wake you? I didn’t mean to,” he apologised sincerely, settling back in his chair to stretch his arms up and over his head. The wide sleeves of his black t-shirt, now faded to grey at best, pushed back and your eyes dipped to the hint of black happy trail that peeked from beneath the hem with a sigh of appreciation.

Hiromi couldn’t help but chuckle. Hastily he fixed his face with a look of admonishment, one sleek eyebrow rising near to his hairline. “Eyes up here, Mrs Higuruma.”

“Sorry—wait. Why am I apologising? It’s the arse crack of dawn, what are you doing up let alone working?”

His eyes drooped, nervously fidgeting with the pen on his desk.

Before he could respond, you grabbed the back of his chair and scooted it out further from the desk to his confusion. The lines wrinkling his forehead smoothed out when your knee bracketed his hip, followed by the other until you sat straddling his lap. Your fingers ran through the limp strands of the hair hanging near into his eyes, humming at the glorious warmth of his body melding into yours.

“Epiphany moment?” Hiromi offered uncertainly. He was too preoccupied by the soft squish of your hips and backside, hands full of the meat of you, and desperately trying to will his cock not to harden any further. To his disappointment and your triumph, he was failing miserably.

You planted teasing kisses to his jawline, barely-there touches of your lips until you were decorating his throat and prominent Adam’s apple with wet little marks. “Don’t let me stop you, Hiro… you can pretend I’m not here. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

He dropped his chin, staring at you with suspicious disbelief. Swallowing thickly when you offered your best most innocent looking smile, laying your cheek on his shoulders and drawing one of his hands away from where he was pawing at your rump. “Work, if that’s what you want to do.”

Hiromi groaned and looked skyward as if some answer would arrive if he begged for it hard enough. He knew this game well enough, and not once had he won. He didn’t fancy his odds on this particular day either.

It started out fairly uneventful. Hiromi managed to refocus his attention towards the computer screen and the ruling he had been in the middle of reading when you appeared, but soon enough the words no longer made sense. Your fingertips grazed his chest, delicate scrapes of your nails across the cotton hiding his nipples and it was maddeningly distracting.

Instead of calling it out, knowing it would only result in you doubling down your efforts, he exhaled through his nose and shifted in his seat to give some respite to the erection chafing the waistband of his pyjama trousers. Immediately, he knew it was the wrong move. Your pelvis sunk closer to him, rubbing more friction into his aching length and he swore he could smell your arousal hanging heavy in the air.

He did his best to ignore your naughty fingers moving between you, to pretend you weren’t pulling him free and playing in the mess of precum leaking from his tip. His fingers tightened around the mouse in his hand, the sound of plastic groaning from the onslaught of pressure enough to make him blink and loosen his hold.

“You will be the death of me, love.”

The loose fist around his shaft paused. “Keep working or I’ll go back to bed… alone.” You were slick with arousal, the lack of panties leaving a dark stain on the crotch of Hiromi’s pyjamas that didn’t go unnoticed by either of you. The temptation to lift to your knees and sink down onto his cock was building, but you couldn’t reward him so readily for his leaving you in bed this morning. Not until he was a little more desperate, and by the hue of the rash at his neck and dappling of his cheeks, there was still a little ways to go.

Hiromi was failing fast, and he knew you were waiting to pounce and worsen his predicament. Worsen was hardly the right term given how eager he was to be swallowed by your plush velvet-lined walls, but since you were insistent that he continue to work, he wasn’t going to be rewarded until he did. The pen scratched across the surface of his notepad, the ink drying in shaky lines whilst you cupped his balls and rolled them between your fingers and thumb. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what he was writing made sense but if it gave the illusion of cooperation, he’d write utter gibberish all day long.

You held out as long as you could manage, the burning desire palpable on the dewy apples of your cheek and the heat of your breasts hidden beneath your husband’s sweatshirt. At long last you teased his pulsing cock between your folds, tapping the sticky cockhead against your pert little clit and finally lining him up at your entrance. The muscles contracted around him, that first inch a delicious stretch that pushed you to your limits not to slam right down to his fat balls and cry out from the bliss.

