#source: co workers

[incorrect-obeyme]

Belphie: Shut the hell up Mammon Mammon:…I didn’t say anything Solomon: But you were thinking

[sixcalibur]

My PTO for Ocotber got accepted which means I will be seeing Käärijä! 😭😭 I fully expected my boss to say no because I need two days off and I rarely get even one day off so.. this was a surprise

[trekkiepirate]

They also have/had a Gonzo plane. And if you can find a NOAA scientist in the wild, there is a non-zero chance there will be at least one sticker of the muppet art on their person at any given time.

Edit: Because I found my stickers

This is especially frustrating because the only reason we know the wind speed is because NOAA's Hurricane Hunters literally fly into the hurricane and collect vital data. They fly in and out of the storm over and over in 8 hour shifts.

This brave team flies two identical Lockheed P3s called Kermit and Miss Piggy.

You can see the dangling ornaments in the videos to determine which plane they are in.

And when I say they fly into the hurricane, I mean they fly *into* the hurricane.

Here they are in the eye of Milton.

And here they are in the eye of Irma.

As you may notice, this flight was in Kermit.

So the next time you see live data about a hurricane's wind speed and pressure, just remember how that was collected and don't be a giant turd about it.

And please vote because conservatives want to kill NOAA.

[suksatoru]

it takes you a handful of minutes before you notice satoru's head resting against your thigh. he's staring off into space. there's a barely noticeable pout on his lips that replaces his trademark grin, and he looks... dejected.

albeit a little clumsily, you slip out of your seat as quietly as you can and lower yourself onto the ground beside him. satoru perks up once he sees you next to him, and everyone else around you two converses noisily, oblivious to you two crouched under the table like little kids.

you give your boyfriend a curious tilt of your head, and he smiles sadly.

"hi there, pretty."

"hi. who are we hiding from?"

there's a flush to your cheeks that is entirely from the drinks you've had tonight. your eyes are a misty haze — and in your intoxicated state, you fail to notice satoru's thumb brush over the small, velvet box in his hand as he tucks it back into his pocket.

tonight had been the night satoru wanted to propose to you. he'd give himself at least a dozen pep talks between waking up and picking you up for your umpteenth date — then, he'd taken you to your favorite restaurant, a modest little place tucked into the outer edges of the city.

he thought it was perfect. despite all the extravagant things that came along with dating the satoru gojo, he wanted your proposal to be personal and special. just the two of you.

what he didn't expect was to run into all of your sorcerer friends and co-workers.

satoru supposes it is kind of his fault for not telling anyone about his plans to propose to you tonight. of course, he planned to tell everyone after you two were formally engaged, but he never considered the possibility that you two could run into others.

before he knew it, tables were being pushed together and chairs were being dragged around to make room for everyone else to join. shoko, suguru, and a few other of your co-workers had all finished up a late night mission and headed to the nearest restaurant — which inconveniently happened to be the one you and satoru were dining at.

"no one in particular," satoru finally says, trying his best to mask his disappointment with a dorky grin as he pokes your cheek.

you catch his hand, eyes squinting as you look closer at him.

"you look sad. is it because i ate your spinach dip?"

your boyfriend gasps, loudly and deeply offended by the accusation as you break out into a silly giggle, telling him to shush before everyone eating notices you two under the table.

"is food the only supposed source of my emotions?" satoru laughs, and you shrug with a slanted grin

"if the shoe fits."

"oh, you are asking for it, little miss—"

his hands find your sides, and you quickly cover your mouth to stifle your laughter as you squirm against him. eventually, shoko's head dips under the table, and her loud burst of laughter manages to distract satoru enough to allow you to pry yourself out of his grip.

"come on, satoru! you didn't even try the chocolate fudge cake yet. nanami accidentally ordered three, let's try and snag one to take home." you suggest with a grin, rising on wobbly legs from under the table and wiggling back into your seat as satoru follows

"ooo — quick! before utahime eats it all!"

his first attempt at proposing was a total fail. but, honestly, satoru can't even be mad. you had a great time tonight with him and all of your friends, so what's there to be disappointed about?

his next try will be better, he's sure of it. and maybeee somewhere on a remote island where the chances of running into anyone else was in the negatives.

in a few years, satoru's hopeful he'll be able to look back at this moment and laugh about it with you. so, he'll forget about the ring in his pocket for now and focus on the present — which was competing in the 'who can eat the most cake without barfing' competition against you.

spoiler alert: he ends up winning :P.... fatass <3

[gatorpond]

for those who would like to support Palestinian olive farmers, equal exchange has Palestine-sourced olive oil! they're an amazing worker owned co-op that works closely with local farmers to support sustainability and pay fair wages.

i frankly cannot afford it, but i know some folks can and would like to get some. it comes in packs of 6 bottles, so if you can get 6 friends together, each person can pay for one bottle!

they also have some of the most delicious coffee and hot cocoa mixes that i've ever gotten, and the same approach applies. given how horrific farming and labor practices are in both of those industries, i highly recommend supporting them and getting some amazing products in return if you can afford it.

[reasonsforhope]

Green energy is in its heyday. 

Renewable energy sources now account for 22% of the nation’s electricity, and solar has skyrocketed eight times over in the last decade. This spring in California, wind, water, and solar power energy sources exceeded expectations, accounting for an average of 61.5 percent of the state's electricity demand across 52 days. 

But green energy has a lithium problem. Lithium batteries control more than 90% of the global grid battery storage market. 

That’s not just cell phones, laptops, electric toothbrushes, and tools. Scooters, e-bikes, hybrids, and electric vehicles all rely on rechargeable lithium batteries to get going. 

Fortunately, this past week, Natron Energy launched its first-ever commercial-scale production of sodium-ion batteries in the U.S. 

“Sodium-ion batteries offer a unique alternative to lithium-ion, with higher power, faster recharge, longer lifecycle and a completely safe and stable chemistry,” said Colin Wessells — Natron Founder and Co-CEO — at the kick-off event in Michigan. 

The new sodium-ion batteries charge and discharge at rates 10 times faster than lithium-ion, with an estimated lifespan of 50,000 cycles.

Wessells said that using sodium as a primary mineral alternative eliminates industry-wide issues of worker negligence, geopolitical disruption, and the “questionable environmental impacts” inextricably linked to lithium mining. 

“The electrification of our economy is dependent on the development and production of new, innovative energy storage solutions,” Wessells said. 

Why are sodium batteries a better alternative to lithium?

The birth and death cycle of lithium is shadowed in environmental destruction. The process of extracting lithium pollutes the water, air, and soil, and when it’s eventually discarded, the flammable batteries are prone to bursting into flames and burning out in landfills. 

There’s also a human cost. Lithium-ion materials like cobalt and nickel are not only harder to source and procure, but their supply chains are also overwhelmingly attributed to hazardous working conditions and child labor law violations. 

Sodium, on the other hand, is estimated to be 1,000 times more abundant in the earth’s crust than lithium. 

“Unlike lithium, sodium can be produced from an abundant material: salt,” engineer Casey Crownhart wrote ​​in the MIT Technology Review. “Because the raw ingredients are cheap and widely available, there’s potential for sodium-ion batteries to be significantly less expensive than their lithium-ion counterparts if more companies start making more of them.”

What will these batteries be used for?

Right now, Natron has its focus set on AI models and data storage centers, which consume hefty amounts of energy. In 2023, the MIT Technology Review reported that one AI model can emit more than 626,00 pounds of carbon dioxide equivalent. 

“We expect our battery solutions will be used to power the explosive growth in data centers used for Artificial Intelligence,” said Wendell Brooks, co-CEO of Natron. 

“With the start of commercial-scale production here in Michigan, we are well-positioned to capitalize on the growing demand for efficient, safe, and reliable battery energy storage.”

The fast-charging energy alternative also has limitless potential on a consumer level, and Natron is eying telecommunications and EV fast-charging once it begins servicing AI data storage centers in June. 

On a larger scale, sodium-ion batteries could radically change the manufacturing and production sectors — from housing energy to lower electricity costs in warehouses, to charging backup stations and powering electric vehicles, trucks, forklifts, and so on. 

“I founded Natron because we saw climate change as the defining problem of our time,” Wessells said. “We believe batteries have a role to play.”

-via GoodGoodGood, May 3, 2024

--

Note: I wanted to make sure this was legit (scientifically and in general), and I'm happy to report that it really is! x, x, x, x

[kookooluvr]

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE — PART 1

jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: fwb should be warning in itself, jungkook is a simp and a hot nerdy professor (yummm), oc has a tabby cat named miso, bam makes his first appearance, jungkook has a big ol' crush on oc, some unrequited romantic feelings (?) we're not sure yet, explicit sexual content; making out, kook has heart eyes for oc's boobs, five second strip show, like a split second of male masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), a teeny wheeny bit of fingering, oc rides that thang like a cowgirl, unprotected sex (oc is on birth control and they're both clean), plus some angsty vibes at the end :(((

a/n: part 1 is out my dudes !!! 😭😭 i hope you enjoy this little introduction to jungkook and oc, and i can't wait to start exploring their dynamic a little more in depth in the next parts!! i'm so excited to go on this journey with you all, so pls make sure to follow, reblog, and send me an ask if you want to chat about these cuties 🤪 part 2 coming soon !

SERIES MASTERLIST

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST

It's the end of the day and Jungkook is on his way out, heading home after an exhausting day at the university. He walks down the corridor, his phone in hand, his eyes trained to his phone as he checks his emails.

You step out of your office, shutting the door and straightening your bag on your shoulder. You dig through it for your office keys, locking up once you find them. He looks up from his phone for a second and spots you, a smile tugging at his lips as he pockets his phone and walks over to you.

He leans against the wall next to your door, arms crossed, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Hey,” he murmurs with a little grin.

“Hey, Kook,” you greet softly, walking away to head home, Jungkook peeling himself off the wall to walk next to you.

“Long day?” he asks with a sympathetic smile.

You love your job, really, you do. But some days are draining and dealing with young adults who don't even know how to reference their sources for an essay or spell parliament properly can actually drive you to drink. “Mm, thank God the day's over,” you chuckle, looking over at him as you walk down the stone walkway together, the sun slowly starting to set on campus.

He chuckles, looking over at you to catch the way the golden hour light casts a pretty yellowish-orange glow over your skin, his eyes quickly diverting down to the ground to stop himself from staring, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Hey, uhm...if you don't have any plans tonight, do you maybe wanna come over to my place?” he asks, feeling like an awkward teenager with a crush every time he asks you that, even if he's done it ten dozen times by now. He knows why he's inviting you over. You know why he's inviting you over.

“Yeah, sure,” you say casually, heading in the direction of the parking lot to get to your car. You see it in its usual parking spot, right next to his, just like it is every day, like a silent declaration that you're a package deal.

His heart really shouldn't do that weird thump-thump thing that it does every time you agree to come over, but it does, and it might just be heart disease, but he is yet to get it under control. “Cool...cool...Is 7 okay for you?” he asks, taking out his keys as he approaches his car, leaning against the driver's door with a little smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I'll just go home and change out of these clothes and feed Miso then I'll head over,” you murmur absentmindedly while you dig through your bag for your car keys, searching through the endless pit of earphones, a tangled phone charger, lip liner, lip gloss, and ten thousand receipts for things you don't even remember buying. He watches you with a faint smile, knowing how messy that bag is, but also knowing that if he lectures you about it, your response will be, 'you don't get it, you're not a woman' so he minds his business and stands by patiently.

“You can go, I'll manage,” you mumble, your eyebrows furrowed, a soft pout on your lips as you rummage through the leather bag. He chuckles and cocks his head to the side, finding it quite amusing. “You sure? I feel like I could find the cure for cancer before you find your keys in that thing.”

“You should quit teaching and go into comedy,” you mutter dryly, finally finding the damn keys. “Ha. Found it,” you quip, smiling sarcastically before unlocking the car. He shakes his head with a soft smile, rolling his eyes as he gets in his own car. He'll get you back for your sass, but he knows that his 'punishments’ feel more like a reward than anything else.

You go home and feed Miso, the grey tabby lounging around like she's the queen of your apartment, completely unbothered that you're only staying for a little while before eventually leaving again to get dicked down hang out with Jungkook. You put on some comfortable sweats and give her a few kisses and cuddles before heading over to Jungkook's place.

This is a regular thing for you guys. You remain professional at work, well, as professional as two people who are hooking up can be, and then you go over to his place, or vice versa, and sometimes there's wine, sometimes there's dinner, sometimes you go straight to the sexy part, or sometimes there's no sexy part at all because one of you just wants to talk or watch a movie. It works for you. It's easy. It feels good. Really good.

He's a good friend. He's kind, he's a good listener, and he's all those nice, sweet, lovely things. He's also really good in bed, which is always a bonus in a...friend.

Good friends offer to drive you home from the club when you've had one too many to drink. Good friends support you in times of need. Good friends go down on you until your legs shake. That's just how it is.

"Slow down, you're gonna choke," he chuckles, watching you stuff your face with Indian takeout. It's like a competitive sport when the two of you eat dinner, which is one of the things you like most about hanging out with Jungkook. There is no pressure to be perfect. You can act the way you really want to and not feel scrutinized for it. Maybe it's just because his big fat crush has completely tinted the way he sees you, but he'd happily watch you pig out if it means he gets to spend time alone with you.

“I thought you like it when I choke a little bit,” you tease, just wanting to get a reaction out of him, and that's exactly what you get. He nearly chokes on his food, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide as he looks over at you.

“Jesus Christ, ___, you can't just say stuff like that,” he coughs, trying to compose himself, roughly clearing his throat to not die via chicken biryani. It’s quite a strange thing how he can go from this to a sex god in bed, not that it's anything for you to complain about.

Jungkook does the dishes after dinner which allows you to enjoy some alone time with Bam. The brown doberman plops down on the couch, practically begging to be cuddled. He’s always been quite fond of you, since Jungkook adopted him three years ago. He’s the sweetest boy. He loves being loved on, much like his father.

Jungkook watches as you give Bam “lovies” as you call it, the dog absolutely basking in the attention.

“I’m starting to think he likes you more than me,” Jungkook jokes with a scoff, smiling as Bam does his ‘sit/lay down’ tricks for you. What a showoff.

“He’s never gotten that comfortable with anyone who isn't me,” he murmurs with a soft smile, watching the two excited puppies in his living room. “He gets really excited when he knows you're coming over.”

“Bam, cut it out. I’m Miso’s mommy, she’s going to get jealous,” you playfully scold him, although the scratches you give him say otherwise. He’s just a doe-eyed, dark-haired, soft-hearted boy. Again, much like his father.

Jungkook finishes drying the dishes and practically shoves Bam out the way to get the same attention from you. He lays down on the couch with his head in your lap and you already know what he wants. You lightly scratch his scalp, watching his eyes flutter shut, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, relishing in the feeling of your fingers in his hair. Sex is great, but there's something about moments like this that just makes him want to get down on his knees and give you whatever you want, whenever you want it.

“I think Bam-ie’s upset,” you chuckle, looking over at him with a soft, apologetic smile, his father looking anything but sorry. He chuckles as he watches Bam quietly stroll back to the bedroom, his eyes fluttering shut once more when you do that thing with your nails that sends shivers down his spine.

“He’ll live,” he scoffs, wincing when you give his hair a firm tug, his lips puffing up into a pout.

You don't really remember how exactly you ended up on his lap with your hands in his hair and his lips peppering your jaw and neck with gentle, tender kisses, but you know that it feels good.

“We’ve been so busy lately, we’ve barely gotten a chance to do this,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands trailing up your thighs to rest at your hips.

You scoff, your eyes fluttering shut as he sucks on that sweet spot behind your ear. It's true. You’ve both been so busy with work that you haven't hung out or had sex in two weeks.

“I know. I’ve been relying on my vibrator.”

He feels a shrill of heat run through him at the thought of you pleasuring yourself, as if he hasn't already seen the actual thing live in-person.

“Yeah? Is he better than me?” he teases with a little grin, pressing soft kisses to your pulse point.

“First of all; she, and I mean…she gets the job done,” you tease, not wanting to outright admit that nothing and no one can make you cum the way he does.

“You couldn't have just said no?” he chuckles, leaning his head back to rest against the back of the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looks up at you. “Maybe I should get myself a toy too…y’know, for when you're too busy,” he teases with a lazy grin.

“What, like a pocket pussy?” you laugh.

“Mm. Something like that.”

“I’d prefer you to be inside me instead of a fake vagina,” you quip, leaning in to press a feather-like kiss to his lips, just testing the waters a bit. “Are you gonna think of me when you use it?” you tease, batting your lashes the way you know makes him go a little weak.

He swallows thickly, nodding like he’s hypnotised. “Of course I’d think of you,” he murmurs, his hips bucking up in a sad attempt to get you to give him some friction. “It wouldn't compare to you though. Nothing compares to you.” His voice is soft and airy, sounding almost pathetic.

You feel a little smile tug at your lips, your resolve slowly slipping. He’s so open about his thoughts and feelings. He’s not afraid to be vulnerable and lay it all out there, even if it is just sex.

His heart does that stupid thump-thump thing again at the sight of your smile, but now really isn't the time to psychoanalyse that, so he pushes that thought away for later.

“Can you take this off for me?” He slips his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your sweatshirt, getting a bit antsy to see more of you.

He’s never really given it too much thought whether he’s an ass or tits typa guy, but when you pull your sweatshirt over your head and his eyes land on that black bra with the little pink bows, the one that you know he likes so much, he swears he’s never seen anything prettier.

“God, I love these.” He leans his head forward to press soft little kisses to the tops of your breasts, his hands trailing up the sides of your ribs. “My pretty girls.”

Your eyes fall shut, the butterflies starting to flutter in the pit of your stomach. Sex with him is so soft and sweet. He says nice things and he makes you feel good, both physically and emotionally, and that makes your anxiety spike just a tad, so you deflect.

“Do you always make conversation with a woman’s tits before you stick it in her or…?”

He chuckles, and it's deep and warm, a little comforting, like if hot cocoa had a voice.

“Take this off. Wanna see them,” he murmurs softly, lightly tugging at the strap of your bra to let it snap back against your skin.

You roll your eyes, but the faint smile on your lips tells him that you're more than happy to oblige. You reach back to unclasp it, letting the material fall from your body, his eyes growing a shade darker at your exposed skin.

He swirls his tongue around a nipple and sucks before repeating the same thing on the other side, giving both breasts the attention they deserve. His eyes flutter shut like he wants to savour every little moment with you.

You reluctantly get up off his lap, and before he can protest, you're discarding the rest of your clothing, sliding your sweatpants down your legs. He makes quick work of following your lead by removing his shirt and pants, his boxers following quickly behind.

You make a little show of removing your panties, and you would normally be embarrassed by the amount of moisture that has already accumulated inside the flimsy material, but right now, all you can focus on is his hand giving his cock a few lazy strokes while he watches you undress for him.

“C’mere.” He spreads his legs a bit, his cock already almost fully hard, the tip slowly turning a light shade of pink. You'd never thought of a cock as 'pretty' before, but damn, it's pretty.

You do as he says without a single protest or complaint, your pussy practically throbbing at the sight of him. Oh, how wonderful it is to be his friend.

You get down on your knees in front of him, his eyelids hanging low as he looks down at you, his hand pumping his cock.

You pride yourself in being good at oral sex, but it's never been something you particularly love doing. That is, until you started hooking up with Jungkook. Sometimes he’ll just be doing something as simple as watching a show on tv, and you’ll be on your knees with your hair up and his cock hitting the back of your throat. It's everything, from the sounds he makes, to the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part in ecstasy, that makes it so enjoyable.

You take over for him, giving his cock a few strokes before swirling your tongue around the head, pulling a deep groan from the back of his throat. You start sucking, working your way down his length, occasionally looking up to see that look on his face that makes your pussy clench. He rests his hand at the back of your head, not applying pressure, just wanting to feel more of you as you bob your head up and down a few times.

You give the tip some attention, then go all the way down to the base so that your nose just lightly brushes against his pelvis, then back up again, keeping a nice rhythm. His groans, paired with the way his stomach tenses every time you take him down to the base, is almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

“Fuck…baby, stop, please. Don't wanna cum too early,” he murmurs hoarsely, reaching for you to get up and straddle his lap. Your hips slide back and forth, your slick coating him, his dick glistening under the low light of the living room lamp.

“Already? Jesus, Jungkook, have some self-respect.” You can't help but tease him a bit, even in a moment like this, where you're in no position to be making fun of his desperation when you’re as wet as you are.

He scoffs, his hand disappearing between your legs, his middle and ring finger rubbing slow circles over your clit before sliding back to sink into your sopping entrance, shutting you right up.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he teases with a lazy little grin, his fingers slowly pumping in and out, your wetness allowing him to move them without any resistance.

“Don't speak about my daughter at a time like this.”

His laughter gets cut off by your lips crashing into his, his fingers slipping out of you as you lift your hips to align the tip of his cock with your entrance.

“Want me to sit on it?”

