#(the consequences of coloring most of my drawings with pink ...........)

[mewklu]

‘not creepy, sweet!’ they said :3

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (5) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!

word count: 3.9k

In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.

Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm. 

You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them. 

When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth. 

“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”

You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana. 

“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”

He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?” 

You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”

“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him. 

“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”

“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”

He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”

“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”

He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”

You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”

“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face. 

“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you. 

Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately. 

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .” 

“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”

Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”

Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”

“You want to see them. Really?”

“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”

Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”

“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”

“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”

“You want to be my friend?”

“I mean, only if you want me to.”

“I do.”

“Don’t tell Rafe though–”

Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you. 

“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”

Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.” 

There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”

Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow. 

“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”

“Uh …no,” You stared. 

Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been. 

“Good, get in, Bambi.”

“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?” 

“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”

You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”

“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.” 

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off. 

“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind. 

“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”

Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill. 

“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”

“He’s full of shit.”

You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”

“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”

“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”

“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”

“But why–”

“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”

You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping. 

Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”

“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”

Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”

“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.” 

“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”

“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”

“... It could be really fun …”

“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”

“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”

“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”

You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”

Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible. 

Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ. 

Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it. 

“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body. 

The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor. 

The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words. 

“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”

JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard. 

The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack? 

“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”

Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him. 

Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear,  standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”

Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”

Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.” 

“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way. 

“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”

“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made. 

“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”

“You saved me.”

Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes,  but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”

Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”

“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”

“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”

“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”

Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going. 

“You still sore from earlier?” He asked. 

“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”

Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more. 

“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”

You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”

“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered. 

“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”

You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples. 

He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”

Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again. 

“Thank me.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly. 

Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying. 

A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together. 

“Did people always stare at you like this?”

“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”

“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile. 

“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded. 

“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.

“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”

“Coffee isn’t good for you.”

“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it. 

You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”

You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own. 

You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes. 

“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her. 

“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic. 

The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”

“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head. 

“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”

He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock. 

“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away. 

You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle. 

“Daddy-”

“Let’s go, Bambi.”

“Rafe-”

“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.” 

You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.

PART 6

Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!

[peaches2217]

how do you personally envision Mario and Peach (and/or others)? Like if you could draw them, how would they look? Physique? Significant height differences? Super poofy dress for Peach? Hairy arms and body for Mario? (Already know the answer to this ;)) I know you’re a fan of chubby Peach, but what does your mind picture when writing them?? 🤔

This got long and has visual aids aplenty, so Mareach body and outfit headcanons below the cut!

First up, body headcanons! The closest I could find to how I envision Mario is this ridiculously handsome man named Louis Kwong Jr.: fat but muscular, overall stout build, and, of course, an abundance of body hair, because I’m not weird about that at all.

I had to thumb through bear porn just to find what I was looking for. Consequently, that means this dude’s dick is on the internet for all to see, so exercise caution if you look him up.

For Peach, I take inspiration from the absolutely stunning Kristine Thompson. She’s tall, she’s curvaceous, and she’s the picture of elegance and feminine confidence. I hc Peach’s chest being a little smaller, but still generally large.

Height-wise, I put them at 5’1 and 6’, which would put the top of Mario’s head right about at shoulder level with Peach; she typically wears kitten heels and he wears work boots with thick soles, so that difference doesn’t change much based on whether they’re wearing shoes or not. Size-wise, they’re both somewhere in the realm of 200+lb, though Mario is larger and heavier than Peach since he’s so much shorter, and since he’s got as much muscle as he does fat.

I couldn’t figure out how to change the colors, lest I would’ve made them red and pink. I wish there was an option to tailor the weights too, ‘cause this just looks weird 😭

As far as clothing goes, Peach is all about dresses, the longer and flowier, the better! She enjoys miniskirts and will wear pants or shorts when it’s more practical, but maxi dresses are what makes her heart sing loudest. She opts for Big and Poofy when going about her business in the castle or for formal occasions/ceremonies and looser, simpler offerings like sundresses when going casual. She’ll wear darker colors every once in a blue moon, but she loves bright, cheerful colors most of all, pink and white and orange and yellow and the likes.

That last one miiiiight be AI, but it came from a photoset that was clearly an actual human modeling the actual dress, so I’m fairly certain it’s just heavily airbrushed. If I’m in the wrong then I’ll happily find a replacement!

Hair! I’m a Curly Haired Mario truther myself. The curls I picture him with tend to fall between 3a and 3c, depending on who you ask, but this is the closest visual representation I’ve found to my vision (just in a lighter shade of brown):

Peach’s hair is very long, very thick, and slightly wavy (somewhere between 1c and 2a). She enjoys brushing and pampering it with products, but the only way she gets it to stay in place is via her magic (which also keeps her makeup perfect, no matter how many wringers she’s put through on any given day). It puffs up considerably when it’s humid.

I was gonna include more character appearance headcanons as a bonus, but Tumblr keeps screaming at me for adding so many images to a single post, so if there’s any more y’all are curious about, ask away and I’ll give them their own posts!

[mariaxxxxx]

Chapter 7 - Love at a slow pace

Summary: To save your nation You are given as a bride to a sea god.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, virgin!reader, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, somnophille, slight degradation, duvious consent, pregnancy, arranged marriage, inexperienced reader, abortion commented, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

Work count: 1.806

Serie materialist

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

Her face was full of shame when two maids came to get her from her bed to take a shower and eat something. It was embarrassing enough being naked under the sheets, but her spirit almost left her body when the young maids observed the love marks on her body. The smug eyes your husband gave you made you want to throw him off the highest cliff straight to his death. The cloak placed on her body by the maids did little to hide the marks of her marital consummation. You realized how difficult it was to walk when you felt a lascivious pain in your hips and a great burning in your intimacy. Trying to keep what little you could, you forced your legs not to weaken along the way, but you weren't doing very well. You prayed to the gods that no one would see you in your most shameful state, but they were benevolent and in your path there were only stones and luminous worms.

The maids didn't say a word and didn't make a sound as they guided him to a hot spring. The water was warm, a bright milky color covered in yellow flower petals, the place was bathed in blue-green lights with luminous worms on the rocks overhead. There were also small openings in the rocks covered with thick greenish silk scarves and a large smooth stone around the edge with several clay pots with unknown drawings and acronyms.

One of the maids combed her hair and poured a pleasant-smelling brown liquid into her hair, the other washed her body with a sandy, pink substance that formed foam when rubbed. You sank your body into the water to relax, but such frivolity was interrupted with a wave of pain that surrounded your body. The maid who washes her body was rubbing her thighs with a sponge when, by accident, it touched her sensitive flesh.

You exclaimed in pain as you abruptly sat down on the fountain and the maids walked away from You with their heads bowed. Her hand felt the area and soon You felt the consequences of the intense love your husband gave you. Her pussy ached at the slightest contact and rivers of seed gushed from her walls. Your mother had warned you about the pain during and after coitus that could occur in your intimate area. You just didn't realize how much. You were too distracted groping your pussy with your fingers to discover the bruised spots when the maids left the bath room.

"Wife." Upon hearing that name, his face froze and his mind spun. Like a naughty child being caught doing something hidden from his parents You refused to look up. “It seems I didn’t make my wife satisfied enough. I need to fix my mistake.”

You quickly removed your hand from your pussy and, with great courage, looked up.

“I wasn’t…” You barely knew what you were apologizing for. Her husband raised his eyebrow at her explanation.

“Don’t touch yourself when I can do it for You.” He mutters as he goes through the cape, jewelry and shorts. His heart beat faster when he realized that he was as naked as you, approaching like a predator about to devour its prey.

“Touching me?” You questioned confused. He stopped before You.

“Yes, my beautiful wife.” He put his hand on her face. “Playing with yourself while I can do this myself.”

"Did i do something wrong?" You asked shyly fearing you had done something wrong. Your husband raised his eyebrows at You even more.

“Yes,” said K'uk'ulkan, tilting his head as he smiled. “Never touch that pussy without me there.”

“I-I-I...” You stammered in embarrassment, without adequate words in your mouth to try to answer him or apologize.

You didn't have much time to think of a good response as K'uk'ulkan threw his body against his, pressing your back against the edge of the hot spring. The instant he approached, K'uk'ulkan ran his hand right over the back of his neck and pulled him into his mouth. His lips came together in a hungry, desperate kiss. He put his tongue in your mouth, turning you into a mess.

Their lips continued to devour each other, tongues dancing together, while his hands roamed over her body. K'uk'ulkan had a firm hand on your back, pushing your body further against his. You were digging your nails into his shoulder, seeking support. K'uk'ulkan wasn't willing to stop at just kissing. Like a sneaky snake, he took his hand to your pussy and inserted them inside You.

You broke the kiss, and screamed at the sudden contact. You tried to close your legs when you felt the beginning of the pain that was increasing more and more, K'uk'ulkan stopped you from moving away by remaining with his hand on your back and removed his finger from your sore pussy. He gently kissed his neck.

"I hurt you?" she whispered in his ear.

“I don’t know...” You started to speak. “Our matrimonial activities left me unwilling for more.”

You could hear a giggle as his breath tickled your skin. His mind began to hurt at the possibility of having him unpleasant in such a short time of marriage. Maybe it was too early to impose her wishes, but before she could say anything her husband said:

“I will be patient with You, my beautiful wife. When you are ready, come and claim what is rightfully yours.”

A smile formed on her lips when she heard such beautiful and understanding words. You loved how much K'uk'ulkan, in such a short time, respected you and made you so comfortable. He knew how inexperienced you were and, at no point, did he make fun of you or make you do anything you didn't like.

"Thanks." You whispered as you closed your eyes and pulled him closer.

“Come, my beautiful wife. Let me take care of You.”

And he really did. K'uk'ulkan washed his body with care and adoration. Treating the sensitive parts with affection and getting a few laughs when he touched an area that tickled her. When he finished, he wrapped you in a white fabric and guided you, still naked, in his arms to the cabin where you shared intimate moments. He gave you a white dress and helped you get dressed, there were no adornments or extravagant hairstyles. And, internally, You thanked him for it; for allowing that moment to be of lightness.

K'uk'ulkan dressed in a white costume similar to his own, but with brown embroidery and personas printed on the fabric. You sat on a large rug and shared a beautiful meal. He laughed and You were embarrassed by how loudly his stomach growled when an old servant placed the food in front of him.

“It seems I haven’t fed my wife.” He made a funny sound with his mouth.

"I am really sorry." You said in a low voice. “It was impolite.”

“You apologize too much, wife.” He tilted his head slightly to the side. “Don’t feel embarrassed about anything. This is your home now.”

“I know, it’s just that...” You interrupted your own speech, afraid of sounding stupid. It wasn't the time to act like a scared child, but when you looked at him, you realized how much he expected You to speak, how much he was placing expectations on You. A feeling of security flooded your body, so you spoke. “It is not our custom for newlywed brides to expose their insecurities to their husband. Mom told me that she shouldn't do it quickly and shouldn't bother him with my questions. At least not in the first year of marriage.”

“Moms...” he said with an amused smile. “I respect your customs and You, my wife. But I ask that, by the gods, you never hide anything from me. Whether good or bad feelings. I am aware that I brought you to a foreign nation, I should not and cannot impose anything on you. Cry when you want and smile when you want. I will be patient and I will always be here for You.”

You saw K'uk'ulkan's face change and a beautiful smile appear on his lips. In that moment, he loved K'uk'ulkan with all his heart. Even in so few days, You understood what K'uk'ulkan had done. The words were right, only because he understood how much it hurt to be so far away. You and he continued to eat in silence, where only the sound of chewing could be heard. He smiled every time your eyes met and, like a fool in love, you did the same.

After the meal, the old woman came to You. Her husband came out of the hut to give them a moment among women. You didn't understand her and she didn't understand you either, but when a small bag of tea was placed in her left hand and a gelatinous substance in her right hand, you indirectly understood what she meant. Through gestures she pointed out that the ointment should be applied to her pussy and the tea should be drunk to open her uterus.

Moments like these were common in his homeland. The old crones were holders of the knowledge of conception and life, although You had been kept in ignorance most of Your life about the conception of a baby, You knew those two things. The ointment was used for wounds and skin pain, her mother often used it to heal her knee wounds and the tea was a mixture of herbs that increased fertility. His mother took it every morning. Once, in your childish nagging, You drank some of the tea without her seeing only to spit it out. Her mother found her spitting the liquid on the floor and scolded her and when you asked what that bad drink was for she just smiled and said: “You'll know, my girl. Your time will soon come.”

Now, here You were, being told to drink the tea to conceive a child. Her mother was right after all her turn to drink the horrible liquid had arrived. You thanked the old woman by placing your hand on your chest and bowing your head slightly as a sign of respect for her age and the shared knowledge. She repeated the gesture and left the cabin, leaving him alone. You kept the herbal mixture next to the reeds, deciding to drink it in the morning, like your mother did. She applied the ointment to her pussy in order to get rid of the burning as quickly as possible and serve her husband as quickly as possible.

When You finished, K'uk'ulkan entered the hut, You received him with the smile he returned.

"Come. Let’s get some sleep.” He extended his hand, you grabbed it.

TAG LIST: @ladymac82 @sarahivi

[quincyhorst]

Quincy Horst Headcanons (New Year Edition 🐉🇦🇺)

Hello. Happy 2024! 🎇

I still struggle to articulate my thoughts at the moment, but I want to thank everyone for the support during this 2023. 💞 I'm genuinely grateful that even if this blog remains small, there's people out there that want to listen to the silly stories I give these characters. There's so much to share yet, like the Euro B coaches and the Toro Blanco, but I have confidence I will be able to do it soon. Thank you for waiting, and on the meantime, let's talk about something else today.

Back on my main blog @/brucemarlin I remember reblogging a drawing with THE Bruce Marlin for the first post of the year 2023. Why not doing the same for here, too? Given I don't post much about Quincy Horst despite my URL, I guess this is a good way to fix it.

To clarify, this is a summarized outline. So unlike Gareth -which I divided in detailed parts-, this is a bullet point with smaller pieces, but that do explain my overall ideas with Quincy at least until the FFI. This is also a very rushed post, so forgive me for any mistakes.

Quincy was born in Kalgoorlie, the so-called aussie city of gold. However due to issues his family had to move out to Esperance later on.

Overall, the Horst family had been operating a mining company since their arrival to Australia, but lately the business has been struggling with many things, such as past controversies and their main goldmine starting to dry out.

This is where Quincy's profile comes out, he desires as to find a goldmine mainly as economical support (and a quick way to gain fame for himself). Ironically he does get into the geological aspects later on in life.

He is the 5th child in a family of 7, mostly composed of girls. The other boy in the family went already to study at Canberra, so he's absent most of the time. This led for Quincy to interact with his sisters more, obviously with the consequence of him getting mannerisms, atitude and interests that can be seen as """girly""". Not a bad thing at all, but it did gave him a hard time at school; specially from the other boys.

But unlike similar situations, Quincy did the risky thing of actually fighting his own bullies back. It didn’t end up well, and while it helped his parents realize the gravity of the situation, by that point Quincy had gotten tried.

For the rest of his adolesnce, he developed the radical choice of hating anything girly (Be interests or even just the color pink), at the same time trying to find ways to look "cooler" or "macho". Until he grew up from it, this did strain the relationship with most of his sisters; specially those he once used to play with.

But not everything was bad, at least. Around the end of Primary School, turns out Quincy's aunt started to date a man of surname Marlin, who also had a son. The boy named Bruce was quick to befriend Quincy due to their similar age and interests, so at least Quin finally had another boy to rely on. Hell, he does consider Bruce to be more of an older brother figure than his actual bro.

Thanks to him Quincy also got onto soccer, though by getting accidentally hit by one of his show-off shots. The sudden incident at least made Quincy develop interest into becoming a goalkeeper. While researching aboit the sport he soon stumbled upon Jean Baker, the keeper from Sydney whose fame was slowly growing. Finding him badass, Quin started to use him as a role-model on his training. But soon the sentiment grew from "I want to be like him" to "I will be BETTER than him C:<"

I guess that's the most essential info for now; there's still quite lots of things to talk about Quincy and his family on detail, but this is a good outline of what I have.

But, here's a little add-on, since we are on the Year of the Dragon: Since their origins, the Horst family has kept for generations the very exclusive belief of the Horst Dragon, a mythical draconic creature that has been protecting them for centuries, even when the family moved from Germany to Australia. Even to this day Mr. Horst is a firm believer of this creature, and he was succesful to pass this enthusiasm on his son. Quincy is the most passionate child about the Horst Dragon, even more than his other -skeptical- siblings. He even claims at times that the Horst Dragon helps him to guard the goal. Huh.

[lilies-and-forget-me-nots]

✍ Has the mun some special talents beside writing? 

👗 How is the mun’s fashion sense? 

🌙 Does the mun stay up long or goes to bed early? 

👁👁

muse talking about the mun!

✍ Has the mun some special talents beside writing? 

“She draws pretty well! I’m pretty bad with art myself, so I always appreciate the things she makes.”

admin: awweewwwwwww u like meeeee

“Of course I do, but please don’t get too cocky. I still believe you have some points to improve. For example, you can still improve in drawing men.”

admin: can we talk about something else now

“You can also learn to be more patient with art. You always think of giving up halfway through, and it always results in parts which aren’t that well rendered, particularly the line—“

admin: can we get to hunter’s answer yet

“You also always say you want to learn how to draw backgrounds better, but you never put in the effort to learn or try yourself—“

admin: HUNTER

“Talents other than writing? She can barely write to begin with though.”

admin: nevermind

“Poor thing. Alright, I'll say something about her."

admin: wait you’re actually

"She's been a voice student since she was in middle school. Singing is her second favorite hobby."

admin: you're saying something nice about me..>!?!?!

“She's quite lackluster for the amount of time she spent learning though. I've heard better notes from a headless chicken."

admin: both of u suck

👗 How is the mun’s fashion sense? 

“Actually, most of what I wear is her own personal fashion sense.”

admin: if it was up to her to dress up she would wear the most atrocious outfits possible. i had to intervene or else she’d wear a neon yellow shirt and hot pink jazz pants to the mansion and her route would turn into a comedy skit

“Hey, what’s wrong with that combination? Bright colors are nice to look at. I’d also wear those green shoes I saw at the store the other—“

admin: see what i mean

“Mediocre. Boring. Needs more avant-garde.”

admin: YOU are wearing things that are part of my fashion sense???

“Because you forced me in them.”

admin: what would u wear then

“Well, first I would [The rest of this question has been removed for graphic content and multiple demonic rights violations].”

admin: ……………..

“What?"

🌙 Does the mun stay up long or goes to bed early? 

“I… I don’t even know.”

admin: me neither

“Sometimes she’d be awake until the sun rises, and other times she’d be asleep as early as sunset. I’m almost amazed at how weird her sleep schedule is.”

admin: do u think i can attend ryotei since its a night school

“Oh, I think so—wait. Are you asking this because you want to attend school with Shuu and the others?”

admin: i can fix them

“How many times are you gonna say that? And no, no chance! You’re also in college!”

“I don’t personally care either or, as long as her sleep schedule remains atrocious.”

admin: why’s that

“The earlier you begin to suffer the health consequences!"

admin: u r my number one hater. i love u

“What’s that phrase again, the one you love saying?”

admin: i can fix them?

“No, touch some grass.”

[cordeliaflyte]

Answer 1: I wink at Mopsie to let her know that I, too, approve of her rebellious nature.

Answer 2: I give Mopsie an admonishing look.

Answer 3: I raise one eyebrow to suggest to Rory that he ought to make less of a show of support for Mopsie in public.

[thepandalion]

So as I might have mentioned I’ve been reading Homestuck for the first time

(Rant under the cut, you know the drill)

So! A lot has happened since I last uploaded art. Including, but not limited to:

- My computer deciding not to open any website that isn’t owned by Google

- I bought myself Clip Studio when they did their December holidays sale

- Taught myself to draw in a chibi/chibi-adjecent art style and now I can’t stop. It’s so simplified compared to how I used to draw look at it. Its so soft and untextured and I can just make blobby hands and feet and it works??

- After an entire week, finally fixed my computer (it just wanted an upgrade to Windows 11)

So, yeah, been a while. I’m actually working on a project for my MCYT sideblog wherein I draw all the Hermits as per my AU, the Sunbringer. I’m currently.. halfway through. It’s been a week.

Hhh.

Well, now onto actual details, starting with the fact that CSP makes it much easier to save transparent PNGs (Krita was fine, too, but it was slightly less intuitive, at least for me- I figured out how to do it on the first try- though maybe that also has to do with the fact I now have actual art experience meanwhile Krita was my second ever program, and while I’m certain the first one was fine it did not have that feature specifically... or at least I wasn’t aware I could look for it. Idk, it’s been like 4-5 years since I last used that program, I can’t even recall its name). What I’m saying is that the version above is transparent, while my new profile picture is the one with a background! And it’s space!

Anyways, figured out I really like giving characters with large, round glasses small, simple eyes, that are just colorful eggs.

So, as I mentioned, this is Homestuck stuff- apparently my last try was the wrong class, but not the wrong aspect; I’m actually a Mage of Mind. The one server I’m on where I talk Homestuck had me accidentally rant for paragraphs upon paragraphs (like I’m doing now... haha) about another person’s classpect and why their explanation for why it won’t fit them is actually the entire reason it should fit, actually.

It was a discussion on why classpects are infuriatingly confusing, so of course that “short” explanation I provided immediately cleared the issue for me, since a Mage of Mind is one who understands choice, consequence, and thoughts. So, understanding the minds of fictional characters to the point where I mimic mannerisms subconsciously, as well as understanding someone I had at most two conversations with prior... Yeah, fair enough.

That’s my invitation to anyone who’s interested to ask me to explain the personalities for various classpects, if you’re willing to read this much text (and, let’s face it, if you’re reading this, you’re probably fine with the length I write in).

Ok, final notes!

I almost gave the boots little wings- sorta like Hermes’ shoes? Because flight is my theme. I literally have never drawn myself without my signature wings- except when I was 3 and my “self portrait” was a bright-crayon drawing of a luna moth (well, it was bright pink, but it was a butterfly with crescent-patterned wings), and even then it was all about the flight. Always. It’s a part of who I am more than pretty much any other part of me.

... Now onto lighter stuff, the title of the book Mini-me is reading is “Mage’s Guide to Reading More Books”. Specifically because I thought a book on reading books is a silly (yet loveable) concept.

[dreamatia-stories]

The Peggle Academy Gang

Way, way back on Bjorn's blog, tucked in a post he made about sequel ideas, he told us about an organization known as the Peggle Academy. As the years have gone by, the only member of the Academy that has ever come up is Fnord.

Considering the Academy is pretty important to the plot of OoD (and how EA doesn't give a damn about the franchise), I would almost definitely have to design my own evil counterparts.

Bjorn gives the description that "they look just like us, only with eyepatches, goatees, and hue-shifted color palettes", but I'll be real with you, if everybody looked like that it'd be boring design-wise and hard to take seriously. (Plus Fnord breaks two of those rules anyway when he shows up again in Blast.)

My design philosophy here is basically to pick a similar species to the Original 10, give them traits that clash with their counterparts, and do something with their eyes. (The eyepatch is Fnord's thing now.)

The Control "Group"

Fnord Unicorn: Bjorn's brother. The oldest of four, Fnord was once the heir to a noble and highly respected clan of unicorns, until a tragic Thunderball accident destroyed one of his eyes and cost him everything. Using appearance-altering magic to cast away his former self, he's since dedicated his life to destroying everything the culprit holds dear.