The descent was drawn out, testing your patience and resolve to the limits, as well as forcing stuttering breaths out of Hiromi’s heaving chest. You didn’t chastise the return of his hands, the adoration sweeping through his palms as they raised the hem of your sweatshirt so he could see himself disappearing into your pussy. He fisted the fabric, grasping at your hips with eyes heavy with lust and you simply had to taste him, even only for a moment.

Your lips crashed atop his, tongue licking over the seam of his bottom lip and pressing into his mouth to swallow the whine that crawled from his throat. It echoed inside your head, the urge to roll your hips over and over until he filled your belly with his seed burned like a white-hot flame. Your skin itched, fingers curled into claws that dove into Hiromi’s thick head of hair and you nearly didn’t break your kiss, nearly were consumed by the passion you felt in your heart.

“Hmmmpff.” Hiromi wailed when you finally came to some semblance of your senses, your pelvis flush against his but no longer moving. He stared at you in longing, watching whilst you swiped a finger over your kiss-swollen lips and sucked the remnants of his spit from the pad. The smile you offered was purely saccharine, and his throat itched with the need to bounce you on his cock until you gushed all over him and the chair.

“Please?” He asked on a whisper, aquiline nose nudging into your cheek.

“You have your epiphany moment to deal with mister lawyer, c’mon… you can last a little longer. Let me warm you and once I’m satisfied, I’ll ride you until your legs want to give out,” you purred, mouth at the shell of his ear and leaving a kiss at the bone just behind.

Silently, he begged and pleaded for mercy on his tainted soul, as if some divine intervention was likely to intercept, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. You were the only divine deity in his world and your determination to give him a taste of his own medicine for abandoning the sacred ritual of morning cuddles was written across your features.

A sweat broke out across his brow as he studied the lines of text on the screen without recognising a single word. A drip of arousal dribbled from the spot you united, dribbling over the seam of his balls to stain the leather seat beneath. You clenched, and he crushed the pen in his hand, palm filled with tiny plastic shards that speared his skin.

“Darling… light of my life—I will do anything, anything, if you’ll just ride me,” he whimpered, discarding the busted pen and grabbing up your hands to kiss earnestly across your fingertips then knuckles. Hiromi was barely restraining the buck of his hips, the warmth almost too much wrapped around his dick but without the friction and rhythm of movement… it wasn’t enough.

Your resolve was being tested once more. The subtle wobble of his lower lip and the sincere longing in his whisky-smoked eyes cracked the shell of your conviction. Easing forward in one languid roll of your hips earned you the most delightful and pitiful whimper you had heard in a long time. His head fell back against the headrest of his chair, eyes screwed shut whilst you felt him twitch within your walls. He might just cum like this if you didn’t do something, and actually, you wouldn’t mind that in the slightest.

Never more had you enjoyed cockwarming Hiromi than at this moment, and you vowed to draw it out as long as he could endure.

“Fuck, Hiro… you feel so good. So warm and snug,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into him more. “Five more minutes…”

#delirious writes #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma smut #hiromi smut #higuruma hiromi smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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thegardenofbae · 4 months ago

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Creating a vision board is an exciting first step toward manifesting the life you want. But let’s get real—slapping a bunch of aesthetic pictures on your screen isn’t enough to make your dream life appear out of thin air. A vision board isn’t magic; it’s a system. It’s how you organize your desires, clarify your goals, and give yourself a daily reminder of the future you’re working toward. So, how do you make your digital vision board come true? Let’s break it down.

Understand the purpose of a vision board

Your vision board isn’t just “cute inspo”; it’s a filter for your thoughts. Think of it as a GPS for your goals. Every image, quote, or word on it represents something you want to feel, achieve, or embody. Take time to really think about what those things mean to you. Do you want more peace? Financial freedom? Confidence? Success? What does that look like specifically for you?

Use it as a daily reminder

Make your vision board visible everywhere. Your phone background, your laptop screensaver, even as a pinned note in your Notion or Pinterest account. Every time you glance at it, ask yourself:

“Am I making choices that align with this vision?”

“How can I take one small step today toward this goal?”