“Yeah.” His voice is breathless as the anticipation slowly builds in his gut. No matter how many times you have sex, he’ll never get tired of that rush of adrenaline that flows through him in that moment right before he slides in.

“Ask nicely.”

“___, come on,” he laughs half-heartedly, tilting his head back against the couch, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“Ask me nicely and I’ll sit down, Kook,” you whisper, leaning in so that your lips just barely graze against his.

“Please…please, baby. Ride me, please.”

The groan he lets out as you slowly sink down on his cock is enough to send shivers down your spine. It's thick and long, but it's not too big for it to hurt. It fits perfectly, nice and snug like a glove.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he mutters hoarsely, his hands gripping you harder as you begin to roll your hips in that fluid motion that makes him go a little crazy.

It feels like an honour that he gets to see you like this, naked on top of him, riding him deep and slow on his couch after a long day at work. He doesn't know what he ever did in his lifetime to deserve to be balls deep inside you on a Friday night, but he knows that he’s a lucky bastard.

“Just like that. Fuck, you're so tight,” he groans, looking down to watch the way your pussy sucks him in, like something out of a wet dream.

You set a nice pace, riding him just the way he likes it. You reach down to rub circles over your clit, your walls clenching around his cock, pulling soft moans and whimpers from his lips.

“Keep going,” he mutters, his voice trembling. “Fuck, you're gonna make me cum, baby…”

You ride a bit faster, applying more pressure to your clit as you chase your own high. He fights to keep his eyes open, desperately needing to watch you as the pleasure takes over.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” The pleasure creeps up on you and you cum with a breathless moan, your walls fluttering around his length, throbbing and pulsating.

“Gonna…holy shit…gonna cum, baby, don't stop…”

You use the last of your energy to bring him to his peak, moving your hips until his cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath you. He cums with a guttural groan, his fingers digging into your flesh so hard that it might bruise tomorrow.

You continue to grind down on him to help him ride it out. You gently run your fingers through his damp hair, his skin slightly dewy, his eyes squeezed shut. He trembles as the aftershocks flow through him, his breathing coming out a bit uneven.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, looking like he just died and came back to life. He lifts his head to press a soft kiss to your lips, but you pull away before he can deepen it.

“Come on, let go. I gotta go clean up.”

You very rarely allow him to cuddle you after sex. It feels too intimate, too romantic. You don't allow yourself to be romantic with Jungkook. He's not your boyfriend and you like it that way.

He lets out a small hum of disagreement as you lift yourself up, his hands moving to hold your waist.

"Stay here for a little longer," he mumbles softly, his voice drowsy. He looks at you with big doe eyes, trying to persuade you to stay. “Just a few more minutes.”

“You're starting to soften inside me and I have to shower, Kook. You know I hate feeling sticky.”

He reluctantly lets you go, groaning softly as you get up off his lap. "Fine, fine," he grumbles, his eyes following you as you walk over to the bathroom.

You walk off to his bathroom and close the door, locking it behind you. Locking the door is something so simple but it means so much. It means, 'You're not my boyfriend so we can't share that level of intimacy. You can fuck my brains out, but you can't wash my hair in the shower or sit on the toilet while I do my skincare'. It's too coupley.

Jungkook slowly puts his boxers back on, staring at the bathroom door. He knows he’s not your boyfriend. He knows he probably never will be. He knows all your boundaries and your rules and your reasons for having them, but that doesn't make it sting any less. He can't help but wonder what it would feel like if you actually allowed him to love you, but he knows he’s just being foolish and hopeful. He knows that by physically locking that door, you're locking him out of ever getting closer to you emotionally.

PART 2

[fluoneia]

further continuation of pitfighter!vi | part 1 | part 2

sypnosis. vi left an impression on you more then you thought she did. but, you left even more of an impression on her. and you can’t control a feeling like that, can you?

warnings. dom!vi, lowkey hate sex, use of a strap on, lots o angst !! (in the beginning), uhh i tweaked the timeline a lot so this doesn’t exactly follow everything going on. bear w me!

damn.

you were surprised vi stayed true to her word. it was two months since she initially left. you tried to move on with your life, forget her, and try to remember that she was with that someone that she mentioned.

if she stayed, that means she’s happy. right?

right?

stupid feelings. truth was, you wanted her to come back. she wasn’t just any other client to you at this point.

god, how did you get yourself into this mess? you vowed to not get involved with a client. yet, here you were.

“you seem distracted.” your friend, and co-worker says while she combs through your hair. you’d gotten close to her over the past two months, her being your only viable source of comfort in the moment.

you frown as you look into the mirror.

“it’s nothing.” you shake your hand, glancing down to your hands.

“are you sure?” asta cocked a brow as she placed the comb down. “come on. you’re acting so weird lately.”

you run your thumb over the indents of your palm, following your fingers.

“well..” you start, “i.. there was a client. around two months ago. she was..” you snort, “different, that’s for sure.”

“.. okay..” asta looks into space as she thought.

“she told me she wasn’t coming back— that she couldn’t. her heart was taken by this enforcer girl. said she couldn’t give her up.”

asta is quiet for a second. you turn to look at her. “.. so, what i’m getting from this, is you’re getting your heart involved in a client you took twice.”

“what?” your back straightens. “no! no, my heart isn’t involved, i’m just.. curious. that’s all.”

“uh-huh, okay.” asta snorts with a roll of her eye. “who is this, anyway?”

“oh, uh.. her name is vi.”

asta’s eyes widen so far her eyebrows shoot up. “the fucking vi? as in the vi everyone here hates?”

“i guess so.” you frown.

“hah! no way you’re falling for that little sadistic fuck.”

“asta!” i cry.

“i mean, seriously, y/n! she’s no good, especially for you.”

“i’m a whore in the undercity. i’m not exactly amazing.”

“still, though. i can’t believe you wound up having to take her as a client twice, i mean, are you alright after that?”

you glare. then, you smile at the memory. “actually..” you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. “you’d be surprised. it’s not just her that got to take control.”

“you.. vi? being submissive? oh, you’re crazy.”

“crazy good.” you snort, pushing off your chair. “besides, i’m not falling for her.”

“yeah. sure you aren’t.”

“i mean, i can’t, anyways. i’ve already made that mistake before and i’m not about to make it again. my heart is never being involved with my clients ever again.”

asta takes a second to respond. then, she says, “you know, sometimes it isn’t all that bad.” she shrugs. “i met my husband through this business.”

“it does more harm then good. plus, aren’t you two having problems because of the job that you met in?”

“well.. kind of. but still.” she places a hand on my shoulder, “not everything in your life has to be dictated because of what you do as a job to survive. it’s rare you feel a connection with your clients, right? especially you.”

“i don’t have a connection with her.”

“you keep telling yourself that.” asta chuckles, “that’s what i said about my husband before he started courting me.”

“whatever!” i cry, pushing her hand off me. “i have a client.”

“don’t go imaging it’s vi!”

“ugh, shut up asta!”

a week later, you’d made up your mind. obviously, vi wasn’t going to come back. it’d be best for you to just move on.

your hands tighten around eachother.

so damn stupid. you were so damn stupid. your feelings were so damn stupid— she went to you out of convenience, nothing more.

she was under the influence, on a sex drug nonetheless. you went too far with her. you never should have given in to her pleads in the first place.

“come on, slow-poke.”

you still.

“slow-poke is a bit cocky for you to say. i recall you saying i was moving too fast, when i tried to—“

“okay, are we seriously talking about that right now?”

you’d recognize that voice anywhere. it was haunting your thoughts for the past two months.

and you don’t dare lift your head. you feel your breath pick up as you glance forward.

your breath catches in your throat as your eyes land on her. on vi. what the hell was she doing here?

without another thought, you flick your hood over your head. your body curls in on yourself, staring at your feet as you walk forward, moving past her.

“you used to be all over me,” a posh, matter-of-fact voice says. “now, you can barely even look at me.”

“we’re on a mission, caitlyn. we’re not talking about our relationship right now.”

her voice becomes louder as you grow near.

“when will we?”

“soon! just.. just not now.” vi grumbled.

you try to ignore the warmth in your skin as you knock shoulders with her as you pass.

“hey! watch where you’re going—“

vi stops herself as you glance over your shoulder.

you watch as her eyes flicker, the redness seeping into her skin as she flushed.

“wha.. y/n?” she says in almost a whisper.

your eyes glide toward the girl beside her. a pretty woman, with sharp features and rich, navy hair, tied into a ponytail. she held herself so well.

no wonder vi was so enveloped in her.

vi feels like her heart is about to burst out of her chest. she glances toward caitlyn, who gives you a weird look as you stare at her.

what. the. fuck.

that’s all vi can think.

her eyes flicker between you and caitlyn.

vi watched as you slip the hood off your head. you bring your head up with an inhale, forcing a strong front.

“.. hey, vi. funny seeing you here.” you say in that soft tone that’s been haunting her thoughts and her dreams for months since you’ve been apart.

“you know this girl?” caitlyn says as she stares at you. you glance toward caitlyn, brows furrowing. she stared at you like you were filth— and you probably were, body being tainted by the hundreds of hands that have touched the most vulnerable of all— your body.

vi swallows. “yea.. yes, um—“ she closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “old friend.”

old friend? really?

you glare at her.

“can i, um.. can i have a second to talk to her? alone?”

vi’s hand rests on caitlyns shoulder. her skin looked so soft— so clean.

you try to ignore the flame of jealousy in your chest as caitlyn’s hand rests atop of vi’s, before nodding her head once.

“don’t take long.” caitlyn lets her hands drop to her sides. vi gives a small nod, shoulders relaxing as caitlyn steps back, moving out of earshot.

and then she turns to you.

“i thought you said you were never coming back.” you frown as your arms cross on your chest.

“this isn’t me coming back.” vi says curtly. “we’re on a mission.”

“a mission? are you some sort of enforcer now?”

vi says nothing.

you freeze.

“you.. you’re an enforcer.”

“temporarily.” vi raises a hand, “it’s not anything to do with—“

“just go.” you spit. “an enforcer from zaun. it’s not an honour to be labelled that, violet. you’re a pawn in whatever plan they’ve conjured up.”

“it’s a plan to help zaun.” vi says in a whisper as she glances at someone passing. she winced. “can we talk about this elsewhere? preferably not in an open alleyway?”

your eyes shift to the caitlyn girl she treasures so much. she’s staring at the two of you.

“or we could just not talk.” you push off the wall you’d been resting on, “continue on with your mission. you have no use of me, by the looks of it.”

“actually, i do. someone we’re looking for passed through babettes brothel, and we need a—“

“i’m not helping you with this.” you shake your head. “find another worker there to interrogate.”

“y/n.” vi says firmly.

“stop saying my name like that.” you narrow your eyes. “just because you were my client doesn’t entitle me to help you with your stupid investigation. you were a client to many there— ask them.”

“i was more then just a client and you know it.”

her face tightens with anger.

“not really,” you tut your tongue, “you paid, and i gave. nothing more.”

“you can’t be serious.” her hand finds your arm, and she leans closer, glancing around. “you took my virginity. that’s not nothing.”

“you were hardly a virgin when we first met.”

“yeah, not in.. that sense, i wasn’t.”

you hated that she was right. virginity was a prized thing for most people— hell, you used to hold principles like saving your virginity for marriage. and now, look where you were.

but, much like other people, you never forgot your first. a boy from piltover— you were young and naive, much like violet.

“i should have never done that.” you shake your head, “that was too far of me.”

vi’s eyes soften. she glances back at caitlyn, before looking to you. she steers you away, moving out of eyeshot.

“it’s not that i.. regret it. if that makes any difference.”

you huff.

“you said you weren’t coming back. yet, here you are.” you gesture.

“for a different reason.” she tightens her grip on my arm, “come on. help me with this investigation and i’ll leave you alone. for good.”

but that isn’t what you wanted. you didn’t want her to leave— you didn’t want her to be her right now, with her new prized girlfriend, but she was still here. you hated how your heart jumped with glee at that fact.

you inhale a deep breath, clenching your jaw.

“fine. i’ll help you.”

vi exhaled in relief. “thank you.” she whispers. her hand loosens on your shoulder, before slowly slipping off, her fingers trailing over your skin.

“what’s the big deal, anyways?” you furrow my brows.

“cait will tell you everything.” she cocks her head behind her. you nod your head, and follow her as you walk back to caitlyn. it hit you that she was tall, and it made her even more menacing— towering over you with a mean look on her face. you couldn’t tell if that was just her face, or she just didn’t like you. probably both.

“so she’ll help, then?” caitlyn says, turning to vi.

vi nods. “yeah.”

“i can’t promise i’ll actually be of help to you.” you cross my arms on your chest. “just because i agreed to tell you what i know doesn’t mean it’ll be any use.”

“worth a shot, right?” vi shrugs. i give her a brief nod.

“we can’t talk about this here.” caitlyn says.

you sigh. “we can go back to my house. it’s just ‘round the block. but again— i only have an hour.”

they give a nod of agreement. you inhale a deep breath, before paving a way back toward your house.

suddenly, you felt unconscious about your living space. you hadn’t cleaned it, and there was no doubt clothes left on the floor, leaving it a mess. you mentally curse yourself as you unlock the door, pushing it open.

“make yourselves comfortable.” you mumble, kicking some clothes out the way.

vi doesn’t take another glance at the house as she walks inside, following behind you. caitlyn hesitates, looking around the messy room, before following suit.

i grab a glass of water, jumping up onto my counter.

“alright. so, what did you need me for, exactly?” i look to caitlyn.

caitlyn slowly turns her head toward you. “oh— yes, um..” she clears her throat, obviously distracted. “a few days ago, someone passed through the brothel you work at.”

she fumbles through her bag. your eyes glance toward vi, who leans against the counter parallel to you, crossing her arms on her chest. the blue outfit just looked so.. off on her, yet, she still held herself the same.

she didn’t seem that bothered by the mess— partly because she’s seen it before, and partly because she’d already been in your house, in your bed—

stop it.

caitlyn places a sheet of paper on the island. i pick it up.

“have you seen this girl?”

your eyes move around the paper. you had seen this girl before— quite an oddball, but she was funny. blue hair, tied into long braids. your eyes train on the JINX — PILTOVER, WANTED.

“uh.. yeah.” you nod. you’d never expect her to be a wanted criminal, but who wasn’t down in the lanes?

“how? where did you see her last?” caitlyn says. there’s a gleam in her eyes as she leans closer.

“well.. maybe two or three days ago she came around the brothel during my shift. she was a client.”

vi pushes off the table abruptly. “you took my sister as a client?!” she stalks toward you.

“well, yeah.” you shrug. your eyes widen as you realize. “we.. no, she didn’t want anything.” uou chuckle at the memory, “she just wanted to talk.”

vi seems to calm down, her shoulders slouching. you give her a brief look, before turning to caitlyn.

“she.. i don’t know why she came to a brothel to just have a chat, but she isn’t the first one to do that. it’s honestly not that weird for clients to just want to talk like normal people when they have no one else.”

“i didn’t give it that much thought. i don’t remember much about her.”

you glare at vi. “not that it’d be any of your business what happens with my clients.”

vi puffs a breath of air through her nose, ripping her gaze away from you. she didn’t understand why she was so.. so jealous, so riled up over the memory that you still worked at the brothel, that you still took clients, that other people were touching you.

she had no right to be possessive, yet, here she was.

“.. anyway.” caitlyn clears her throat, brows furrowing as she senses the tension between you and vi, “what can you tell me about her? did she say anything about where she was going?”

you shake your head. “we talked for the hour she paid for, then she left. that was it. i didn’t see where she went.”

caitlyn sighs in frustration. vi looks to her, “this was a big waste of time.”

“it was the only lead we had.” caitlyn pushes off the wall. “if we ask some of the other workers, they’ll probably have seen the direction she went.”

“at this point we’ll miss the last departure. it’s too long of a walk back to piltover if we want to be safe.”

“we can’t leave while the trail is hot! if we wait another day, it’s just another night wasted.”

you h ump off the counter. “just stay here.” you place your glass in the sink, “i have a guest bedroom.”

that was a horrible idea.

it was like your mouth was on autopilot as you say this— stuck on the fact that if vi left now, you’d never see her again. it was stupid if you to offer, yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it.

caitlyn glances toward you. then to vi. she raises her eyebrows as if to say, “well?”

oh, and vi was even more stuck. seeing you again drove her crazy— much less sleeping in the same house again. no doubt it’d grab at her head, keeping her awake at the last memory in this very house.

her chest puffed as she tried to regulate her breath. she wasn’t sure if she could handle herself in such close proximity to you again. it’d surely drive her mad.

but, she too was stuck on the fact that this might be the last time she saw you.

so, vi nods. “sure.” she chokes. her voice is tight as she avoids her eyes, glancing down at her feet.

you huff at the memory of your shift.

“the guest bedroom is just down the hall. make yourselves comfortable.” you move past them, shoulder grazing with vi’s— on purpose, on accident, you couldn’t tell. “i’ll be back soon.”

you still as you see caitlyn move out of the kitchen, glancing around. once she was out of earshot, you back up a few steps.

“oh, and, vi?” you lean closer to her, moving to her ear. “try to control yourself. i can sense your tension from a mile away.” you rest your hand on vi’s shoulder. “if you want me to take care of that.. another time, yeah?”

you pull away without another word, giggling under your breath. you pat vi’s shoulder as you slip away, grabbing your coat and bringing it around your shoulders.

and as you close the door, you leave vi’s head in utter shambles again.

she stands in the same spot, mind processing your words.

try to control herself? after you’ve just said that, and you’re looking like the most beautiful women she’s laid her eyes on?

fat chance.

she’ll get you eventually.

you were released early from your shift, as the night was slow. you kind of dreaded getting back to your apartment, knowing both vi and caitlyn were there.

you wanted to help them. honestly. but you werent sure what would.

your mind recalled the memory of that jinx girl.

you remembered you tried to advance on her— assuming that’s what she wanted, like many other clients. but she stopped you.

she surely wasn’t well. rambling on about life and death, about family, and about how no one can be trusted, and all that.

and after that, she disappeared as soon as she payed. you turned to say goodbye, but she was already gone.

you huff as you open your apartment door, slipping your coat off your shoulders. you hear laughing from your living room, and walk toward it.

as you turn the corner, you see caitlyn and vi laughing together.

“vi, i’m serious!”

you linger in the background as you watch them.

“i mean, the look on my fathers face. he couldn’t believe it at first.”

“well, you won’t be able to get rid of me, anyway.”

your face tightens as you watch her place her head on caitlyns shoulder. she spins a pen in her hand.

“i’m the dirt under your nails, cupcake.”

you decide to leave it alone there.

you step back, running a hand over your neck. so she was happy. you grimace as you walk down the hall, entering your bathroom.

“stupid.” you’d whisper to yourself.

here you thought you had vi wrapped around your finger. but really, you were wrapped around hers.

asta was right, anyway. she was no good for you, and you were no good for her. she was right in the fact that your heart was involved. it was involved tenfold.

you were stupid to ever think that you and vi had a chance.

you were a whore from the undercity. she’s an enforcer now.

nonetheless, she was still from the undercity. she was still a zaunite, just like you.

you strip yourself of your clothes. you step into your steaming shower, and let the water run over your body, your hair.

you close your eyes as you try to drown out your thoughts.

it wasn’t until midnight you left your bathroom.

the house was quiet. you deemed that they had gone to sleep, and move toward your room.

you throw on one of your favourite sets— a gift from a reoccurring piltover client from when you used to work there. you loved the silk texture, the white pearly fabric.

and since you hadn’t eaten much today, you move toward your kitchen.

you huff as you walk down the hallway, quiet against the hardwood floor. you grab your glass from the sink, turning on the tap.

“y/n.” a voice says behind you. you jump, spinning around.

“oh. it’s just you.” you sigh in relief as your eyes land on the familiar black of her hair. vi sauntered toward you, leaning against the counter.

“i.. i had a question.” vi whispers. her voice is laced with sleep— she had stayed up to talk to you. alone, finally.

you stare at your hands as you pour the water down the sink, picking up a bag of pretzels. “and what’s that?”

vi bit her tongue. then, she spoke. “what did you mean, before?”

you furrow your brows.

“when you said.. if you want me to take care of that.” vi shuffles. “you said, another time.”

you still. youd forgotten youd said that— mostly to test the waters around her.

“what did you think i meant?” you hum, placing a pretzel on your tongue. you lean your hip against the counter parallel to her.

vi says nothing.

“look— if you’re gonna act clueless, whatever.” you scoff. “but don’t rope me into something that’ll just cause a mess.”

you turn away from her.

as you move, your stopped by a hand on your wrist. she yanks you backward, your back landing harshly on her chest.

you gasp.

“i don’t really care if it causes a mess.”

you feel her breath on your shoulder. her hand smooths over your hip, pulling you against her.

“you’ve been messing with me ever since we bumped into eachother in that alleyway.”

you stare harshly at the wall in front of you. her thumb dips into the fabric of your shorts, resting it there.