As you can see, Fnord's stake in this is just a tad more personal in OoD. I'll be the first to admit I never actually finished Blast (and probably never will with how broken it is now), so if Fnord DOES give a backstory in that game I'd be glad to hear it.

Fnord used to have a white coat and green mane (which makes it a LOT more believable that they could be related), which was altered into an orange coat and red mane by the time of Blast. In addition, if I do get the chance to draw him, I'd probably give him electricity scars behind his eyepatch.

The Most Complete

Lilah Nightshade: The first one I designed way back when, Lilah is all about fun, the nightlife, and most of all herself. Her sole interest is in her own pleasure, and she doesn't care who or what might be hurt by it; after all, who cares about the future if you're living in the present? Lilah joined the Academy's ranks to stick it to that uppity little Sunflower who works for the Institute, who won't stop whining about "consequences" and "keeping the planet healthy".

Since she's Tula's counterpart, I wanted to go with a plant that invoked the night. I went with the Nightshade, which is purple to contrast Tula's greens and yellows, star-shaped to invoke how she thinks she's the star, and famously poisonous to mirror her toxic personality. She wears sunglasses, both as a sort-of rejection of the sun and their association with being cool.

I don't remember which specific kind of nightshade she's based on, but since she's a super old concept I probably didn't actually bother distinguishing that. There's at least one drawing in my archive of her true form.

Ivan Roseberry: A mysterious plant who lives in the basement of the Academy building, and whose vines are embedded into its foundation. Unlike the others, Ivan has no particular ill will towards the Institute, merely doing what Fnord says because he's one of the few people who will actually talk to him. He cares for a rose garden on the Academy grounds, which he is fiercely protective of.

I'll be real, Ivan came to me in a dream, so he doesn't actually have any real-life inspiration; his name (both in- and out-of-universe; nobody at the Academy knows what he is either) is mostly just from the fact that he's a berry who tends to roses. Googling "roseberry fruit" brings up several different kinds of fruit, but none of them are light pink like Ivan. He's mainly a Magic Realm-exclusive species, like unicorns and dragons; which coincidentally gives him a contrast with Renfield, who is heavily implied by PvZ to have sprouted in "our" world. His powers also contrast Renfield's, with Ivan's being associated with life rather than death.

Ivan has blue rings around his eyes, which also were just there in the dream. So far, he's the only Academy member to actually have both of his eyes visible.

Less Concrete Characters

Doc Thunder: A smug guinea pig scientist who believes only the worthy should be allowed in STEM. He has no qualms with experimenting on others in the name of advancing scientific knowledge. Believes that Jimmy's own scientific pursuits are an insult to the field.

Doc Thunder is the first character I don't actually have a design for yet, despite him being kind of important. That said, he'd probably look pretty similar to the Fake Jimmy from Peggle 2, for plot-related reasons. I picked guinea pig both for the science ties and for the fact that I thought Jimmy was one for years. (That, and it's a similar size to Jimmy's ACTUAL species, the gopher.)

The Doc will probably wear opaque goggles, "because SOMEONE has to wear PPE around here and it CLEARLY isn't that pathetic excuse for a so-called 'biologist'-"

Count Ashheart: A former member of the Order of the Flame who disagreed with its rules and attempted to form a splinter faction: rather than controlling the Flame to ensure it lasts, Ashheart believed the Flame should consume all and burn as hot and bright as possible. As such, he decided he would become one with the Flame, immolating his body to serve what he believed was his higher power. Now undead, he continues to attempt to influence the Academy's students to follow his example, to Cinderbottom's anger and Fnord's annoyed chagrin.

Ashheart technically DOES have a design: a charred dragon skeleton, who occasionally wreathes himself in blue flame. But I neither know how to extrapolate a skeleton from Cindy nor how that's supposed to work with the Humanoid Filter, so I'm kind of at a loss for how to portray the guy. As a skeleton, he pretty obviously doesn't have eyes at all.

Jack Rabbit: Okay I'll be real I basically just have a name for this guy. My idea is that he's a con artist and a thief who grew up on hard times, who doesn't see any real difference between himself and the magician and treasure hunter Warren. But obviously, Warren is held in fairly high regard and Jack isn't.

"Jack Rabbit" most likely isn't actually his real name, and he's probably actually either a hare or a jackalope. (Or a hare pretending to be a jackalope.)

I don't have much for Kat Tut, Splork, Claude, or Hu. I can imagine KT's rival being an actual Ancient Egyptian mummified cat, and I did briefly float around the idea of Claude's rival being the old friend he winds up fighting in Nights, but that's about it on that end.

[mynextvape]

Weed Vaporizer Australia Review | My Next Vape

For individuals that want to reap the benefits of the full cannabinoid profile including therapeutic terpenes, vaporizing is a safer and healthier method. Vaporizers are also much easier to use than smoking weed.

In a Sydney suburban mall, Vape Shop owner Ali Ayoub sells bubblegum and pink unicorn flavours. He agrees e-cigarettes are disproportionately used by teens and kids but says they're not tobacco.

Portable Dry Herb Vaporizer Pens

Dry herb vaporizers are typically portable, discreet and easy to use. They use a heating element to heat and vaporize the dry herb in the chamber without burning it or producing smoke. The vapor is then inhaled through the mouthpiece. Depending on the device, there may be a temperature control system which can adjust the heat during the vaping process to get the best results. Some devices have LCD screens which display the battery level and the current temperature, allowing you to track your progress throughout a session.

Different manufacturers produce dry herb vaporizers in a range of shapes and sizes. They also use a variety of materials for the body and mouthpiece, with plastic being common on cheaper models and glass and aluminium preferred in the higher-end options. They may also offer accessories, such as grinders, packing tools, and water pipe attachments to improve your experience, but these are purely optional.

A good example of a quality dry herb vaporizer is the G Pen Dash from Grenco Science. This device features a quality build with an aluminum body and a smooth feel in the hand. It has a simple operation, with the main button being pressed five times to turn it on and off and three times to change between three heat settings. It has buzzy haptics and a nice weight, making it comfortable in the hand during long sessions.

Mighty Medic Vaporizer

A true powerhouse in the world of portable vaporizers, Mighty is a German designed and made unit built to last. While it doesn’t have the same sleek appearance as some other units, its industrial look is actually quite cool. It looks a little like a power tool, dressed in cooling fins and sporting a Black & Decker type color scheme. It is definitely not a discreet device but its sturdy construction, which allows it to be dropped without sustaining damage, makes up for that.

The Mighty uses a combination of convection and conduction heating to provide excellent quality vapor from the first draw. It also has another trick up its sleeve – it can be used to vaporize concentrates as well with the addition of a liquid drip pad. Its large herb chamber is also a great advantage, as it can handle a good amount of material with ease and without clogging.

Depending on the density of the vapor, inhalation may cause irritation of the respiratory tract and/or lungs. If this occurs, stop the use of Mighty Medic and consult your doctor. Inhalation of cannabis flowers contains cannabinoids (such as delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol) that can have psychoactive effects – they affect perception and consciousness. Consequently, you must not drive or operate machinery after using Mighty Medic. You should also not use Mighty Medic if you are pregnant or breastfeeding, have respiratory or lung diseases or any other health condition.

DaVinci IQ2 Vaporizer

The DaVinci IQ2 is one of the most innovative and impressive pocket-vapes that you can get. It was designed to be the perfect combination of sleek design and futuristic technology. It is a high-quality, powerful vape that can be used for dry herb and extracts. It features an advanced ceramic vapor path that is very durable and produces some of the purest tasting vapor possible. It also has a replaceable 18650 battery which can last for an hour or more before it needs to be recharged.

The IQ2 is made from quality medical-grade materials including a glass-lined oven and zirconia ceramic airpath. The body is made from brushed aluminum that is sturdy and eye catching. The oven is 20% thicker than the original IQ to ensure that your herbs cook evenly without burning or overheating. The IQ2 has an easy-to-use heat adjustment dial and pre-set Smart Paths for optimal temperature control.

The IQ2 is an all-in-one device with an advanced app that gives you all of the tools you need to customize your experience. Its intelligent features make it easy to use and navigate, even if you’re new to vaping. It also has an integrated battery indicator that lets you know how much power your battery has left. The IQ2’s mouthpiece and flavor chamber are connected by a medical-grade silicone that is resistant to heat. This is a big plus for users that prefer to avoid any risk of hot vapor chemically reacting with the silicon in the air path.

Volcano Medic 2 Vaporizer

If you’re an at-home user that prefers pure and clean vapor, the Volcano is the vaporizer for you. It’s made with heat-resistant, flavorless and food-safe materials to ensure your vapor is untainted. It also meets ISO quality standards and UL and NRTL requirements, which means it’s one of the safest and most reliable vaporizers on the market. It may have a higher price tag than other vaporizers, but it’s built with the best and most durable materials, and its extremely accurate temperature control makes for a superior vaping experience.

Both the Volcano Medic 2 and the Mighty Medic are capable of reaching high temperatures, which helps them extract more flavours and potential therapeutic effects from your herb. Storz and Bickel’s patented technology allows the heating system to maintain the set vaporisation temperature without compromising on safety.

These desktop vaporizers can be used with medicinal cannabis formulations such as dried, milled and/or ground cannabis flowers and liquid cannabinoids dissolved in alcohol. The Volcano Medic 2 is a fully certified medical device, registered with the TGA and listed on New Zealand’s Web Assisted Notification of Devices (WAND) database.

[pocket-ozwynn]

Has Genesis Day Chapter 3 in the oven like a fine roast, slaps a folder on the metaphorical table.

Y’all wanna hear about two new idiots I’ve been thinking about?

As a note, I PROBABLY (cough) won’t be doing anything long-verse with these two for at least a year or more but I definitely do want to do one-shots with them because I just am starting to really love their dynamic.

The setting is tentatively the “Space Odyssey”!AU, and it draws a lot of inspiration from James Gunn’s Guardians of the Galaxy, League of Legend’s Odyssey skin line and sub-universe, and Elaine Lee & Mike Kaluta’s Starstruck comic book series. Loud, colorful, absurd, despite a galaxy ruled by corporations and empires. This setting would allow for vignettes to show what the Space Odyssey versions of Alice (an Empathkinetic), Freyja (an orbital Meteor drop trooper), Rowan (a cyborg smuggler), and Zelly (a vulgar priestess of the Song of Creation) might look like--but like with Offline Valor, I wanted to give this story the opportunity to explore a new G/t (eventual) couple dynamic. I hope you like my scattered notes and thoughts about them! 

The Little:

Character inspirations: Clone Troopers from Star Wars, Barry Syx from Starstruck Odyssey, Mabel from Gravity Falls, Sprig from Amphibia, Raze from Valorant, Tracer from Overwatch, Wally West from DC comics (though specifically Young Justice), Bumblebee from Transformers: Animated

WIP colors: Hot pink, yellow, black, and maybe cyan (the colors for Mountain Dew Spark)

Ever since I watched the Genndy Tartakovsky Star Wars: Clone Wars I was fascinated with the idea of cloned individuals. At first it was just my little brain was so obsessed with how cool and epic and mysterious they were--they’d always wear their helmets and look the same, but then when they’d take off their helmets they’d all have the same face. Fast-forward 5 years later when the ideas of clones and individualism was explored more fully in the The Clone Wars of George Lucas and Dave Filoni, my brain started to ask QUESTIONS about the concept--questions that were metaphysical and philosophical, over the state of a “cloned soul.”

Going into “Space Odyssey” I also knew that I want a different kind of Little to play off the Giant I’d be including as well. With Alice you had sparkling, sweet, and feminine, and Rowan who is broken, brooding, and masculine--with acting as fun romantic foils to Freyja and Zelly respectively.

For this Clone (for the purposes of this document being referred to as “64″) I want him to be optimistically aimless, chaotic but sunny, and hopelessly accident prone. Created for a war long over but only brought “to life” by pure accident in an old cloning facility, 64 now strives to find his purpose in the galaxy--with all the color, laughter, explosions, and shenanigans he can muster along the way.

The Big:

Character inspiration: Hebrion Hythenos from my own personal D&D campaign, Chell from Portal, Cassandra from Dragon Age, Viper from Valorant, Rey from Star Wars, Prince Zuko from Avatar

WIP colors: None at this time  

Responsibility is a crippling thing sometimes. Sometimes it is given to us as a part of a job or calling, but sometimes responsibility comes as part of the consequences of our actions. And most of the time we either try and address it the best we can, or we put it off until the last possible moment.

Not the Runaway.

Inspired by my current D&D character, the Runaway fled her homeworld to avoid some grand responsibility that is tied to her family and potentially even the fate of her people. But why is she running?

Simply put, she’s terrified of facing it.

But she doesn’t show it, though it’s abundantly clear that she is NOT in the right--she needs to face her responsibility and face the consequences...but not when our story starts.

Calm and serious, and cool to the point of maybe even a little icy, the Runaway holds a veneer up, because if even the teeniest cracks start to show...

I wonder what might happen if we throw a plucky, colorful Clone trying to find his purpose in the galaxy at her.

---

And yeah! VERY loose ideas for these two. They represent themes of my struggles over the last few years: finding courage to face incredibly difficult responsibilities and finding purpose and color in life when it seems the world has left you behind.

So let me know what y’all think! I do want to try and get Chapter 3 of “Genesis Day” out by Sunday or Monday, but maybe I’ll take a crack at some HeroForge designs to get a loose idea of what to expect for the Runaway and her Clone! 

[jjungkooksthighs]

Yearn for You | jjk (m)

◊  Pairing: vice president and boyfriend!jungkook x secretary and girlfriend!reader x ceo!jimin ft. co-founder!taehyung

◊  Genre: fluff and smut / established relationship / office au

◊  Rating: 18+ / nsfw

◊  Word Count: 31.5k (honestly another whopper but are we surprised?)

◊  Summary: As a secretary, it is not proper to engage in intimate affairs with your superior, who is the one you are meant to be at their beck and call for in the business world. The world, however, means very little to Jungkook, the vice president of Bangtan Industries and more importantly, your boss and boyfriend of three years. In all that time, he has never cared for hiding your passionate affections for one another and tonight will be no different after a particularly amusing day of teasing you and watching you fall prey to your desires for him that he revels in amidst his fervid love for you. In that love that has shifted his entire globe in how completely and wholly he has fallen for you, he will do anything to make you, his beloved girlfriend, happy. So, after some efforts to toy with you, he allows you to have some playtime with a very special friend whilst he delights himself in your entertaining little game.

◊  Warnings: hard dom!jungkook, possessive/jealous!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, sub!reader, sub!jimin, lots of dirty talk, pet names,  lots and lots of teasing, praise, fingering, grinding,  thigh riding, phone sex (taehyung listens in on the threesome), masturbation (male and female), cunnilingus/oral sex, unprotected sex (reader has birth control implant in her arm and Koo hates condoms lbr), breast/nipple play, biting (there’s a bunch), marking through hickeys, sucking, pussy stretching, rough and possessive sex, anal sex, double penetration (this is a jikook threesome with reader y’all), cock riding, cock warming, begging, muscle kink, scratching, light choking, cum feeding/eating, manhandling, pinning down, multiple orgasms, wet and messy sex, degradation kink (koo calls you a slut/whore for him only like two or three times each), orgasm control, orgasm denial, squirting, creampie, multiple orgasms, edging, exhibitionism, voyeurism, daddy kink, reader goes into subspace for a little bit, mild bdsm, anal fingering, anal sex, vaginal sex and aftercare (from jungkook)

◊  A/N: Gosh, this one is finally here after two weeks! This fic is not like anything I have ever written before, but I know that there will be people out there that like this! It’s very hot if I do say so myself and it was such a joy to write in my lust-filled craze that I’ve been inflicted with in the wake of D’ICON Jungkook (even though that particular look is not part of this fic lmao). I blame Jungkook’s overwhelming sexiness that always has me ready to drop to my knees for this fic because honestly it’s all his fault.

Oh, and I know some of my readers have been waiting for COC, but because I have been tight on money, I decided to write this as a commission for the wonderful @jeonsjiddies. I hope you like it, babe! Oh, and that lovely banner you see above? That is courtesy of the fantastic @nightshadevinter. I thank the both of you for your continued support of my work and do hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I was entertained by writing it.

As always, guys, please let me hear your thoughts on my work! There’s nothing that is more gratifying as an author than to get feedback on what you spent so much of your time creating! Finally, if Tumblr is crashing because the fic is so long, you can find the AO3 link right here !

The day’s hours wane amidst the sun that sets behind you as you watch the last of your coworkers slip through the elevator doors of the twenty-story building, your heels clicking against the marbled tiling of the highest floor in the corporate property belonging to Bangtan Industries, the most well-known architectural firm in the industry.

 In one hand you have papers fresh out of the printer, your eyes trained on the small font that outlines the topics of discussion and areas of interest for tomorrow’s meeting as you skim through them. As the secretary of both the vice president and the CEO of the company, you had always been the mediator of their affairs, which meant that you never had a moment of rest while at the office.

 Because your charge was attending to the ever incessant happenings between your bosses as the two most high-ranking individuals in the company, you never had a moment of respite (not that you minded). The constant hustle and hullabaloo that was dealt in their wake left you in an ever flowing state of motion and you liked the grind. It meant you never were bored by their occupancies at work, for they always ensured that you had something to busy yourself with.

 The fact that your CEO looked to have been brought to life by an artist’s brush in his beauty while your vice president (and consequently, your boyfriend after some years together) appeared to have been sculpted by the gods in his handsomeness surely was a bonus, however, for whenever your sight would begin to blur because of long hours spent drafting and writing across your computer screen, a simple glimpse at either of them had your visage instantly clearing in the clarity of attraction that perceived itself between your legs when they’d stare back at you in stolen moments of passing.

 As you scavenge the paperwork for any errs that you may have missed, you don’t notice the silhouette the crosses the cubicles hedging the floor as you navigate through the maze of them, your irises narrowing as you huff in the realization that you forgot to properly align the addendum toward the end of the files in your hurry to finish and be out of the office after six o’clock per the orders of your CEO.

 When you cross the threshold to your office, the walls of glass that are curtained with silvery gold silk are opened to allow the sun to bathe you in its comforting heat that settles warmly over your stiff bones as you drop the paperwork atop your desk and rest your hand on it as you let your eyelids fall over your irises with the sun that coaxes you to luxuriate in its golden rays in a momentary lapse of silent solace from the toils of the day’s efforts.

 Behind you, a shadow cloaks you before a deep, low-timbre voice swathes you in its hold as it teases, “Enjoying the afternoon sun, baby? You should really head on home right about now, hmm? It’s getting late,” his eyes trail down your back and drop to the swell of your ass that strains against the small, short pencil skirt it is pushed up against before he continues, “We wouldn’t want the boss to get mad because you broke rules and stayed past six o’clock, now would we?”

 “Vice President Jungkook,” you squeak, his voice stringing you up and twining you around the fingers that-after many years of dreaming about them- now touch you in your most intimate sectors of your body in his unceasing relentlessness of rapturous intent that drive him to find himself between your legs every night, morning and afternoon that he could entertain. You had once wondered how a man could possibly rival an incubus in how he seemed to thrive with the more that you gave him and before him, you’d been abstinent as a nun. He had quickly changed that once you’d succumbed to his dark promises that had been wrapped in sin’s lace as he’d covered you with them with a tongue too long to be anything but devilish. It’s been years since you first got together, but he still renders you to be in need of an exorcist in the spirit of sex that has possessed your soul in its binding to him.

 You put a hand to your chest in startlement before you turn to face him to go on, “I didn’t hear you come in. Is there something you wanted to discuss? I just was going to finish up Jimin’s,” you clear your throat under his constricting gaze that constringes you for a battle of air as you correct yourself, “the CEO’s itinerary for Wednesday after fixing up the topic outline for tomorrow’s meeting with the board of directors.”

 It was amazing how after several years together, he could still whisk your breath away from you with one glance.

 Your superior hums, “Mmm, busy girl as always, aren’t you?” He takes a step inside your office, the sun’s light beams a stark contrast to the dark suit he wears that is colored black like the night sky, the silvery stitching in thin lines along his coat shining like streaks of falling stars in the movement as he suavely exhorts, “Did you happen to have time to send to me my travel arrangements for the week? Make sure you clear time for yourself to attend the gala with me on Thursday. I meant to tell you that earlier when you were feeding me my lunch in my office,” he confides lowly as two hands grip the edge of the chair that sits in front of your desk while he carries on, “Thank you for that, by the way. My hand was so sore from constructing the miniature model of the new tower we are building. I’m so glad you were there to assist me in erecting it and that you could sate my hunger earlier today. I was ravenous, you see.”

 Your cheeks flame in remembrance of the way his deft, long tongue had wrapped around the fork you’d presented to him, the creamy alfredo sauce coating his pink lips suspiciously similar to the cum he’d expertly and easily draw out of you every time he ravaged you or the essence you’d taint yourself with during the forbidden hours of the night when you touched yourself to fantasies of him in the midst of his absence due to the longer hours that he was required to work at the firm.

 You’d never heard anyone groan from ‘the succulent taste of the meal’ as your vice president had, but you’d be damned if you didn’t enjoy every delicious sound that had dripped from his mouth as he’d opened his lips to welcome you when you’d draped the noodles across his tongue.

 Needless to say that after that particular encounter, you’d had to escape to the bathroom for about twenty minutes to relieve the ache between your thighs that had garnished and cooked your insides for him until you burned with the need to release the steam that wouldn’t escape you without his guiding hand.

 In all of that, you’d been entirely oblivious to the two sets of eyes that had been fixated on you while they watched you with utter absorption. With the visage of your cheeks that had reddened from the blood that had rushed to them and the slow, uneven walk you’d taken back to your office amidst your thighs that stung from your efforts, it had been all too apparent that you hadn’t really gone to use the restroom for the purpose it was intended to be used for.

 Jungkook himself had smirked at that and when his irises had switched away from you and to his own boss, the CEO, whom had his own workspace directly next to his own, Jimin’s teeth had gnawed on his lower lip until you disappeared behind the curtains of your office before resuming with the Skype conference with one of the company’s chairmen.

 With your head full of your illicit indecency that the man standing in front of you now had caused earlier, you try to fight past the fluttery feeling in your chest as you splutter, “U-um, well, it was no problem at all!” You croak as one of his brows lift in amusement as you fidget under his all-encompassing stare to blurt, “Always a, uh, pleasure helping you, Jungkook.”

 Truly, you don’t know how you managed to acquire a degree in English with how eloquence seems to suddenly be a foreign concept to your mind, but your vice president seems to be wholly unbothered and oppositely entertained by it as one side of his lips lift while he cocks his head to the side to divulge, “A pleasure indeed, Y/N,” his voice dips as he comes ever closer to you, his palms now splaying over your desk as his long, iron colored tie swings forward to dangerously dangle close to your own hand that twitches in the want to grasp it and pull him forward until his lips have nowhere to go but on your own as he urges, “You always take care of me so well. I want to return the favor to you, but I just,” his irises lower from your eyes to your mouth as you draw your lip between your teeth and when they rise back up once more, he professes, “can’t put my finger,” he drums his index and middle fingers along the timber of your desk, “on how I want to repay the favor.”

 Memories of last night filter through your mind like an echoing song as they tune your brain to the way he’d pummeled into you, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he’d ravished you after you’d begged him to let you ride his face and you’d dared to sit back and grab his cock in the midst of his attentions to your pussy. You’d screamed through the delicious pleasure that was too much to bear and he’d been more than eager to leave you a mess of limbs and cum on the bed in his wake as he’d fucked you so crazedly, his efforts guided by the need to see you ruined with his seed a success in how mercilessly he’d given it to you and how greedy you’d been to take it all.