Break it down into achievable micro-actions

A vision board helps you see the big picture, but success comes from small, consistent actions. Look at your board and reverse-engineer each goal.

Want financial freedom? Start tracking your expenses or saving $10 a week.

Dreaming of a life filled with more romance and whimsy? Plan a solo museum day or start journaling by candlelight.

Visualizing health and fitness? Swap one sugary snack for a fruit every day.

When it’s broken down like this, it doesn’t seem so daunting, but it makes a significant difference. Each micro-action is a brick in the foundation of the life you dream of.

Create a plan of execution

A vision board without action is just a pretty picture. Pair your board with a system for execution. I love tools like:

Notion or Google Calendar: For setting deadlines and organizing goals.

Habit trackers: To build daily habits that reflect your vision.

Monthly check-ins: Sit down with your vision board and assess where you’re thriving and where you need to refocus.

Cultivate a mindset to match

The person who achieves your vision is already inside of you—but it takes intention to bring them to the surface. This means:

Being kind to yourself.

Building discipline, even when motivation fades.

Letting go of limiting beliefs that tell you it’s “too hard” or “too late.”

Your vision board is a reflection of your best self. Start showing up as them today.

Celebrate Small Wins

Every time you achieve even a small goal from your board, celebrate! Gratitude and celebration keep you motivated and signal to your brain that this new life is worth fighting for.

Your vision board isn’t just about manifesting—it’s about moving with intention. Dream big, work small, and remember that every time you glance at your phone or open your laptop, you’re being reminded of the life you’re creating.

#the garden of bae #♡ bae the insider #bae’s random thoughts #bae’s guides #new years resolution #happy new year ✨#goal achievement #black girls in wellness #wellnessjourney #self care #becoming that girl the series #it girl #project it girl

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usagiumiko3 · 10 months ago

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Intense reflections

˗ˏˋ Sylus has a thing for your red lipstick ˎˊ˗

Sylus × Reader

Love and Deepspace

Words: 2,325

tw: just kissing, touching and sexuala tension (・ω<)

ao3

Sitting at your vanity table, you carefully apply your deep red lipstick. In the reflection of the mirror, you could see Sylus sitting on the bed, his eyes fixed on you with intense focus.

His gaze devours you and it makes you feel nervous, knowing that every movement of yours was being observed and savored by his blood red eyes. The way he looked at you was like an aphrodisiac to him, evident in the dilation of his pupils. They were intense and all consuming, taking in every shift of your body and every brush of your hand against your lips. The way he looked at you made you feel both exhilarated and nervous, as if he was under a spell.

You try to will your body to ignore his overwhelming presence, but your hand betrays you with its trembling. Nervousness consumes you, causing your heart to quicken and your breath to catch in your throat. The weight of his gaze feels heavy on your skin as you struggle to keep your composure.

As you gaze at your reflection in the mirror, you can't help but feel confident and beautiful. Tonight is a special event and Sylus has invited you to be by his side. He picked out a stunning dress, heels, and accessories for you, all according to his own taste. You couldn't complain even if you wanted to, because everything he chose is exquisite. You marvel at how he always manages to have such impeccable taste and give you gifts that take your breath away with their beauty and value.

You push away your thoughts and refocus on applying your lipstick. You part your lips slightly and glide the lipstick smoothly over them, feeling his intense gaze on you. After skillfully applying it with clean edges, you gently tap the middle of your lips to blend it in. As you focus on achieving an even application, you suddenly hear his deep rumbling voice.

"That color suits you well, sweetheart" he commented, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. You couldn't help but shiver slightly as his words washed over you.

You smile and continue to apply your lipstick, determined to get it perfect.

"You look especially stunning tonight" you hear his voice deepening even further, if that was even possible. "I can hardly contain myself until we arrive at the event."

You pause with your lipstick mid air as you glance at him in the mirror. “Pardon?”

He gives you a mischievous grin and for a moment, you could have sworn that his eyes were glowing with a deep red lust.

"You heard me, sweetheart. How many times do you think I can refrain myself from ravishing you in that beautiful dress?"

Slowly, he rises from the bed and approaches you from behind. You can sense his warmth as he stands close to your back. His fingertips trace a path down your shoulders and arms, sending an electric wave through your body. As he leans in close, his hot breath tickles your neck.