“and you show up in these little shorts and expect me to contain myself?”

you feel her lips against your ear.

“what’s with the sudden switch up?” you say breathily, head leaning against her shoulder.

“you know what you’re doing.” violet scoffs against your ear. you feel your skin blaze alight as she presses her lips to your neck. you feel her tongue glide across your skin.

“violet.” you say harshly. you’re not sure how you feel about the sudden change in the air— vi wasn’t the girl she was last time she was here, no, she was how she was in the brothel the first night you met.

this girl really did give you whiplash.

“this is wrong.” you say, hand placing over the hand on your hip. despite your words, you lean into her touch. “aren’t you with caitlyn?”

vi stills for a second at caitlyn’s name. “one more night can’t hurt.”

“that’s what i thought the last time we met.” you hum, leaning into her touch. “one more night.”

vi spun you around, stalking forward, pushing you back until your back hit the counter. her arms caged around you, her eyes so dark, so unrecognizable.

all night, vi had been thinking about how you’re working your shift, having other people touch you. all night, she thought about you.

all she wanted right now was to distinguish herself from the others— to prove to you that unlike all the others, she cared. she cared for your pleasure, she cared for you, despite her mind screaming at her that she shouldn’t.

another wave of jealousy washes over her. she leans closer, hands gliding over your stomach, pushing up the silk shirt.

“you remember how you said to stop thinking so much around you?” vi says with a smirk, nose touching eachothers, her lips parted. you feel her breath on your skin, her hands on your stomach. they truly did feel warm, so calming, so right, unlike the others who have touched you there. you didn’t feel violated under vi’s touch, you felt.. comforted. it gave you a chance to actually feel the pleasure of another persons hand, rather then focusing on giving pleasure.

her hand splays against your back. her lips were so close to yours, merely one movement away. you wanted nothing more then to feel them again.

“that’s what i’m doing.” vi says, voice husky. “cmon.” she gives a toothy smile. “don’t leave me hanging here, cupcake.”

and it’s like everything changed.

your face closes to a deadpan. you push her off, slamming your fists on her chest.

“wha..” vi gives you a look of confusion.

“you’re so.. arrogant!” you lower your voice as you remember caitlyn is still there— the same caitlyn that vi had said that same nickname too a mere few hours ago. “and stupid!”

“what the hell are you talking about?” vi’s brows furrow.

“that nickname.” you spit. “you’d dare to call me that after using it on caitlyn?”

her mind recalls the memory.

i’m the dirt under your nails, cupcake.

her eyes widen. truth was, she was thinking about you when she said that. she said it because she’s your dirt underneath your nails. she came, and now she’s never going to leave, like a thorn in your side.

“really?” vi deadpans. “that’s what you’re worked up about?”

you purse your lips.

she lets out a chuckle that only fuels your anger. she takes a step toward you, before lowering her voice.

“i knew you were listening.” vi explained, “i was saying that to you.”

you still.

“though, this jealous side of you is kind of cute.”

“shut up.”

“just saying. now, can you stop throwing a fit? kind of holding myself back here.”

“ugh, shut up!” you cry before you grab her face, crashing your lips against hers. vi stilled for a second, taken aback, but she feels a rush of passion flow through her body.

her hands are on you in an instant— clawing, grabbing at your clothes so roughly. her lips are just as you remembered; soft. yet this time, they held a sense of dominance unlike the last time you kissed her.

she hummed against you. and you feel so much.. anger, hatred, jealousy, desire. vi was enjoying this way too much, and you hated that.

you feel her hands on your hips once more, her tongue gliding against your bottom lip, as if asking for permission. you give it by pushing your tongue past her lips, her own finding yours as they tangle and dance for a sense of dominance— to see which way will overtake.

but vi leaves no room for argument. her fingers dig into the skin on your thighs. you squeal as your brought from the floor, her hands holding you up as she picks you up.

your legs dangle loosely around her torso, hand smoothing into her hair, pulling, tugging, holding on so she’s forced to never leave.

you didn’t really know where you were going, but now, you were moving. her tongue glided through your mouth, running along your teeth, your tongue, your gums, everywhere, forcing herself through every part of your mouth until there was nothing left.

and oh, did you miss this feeling.

this feeling of passion, of lust, of desire. this feeling of recklessness. you both know you shouldn’t be doing this— but who can stop desire?

you realize she had guided you to your room when you feel your back hit the fur of your bedspread. she pressed herself between your legs, pulling away from you.

“fuck..” she whispered under her breath, hands smoothing up your stomach, cupping your barely clothed breasts.

“don’t talk.” you loose out, grabbing her face again and pulling her lips back onto yours. she takes that as an understanding, fingers unhooking every button oh so slowly.

you lift yourself off the bed to tear the shirt off your shoulders, throwing it to the side.

vi’s eyes flicker as she pulls away, looking at your body. her eyes land on your budding breasts. just so fucking beautiful. every bit and piece of you was perfect in violets eyes, and she hated how she felt that way.

“i missed you.” she whispers, both forgetting and ignoring your demand of silence. she pulls away, taking her jacket off of her shoulders. clothes fly in a haste, leaving you both naked in mere minutes— well, you naked. she kept her bandages on.

you can’t help the next thing you say. “missed me or missed my body?” you huff, sitting up on your elbows.

vi’s brows furrow. her nose twitches, before she crashed her lips back against yours without a word.

ah. got it. you’d think.

whatever. you shouldn’t have expected much with a hookup.

truth was, vi didn’t know. she didn’t know if her actions were based off purely lust, or something else. she tried not to think about it much— she couldn’t think much, anyways. you were just so soft, so beautiful.

her hands smooth over your body, and you were so drunk on her touch you decided not to care about anything else. her hands, touching you, possessing every part of you.

vi’s lips leave yours, trailing kisses down your jaw, onto your neck. you relish in the feel of her tongue, of her teeth scraping against your skin. her hands, smoothing over your thigh, toying with the strand of your panties. you feel your mouth go agape as her tongue glides over your neck, leaving red splotches, marking you.

you gasp as you feel her hands quiver over your clothed core, pressing so gently it made you whine. she was toying you, being so gentle when she knew you wanted her to be rough.

“don’t think i’ve forgotten.”

you couldn’t process her words— not when her fingers slipped underneath the cloth and dipped into your slick. your head throws back, a jolt of pleasure ripping all throughout your body. a shock to your nerves— finally, a touch that was pleasurable.

“oh, you’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”

your brows furrowed. what the hell was she talking about?

you let your mind fog again when her fingers dip inside of you, pressing so deep. you gasp, feeling your skin grow ablaze, the ache in your stomach only growing. you grasp onto the bedsheets, shocked at how fast this was moving— ten minutes ago, you were accepting the loss of whatever this relationship was. now you were thinking, what the fuck is wrong with me?

“you’re gonna feel everything i felt that night.”

she says this so close to your ear. you feel her breath on the shell of your ear, her teeth nipping at your skin.

“though, you won’t be under a drug like i was. i’ll just have to make up for that.”

her fingers press up as if to further move her point. you let your eyes close, body leaning toward her, hips pressing against her wrist.

“where do you keep those things, hm?”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you huff, eyes slowly opening to look at her.

“you know,” she leaned closer. oh god, her eyes. that smirk. you were done for.

your brows furrow as you thought. her fingers slipped out of you, causing you to frown at the loss of her touch.

she ran a hand through her hair as she looked around, before reaching over you to open a drawer. your eyes catch on the glimpse of her bicep, a glimpse of the tattoo that ran down her back. gods, it only turned you on further.

“ah.” she says. you’d hear her fumble with something before moving back to you.

and your eyes shift to the thing in her hand.

one of the strap ons you owned— and never used, just by the sheer size of it. black, girthy, and big.

“nonono, violet—“you back away from her. she could not use that one, not now.

“oh, yes.”

there’s a certain gleam in her eyes as her hand grabs your hip, pulling you closer to you.

“told you.” she says as she leans back, fumbling with the straps. “i’m gonna get you back.”

you were in for it now.

for someone who’d never used a strap on before, you were pleasantly shocked.

you’d moan into your pillow as her hips slam against yours, over and over and over again. her hand smoothed over your back, pressing it down so your hips pushed up.

you’d never felt this.. this good, this full.

your entire body shook, every bone weak and practically useless. it took everything in you to hold yourself up, to not pull away from her, from her hips.

“oh—“ you groan, “vi!” you’d lost yourself, suddenly not caring about your voice. once vi realized that, she dragged her hand under to your chest, pulling you flush against her.

her hand moved over your mouth, silencing your cries.

at the new angle, she only pushed deeper.

your eyes widen, every nerve, every muscle twitching and shaking with pleasure. you couldn’t handle it, you simply couldn’t.

“not so tough now, huh?” she huffed, her voice out of breath and tight. you feel her being her hips back, just barely, before pushing back into you with such force you felt tears well into your eyes.

how could one woman have this much stamina?

you’d lost count at the amount of climax’s she’s brought you to.

she abruptly pulled out of you, flipping you over, pressing your back against the bed. it was like your body was drained of any sort of will— her strength easily able to manhandle you in every way she could, every position she wanted you in.

she placed herself back inbetween your legs. you saw that smirk on her face, so cocky and confident.

you couldn’t form words to comment something about it.

she brushed her hand over her forehead, inhaling a deep breath of air.

“i kind of like this.” she said breathily as she lowered her hand, aligning the tip of the silicone cock to your hole. as you feel her push back inside you, you let out a damned scream.

she’s quick to cover it, lips pressing against yours to silence your cries.

your legs touched either side of the bed, her hands pinning them down. your hips ached at the stretch— your core ached at the raw stretch the strap-on gave you, and as she pressed further deep inside of you, you swore you saw stars.

“god, oh, i— fuck!” you cry against her lips, hands gripping so hard on her back, nails digging into her skin, leaving crescent marks on her shoulders.

“shh, shh..” she hushed, hand smoothing across your thigh as a sense of comfort, yet, it only riled you up more.

she was so deep, so insanely deep— somewhere surely no one’s ever touched before.

“wouldn’t want anyone to hear you, would you?” she’d taunt, “see you in this position..”

her hips pull back, before bullying her way back into you, at such a slowed, tedious pace— to mess with you, no doubt.

you didn’t care. you didn’t care for anything— you couldn’t, not after this. you were sure you’d never felt anything like it— it was even better then the first night at the brothel.

“i— i can’t—“ you’d cry, head pushing into the pillow to hide your face. you just.. felt so fulfilled.

“oh yes, you can.” she mumbles, eyes flickering over every expression you’d made, engraving it in her mind.

her hips were flush against yours, filling you to the brim. her body pressed against your chest, her hands moving to grip onto the pillow on either side of your head.

“oh, fuck.” she said so softly, wincing as she felt the pressure against her own clit. then, her hips pulled back, and slammed right back into you. she found out, in this new position, it also gave her pleasure.

with how sensitive she was, even the short amount of pressure could help the ache between her legs.

a gleam found her eyes.

her pace became faster, harder, like a damned piston jolting inside of you.

you bite hard into your lip, hands falling limp and falling on either side of you.

“a little longer, princess..” she huffed into your ear. “come on, you can take it.”

“no, i—!” you cry, legs clamping around her torso. “mmmph—“

“just..” she let out a sharp exhale, adjusting her hips so the base hit her clit just right. she moaned into your ear, eyes rolling back, and the sight was just so damn beautiful.

you feel the cord in your stomach grow hot, your body shaking with every thrust she made.

at this rate, you weren’t sure how much you could handle— it was too much vi, so much vi, you were going to go mad. vi, vi, vi.

“oh, vivivi—“ you whined, your body riling itself up, again and again, over and over, each thrust bringing you closer to the familiar taste of an orgasm.

you were scared. scared of the feeling, of the pure pleasure that coursed through your body each and every time. scared of that feeling, of that blinding— oh, god!

your eyes shut closed, your legs clamped around her as that familiar snap of your orgasm flooded through you.

“say my name.”

“v..” you attempted. and then, you deflate against the matress. “vio..”

“come on, you can do it.”

her hips were relentless, forcing you through your orgasm. your body aches with overstimulation, threatening to burst with each and every second.

“say my name.” she says it more directly, nearly damn demanding you to. her voice is a growl against your ear, her hips picking up in pace.

“oh, violet!” you cry, voice cracking.

vi let out a loud moan, her head pressing against your neck, whining against your skin.

and then, she deflated above you.

your body jolts and shakes with every flow of energy, every flow of pleasure. you were so fulfilled, so full, finally getting what your body had been aching for, begging for.

a proper fuck.

a proper fuck from vi.

you had vi. and that was all you needed, even if it was only for the times being.

you yelp as she flips you over, resting you on her chest. she pressed her hips deeper inside of you, and you gasp.

“n.. no! no, no more.” you cry, your head falling against her chest.

“don’t worry.” she says as she caged her arms around you, hands resting tightly on your waist. her hands run up your back. “i won’t push you.”

you let out a sigh of relief.

you fell into a silence.

it was hard for your body to recover from your orgasms when the strap-on was still inside you, pressing into that spot. with every shift she made, you felt your body rile up again.

a beat of silence.

another.

you hear your click tick. you feel her chest go up and down with her breath. you hear her heart beat.

.

.

“i missed you.”

she says this so softly. her arms tighten around your torso, her nose nuzzling into your hair.

“not your body.”

a/n. uh.. hey.. sorry this took so long LOL anyway this kid kind of rushed i apologize and it kind of sucks but blushes thank u for all the support on this little mini saga that stemmed off a one shot 🤗

taglist. @just-levyy @princesssmars @thesevi0lentdelights @kissyslut @devotedlyelectronicartisan @cheyisagirlkisser @maracujais @n1shuu @vivispace @elliecoochieeater @izu-lu @wanna1be0 @honeybunbunnie @yariany02 @dumblilb @lalalalal16 @vyvvycg @ayooooohush @slvtformilfs @the-disaster-in-waiting (some of ur tags didn’t work im sorry :( )

[punkbarbarian]

for folks who don’t follow them on instagram— ally beardsley wrote part of an op-ed in the washington post for the 50th dnd anniversary about a moment playing dnd that really stuck with them and i wanted to share it here!

“a character’s journey — and my own”

I was an aspiring comedian in Los Angeles and had just landed a salaried job at the comedy website CollegeHumor. My co-worker and friend Brennan Lee Mulligan was looking for six comedians to create a show that would be like an at-home game of D&D. Why not? “Dimension 20” became a weird punctuation to my day.

I remember there being too many rules to remember. I kept turning to my friend, Brian Murphy, to ask which dice I should be rolling. I wasn’t paid overtime, but I loved the group and was having a lot of fun.

For the second season, I had my sea legs. I created a character for the campaign who was transgender. I had started going by the gender neutral they/them pronouns at work and among friends, but sourcing hormones or getting surgery seemed equal parts expensive and invasive. A fun thing about fantasy is stripping away the crunchy, real-world limitations and asking yourself: “What would I do if I could do anything?”

That season’s arc for my character, Pete, was extremely euphoric for me. I had described him as a trans cowboy you might see at Burning Man, and the artist drew him dressed as a freaky Hunter S. Thompson in an open shirt to show his top surgery scars. He has wild magic — uncontrollable and dangerous in the game mechanics — which we used to explore the painful chaos of leaving a family that doesn’t accept you.

Since then, I’ve started testosterone HRT and had top surgery. It’s funny to listen back to myself playing a character who had transitioned in ways I hadn’t. It’s full of inaccuracies that make me smile. Pete takes a testosterone pill every day; I now know it’s a weekly injection or a topical gel. I see my face, one wrapped up in playing something so new but instantly right. It was like an oracle. A near-future me who has health insurance! Who’s talked to their mom about being trans and even spent a week post-top surgery on that mom’s couch in Temecula, Calif!

As I started transitioning my appearance, seeing that in front of the camera felt raw. I was starting hormones, and my voice was cracking. Realizing it was all being recorded felt naked at times, but it has been really nice to talk to fans and friends about how important it is to see someone that looks like you taking a big risk on themself.

With Pete, it was really important to me to tell a story other than the dramatic lead-up to a medical transition. So we started with him having just gotten out of surgery, but that’s all you see of that process. Part of his backstory is that he doesn’t have a relationship with his transphobic parents, and before shooting the first episode, I felt sick to my stomach. I’ve been on a journey with my parents, and our starting place didn’t have much common ground. When my character meets with his father, it felt as though I was actually running into my own on the street.

Brennan could sense that discomfort, and as my character’s dad was about to call Pete by his deadname, Brennan shut the interaction down, surrounding his dad with bubbles that carried him into the sky. Magic is the power and freedom to manipulate your reality, and you can banish the awful voices in your life — let them swirl away into the air.

[objectsworld]

I realllllllllllllly wish I worked in the warehouse department where all the coolest pipes are.... I still swoon over that fire extinguishing system daily. Its so cool. I really appreciate their design and the way they go through the whole building is soooooooo cooooooool. But theyre hidden in the ceiling except for in the warehouse. Thats the only place you can really see them. And like god I dont know how to describe why I like them so much but jesus christ. Jesus.

I know Ill have to go into the warehouse tomorrow morning to get stuff so I'll look forward to that :D

[thedivinetarot]

'Cause I like you quite a lot, it's you who I adore though I make boys fall like domino's

Who has a crush on you?

☆ How to chose your pile?

Close your eyes and clear your mind. Take a deep breath and ask the question in your head. And shall the picture you are drawn to the most be your pile.

☆ Disclaimer:

This is a general reading so take what resonates and leave the rest. In this reading I won't do an energy check since many of you are not resonating with it anymore.

Mood board from @divinationsanctuary19

Pile 1 - Pearls

☆ Who?/ physical description:

I see that this person has self esteem issue. I see them as someone who really might have confidence issues. And it affect their life in a really negative way. Okay, also this person is workaholic until the point of exhaustion. They may stay up at night because of tiredness. I see that they work a lot. This person might be a soulmate/twin flame of yours. This person might be a co-worker of yours. They have a lot on their plate. This person is someone who is really family oriented. Someone who values family and find emotional fulfillment within a family. Someone who is managing their family finances. They might have a family (wife/children) or they are spending their money on their parents. Or maybe this person is already married omg (this is so spicy I can't😭). The 10s cards are repeated twice so this person might be someone who is socially in a higher place than you. It also gives me boss energy, someone in a higher status with lots of money and resources. But they got it all from their work, their own work. Now with their physical appearance: this person has dark brown hair, brown or black eyes. Someone who look younger than their actual age. Someone whose physical appearance to them is a source of insecurity or they are closed off. This person's aura seems very calm and soothing. I see that their shoulders are slightly wide and their body proportions almost equal. Physically, this person is average like nothing really make them stand out and you can easily not notice them in the crowds. The thing (I'm going to add a note here) this person is happily married to their spouse/ wife. And they have a legacy with them but now we will know why they are crushing on you.

☆ How do they see you?

Will first I see that their first impression of you was quite sharp. They saw you as someone who is quick witted and quite sharp mentally. You might appeared very smart to them which really attracted them to you. They also got attracted to your confidence and your youthful spirit. This person physically saw you as someone who is cute and baby doll. I don't know why I got baby-daddy/mommy dynamic. This person sees your beauty now as soft and delicate. Like their first impression on you was nothing like how they see you right now. I see that right now they see you as someone who is delicate, sweet and pure. Also I got the 9 of cups which is quite weird position for it. Well, even though this person is married and have a legacy they see that you might be someone who is good for them or their wish fulfillment. In addition, your cold and aloof attitude draws them to you even more. I see that you make them remember someone, to them your aura is very familiar. You remind them of someone they used to know when they was younger. (Idk why I'm picking on someone who is OLD and established).

☆ Placements for you:

Pisces, cancer, Aquarius, Gemini and mars in Aries.

☆ How do they feel?

Well, I see that you took this person off guard when you appeared in their life. You wasn't on their plan and meeting you was something unexpected at all. I see that what they feel for you is quite delightful. I see that this person really get distracted whenever you are around. I see that when they see that you are around they stand and stare, a wave of excitement and emotions overwhelm them. They feel that they want to protect or get possessive over you. This person either fear those emotions or they keep them to themselves. I see that whenever you are around they get quite and just STARE and you. Like your whole presence put them at ease. They also feel giddy and happy but can't seem to show it off because it will put them in a questionable place.

☆ Placements for them:

Aries, Sagittarius, virgo, Gemini, Pisces, Capricorn. Or mercury, dominant for them.

Pile 2 - Doves

☆ Who?/ their physical appearance?