 Heat floods your core at the anything but holy thoughts, for your boyfriend surely became a demon in bed that you would gladly fall to your knees to be taken by over and over again.

 “You,” you swallow past the lump in your throat and have to remind yourself to keep your legs locked together lest you succumb to the urge to rub them against each other as you give a choked answer, “you don’t have to do anything. My salary is payment enough.”

 “Oh, but is it? Is there nothing else I could give you to show you how much I appreciate you?” He looms closer, his raven’s wing hued hair kissing at the tips of his cheeks while tenderly embracing the sides of his forehead amidst the hands of oils that part it down the middle and slick it in their essence as he inquires, “Is there not some kind of bonus that you desire? Say it and it is yours, my beloved secretary. After all,” his eyes glint tellingly, “you’ve always been such a good girl for me. I want to reward you, beautiful. Will you let me?”

 “Jungkook,” your cheeks heat up as you whimper, “Please.”

 You try not to think about the implications of what your response might lead one to believe, but under his heady gaze, there’s little you can do but let your words tumble from your mouth.

 He’s called you beautiful a number of times whilst in the presence of other clients and coworkers and each time, your heart had done a flip against your ribcage. The fifth month after he’d become your boyfriend, you’d once questioned him why he called you that and he’d simply shrugged his shoulders before offering, “I should think you would know, pretty girl. It’s because I find you attractive.”

  You’d gone home that night after he’d vowed to bring you your favorite takeout food to make up for having to stay longer at the firm and you’d hugged him with the dumbest smile stretching across your features before turning to leave while he’d smiled fondly at you as you’d skipped like a lovestruck teenager all the way back to your apartment and wondered all night long what he might have been doing while you’d put on your favorite k-drama and bundled yourself up in blankets for your nightly binge of the show, your thoughts void of anything and everything that was not Jungkook in your straying attention from your tv session that was entirely your boyfriend’s fault.

 When he’d come home to you that night, he’d made sure you victualed atop his lap while you’d fidgeted with an ulterior motive leading your body, your moans of enjoyment for the soup he spooned to you all too loud and drawn out amidst your purposeful movements that had been quick to have him hardening beneath you and before you’d known what had happened, he’d thrown you atop the table and fucked you well into the morning hours.

 Now, in the silence that has seeped through the office in the lack of occupancy that is limited only to you and your two bosses, the word has an entirely sinful meaning in the deepness he’s pillaged it with.  

 When he darkly chuckles, mischievousness and everything that promises lasciviousness colors the sound as he pushes off your desk and stalks damningly closer to you, his much taller frame engulfing your own as he hovers before you to lowly inquire, “What do you want, beautiful? Say it,” he steers himself around the desk until he stands in front of you, anticipation welling up within you as he wraps one arm around you until one palm is pressed against the small of your back and in one fluid motion, he streams your body against his, your breasts cascading along his chest as you suck in a breath at the rocky plane of muscle laid over him even through layers of clothing, your hands-as if siphoned forth to him-planting themselves along his pectorals as he utters, “Tell your boss how bad you want it.”

 “Vice President,” your breath hitches when another hand boldly finds purchase along your ass before it slides down to cup your thigh as he pulls your leg up and around him so that it is wrapped around his slim, hourglass waist as you fight the mists of lust that cloud your abdomen as you try, “we c-can’t. This isn’t…it’s not proper.”

 “Do you think I give a damn about niceties when you’re fucking tempting me with how short that little skirt that barely covers your ass is?” He growls as he ducks his head, his lips ghosting along the sensitive junction just under your ear as the hand on your thigh trails upward, his digits just grazing your panties as you shakily sigh out while his other hand dives under your blouse before he husks, “Do you think it is proper to go in the bathroom and fuck yourself with your fingers after you fucking fed me with them? Huh?”

 “You were watching me, vice president?” You gulp at the realization that he knew, “I thought I had been discreet…”

 “Such a dirty little girl,” he muses as the fingers he’s snuck under your V-necked linen shirt run along your skin in languid circles before he blows a puff of warm air against your neck, your skin prickling in his wake as he noses at your jaw, “Did you honestly think that when you went to the ladies room for twenty fucking minutes that I timed on my watch that I didn’t know what you were doing?” His lips brush against the column of your neck as you let your head fall back in silent offering to him as he goes on, “Did you honestly believe that when you walked out of there and wafted the smell of sex across the office that I couldn’t fucking tell what you were doing in there as you fucked yourself while you thought about me?”

 Caught as you are in his hold, you cannot escape the mortification that drops like an anchor to your shoulders and then down through the bowels of your body in its infinite heaviness at the realization that he’s got you red-handed. Embarrassment is what has your lids closing in your inability to see the source of your lust swim in the knowledge of the waters of your sins that streamed from him.

 Despite it all, his digits draggle along your southward lips as he rubs them against your pussy, your walls clenching around nothing as he groans at the wetness that begins to coat your panties as he coos, “Fuck, you’re so naughty, babygirl. Look at that pretty cunt cry for me because it’s been neglected without the only one that really satisfies it,” his finger pulls the ruined cloth away from you and suddenly the hand that had been exploring the ridges of your spine dips in its exploration to pool around your hip and with a dangerous flash of his eyes, he pulls you down over a semi-hardening bulge between his legs, a moan slipping from your lips as he impels you against his member to grunt, “You like this, baby? Does it turn you on to know that I’m aware that you got off to me in the bathroom? Would’ve been so fucking hot to see you get fucked with your fingers, baby. God, it’s making me hard just thinking about it.”

 His dirty words soil you in as he covers you with them just as tangibly as you’d been spoiled by your own juices, your brain short circuiting in the jolts of heat he wracks you with as his touch thunders over your skin that begins dewing with the beads of sweat in the high temperature that he flusters you with.

From the very first time you’d seen him years ago in the shabby little bar where time had seemed to stop as you’d locked eyes with him while he passed you by, you had been under his spell and now, as he holds you to him with desire simmering in his gaze, you’re struck with that sensation of beating wings in your chest as you let him finally lay his lips over the junction of skin along your collarbone, the pillow of his lips bedding themselves over you lightly as the fingers of one of your hands curl inward into his shirt in your effort to hold onto something to ground yourself against the lightness lifting at your insides as you manage the only word that your mind can possibly internalize in the midst of your fading cognition with a whisper, “Jungkook.”

 Your vice president smirks against your skin as he bedecks you in his osculation. Saliva is left in his aftermath as featherlight kisses are flitted along your collarbone and when the hand on your waist pushes you down onto him to urge your hips into moving, you whine as he combines this with the stroke of his fingers at your steadily swelling bud of nerves that gardens the flower of your pussy.

 “Answer to me, beautiful,” he brings you both back until his back hits the glass wall, his hips instantly rolling into yours as he coaxes your other leg to join your other around his waist before he flicks a long, hot tongue along your mastoid that cords your neck as he declares, “If you want me to fuck you like I know you’ve been craving for me to,” he mouths against you, “Tell me how much you fucking want me, beautiful. Let me hear how badly you need me to take you because you can’t possibly be pleased by anyone else, pretty girl.”

 Heat swirls in your belly as he lazily draws shapes into your clit, his member hardening impossibly more for you when you grind yourself against him while you wrap both arms around him to brace yourself as you hump him like an animal in rut, the hand he’d had on your hip quickly cupping your ass to hold you up while he stares hotly at you.

 Knowing that you will face punishment in the bedroom later if you do not do as he asks, you try to wrack your brain for the string of words that you need to scramble out of their jumblement amidst the need that throws them into a whirl as you breathe, “Want you, Jungkook. I want you so badly. Please, let me-“

 “Oh, but do you think you deserve it, Y/N? Do you believe you should be allowed to have my cock when you denied me for so long today?” He taunts, his teeth taking your earlobe between them as he continues, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to put my cock inside that little cunt of yours? How many times I thought about bending you over this damned table and fucking you into oblivion?” You gasp in the risqué admission as he sweeps you over him, his wrist disentangling from your clit to pull your skirt up so that he has no obstructions while he shamelessly ogles your dripping cunt before you lower yourself down on him to earn a cautionary hiss from him, “Watch it, beautiful. If you can’t control yourself, I’ll take you right fucking here in the middle of your office. If I can wait all day to finally have the chance to fuck you again after you denied me, so can you.”

 "Why did you, ah-" he slots one thick thigh under you, a cocksure grin spreading over his features as he helps you thrust yourself over the thatch of muscles lining every inch of his leg, your voice cracking when both hands clutch your ass as he pulls you down and over him to brokenly whisper, "Why did you take all day to finally fuck me, sir-" your lips are suddenly captured in a heated kiss, his mouth roughly claiming yours as your head falls back while he flicks his tongue along the roof of your mouth to claim every bit of you before he pulls away to leave you heaving as you try again- "I-I wanted you to come to me earlier when I was in the b-bathroom,” your breaths are labored from the air he’s thieved from you to leave only your wanton admission, “wanted you to give me your cock and t-take me against the wall while I begged you to let me have your cum inside me...”

 "Such a little slut for me, aren’t you? You didn’t have enough cock this morning when I stuffed it between your hungry little lips and fucked your face? You know," he groans when one of your hands slides down his defined chest as you drag it to its destination before settling over the fully hardened member as you gyrate your hips atop him, " I taught you that when you want something, you ask, yeah? Could’ve had what you needed if you’d just been obedient and used that fucking mouth to request a good fuck, but instead, I had to use my fucking hand to imagine it was your pretty little cunt that my cock was in," you whimper at his confession, your fingers curling over his member as you swirl your hips up and down his leg in a frenzy, your core heating like a wildfire when his eyes darkly flash, " You're going to suffer as I did, pretty girl. You're going to feel how fucking desperate you made me while I jacked off to pictures and videos I recorded of you when you were innocently batting your eyes at me from all the way over here while I was in my office with my hand on my cock."

 “Jungkook,” you whine, “I don’t know if I can take that. Not agai-“

 "Oh, but you will, baby. You will do what I say because I'm the fucking boss, yeah?" One hand gropingly lifts from your ass to grasp at a bra-clad tit, a whimper falling from your lips when he squeezes hard and with his other hand, his fingers sink into your side as he pivots your waist down on his thigh, his muscles jumping at you and catching at your core as he urges you over him and in response, your fingers constrict around him to earn a hiss, "God, it was too easy to make you fall apart on me. Come on, baby," he challenges as he takes your lip between his teeth to nip at you, "Show me what you've got, yeah? Fuck yourself on me. You have sixty-nine seconds to finish before I pull you off me and go back to my office."

 With his demand, you’ve no choice but to obey and instantly, you bear your hips down on him with renewed fervor, the firm and solid thew tautening beneath you as clamp him between your legs while you sway yourself back and forth like a seesaw, a moan stuttering from you when he pushes aside your shirt to grip one breast in his hand, his digits expertly rolling your nipple between them as you teeter precariously atop him, your waist stammering amidst his ministrations when slams his mouth against yours once more, his tongue thrusting inside your warmth as he captures you under his osculation and possessively wraps his wet muscle around yours as he steals your breath away.

 When he pulls away, you chase him with growing hunger that latches itself to you, your mouth connecting to his in a softer kiss as you kittenishly lick at him while he kneads at your breast.

 Your core clenches around nothing when he pairs this with a harsh propulsion of his thigh into your cunt as his sinewy skin slides deliciously along your clothed cunt, the tingling friction finding every inch of your pussy as you avidly grind against him.

 You compress your fingers over his rock hard cock that has your salivary glands producing excess spittle in want of him and when you dare to start rubbing him there while you busily buss his jawline that you think might cut you in its sharpness if you aren’t careful, that’s when he growls out, “God, you’re such a fucking minx,” he angles his head back to welcome your lips against him, “Time’s ticking, princess. You have ten seconds.”

 “Jungkook, please, I…I’m almost there,” you cry out, “Please don’t leave me,” you blurt as you bounce on his thigh rapaciously while you fervidly litter his neck with the stains of your crimson lipstick, “I’ll do anything,” you beg as he smirks while he watches you with interest, “I’ll let you do anything you want to me later, just…please, let me cum. I’ve thought about this all day long, thought about you fucking me all day long,” you blabber as your pride is burned away by his searing gaze while he pushes his thigh impossibly deeper into you as you whine out, “let me finish, sir.”

 Perhaps it the fact that your boyfriend is quite honestly the hottest man you’ve ever seen walk the earth (really, how could you ever be satisfied with anyone else when your boss and boyfriend is a literal incarnate of sin and sex) or maybe it is because he’d edged you this morning in the shower, for his much longer and larger fingers had played with you like you were his favorite toy and that had you quickly winding up around him. Despite your cries, he’d not let you come after disobeying his orders to speak after he’d all but fucked your brains out following round four of your sexual escapades with each other on the kitchen table, the couch and the wall and then the bed. Maybe it is both of those, but you've never been so quick to rile up and Jungkook, the one who has his strings attached to you like you’re his damned puppet, well… it is easy for you to see why you are at the edge of the precipice he dangles you over with his strong threads.

 He observes with amusement the way that you work yourself avariciously over him, your lips insistent in lavishing him with your attentions as you line his throat with the red coloring you’d put on your mouth until he’s decorated with it like a painting you’d artfully drawn yourself. He lets the seconds pass beyond what he’d told you, delight lighting at his eyes as he sees the relief wash through yours in the slow surety that streams in your irises beside it in your thoughts that he’s going to allow you to find your end.

 It’s when your thighs begin tremble from the labors of your efforts and a low pant starts to push itself between your lips as you undulate yourself against him that the large hand on your breast twirls your nipple between deft fingers, fire flaring through your core as you moan out his name.

 “That’s it, baby. Say it louder for me,” he groans as he bucks his hips against you, a devious glint in his eye gleaming at you that only has you burning hotter for him as he husks, “Let Jimin know who you’re fucking yourself like a dirty little girl on.”   

 Your end is near and you’re so close to plummeting into your end, but he holds you from it and refuses to let you fall into it. Not yet, anyway.

 “Jungkook,” you whimper, “touch me.”

 Your boss hums, “Mmm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He pinches your nipple only to cause you to squirm, the slight pain shooting sparks down to your pussy that clenches for him. He growls at this, for the flutter of your southward lips against his thigh has his cock throb beneath your fingers that still stroke him and suddenly, his hand is gone from your tit and instead finds its place in your hair that he clutches and yanks you forward with so that your chest is pressed flush against his front as his eyes flash darkly and he hisses, “Too bad, baby. I let you fucking use me so I could see how desperate I could make you while you tried to get yourself off. Now that I have you,” he torturously extricates his thigh from between yours and you all but sob at the loss of him as he sets you down on the floor, the hand in your hair wrenching forward until he crashes his lips to yours and sucks your tongue between his teeth as if he wants to devour you and all the while, the hand on your hip sidles down and, while he’s got your eyes falling closed, they shoot open as you moan into his mouth when he cups your sex, his middle finger prodding your hole and when he pulls them both away, carnality dilates his pupils as he declares, “I’m going to make you my fucking whore.”

 Air evades you, but the fire lighting up in your core sustains the need for him as you attach your hands to his shirt to hold on for dear life in the midst of your weakened, feeble knees that have lost their strength in how much of it he’s sapped from you in your kisses. You shakily exhale what little of it remains as you bury your head in the crook of his neck, your shyness starting to return now that the haze of hormones clouding your brain is gradually rescinding in the lack of his touch.

 Breathlessly, you whimper, “Need you now, Jungkook. Please-“

 You’re effectively silenced when he presses his pointer finger to your lips to quiet you, your labored suspirations wrapping warmly around his digit as he croons, “Shhh…I know, babygirl. I’m so fucking hard for you right now,” his fingers enclose your wrist to coax you to put more pressure on his member and you do, your eyes fixing on how much smaller your hand is compared to his own as you urges you to run your hand back and forth over him as he groans, “Feel that? That’s all for you, baby. God, that little mouth felt like heaven around me this morning. Did I tell you that? Did I mention how beautiful you looked with tears falling from those pretty eyes? Fuck, you were so cute with spit dripping from those lips while you sucked me off like a needy little slut.”

 You choke a strangled sound out at that while you burrow your face deeper into his neck as if to escape from the filth he wants to dirty you with, but you don’t get too far with the way that his finger taps expectantly on your lip as he prods at you and you need no further instruction than that as you tentatively open your mouth to welcome the digit he promptly slides in as he praises, “There you go, babygirl. Such a good girl even when I deny you your orgasm. You know you deserve to have it withheld from you, don’t you?”

 You lick at his finger in answer as you breathe, “Yes, sir. I’ve been bad to you today, haven’t I? I’m sorry,” you try a new tactic in effort to release some tension that has coiled into a knot deep in your belly as you whisper, “Will you let me make it up to you, handsome? Want your big, fat cock inside me so badly…”

 You let your words be swallowed within your mouth as you close it around him only to suction your wet warmth around his digit, a grunt quick to release itself from him as his pupils blow wide at the sinful sight of his finger disappearing into your mouth. His mouth parts at the lewd sounds that escape your mouth as you take him inside you, your tongue flicking against him with precision as you lock your eyes on his and in them he sees the kindling of desire that smokes and hazes them over.

 “Fucking hell, Y/N,” he watches as you innocently blink at him with your head still nestled onto his shoulder and when you swallow around him, that has him twitching under your hand that continues to palm at him, his fingers tightening around your wrist as he husks, “Are you that fucking gone for me? Shit, baby. If that’s how you are with just my finger, imagine how you’ll be with my fucking cock shoved in your pretty pussy.”

 “Want it,” you mumble around his finger as you lave at his digit,” want you so much. Please, Jungkook, take me.”

 “So desperate for me. Just how I like you, babygirl. If you want me that bad,” he pries his finger from your mouth, both of you watching the string of spittle that follows him before breaking off and only then does he lean forward, his lips just shy of touching yours as he commands, “Come to me in five minutes. I need to have a quick word with one of the representatives of the company for funding and then I’ll have the rest of the night to fucking ravage you, yeah?” He pushes off the window while he drags your hand away from him and you can’t deny the cold that is left in his absence when he moves away from you and you pout because of it while tucks your skirt back down.

 He grins at the way your knees buckle and, responsively, he helps you to sit down. One tattooed hand finds its place on your hip while the other splays possessively over your abdomen as he walks you backward and once he’s got you sitting, you catch the way his hands linger as if he doesn’t want to let you go, but with an imploring look you tell him more than your words would convey as you place one of your own hands over his while you urge him to stay with a small squeeze of your fingers over his.

 He’s utterly gone for the way you adorably purse your lips as if to plead with him and it doesn’t go unnoticed by your boss that you whine as he pulls away to chuckle to himself while he strides away from you. In his absence, your pussy yearns for him as it deposits even more of your taint into your ruined panties in his tormenting separation from you.

  By now, he’s at your door and before he disappears, he turns with his back still facing you to add, “Oh, and one more thing,” his irises dip down as he gestures to a dampened, wet patch on his pant leg where you’d been sat atop of earlier before he peers back up at you with a hooded gaze, “If I find out you finished yourself off in here without me,” his voice becomes brusque as he deepens it,” The only thing that cunt will have jammed in it for the next few months will be the vibrator you brought to work last week.”

 “How did you,” you clear your throat amidst the clog that has clumped itself in a ball within the middle of it,” you heard about that? You saw that?”

 “I’ve heard the whispers that all the women believe they are too quiet for me to detect, but you,”  He flicks a sculpted brow up as embarrassment mutes you, your cheeks coloring themselves red as the remnants of lipstick that still remain on your mouth as he pokes his tongue against his cheek in a sight that has you instantly wanting to get on your knees once more for him as he says, “you’re such a slave to your desire for me that you just can’t keep that little mouth shut, that you just can’t help but to tend to that needy little cunt because of me,” his eyes scintillate with sin, “you thought I didn’t notice you take that vibrator to the supply closet with you after I had you massage my thighs that you like to tell the other women that you love so much, but I did, baby,” he watches you rub your thighs together, a pained sound resounding from your lips as he finishes, “You put on such a show for me on the camera I have installed in there. God, you have no idea how bad I wanted to fuck you senseless while you tried to stop yourself from calling my name.”

Your jaw just about drops at his admission, mortification causing you to wrap your arms around yourself as if that will make you smaller against the very large realization that he knew of your feral treachery and with a devastating grin, he leaves you a heaping wet mess on your chair as you try to figure out how one man could be responsible for turning you into a human succubus that needed sex with him as much as you needed air to breathe for your body.

 In the silence that follows your boyfriend and boss, all that can be heard are the perpetually unrelenting ticks of a small wooden clock atop your desk. They chink to the uneven beats of your heart that pounds against your chest as you clutch at it to count the breaths that elude your contracting lungs against the tethers that Jungkook himself had put there.

 Trying to focus now would be like attempting to look away from your boyfriend while he’s stark naked and lounging on the living room recliner in readied receival of you after being away from him for the three-week long and very lonely secretarial seminar that Jimin sends you to every now and then to keep you sharp in your duties that you were expected to carry out as the unofficial manager of both the CEO and Vice President of Bangtan Industries.

 It just doesn’t compute in your mind that has gone haywire in the wake of Jungkook that you can do anything but to keep your attention fixated on the little circular face of the clock, its spindly hands moving far too slow for your liking as you try not to think too much on the teardrops your sex cries in its grief of losing him. When you make the mistake of shifting and sibilate at how drenched you really are in the movement, you look away at your soaked skirt to find it ruined where your sex sits, a groan coming from you as you battle the urge to just bring one or two fingers to your clit to water the fire of need burning there.

 “Jungkook,” you whisper to no one in particular, “You fucking win.”

 Heat still washes you through in the fluidity and you clench your hands into fists atop the table as the waves of it try to ebb your hand down to relieve you of the need that swelters within your core and you are quick to lay your forehead against the desk in need of a colder landscape to battle the Sahara desert’s scorch that has manifested itself in your belly.

 “That’s what I thought, doll. Better not touch yourself, baby,” the familiar voice of your boyfriend chimes through the multiline phone system sat next to your computer, your eyes widening as your back straightens and you sit up with widened eyes, your hand quickly jerking away from your womanhood as you stare surprisedly at the red blinking button that signifies that presently, you are being recorded. He must have turned it on when he’d been sitting you down and, like a siren, you’d been entirely lulled by his distraction.

 “Jungkook, I-“

 “You don’t get to make excuses when I heard you fucking moan with how badly you must want to use your fingers to relieve yourself of me. It’s hard, isn’t, baby?” You can see the shit-eating smirk he gives you even from the other end of the line as he sonorously says, “I would advise that you don’t try anything without me, love. Because if you do,” his voice hardens,” I don’t think you’ll like the consequences.”

 “Need you,” you whine as you push your breasts against the wood in effort to stimulate yourself elsewhere as you try, “Please, sir, let me touch myself. I can’t take it without you.”

 “Oh, but you must, pretty girl,” he voice dips deliciously, “If you put so much as one finger on that little clit of yours,” he threatens, “I promise you’ll get none of this cock for a long time. I am a patient creature, beautiful, but you? You are not and I’m going to teach you what happens when you want to get me hard while I’m at work, you fucking vixen.”

 “But…” you don’t get to say much else because he’s fast to cut you off.

 “But? There are no buts, babygirl. Sit there and obey like a good girl. Got it?” His domineering tone captures you in its hold as you grimace in the banishment of sensation you’d been trying to quell with the aridity searing your core.

 He expertly extricates your own voice as you submissively tell him, “I understand, sir. I’m…I’m sorry I’m so needy.”