As you lift your eyes to meet his in the mirror, a jolt of adrenaline courses through your body. His strong, piercing gaze holds yours, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the intensity emanating from him, and it both intrigues and intimidates you. Your heart races as you try to keep your composure under his unwavering stare.

His voice, a low growl, whispers,"Have I told you just how beautiful you look tonight?…I can't seem to tear my eyes away from you, even for a moment..”

You can feel his lips brushing against your neck, causing you to swallow nervously. "I can see that..."

His lips travel down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. You feel his hot breath against your skin, sending tingles down your spine. He slowly takes your earlobe into his mouth, nipping it gently with his teeth.

“You should see yourself.. so beautiful and so deliciously tempting" he whispered between the kisses.

He reaches out and grabs your face, forcing you to look at him. His gaze travels over your features, focusing on your plump, red lips. A slight smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he considers you.

"You know what would be an exquisite accessory?" He says slowly, his voice low and tinged with a hint of mischief.

Staring into your eyes, his gaze filled with a fierce, almost primal desire, before his words slowly reach your ears. "A lipstick mark..made by you…"

"And where do you want it?"

He leans in, his face inching closer to yours as he takes in every detail of your features. With a gentle touch, he runs his thumb along your chin, observing your lips contour, before speaking again in a hushed tone.

"I want it right here.." He reaches up and taps his neck just below his left ear, his gaze never leaving your own, a silent request in his eyes.

"Are you sure? Because everyone at the event is going to see it.."

He grins, his eyes darkening slightly as he gazes at you, his hand still gently holding your face.

"That's exactly why I want it. So that every single person that looks at me tonight, knows that you're the one who put it there.."

As the tension between the two of you builds, the room seems to shrink, the only thing that matters is the desire that courses through you both. You realize that, for him, this is not just about the lipstick mark, it's about claiming him as your own, making sure that everyone who sees him will know that he is yours... and yours alone.

The certainty in his voice is undeniable, and you find yourself capitulating to his desire, knowing that you can't resist the pull of his unyielding gaze. As you lean in towards him, the room around you fades into the background, and you see only him, only this moment. Not as if you weren't already seeing only him.

His hand still caresses your face, guiding your lips towards the spot he had indicated. The soft texture of his neck meets the warm feeling of your coated lips.

The fragrance of his cologne mixes with the creamy texture of your lipstick. The touch of his hand on your nape grows firmer.

As you slowly pull away, you look back at his face and can observe his gaze shifting from the mirror back to your face. Was he looking at the moment through the mirror?

Sylus, however, seems to be lost in his own thoughts, a mix of satisfaction and desire in his eyes. A slow smirk appears on his face as he locks his gaze with yours, seemingly enjoying the sight of your slightly smudged lip.

He brings his hand up and slowly, gently, traces the outline of your lip with his thumb, his touch surprisingly tender in this moment.

"I have a proposition for you, sweetheart… I might be greedy.. I want more, but not in a place where everyone at the event can see..."

"The question is, are we still planning on attending that event?" you ask with a playful smile.

Sylus can't resist returning a grin, his gaze filled with mischief and desire. He leans in and pulls you closer to him, his arms encircling your waist as he speaks in a seductive tone.

"I don't think so ... not when there are much more... interesting activities at hand..”

Sylus doesn't waste any time. As soon as the words leave his lips, he grabs you and pulls you down onto the bed with him. He lands on his back, the impact of your body on top of his sending a thrill through his. He looks up at you with a sultry smile, his hands now roaming over your curves.

Sylus lays there, his shirt untucked from the impact, his chest lowering and raising in front of you. He looks up at you with a cocky smile on his face.

"Come on sweetheart, I know you can unbutton the shirt on your own... unless you want me to take this honor from you?”

You glance down at his chest, the muscles shifting beneath the fabric as he moves, and a fire ignites within you. With a fierce determination, you reach for the top button of his shirt and begin to unbutton it slowly. Each button undone, amplifying the tension between you two.

Sylus' eyes never leave your face as you continue to work on his shirt. The fabric slowly parts, revealing the smooth skin that lays beneath and the defined muscles.