Well, I see that this person is quite sad. I feel like you see those guys who listen to lana? Beautiful but sad? he gives of the same vibe. I see that this person gives off the impression that they work so freaking hard but they don't get paid enough. You see those people who works in malls? At the cashier? I think also that this person might work in a job that really don't pay them enough. They look so tired and above all they are stubborn. They don't wanna let go of that job. I see that this person is very emotionally content on their own and also I see that there's a distance between you two. You might meet them when you are traveling. I feel like this person might work so hard to prove themselves but their efforts go unnoticed. Which frustrate them even more. I see that this person is quite smart and detached but their stubbornness is the only thing that cause them trouble. I see that they know when to strategically use their wit. They might be someone who is considered smart academically. I mean I got the king and queen of swords. This person whenever you see them they display a bitch face. Or they look grumpy. They look emotionless, no expression. I see that they got heartbroken before but they got over it and found peace with it. I see that they took the lesson and healed so don't worry that they will break yours. But anyways, I see that might build up a lot of walls around themselves so you can't hurt them again. Now for the physical appearance this person have brown to black hair. Or espresso black hair. Their eye color is definitely brown or hazel. I see also that they work out a lot. Their body is defined and considered fit. Their hair might be wavy or a little bit frezzy. They are average like from 5'3 to 6'0 (173 to 182 cm). Their face is always serious, they look angry all the time. They might also be an introvert too. Like you won't see them hanging out with more than 2 to 3 people.

☆ How do they see you?

Okay, first.... I see that this person see that you are someone who is apathetic. Like especially in work settings. They see that you should not be in the place you are in at all. This might be their initial impression of you. You might come off as someone who lack motivation or apathetic and even lazy. I also that this person might see you as sorceress 😭. I see that they see you as someone who is very alluring like... alluring emotionally. You might be someone with a lot of charms, like you know how to treat people with kindness and compassion. I see also that they see you as someone with a lot of calm and serene aura with a mix or confidence and authority. You come off to this person as someone who is confident, authoritative with a hint charisma and emotional maturity. I see that with alot of this they see you as someone who is a bit conservative about your social interaction, like you don't associate yourself with a lot of people or you keep your interactions limited. I don't know why I feel like this person really want to reach you but they feel like you are distant. It feels like they are reaching for the moon when they are dealing with you. Also, you might intimidate them with the way you walk. Like you seem sharp when you are walking, you don't look at people you only look at where you are going.

☆ Placements for you:

Gemini, Scorpio, Aries, Leo, Capricorn. Mercury, Mars, Pluto, Saturn, jupiter. Sun or moon in the 1st, 3rd, 8th, 5th, 10th house in the chart, Pluto and mars making aspects to your ascendant.

☆ How do they feel?

This person feels very at peace when they look at you. I see that since you have a very calming and trusted aura they feel very at peace with the thought of you. I see that they feel very confident that one day you'll be their wifey lol. They feel this unconditional love towards you, I'm not joking at all the cards are very positive. I see that the first time they interact with you might happen through text or a following request on social media. They might be so sure that they want you. I see also that whenever they look at you they feel this feeling that they can leave their bad days and heal from bad experiences. Maybe the thought of you put them at ease. Like your aura is incredible to the point that they feel very calm when they think of you🥺. I see that they have a hint of passion towards you too. They might act more energetic and confident around you just to get you to notice them. I hope that by now you knew them pile 2. Take care💕.

☆ Placements for them:

Fire placements (leo, Aries and sagittarius) , Taurus, Cancer, Gemini, Mar in gemini, Venus in taurus, Jupiter, moon, Venus dominant in their chart. Sun or moon in the 1st, 9th, 5th, 2nd, 4th, 3rd house.

Pile 3 - Hands of a lady

☆ Who?/ physical appearance

Well, that's huge but what I'm seeing is someone that is very skillful, they embody the magician card. Someone very skillful, very good at turning their wishes into reality. They are very strong individual with a charismatic aura. They might be student in your school or college. I'm picking up on someone who studies at the same institution as you and if not then they might have took the same class as you (doesn't have to be school or college it might be as simple as pottery class). I see that this person really travels a lot. And very successful in their work (if they do so). This person is very fair. When they love you they give more than they receive, someone who is selfless and patient. They might have forward thinking because they worry alot about the future. They also get very doubtful about opportunities and they sabotage it by themselves unfortunately. This person has a lot of potential, and skills but they are either too lazy or too doubtful to work on them. Now their physical appearance, this person is in their 20s as I said above they might be a college student or still in school. Hair is silky and straight and for a very little group here this person has curly hair. Their hair color is unique or they dyed it. Their natural hair color might be blonde and they dye it black or the opposite. The way that they carry themselves is very elegant. It gives off someone who is rich. Even if they are not rich their aura seems very rich and elegant. They might wear a potato sack and appear beautiful. They possess natural beauty. They might be sad too, or they appear sad or their mouth drop downward like this face (😞). They might wear a lot of green? Yes I guess so. I guess this person wear alot of green and it look fabulous on them. Eye color might be mixed, like you see that person whose eye color change with lighting? I'm getting brown greenish or green or brown or even hazel. Did it resonate with you pile 3? Tell me if so and take care💕.

☆ How do they see you?

Well, I'm getting that this person sees you as someone who is intimidating. I see that they get terrified whenever you are around. Also, someone unpredictable with sharpness around the edge. Maybe you are enneagram 8? Or ISTP? I see that you dress in a way that is quite edgy. Like not the typical good girl way of dressing. Something very black edgy and emo. But you beauty is very alluring to them. I see that the way you dress might be revealing? Like you might show your boobs or wear mini skirts or you intend on revealing lots of skin or cleavage. I see that they like your cleavage or your boobs. I see that it is the thing that really attracted them to you. This pile feels more physical and sensual, like this person's main focus in your physical body. I see that they really see that you are someone with very alluring beauty. Something like a siren. You put a lot of thought into your appearance. And you take care of your health and body. I see that you appear as a mystery to that person, someone who is beautiful, and mysterious. They see the potential of this to grow into something more lighthearted and healing.

☆ Placements for you:

Pisces, Leo, Virgo, Scorpio, Aries, Aquarius. Venus in virgo, harsh aspects between Mars and sun in your chart. Mars, Mercury, Sun, Moon dominant in your chart.

☆ How do they feel about you?

They want to come towards you. I see that they already thought about it and it seems very sure of themselves. I see a grand gesture, something carefree and diplomatic. They might gentlemanly help you in something you are doing so they can be close to you. I see that whenever they think of you a strong feeling of love and nurturing take over them. They want to take care of you. They feel also like your relationship with them is fated. Like you both are meant to be. I see that they try to move on from you but whenever they try they fall harder lol. You might not study in the same class but meet in the hallways and they feel very electrified whenever you are around. You see that feeling of electricity pass through you when you see your crush? They feel the same way. But generally, they feel very positive towards you. So, enjoy it baby💋. I hope you enjoyed the reading pile 3.

☆ Placements for them:

Gemini, virgo, Libra, Aries, Scorpio. Mercury, Saturn, Pluto, mars. 1st, 3rd, 7th, 8th, 6th house placements.

Pile 4 - Lady and sea waves

☆ Who? Their appearance:

Pile 4 is that your ex? I feel like this is someone who is very earthy. I mean someone who used to keep you close to them but now they are far away? I see that you had a fight with them and it was because of their possessiveness or jealousy towards you which was unbearable. I see if you are away from this person they want to start all over but in a tricky way. Like they might reach out to you in a way that might not hurt their ego. I see that even after this they are unsure if this is going to last or not. They just want you back. I see that they used to carry a lot of uncertainty and they felt super unsure of where things are going and now if they return it won't be how you expected? I mean this person hasn't changed yet and they do not intend to change. I mean they want you back just to prove to themselves that they can have you back. I think this person was dedicated? And all of sudden things just changed. I don't know if you should get back to them or not. I don't like their energy, it feels very tricky and deceiving. I guess that they are attached to you emotionally. They do not intend on breaking free out of this toxicity. This person is toxic they do not want to change and at the same time they want you back. Now for their appearance, this person might wear heavy clothes even during summer. Their hair is wavy or straight, I see that the color range from blonde to light brown. And they are pale AF, also for some they have a very dark undertone. I'm picking up on someone who wears a lot of white shirts too. This person has medium height and for some they are short lol. For their eye color mostly brown and other have blue eyes I'm not picking on anything specific could be hazel too.

☆ How do they see you?

Well, I'm picking up that this person see how emotionally distant and cold you are. You might have given them a lot of attention that made their confidence sky rock. I see that they know how much anxiety they caused you, they know that they are the reason that you are distant and cold towards them and other people. I kept typing void? So you might have filled the void inside them and they got attached? I got the devil card twice and no it doesn't have to be that they see you as someone who is sexy. They see that they are attached to you. I see also that you bring them a lot of anxiety. Because as I said before, because they are toxic; they know how tick you boxes and use you whenever they want. And they are very sure that you are going to satisfy their ego (please don't you are more than this). They give off the vibe of someone who is emotionally distant... avoidant to be more specific. They know how much they have caused you and doesn't intend on making things better, they want you because they are attached to you emotionally not because they love you so be careful pile 4 you are amazing🤍.

☆ Placements for you:

Aries, Gemini, Leo, Libra, Capricorn, jupiter, mars, Sun as dominant planets in the chart. Or those placements as sun moon or ascendant.

☆ How do they feel about you?

They feel very sure of themselves that you are going to fill up their void. I see alot of imbalances in this relationship, someone here is taking more than they receive and the opposite. I see that they have quite mixed imbalanced feelings towards you and they are not sure of how to deal with all of them. One day they feel like yes, they love you and they will do better and other times they feel like you are too much and they doesn't understand themselves. I hate their energy, maybe you are with them because you feel pity for them not because you love them. If you end this I assure you that you'll get better soon. I mean the general dynamic between you two is quite toxic and imbalanced. They don't know how to keep you and how to let you go so please be the reason for this to end. Sometimes, leaving is better than staying for something that is no good for you. Take care pile 4 💕.

☆Placements for them:

Taurus, virgo, Scorpio, gemini, Libra, Sagittarius. Saturn, Pluto, mercury dominant in their chart. Or their moon, sun or ascendant in those signs.

Post date: 30th of Nov/ 2024 - Sat

* Feedback is appreciated

[unsolicited-opinions]

How Ireland greets Israelis

My heart is truly broken THIS is Ireland in 2025. During my business trip to Dublin, me and my co-worker were assaulted by an organized group of girls for simply being Israelis. Previous to me filming the video, one of the girls approached me with camera to my face saying my name and basically all the intel she had about my stay in Dublin (the hotels I moved, the reason I came). It had been going like that for more than a couple minutes, with no one intervening. I had to film them so I could use that as evidence to the local police. Sadly, the police only came to the hotel two hours after the incident and didn't seem to care at all about the matter.

...

I couldn't sleep the whole night and locked myself in my hotel room until I moved to another hotel the following day. I will never step foot in Ireland again

Am Israel Chai

Source

[ilium-ilia]

you're an angel // i'm a dog

kyle "gaz" garrick x fem!reader | omegaverse | alpha!gaz, omega!reader | masterlist

Chapter Five: fever

tw: minor smut

The office is quiet today. 

Every particle in the air vibrates at a frequency that sends a buzz barreling through the base of your skull. White bone jittering into enamel, teeth aching with each tick of the clock nailed into the wall above your head. Your co-worker types away on her phone, and the sound of her nails tapping against the screen only makes your jaw tighten. 

Something is off. An atom out of place. Molecules rearranged until the base source is unrecognizable. Wood turned to stone. Food turned to rot. 

It isn’t until John MacTavish enters your office that you realize what’s wrong. 

He’s a kind man. Everyone calls him Soap, and it’s a name you’ve picked up on too as a way to differentiate between the two John’s within the same team, though no one’s been brave enough to tell you how the nickname came around. Bright eyes glistening with an uncanny blue, his fingers tap against a thin stack of papers with your name written all over it. Something to file away and process. He greets you before holding it out for you to take, letting the silage of John Price wash over you, and though you take it with a smile, something stirs within your chest. 

“Fresh off the printing press,” Soap teases. 

“Hmm. Still warm,” you play. Pausing, you look at the heading as you allow yourself a moment to gather your thoughts. “Is Kyle doing alright?” 

Soap’s lips press together in a tight smile at your question. “What do you mean?” 

Momentarily forgetting about your work, you put the new report to the side as your shoulders tense with a shrug. “Well, it’s just that he’s usually the one to bring me Captain Price’s reports, and I realize I haven’t really seen him at all the last few days.” You attempt to shrug off your tension and brush it aside with a taut laugh. “Guess I’m just worried about him is all.” 

He nods along with your words as you speak, attentive to every syllable. Soap leans back on his heels, hands shooting up towards his chest. Though he’s been back from deployment for a week or so now, his brain must still be in combat mode with fingers attempting to reach for straps that aren’t there. 

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout him, he’s fine,” Soap assures you. “Just caught a wee bug. Price sent him home for a little while until it’s run its course.” 

There’s something hollow about his words—something you can sniff out but can’t pin. “Oh. That’s unfortunate.” 

“Aye. He’s tough though,” he humors. 

There’s a lull in the conversation. A doldrum that leaves your ears ringing. For a long moment, neither of you make a move to speak, but you’re not ignorant to the way Soap’s eyes scour you. Surveying every nook and cranny, pupils dilating at the clean crook of your neck. 

“Though, he’s been alone for a couple of days. I’ve hardly had the time to drop by and check on him,” Soap adds flippantly. “Been meaning to, but thing’s ‘ve been so busy lately since we got back, especially with him being down for the time being and—”

“I can check on him.” 

A grin. Bright teeth closed by thin lips—Soap leans forward. “Aye, really? That’d be real sweet of you.” 

“Yeah, sure. Just give me his address. I’ll drop off some stuff for him. Do you know what he’s sick with? What his symptoms are?”

There’s a glint in Soap’s eyes. Something that shines so bright it momentarily blinds you, rendering your gaze useless to his smirk. “Ah, just a bad fever is all, pet.” 

The moment the clock strikes five, you’re rushing off base and to the pharmacy. These walls and shelves are familiar to you—this is not your first time helping someone sick. When you were a kid, your mother always told you that you should be a nurse. Always ready and eager to help others; more so than the average omega. You’re not sure why the urge overwhelms you as much as it does, this desire to aid others. Bandaging the bent wing of a bird. Cooing to kittens as you feed them with bottles hardly larger than the size of their own bodies.

Maybe you just like being useful. 

You scrape off several cold medicines from the shelves before approaching the counter with your arms full. Cough medicine with a sleep aid, acetaminophen, pseudoephedrine—the pharmacy tech looks at you with raised brows. There’s enough here to cure a small battalion. Certainly enough to raise suspicions within the system. You set aside the pseudoephedrine with a breathy chuckle before snatching the other items and booking it to the grocery store. 

Canned soup. Something with high salt. Electrolytes. Then, something of substance. Plain crackers, bread—you think of things that used to comfort you when you were sick as a child and add those to your trolly. A side of hard candies. Animal crackers. 

You think of your mother. Her arm around your side, your face buried against her with a cold rag on your forehead, small body hidden beneath swathes of blankets that could have suffocated you. You swear, each time she planted a kiss on your face everything felt lighter, as if your sickness was siphoned out of you with her touch alone. Though you might not be able to offer Kyle that, you’ll do the best you can with a replacement. 

Kyle’s home comes into view just before the sun kisses the horizon. His off base housing is more accommodating than you ever would have expected—a quaint townhouse standing tall with faded bricks and obscured windows. Not a single morsel of light bleeds through the panes, and if it wasn’t for Soap’s word, you’d be convinced that he isn’t even home at all. 

It takes several minutes for him to answer the door at your beckoning. Knuckles tapping against solid wood, free hand clutching the bags of groceries—he’s shirtless when he undoes the lock. Padded muscles glow dimly in the porch light as he peeks through the open crack soaked in sweat. He’s panting as if he’s just run a marathon, chest heaving with each inhale, eyes widening as they lock onto you. 

“Oh no. No, no, no,” he murmurs. 

Kyle stumbles away from the door, not even closing it all the way before he vanishes into his den. Blinking, you follow after him, groceries long forgotten by his work boots as your eyes slowly adjust to the darkness that consumes you. 

“Kyle, is everything alright? I brought you—” 

It hits you. A tidal wave of redolence crashes down around your body, weakening your knees to the point they nearly give way beneath you. It’s thick with musk and desire, and it envelopes you with saccharine whispers just as you make sense of the sight before you. Kyle, sitting on his haunches, spine curved forward, fingers curling against the hardwood floor as if he’s ready to rip the building apart from the ground up. 

The realization knocks the air from your lungs—this sweet beta isn’t a beta at all, and he’s in rut. 

“Please leave.” He’s begging through gritted teeth, tongue hardly kept in check behind his incisors, eyes refusing to look up at you. “You don’t wanna be here for this, pet.” 

Your heart can hardly stand the sight of him—Kyle Garrick, always so kind and sweet with his playful banter. Now, he looks scared. Terrified that something will spring forth—something he can’t stop. Ignoring his warning, you step forward, hands already reaching for him. 

“I was on suppressants,” he heaves. Though he’s shirtless, he still has trousers on; a pair of joggers that can hardly hold anything back. Even with his torso curled forward, you can still see the want growing below his navel; how it pulses and screams for something—someone. “Been on them for a long time, love. But you… your scent… It drives me mad. Cuts through me like a knife.” 

Another step, you’re lowering yourself so you’re closer to his level—a skittish creature attempting to snuggle up to a predator for warmth. “When was the last time you were in rut?” 

“Too fucking long,” he snaps. “Please go. I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do. I’ll be fine on my own.” 

“Oh, Kyle.” You’re on your knees now, hands resting on your thighs for only a split moment before you decide to reach for him. His metacarpals flex beneath your palm, as his nails dig into the wood—you swear you see scratch marks left in their wake. “You’re always working so hard to take care of everyone. I see it. How you fuss over the others. How you’re always wanting to be there for everything. Let me help you.” 

He finally garners the bravery to look you in the eyes now, even though he’s certain it’ll destroy him. “You dunno what you’re asking for, pet. You shouldn’t have to do this.”

“Kyle, I want to do this,” you assure. 

Your hands wander up over his arm. Crossing his wrist, his elbow, along his shoulder and the side of his neck, all the way until you’re cupping his cheek. When you add your other hand, it’s all over. He falls apart like wet tissue paper caught in a storm. He leans forward, honey-gaze darkening as his hands yank on your shirt, dragging your bodies together. 

Needy canines graze against your bottom lip as he kisses you, taut fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt to the point you swear you hear it tear. Everything swirls so quickly you can’t comprehend it. His hands over your body, tongue in your mouth, brine on your lips—then it’s your back colliding with the ground, his knees slotting between your thighs, a whirlwind of desire culminating between your bodies. 

His mouth trails lower, kissing over the valley between your breasts, tracing a line to your stomach and hips. “You’re too good to me, pet. You… are you sure?” 

His tongue questions but his actions have already made up their mind. Fingers curling into your hips, torso sliding along yours—his nose nudges at your fly before his head completely slots between your legs, face pushed up against your sex. You gasp as he breathes in, mind spiraling as his scent overwhelms you into submission. 

“I’m yours for tonight, Kyle,” you assure.  But he’s already lost in you. Mouth against the inside of your thigh, nipping at you through the fabric, he growls when you wiggle, skin too sensitive. “All mine,” he says, and it sounds dangerously close to a promise.

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[hannieween]

the curse | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: demon hunter jeonghan, supernatural au, demon reader › genres: angst, smut (18+) › word count: 4.6k

› 🎧: faux – katie | kiss&tell – ethan low and gen neo

› this one shot is part of my hannieween fest/kinktober special!

› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️

› warnings: smut with little plot, exhibitionism, hate fucking, switch jeonghan, switch reader, humiliation kink, breath play, dirty talk, rough fucking, impact play, sadomasochism, monster fucking, a little bit of corruption kink, creampies, degradation/praise kink, hair pulling kink, no aftercare. pet names: wicked thing, baby, baby demon (hers)

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

› author's note: as always, this is not proofread heh. i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it..... i might write more things like this in the future

the curse

YOON JEONGHAN HAD EVERYTHING A DEMON LOVED TO CURRUPT. He was not the stuffy kind that would cross to the dark side to become evil after a little persuading, no. He was cruel and dangerous.

He had all the traits you would expect from a demon hunter. You had been told all your life to be weary of his kind. But what would life be without a little fun? Corrupting Demon Hunters was delicious. Candy to the soul. If you truly had one.

Jeonghan was sitting with his friends at one of the last tables of the pub. That night, he was not engaging in conversation he was distracted. His gaze was set on you.

You concealed a smile by biting your lower lip. You knew Jeonghan kept coming back to the pub to see you prancing around the tables. There he sat, a beautiful mess, riddled with a tension that he was too blind or too naïve to comprehend.

Hunters were not like regular humans. They could sense demons from a mile away naturally, they could resist the temptations that demons offered as easily as breathing. But that did not take away from the fact that they were mortal. They had a weakness in their being that demons loved way too much.

Even if hunters and demons hated each other by nature, too. Irresistible. That is one word that you liked to use whenever Jeonghan was around. Even if he was perched on his chair, eyes on you as if you were his source of entertainment, sipping on a beer slowly.

With your back turned to him, you felt his gaze piercing your back. It set your nerves ablaze, your blood thickening under your skin, making it prickle with a thrilling sensation. You wondered if he felt the same things the longer he looked at you.