 “That’s more like it, pretty girl. Be daddy’s good girl, yeah? He’s almost finished and when he’s done,” he lowly admits,” he’s going to fuck you until you can’t tell the north from the south.”

 With that, the red button loses its light and fades with the end of the call and you don’t need to peer down to know that your skirt is beyond being saved by the air dryer in the bathroom.

 To divert your attention anywhere but at your sopping core, you open your new Macbook Pro that Jungkook had recently gifted you only to find three new messages that have come in, each sliding along the upper right hand of the screen only to glide away after presenting themselves to you.

 Two are from Jungkook and the other is from your CEO, Jimin.

 Curiosity awakens in you and has you tilting your head as you open the older one first.

          Jimin:

 [1:45pm] What were you doing with Jungkook for lunch? You two were in there awfully long just for him to eat some Italian food. I was going to ask if you could chat with me about agendas and travel plans for the symposiums, but you seemed like you were in a hurry, so…

 You chew at your lip at the memory of the way the off-white taint had dripped down the side of Jungkook’s lips and how he’d asked you to clean him up before pulling you into his lap so that you could lick it off with your tongue before he’d captured it in his mouth and given you the most passionate, intense French kiss you’d ever had as he sucked your wet warmth clean before pulling away ask for more.

 For the life of you, you can’t remember if Jungkook’s blinds had been drawn in your fixation on each other. Since his office was directly next to and connected with Jimin’s, it was possible that if he hadn’t closed them that Jimin might have seen-

 You click out of the message at the same time you cancel your thoughts from going down a network of ideas that would only make the unbearable pressure between your legs even heavier, your legs sticking together in your fidgeting movement as you hiss through the collection of your essence that coagulates there.

 When you skid your mouse over only to click down on the mousepad and the next message pops up, you nearly fall to the floor with how quick you are to lean forward, your fingers gripping tightly onto the table to keep yourself from making contact with the carpeted ground as you read the next text.

          Jungkook:

 [2:36pm] Thanks for the meal, babygirl. You took such wonderful care of daddy. That alfredo sauce was delicious, but not as succulent and sweet as that pussy when I’ve got my mouth on it. I hope that pretty cunt is ready for me later when I put my fat fucking cock inside you and split you open on top of me. I’m hard for you right now, doll, but all good things come to those who wait, yeah?

 [2:58] Oh, and I got you a dress to wear for that gala we are going to. I do believe you should have already made arrangements to attend, my precious petal. You’ll look so beautiful for me and I know you’ll be the belle of the ball. You’re going be all mine, pretty girl. I can’t wait to show you off to everyone before I tear that gown off you and show you who you belong to. And when you can’t walk anymore, I’ll carry you home and we can watch your favorite show while you lay on top of me so that I can play with your hair and tell you how exquisite you are while we eat macaroni and cheese and watch your k-drama that you like to put on so much :)

 Truly, you don’t know how your boyfriend can turn your insides to mush with just a light glance or even a few words to then, a second later, have your core fluttering in anticipation of his dark vows. You had not one inch of doubt that he would make good on his promises and excitement flits through every contour of your body as you smile fondly at the screen.

 The telltale ping that pongs through speakers set beside the two twin monitors behind your laptop bounces around the glass walls and suddenly your attention is ricocheted to those screens as your hand closes over the wireless mouse and you open the source of sound that you had chosen to alert you of incoming emails.

 Amongst the thousands of emails, the bulk of them come from your bosses and the next mass of them originate from the plethora of dealers that your bosses worked with that often had to go through you before acquiring an audience with either of them.

  Next were the intermediary reconciliations and discussions with coworkers outlining their status and progress on assignments within the firm that you were tasked with collecting and organizing before presenting it to Jungkook, who would relay it to Jimin. On occasion, you would report to Jimin first when he’d come to your office and sit down with you to discuss the overview of all the information, his eyes never straying from you even when you’d get up and walk about the room in your experiments to measure his interest in what you were talking about.

 Jungkook set your body on fire in his scalding affections and attention, but Jimin…Jimin’s soft gaze that was speckled by the sugar of sweetness around you, well…it was like night and day.

 You had come to love Jungkook as fiercely as the sun that has now ducked under the skyscrapers that rise high in the sky and Jimin had come to be someone you adored in the gracious geniality he swathed you in that contrasted so very much with Jungkook’s own feral ferociousness in how the latter had easily seized your heart in the palm of his hand.

 With tangling thoughts of the two of them in your mind, you open the new email that was just sent moments ago. You don’t really know what to expect as you watch the circling icon in the middle of both screens as the content of the email loads, but the longer that you stare at the rotating wheel that-with every pass- has inquisitiveness circumnavigating and spiraling around you, the stronger that the emotion builds in you as you wait, your eyes only now just processing the subject of message.

 Do you like this? Don’t think I forgot what you were telling me last week…

 It’s innocent enough in the initial reading of it, but your mind really can’t help but to soil a more pure intent in lieu of a darker one if Jungkook is involved, after all. The man was insatiable and had tainted you with that same craving for him during every waking moment of your consciousness (and subsequently in your unconsciousness through your dreams that had become borderline pornographic in what your mind would conjure up illicit indecencies wrought upon you by your boyfriend).

 When the spherical icon dissipates, so too does your last shred of self-restraint that is ripped away from you as you loudly whine out, your core clenching around nothing as you devour the eye candy.

    Sweat sluices every bit of skin on both your boyfriend and Jimin, who are the models of the picture, and you’re quite certain that this might be the most profanely peccable thing that you’ve ever seen.

 Jungkook smirks wickedly with his head thrown back against the wooden panel, his eyes closed and mouth parted in pleasure and the white t-shirt he wears sticks to his muscled chest to suck away its color in patches of perspiration that display wet blotches of where hidrosis has penetrated through the thin material to display musculature that the god of lust himself, you are convinced, had a hand in decorating him with.

 His bicep bulges before the picture cuts off just below the upper half of his abs and you don’t need to think to know he’s jacking himself off with his face contorted into such a satisfied expression.

 It is a sight that has your thighs rubbing together, a whimper sounding from you try to calm your breathing that has instantly become erratic in the breaths that refuse to stay lodged in your lungs as your boyfriend expels them expertly without even being physically present to do so.

 It takes some effort to pull your irises away from Jungkook, who has you now on the edge of your seat as you rub your breasts against the edge of the wooden table in your need to feel his big, warm hands on you once again as you whisper, “Please…”

 You lay your head on the table to ground yourself against something of the earthly plane before your soul descends to the fucking nether realm, but in so doing, your vision trails along Jungkook’s other arm that is pushed against Jimin’s own. The slightly older man has his head tilted so that his nape rests on Jungkook’s shoulder, his full lips open to permit sounds you wish you could hear while his eyes, like your boyfriend’s, are shut in a countenance twisted by rapture and you wonder what it is that they’re thinking about that they’ve both succumbed to.

 Distantly, you want them to have been thinking of you, but self-consciousness nips at you despite it because how could two of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen both be frozen in time like this through a picture of their pleasure amidst minds full only of you?

 You shake your head at the thought and choose to fixate your attention back on Jimin, who has you salivating in the open v-cut black shirt that, with its short sleeves, leaves little to be imagined in the mound of muscle mounted along his own arms. He’s sitting back, like Jungkook, and is in the midst of his own sinful delight in the way that one arm is curled around his body in the way that it snakes downward and just out of the frame where you know his cock is in hand.

 You make a pained sound in your solitude where neither of them can help you under Jungkook’s own order as you curse, “Damn you, Jungkook. You knew what this would do to me.”

 You really don’t know how you’re able to look away from the delicatessen that is them, but when you slide one hand under the cup of your bra to clasp your breast and tease at the nipple there while you push against the desk so that your other is not neglected, the movement disturbs your line of vision so that you see the words he’d torturously typed under the picture sent from hell.

          Don’t think that I forgot that you have a sweet tooth for our little Jimin, here, babygirl. When you got fucked against the walls in your office and I had you begging for your release, remember how I asked what you thought of him after he happened to walk in on us and then he ran away while I made you fucking scream so loud for me that he could still hear it even outside the building?

 His tongue had been four inches deep inside you while he’d knelt on the floor for you to eat you out and your cheeks burn in the memory of how he’d had you a crying mess atop of him and in that moment, with your climax so close, he’d played you like his favorite toy in the truths that had been so easy to spew with the slew of his wet muscle that had the threads holding you together weak in their stitching in your need for the one operating your body to fix it all by bringing you to your end.

 It had been purely an accident that you’d neglected to lock the door behind him when Jungkook had come to you with a dark glint in his eye that held only carnality in its iris after Jimin had kept you from him all day for meetings. The moment your boyfriend had snatched you away from your other boss, you’d fallen into his arms readily in the need for him that had tuned you like an instrument until you sung for him in your highest key.

 Lost in each other, neither of you had heard the chink of the door that had borne your coupling to an observer who had stood with his cock hardening at the sight of you both in each other’s ecstasy until Jungkook had thrown you over your desk only for him to face Jimin, your CEO. The man’s eyes had bulged big as saucers when he’d been caught and Jungkook had only grinned as he eyed the tent in Jimin’s pants that broadcasted his obvious arousal. Your walls had constricted around the cock plunged deep inside you and you’d hit your third climax with a deadly snap of your boyfriend’s hips into you all while Jimin had ogled you before running as far as his legs would carry him.

 Secure in the knowledge that you ardently cared about him after many confessions from you in the throes of passion and in the softer moments where Jungkook’s stoicism melted away in the wake of your praise and sweet utterances to him, he knew that you wanted to be with him and that you’d come to love him. It was why he had been so keen to tease you about Jimin in the following days upon realizing that you’d gotten off to being watched by the older man. If it meant your pleasure, he would gladly partake in anything and he’d professed as much to you on many nights (and mornings) in the tender aftercare he would treat you with, ever the doting yet adventurous lover that he was.

 It was why you’d been able to let it slip when he’d had his long fingers plunged in you last night that no one could make you feel as good as he could, but that you were interested in seeing what Jimin’s smaller ones could do and how delicious his plush lips might feel on you. Jimin had always been sweet as honey to you and, in his lathering of that over you in your many moments together at work, you’d discovered that you wanted to get even more of a taste for him.

 Never could you have expected that your boyfriend would do this and torture you with such hankering desire to be sated that it all but burned like a wildfire in your body, but you could hardly be expected to endure it in his absence.

 You make a pained sound as you look at the picture that has damned your sex with even more taint to drip between your thighs and you cross your legs over each other in attempt to get some kind of friction. The attempt is fruitless and when there is nothing to relieve you, you squeeze at your breast and imagine that it is Jungkook who is doing so while the ridges of the table dig into your other and you fanaticize that it is Jimin’s ringed fingers that are palming at you as you cry out in desperation’s grip for either of them to come save you from the agony of their absence.

 You moan at the cool, prickly sensation of your fingers on your skin, your nipple hardening amidst your digits that the cold air of the office has chilled as you seek more stimulation. Your boyfriend’s name falls like an icicle from your lips and when your voice pierces through the thin audio line that Jungkook had screenshared your computer to watch and hear you through Facetime with, he licks at his lips at your exposed cleavage as he watches you pop open another button as you titillate your tits and huff in frustration as you uncross your legs in some misguided effort to encourage friction that he knows you are incapable of granting yourself in your current situation by his own order.

 He feasts his eyes on you as your breasts are shoved against one another, the ‘y’ shape of them bursting from your bra now as you cup one between the fingers of one hand and the other is butted into the table as you moan once more and call his name.

 “Help me, Jungkook…” You breathe, your irises still sticking to the picture that has ruined you from wanting to do anything holy for the rest of the day, week or even month for that matter. With your head swimming in sin spurred by your boyfriend, all you can think about now is Jungkook, Jimin, Jungkook, Jimin, Jungkook, Jungkook and lastly, Jungkook.

 It is your voice that cracks your boyfriend’s fixation on the way your breasts rise and fall with your labored breaths as pulls his eyes from the trenches of your tits before peering up to your lovely face that is marred with the aching affliction he knows wracks your core, his own cock twitching with interest as you repeat his name like a mantra in what little else your mind can internalize with how your sex must be sobbing for him right now.

 Lust seeps through the rips and tears that have begun to open and enlarge your pores as it spreads through your fragile body in the trembles that have you shaking in your attempts to abstain from the slow destruction that has reduced the filling inside your core to wet, ruined fibers like a tainted toy. Without realizing what you’re doing, one hand skids over the wet patch of your essence that has stained your skirt, your palm aquaplaning through that to dive under your skirt and when you slot it between your legs and streamline it into your sopping core with the image of your boyfriend’s hand doing this to you in your mind while Jimin watches, you keen.

 “Jungkook,” you try, “n-need you. Want you to fuck me and let Jimin see how good you make me feel, daddy. Your doll is about to tear herself apart because you won’t play with me…”

 At that, there’s a low growl that booms through the speakers that amplify his voice that promises danger as it demands, “Get your little hand out of that wet ass pussy before daddy makes you regret even thinking about disobeying me,” his voice deepens as he orders, “Since you can’t keep your hands to yourself, get the fuck in my office. Now.”

 Your core contracts at his dominance that is injected into each word and, per his command, your palms shoot away from you as if you were a puppet that he’d pulled on the strings of to whisk your hands away from where he knew you would damage yourself further.

 You rise from your chair on legs that wobble both from Jungkook’s earlier ministrations and your own, your extract dyed onto your chair as you peer back and your cheeks burn at the damned deposit of it that has seeped through your panties and skirt. One knee quivers dangerously as your joints fight to hold you up through the numbness that your boyfriend had left in his wake and you have to plant a hand on your desk to hold yourself up while you steady yourself for the moment.

 From the computer, your boyfriend glares darkly at you as he brings the window that his own computer records himself with to the forefront of your tabs, your attention being sucked like a black hole into him as he declares, “You’re going to sit in daddy’s lap and if you choose to be a bad girl and not listen to what daddy tells you, you’re going to go without cock for as long as I decide to withhold it from you. Understand?”

 “I…I understand, sir.” You nod as you will the strength back in your legs despite his words that threaten to steal it yet again.

 “Good. So submissive. Just how I like you, baby,” he groans as his irises settle on the gleaning mess painting across your thighs from the field of view the camera grants him, “You’ve got me so hard already. I bet that cunt must have drenched itself for me, huh? I guess we’ll find out in a little bit when I clean it all off of you with my tongue,” he has you whining at that as he brings a hand to his chin to rest his face against it as his eyes glint with lasciviousness as he makes a sound of consideration, “Or maybe I should use my fingers? My cock? Perhaps since you’ve been defiant and tried to please yourself, I won’t touch you at all, hm? How would you like that?”

 You reach out for him even through the screen, panic coloring your tone as you implore with pleading eyes, “J-Jungkook, please…don’t. I’m ready for you. I might just break down in tears if you deny me again, so please-“

 “You’ll get what I decide to give to you, babygirl. I gave you simple instructions and I expect that you follow through with them or that little cunt won’t be the only thing that cries for me tonight, doll. Now,” he states with no room for anything but obeyance, “get the fuck in here.”

 Your sex quivers at that and you nod in affirmation as he ends the call once more, your weakened, numbed legs reducing you to a tottering mess of limbs as you emerge out of your office and amble closely to the walls, one hand held out against them to support you in the dangerous dalliance between remaining upright and falling to the floor in your shuddering ligaments that are entirely the work of Jungkook. You don’t have to walk far, but in your slow pace, the seconds stretch on and every step has your slick lewdly dripping down your legs much to your mortification that takes its form in the heat that rushes to your cheeks in the blood that manifests itself there.

 You hobble along the glass walls that offer the view of the city that blinks to life below you in the lights that wink at you while tiny specks of moving bodies bedeck the pavement and once, long ago, when you’d been but a freshmen in college, you’d stood amongst them as you stared in awe at the same building you now work within in. Time had passed but in an instant and when you’d met Jungkook by happenstance one night in a bar with your friends and he’d been quick to pay your tab before sweeping you off your feet and walking with you through the city, you’d had no idea how much your life was about to change when you’d gone home to discover the small piece of parchment he’d slipped in your purse when you hadn’t been paying attention with as distracted by his beauty both in body and soul as you’d been while the two of you had chatted about everything and anything that kept the conversation flowing as easily as the waters in a forest brook. You’d not hesitated in calling him the day after and he’d been eager to see you again.

 You’d gone on your first date with him that night and day after day, the two of you met again and again, for his company was as refreshing as the midnight air that caressed your skin after a long day of classes and before you’d known what had happened, it had been a year and it had only been after letting it out that you wanted an internship with a firm that he’d told you what exactly he did and what company he worked for.

 Your jaw had hurt with how wide your maw had opened in disbelief and when he’d offered to bring you in as part of the team, you’d been all too happy to accept. You really had tried to keep things professional, but Jungkook had not a care in the world for appearances where you two were concerned and your escapades in the bedroom soon made it to the corporate sphere. You could not deny him no matter how hard you tried. It was as if your body had been made to fall into his skilled hands and you would gladly grant him anything if it meant his appeasement.

 After all, you’d become putty in his palm while you had unknowingly wrapped him around your own fingers.  

 Perhaps that is why, when you finally reach the familiar double doors that permit entrance into Jungkook’s office, your hand quavers in the anticipation that has you in its clutches down to your very bones and there is not a moment of pause that stops you from opening them as your hand curls around the brass handle only for you to slip inside, the small clink of the knob resounding around you when you close it behind you.

 Covering the oaken floor, a rug that you’d picked to decorate the room is lain over it. Threaded and crafted in India, it was one you’d seen in the marketplace he’d taken you to on one of his business trips to meet with a dealer that had contacted the firm in their interest to have the firm build a hotel there. You’d taken one look at the ornate swirls colored black as night and red as a rose in the way that the pattern had intertwined in rotating spirals and whirls and your boyfriend had not missed your small whisper about how nice it was while you’d both walked by it amongst the bustle of street life that filled the area packed with people and vendors energetically trying to sell their merchandise.

 You hadn’t thought that he’d heard you, but he’d promptly asked if you liked it and you really hadn’t been expecting anything at all when you’d commented and that it would complement his office in his knowledge that black and red were your favorite colors. With a smile, he’d taken out his wallet (much to your surprise) and taken out a wad of cash that he’d easily passed to the unsuspecting vendor before buying the rug and turning to the group of onlooking teenage boys to pay them off in their efforts to carry it over to your lodgings on your way to the consultation with your dealer.

 Later that night, he’d taken you to a very nice and very extravagant firelit, poolside meal at the Giardino by the the Jai Mahal Palace in Jaipur that you both were sharing a room in. He’d had you giggling every other minute between the fond touches that he’d brush along your cheek or stroke your clothed thigh with from atop the high-necked silk dress that he’d bought for you and after, you’d both had taken a stroll by the surrounding greenery and woodlands beyond the pool. The stars had gleamed in your eyes when you’d peered lovingly at him and not for the first time, he’d been struck with that pang in his chest whenever you looked at him like that while you both had reminisced about how you’d met in that dingy little bar about a year and a half prior.

 When you’d both kissed under the cover of the trees, that feeling that flew around his ribcage had fluttered when you’d adoringly pecked the mole beneath his lower lip as you’d earnestly and heartfeltly thanked him for everything that he’d done for you. When you’d confessed that he’d quickly become the light of your life, he’d tenderly pressed his forehead to your own as he’d pressed his lips to yours once more, the word that had fled him for so long that foretold his own emotions finally surfacing through the depths of his mind.

 He’d declared then and there that he loved you with sincerity beating as fast as his heart through every word. He’d been quick to gently thumb away at the teardrops of joy that spilled from your eyes when he’d finally said it while you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck as you reciprocated the sentiment in a breathless voice that held so much affection for him that it made his chest swell with the emotion and in that moment, he’d decided that he wanted to give you something that-when you looked upon it and felt its weight on your skin- you would be reminded of who loved you that intricately and implicitly.

  He’d held you close with only the moon’s eye presiding over you both while he’d cutely nudged at your nose, his fingers interlacing with your own that you readily accepted and when he’d pulled away, a new resolve had settled in his pupils as he tugged you forward and soon you found yourself being ushered through the busy, bustling streets of Jaipur.

 Bordering on the desert’s boundary, it was a city that you are sure could have been taken right out of a picture in the pinkened sandstone that every store and building had been crafted out of. Ancient structures erected in times past still stood strong among the newer and more modern creations of contemporary origin and the contrast boasted of a rich diversity that had you wanting to learn more about it despite the books that your boyfriend had gotten for you in a homely little bookstore earlier in the day. Youths had run through the streets with vivaciousness tailing them like the dogs that happily ran with them while the old had shuffled along and chattered about their daily lives and it was a place that was dyed in the warm color its inhabitants adored it with.

 Distracted as you had been with the scenery that painted itself into your memory with artful amalgamation of colors, you’d not noticed where he was intent on leading until he was opening a door for you and coaxing you inside with a reassuring nod despite your confused quirk of your chin, you let him guide you inside only to have you gasping under the fluorescently lit store that was notoriously known throughout India for its high class bijouterie called Tanishq.

 Though you had never heard of it, Jungkook himself had been told about the company from a contact in Mumbai that he’d visited with you in their interest in building an additional wing within the library and, upon seeing the way that you both had been inseparable in the tendency to be joined at the hip at all times, he’d suggested the store to your boyfriend after you’d gotten up from your place on his lap to go explore the books that had been crammed on the bookshelf while they’d both watched you curiously tap your fingers against the aged spines of the books. The elderly man had seen fondness for each other well up in your gazes as whenever you and your boyfriend looked upon each other and, after telling Jungkook he only saw that kind of amity in a newlywed couple, he mentioned the name of the store that only the wealthiest of grooms would purchase jewelry for their beloveds from.

 It had purely been by chance that you both had happened to walk by the same store the gray bearded man had spoken to him of and amongst seeing the way your eyes had widened bigger than the largest diamond in the store, Jungkook had decided you were priceless in how cute you were as he chuckled and told you to pick out anything you desired.

 You’d crinkled your nose in confusion, your brows creasing as you’d told him that you were perfectly happy to just have the treasure of him, but he’d only brought his lips to your forehead as he’d mused, “You know, you really are so adorable, Y/N. I want to spoil you. Won’t you let me do that for you, baby? I want to decorate you in my mark so that everyone will know who your heart belongs to. Please allow me to do so, petal.”

 You really had not been able to resist the big bunny eyes as he’d coaxed you forward and so he’d sat down on the leather loveseat in the corner of the room, the business-suited employees quietly looking on as you moved about.

 Jewels of every size, color and cut were decoratively placed within rectangular glass casings along either side of the first floor of the trendy store swathed in white walls and artificial illumination. Set within the walls themselves were square nooks that housed singular pieces separated from the rest that were couched on plush satin. The entire place was full of glittering jewelry that beckoned the eye, but your boyfriend had been noticed the way that you bit at your cheek as you passed them all by in your indecision since the collection of necklaces, rings, earrings and bracelets were all so pretty to you.

 When he’d risen to inquire about any other pieces, the store representative had seemed reluctant at first to give such critical information, but it had taken only a moment for the older woman to retreat to the back to retrieve one of the store’s most coveted pieces that only respected customers could have the privilege of even looking at after Jungkook had, without your notice, stuck his hand into the inside pocket of his Gucci suit jacket to pull out a thick wad of American bills and rupees, his Rolex watch revealing itself from under the sleeve of the black outer garment whilst he did.