You pause for a moment, your fingers hovering over his abdomen as you take a good look at the man beneath you.

A smirk playing at the corners of his mouth "Don't be shy … I know how badly you want to touch me..”

With a deep breath, you let your fingers trail lightly down Sylus' chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under your touch. You can feel his muscles flexing in response. His eyes, dark with desire, never leave yours.

Leaning in closer, you press your lips against his chest, just below his collarbone. The deep red lipstick leaves another mark against his pale skin.

You continue your journey, kissing a trail down his chest, leaving crimson marks as you go. Each kiss grows more insistent, more fervent. Sylus' hands are on your hips, his grip tightening with every press of your lips.

You move lower, feeling the tension build between you. His shirt is now fully open, exposing his sculpted torso to your eager mouth. You pause just above his navel, looking up at him through your lashes.

"How many more do you want, Sylus?" you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"As many as you can give" he replies, his voice husky with desire.

With a playful grin, you rise from the bed and make your way to the vanity. You lean over the table, making sure to showcase your curves as you touch up your lipstick. Turning back to face him, you saunter towards the bed where he sits up eagerly, his eyes dark. With a confident hand, you push him onto his back and he lets out a low groan of both frustration and satisfaction at your eagerness.

He looks up at you, a smirk dancing on his lips. "Don't get me too riled up, sweetheart ... I might not be able to hold myself back.." he murmurs.

Your lips move lower, gliding along the lines of his abdomen with a possessive touch. Each kiss leaves a mark of passion, branding him as yours. The heat from his body envelopes you, filling your senses with desire that rolls off him in intoxicating waves. As you reach the waistband of his trousers, you lift your gaze to meet his.

Sylus stares down at you, his hair framing his hooded eyes, that are a dark red now, filled with an almost feral hunger.

“Are you trying to tease me?”

As he grabs you by your waist, Sylus flips you onto your back with a swift, fluid motion. He hovers over you, his gaze intense and unwavering. He traces the marks you've left on his body with a reverent touch, his eyes filled with a mix of admiration and obsession.

His hands come on your body next, roaming as if trying to memorize every curve, every dip. Without hesitation he slides his hand under your dress, running his fingers over your hip.

"You've marked me enough, sweetheart " he says, his voice deep and rough. "Now it's my turn."

He leans over, his lips finding the sensitive spot beneath your ear. His kisses are slow and purposeful, each one sending tingles in your chest.

Sylus continues to explore your body with his hands following his lips, discovering every inch of you. His touch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, causing you to writhe and arch in response, craving for more. He pauses momentarily, his hands tracing the curves of your hips before he speaks, his voice heavy with desire.

“I will have you now”

Your breath hitches as his words send a surge of desire through you. You reach up and grab his face, pulling him down to meet your lips in a hungry kiss, meant to devour each other. The passion between you is undeniable, and you know that you are both ready to let go of everything else and just be in this moment.

Sylus breaks away from the kiss, his eyes burning with desire.

You open your eyes to look at him, but you can't hold back your giggles.

His expression turns serious. "What's so funny?”

“You have some lipstick on your lips... and around them…” you try to hold back another giggle.

As he registers your words, he runs his fingers over his lips. He looks down at his them and notices the red smudges. He frowns, trying to appear offended, but a grin involuntarily creeps onto his face.

"You're enjoying smudging me all with your lipstick, sweetheart?"

You simply smile and shrug, trying to play it cool. "I couldn't resist."

Sylus chuckles, the sound warm and deep. "You laugh about me sweetheart, but you don't see yourself right now…” he leans closer and talks with a deep rumbling tone, "You are not looking put together either”

With that, he leans down and presses his lips against yours, completely covering your lips with his. The kiss is slow and sensual, his tongue gently exploring your mouth as his hands begin to trace your body once more.

You can feel the passion building between you, and you know that there's no turning back now.

“Sylus“ you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

"What sweetheart?” He looks deeply into your eyes.

“Don't stop…” you beg, your voice barely audible.

A satisfied smile spreads across his face. “I wouldn't dream of it.”

I can make a part 2 if you guys want

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