Now, Jeonghan was no fool. He only came here the nights when he was craving for fun. Other times when he is burning with need, he would just go to yours, tail between his legs. Those times were the best.

But that night you knew he was trying to come off as uninterested. That is why he had not talked to you or even made a clear invitation to walk to his table. You kept yourself away from him, letting one of your co-workers serve his friends and him.

Jeonghan drank deeply from his pint, finishing it off with a pleased exhale. He lifted two fingers at one of the other servers, ordering another. You saw it on his face now more clearly, taking the advantage that his gaze had fallen on your pretty colleague. Jeonghan was pissed.

Why was he pissed?

It had taken everything in him not to arrive at the pub that night. He had been resisting the pull he felt toward you for almost two weeks. The root of his anger did not come from the fact that he could not let more than two weeks go by without coming to see you. He has gone even longer resisting you.   

No, the real root of his anger was that every night and every day, his mind was clogged with thoughts of you, like a disease eating away at his brain. Every time he blinked or took a breath you were present in there.

He hated it.

Hunters learned to resist temptation. They invested time, blood, sweat and tears to become stronger, to be lethal to demons. Greatest weapons of the underworld.

You sighed as you set your hands on the countertop of the bar, waiting. You sneaked a look over your shoulder, winking at him once you found his dark eyes on you. Jeonghan blinked away, the tips of his ears red from both the third beer making his blood heat up and, obviously, from being startled by you.

There it was again, he exhaled the taste of beer, he could taste you as he took a breath. Like a drug making his senses go dull. He hated it.

You were a thing he could not make sense of. Yoon Jeonghan was a man of strategy. In this world, he could not afford to give in to his impulses. That gets people like him killed.

But gods, giving in felt so good.

He looked again, also knowing that you kept observing him. With great reluctance, he made a gentle motion towards the back door. It was a simple move, and easy to pass up. But you knew him.

Whereas hunters were cold and calculated, demons were alluring and carefree. Humans repelled demons by instinct, their allure being so strong and strange that humans found demons dangerous. So they would rarely mingle.

But there were exceptions. You were one of them. Jeonghan attributed your ease of blending in the human world to your beauty. Your beautiful smile, your soft hair, your radiant skin. And your eagerness to make friends made you likable. Those things humans felt attracted to.

They did not know just how fucking deadly you were. That was Yoon Jeonghan’s reason for existing, that was why he got paid handsomely: to rid the world of creatures like you, and those he could not kill, he would make them go back into hiding in the underworld.

As soon as you got to the tight, secluded alleyway of the pub, Jeonghan pressed your back against the exit door, pinning you with his body before grabbing your face with one hand, fingers digging into your cheeks before attacking you with a chaste kiss.

You grabbed the hand squishing your cheeks and tossed it off you. “Hi there to you too,” you said.

“No time for that,” he murmured with a gruff tone, you tasted the beer on his tongue. But aside from that, you tasted him.

Demons had more senses than regular humans did. A few more than hunters too. Hunters were superhuman, stronger, faster, and smarter. Demons were all of that too, but they had something hunters did not. Demons held the power to taste souls.

“It’s been a while,” you pointed between hurried kisses, quickly becoming drunk on his tongue, his taste was like nothing else you had ever tasted before. It made your blood thicken, it numbed you, and it gave you pure and uncontainable bliss.

“How many humans have you killed since I last saw you?” he muttered in between rushed, wet kisses, grabbing your wrists to pin them above your head.

“Why, do you care about humans now?” you bit back, grabbing him by the jaw to keep kissing him

Jeonghan cared about humans. Just not too much. His care for humans did not go beyond work-related. They were a necessity.

“How many?” he growled now, inching away from your face.

“One,” you said, pronouncing the syllable as though it were a tragedy. “How many demons have you killed?”

“Three,” he replied flatly.

“Holding yourself back?” you smirked, delighted that he too had been lowering his body count out of confusion.

Usually, you would take three humans per week. They were your source of energy. But you had a rule, not to Jeonghan’s knowing. You limited yourself to humans that were corrupted by transgressing against their kind. You found their sins were too tasty to pass up.

But ever since you started this push and pull with Jeonghan, your body count has decreased in number quite tragically. From taking dozens of lives a week, you barely could take more than three now. And even if Jeonghan does not operate the same way as you do, you satiate your hunger differently.

Jeonghan kills for money, he kills for duty.

“Shut up. Don’t make me take a fourth,” he muttered darkly as he leaned over to plant a slow kiss on your lips. “I’d gladly kill you.”

At that, you laughed. “Sounds fun,” you breathed, nearly swept away by his lips trailing down your jawline. “But are we spicing things up already? We’ve only been doing this for a year…”  

Now, why has Jeonghan not killed you?

“Has it been a year already?” he asked aloofly, bending his knees a little before taking your thighs in his hands, you jumping to meet him halfway.

“Time flies when you’re having a good time,” you quipped, craning your neck for him to plant wet kisses down your throat.

“So they say,” he muttered, drunk off your scent but still lucid enough to come back with witty retorts.

There were plenty of monsters in this world. Creatures far deadlier and scarier than you. Nothing, no one in this world, human or not, wanted you as much as Jeonghan did. Why would he kill you? He has everything he wants with you.

You bristled. “Someone’s coming,” you whispered, your eyes flying open.

Like a mental slap, Jeonghan came back to his senses, pulling his head back and stopping his mouth on your skin with a disgruntled sound. He eased you back onto the ground and the exit door of the pub pushed open, you grabbed his wrist, taking him down the alley and towards the path that led down the forest.

You did not escape one of your coworkers seeing you drag Jeonghan to the sea of trees. If you were a human, it would bring you terrible shame to be seen scurrying off to the forest with a man to have privacy.

But being a demon, you knew no shame. You fed off pride, greed and lust.

Jeonghan slipped his wrist off your grasp as though your touch pained him. You were arriving at a small, secluded area covered by tall and thick trees, so you turned to him, just as he used his hands to push your shoulders.

You fell back onto your ass, but you were quick enough to use your elbows as support on the ground, raising your gaze to his fascinated face.

Jeonghan had used enough strength to break human bones. He followed your body, dropping to his knees between your parting legs. “Shall we do this quickly?” he asked, grinning at your eagerness.

“Why, do you have somewhere else to go?” you arched an eyebrow. You wished your words had been laced with sarcasm.

“Would you mind if I did?” he retorted, a hand snaking to find the hem of your knit sweater, pushing it up your chest.

You wanted to say yes. After hoping for two weeks to see him, it deflated you to think Jeonghan was slipping away from you so quickly. “No, of course not,” you replied, shuddering once he gave your tank top the same treatment he did to your sweater, leaving your tits bare.

“That’s what I thought,” he sighed, dipping his head to wrap his mouth around your left nipple.

You arched your back to his lips, just as he palmed your other breast, making you moan. You had gone longer than two weeks without fucking Jeonghan, but that was in the beginnings of this relationship. If you could even call it that.

That was before fucking Jeonghan became an addiction. Demons fed on sin. You were unsure whether Jeonghan even realized that the reason why you were not feeding on human flesh was because you fed off his lust. His guilt and greed were so delicious that you did not need to reap souls.

You have missed this. But you could not bring yourself to tell him that. However, it showed in your actions, arching your back on the ground, leaves and branches creaking under you as you sank your fingers in his long hair.

Jeonghan swallowed back a sound that sounded like a purr against the plain of your breast. “Are you hungry?”

He knows. You furrowed your brow, watching him lift his head to meet your eyes. “Yes,” you admitted.

“Take your clothes off,” he orders with a breathy tone, as if kissing your skin had robbed him of voice.

You sat up, as he knelt back, taking the chest harness off. He rarely removed his weapons when he fucked you in an open space. Whenever he visited you at your apartment, he would usually just leave his knife at hand, on your bedside table or the table he fucked you on.

You stripped the knit sweater, taking the tank top off, eyeing his skin with curious eyes as he took his black shirt off. Jeonghan was lean and strong, he bore bruises and scars all over his chest and arms. Knife, bite and claw marks.

He was beautiful.

Past the scars and the bruises, past his skin, you saw his soul. It was a fiery, chaotic smoking light. Like a candlelight that dances erratically inside him.

Seeing his soul was intrusive. But so alluring that you did not notice he was looking at you through his heavy set of eyelashes.

“What are you waiting for?” he cocked his head to one side, showing you a mocking smirk. “Do you think I’m going to undress you?”

“You did that last time,” you said between your teeth, but you lied back, lifting your hips to skitter off your pants, kicking your boots off with efficacy.

“Last time?” he frowned pensively, pausing before he placed his shirt aside on the ground. He shook his head lightly. “That was the second to last.”

“I get them mixed,” you shrugged, lying to him with ease.

Jeonghan knew whenever demons told a lie. He had been trained to sense whenever you performed a sinful act. But since everything he did with you was sinful, it was getting harder for him to tell.

He did not take his pants off, you did not ask why. You imagined that it was because he wanted to grasp what little dignity he had left in him. Maybe he did not want to strip completely because that gave him more power over you.

You were utterly bare under him. You did not care, you relished at the sight of him growing hard under his black pants either way.

“Turn over,” he said, gently palming the side of your thigh, urging you to move. “Hands and knees.”

You obeyed him, but not before you got to see him push his pants down, getting his cock out. He was fully hard for you, his veiny shaft standing up completely, his tip reddened and leaking precum at the slit.

You got on all fours, planting your hands and knees on the dirt, bracing yourself for him.

He used his knee to move yours on the ground, spreading your legs open a few more inches. “Mm, you missed me,” he noted with a low coo, running two fingertips on your folds. “So hungry, so wet.”

“Stop teasing me,” you bit back, though you were growing hot on the cheeks.

He found you out. But there was another issue. You were feeding off his lust and greed for you. But that did not explain why he also lowered the amount of demon kills he took. Was he doing it by pure choice?

Did Jeonghan feel guilty?

“Please, just give it to me,” you urged with a whimpery tone. You hated it.

“Alright, I’ll give it to you, you needy thing,” he replied with an empty laugh.

And then his fingers left your folds, you nearly whimpered at the loss. But then his fingers were quickly replaced by his cock, gently nudging its tip against your cunt, you clenched around nothing, but he felt your entrance throbbing with his cockhead.

“Fuck,” he sighed, grabbing you by the hips.

You closed your eyes, biting back a moan as his length started sinking in on you. The feeling was delicious, it made your blood surge and dance beneath your skin. It drew a moan out of Jeonghan, bottoming out on you.

He slid a hand from your hip, caressing your skin along the line of your back to meet your shoulder. He held you in place, a hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder before starting to plow on you, his hard thrusts knocking the wind out of you.

The feeling of his cock sliding on your walls was near-euphoric, the tip nudged at your g-spot quite quickly. Jeonghan knew your body better than you, his grip on you was harsh, holding you firmly as his hips jackhammered against your ass. The sound of skin slapping against each other quickly became an echo in the forest.  

“Jeonghan…” you moaned blissfully, letting the trees surrounding you that he was making you feel like this.

“Hell,” he murmured under his breath.

You muffled a moan in your mouth, fisting the leaves beneath you as if that could support you from crumbling out of sheer pleasure.

Fucking demons was rapturous. They revelled in perversion, they were the epitome of lust. It was playing with death. No one in their right mind would dare to do it, any mortal would either die or be killed trying. The pleasure was almost mind-shattering.

Jeonghan was past giving a fuck. “Where are your horns?” he muttered, thrusting his cock inside you hard and fast, he sounded out of breath.

“I’m concealing them,” you replied, equally as breathless, already toying at the edge of your release. “Thought you didn’t like them.”

“I don’t,” he grunted, letting go of your shoulder, his hand sliding to the middle of your back. “But I want to see them.”

You shuddered as his hand caressed you with a foreign gentleness. “No,” you replied.

“Come on, baby demon. Show ‘em to me,” he rasped, and you turned over your shoulder to see him.

Jeonghan was beautiful, he was tipping his head back, leaving his throat exposed to your gaze. You saw his throat bobbing when he swallowed hard, he was looking at your face, waiting for you to show him your horns.

“No,” you said, smirking devilishly at him. “I might if you ask nicely.”

“Ha. Nice try,” he sighed.

“What’s wrong, notable demon hunter lost his manners?” you gave him an empty laugh.

Jeonghan lifted his hand on your hip, landing it on your ass with a loud smack. “Stop that,” he warned darkly.

The spank was harsh, he used his raw strength to spank you every time. Your eyes stung with tears, but you gritted your teeth through it.

“I might be a demon, but I like indulging in a man with decorum,” you teased some more, enjoying the quiet flames of his soul growing enraged. You liked toying with him without him noticing it.

“Fuck,” he rasped.

Then a hand tangled in your hair, grabbing a fistful to yank you up. You squealed, but he did not stop fucking you hard and fast.

“You’re the one that needs to learn manners, not me,” he growled in your ear, his lips brushing on your earlobe. He released your hair, using his hands to palm your breasts, his fingers lingering on your nipples.

“Fuck, Jeonghan,” you moaned, arching your back for him, enjoying his cock filling your walls nicely, its tip teasing your g-spot repeatedly, unrelentingly.

“You’re close?” he asked, his tone low and raspy, tickling your senses.

You nodded eagerly, closing your eyes to savour the pleasure brimming inside you. You felt him everywhere. Not just his hands on your tits, or his hips meeting your ass, his cock stuffing you full. His touch made your blood surge, it made your chest tighten and heave.

You loved it.

“Come on me,” he mumbled lazily, removing a hand from your breast to meet your hip. His thrusts were growing sloppy, you knew he was close. “Cream all over my cock, baby.”

You hated him.

You hated that he used that word. He knew that it was a weak point for you. You had no choice, you crumbled back against him, your orgasm washing over you in fiery waves. You moaned loudly, nearly screaming but you did not care. The pleasure was so great, it had you moaning until you had no voice, no breath.

Jeonghan followed, dropping his forehead on your shoulder, dumping his load inside you with sloppy thrusts. He had stopped caring long ago about the consequences that might bring. And you had as well.

“You wicked little thing,” he panted, not quite stopping his thrusts yet. “What have you done to me?”

You gave him no reply, instead, you felt him growing hard inside you, pushing his cum back in. He kept fucking you slowly, as if with each thrust he was giving into you again.

What have you done to me, the words echo in your head, making your pulse quicken. No matter how many times he has said this to you, or many other things equally as hurtful. It never failed to break you.   

You used a hand to push his hips off, not caring that his cum slid down your thigh the minute you turned to face him, letting your body fall back onto the ground, bringing Jeonghan with you.

He gasped in surprise, but quickly recovered, positioning his arms around you, framing your head. “Round two?”

“Unless you have somewhere to go,” you smirked.

“I wish,” he replied, though you heard how numbly he sounded. “I wish I could stop wanting this,” he groaned, starting to thrust his hard cock inside you again.

“Careful,” you whispered, the smirk erasing from your face. “I know when you’re lying, hunter.”

His gaze darkened. “You’re not telling me to be careful,” he said. “You’re forgetting that I could kill you.”

“The fact that you haven’t tells me otherwise,” you said, though your tone waned as his thrusts started to become more powerful, you pushed your knees back, letting him drive his cock deeper inside you, drawing out a long moan from you.

A hand clutched your throat firmly, his fingers pressing on your windpipe strongly. You choked, grabbing his wrist to no end, because you let him strangle you.

“Why the fuck would I?” he growled, his face mere inches from yours. “You have the perfect little pussy, the perfect tits, perfect ass… I can’t afford to lose you.”

You blinked your watery eyes, your heart palpitating frantically, your chest constricting at the lack of air.

But you loved seeing that fire in his eyes, loved feeling the guilt pulsating in his veins. He smelled of fear, anguish, greed and lust. He wanted you, he hated you.

“You thought yourself to be special,” he gritted, pushing his cock relentlessly inside you, his fingers choking the life out of you. “You’re nothing to me. Nothing.”

Your lips curled in a smile at the way his body responded upon uttering that sentence. You closed your eyes, nearing the edge of another climax, which you let sweep through you, dancing in your veins.

You cherished the feeling of him inside you, fucking his first load back into you, only to then have it spilled out with each slam of his hips against yours.  

“There she is,” he whispered, his dark eyes glinting.

The pleasure was so brutal, you did not realize you had stopped concealing your horns. His fingers stopped pressing on your throat, but his hand lingered there. You looked at him while his gaze coasted at the sight of the black horns that curved back from the crown of your head.

“Don’t,” he muttered when they faded out of his view.

You exhaled, bringing your horns back.

“Wings too,” he whispered.

Even if you could smell the shame coursing through him, you also removed the concealment from your wings, showing how they had been tucked beneath your body the whole time.

Jeonghan slid a hand to your side, caressing your skin before brushing a knuckle on one of your black wings. You shuddered, hard, arching your back and pressing your tits against his chest.

“Jeonghan,” you mewled, closing your eyes under the thrill of having his touch on you.

“Does this make you come?” he asked a hint of playfulness in his tone making you open your eyes to his wide smile.

“Do it again,” you breathed.

At that, he obediently ran the back of two fingers along the soft membranous skin of your wings, the euphoric feeling bringing out a cry from you. “Yes,” you replied to his question.

Though he did not need verbal confirmation from you, your walls clamped around his cock, making him moan too. “Fuck,” he mumbled. “Such a wicked little thing,” he smiled. “Go ahead, demon. Come again.”

Your cheeks grew hot at the derogatory manner he called you. But you did not follow his command exactly.

Jeonghan switched his hand, propping his weight to the other to touch your neglected wing. He sent you a curious glance, right before using the back of his knuckles to brush your wing.

The touch was so light, so tender against your skin that it sent you to another orgasm. It was so brutal that it brought tears to your eyes, it was so euphoric that it made you scream, your mind going blank.

Jeonghan looked at you, completely mesmerized. “Gods,” he groaned, thrusting his hips sloppily on you, giving you his second load. You shuddered, feeling the ropes of hot cum filling you up.

He moved his hand from your wing, his touch gentle and light as he searched your eyes, cupping your cheek before he gave you a surprisingly sweet kiss. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, looking at you the same way he always did before he said goodbye.

Jeonghan hated this. Jeonghan loved this. Hated it. Loved it.

“I hate you,” he said, his voice reducing to a mere whisper.

It was sickening, it made your stomach churn, but it was not enough to make you wish you were something else. Deep down, you knew that Jeonghan would not want you had you been human.

You gave him a hollow laugh. “I hate you more,” you said, though your tone was devoid of all venom.

Then, the familiar pulsating feeling came. It only happened once in a while. It overwhelmed you with something you both welcomed and rejected. It was like a tight hand gripping your very soul. Jeonghan felt it too, you felt his body tensing up, still connected to yours.

Here it comes. You braced yourself.

Jeonghan retreated, slowly. He used his hand on your lower abdomen to push himself from you, grunting slightly as his cock slid out of your walls. With a heaviness that made his limbs clumsy, he gathered himself, standing up in front of you.

He tucked himself back in, picking up the rest of his things, with a perplexed look. It always happened like this.

He slowly turned his back on you, staggering against a tree, using a hand on it for support, he started panting in panic. You saw his back rise and fall just as you sat up on the ground, wrapping your wings around you protectively.

“Jeonghan, don’t go…” you said, sobs starting to coil in your throat.

But he did not look back.

The pulsating feeling gripped you harder this time, and that was enough to make you choke back a sob. Jeonghan grunted too, resuming to walk away disjointedly until he disappeared in the crowd of trees.

You wondered if this would be the last time you saw him. You wondered if the next time he saw you would be when he finally killed you.

There are plenty of monsters in this world, and plenty of mysteries too. You might be a mystery to Jeonghan, but he was not to you. Finally, you wondered if he suspected that the reason why he could not kill you was the same as why he could get enough of you.

You were what smouldered the fire within him. You were the peace to his chaos. The bond he could never break not even in death, his soulmate. 

› author's note: i've done it! i finally write a fic that's under 10k words!!! aaaaaaaa

i've got nothing to say. i just want jeonghan to split me open with his cock in the middle of a forest

anyways,

toodles (✿◠‿◠)

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✧ READ PART TWO! ✧

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[bikiniarmorbattledamage]

Pornography Addiction

Recently our post on the behavour of Capital-G Gamers, and the problems in the industry that feed into it, attracted a lot of comments advising not to use "porn addict". Some claiming the term was invented by right-wing Christian groups.

It is certainly true that there are various right-wing and/or Christian groups do claim pornography addiction as a reason to revoke basic human rights, further marginalize sex workers, and justify violence against sex workers... that doesn't mean they invented it.

Like most things the radical right relies upon, they co-opted it from a group they have contempt for. Nazis co-opted the Swastika from Buddhism, shitty men on Reddit co-opted involuntary celibacy terminology from a bisexual woman, right-wing pseudo-academics tried to co-opt diversity with their "diversity of thought" campaign... and hateful Christian groups are trying to co-opt expertise on behavioural addictions (sex, gambling, shopping, pornography, etc as opposed to substance addtions) from psychology.