 When the woman had returned with a black lacquered box in her hand to set it down on the four-legged glass table and told Jungkook that the necklace inside was one of the store’s most prized possessions, his interest had been piqued as he called you over and, with a questioning expression, he’d chuckled as he walked over to you to gently ease you forward with a hand on the small of your back you’d come to before the little chest.

 He’d been gentle as he’d urged you to open it as you stared at the box, ever the patient man that he was as he waited for you to finally lift the lid of the chest. You hadn’t known what to expect when you heeded him, but it certainly hadn’t been the article of jewelry inside as it immediately drew your eye as your breath hitched at the sight of it.   

 Sat on bed of velvet, you’d grown fond of it the second you saw it in the way it glinted with each sliver of light that seemed to be drawn toward it. It commanded attention in the way it glittered and glistened in the rays of light that bounced off it and innocently, your fingers hovered over it yet never touched for the fear that you might destroy something so fragile and delicate.

 You hadn’t trusted yourself with it, but Jungkook had been all too eager to lift it up and off its resting place to lay it over your neck before clasping it around you and telling you to look in the mirror at yourself.

 Beset in white gold, diamonds grew within two thin metal vines that trailed and wrapped around your neck amidst buddings of flowers that intermingled along each side, the pistils of gems at their centers made of rubies. Upon the dip of the necklace along the notch between your clavicles, a slightly smaller floweret sprouted a larger one beneath it and connected to that was a falling petal that dangled prettily just under your collarbones.

 “You look beautiful in that, my precious flower. Its charm becomes you well, pretty girl.”

 Upon his praise, you’d preened as you’d thanked him for the adulation and before you could do anything else, he’d slid his black card out of black snakeskin Gucci wallet before telling the associate to simply ‘run it through’ with no hesitation as he drew his lip between his teeth as he watched you lightly skim your fingers over the ornate piece of jewelry.

 The representative had informed him when she’d brought it out that it was a grand total of $37,713 and yet, he would gladly give that small bit of money to bejewel you so that you could shine like the gem that you were to him. You never asked for any material things nor expected them of him like other women once did in your poorer upbringing that had left you destitute and in debt when you’d met him and despite all of that, you never requested aid from him and it was one of the reasons why he enjoyed lavishing such gifts on you in addition to paying off your school of his own volition even amidst your efforts to tell him that he didn’t have to (and yet he always wanted to wherever you were concerned).

 He’d assured you once more how lovely you looked, your cheeks turning red as the rubies you wore as he came behind you to plant his mouth under the clasp of the necklace along your nape, one of your hands reaching back to intermingle with his own as you’d quietly let him know how grateful you were and that he really didn’t have to expend so much effort to show you how he felt about you to which he wrapped his arms around you to seep the waters of his truth into you as he’d answered, “ Nonsense, petal. I want you to accept this so that whenever anyone looks at you and asks who got this for you,” he’d let his lips wander along flowing foliage of gems and gold as he’d soiled you with his kisses, “you will tell them that your boyfriend, whom you love so much, was the one who got it for you,” his mouth had lifted as he’d inched close to the shell of your ear as you shivered in the hot breath that prickled at your skin, “When you’re torn away from me because of work or anything else, I want you to remember that you twined yourself around me like the vines on this necklace and that I fell for you as surely as the petal that descends from it.”

 You’d been helpless to whimper at that as you’d turned your head to the side to meet his waiting lips that had been all too willing to receive you as you smiled into the kiss.

 Later that night, you’d been sure to show to him just how thankful you really were as you’d ridden him well through the midnight hours only to wake him with your lips wrapped around the very cock that, even in sleep, he’d ground against your ass in his voracious appetite that he liked only to consume from you.

 When you’d found yourself sitting atop him, his back lain against the headboard as you’d fucked yourself over his cock while the sun had begun to peek over the horizon, the jewels had glimmered enthusiastically amidst the riled rotations of your hips over him. Seven months later, the same brilliant bijou envelops your throat as you look down to the floor submissively like your boyfriend had taught you to do upon entry into his much larger and grander office, your fingers linking together behind your back just as he’d always instructed you to do.

 Two flat screen televisions are perched atop onyx oak media stands on either side of the room, their screens set alight with virtual fireplaces that blaze within them. Between them and atop the rug Jungkook had had brought over from India is a mid-sized sofa the color of mahogany and flanking that are two lounge chairs of colored like cream and in front of them is a square glass table. Jungkook had made sure to test the durability of just about every piece in the room, for he’d fucked you over just about everything as far as the eye could see and had done so too many times for you to even be able to count anymore in his constant craving for you.

 There are wooden blinds that span the length of every glass wall, each of them opened to allow the moon’s silvery beams to filter through them amidst the lamps positioned precariously around each corner of the room, the lampshades that top them covering the sides of the room in golden ambient incandescence that softly lights the edges of the office up in a yellowed hue that reminds you of much smaller rays of sunlight despite the moonlight that coalesces around the central figure in the room amid your boyfriend’s command that calls it forth upon him.  

 Presently, Jungkook is sat in an expensive and executive leather chair the color of soil, his legs thrown atop the wenge wood desk that was crafted and imported all the way from Africa in the rare material cut from the tough bark of the legume tree native to the country.

 You see none of this and fidget uncomfortably in the steadily oozing taint of your arousal that continues to percolate down your thigh while a voice low as a baritone emits itself from the iPhone lain over Jungkook’s desk as your boyfriend eyes you with interest, a smirk twitching at the side of one lip as he takes in your debauched state while the caller on his phone fills the room with his thick voice in the midst of the business call that he’d been made to make.

 It’s not the first time he’s had you come to him in the middle of a phone call, but you have to fight the whimper that wants to wheedle its way out of you at the memory of how he’d called you in here but a month ago to suck him off while he’d been in the middle of one with a client, his need for you too strong for him to lay to bed when he’d watched you hungrily gorge yourself on a banana from your seat in your office.

 “Jungkook, I need answers as we near the end of the fiscal year. You had many opportunities for appraisals this quarter and those preceding it and as such, I want to know where our dealers and contributors were most dense and what their appeal was so that we can draft out potential areas of interest to focus our fixed assets on. Surely in all of the trips and consultations you had for the last several months, you already have a response on the tip of your tongue.”

 “On the tip of your tongue,” your boyfriend makes a sound of thought as he taps his finger against his chin while he devours you with his roving gaze, “Perhaps I do, co-founder Taehyung. Speaking of evaluations,” your boyfriend’s voice darkens, “my secretary has been quite valuable to us.”

 At the mention of you, your heart does a flip in your chest as you fix your eyes somewhere between your feet because you know if you dare to look anywhere else, you might just become a fucking puddle of limbs on the floor.

 “Come here, Y/N,” Jungkook orders, your back straightening straight as an arrow at the instructions.

 You don’t know how you manage it with your legs as feeble as they are, but you move forward unsteadily despite the threatening numbness that leaves your ligaments dangerously close to giving out on you in the strength that has been stolen from them by your boyfriend.

 The clack of your high heels reverberates along the walls and is loud amidst the blood that pounds in your ears, your heart racing amidst the heavy, hot attention that is as warm as the sun’s rays over your bared skin as your boyfriend looks on at you.

 You move as drawn to him like he’s some kind of magnet and in the attraction for him that pulls away any rational thought, you find yourself standing before him, his hands rising to swaddle your hips in his hold. His touch, even through the black button down linen shirt that you wear, is warm and has you melting the instant his palms leisurely drag themselves up and down your sides as you relish in his attention.

 Taehyung continues with an impressed snort, “Jungkook, Jimin has informed me all about your little secretary many times over,” your boyfriend’s digits curl inward to sink into your soft skin at that as he informs, “This is not the time to be rambling about how she’s snatched both your heart and cock in each of her hands. I want facts, not sentiments.”

 “Oh, but that’s the thing, Tae,” Jungkook lilts, his grip on you tightening as he ushers you between his legs that he spreads for you, your own bones liquifying like goo under his strength that he’s spent many hours in the gym working to acquire as you make a sound of startlement when he suddenly turns you around and whisks you into his lap, your ass sitting down upon the hardened bulge that readily receives you as Jungkook chuckles in the mess of your taint that darkens the fabric of his pants where your core is perched over him to amusedly offer, “ She has erected more than just my cock, however many times it has been, I’ll have you know. She was the one who orchestrated dealings with, hm,” one hand lifts from your side so that long fingers can coax your chin up and to the side so that the two of you lock eyes, “how many dealers this year did you have coming for me, darling? Tell Taehyung here. I think he’s underestimating how useful you’ve been to me.”

 “S-sixty nine,” you blurt as the hand on your chin descends down the ‘v’ of your shirt, his deft digits popping open the small buttons without pause and the plummet you’d taken in his dilating irises that promise nothing but sin, you have to climb along their edges only to realize what you’d said and quickly you stammer as you amend, “I-I mean, 669 contractors, T-Taehyung. I helped to orchestrate that number of dealers that were taken by the company.”

 “Everything alright, baby?” Your boyfriend husks into the shell of your ear, his teeth taking one lobe between them as the last button is undone, your shirt opening to reveal your bra-clad breasts as his hand flows freer than water in the way he draggles it along your abdomen until he possessively wraps it around one breast to give you a harsh squeeze, your head falling back against his shoulder as you bite at your lip to keep quiet while your skin pebbles at his touch.

 “Jungkook,” you breathe, “do something. Please.”

 “Mmm, you’ve been so good for me, so good for the company, petal,” He emphasizes as he trails his lips down the column of your neck and you turn into the featherlight touch of his lips and between them, he utters,” Don’t you agree, Jimin?”

 Your eyes widen at the name despite the heat that fertilizes your arousal deep in your core, but you don’t dare look away from Jungkook without permission. Your boyfriend nips at the tender spot along the base of your neck where the garden of jewels wrap themselves around you that he’d bought for you months prior and it is only when the hand on your breast slowly streamlines downwards to slip under the waistline of your skirt to slide between your sopping folds that he hisses into your ear, “Fuck, baby, are you that turned on in the knowledge that he just watched me do all this to you?” You moan, but it is trapped behind the hand he covers your mouth with while his fingers prod at your hole, your entrance begging him to find himself in your wet warmth in the way you clench around nothing as he rasps, “Look at him, babygirl. I want you to see what you’ve done to him because you just can’t resist me, can you? Go on, doll. Make him fall to his knees for you just like I did.”

 With your head still laid against his shoulder as he lavishes you in the brush of his soft lips against you, you shift your visage away from your boyfriend with some effort, your irises wandering from Jungkook’s deadly distending ones that are colored black as a shark’s in the predatory way he looms above you to those of the only other man in the room that might just be a puppy in disguise with the way his light brown irises implore your own for some much wanted attention.

 Dressed in a plain black suit that contrasts his unique beauty, your CEO wears a tie over a white dress shirt that you wish you could see through to gage which of the pair of them is more muscled between the two of them. His hair is carefully styled in its parting that leaves his entire forehead naked to your sight amidst the thick tufts that arch up along the left while the right side is pressed loosely along his scalp, his sideburns extending to the middle of his ear that is ringed with three hoops along each side. Perfectly sculpted brows frame almond eyes that beg for yours and lips that rival your own boyfriend’s decorate him below a straight nose. His lower lip is slightly thicker than his upper one and they are quite shapely around the thumb he currently gnaws at much like a chew toy, his tongue longer than a dog’s as it curves under the digit while he waits for his master to give him notice.

 Jimin is entirely lost in the way that his other hand is presently wrapped around the tie as if it is a leash that keeps his hand from going lower so that he can rut into himself like you know he must want to given the white of his knuckles that mar his skin as he clutches at the thin piece of silk. His hand appears so much smaller around the article of clothing, his fingers so much shorter than your boyfriend’s that clamp down over your mouth as one finger pushes into your hole, your walls clenching around him and the whimper that wants to escape never makes it out of you and when you see Jimin’s digits begin to tremble with how tightly he holds onto the tie, you wonder what they might be able to do to you despite their littler size.

 “That’s it, babygirl,” Jungkook tells you as he runs his tongue at the sternocleidomastoid muscle cording the base of your neck, your walls contracting within you as he drives his digit back and forth with his middle finger while using the others to run along your folds as he does, your face contorting into one of pleasure as your hips buck atop him all while Jimin bites hard onto his own thumb as he watches the both of you and it is then that Jungkook mutters lowly, “Keep doing that. He’s getting hard for you, petal. He could never get as hard for you as I do, but he’s getting there, doll,” your boyfriend nibbles at your now exposed shoulder to stifle the groan when you press your ass more insistently on him as he pulls your shirt off of you to give a sotto voce demand, “Use my fingers and get yourself off with them, pretty girl. Fuck yourself on me and let him watch you fall apart on top of me, Y/N.”

 You don’t need to be told twice and, following his instruction, you plant both hands in front of you with each on one of this thighs, your fingers curling inward to pitch themselves into the grounds of built up muscle that compose his legs to lift yourself up only to sink back onto his digit that easily goes all the way down to his knuckle in how deep his digit is plunged inside you. Your whine is captured by the hand he replaces with his lips in a passionate kiss that draws all your attention back to him before they flutter closed, his mouth overtaking your own as he glides his tongue along your lower lip before twisting around your own as he feasts himself on you.

 Taehyung’s voice cuts through it all as he huffs, “I don’t know what is going on over there, but someone better give me some answers,” there’s a pause and the sound of fabric rustling when your moan writhes itself between Jungkook’s lips that are held over your mouth when a second finger is added and he deliciously curls his fingers in a come-hither motion as your hips jerk atop him and when he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth only to release your mouth and leave you in a dizzied daze amid the loss of oxygen he’d taken from you,  his lips lower to graze the nape of your neck as your head falls forward amidst the sudden jerk of your hips over him as Taehyung clears his throat, “Jimin, is what Jungkook said what you know to be true? If so, have you any idea where most of her accounts were set up so that we can look into stimulating more in those areas?”

 “So sensitive for me,” your boyfriend mouths at your skin, this thumb brushing your clit to have you stutter your hips as he works you open on top of him,” So fucking wet, too. Come on, babygirl. Show them how bad you want me. Make them wish they could fuck you every night like I do,” he husks as he impels his fingers back and forth inside you, your pussy clinging to his fingers in the lewd squelches that permeate the room and all the while, Jimin’s visage is tugged to the sight of your boyfriend’s digits disappear within your cunt as his own member begins to weep precum in want of you.

 “S-she um, well…yes, correct,” he flounders as words scramble in every direction within his mind as he observes a sex film right in front of him that is infinitely more arousing than any porno he has seen before in how receptively submissive you are to Jungkook who has you looking fucked out when he’s only just begun his ministrations on you.

 You, who has been in Jimin’s dreams and thoughts during many nights when he has been alone in bed with his only company being the pillows he’d rut into for some semblance of relief when his hand would become too tired to bear the burden of lust that you had inspired without even knowing.

 Helpless as an abandoned puppy, he can only look on as a rumble razes from between his lips s you raise yourself off of Jungkook’s digits only to fall back down on them as he scissors them into you with precision, each finger stretching you out around him as your own hands tighten their hold on his thick thighs amidst the whimper that is heaved from your lips when his thumb flicks at the bundle of nerves foresting your core to have your jerk atop his rock hard member that strains against the confines of his trousers.

 The fingers on your side bite into your skin as he constringes them around you while he leans forward to growl, “Watch it, baby. I never you said you could ride me yet,” you whine only for him to connect his lips to the spot just under your ear to suck the skin into his mouth and that has you keen as your hips careen into the fingers that have deliciously started to thrust into you as he hisses, “You want daddy’s dick, huh? Do you think you can fucking take it, doll? I’m not so sure… I think,” his thumb pressurizes itself into your clit in slight palpitations that are too calculated and measured against the rapid beats of your heart while a third finger is inserted and propelled inside to have you cry out as his tone bottoms in pitch amidst the way your back bows against him, “I think that since you were two minutes fucking late in getting here, you need to be taught a lesson about coming on time. Jimin, come here.”

 “You guys act like such children over your toys, fuck. I just wanted to have a normal business call for once,” Taehyung’s voice drones on, but there’s a slight tick to it that suggests he might not be as irritated as he wants to sound while he grumbles, “I don’t want to be privy to this. I’ve only heard Jimin’s voice get like that once when I took him to a strip club and I’m not going to stick around for your little threesome or whatever the fuck you all are about to do.”

 “Oh, but you will, co-founder Taehyung,” Jungkook’s hand rises from your hip to unclasp your bra and when he divests it off of your writhing body, it falls with a thump to the floor with the last of Jimin’s self-restraint, his fingernails digging into the silk of his tie to leave crescent moons in his palms as he rises to lick at his lips in the way that your tits sway temptingly to the motions as you jounce atop your boyfriend while Jungkook smirks, his lips hovering only an inch from your own shoulder as his irises flash darkly at Jimin when he asserts, “Jimin here has some nice, big lips and he likes to put them to use and run his mouth around me,” Jimin’s eyes widen as his teeth come down on his cheek while Jungkook’s smile lethally widens, “He’s told me all about what you did the night you came to the office in the supply closet with one of my receptionists and how you told him that you let a particular name slip from your mouth when you had your cock in someone else’s.”

Jimin’s back goes rigid as a rod and he stops midway in his journey toward you, the filaments of his tie near their tearing point with how tightly his hand is wound around it as his cheeks puff out while he peers pleadingly at Jungkook who simply ticks his head to the side, one brow arching in amusement as he asks, “What was the name again, Jimin? I’ll let you touch her if you tell Taehyung the truth. I know you must want to see how responsive she is under your fingers, yeah?”

 “For fuck’s sake, Jimin, do not listen to Jungkook-“

 “Y/N,” he softly says despite the rough hold on his tie in its stitching that has started to tear. With Jungkook’s heavy ultimatum resting on his shoulders, it really hadn’t been possible for him to crumble under its dense weight with the sweet serendipity of you that was so near that he could almost taste it.

 Your face lifts at the mention of yourself, your eyes meeting Jimin’s and in them there is surprise that is flecked by lifted brows, but it is soon smeared away by the desire that blotches them as Jungkook chooses that moment to let his tongue peek from between his lips only to trail it along the nape of your neck before closing his mouth around you to siphon you once again between them, your neck gradually becoming a woodland of reddened petals that rival the color of a rose in the passion that had been emitted in the making of them.

 Appeased, Jungkook hums, “Mmm, good boy. I knew you would listen to me. Come and claim your reward,” he husks as he circles your clit with his thumb the way he knows you like it, your end rapidly nearing as your boyfriend shoves all three fingers into you without pause at the same time that you frenziedly meet his ministrations in faltering jolts of your hips over him and when you watch Jimin tortuously pull his lower lip under his perfect buck teeth as he moves mercifully closer, you moan out when Jungkook’s middle finger prods at the cluster of nerves deep within you as your boyfriend groans at the way your slick drips down his fingers with how much taint you produce in want of them both before he goads, “Go on, Jimin. Touch her. Her tits were made by a fucking succubus. God, they’re so good for a nice cocksleeve aren’t they, babygirl?”

 “Yes, Jungkook…yes,” you breathlessly reply as your nipples harden in the cold air that prickles at your exposed skin, a dangerous jab of his fingers deep into you drawing a guttural sound deep from the recesses of your body that he expertly forges you with as his thumb swirls over your clit to leave you panting.

 In your labored suspirations, your chest heaves back and forth, your tits being pushed out and in to have Jimin’s fingers shuddering from their prison of their cage in his tie while his other hand mindlessly reaches for you.

 As he nears you, Jungkook speeds up his ministrations inside you, his fingers curving dangerously to rub against your walls that clench around him and it isn’t until Jimin hovers awkwardly by the side of Jungkook’s desk that he notices the way that Jungkook drags one hand away from your side to snake it around your abdomen and pull you flush against his chest as he clucks his tongue, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Jimin… did I tell you when you were allowed to touch her? Did you think you could just come over here and have what is mine without my permission?”

Jimin’s hand shoots away from you as if he’d been burned as he shamefully casts his visage to the floor as he speaks haltingly,” I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…she’s just pretty as a doll on your lap, Jungkook. Please, let me have her. I’ll be good to her, I promise.”

 “Did you both forget that I’m still here? Christ. I can’t believe you told Jungkook that I said the name of his damn girlfriend while I was getting sucked off, Jimin,” there’s a sound of a belt buckle opening as his voice hardens, “I guess I can’t really help it. You do have quite an eye for women, Jungkook. None more so than this one, though,” You feel the grin against you amidst the skin that is currently being suctioned between his lips as he decorates you in another necklace that blossoms in blots of purple and red under the one made of gems gleaming enticingly around you as Jungkook suddenly brings your ass down onto his clothed, yet colossal cock in time with digits that pierce you all the way to your g-spot, your eyes rolling back with your head that lands on your boyfriend’s shoulder as Taehyung cavils, “It’s her fault for getting my dick wet whenever I come to visit the office. You should thank whatever god is up there that you found such a loyal little girl to give herself to you," You preen at the words despite the fingers currently driving themselves ferociously into you as Jungkook agrees with a nod while he rambles, "I will say I tried making a move on her when I last came to the office and when she refused and instead went to your office, that's how I found myself in that supply closet."

 “So I heard from Jimin, Taehyung,” Jungkook muses as while he helixes his digits inside you without fail, the arm that still is enclosed around you pulling you back into him so that there is no space that remains between you as he hotly intones into the shell of your ear loud enough for them all to hear, “I fucked her maybe seven different ways that night because of that. She just couldn’t get enough of me, could she, babygirl?”

 You agree as you hoist yourself up only to heft yourself back down with a broken moan as Jimin turns to the table in the absence of you to rut himself into it, his face contorted into one of concentration as he tries to think about anything but how your pussy would feel around the cock that cries wantonly for you.

 “Look at him, baby,” Jungkook urges as he swirls his thumb over your clit, “he can’t even contain himself for you anymore,” he speaks up, “He just can’t take it, can he?”

 “Can…can take it, Jungkook, please. I need to feel her. Need to touch her,” Jimin manages despite the obstinate grooves of the desk that scuff and scrape his member rigidly as he tries, and fails, to simulate some semblance of relief without you as he attempts to say, “You’re t-torturing m-me. Let me do something to her, anything to her.”

 “Do you think you should be allowed to touch what isn’t yours so freely? She’s mine,” Jungkook growls as he curves his digits purposefully inside you, his own cock throbbing at the way your juices have now coated his entire hand whilst your walls flutter tellingly around him as you submerge yourself on his digits with thighs that now tremble with your rigorous efforts, a moan slewing from your lips as he slides his fingers so deep inside that they press skillfully at the bundle of nerves that has your back arching against him while he possessively wraps his hand around your throat that had been on your abdomen to keep you in place and when his thumb twiddles itself around your clit, that’s when you cry out for your boyfriend who then smirks knowingly, his eyes flitting from you only to sear into Jimin's as he arches a brow to ask, “She’s almost there, isn’t she, Jimin? How badly do you want to touch her? Beg for me and maybe I’ll let you have a small piece of her before she fucking gets stuffed full of my cock for the fourth time today.”

 Your end is so close, yet so far away. Like the waters of an ocean, it washes over your feet, but the waves of pleasure in the distance that roll deeper in the seas of rapture are too far away from you to reach as you sink into the sands that are grained with Jungkook’s control over you to keep you from moving toward it. With your end so close, you hardly even process what is said when Taehyung talks under his breath that has quickly become erratic in your sounds of ecstasy that have wrapped around his cock as he jacks himself off on the other end of the line.