It's worth examining how this is working with pornography and the ways it ties in with the various fashy parties determined to rule the world we all live in.

Actual Pornography Addiction

Actual pornography addiction has its roots in similar addictions such as gambling - it is a situation where the individual becomes obsessed with it as a source of positive feelings, to the detriment of themselves and those around them.

Symptoms of it include a full blown obsession, a loss of interest in other enjoyable activities, spending money needed for essentials on the focus of the addiction, engaging it under risk circumstances (such as while at a job that you really need to keep), suffering anxiety and frustration when unable to indulge, etc.

Importantly, with these kinds of addictions, they are often not really about what what they appear to be. People get addicted sometimes because it's a reliable source of dopamine hits, or because it provides an escape from harsh realities around them, etc. Taking the focus of the addiction away does not fix the underlying cause, and often leads to them finding a substitute addiction.

So, if you say... for the sake of argument, you have a group of people who actively identify as "gooners", remember a porn parody of Lola Bunny as the "real" design, obsess over a single game because it has some sexy skins, make 9/11 jokes and riot when a quality of life feature prevents them from looking up video game girl skirts, and all the points in the original post (including want to fap to a character who is defined by how she's been abused by men)... it's not unreasonable to point out they do seem to be advertising to the world that they are current or aspiring pornography addicts. Particularly since their outrage is rarely about what they actually claim it is about.

How much it applies to any given member of that community is impossible to say, as the whole group is irony poisoned and also obsessed with performative behaviour.

And as a side note, if someone dear to you has similar behavior, whether its in relation to porn, sex, gambling, video games, or anything else - then it is generally considered the compassionte thing to try to get them to realize it and work towards addressing both the addiction and any underlying causes in their life.

Right-wing "Pornography Addiction"

When people who have nothing but contempt for psychology and sex therapists say "porn addiction" or "sex addiction" they are villifying sex workers and objectified persons, blaming them for the violence done against them and completely unrelated ills in society.

They consider it "addiction" if you develop a crush on someone other than your spouse, have normal sexual fantasies, occasionally want to enjoy pornography, are curious about visiting a strip bar or even just masturbate... under any circumstances.

They are closer to anti-pornography than concerned for addiction, and has a long, long history. I would hope BABD followers would be aware we are definitely not anti-porn and we actively support sex workers.

Obviously, the real goal is to give them more control and more avenues to suppress people. This is clearly illustrated in the ways Project 2025 both wants to outlaw pornography and define "transgender ideology" as pornograpy. You can see between the lines, the goal isn't to make people better, the goal is to criminalize the existence of people they look down on.

Also, the solutions they propose clearly don't help anyone and they know that - South Korea has strict anti-porn laws, and the "gooner" community mistake it for a porny wonderland. Again, they don't want to help anyone, they just want to hurt people they do not like.

The harm of co-opting

At face value, it's easy to see why the proposed solution to this is just to say it's not real, it's right-wing nonsense, etc.

But that creates two problems. First it means there's people with a problem that is being denied, and secondly it kind of ignores the real overall goals by missing the forest for the trees.

People whose lives are harmed by behavioural addiction need a framework to be able to address it, and need other people to take it seriously and not just dismiss it as "made up". This applies to gambling, shopping, gaming and pornography.

Think about it, when was the last time you saw a swastika on display as a symbol of positivity? Think "incel" is ever coming back to the LGBTQ people who struggle to find people accepting of them?

Secondly, the reactionaries co-opting it are not "making up" a boogieman. They're not that imaginative and they're much, much more dishonest and malicious.

They're actively spreading misinformation in an attempt to gain for authoritarian power to use to harm people. They're actively trying to undermine the work people have done to help people, stripping the actual research away and placing themselves as the authority on a topic of public wellbeing that they see only as a cudgel.

Because they won't stop at just claiming to be the experts on pornography addiction, they'll claim to be the experts on gambling, drugs, alcohol, gaming, shopping, etc. All their advice will be what's convenient for them, and their friends.

Same way all kinds of psychological concepts get co-opted into torturing people under the claim of conversion therapy (which does not and has never worked, in any capacity), often in the name of profit as well as oppression.

So my recommendation is be less concerned about the term appearing, and more concerned about whether it is in the context of warning people their obsession is harmful - or just trying to trick people into agreeing to authoritarian control.

-wincenworks

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 20

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, slight sexual content and language, cheating, so long for no reason Wordcount: 12.3K A/C: guys i don't know if this chapter is giving what i wanted it to give so if you hate it ntm on me ok? (this is me asking for reassurance...) anyway live reactions always welcome, ty for being patient!!

-

London

“My feet are killing me,” I groan in the back of All Bar One, looking out to the front at what felt like a thousand customers waiting to be served. Em, who reminded me sometimes of a short-haired Paige with her style, pushes a mulled wine to my hand.

“Drink it, quick!” She hisses, looking around while downing hers. Of course it’s not allowed, staff shouldn’t be consuming alcohol. But the night had been long and truthfully I didn’t care about this job enough. So I do the same.

“What the hell,” I nearly spit it out, something stronger burning my throat than just wine.

“I added a little vodka,” she whispers. I let out a laugh followed by a hiss, the bottoms of my feet aching. I couldn’t wait for this shift to be over.

Sometimes I felt like Em was the only person in my life I could be my new self around. Not the overly cautious Izara who never took risks. I got to be fun and do things just for the hell of it. Like I used to in Dallas. Not that we were close, just coworkers. But it felt like she understood me a lot more than everyone else around me.

The brunette groans, covering her face with tattooed hands as Santa Baby starts playing in the bar and I understand the exact reason why. It was probably the tenth time that they were playing the same Christmas playlist, over and over for the last month.

I chuckle at her response, mouthing the words of the song to her.

“Oh God, stop, please,” she complains. But I continue, pretending as if I was the one singing, doing everything to hold my laughter.

“Em, could you go serve the people in table seven please?” The moment is interrupted by our co-worker, clearly frustrated and overwhelmed by the amount of work there was.

I quickly turn to the sink, pretending to be washing dishes. Thankfully, I’m left alone. But the smell of sandalwood lingers in the air, causing my heart to flutter. I can’t help but look around - I’m alone. I guess Em wears the same cologne. It was missing something that made it exclusively Paige though.

“My God…” I mumble to myself, noticing that the new wine glasses were covered in smudgy dots already. Meticulously I wipe them clean one by one, deciding I should do the same to the ones by the bar.

I walk out into the chaos, waiters nearly bumping into each other and bartenders taking orders from the impatient customers. 

“All these wine glasses are stained!” I complain as Em walks by, carrying a tray of drinks. Trying my best to stay out the way, I continue my chore, making sure each glass is polished and shining behind the bar. Or I try to. But there it is again, sandalwood. And the feeling of being watched.

Raising my gaze, I don’t need to look far to find the source. She’s already staring, those familiar blue eyes boring into me. By the door, standing with flushed cheeks and sleeked back hair is undeniably Paige.

It’s the last place I ever expected to see her. Yet it doesn’t take any time for me to process. Like somewhere deep inside I was always waiting for her to appear.

I put the wine glass down. I don’t have time to overthink my reaction, or what might be okay and what might not. Because I’m already crossing the bar to close the distance. I don’t care who was watching. I collide into her arms, embracing her like I had been dying to ever since I left Dallas.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins too loud for any emotions to come through. All I hear is my heart thumping in my ears, and Paige’s trembling breath as she wraps her arms around me and pulls me in. Familiar and comforting. A homesickness I never noticed before melts away, lifting a load off my shoulders. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, only noticing I’m tearing up when I hear my own voice shaking.

“Izzie,” Paige sighs into my hair, running her fingers up and down my back. As if to figure out if it was really me. 

I’m not able to pull back or let go, afraid she might disappear if I do. I don’t know if I’m hallucinating or in a dream, maybe I’ve officially gone crazy. But if this madness means I get to feel her this way, I don’t want to be sane.

We stand there for minutes, hours - I couldn’t tell you. Time stopped mattering. I feel the way her chest expands into me as she fills her lungs with air, her fingers rubbing my back. I finally pry myself off of her. I need to see her face.

She looks just like she did in my dreams. The same Paige that was in Dallas, now at my doorstep. 

”Hey,” she mouths, barely a whisper. Paige’s eyes are soft with a hint of sadness, glossy from the single tear pooling in the corner of her eye.

”Why are you here?” I ask bewildered. We’re still holding hands, her long fingers entangled with mine. They’re cold against my skin.

”I just,” she starts and finally looks away from my gaze. For a fleeting moment I fear something bad has happened, why else would she be here.

”I just wanted to tell you Merry Christmas.”

I don’t know what to say, still in shock by her sudden appearance. It feels like it’s been forever since I last heard her voice, but also as if it’s been no time at all.

”Merry Christmas,” I murmur back. ”H-How did you fi-”

”I heard you work here again, just took a chance I guess.”

I’m about to open my mouth again when my manager taps me on the shoulder, telling me to get back to work.

”Shit,” I mumble under my breath, way too full of adrenaline to finish my shift.

”What time you getting off?” Paige asks. I still can't comprehend she’s here.

”20 minutes,” I say, remembering again that I was at work and it certainly was not the time to be catching up with my ex-girlfriend. ”Will you wait?”

”Of course Iz,” she squeezes my hand one more time. Like it pains her to let me go even for a moment.

”I’ll bring you an apple cider, yeah?” I ask, letting go of her. My skin feels as if on fire, I forgot how her touch used to make me feel.

I head back behind the bar, still in shock. I can’t believe she’s here. My mind seems to be moving at a million miles an hour. I can’t tell how I feel. Flashbacks of last summer, the dingy hotel, the corridors of College Park, drive thru ribs and her lips on mine.

My hands shake as I grab a mug, pouring apple cider into it. Em comes up from behind me, glancing over my shoulder at the blonde athlete sitting at a corner table alone.

”Holy shit, is that-”

”Paige Bueckers,” I sigh, biting my lower lip.

-

”Okay, ready to go,” I tell the blonde, sipping the drink and scrolling her phone. She glances up at me from her seat, and smiles. The blue of her eyes is so much more vibrant than I remembered.

”Never seen you in a trench coat before,” she grins.

”Well,” I chuckle, wrapping a scarf around my neck. ”Doesn’t really suit Dallas weather does it?”

”Guess not,” she says awkwardly as we make our way out together. 

The early evening has brought young couples and tourists looking for a good time to Leicester Square, walking around for a bar to slip into. The christmas music coming from the market is fading into a street performer’s rendition of Wonderwall by Oasis - just slightly off-key. The air is cold enough to see my breath linger in the air.

”So,” I start. ”Do you wanna go look around the Christmas market?” I ask.

”Yeah, bet,” she answers. And I can tell she feels as awkward as I do.

In silence we walk to the entrance and slide into the packed crowd circling the stalls. We stop to look at some magnets and keychains and other trinkets for tourists. Paige is glued to my side, scared we’ll get separated in the herd. I can feel my heart thumping in my ears, dying to find something to say. 

But what do you say to someone you’d been missing for months? Someone you abandoned? Someone you have so much history with? I don’t know. I want to ask why she’s here, but I doubt that’s a good place to start.

”When did you land?” I suddenly say. Paige lets out a deep breath, clearly unsure of what to talk about.

”A few hours ago,” she answers. We go quiet again, until she opens her mouth to speak.

”So, erm, how you been?”

“Um,” I start. I didn’t know what would be appropriate to say. Should I explain to her about the week I spent sobbing after flying home? Or about the nights I jumped awake to check if she had texted me purely out of habit? What about her birthday that caused me to lie about being too sick to leave bed because I was utterly far too depressed to move a single muscle? No, she should not know any of that. No reason to dwell on something that’s been put behind us. We ended the moment I dropped that letter through the mailslot. 

“I’ve been okay, trying to find a job,” I mumble, smiling awkwardly. “I mean something other than… yeah.”

“I gotchu,” Paige answers just as uncomfortably. “No luck?”

I shake my head. Both of us investigate a ceramic Big Ben decoration like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. I missed the comfort I felt with her, the laughs and the easy silence - much different from the one between us now like a wall. In silence, I watch Paige’s bright red hands touch a magnet carefully.

“Aren’t you cold?” I ask. “Where are your gloves?”

“Ion have any,” she admits, squeezing her hands into a fist. “It’s fine, they’re not that cold.”

Instinctively without further thought I reach over and wrap my hand into hers. Ice cold and freezing.

“Paige,” I gasp, warming up her hands between mine as the crowd pushes past us. “We need to get you inside.”

“I’m good here,” she mumbles, but I can feel her shaking. Whether from the cold or my touch I’m not sure. “Or you wanna go and maybe grab sumn to eat?”

I feel torn. On the other hand seeing her felt like a weight lifted off my shoulders. My Paige in my city - it felt special. But it also hurt. Every time I imagined her here with me it was… different. We weren’t talking to each other like strangers. I felt confused.

“Why are you here Paige?” I ask again, my voice going quiet. Her eyes soften but they avoid me, opting out to stare at a couple by us picking up Christmas decorations from a stall.

“I got your message, and I just wanted to see you,” she says simply, biting down on her lower lip bashfully. “Is that so bad?”

No. It’s brave. Braver than I ever was. She always had more courage. But the adrenaline of her arrival was beginning to pass, and I could feel it subsiding, letting way for the feelings - the fear.

“No,” I sigh, for the first time daring to look straight into her face. Just like I remembered, like my mind had painted and burned it into my head. “But I promised my parents I would be home for dinner. Would you like to join?”

-

The distance and time had done something unexpected. Under the hush of the things left unsaid, behind both our backs, it had built a wall - tall as the snow-covered pine trees back in Connecticut. Izara feels it as much as I do, because she’s filling the uncomfortable silence instead of letting it settle as she usually would as we take a cab to her parents’ home.

“Wait, did you get to take the tube yet?” She asks me. I’m sitting on my hands, trying to bring back the sensation the freezing breeze had taken.

“The tube?” I chuckle.

“Oh right, the subway,” she mocks in an American accent. She sounds a lot more English now than she ever did in Dallas.

“Ohhh,” I laugh carefully, looking out of the window into the traffic. The cars were much smaller here. “I took one to Covent Garment.”

Izzie lets out a genuine laugh, causing butterflies to release in my gut. I don’t know what she’s finding funny and quite honestly I don’t care. Suddenly every day I spent without hearing her laughter feels like it was for vain.

“You mean Covent Garden, Paige,” she giggles, hiding behind her hand. I rub the back of my neck as we curve to a neighbourhood I can tell is boujee. Pure white townhouses follow one another the entire street’s length, black iron fencing decorating the paths to the stairways, all marble and arched windows. It’s then I realise I was not prepared to meet Izzie’s family at all.

I’m jetlagged and tired, and my outfit definitely was not the ‘meet the parents’ kind I always imagined I would be wearing. No, not at all. Instead I’m wearing black cargos and a grey sweatshirt. And I probably don’t smell fresh either.

“I’m kinda feelin’ like this is a bad idea,” I admit, chewing on my nails. The girl beside turns to me, green eyes filled with empathy. Lord, I swear they look even more vibrant here in London in the midst of all the grey.

“They’re not that bad,” she tells me. But I remember all the stories I had heard of her parents and their unrealistic expectations. So I stare at Izzie, raising my brows.

“Look, I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to meet a friend of mine from America.”

A friend. I can do that. I can be a friend. If that’s what it takes.

“Just be your charming self,” Izara smiles as the cab comes to a halt in front of one of the jet black doors. I climb out after her, cursing at myself for not opening the door for her.

“Hellooo, I’m home and I brought a visitor!” Iz calls out as we enter the narrow entryway. My stomach twists as rapid footsteps run down the steps with heavy thumps, Kiran’s mouth falling open the second he sees me.

“No way!” He yelps and strides over with a dap and a warm hug. I pat him on the back, smiling too. My shoulders immediately drop knowing I would have someone here that was definitely on my side. “Paige Bueckers in London.”

”Why didn’t you tell me?!” Kiran asks his sister who’s grinning from ear to ear. They looked so similar yet everything about Kiran was softer. I only got to see Izzie like that a handful of times, which was a lot more than others got.

”I didn’t know, she just showed up!” Izzie laughs. It’s the first time I realise that she’s truly glad that I was here, even if things between us felt weird.

”What is everyone shouting for?” A woman walks in, looking much like Izara if it wasn’t for the faint lines branched out in the corner of her eyes. It’s as if looking twenty years into the future, and my heart flutters. How badly I want to know Izzie when she looks like that, or when she’s old and grey.

”Mum, this is Paige. From America.”

The woman immediately brushes through her hair and smooths over her sweater - just like Izzie. I shift awkwardly between my legs, under her intense gaze.

”My apologies, I wasn’t prepared for guests,” she chuckles, letting me know she liked surprises just as much as her daughter did. ”This is Paige?”

”Hey Mrs. Chopra, nice to meet you,” I smile and reach out my hand for a firm shake. I thought I’d be more nervous but the last 24 hours had been such a whirlwind I don’t think anything could shake me now. ”I’m sorry to just barge in like this.”

”Nonsense,” she hums, green eyes staring at me in that calculating way Izara’s did - not unkind but just a little wary. ”We’ve heard so many stories about you.”

Oh. My blue eyes flick to Iz, who’s acting as if her cheeks aren’t burning red.

”You were a good friend to Izzy-Roo here,” her mom smiles.

”Mum, stop,” Iz groans lightheartedly but I can tell she’s embarrassed. The corners of my mouth lift at the nickname.

”I like Izzy-Roo,” I repeat, eyeing the shorter girl. She rolls her eyes. Fuck I missed her.

”I will quite literally book you the next flight home,” she threatens me.

”Oh so you want me to go?” I ask. Her face softens, just for a fleeting moment.

Iz shakes her head, green eyes locked in mine. ”No.”

I can tell she means it. And for now that’s enough reassurance for me.

“I trust you’re hungry?” Izara’s mother asks, walking us all into the kitchen. 

The house is beautiful, tall ceilings and archways but still narrow in the way English homes tend to be. The walls are white, but the home is anything but bare or minimalistic. The colourful fabrics, rugs and artwork bring the space alive, lush green plants growing here and there in expensive pots. The hallway leads to an open kitchen with a large marble island, and a big pot bubbling away on the stovetop.

“This house is gorgeous,” I say, doing my best to shy away from words like “sick” or “crazy”. “No wonder Iz didn’t like her place in Dallas.”

“Oh yes I like lots of personality,” Mrs. Chopra smiles, stirring the pot mindlessly. “None of this black and white modern nonsense.”

“Worse. The apartment was grey all over,” Izzie scrunches her nose, patting a seat next to her by the kitchen island. Awkwardly, I shuffle to her. The stool seems to creak as I sit on it, making me cringe.

“See Izara? Things are so much better here at home where you belong,” Her mother lectures, turning to face us both. “No offense Paige.”

“None taken,” I answer, ignoring the deep sigh that spills out of the girl beside me. Guess she had heard many lectures of her move ever since she came home.

Kiran walks to the pot and stirs it, other hand reaching into the covered plate beside the stovetop and pulling out a piece of naan. Or it’s about to, when their mom slaps his hand away. It’s enough to sting, the boy letting out an annoyed hiss.

“Where’s dad?” Kiran asks, rubbing his hand.

“Working late,” their mom answers. “He works very hard,” she’s clearly talking to me now. “Wants our children to be just like him.”

“Well Izzie definitely worked really hard in the States,” I reply, doing anything to keep the conversation going.

“I’m sure, she’s always been a hard worker. But this basketball nonsense never made sense to me.”

“Mum,” Izzie warns. I can tell she’s getting frustrated, ears turning red with embarrassment.

“Oh no not for you Paige, for my daughter here,” she waves around with the wooden spoon in her hand. “I’ve heard from my children that you’re quite good.”

“Quite good is a bit of an understatement,” Kiran chimes in, leaning against the counter. The older woman turns back to us once more, setting down the wooden spoon.

“Kiran used to play, you met Kiran when he visited, didn’t you?” She asks, patting her son on the shoulder with a certain gleam in her eye I can’t read. “I know I raised him and perhaps I’m biased but he’s quite nice and handsome. And very single!” She winks at me.

“Mum!” Kiran and Iz yell in unison, and I bite down on my lip to kill the smirk forming on my lips.

“Oh I’m just saying, you’re not dating anyone are you Paige?”

“Please shut up,” Kiran groans into his hands, earning a smack on the back of his head.

But Iz swallows loudly, eyeing me curiously. She wants to know just like her mother does.

“No, I’m not ma’am,” I chuckle easily. ”Kiran’s a good friend. But I got some friends.”

“You don’t want a handsome boyfriend?” She asks. I’m finally understanding what Izara meant by describing her mom as pushy.

“Mum, please stop,” Iz complains, red in the face.

Kiran is laughing out loud, his head thrown back as he cackles. I cover the lower half of my face, trying to remain polite. “Mum, I don’t think I’m her type,” Kiran chuckles.