 “Tell him what he wants to know, Jimin,” Taehyung advises, his voice strained through the strenuousness of his own indecent actions as he wishes it was your cunt that his cock was enveloped in while his voice deepens, “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

 “You’ll both wait until I decide when Jimin can play with what belongs to me,” Jungkook professes, his fingers speeding themselves inside you and when you whimper at the way he slides his digits deliciously inside you at the same time his thumb strikes your clit, it’s enough to have you buck your hips as he tightens his fingers around your throat in warning while he orders, “You’re not allowed to cum yet, babygirl. Don’t even think about it. I want to put my cock in you so you can warm me up for later, yeah?”

 “Jungkook, I can’t hold on for much longer,” you confess through elusive breaths as his fingers constrict around your throat for daring to admit that.

 “You’ll hold on as long as I tell you to, baby. That cunt won’t get off on its own, will it?” He husks whilst his fingers deftly stroke your walls in curled motions as his thumb falls from your clit to ream the outer lips of your sex and you sob out at the loss of stimulation to the nerves crowning your womanhood as he watches your expression change in a myriad of different countenances before you settle on submission and nod knowing that you won’t get what you want if you disobey him after many lessons imparted to you in the bedroom.

 “That’s right, baby. Obey,” Jungkook groans as you clench around him and it’s when he hears Jimin call for him in a hushed tone that a devious idea unfurls itself in his mind and he doesn’t have to look over at Jimin to see that the older man is bent over the desk and is mindlessly grinding into it to resolving none of the tension that coils around his hardened member.

 This little game was far too fun to end so soon and so Jungkook chuckles darkly as you stretch yourself open atop him, his digits tracing the sensitive skin around your hole despite the three fingers that are knuckles deep within you as he starts, “As for you, Jimin, I believe I said you’d need to beg for her if you want her that badly You do want her, don’t you?.”

 The older man stops his movements at the referral of his name, his eyes glinting pleadingly as he turns his head to lay his cheek on the table, the bones of his hands pressing taut against the whitened skin he grips the sides of the desk with as he wracks his brain for anything resembling a coherent sentence and it is the sight of you with your eyes closed and mouth parted as you rebound up and down on your boyfriend’s fingers that has his own quiver in the wish to feel you himself as he swallows to comply, “I-I want her so bad, Jungkook. I’ll…I’ll do anything you want, but please, let me touch her.”

 Jungkook seems to be satisfied with that as he nods, his irises blazing in acknowledgement as he demands, “Kneel for her, Jimin. That’s what all men eventually do for her and this precious little cunt.”

 The words are barely out of his mouth before Jimin falls before you, his hands closing around Jungkook’s knees just inches below your own that squeeze your boyfriend’s thighs in a vise-like grip.

 Need saturates his eyes and shaking fingers as he waits patiently for Jungkook to give him the green light and like this, the view he is granted might just make him cum untouched in the way that Jungkook sinfully shears his fingers in your cunt as you come down on them in frantic sweeps of your hips, his hand entirely drizzled in your essence that glistens as if to tempt him in the soft light of the room.

 He doesn’t realize that he’s salivating like a fucking dog until Jungkook gruffly commands into the shell of your ear that he flicks his tongue against, “Open your eyes, babygirl. I want you to see how fucking desperate you’ve made our little Jiminie. God, you’re fucking hot, doll. I’m so damn hard for you right now.”

 Not wanting to disobey him, you let your lids flutter open, your breath catching at the sight of the pretty boy that is on his knees for you. His once perfectly styled hair is tousled after he runs his hand through it, his tongue darting between his plush lips as he stares at you like you’re food he wants very badly to eat.

 And how you’ve wanted him to do just that for weeks, though you know deep down that Jungkook would always take you to the seventh heaven without fail.

 Your hips stutter yet again at the visage of him when you lift your head, one of your hands lifting so that your fingers can trace the outline of his shapely mouth. You are slow to make contact with his lips that are softer than a feather yet rival those of the Bratz dolls you’d play with when you were younger. He relishes in your touch and even leans into you as if to grant silent permission for more and when you run your digit down his lower lip to watch it snap back up against his teeth, you moan at the thought of what it would feel like if he-

 Your hand is suddenly pulled away as your boyfriend’s long fingers enclose themselves around your wrist as he brings your arm back to marionette it behind you and when he brings your palm down on his weeping member that sobs for you even through his trousers, that’s when you suck in a breath whilst the fingers on your throat release you to grasp your chin so that your head is turned to the side, your visage instantly being pushed back to him as he gives a devastating blow to your pussy through the twist of his fingers in your cunt to have you whine out when he jams them inside you.

 “I believe I taught you to wait for my approval before I let you do anything, didn’t I, babygirl?”

 “Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disobey,” you try even knowing that the last time he went unheeded by you, he’d left you on your bed to finish yourself off with your own hand.

 “And yet you did, baby. Do you think you deserve to cum now?” your boyfriend inquires, his fingers slackening inside you to have you whimper when he extricates them from you only to bring all three digits to his lips, his tongue laving at them as his eyes scintillate with fervor to have you clench around nothing and Jimin watches the way your essence oozes out of you without Jungkook to clog you now as your boyfriend’s irises simmer hotly into yours that he trails down your body and everywhere his gaze goes, the ire of fire is stoked in every crevice of you as he decides, “I think you need to be reminded of who really owns you. Take my cock out, babygirl. Do not make daddy wait.”

 With your back still flush against his chest, it’s hard to fight past the haze of arousal that clouds your mind. Your boyfriend knows this just by peering down at you and, taking pity on your afflicted state, he helps guide your hand to where his zipper is. With how unbelievably large he is, you don’t need to search for his cock in its obscene girth and lewd length. You don’t have to work at it his zipper for long, for it opens to you easily and really, you can’t think too much on the fact that he’s not wearing any boxers underneath his pants as his cock springs free and your fingers slip along it until you hold him in your palm.

 He’s heavy in your hand with the blood that engorges his member and your walls contract at the way his veins all but bulge out against your hand as you drag your hand down all the way to his base before gripping him to earn a groan from him that you swallow down your own throat when he draws you forward into a French kiss that leaves your tongue numb in how roughly he sucks it into his mouth.

 When you’re on the verge of losing what little breath you had left and you squeeze his cock, that’s when he releases you to rasp, “Good girl. Now, sit the fuck down on me and ride me.”

 Needing no further prompting, you raise yourself off him to line yourself up with him and when you sink down onto him and welcome him into your wet warmth, your head falls forward in the lack of ability to hold it up anymore, your mouth dropping open with the way that he fills you so wholly and completely that there is no room to think of anything but him.

 It is a lucky thing indeed that you have a birth control insert so that you don’t have to worry about anything in times such as these and it is pure bliss that pangs through every corner of your body the moment he finds his home inside you and you can only repeat his name with how deep his cock is lodged inside you.

 Below you, Jimin raptly observes how your boyfriend disappears inside you as you start to grind atop him, your hips eagerly canting him as he sits back and enjoys the show.

 “P-please, Jungkook, can I?” He questions, not caring at this point what Jungkook will let him do so as long as he can do something.

 “You know, you do have some really pretty lips, Jimin,” Jungkook considers, his irises burning into Jimin’s own in the view of him he’s given with your head down between your shoulders as you unthinkingly sweep your hips over him to have him grunt, “How about you kiss her with them?”

 A shaky breath trembles as it is dislodged from between Jimin’s lips, your eyes irises drawn to the source of the sound as you gaze into eyes that widen bigger than a Boston Terrier’s and you don’t have time to process what has just been said before a familiar hand wraps around the underside of your breast, a groan falling from your boyfriend’s mouth at how supple your skin is between his fingers as he holds one breast as if to offer it to the older man, your nipple hardening as his digits that have been chilled by the cool air cause goosebumps to raise themselves up over you.

 You watch as Jimin’s sight becomes entirely transfixed by the way that Jungkook’s hand completely closes around your tit whilst you continue to gyrate your hips atop him, a wantful moan releasing itself from your throat when Jungkook leans forward to take the clasp of the necklace he bought for you between his teeth as he pulls it back with him so that you follow him when he seats himself against the backrest of the chair once more.

 In the movement, your breasts sway while you pirouette your hips around Jungkook and, as if to entice Jimin, your boyfriend swirls his thumb around your areola that puckers itself out around the cold digit that draws itself around it.

 Jimin makes a sound akin to a wail and it’s what has Jungkook smirking wolfishly behind you as he taunts, “I bet it must be so difficult to just sit there and watch her get fucked so well, isn’t it? You want her, Jimin? Kiss her.”

 You observe the way that Jimin’s tongue swipes itself along his lips and the blonde haired man before you does not need to be told again before he slants himself forward and, all in one movement, opens his mouth to take the breast your boyfriend holds inside it.

 “Ah…please,” you whimper as his warm lips heat your cooled skin and your boyfriend chooses that moment to constringe his fingers around your breast to the same time that Jimin’s agile tongue flicks along the underside of your tit. His mouth and tongue are smaller than your boyfriend’s, but you’re beyond the point of caring as both men make it their motive to please you.

 When your boyfriend plants hot kisses to the tip of your spine right under your nape and below the fastener of the necklace he’d just been tugging on, Jimin seems to notice and suddenly, he’s hollowing his cheeks as he suckles from your tit like a newborn babe.  

 You splutter as your waist stammers atop of your boyfriend once more as he drives his hips into you, a grin lifting at his features as Jimin hums in satisfaction at the way your flesh melds around his mouth, the vibrations shooting like an arrow straight down to your cunt as your boyfriend impels himself inside you with a powerful thrust that had been drawn from the bow of his own hips.

 It’s enough to have you keen, one of your hands lifting behind you and back to tangle in the roots of your boyfriend’s tresses while your other cards through Jimin’s locks as you encourage both of them while you plead, “Please, don’t…don’t stop. I’m getting c-close.”

 “What are you guys fucking doing to her? She sounds like she’s about to break,” Taehyung comments against the slick sounds of his hand fastening its pace along his length as he chides, “Jungkook, it’s rude to ignore your superior when he’s asking you questions.”

 “You should consider it a privilege that I am allowing you to be part of this at all considering that you tried to take what will never be yours,” Jungkook groans when you pull at his hair while you swivel your hips erratically over him as you turn your head to the side to peer at him with a gaze that appears as fucked out as he will soon feel and he makes haste to attach his lips to the spot beneath your ear, his tongue darting along your sensitive skin while Jimin doubles his efforts on your breast to have you whining and when your boyfriend releases you, his other hand latches onto your neglected breast, his fingers expertly tweaking your nipple between them to have your own fingers tightening along your boyfriend’s thigh at the same moment that your walls contract around his member in warning whilst he amusedly discloses, “Since you’ve you been so complacent today, however, I think I will be merciful and let Jimin, your dear best friend, explain.”

 With your breast still in his mouth, Jimin’s eyes have become clouded by the lust that hazes them and Jungkook grins at the sight of the elder man’s ruin while he manages, “I…I’m sucking at her tit, Taehyung. Jungkook was right. They’re so soft in my mouth,” he draws shapes along your areola as he swallows and it’s only when you let your fingernails trail along his scalp that he is coaxed into continuing, “Jungkook is, well… she’s riding him and facing me so that I can see everything. You’d probably c-come if you saw this, Tae. She’s…she’s absolutely heaven in my mouth and her pussy just keeps swallowing Jungkook like it can’t get enough of him. It’s hotter than anything we’ve ever seen at the s-strip club.

 “Good boy, Jimin. So obedient for me. You may have your reward now,” Jungkook grunts while you bear yourself down on him at the same time that he slams his hips up into you all while he gropes at both breasts in his mission to have as much of you as he possibly can before he instructs, “Kiss her where she needs us most, Jimin. Taste her for yourself and see how fucking divine she is and understand why all men eventually get on their fucking knees for this cunt of hers.”

 The sounds of sluiced skin reverberate through the phone that lays innocently on the desk despite the sin unfolding around it and Jimin does as he’s told like the perfect little student and before you realize what’s happening, he liberates your breast from his mouth and delivers devastating osculation down your chest in flurried busses amidst lips soft as snowflakes as he descends down your body slowly.

 Your own movements atop your boyfriend’s member quicken in the rapid anticipation driving you back and forth on him and when you watch him pause his ministrations when he gets to the apex of your thighs, for you are entirely fascinated by the way that Jimin draws his lower lip between his teeth as he stares at your sex that greedily clings to your boyfriend’s dick.

 When his eyes roam upward and he meets your own, something flares in them to stoke the already fierce fire within you and when you curl your fingers in his locks to encourage him toward you, he relinquishes to you as if he’s merely your own plaything that you can do with as you wish.

 When his mouth finally affixes itself to the bundle of nerves that sit above your glistening folds, you cry out as your cunt closes around your boyfriend’s member, your fingers tethering onto them both as your thighs begin to tremble once more in the attention that is lavished on you between them.  

 Your boyfriend’s fingers find themselves winding around your neck once more as he draws your back against his chest and he croons, “Are you close, my love? Do you want Jimin to help you cum on me?” He hums when you nod frenetically to say, “I bet it must be really difficult not to let go and get daddy all dirty with your cum, huh? That’s alright. I’ll let you finish on me soon, but first,” his fingers constrict around your throat as he breathes into the shell of your ear, “What did I tell you that you need to do when you want something?”

 Language lurks somewhere in your addled brain and, as if to save you from punishment, Jimin lightens his ministrations to your cunt and instead airily pecks at your clit as you search your mind for what your boyfriend wants to hear.

 The longer you take, the more compactly his fingers curve around your throat and it’s when the hand still around your breast possessively squeezes you that breathe the air that begins to threaten to enter your airway as you respond,” Words, sir. You have taught me that I need to use my words to get what I want.”

 “That’s my girl. You’ve been so good for daddy, haven’t you?” He asks as he propels his hips into you in a harsh sweep of his hips that you readily receive as your walls welcome him.

 “Yes,” you suspire when his fingers release you around your throat to dive down and rest on your hip as he eagerly pulls you back down on him to earn a whimper from you, “I want..want to cum on you, daddy. Will you let your babygirl have her release, please? Want it so bad. Want you so badly, sir.”

 “Mmm,” your boyfriend hums, “I like it when it you beg for me. Since you’ve been so well behaved and let daddy do whatever he wanted with you, I will give it to you,” he says between kisses down your spine that his own bones will allow him to grant you before he straightens and speaks up, “Jimin, take her into your mouth once more, but this time, make love to her with your lips while her boyfriend fucks her tight little cunt, yeah? I want to see if she’ll squirt for us.”

 Jimin does just as he’s told, his mouth closing around your clit at the same time that your boyfriend crams himself inside you whilst his hand whorls around your areola as you squirm atop him. Jimin is tentative in the way he brushes the bundle of nerves with his tongue, but your boyfriend is surefire in the way he pistons himself up into you, your cunt fluttering around him in warning as you blurt,” C-close, Jungkook. Please-“

 “Cum all over me, babygirl. Get daddy all fucking wet and cream all over these pants that you fucking ruined because you need me so bad,” your boyfriend declares, both of his hands reaching for and trapping one breast in their hold as you fuck yourself over him before he husks, “Let Jimin see how good you are for me, doll. Show him how much you love my cock by coming around me and soaking me in your sweet juices, baby.”

 It is with a devastating swipe of Jimin’s thick tongue against your clit while your boyfriend tweaks your nipples between his fingers as he drives his hips purposefully into you that you throw your head back, your eyes rolling as you careen off the edge of the release you’d been dangling over for so long. It hits you like a watery wave that cascades over you and you scream out your boyfriend’s name as your walls swell around him and he throbs inside you while your walls clench repeatedly in their need to keep him locked within you until the last of your release has deluged you.

 Your essence pours down from the rainforest of your sex and you don’t know how long your womanhood ebbs and flows with it as your body is flooded with endorphins that liquifies your insides as Jungkook fucks you through it whilst Jimin sucks at your clit without pause, his tongue lapping at your sopping center that is doused with your taint like he’s a starved man eating away at the delicatessen that is you.  

 “That’s it, babygirl. Let him taste how fucking delectable you are,” your boyfriend croons, his lips securing themselves to your exposed shoulder to bring your flesh between his teeth as he too suctions you within his mouth as he coos, “She’s getting me all wet, isn’t she, Jimin? Does she taste as good as she looks? Come on, tell me, pretty boy.”

 Jimin releases you once he runs his tongue between your silken folds, his entire chin smeared in your essence as wipes it away with the back of his hand before licking away at that which has soiled his own skin as he peers with a hooded gaze up at you to confirm, “She’s sweeter than honey, Jungkook. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted pussy that appetizing. I…I could eat her out all day.”

 “Of course you could,” Jungkook amusedly replies, one hand settling on your hip to still your shaking limbs as his aching cock sobs for more within you, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your side while the digits of his other palm fondly trace the blooming petals of red and purple marring every inch of your throat and shoulders as he muses, “And what of you, babygirl? Did daddy take good care of you?”

 “Yes,” you try between labored breaths despite the way you lean into your boyfriend’s wandering fingers, “You treated me so well, sir. Felt so amazing.”

 Your boyfriend watches you lay your head back onto his shoulder, a smirk rising along the edges of both lips in amusement as he observes how your eyes flutter closed, your body sagging back against him despite the cock that is still lodged balls deep inside you.

 “I do hope that’s not all that you’ve got to give me, babygirl,” Jungkook tells you, the fingers along your nape ascending until he’s grasping your chin to urge your head to the side so that you stare into his simmering irises that are quick to light the fire of desire within you anew before he darkly declares, “because daddy’s not done with you yet.”

 Your breath hitches at that and Jungkook finds it adorable that your eyes manage to widen so largely while Jimin’s own just about bulge from his head at the insinuation.

 “D-daddy, I don’t know if I can take it,” you hardly manage to get out before he roughly consumes them himself, his mouth attaching to yours and drawing what little breath you had left away from you as his tongue glides across your lower lip before he nips at you in punishment.

 When he pulls away, you’re left entirely breathless as he taunts, “You will do what I tell you to because you want to please me, don’t you? You say that you can’t handle more, but you’re the same person that begs for my cock every night because you’re such a fucking slut for me, aren’t you?”

 “I…” You trail off when his irises dip languidly down your body until they souse themselves where you are still connected to him and underneath that, the collection of your slick that you’ve deposited over every inch of his nether region.

 “Cat got your tongue, baby? Or should I say cock got your tongue because of how needy for me that little cunt is?” He asks with a flick of a dark, sculpted brow.

 Despite the release that has just washed over you, you find the tide of lust soaking you through  with each word he speaks, your core dripping even more of your essence onto the pool of it that has accumulated over Jungkook.

 Jimin only looks on in rapt interest, his own cock quivering with the want that strikes him through at the spectacle of you spread open atop of your boyfriend.

 “Did she get off on you, Jungkook? Shit, that’s got me hard again,” Taehyung curses through the phone that had long been forgotten by you and Jungkook in the rapture that had befallen you both.

 “She did, Taehyung. She loved it, too,” your boyfriend affirms as you nuzzle him affectionately before he chuckles at your adorability, “She’s ready for round two now, I think. Jimin,” Jungkook’s blackened irises sear into the elder man’s, “You are to go to the couch over there and strip for her, but keep the tie on. Once you’re done with that, lay down on your back and wait for my precious doll to come to you when I tell her to. Got it?”

 “I-I understand.” Jimin responds as he stands, his knees sore from being on them too long as he leaves the two of you and begins divesting himself of his attire much to none of the notice of the both of you.

 Jungkook allows you to nudge his neck with your nose, your warm breaths tickling his skin and when you make the mistake of shifting, he hisses, “Careful, baby. You wouldn’t want me to take you right here again, now would you?”

 You lick at your lips while you stare openly at his, the hand that still is entrenched in his tresses sliding down to cup the base of his neck as you apologetically blink up at him to admit, “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to.”

 “I know you didn’t, petal,” he caresses your cheek with the knuckles of his hand before he helps you off of him only to turn you around in his lap, his still hard cock springing back against his chiseled abdomen and it is only when you face him that he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear to praise, “You’ve been so good for me, baby. Do you want me to give you a reward?”

 “You already have, my love,” you whisper as you lean forward to kiss the freckle beneath his bottom lip that you love so much before you tell him again, “You already have.”

 “So wonderful for me,” he adulates as he cups your cheek and runs the pad of his finger along it to utter, “Wanna make you come again, beautiful. Will you let me?”

 You nod, your own hand taking his tie between your fingers and twirling it around them as you bite your lip, “You already know the answer a thousand times over, Jungkook. I want to please you, too. Can I?”

 The hand on your waist wraps around you to pull you close so that you hover only an inch or so away from him and he groans at the way your hand closes around the base of his member to stroke him tortuously, his eyes flashing perilously as his own fingers enfold themselves around you to hold you in an iron hold as he husks, “You want to make me feel good, baby? Fine. Take off this shit covering my chest. I want feel you against me when I fuck you so good you’ll beg for me never to stop.”

 The ire of desire blazes at that within you, your fingers quickly moving to unknot the tie wound around the base of his neck. You make quick work of it, for you’d been the same one who had put it on him this morning after he’d taken you in the shower and bed. The coat is next and he has to let go of you for a tormenting amount of seconds that drag on agonizingly slow in the loss of you, but once you get rid of the suit jacket he’d had you pick out for him, the black dress shirt is mercifully the last piece of clothing that separates you from him.

 You salivate as you pop open the buttons that had already been opened down to the middle of his chest and with each iota of flesh kissed by the sun that is revealed to you, your salivary glands reproduce within your mouth to birth even more spittle as you hurriedly undo the fastenings of his garment. When the last button has been unsecured, that’s when you wet your lips amidst the aridity of desire that has dried them, your irises drinking him in as if drunk off of him as hunger coils low in your stomach.

 Muscle cords every inch of him and the six pack that proudly ridges itself along his abdomen boasts its vigor in the way that they jump against your fingertips that lightly trace along the tautened skin that is so eager to receive you against it.

 You push the shirt open thirstily amidst your throat that suddenly has become dryer than the Sahara desert as your irises roam upward to pectorals that must have been crafted by the gods in the thew of musculature that surrounds them.

 His darkly colored nipples stand to attention as you draw your fingernails over them to earn a growl from him as he takes both hands and pins them behind your back in one of his own while his other coaxes your chin up as he lifts your head so that you have nowhere to look but his eyes that burn with want into your own as he warns, “If you keep doing that, I’m not going to be able to handle myself. Don’t you want to play with Jimin? If you want to toy with me instead,” his voice hardens as your walls contract around nothing, “I’m more than happy to entertain you myself.”

 You whine at his restraint and he simply clucks his tongue at you, “ I know that it’s hard to control yourself around me, babygirl, but wait just a bit longer for daddy, okay? Look,” he urges you to peer over at the couch that presents Jimin to you both and the man lies on his back as he’d been instructed to, his hand on cock as he palms at himself while he watches the two of you, “he’s waiting for you, doll. See what you’ve done to him?”

 You can only whimper at the sight of the erect dick that sticks out of the pants he’s left open, his own coat long discarded with his dress shirt to leave only his black tie that dangles just before his cock. He’s about half the size of your boyfriend (of whom has the most monstrously made cock you’ve ever had the pleasure of having inside you), but you have not a care in the world about that as you observe the precum that he swirls around the head of his member, his eyes hooded as he gazes at you and calls for you, “Y/N…please…”

 You hardly realize what you’re saying before the words leave you in stilted whisper, “Want you both. Want you to fuck me so well like you always do while I play with him, daddy,” you pull your sight away from Jimin to glance back at your boyfriend who is smirking cockily as you ask, “Can I have your permission?”