“You don’t like British men?” She asks, amused but confused by everyone’s reactions.

”I don’t think she has anything against Brits,” Kiran teases.

“Okay, this conversation is officially over!” Izara yelps, hopping down from her stool and mouthing the word ‘sorry’ to me.

-

Dinner is spent around the table in polite conversation that kept fading into awkward silences only interrupted by the sound of cutlery clinking together. Izara’s mom’s eyes were glued to the way I handled the fork and knife as we ate, giving me a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. I always thought Izzie had joked about how I “ate wrong”. I guess she was right. I fumble with the knife, in the end just deciding to put it down for everyone’s sake.

Still, despite the awkwardness, it felt weirdly normal to be sitting at the same dinner table with her family. Like the past five months never happened. Except it did, evident in the way my hands were itching to touch her, wanting to brush against her knee under the table, entangle with her fingers, stroke her hair. But I knew I couldn’t yet. It would have to be just right, every detail. None of that messy shit from last summer. No, I needed to show her what it could be like. If she just came back with me.

“So, Paige, what are your plans for Christmas?” Mrs. Chopra asks, which makes me realise I hadn’t even thought of that. My first Christmas not spent with family, and it didn’t move me one bit. Because at least I was here.

“Uh, ‘m not sure,” I admit.

”Bro you have to come over,” Kiran gasps excitedly with a mouth full of food earning yet another smack, this time on the arm.

”Of course you’re welcome to stay with us,” Mrs. Chopra echoes. I glance sideways to Izzie, sitting beside me, sipping on a glass of water. I didn’t want to cross any boundaries or force myself into her life - though, I guess you could argue I already had by flying here. 

”I’m sure Izara would love having her friend over.”

The girl smiles but something’s missing, focused on pushing her food around with a fork. Maybe I had misread the signs of her being happy. She had always been hard to read

”Yes, why not,” she murmurs. But I’m not sure she means it. ”Let me clear up the table,” she mumbles almost to herself and begins grabbing everyone’s plates, hers half-eaten.

”I’ll help,” I stand too, grabbing glasses and following her into the kitchen. The warm, gentle hue of the dining room changes into harsh overhead lighting. We’re left alone, the discussion in the dining room turning into a muffle. Wordlessly Iz begins to scrub plates under running water, piling them into the dishwasher one by one. I hand her a glass, but she takes it without making eye contact - afraid it might just be the thing to tip something over.

”Did you see the Love Island finale?” I ask after a while, leaning my back against the counter. She laughs awkwardly, shaking her head, a sad look on her face just for a second.

”No,” she murmurs, biting down on her lower lip. I feel stupid.

”Oh,” I answer, chewing the inside of my cheek. I’m not sure if she wants me around at all. ”Iz, I don’t gotta come over for Christmas.”

She sighs, her shoulders softening. ”No Paige, it’s not that,” she breathes out, putting the plate from her hands into the sink. She turns to me, green eyes flickering with something I could only describe as confusion. 

”I’m glad you’re here. I just need to talk to you about something.”

I furrow my brows taking a step closer to her. She avoids my gaze, but her chest heaves higher as I approach. I squeeze my hand into a fist to fight the urge to touch her. Fuck, I can’t help it.

My fingertips brush against her forearm only for a fleeting second. My free hand grips onto the kitchen counter beside me, knees weakening as I feel the warmth of her skin even softer than I remembered. Izzie’s breath hitches, green eyes flickering up at me. For a second I think she glances at my lips.

”Talk to me Iz,” I murmur, my voice hoarse and deep. She takes a deep breath, shoulders rising as she opens her pretty lips to speak.

Ding-dong

The sound of the doorbell cuts through the air. The moment’s gone, I can tell.

”It must be my dad,” she sighs, taking a step backwards. ”Why didn’t he have his keys?”

I follow behind her into the entryway. But it’s not Izara’s dad. No, not at all. In the doorway stands a man, light brown curls neatly coiling at the top of his head. He’s holding a bouquet of bright red roses, a wide smile on his face and grey eyes beaming. I know immediately who it is.

Blood rushes into my ears. I feel furious, my chest tightening as my body catches up with my brain. For some reason it felt like a personal betrayal. I fought for her so hard, and this asshole hurt her in a way that changed her forever - and still gets her? I feel sick.

”Jasper, what the hell are you doing here?” Izzie asks with an angry whisper, stepping closer. His smile falls, gaze flickering from the girl to me.

”I thought I’d pop in for dinner,” he mumbles, clearly as confused as I felt. ”Who’s this?” He points at me.

Iz looks at me over her shoulder, clearly overwhelmed by the situation.

”It’s uh,” she starts, trying to pick her words carefully. ”It’s Paige, my friend from the States.”

Friend. I had heard that word one too many times today. I needed to get back to my hotel, sleep and think this whole thing over. This was a horrible idea.

”Yeah, nice to meet you,” I force a smile, turning to Mrs. Chopra. ”Thank you for having me! Dinner was really good, your home is beautiful.”

She meets my smile.

”I better head out, jetlag y’know,” I murmur, putting my shoes back on and pushing past both Izara and Jasper without even looking at the girl.

The air is crisp and the street quiet, the lamps illuminating the darkness. I’m not sure which way to go so I simply turn left. I’d call a cab later, I needed to walk.

But the sounds of urgent footsteps approach from behind me, closer and closer. They’re familiar and known.

”Paige,” she pants out, out of breath from running after me. I stop but don’t turn, unsure whether or not I should.

But I’m left with no choice, because Izzie grabs my shoulders and spins me around. Her eyes are wide and regretful, looking up at me pleadingly. I can’t help the way my heart softens at the sight of her.

”You gotta be jokin’ Iz,” I groan, pointing at the wide open front door 20 feet away.

”I wanted to tell you okay, I did. I just didn’t know how,” she sighs. It’s the most emotion I’ve heard in her voice all day.

”The guy who-”

”I know okay!” She yelps, frustrated and embarrassed. ”I know, but I want to tell you everything. Please.”

I exhale, looking around at the bare cherry trees. ”I dunno Iz, maybe this was a bad idea.”

”No,” she sounds panicked, suddenly gripping onto my hand. ”Don’t go.” My heart flutters, causing me to clear my throat. Her glossed lips glisten in the night. I wonder if she still tastes like strawberries.

”Fuck,” I mumble to myself, covering my face with my hand just for a moment. 

”Just come tomorrow, please,” she begs. ”Come spend Christmas with me… Us I mean.”

My fingers stay entangled with hers. It’s almost enough to just feel her like this. Almost.

I should let go but I can’t. She always had me wrapped around her finger.

-

Christmas Eve morning has left the grass in London covered in a thin frost, teasing the possibility of a white Christmas. The streets are surprisingly busy, filled with cars driving around for last minute bits and bobs before they retreat into their homes for a well deserved rest. Final dusting and hoovering can be seen through the windows left ajar to air out the houses lining the streets of the city. 

Kiran turns down the Michael Bublé song playing in the car as we stop for a red light. He glances at me expectantly.

”If you don’t call her I will,” he simply says.

”I haven’t heard from her since last night! I think if she wants to come she’ll let me know,” I groan, looking out the window instead to avoid him.

”Funny that, I wouldn’t call either if I saw Jasper show up.”

”Haha, really witty,” I say dryly. But he has a point. Not wanting to admit defeat, I discreetly text Paige.

Hey, we’re out looking for a tree. Would you like to come?

The read receipt shows up the moment I send it.

Yeah lemme send my location

I sigh. ”Turn left here, let’s go pick her up.”

”Yesss,” Kiran celebrates under her breath. ”You need to figure things out with her.”

”You just want lifelong access to the league,” I roll my eyes, slight butterflies growing in my stomach as we approach her hotel. 

”Shut it, I’m serious,” he groans. ”I like her. She’s good to you. Better than he-who-must-not-be-named.”

”Voldemort?” I snort out, fixing my makeup quickly in the side mirror, adding lipgloss.

”Might as well be,” my brother murmurs. ”Doesn’t he have a family of his own to bother on Christmas.”

”He’ll only come over for dinner later,” I remind him.

”You have to get along.”

”I don't get it,” Kiran sighs, shaking his head. ”If you love him so much why even invite Paige over?”

I had no answer or explanation. Everything was making me confused. I love Jasper, I really do. But sometimes he didn’t understand me or what I needed at all. Not the same way Paige did. And now that she was here that uncomfortable constant ache at my chest had fully disappeared.

”It’s this one,” I point to the building on the right, ignoring his question. Kiran doesn’t pry, pulling up to the entrance. Soon Paige walks out, in loose pale khakis and a lavender sweater, Nike vest over the fit. Immediately, I smooth over my hair. It was easier not seeing her everyday, because at least I could forget how gorgeous she was. The sight of her makes me let out a breath I never realised I was holding, my chest shifting.

-

We walk among the Christmas trees, Kiran and Paige dragging behind to discuss the last WNBA season. I’m too focused to listen though, scoping for the perfect specimen.

”How about this one?” My brother asks, grabbing one to our right. I eye up and down, furrowing my brows in concentration. 

”Spin it,” I command. It had to be perfectly lush and even everywhere - no gaps or asymmetry. Only the best.

”Bro there’s a gap,” Paige points out to Kiran. Her and I were under a silent contract to act as if nothing happened yesterday, or never. We’re friends now. That’s how we’ll be.

”Paige, you keep doing that and we’re not leaving till New Years,” he groans.

”Like I wouldn’t have seen the gap myself,” I scoff, walking straight ahead for the next contender. The two follow after me with hurried steps as I lead the pack.

And then I see it, the perfect one. My winter boots tap against the concrete as I scurry to it, grabbing the tree with my leather gloves to see it better. 

”I think this is it,” I say to Paige, who’s looking over my shoulder. She takes a step closer, her front nearly pressing into my back. Taunting.

”Oh that’s fire, it’s a Norway Spruce right?” she asks, the heat of her breath warming up my cheek. I had told her about my favourite type of tree. It must have been 6 months ago. ”These ones are more green too.”

”Yeah, like a deeper green,” I repeat too, my voice a little shaky from the pounding of my heart. I can’t believe she remembered. Paige hums, smiling softly.

”Kinda like your eyes,” she says gently. I lift my gaze to her, realising her hand was around my waist. Something about it felt so normal I barely noticed.

A deep blush sets into my cheeks, taking a step away and looking over my shoulder for my brother.

”Kiran!” I shout carefully, seeing the boy jog over, distracted by a tree way uglier than the one I picked out. I guess I inherited all the taste in this family.

”Carry it,” I tell him, following closely as Kiran and Paige drag the tree all the way to the Porsche, the boy complaining and grunting the entire way until Paige had enough and carried it on her own even once we got home.

”Oh bless you!” My mum gushes, watching as Paige drags it all the way to the living room in the back. Her cheeks have turned red from the weight, but she still manages to flash a charming smile to my mum, listening to her instruction on where to set the tree diligently.

“Oh what’s all the fuss,” my father suddenly emerges from his study, stern eyes landing on Paige. His hair is as black as mine, slowly beginning to grey.

“This must be the Paige Bueckers,” He says, voice strong and confident like it always was.

Paige clears her throat, looking just a little nervous - not that anyone noticed, only me. I can tell from the way she’s biting her cheek.

“It’s nice to meet you sir,” she smiles with confidence, shaking his hand. Something about the way she’s holding herself, sure and tall, caused butterflies to erupt all around my abdomen. Even Jasper was afraid of my father. But not Paige.

“You’re quite the player,” my dad grins, pulling his hand back. “Kiran showed me some of your games. Very impressive.”

Paige gleams but shrugs it off with humble ease. “That’s my team, they make me good.” 

“Oh I’m sure there’s some talent and a lot of work involved on your part,” my dad chuckles. Me and Kiran exchange looks. Very rarely was he this warm towards strangers, Jasper was lucky if he even got a dry smile out of him. “It’s okay to give yourself some credit.”

Paige smiles, not afraid to look him right in the eye. “Well I like to think I got a gift from God.”

My father nods, meditating over the words. “Gift from God. I like that.” 

“Do you watch basketball a lot sir?” Paige asks, conversation flowing between them easily.

“Oh dear, no,” he laughs in response. “Unfortunately I’m more of a golf man.”

“You play?” The blonde asks, raising her brows.

“Absolutely, I’ve tried taking these two to the course but apparently it’s too dull for this generation.”

Paige grins proudly. “I play.”

My father raises his brows too, surprised. “You do?”

“Yes sir,” she nods. And I know she’s got him on her side.

“Anyone who plays golf can call me Rohan,” he smiles, leading us to the kitchen. Not even Jasper calls him that. “I think it’s time for a drink.”

“Dad it’s one in the afternoon,” Kiran laughs as my father pulls out a bottle of white wine that’s been chilling in the fridge.

“Certainly, and this is the only way we’ll get through your mother’s fussing today,” he murmurs, pouring us all a glass. I glance up at the blonde who’s standing beside me, shoulder pressing into mine. I know only too well that she doesn’t like wine.

“You don’t need to drink it,” I murmur quietly but Paige shakes her head with a sly smirk. 

“Ion mind. Been practicin’” she grins and to my surprise, takes an easy sip of the wine without shivering or scrunching her face. Impressed, I do the same.

“I made a list of everything that needs to be done before dinner,” my mother barges in, doing a double-take when she sees us already drinking in the early afternoon. She places the long list down onto the counter, causing Paige to glance at me and snicker.

“What?” I whisper, feeling her wrap her arm around my shoulders as she whispers into my ear.

“You’re just like her, huh?” She laughs quietly. But the way her breath tingles against my ear has me too flustered to focus on the words. My eyes roam her face just a moment too long, stuck in a memory of watching her this close in the past.

“Uhm, I guess we should get to it,” I murmur, cheeks burning as I take another sip of the wine and open the fridge to start preparing food for the evening - and to get further away from her.

-

It is the fourth time I’ve taken the lights off and put them back onto the tree, just to appease Izara and her mother, who I had found to be just as detail-oriented as her daughter. Each time something was wrong, a gap here, too many bulbs clustered there. It’s okay, I don’t mind. I would do it a hundred times over just for her.

“Oh let the poor girl out of her misery,” Rohan chuckles, carrying down a box of decorations for the tree - boujee glass ornaments, each packed separately. I back away from the tree, looking at it from afar. A slight gap on the right. Before anyone can say anything, I reach over and fix it. Not that I cared, but I knew how important it was for Izzie.

“Oh that’s perfect,” Iz murmurs, absentmindedly rubbing up and down my back as a thank you. In the midst of the holiday anticipation and fuss it was easy to fall back into old habits, so instinctual we couldn’t stop them. Last night’s blow-up had shattered the wall between me and Izzie, leaving only the comfort of who we used to be.

One by one, we put up the ornaments evenly around the tree, golden tinsel wrapped around it. 

“My bad,” I murmur, cheeks flushed red when we reach for the same one. I hand it to Izzie who offers me a gentle smile, but she can’t quite reach the empty branch. I help her, placing it down carefully. Her fingertips are cold against mine and it kills me not to wrap her into me to keep her warm.

“Not there,” she murmurs, shaking her head at Kiran who was placing the ornaments in the wrong spots in Izara’s opinion. I watch closely, smiling to myself as she rolls her eyes as if she minded having to do it on her own. I knew better, she liked it her way. The jetlag and exhaustion from travelling felt like a distant memory now, subsided by her. 

A soft chuckle escapes my mouth when a piece of golden tinsel hangs from her dark hair, catching the light from the tree.

“What?” She asks, not amused. Decorating the tree is a serious business for her. 

“You got tinsel,” I murmur, reaching over and brushing my hand into her locks. They’re as smooth and silky as I remembered, straightened for the day. The piece falls off but I linger, our eyes meeting. Her plump lips part in a shaky exhale, long lashes fluttering fast. She feels it just as I do.

“Thanks,” she answers with a trembling voice, pulling back when their mother walks in.

“Add these too,” she smiles mischievously, handing Iz two more ornaments - angels with a picture of a baby Kiran and baby Izara.

“Absolutely not,” Iz complains, but I’m fast, grabbing the one with her picture in my hands. There she is, not older than five-years-old, smiling wide at the camera. Her cheeks are round and eyes not as sharp as they are now, but it’s undoubtedly Izara. Long lashes dark and brows defined even as a baby.

“Look at you,” I gush, chuckling to myself. “Oh my Gosh,” I murmur, smiling from ear to ear. She has to be the most beautiful child I’ve ever seen.

“Give it back,” she complains, trying to grab it. I lift it out of her reach, tilting my head back to look at it closer.

“Love the fit,” I tease, not letting her get a hold of it. She jumps for the ornament, but I smirk down at her arrogantly keeping it just out of her reach - causing Rohan, who’s sitting in the corner and reading, to laugh at us. “This gotta go somewhere everyone can see.”

“I hate you, stop,” she giggles loudly, giving up jumping and watching as I hang it front and centre, just out of her reach.

“Nah, Ion think you do,” I grin, glancing at the picture once more causing my heart to flutter.

Kiran proudly hangs his right beside it, smiling to himself. “That’s a handsome fella,” he beams.

“Guys, we’re on a schedule!” Izzie reminds us, kneeling down to look for the tree topper. I can’t help it when, just for a second, my eyes drift to the curve of her ass. Even in the knitted pants it’s enough to make me swallow hard. I force my gaze to the ceiling, fighting the urge to keep looking.

Iz pulls out a twinkling, golden star, looking up to the top of the tree - way out of everyone’s reach. 

“I’ll get a ladder,” Kiran murmurs.

“You know what I used to do when you were small,” Rohan interrupts, standing up from his chair with a grunt. “I used to put one of you on my shoulders and do it that way.”

Kiran eyes his sister up and down and then shakes his head.

“She’s way too heavy,” he groans, immediately taking a step back. Izara’s eyes widen and she throws an extra bit of tinsel at her brother.

“I’m not heavy!” She gasps, offended.

“She really isn’t,” I add, not thinking it through. Kiran’s lips turn into a grin at my revelation, Mr. Chopra watching us with an amused expression. I felt the need to impress him.

“Get on,” I say, patting my shoulders.

“No, I’m getting the ladder,” Izzie complains.

“Oh c’mon Iz, just do it,” I plead, fluttering my lashes at her. It seems to work, because she climbs onto the couch and waves me over. With a struggle, she throws her legs over my shoulders and I lift her easily.

“See Kiran?” I smirk. “Just gotta lift a little more lil bro.”

Offended, Kiran’s jaw falls open and he glances at his dad, like he should argue. But Rohan merely shrugs.

“She has a point,” he teases. But Izara is not as amused as everyone else, her eyes squeezed shut and legs shaking as she holds onto my hair. I don’t mind though, the way she pulls and yanks on it sending shivers down my spine.

“Stop talking and hurry,” she squeals, “I’m gonna fall!”

“No you won’t,” I assure her, tilting my head back to look her in the eye. “I gotchu okay?”

She nods slowly, easing her grip on my head. “Okay,” she sighs, as I walk to the tree, my hands gripping her thighs tightly. Carefully, she sets the star down, making sure it’s straight and perfect before pulling her hands back.

“How does it look?” 

But I’m not looking at the tree, my eyes are glued to the reflection of her in the mirror, the way her long hair flows down her back, her long legs dangling on my shoulders.

“Perfect,” I murmur, carefully letting the girl down.

“I remember one year the star was crooked and this one had a meltdown over it,” Mr. Chopra rubs his daughter’s shoulder affectionately. “She must’ve been 4 years-old.”

I laugh, nudging Izzie gently. “Yea right, she still would.”

“Quit,” Iz warns both me and her dad. He raises his brows at me, backing away.

“That usually means it’s best to sit down and shut up,” he jokes.

“Yeah, I noticed,” I agree, glancing at the tree. It looks straight out of a catalogue, tall and twinkling. The warm lights emanate from it, painting the white walls of thr living room, red and gold ornaments decorating the green branches.

My eyes flicker from the tree to Izara. To my surprise she’s not admiring it, no, her eyes are watching me closely, her expression softening. Yet, when our gazes meet, she looks away.

“I should go get ready,” she murmurs, and leaves me downstairs with her family.

-

“Jasper, welcome, happy Christmas,” Rohan says dryly as he lets the man in. Jasper, dressed in a maroon sweater, is heaving large Harrods bags filled with presents indoors.

“Merry Christmas sir,” he says with a smile, greeting Kiran with a polite nod. Just the smirk on his face was enough to get me fuming, but I take a deep cleansing breath instead. I know if I want to be here I’ll have to make good.

“Ah, you must be Paige,” he goes in for a handshake. I do the same, making sure my grip is firm enough to hurt a little.

“Sorry for running out yesterday,” I simply say. “Jetlag.”

“All good! I’m excited to hear about Zari’s time in America a bit more,” he says. I can tell he’s charming, easy-going and polite. No wonder he had everyone fooled. But not me. “She doesn’t talk about it much.”

That stings. Like our time didn’t matter enough to talk about - or maybe it mattered too much.

“Speaking of Zari, where is she?” Jasper asks.