 “Since you asked so nicely,” Jungkook ghosts his lips along your jawline, “go ahead, baby. Go warm yourself up on him and get ready for me, yeah?”

 “Yes, sir,” you answer breathily whilst he attaches his mouth along the edge of your maw and flicks his tongue devilishly against you before pulling away to help you up, the hand that had been holding your own prisoner releasing you to find the zipper amid your backside only to pull it open, your skirt sliding down your legs to puddle around your feet.

 You thank whatever force of nature had made you decide on your white lace thong for the day because Jimin’s gasp from behind you is audible to your ears as you preen at Jungkook’s own hitched breath that is fast to deepen into a growl as each thumb hooks under the sides of the panties he’d bought for you, his irises dilating at the sight he’d been denied when he’d been fucking you earlier.

 “Can’t believe you were wearing these for me, babygirl. You really do want to tempt daddy into losing his fucking mind over that pussy, huh? Such a fucking whore for me,” he rasps as he pulls the pearled strings of the panties apart so that they too join your skirt on the floor as you rub your thighs together amid the finger he slides between your glistening folds, your own hands finding his shoulders and clutching onto him as you moan, your head falling back as he rubs his digit along your slit.

 “Only for you, Jungkook,” you tell him as he spreads your legs apart with his other hand whilst the one currently nestled between your folds drags along your labia.

 “As you should be, baby,” he announces as he collects your juices and brings two fingers to his mouth only to suck on them as heat floods your core at the damning view of that as he groans at your succulent taste, “Now go and prepare yourself for me. Rub yourself on top of Jimin’s little cock and when I’m ready, I’ll join you.”

 He waits for you to take a step away from him, your knees buckling under you as your weight makes them wobble after what your boyfriend has allowed to be done to you and before you have time to let fear grip you in your descent toward the floor, his hands are there to grasp each side of your waist to steady you whilst your own grapple for each of his wrists as you cling to him for support.

 A strong chest melds itself to your back once more as he chuckles, “Everything okay, baby?”

 “Yeah,” you nod, “I’m fine. Thank you.”

 “Think nothing of it, doll,” he lowers his head to whisper hotly into your ear, “When I’m done with you, you won’t even be able to walk, let alone stand, my love. Now, hurry along,” he ushers you forward and watches you stumble forth amidst the heels that you kick off in effort to reorient yourself with using your feet, a grin rising along his lips as he takes in your cuteness before his eyes flick down to the phone still sat atop his desk, “You’re being awfully quiet over there, Taehyung. Has the masturbation brought you that much satisfaction while you imagined it was my girlfriend that you were trying to fuck?”

 “Shut the fuck up, brat,” Taehyung huffs in annoyance.

 “Brat? Is that what you call the man that let you listen in while he fucked his soon to be fiancé? Interesting,” he muses as he runs a hand through his hair, his tongue poking against his cheek in visage that is not missed by you, your heart fluttering at the words he’d many times uttered to you in the tender aftercare of passionate lovemaking and you smile at that despite the gruffness to which your boyfriend speaks with next as his irises find and melt into yours, “Such an ungrateful prick that you are, Taehyung. Since you want to act like a dick, I think I’ll just leave you to trying to keep your own hard while I ravage my girlfriend. How does that sound for being a brat?”

 “Jungkook, do not hang up on me,” Taehyung cautions, “You’ll regret it. As co-founder of this company, I can take her from you.”

 Jungkook growls, his jaw clenching at the same time that you sex contracts around nothing as he ticks his head to the side in a habit you’ve grown fond of whenever he’s especially unappeased with something as he bites out, “You dare to threaten me, Taehyung? You have the audacity to challenge me for what has always been mine and that which fucking ran from you and into my waiting arms when you tried to make advancements on my fiancé? You’ve just awoken the fucking lion, co-founder Taehyung,” Jungkook spits out, “Try me and you’ll get the fucking claws. She is mine and I decide where she goes, got it?”

 “Such a child,” Taehyung laughs mirthlessly from the other end.

 “Such a fool,” Jungkook jabs, “to lose to the likes of a child that will now ravish what you’ve sought after for years and yet, she chose me. She’ll always choose me.”

 “Jungkook, if you end this call, I’ll-“

 The man never finishes his sentence, for Jungkook terminates the call with the press of a finger, his chest puffing out in a show of virility that has you wanting to whimper for him as his eyes lift from the screen to your own to raze your insides with heat of a wildfire as he demands, “Get on Jimin right now before I change my mind and take you home to screw you senseless into our bed until I’ve fucked all this irritation out of me.”

 Desire flares in your sex as you quickly plant both hands on Jimin’s much narrower chest and swing your leg over him until you sit astride him on the couch, your irises pulled into the magnets of your boyfriend’s eyes that attract you so even when you’re straddling another man.

 He stalks forward towards you and, needing to relieve some of the knotted tension between your thighs, you shift and seat yourself over Jimin’s smaller cock, your mouth parting as you rub yourself along his length only to plead for you boyfriend, “Jungkook…more. Come to me, please.”

 Your voice wraps around your boyfriend like cool water on a stinging wound and, promptly, the anger that had begun to well up within him is drained by you as you implore him with begging eyes whilst you drag yourself over Jimin’s hardened length and Jungkook is helpless to watch as Jimin’s veiny member slides between your still sopping folds as you draw yourself along his dick.

 The elder man stays quiet, his hand rising to cover his mouth to stifle the sounds he’d make so as not to bear the brunt of whatever Taehyung had done to Jungkook, for he knows full well that Jungkook could snap if you do not completely calm the storm that had begun to brew within him.

 Your boyfriend looms ever closer and, like a predator to its prey, he stands tall above your much smaller body as his irises distend over you and he devours the sight that is you as you work yourself over Jimin and lather him in your essence. His already rearing member prods at your hole on one particular sweep of your hips over him and your boyfriend catches the way your breath is shakily exhaled from you as you peer up at him and only him, for you do not dare to look away when he’s looking at you like you’re a five course meal he’d eagerly eat.

 And gorge himself on you he does, because in the next moment, he’s behind you and sitting on his knees as his fingers spread your ass apart to reveal a puckered hole for him. His dick twitches at the thought of what he will soon do, one finger tracing the rimmed entrance that borders the back of your ass and when his finger is replaced with his mouth, that’s when you moan only for him to shove his tongue inside you as he suckles at your asshole.

 “Fuck, you’re still so tight even after the many times I’ve fucked you right here. Relax for me if you want my cock, Y/N. You want it, don’t you?”

 “Yes,” you breathe, “want it so much, sir. Please, give it to me. I’m ready.”

 Jimin, utterly enticed by the way your breasts bounce in your movements, leans up to take one in his mouth while your boyfriend opens you up for him, your walls rigid at first yet soon they soften to grant Jungkook greater access as he preps you.

 The tight ring of muscle around Jungkook’s tongue loosens around him when Jimin dances his tongue along the floor of your tit that he welcomes into his mouth, pleasure lighting you up inside like dynamite as you buck your hips over the elder man’s length.

 “You’re not ready if daddy has to work this much to get you to open up for him, baby. No matter,” he hums even with his tongue still stuck inches deep within you to send vibrations at sonic speed to your core as he goes on, “I don’t mind fucking you with my mouth if it means you’ll be able to take my big, fat cock.”

 When Jungkook pushes in a finger to join the tongue that swirls around your asshole, that’s when your back bows inward as he strings you like the puppet your body is for him around his digits, his finger curling inside you devastatingly as his tongue whorls around it to have you stutter, “P-please. Don’t want to wait for you anymore, daddy. Need you inside me now.”

 “You want something to fill that little cunt of yours?” Jungkook’s tongue extricates itself from you only for two fingers to take its place beside the one he’d already put into you as all three scissor you and you can only make a choked sound until he orders, “Then try and see if you can fit Jimin’s fucking dick inside it and keep his cock warm until mine joins it in your fucking ass.”

 Your boyfriend’s fingers shear into you with precision as you obey, your fingernails biting into Jimin’s pecs as you align yourself with his thinner cock and finally sink down on it to sit obediently on top of him in wait of your boyfriend’s next set of instructions. When your boyfriend takes you like this, usually you feel like you’ll burst with how large he is and how wholly he fills you. Jimin, however, is a miniature version that is much easier to maneuver yourself on without the colossal member attached to your boyfriend that you’ve known to satisfy you for so long now.

 Jimin’s eyes shut as he releases your breast from his mouth only to litter the underside of it with light kisses. He’s careful not to mar your flesh with his mark, for you do not belong to him and he knows that doing so will only stir Jungkook’s wrath later on, so he chooses to be wiser and avoid that as your hips still upon the final inch of him that you seat yourself on as Jungkook’s hands grip your sides roughly for leverage as the three fingers he’s plunged in you are impelled into you in forceful motions that have you whining in want of him.

 “You listen so well, baby. Your ass is so fucking tense, but I guess it’s been a while since I fucked you back here, huh? I’ll have to keep it in mind to put my cock in your ass more often, I think.” He draws his fingers out of you, his fingertips grazing your walls on the way only for him to propel them roughly within you as you fight the urge to ride the man beneath you as Jungkook asks, “Are you ready for me? I don’t think I can wait for you any longer, baby. I’ve been without you for long enough.”

 “Please,” you beg as you present your ass to him the best that you can while you’ve got a dick nestled between your netherlips, “Want you so badly, Jungkook. Let me have your big cock. You always take me so well with it.”

 The words have hardly left your mouth before the fingers inside you are pulled out, the tip of his well lubricated dick prodding at your hole as his fingers tighten along your sides for him to apprise, “Once I start, I won’t be able to stop until you’re milking the dick inside you while you beg for the mercy only I can give to you. This is your last warning.”

 You feel the shift of the couch behind you as your boyfriend rises to his knees, his tip poking at your hole as he hovers over you.

 Your hand closes around his wrist as you look back at him to offer, “I won’t stop you. I won’t ever stop you, my love. Do it. Let me feel you inside me once again, for the absence of you is too difficult to bear,” you release a sigh of satisfaction as he inches himself inside you as you breathe,” I yearn for you, Jungkook. Let me have you.”

 You watch your boyfriend’s eyes darken as he taunts, “You want me, baby? You can fucking have me.”

 With that, he plunges his cock into you without pause, a slight burn searing your walls as he stretches you out with his member as you cry out his name. You’re jostled atop of Jimin in the power that Jungkook sheathes himself into you with, your sex riding Jimin’s member without either of you doing anything in the aftershocks of what Jungkook quakes your body with as his teeth bite at the nape of your neck whilst he pummels you ruthlessly.

Pleasure pangs through you as your boyfriend rocks into you from behind and, wanting Jimin to do something to quell the need that smolders within you, your fingers wrap around the tie still draped around his neck as you pull it so that he’s made to sit up as you narrow your eyes, “Fuck me, Jimin. Let me see if you can please me like my future husband can. No one has ever made me feel as good as he has. Show me what you can do to me, Jimin.”

 He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the movement and when your boyfriend thrusts violently into you to have your back arching and your eyes rolling to the back of your head, Jimin’s irises set determinedly before he impetuses his hips within you to have you moan out for them both.

 “No one fucks you like I do,” Jungkook hisses as he rams into you, your fingers constricting around the tie as you inhale the same air that Jimin releases in what little space settles between your lips as you bounce on the blonde-haired man while your boyfriend grunts, “And when I have you in our bed later tonight, I’ll make sure to fucking remind me you of that. The only reason he’s here right now is because I can’t say no if it means my babygirl will be happy.”

 You bob atop of Jimin as Jungkook continues to pound you, his dick far too little for your cunt that has become too used to the fullness of your boyfriend who splits you open every time he’s inside you and you whine in desire of more, your forehead resting against Jimin’s as you release his tie and drag his hand up so that it envelops your breast, his tiny fingers a stark contrast to Jungkook’s much longer ones as they stroke your supple skin while you part your lips for him and wait for him to take the offering you give to him.

 “Kiss me, Jimin,” you plead, your other hand laying itself over his cheek amidst the jerking field of vision your boyfriend wracks you in as you breathe, “Let me prove to him that your lips are as pretty as they look.”

 “My…my lips are pretty?” He swallows as you nod and he meets you willingly with soft, plushy lips that are soft as pillows against you and he’s much gentler than Jungkook as his tongue tentatively drapes itself over your own as it asks for entrance and when you grant it, his warm muscle dances with your own to the rhythm of your rapidly beating heart, his digits splaying themselves over your breast to rub soothing circles into them as he holds you close, your whimper taken into his mouth as your hips rotate atop him so that his length brushes the very edge of the cluster of nerves deep within you that your boyfriend aids in pushing him further into you with alongside the shove of his own cock into your ass.

 Jungkook swivels his own hips into you while he watches Jimin tilt his head to the side to receive you, the two of you soon becoming enraptured with each other as he traces your lips with his tongue whilst you nibble at his bottom lip.

 “Keep going, Jimin, you’re making her feel good,” Jungkook husks.

 With each kiss, Jimin seems to grow bolder, his lips soon traveling southward as he busses your chin and then down the column of your throat as you lift your head to give him access. He’s sure to let his tongue brush your flesh as he goes, your core clenching around him when he laves his tongue over your nipple that you lower into his mouth.

 “That’s it, Jimin, keep going. She’s getting wet again, isn’t she?” Jungkook inquires, one hand dipping from your side so that his fingers slide through your soddened folds as he groans, “Fuck, she’s so wet for us, Jimin. She likes what you’re doing, doesn’t she, babygirl?”

 “Ah-“ you gasp when he attaches his lips to your abused breast, his tongue lapping at your nipple as he you gyrate your hips atop him before Jungkook pounds into you once more, “I like it so much. Your mouth is so much better than I ever thought it would be, Jimin, fuck.”

 “I’m glad you think so, Y/N,” he mouths from around the tit that is presently within his mouth, his lips caressing your sensitive skin as he says, “You don’t know how long I thought about doing this,” the hand that still enfolds your other tit warmly kneading at it as he licks at your hardened bud to continue, “You have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss you here, how much I wanted to feel you like this.”

 “Consider yourself lucky that I’m the one allowing you to do what you are to her, Jimin. If it were any other man she’d asked me to do this with, I’d have said no. Want to know why?”

 “Why?” Jimin mutters against the slick ‘pop’ that his mouth makes as he relinquishes your breast only to focus on the other, his hand draggling down your stomach to catch on the press of his cock against his palm from within you as you moan when he bucks up into you as Jungkook burrows brusquely inside you.

 “Because,” Jungkook smirks knowingly at the blonde-haired man as he damns you with his cock through a devastating blow of his hips into you, the sounds of skin slapping sluicing the air around him as Jungkook confesses, “ You’re the only male that’s been around her for more than a week and not succumbed to her fucking charms that she likes to cast on just about everyone that owns a dick.”

 “It’s not my fault,” you pout and Jimin takes the opportunity to sweep his thumb under your lip as you turn your head into his touch so that he swipes his digit along your lip that you eagerly pucker your lips against in a fleeting kiss to his finger before you take his wrist to tug it down the line of your chin and along the column of your throat until he’s descending among the valley of your breasts while Jungkook jostles you forward and back. When Jimin’s fingers nurture the bud of nerves hedging the garden of your pussy, you moan, “How can I be blamed when I don’t even do anything but get their cocks wet for me, daddy?”

 “It’s all a game to you, isn’t it? God, you look like a fucking ragdoll with how rough you’re being handled, babygirl,” Jungkook says as he slams his hips into you to give a grunt, “Of course it’s your fault when you look like such a pretty little toy that they want to fucking break. You only opened your seams for me, though, yeah?”

 “Yes, Jungkook,” you laboriously get out and it is only then that you feel your boyfriend’s chest press down over yours, his arms falling forward to cage you into the solid plane of Jimin, your own breasts falling over the blonde-haired man’s pectorals as you as you’re melded to lay flush against him. Your hips jerk when Jimin’s cock grazes the clump of nerves deep inside you at Jungkook’s powerful ministrations, your mouth dropping open and your eyes fluttering closed as your breath hitches, “O-oh…Jimin…”

 The blonde-haired man’s cock twitches inside you at the mention of his name, but in the following moments that Jungkook screws you without abandon, he watches your face contort into one of unadulterated pleasure as he whisks his middle finger over your clit that has become engorged with the blood that pulsates needily for him and the male above you. It is a wonder that the space between your bodies is just small enough to allow him this and he touches you like you’re a glass figurine while your boyfriend fucks into you like you’re his puppet.

 “Jungkook, you should see her. She’s so hot. Shit,” Jimin doesn’t know he’s said what he’d been thinking aloud until there’s a dark chuckle that consumes any other sound as it emits itself from between your boyfriend’s lips as he rails you against the elder man and when Jimin drives his hips into you the same way he’d seen your boyfriend do to meet him halfway in reducing you to a mess of limbs between their chests, you give a guttural scream that has the windows around you shaking in the shrillness pitching your voice that has them threatening to crack.

 “Ah, there it is,” Jungkook husks, his hot breath drifting over the crook of your neck as he teases, “I’ve got you screaming for me just as I promised I would,” his tongue laves at the nape of your neck before teeth nip the tender spot as he forges forward into you all while Jimin ogles you from beneath him as your boyfriend utters, “What of my other vow to you, baby? Can you fucking tell which direction is which or have I turned that upside down, too?” You shake your head as he plows into you, your world spinning as he corkscrews himself within you as he taunts, “Can you even remember anything beyond my name anymore, doll?”

 Your walls clench around Jimin, who hisses at the sudden succumbing of his member to your sex as you’re knocked repeatedly into him like the pendulum of a seesaw, one side of your thoughts swinging to the other as you try, “J-Jungkook…Jimin …I-again…n-need-“

 “Mmm,” Jungkook hums,” She’s close. She can’t even fucking talk anymore. Jimin,” black eyes raze his own, “let’s wrap this up, shall we?”

 “What,” Jimin swallows as he watches the way your digits quiver around him as he skillfully skims his finger along the bud of nerves cresting your sex and your chest slides against his in the sweat that slickens you along him, the knot of pleasure deep in your core tightening just as your own hand does over the blonde-haired man’s wrist whilst your other grabs onto the twisted nodule of fabric at the base of his neck in your effort to hold onto something as you whisper his name pleadingly and Jimin is helpless to give you what you ask for at your glassy eyes that so resemble a priceless statuette as he adds a second finger to join the first to stimulate the button decorating your treasure as he asks, “what can I do to your beautiful little doll, Jungkook?”

 “Look at me while I fuck you, babygirl,” Long fingers curl around your jaw as he turns your head to the side so that you’re granted a glorious view of them both, your breath hitching at the way beads of sweat clamping to thick strands of tresses black as a raven’s wing falling perilously over your boyfriend’s eyes that glint dangerously at you, his own lips red as a rose from biting them too much as he snaps his hips ferociously into you, a moan drawn forth from you at the sight of him in combination with the frisk of Jimin’s shorter fingers along your clit as your boyfriend smirks, “As for you, Jimin, you may keep touching her where she needs it. I’m going to help you ruin her needy, pretty cunt and when I do,” you skin pebbles when Jungkook’s hot breath billows over it as he orders, “You’re going to damn her with your cock at the exact moment I decimate her with mine. Understand?”

 “Can she handle that, though? What if she-“ Jimin never finishes because Jungkook’s voice that is draped in certitude covers it.

 She will take it because she was made for me and will do whatever I ask of her, won’t she, babygirl?” As if to prove a point, his cock converges with your sex, your nipples poking into Jimin, who makes a choked sound as you rake your fingernails through his hair as satisfaction strikes you through whilst Jungkook’s fingers constrict just enough so that your attention does not stray from him and look away from him you do not when a familiar calloused thumb joins the two of Jimin’s that had been measuredly swiping themselves over your bud as Jungkook flicks a brow up in expectation, “Come on, baby. Tell Jiminie here that you can take it for daddy.”

 “J-Jungkook,” you implore with a nod, for the only language that you can possibly speak at this point is his name as he rocks into you while his thumb circles languidly at your clit alongside Jimin that are slower and softer in their ministrations, your eyelids drooping amidst the dark bliss the heavies them.

 “Good girl,” Jungkook praises and you preen at that, a dopey smile crossing your features in the vapors of lust that have settled over you while Jungkook’s thumb fastens its movements to reward you as he commands, “Jimin, match your pace with mine, yeah? Playtime is almost over for this one.”

 Jimin doesn’t need to be told twice with his own end on the horizon. With determination that twines itself through his eyes, his two digits that he has attached to you mirror Jungkook as if your boyfriend is the puppeteer of you both. Jungkook swirls his thumb expertly along your button while he marionettes his cock into you with fervor and you clench as he licks his lips to husk, “So beautiful, doll. You look like you’re about to fucking break,” he gives a sharp shunt into you, his balls slapping against your ass as you clench around Jimin, a strangled sound coming from between his lips and Jungkook doesn’t have to be in your cunt to know that you’re just as near as Jimin looks to be with the way that drool pools along the sides of his mouth and, with a grin, Jungkook’s irises string from yours to the blonde-haired man’s as he winds you up around him and when he hastens his fingers over you to have you whimper, that’s when he orders, “Now, Jimin. Screw her with your cock while I fuck her with mine until she cums all over you.”

 “Fuck,” Jimin curses, his hips twisting up into yours at the exact moment that your boyfriend deliciously drills his own dick with into your plushily lined sex as you’re reared against the blonde-haired man and geared like a fucking machine between the cogs of them both that grind into you and when Jimin’s cock throbs tellingly within you while your boyfriend stares down at you with danger flashing in pupils that dilate automatically for you, that’s when you fucking scream.

 The glass rattles as your voices pierces the air around you while you’re battered like a stuffed animal between two rough children and Jungkook’s eyes strike you deep with the cocks that fill you up as they devastatingly pair their thrusts together and when your boyfriend’s fingers intertwine with the one you’d unknowingly been clutching at the couch with, that’s when he grunts, “Come on, baby. Want you to come for daddy. Can you do that for me? Can you show Jimin how beautiful you are when that pretty little cunt finishes all over his cock while you look at me?”

 With the wind that is continually knocked out of you, all you can do is blink up at him in answer as you wrap your fingers around his at the same time the digits of your other hand tighten and tug at Jimin’s scalp only for the blonde-haired man to peer up at Jungkook as you’re dangled over the edge of your precipice once more, your walls fluttering in warning and Jimin, through irregular breaths that are drawn out of him in the rigorousness of his efforts, understands enough to let your boyfriend know, “She’s about to meet her end, J-Jungkook. Sh-She’s squeezing my dick. It feels so good.”

 “Feels like heaven around your cock, doesn’t it? Of course it does,” Jungkook groans as he plunges himself into you while Jimin rolls his hips, your head falling forward so that your temple rests against Jimin’s forehead while your mouth parts as their fingers quicken against your clit as you moan only for him to husk, “Shit, you’re so good for us, baby. I think I’ll let you cum for me in a minute, but first, what do you say when you want something from daddy?”

 Your mind has become wired only to the pleasure that pangs through you with each sweep of their cocks within you, but somehow, you wrack your brain to find the only other words that you know always appease him to pant, “Please, Jungkook…n-need you.”

 “That’s it, baby,” he rasps as your boyfriend runs his finger ruinously between Jimin’s own digits that draw shapes into your button and when Jungkook’s digit suddenly drags itself in hard figure-eight motions along it to the same time that his cock cataclysmically crashes impossibly deep into your ass, that’s when you’re thrashed against Jimin. The elder man perfectly times the buck of his hips into you so that his cock arcs against the clutter of nerves hidden precariously inside you, your irises jerking over the him before they’re threshed to your boyfriend that lodges his cock once, twice and then three more times within you to finally command, “Cum for me, babygirl. Get Jimin all fucking soaked because of what I let him do to you. Give me your fucking orgasm, doll. Give it all to me and let him watch you, yeah?”