“Upstairs getting ready,” I answer. “I’ll go get her.”

I climb to the second floor of the three storey house, carefully peeking into rooms behind white doors to look for her. At the end of the hallway, behind double doors, I finally find her, knocking on the panel left ajar.

She’s sitting by a vanity, putting on mascara, a plain black dress laid out on her double bed. Everything is neatly organised, a large schedule hanging off the wall with her handwriting all over it. It’s definitely her room, a blown glass lily decorating her bedside table.

Iz lifts her gaze from the mirror to me, smiling softly. From downstairs I can hear Mrs. Chopra squealing with joy at Jasper, fussing over presents and how handsome he looked. I close the door behind me, shutting it all out.

“Jasper’s here, just wanted to let you know,” I tell her. The curve of her lips turns into a straight line. “He was asking ‘bout you.”

She stays quiet for a while, turning back to the mirror and swiping a deep maroon blush to her cheeks. She’s paler than I’m used to.

“My dad likes you,” Izara murmurs, eyes locked on her reflection.

Deep inside I feel a little victorious. “He’s cool,” I smile, sitting awkwardly at the end of her perfectly made bed.

“So, this your room?” I ask, looking around. It’s surprisingly plain for a childhood bedroom.

“Yup, always been,” she presses her lips together, making sure the gloss is spread evenly before getting up from the stool. Iz walks over and smooths the dress, glancing at me. “I like your sweater.”

She runs her manicured hand over the collar, fixing it like she used to. I hold my breath, fearing if she sees me breathe too heavily she’ll pull back.

“Thanks,” I murmur. “I like the dress,” I add. Izzie presses her lips together, like she always did when she was thinking.

“I’m sorry my mum put you to work today,” she says, her deep, silky voice softening. 

“Oh Ion mind,” I answer. Her hand is still on the sleeve of my sweater. We both glance at it, my eyes nearly fluttering shut at her gentle touch. But Jasper’s laughter roars through the walls, all the way up the stairs into her room. I clear my throat, sitting up from the bed.

“I’ma let you get dressed,” I mumble. But Izara stops me, grabbing my wrist.

“Wait,” she says. “Can you zip me up?”

Gulping, I nod, turning my back to her as she undresses. From the corner of my eye I see the knitted pants and matching sweater being placed on the bed, mind going dry at the thought of her behind me in matching lingerie, just one layer too much between my mouth and her. How easy it would be just to pull them to the side. I wonder if the set is white or black today, satin or cotton.

“Paige?” She interrupts my filthy thoughts. I turn to find her wearing the dress, turning her back to me. A deep purple lace bra peeks out as she moves her long hair to the side. I remember that very set, it was one of my favourites. It felt almost cruel that she was wearing it now and letting me know.

“Y-yeah,” I clear my throat, voice shaking more than I’d like. I approach her, fingertips brushing through the strands of dark hair and pushing them to the side. I try to ignore the way her breath hitches when my fingers find her zipper, brushing against the soft skin of her back. But it’s nearly impossible to ignore the way I wanted to touch her much more than this. 

The room feels tense and heavy, my lips parted and head spinning as I pull the zipper up slowly. But no matter how long I try to linger, the moment is over too fast, the purple lace disappearing far too soon. Izara spins around, smoothing over the fabric. The dress fits her perfectly, hugging the curves of her body just enough to leave me wanting more.

“You look beautiful,” I murmur, eyeing her up and down. She blushes, her chest heaving like mine is. “You should wear the Louboutins with that.”

“Yeah,” she nods breathlessly, grabbing them from a shelf of high heels she had on display. Gently, I take them from her hand, nodding towards the bed.

“Sit down, lemme help,” I tell her, and she seems too lightheaded to disagree, mindlessly walking to the bed. I suppose the distance had made her obedient. I kneel in front of the girl, my big hands grabbing the arch of her manicured foot. My mind is filled with memories of kissing there, or pressing my lips onto her ankle. It pains me not to do that now.

I slide her foot into the shoe, my fingertips lingering on the silky skin of her leg. She shivers, letting out an airy breath. My blue eyes travel upwards from her feet, noticing the way her legs are slightly parted as I kneel on the floor between them. I glance at her thighs knowing it would just take the gentle push of my fingers to move the dress upwards and reveal her core, the purple lace sitting there. I wonder if she’s wet, like I am right now. I’m sure she would be, if I just sucked the tender skin of her inner thigh.

No, she’s already wet. I can tell when my eyes travel from her thighs to her face. Izara’s cheeks are flushed, and eyes heavy and filled with lust. She can’t hide how she’s gulping for air, gripping onto the duvet under her for dear life. Oh God how bad I need her, how I’ve been starved for her for way too long.

My hand still wrapped around her ankle, drags upwards to her calf, and then her knee. Watchful, I read her reactions. She stays still, green eyes locked with mine. But she shifts slightly, parting her legs further. The black dress hikes upwards on her thick thighs, teasing the possibility of seeing her panties if she just spread them wider a tiny bit more. It’s no accident, she knows what she’s doing. It’s not smart, but in the haze of the moment I don’t care. Wetting my lips I lean over and let my mouth press against the inside of her knee.

Izara shivers again, letting out a sigh that could only be described as starving. My hand travels upwards to the hem of her dress. I look up at her pleadingly, for any kind of sign that it’s okay. Slowly, she nods, brows furrowed as she stares down at me. Finally.

I push the dress upwards on her thighs, my gaze dragging down from her face to her torso to finally the purple underwear between her legs. My core throbs when I notice that she is indeed wet - so bad it had spread to her thighs that were glistening and sticky. 

Muffled sounds of footsteps approach through the double doors, making me jump back and get up to my feet. Flustered, Izzie pulls her dress down and slides her foot into the other shoe, standing up tall. Though there’s a trembling to her legs only I could notice as Jasper barges in, all smiles. I want to kill him. The room is thick with silence and the kind of need I swore I’d buried. My hands ache to touch her, to take it further. To do ungodly things and worry about forgiveness for our sin later.

“Hey sweetheart,” he beams, scooping Izara into his arms and kissing her. She kisses back, but her eyes are open wide. I feel sick. “You look stunning.”

“I’ma go see if your mom needs help downstairs,” I murmur, hurrying out of the room and finally feeling like I can breathe again.

-

Paige and I are standing in the kitchen, peeling pomegranates like nothing happened upstairs. It almost felt as if it didn’t - like it was all a dream that I’d had over and over again. I kept stealing glances at her hands, digging into the fruit gently, and cleaning out the seeds, careful not to break them. Somewhere along the past months I had forgotten how it felt to want someone this badly - the ache inside me, the watering eyes, the wetness pooling between my thighs. It had become a type of fantasy of the past that didn’t exist at all in London. Except now it did. Because she was here.

“And I told her, they need to be red roses. Not pink, not yellow, red. Because those are her favourite, right?” Jasper tells a story animatedly to my mother, who’s looking at him with wide, admiring eyes. He’s wrong, they’re not my favourite.

”I mean not to be dramatic but I practically had to fight the florist in Chelsea. Paid double the price.”

He was supposed to be helping too, but instead he’s leaning against the counter and snacking on the fruit we’ve spent the last 20 minutes preparing, talking my mother’s ear off about all the effort he went through ordering assistants around in Harrods to find me the perfect presents, and about his recent promotion.

“Careful,” Paige murmurs beside me, handing me a paper towel before I even realise the juice of the seeds was dripping down my wrist. I pat it dry, smiling at her thankfully.

“I was even thinking of buying Zari a new car,” Jasper gleams, making my mother practically swoon.

“Oh, you’re too good for her. I always say,” she smiles, glancing at me. “Did you hear that Izzy-Roo, a car!”

“I don’t need a car,” I sigh, maybe sounding like a spoiled brat but it was true. I didn’t like driving. “Jasper knows this.”

“Well I can’t drive you around forever sweetheart, I have a job,” he says lightheartedly. My eyes flicker to Paige who drove me around for months, never complaining, going out of her way to make sure I didn’t feel like a burden. If Jasper was just a bit more like her.

“Oh look at the time! I’ll set the table,” my mother gasps, grabbing the fancy plates that were already piled onto the counter.

“I can do it,” Paige smiles, just finishing cleaning up the last pomegranate seeds. She carefully grabs the plates from my mum and begins taking them to the dining room. I stare at Jasper, who keeps running his mouth like an idiot. Every second I was growing more irritated.

“Go help her,” I complain when he notices my glare.

“My goodness, okay okay,” he laughs, carrying a single wine glass into the dining room. Something in me was sure he’d be taking the credit for doing it himself later. And my mom will eat it up.

As night falls on Christmas Eve, we gather around the table to eat. But I was in no Christmassy mood. Something about Jasper’s arrival had shifted the mood for me. It was beginning to hit me all at once - I had gone back to him and I’m not even quite sure why. I wasn’t happy, not really. I was pretending so well that I hadn’t even realised until Paige had arrived. Seeing her, feeling her, touching her - it reminded me of how happy I could actually be, if I just wanted to.

Paige had been an angel, making easy conversation with my father, helping my mum without needing to be asked. It’s like she knew exactly what the room needed, and what I needed before having to say a word. Jasper can come in with all these gifts and gestures and make me feel adored - but Paige, she made me feel known.

“You’re going to eat all that darling?” Jasper asks as I add more gravy onto my plate. I lose my appetite, putting the dish down. Paige glares at the man sitting beside me, like my dad does. He had never warmed up to Jasper.

“Personally, Ion think she has enough,” Paige shrugs, and reaches over to pour more gravy onto my mashed potatoes before doing the same to her plate. My heart flutters as I stare into her, sitting opposite of me, handing the dish to Kiran. Jasper shoots a cold look at the girl, but she merely grins, beginning to eat her dinner.

I gulp the rest of my red wine, ignoring the glares I’m getting from some people around the table. It wasn’t right for the perfect, sensible Izara to be the first to finish her glass. But I wasn’t that person anymore, not since last summer.

Wordlessly, Paige is already pouring me more wine. I’m reminded of the dinner party in Dallas, of all our friends, of the speech, of the way she cared for me like she did now. She always found a way to take care of me - even when I was too stubborn to accept it.

“I think Izzie should give a Christmas speech,” Kiran jokes, knowing how much I despised speeches - especially impromptu ones.

“I’ll throw the ham at you,” I threaten my brother. Paige and my dad chuckle.

“Oh I’m sure Paige would just save you again,” he grins, taking a bite of the food. “The dinner party speech was great.”

”What speech?” Jasper interrupts. We ignore him.

“Nah, not my best job,” the blonde smiles. “Remember the one that-”

“The first night out in Dallas,” I finish her sentence, the corners of my mouth lifting. “That was pretty good.”

“Pretty good? I didn’t even know you,” she gasps.

“Yes, but it was all just a ploy wasn’t it. To get to know me,” I giggle, pointing a fork at her. 

“It worked, did it not?” She teases, a flirty tone to her voice. It feels like an inside joke between just us two, everyone around the table following from the sidelines.

“I suppose,” I laugh. “I remember you forgot my name too.”

“You forgot her name?” My father laughs.

“Yo, I did not forget. I couldn’t hear you,” she says defensively. “I was scared of you.”

Everyone other than Jasper and my mother burst into laughter, my jaw slack as I stare at the blonde, offended.

“Oh, scared huh?” I ask, fighting to hide my giggles. 

“You don’t believe me?” She teases, that smug grin on her face again.

“I wouldn’t call it scared,” I smirk before realising what I said. Thankfully, before anyone registers it, Jasper interrupts the conversation. Like he always did when he felt left out.

“Scary? I thought she was the cutest little thing when I met her in uni-”

But neither me or Paige hear a thing, her eyes scanning me as mine are her. Thinking about the past had us both flustered and regretful. What I would do to go back to those times. To that night I met her. Not to change anything, but to relive it and all those moments after. 

The wine making me bolder, I reach my ankle toward her underneath the table, and rub it against her calf. She exhales and shifts on her seat, and her leg presses back, Jasper’s words a distant echo as we stare into each other knowing something no one else did. 

”You were always reading your books in the library, remember Zari? Didn’t know how to have fun.” Jasper jokes.

”Well,” I murmur. ”People change.”

-

”Are you sure you can’t stay longer?” My mum dotes over Jasper, hugging him goodbye tightly. 

”I wish I could,” he sighs with a smile. He was leaving to spend the rest of Christmas with his family and as much as I didn’t want to admit it I felt relieved. Something about having him and Paige around at the same time felt confusing - like a mixture of who I used to be and who I had become.

Jasper turns to me and before it registers he wraps his hands around my waist and kisses me. I’m caught off guard, kissing back but my eyes remain open. Something about it feels off.

Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe Jasper felt threatened for some reason, but he drags his hand to my butt and squeezes.

”Jasper,” I gasp, pulling back embarrassed. Immediately my eyes lift to Paige, who’s covering the lower half of her face and staring at the ground. Guilt washes over me, for what? I’m not sure.

”Pardon me,” Jasper grins, waving bye to my horrified dad. ”Happy Christmas.”

I close the door behind him, looking out the window at his narrowing back as he walks to his car. It doesn’t feel like anything to watch him go. I’m left only with my mother, who rubs my back affectionately.

”What a sweet man,” she whispers. ”I know you don’t like me being too pushy but I can’t wait to see you marry him.���

”Yeah,” I laugh dryly, but I’ve never wanted it less than now. The dreams I had of babies and marriage and a family crashing into the ground right in front of my eyes. 

Maybe I would be happy if I had never met Paige - I would’ve never known how much I could crave another person’s touch, how badly I could miss them, how happy I could be.

I walk into the living room, finding Kiran, Paige and my dad sitting on the couch, drinking beer and eating mince pies, talking animatedly. My heart flutters as I lean on the wall, watching them from the archway.

“Iz, can you believe she’s never had a mince pie!” Kiran gasps when he notices me. I walk in, sitting on the stool of the grand piano. 

“You like it?” I ask Paige, who’s grinning from ear to ear and nodding, mouth full of food. She reaches over offering me her beer like she had a million times before. I take a sip and hand it back, scrunching my face and shaking my head.

“So gross,” I murmur, earning chuckles from my dad.

“Now tell me Paige,” he says, turning to the girl sitting next to her. “Do you think you’ll have time to go hit a few balls before you leave?”

Me and Kiran glance at each other, eyes wide. I had never seen my dad like this with someone.

“Only if this one comes too,” she nods towards me. “I tried to get her to come golfing with me in Dallas but she’s too stubborn."

“Because golfing sucks,” I huff.

“You’ve gone golfing once,” my dad points out. “For my 50th birthday a couple years ago.”

“Damn, I’m jealous,” Paige laughs.

“Well maybe when you’re 50,” I tease, kicking off my heels and rubbing my feet that ache. The image of us, at 50, golfing and in love, flashes in my mind. 

Her winning me over by promising dinner after, me pretending I still hated the course, her hand on my lower back dragging down to squeeze my butt visibly enough to make our children grimance and complain. But it doesn’t scare me, or cause my chest to ache and tighten - like when I thought about Jasper.

“Promise?” She asks.

“I swear,” I answer.

My dad clears his throat, getting up from his seat. 

“You’re staying over right? Shouldn’t spend Christmas day alone,” he says, squeezing Paige’s shoulder approvingly.

“You should stay,” I say too, not wanting to see her go.

She nods, a bright smile spreading across her face. My  shoulders soften, relief setting in.

-

“I feel like I didn’t say thank you enough,” I murmur, placing a second duvet onto Izara’s bed. She’s doing her skincare by her vanity. God I missed her bare face, her meticulous nighttime routine. Her entire room smells just like her, lavender and pear. 

“Yes you did Paige,” she scoffs, brushing through the ends of her black hair. All the lights are off except the lamps decorating the bedside tables on each side. 

“I dunno,” I complain anxiously, sitting on the side closest to the door. I didn’t have to ask, I knew the right side would be hers.

Izzie gets up, the shorts of her pajamas hiked up over her ass as she does. I try not to stare, or to think about the moment from earlier when it was just us two in her room.

It was hard to see her with Jasper. But somehow it was even worse to see how he diminished her light, making her into a shell of who she was in Dallas. Part of me wishes I’d seen her laughing and sparkling and happy. Then I could leave her be, knowing this is where she belonged. But she isn’t happy.

”I think everyone liked having you around,” she tells me, climbing into her bed and pulling the covers over her. I do the same.

”Oh Jasper too?” I joke, resting my head on the pillow. Izzie laughs, rubbing her eyes. I missed seeing her like this, tired and her guard down. 

”Don’t make fun,” she giggles, turning to her back. The space between us on the large bed felt nearly painful, my skin tingling underneath the covers. The girl turns to turn the lamp beside her. I do too.

We lie in the dark, both of us staring at the ceiling of her room. The silence makes the house feel desolate, a sudden contrast from all the noise earlier. I don’t turn to see if Izara’s sleeping, I don’t have to. I can hear from the pattern of her breath that she’s wide awake.

”You happy with him?” I ask, merely a whisper.

”Paige…” Iz sighs into the darkness. But I wait for an answer. I don’t get one.

”I didn’t think it’d feel like this. Seeing you again,” she murmurs. 

”Like what?” I ask carefully, afraid I’ll scare her back into her shell.

”Like… Everything I thought I figured out is crashing down.”

I turn to my side, facing her. Izara’s plump lips are parted, the shadow of her side-profile blurry in the darkness as my eyes adjust. Her eyes flicker to me.

”I don’t know what to do with it,” she admits.

I inch my leg closer, my toes brushing against her calf. She shivers again.

”You happy with him?” I repeat the question again, but we both know the answer. Iz turns to her side too, butterflies growing in my stomach. I try to steady my breathing, but it’s impossible. My heart keeps galloping in my chest.

”Paige,” she whispers but I stop her. Encouraged by the drinks, I bring my fingertips to her arm under the blanket. Her skin rises in goosebumps against my touch.

”Does he make you happy?” I ask, dragging my fingers up her shoulders and neck. Her eyes flutter shut as she shifts, squeezing her thighs together.

”Does he make you feel this good?” I whisper, inching closer and running my hand through her soft hair. She sighs softly, shaking her head. I bite down on my lip, chest heaving as I resist indulging in what I want.

”No,” Iz whispers. I swallow, encouraged by this.

”He don’t know you like I know you,” I murmur, feeling Izzie’s leg rub against mine. Chills spark up my thigh. If she keeps doing that I might lose it.

”He don’t know how to make you happy,” I whisper, inching towards her. ”Or how to take care of you.”

”Paige,” she sighs - it’s nearly a moan. And I’m not even touching her. It drives me crazy. I can’t hold back anymore. 

In the stillness of the night, I lean in and press my lips on hers. A quiet groan spills from my mouth but she swallows it, opening her mouth further. She tastes like toothpaste, and strawberries just like I remembered. Suddenly I forget how I ever survived without her. It’s as if someone’s been holding me underwater, and suddenly I can breathe again.

”Oh God,” she breathes out, her hands wrapping around me and pulling me closer. Her front presses into me and I feel all of her. My eyes are watering with need and lust and love, sliding my tongue into her mouth. She meets it with hers, like she’s just as starved as I am.

It feels like a dream. I’m scared to stop, scared she’ll disappear from my fingertips. I let my hand drag down her side, over her ribs, to her ass where Jasper touched before. But this time she’s gasping for air, clinging to me. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone more.

”I missed you so bad,” I mumble into her mouth. Izara merely nods, wrapping her leg around me and pulling me on top of her. I’m a puddle in my boxers, dripping down my thighs. She feels the same, bucking her hips into my leg to look for any sort of relief - the type she hasn’t had since she left Dallas.

”Fuck ma,” I whimper as she kisses down my neck, and breathes into my ear the way she knew I liked. It’s like no time had passed, we still remembered everything. Simultaneously it had been far too long.

”Baby,” she cries out and I nearly collapse. But it’s not right. She’s with someone else. And even if that someone else was Jasper, it wasn’t the right way to start with us - no more secrets. I had to do this right.

Her nails dig into my back, and I almost forget why I should stop. She’s begging for it. It would be so easy to just keep going. But I can’t.

I pull back, crashing onto my back beside her. She sits up, gasping for air.

”Paige,” she protests. But I pull her down and kiss her cheek.

”You gotta talk to Jasper first,” I tell her, surprised by the discipline I had. ”I’m not gonna be someone’s secret no more.”

Izara thinks for a while, mouth parted and eyes turned down to her lap.

”Yeah,” she hums. ”Okay. I’ll talk to him.” Her voice wavers, unsure of what she just promised.

I nod. ”Okay.”

And as she lies down we both know we must wait just a little longer. I tell myself it’s only a couple days. But it’s felt like eternity already, and I’m growing tired.

Against my better judgement, I pull her to my chest, like I had many times before. Her body melts into me, softening as she rests her cheek against my skin. It’s like it was before, Iz curled up beside me, her breath tinkling my skin. But the stakes are higher. And this time we won’t mess up. I’ll do anything to prove to her that I’m her future, her forever.

-

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