 With the sin he spews, you release is swift to unravel you as you come undone, your walls spasming violently over Jimin and he hisses at the way you contract around him as if to pull him in, his own end quick to follow yours as your sex shudders around him amidst your trembling thighs that shake with the rest of your body as you shriek shrilly, your fingers constricting around Jungkook’s own as you hold onto him for dear life.

 When Jimin shoots a hot rope of seed inside you as his member twitches erratically, you hardly have time to moan at the sensation of it before your boyfriend possessively curls an arm around your front to pull you up and against his chest as he sits back on his heels to have Jimin’s own dick slip out of you and the other man throws his head back against the armrest of the couch to stroke himself needily as he hastens to replicate the feel of you around his member while he continues to spill all over himself amidst the pool of your own juices that you’ve splashed all over his dick.

 “You’re mine,” Jungkook’s other hand releases your own to wrap around your throat so that your head falls back against his shoulder as he crazedly crams himself into you again and again, the palm on your abdomen resting where his much larger cock pokes against it before trailing up to grab one breast as you whine while your own orgasm still forcibly strikes you through in unending sparks that electrify you as your boyfriend powers into you from behind before he growls, "Let him fucking see you fall apart for the only cock that you'll ever love, baby. You belong to me. Say it."

 “Y-yours, Jungkook…yours,” you cry out and it is that that has your boyfriend descending into his own end as he gives a guttural groan that you engulf when he urges your head to the side so that you can swallow the sound through the attachment of your mouths and he keeps his sealed against you until you kittenishly slide your tongue against his lower only for him to open his mouth to you and suck your tongue, along with any remaining air that you had, between his lips as he feasts on you until you have no oxygen or saliva left to give him.

 Jimin observes it all, heat stirring in his abdomen as he rubs furiously at his softening length that even now still oozes with the cum both you and he have drenched it with.

 Infatuation influxes the blonde-haired man at the way desire rings itself around the corner of your eyes from you in the cords of pleasure you’d been fibrously instilled with whilst Jungkook holds you close, your brows scrunching together as you bite your lip between your teeth in the aftershocks of your orgasm as your chest heaves over your boyfriend’s, the petalled marks that Jungkook had left over you blushing your flesh in your labored breaths.

 It’s captivating as a current and Jimin is pulled asunder for you all while Jungkook watches the emotions ripple across the blonde-haired man’s face, amusement lifting at your boyfriend’s lips at how easy it had been for you to capture yet another man in the palm of your hand.

 When Jungkook carefully extricates himself from to lay back on the opposite side of the couch with you still in his arms, he chuckles to himself as you silently nestle yourself against his side to snuggle up to him, one arm draping over his chest as you peer adoringly up at him while he makes room for you beside him to entwine his own limb around yours as he croons, “You’re so adorable after you get fucked, baby. Always have to cling to me afterward, huh? You know,” he traces the marks he’d left behind and you sigh with satisfaction as he does, “You’re cute, petal. Have I told you that today?”

 “Mhm,” you purr as you turn on your side to give innocent pecks to his chest while your eyes close as fatigue pulls at them and you affirm, “All the time.”

“I think someone’s a little tired, doll. Do you want me to carry you to the car?” Jungkook asks as he brushes an especially red mark that has purple smearing itself around it and you lean into the touch as a smile lifts at your lips while you stare at the brands he’d left on you.

 “’S fine. I can stay awake a-“ you yawn, your mouth opening only a little as you stretch your arms out before settling back next to your boyfriend –“little while longer.”

 “Yes, you sound awfully convincing, don’t you?” He teases as he sits up and you immediately whine until he laughs and helps you onto his lap as he urges, “I think it might be best to take you home now, baby. You’re about ready to fall asleep. Help me zip myself up, will you?”

 Responsive to him as ever, you tuck his member away before fastening his pants so that he looks presentable should someone see you and when he tucks you inside the blanket you’d hand-stitched and made for him for his birthday, you link your hands around his neck as he cradles you, his irises softening as he peers down at you while you whisper, “Thank you.”

 The double meaning is not lost on him as you have always said those words whenever he’s done just about every single thing for you and he drags his knuckles along your cheek as he offers, “You’re welcome, baby. Anything for you. You know that, don’t you?”

 You giggle as you beam up at him with the toothy smile that still has his heart flipping in his chest to let him know, “I do. Do you know that I would do everything for you?”

 He kisses you along the tip of your charming little nose as he nudges at your cheek, “And how could I ever forget that?”

 He carefully swaddles you in the fluffy fabric until you’re completely covered and all the while, his fingers lovingly caress your sides as he gathers you up and stands with you swathed in the safety of his arms. With his attention captured by your irises that swim with devotion for him, he starts moving forward and with his back to the other man that still is splayed along the couch, he glances back to say, “Ah, and I did not neglect to acknowledge that you’re here, too, Jimin,” he winks, “You did well. I can tell she enjoyed herself. I’ll be in touch. Please make sure you lock up, for I have more important things,” he peers back down at you with affection crinkling his eyes for you, “to attend to.”

 Jimin waits until the two of you vanish until he allows his own lips to lift out of joy born from watching such domesticity manifest itself in the form of two individuals that clearly were in love with each other with the way the emotion had so colored both of you and, with that emotion lifting his own heart, he dresses and locates his phone amidst the piles of clothes (both yours and his) that had long been forgotten.

 Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to walk, Jungkook had decided that foregoing your outfit would be best and so, as he carries you through the halls like the bride you will soon be to him, he smiles as he gazes tenderly at you, your eyes closed as you snooze comfortably in the cushions of his body as he holds you.

 You sleep peacefully in the passenger seat of his Mercedes S-Class Coupe and he glances at you every so often, your skin glowing amidst the emerald greens and ruby reds your skin shines with under the traffic lights as the city passes by in a whir with the constant to it all being your slumbering figure that gives him so much strength and stability in a ceaselessly churning life.  

 You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen even from the first time you’d caught his eye and now, after so much time has passed, you still remain the most priceless jewel to ever gleam for him amidst the dull, dim passersby that pale in comparison to your transfixing bright light.

When he’s pulled into the quiet mansion that stands tall in front of the richly hewn garden you have tended to that borders an impressive watering fountain that cost him thousands, none of it holds a candle to the treasure he takes into his arms as he withdraws you from the car and gently brings you upstairs. He’s careful not to make sound so as not to wake you and when he sets you smoothly on the bed, you do not rouse until the sound of water from the shower in the adjoining master bathroom trickles over your ears.

 You divest yourself of your covering in search of the kind of warmth only your fiancé can grant to you and when you join him in the shower, he welcomes you and washes your hair before his hands trail along your body to clean that, too. You sigh in satisfaction as you thank him once more and with some insisting on your part, you do the same for him even in his concern that you might be too sore to do so. Mindless touches turn into something not so sinless as your hands wander along his chiseled figure that has the power to have you salivating with only one glance.

 He’s hesitant at first because he knows you ache from the strenuousness of the night’s illicit activities, but in your want to reassure him that you are not as fragile as you appear, you fall to your knees before him and take him into your mouth, his groans heating you up as you rut against his leg while you suckle him. You eagerly devour his seed that you’ve come to love so much when he is ready to feed you and once he helps you rise from the ground, he’s sure to give you a kiss that would rival that of the one in the most beloved romance story before he dries you both against your ailing and feeble legs that are weak for him and when he sweeps you off your feet once more, he still kisses you like his hunger will never stop its craving for you.

Even when he lays you down like you’re a glass doll that might shatter if he’s not careful, he still treats you like a piece of art as he looks at you reverently whilst he makes love to you amid your breathless admissions of love for him while he fills your canvas with his seed until he can give you no more of his paint to taint you with.

 And when the breeze blows against your sweat sluiced skin as you lay over him, your chin resting on his sternum while you innocently let the pad of your fingers brush his chest, he asks you, “Did I please you tonight, my love? Did you have fun?”

 “Sweetheart,” you press your mouth to the dip between his collarbones before you breathe, “whenever I am with you, those two things are always a given.”

 His heart dances in his chest at your admission and the fingers that skim your sides splay out to hold you closer as you stare fondly at him.

 “Such a wonderful girl for me. Have I told you how perfect you are for me lately?” He questions, his thumbs drawing shapes into your skin as he goes on, “I don’t know if I have or not. I suppose you’ll have to remind me.”

 "Every morning," you brush your lips against his own in a soft kiss before you pull away, "and every night, my love. Not a day goes by that you don't tell me that or how beautiful you think I am," you smile at him.

 "It's because it's true. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and this, "he holds up the phone to show a text from Jimin you’d both missed in the middle of your lovemaking as he kisses the crest between your brows, "was for you, pretty girl. Whatever you want, I will always give it to you."

 "You're too good to me, Kookie. I really am so lucky to have you," you caress him, your knuckles tracing his jawline as you stare tenderly up at him, "You've always been the best for me and when we marry," you coax him toward you and he heeds your urging fingers along his maw as he meets you halfway to connect your lips to his own, but this kiss is one that he takes control of and you let him, your lips parting for him as his tongue dips low into your mouth to reclaim every contour of you in his touch before he disconnects from you for you to vow, "I enjoyed messing around with Jimin, but once marriage binds us together forever, I will love you and only you until the end of my days. No matter what, I will always yearn for you."

 "God, I love you so much. I can’t wait to marry you and put a ring on your finger so that everyone knows that you’re all mine," he ardently declares as he rests his forehead against yours to breathe in your air as he confesses, "They say that happy marriages look to the future and not the past," he lays back and brings you with him so that you're lain across his chest, his heart beating to the same rhythm as yours as he grins, "but baby, you are what I want my time to be filled with. You're my past, my present and my future and what we have together, my beloved flower, will never wilt."

[mileyjassie]

"Paint me"

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x Reader

Genre: Suggestive & Fluff

Word count: 3.4K

Synopsis: You're enjoying your time painting in your room and he's enjoying seeing you doing it, but, now he wants the attention to himself, so he asks you to paint on his skin.

I just want you to love me like I'm one of your creations.

Paint me.

See me.

Feel me.

Tranquility you felt the moment you sat down, worries always forbidden to show up, in the room where you slept every night there was nothing but soft music not too loud and paints kept in boxes next to your tall stool, a big white canvas with few color strokes being created with the sketches.

You took turns between brushes trying to find what was most essential for each detail, mixing colors that covered the tip of your fingers and consequently soiled the material of the brushes.

You could repeat the usual, right? You asked yourself, not noticing very much the boy's restrained but unquiet presence.

That's when you realized it, you came back to reality in a blink of eye.

So silent, observant and obedient he remained, sitting on the edge of your bed, shoulders slightly raised, his intense gaze lurking over you and your habit of forgetting where you were.

"Are you out of creativity?... Why did you stop?" He asked kind of low key, pressing his hands on the covers when your eyes met.

You shook your head, pretending to need to do some retouching, turning your face back to him.

"Are you bored? I noticed you're anxious... you were looking at me so intensely, I ended up noticing... do you need anything?..."

His eyes fled, embarrassed almost automatically, swallowing hard as his lips parted in a natural impulse of not knowing how to respond.

"I need to ..." he replied quietly, making you slightly intrigued.

You tipped your head, wanting his eyes back.

"What do you need?"

"You ..." he murmured again, giving the look you were waiting to return to you. You closed your hands in weak fists instinctively, to hide the effect of his masked intentions on you.

His voice shook, taking his words back quickly.

"I want you to pay attention on me..." He corrected himself, removing his palms from the covers to shyly join them together. "I'm feeling lonely... Please, give me attention."

You were quiet for a few seconds, completely absorbing the sounds that played one after the other, all calm and relaxing.

The room was cozy because it was recently air-conditioned, the thin curtains that hid the glass doors on the balcony allowed the rose-pink light to pass through, making the room look soft.

"What do you want me to do?"

His extremely dark eyes reflected an immediate gleam, looking hopeful and a little anxious, he got up without much euphoria, going towards another stool, placing it in front of you, next to the canvas on which you were trying to draw.

You both held on the smile as you started a closer conversation for the first time of the day, having his knees touching yours.

Taeyong opened his mouth slightly, inhaling before proceeding.

"I miss you, I confess," he said, leaving his palms flat on his thighs. "Even tho, I still don't want you to stop painting, because I know you like it a lot, as well as I like to see it."

You clutched your brushes in your hands, longing for his words more happily than when you were painting lifeless colors in a scenario not yet invented.

"Put your painting aside. Use me, I want to be your canvas. Paint on me, draw on my skin." Taeyong asked with conviction, a sincere desire that brought warmth to your cheeks.

His hands came off his thighs, spread open in front of you, asking for the initiative.

You looked at his palms, wanting to touch them before they return to his lap, but Taeyong didn't do that, didn't take them away from you.

You slid your gaze to his impenetrable eyes again, seeing the patience he always kept for you.

You held his hand, noticing an almost imperceptible smile on his face, he seemed pleased to be able to be there, to feel the cool, white paint cooling his clean, smooth palm.

"What are you going to draw?..." he murmured amused, bringing an intimate air that until that moment you tried to avoid.

"Let's find out..." You teased without malice, already knowing what forms to use to draw the little waves of the sea that would soon be completed when his other hand been ended.

Songs that played softly at a medium volume previously tranquilized the quiet moment, but then made your proximity a little awkward.

Taeyong looked at your face whenever he let his curious eyes leave his palms, his eyes weighing and making his presence be felt in a way that you could not avoid for a long time.

It was not a weird embarrassment, but it did bring a little shyness, both pretending not to show knowledge about the tension that the suggestively romantic music had created in the room.

Taeyong sometimes brushed his thumb lightly over yours, pulling out a quick smile at one time or another, hiding a timid and small smile when you slid your fingers over his wrist.

You were almost finished painting in his other hand when his knees approached your thighs, one on the inside and the other on the outside, sitting closer.

You looked up at the boy's face, looking him watch you closely.

"Tell me it's not over yet..." he said quietly, waiting for the answer, you nodded, giving him a "yes", watching his eyebrows squeeze over his upset eyes.

Before saying anything, Taeyong had already looked at his hands again, waiting for you to finish painting the blue waves that completed when his palms came together side by side, softening his previously "frustrated" expression.

When you took the brush from his palms, the two of them were placed face up on your knees, his face approached yours, chin lifting slightly when his eyes relaxed.

"My hands are not the only part of my body that you can paint." He smirked, inviting you tantalizingly to touch his face.

You took your fingers to his forehead, brushing the bangs off his face, combing it back, his dark eyebrows showing, his entire face uncovered and clean for any drawing you wished to make.

"What do you want me to draw on you?..."

His eyes closed slowly, leaning a little closer, just enough to feel your breath against his face. He waited like that for an instant, meeting your lips with his, sealing a long kiss.

His mouth detached from yours, his deep voice responding calmly. "Do what you want, I just want you to paint my face with care, just as if I were one of your canvases..."

He smiled gently, pretending to give you one more kiss, leaving the proximity again. You disapproved his attitude, hearing his low laugh echo and his hands turn to run the fingers down the sides of your thighs, murmuring an apology.

"Don't screw up my drawings..." You asked quietly, receiving a positive wave from him, his palms avoiding touching your legs, still letting his long fingers rest on the spot.

You slid your index finger across his lower lip, ignoring the leap from one of his eyebrows to give a short kiss on his chin, looking for a thin brush, reaching for your palette to bathe the tip of the instrument in green paint, tracing a thin, slightly curved line below the scar mark under his eye.

Taeyong noticed the place of choice, looking a little surprised and curious, his eyes twinkling in awe at something he didn't know yet, but that was enough to make him happy.

"Is it going to be a rose?... I know it is." He smiled short, following with his eyes from the paints to the hand going back to his face.

You stated with a nod, a small, proud smile rising on your face at the boy's satisfaction. You dyed that deep and simple space in red, making other small stems on his face, completing them with small flowers of colors that balanced in their own tones on that skin slightly ablush by the light that came into the room, changing tones without haste when passing of minutes.

Taeyong smiled softly, closing his eyes as he lifted his chin a little, helping you by letting the brush go down his jaw, allowing you to continue drawing lost leaves that "fell" from the flowers made on his face.

"You're looking beautiful..." You dared to praise him, gaining confidence with each new trace created in his almost golden-pink skin, as if this new canvas gradually became more and more yours.

The curve of his mouth marked a roguish smile, then he made a sound in the back of his throat, answering your comment with that sly grunt.

You looked at his neck, touching the sides with your fingertips and leaving wet kisses in the clean spaces between the still wet streaks of red, orange and pink petals on his jugular, receiving long purrs, his head tipping back to receive more of the attention he was getting.

"Before continuing..." He murmured slowly, lowering his head to point at his own lips. "Kiss me some more..." He asked accommodated, waiting for you to approach.

You looked at his mouth, leaning in to obey him, clenching your fists so you wouldn't stain him with your dirty fingers, receiving a small disapproving grunt in the middle of the kiss, his tongue meeting yours when his fingers came out of your thighs to grab your fingers carefully, staining the bottom of his cheek and down below the jaw with the trail of your multicolored fingerprints.

You mumbled any meaningless word, burning on your cheeks, deciding to leave your hands on his jaw as it pleased him more, and consequently you too. His gesture was more than tempting, it was significantly attractive.

You murmured weakly again, hoping he would choose when the kiss should end, he murmured back, slowly shaking his head negatively, holding your wrists.

You pulled away, ending the kiss with a little sound of your lips leaving his. Taeyong leaned minimally to go after the contact he had lost, his astonished eyes finding yours.

"Do you want to finish already?..." You asked the distant-minded boy, waiting for his negative nod. "I still want to paint."

"But I don't want to stop doing this..." He held your hands around his neck, the paint already dry and not bothering him to be so careful.

"I will not stop doing what you want." You removed the strands of his hair that fell on his face again, stroking his brow. "Be a little more patient and I won't stop you anymore."

"You'll have to be good for me." He demanded with innocent eyes, enjoying the caresses on his eyebrows.

"I will be. Just as you're being now for me." You ran your fingers down the side of his face, brushing your thumbs over his ears, outlining the pink area.

You were surprised by a quick kiss followed by another, after that he behaved on his tall wooden stool, brushing his knees against your thighs.

"What part of my body do you want to paint this time?..." His eyes went back to being intense, watching you confident enough to raise his eyebrows slightly, biting his lower lip for an instant in a malicious smile.

You laughed with what he did, letting a barely noticeable smile grow on your face, dropping your fingers to the collar of his white, partially unbuttoned shirt.

Taeyong watched you unbutton a few more buttons, looking anxious for every part of his skin that appeared more.

You slid the white fabric down his shoulders, making the folded bar remain a few inches below.

"You look extremely sexy now." You confessed for him to hear your thoughts in a good tone, his hands came together, his shoulders shrunk very little. "I know you like having me drawing flowers all over your face and neck, Taeyong... You must be feeling very handsome right now..." You painted the cold violet ink on his collarbone in order to continue drawing in his body what made you feel good. "Isn't?" You looked up, wanting your answer.

"I-I am." He stammered, losing that seductive look that teased you, just looking like a victim of your comments.

"Why do you like it so much?..." You asked, pretending to be intrigued by a secret he was keeping from you. "Your ears must be warm for a reason..."

"I feel like you want me more." He whispered, swallowing when you kissed the space between his collarbones. "I feel more attractive..."

"You're right."

He looked at you quickly, wanting to hear some confession he didn't expect.

"I didn't think you could be more beautiful than you already are" You made a brief path of violets, like a crown of petals, standing up when you were done "But look at you" You pulled the air between your teeth, amazed by the sight you were having.

You went to your desk, looking for a camera that rested there next to other materials, returning and finding his embarrassed eyes, taking a picture of the work of art that you had sat in front of you.

"Can I keep this with me?" You asked in a sly tone, approaching when he took a long time to answer, but ended up nodding positively. "You're lovely. " You plunged your fingers through his hair, combing his bangs back, pulling a few strands lightly to get a pleasant expression on his face in return. "Can I take some more? Will you let me?..." You mumbled close to his ear, earning an obedient nod and a low growl, capturing more than satisfied pictures of his face, neck and collarbone, taking the opportunity to take pictures of the entire boy, since the drawings were not what completely enchanted you.

You lifted his chin, grabbing a few more bunch of hair, softening his scalp while giving him one more lazy, sticky kiss.

"Let's go to the floor." You whispered against his lips, pulling away.

Taeyong watched you walk away from him, his pupils running from you to the floor, maybe a little nervous, maybe a little confused, you could never really know what he was feeling.

He stood up, approaching without haste.

"I thought you still wanted to paint..."

You approached after hearing precipitated deductions from him, pulling him without force by the clothes, kissing the naked part of his chest.

"Sit down, my love, we're not stopping." You held his shoulders, making him bend down to his knees, raising your eyebrows when you found his concentrated expression, a blush appearing on his face. "Are you enjoying this?" You tipped your head, grabbing him by the hair.

"What are you going to do?..." He ignored your question in a low tone after a brief gasp, causing you to smile at his submissive position.

You raised the camera, also ignoring his question. "Do a shell with your hands." You asked, just seeing his eyebrows squeezing. "Ask me for something, beg for something..." Taeyong didn't answer, but did exactly what you asked, creating an innocent face, a clear provocation of a wolf dressed in lambskin.

You captured the photo just the way you wanted of the drawing that was lasting, offering him a deal. "I'm going to sit on your hips, Taeyong... I'm going to take that golden ink I have and make laurels on your shoulders..." You walked over to the painting next to you, taking the small container with the golden liquid, returning to the boy on his knees. "If you groan while I rub myself against you, you'll have to let me take as many pictures of your body as I want. The way I want to."

His lips left unanswered, him searching in your face for whatever was your intentions with this game.

"If I don't... groan..." He moved his fingers up the sides of your legs, placing his hands on the backs of your thighs, bringing you close to him. "What will you give me?"

You stroked his ear, analyzing each earring he wore.

"What do you want, Taeyong?..."

His long fingers found your wrists, taking you down, making you sit on his lap.

"Start." He said at last, dragging his nose into your neck, taking the camera out of your hand.

You slid your fingers down his shoulder, painting the skin a little after the curve of his neck, feeling his already heavy breath touch against your skin.

His hands landed on your waist, waiting for any movement, letting his head lie against you when he realized you weren't going to move, letting out a disapproving grunt. "Don't be unfair to me." He caught his breath instantly, feeling your closeness when your hips rubbed slowly against his.

It was good, yes, it was all very good.

His skin was exposed, the drawings painted gently on his face, neck and collarbone. The golden leaves making the way to his shoulder shine. The colors of the sunset toning his figure. The marks of your colored fingers staining his jaw. The good feeling that was being created between the intimate contact over the clothes.

His sigh woke you up.

When you realized, you had stopped painting him and were almost hugging the man who was holding you tightly in you rhythmic hips.

You removed his face hidden from your chest, watching his teeth tighten on his lower lip, his eyes glued to yours, his lower lip freeing itself from his teeth and turning red automatically, making a little pout because of the pressing of your hips, provocation that almost convinced you to give on his pout a kiss if you didn’t know he had done it out of pleasure.

His sighs and little gasps became louder and more daring, and he knew he was catching up with you, it was on purpose, and you couldn't even penalize him for it. "Honey, have you given up yet?..." He smiled rogue, tilting his head to the side, showing his shoulder that was still clean.

You groaned, stopping little by little, almost making him moan over it. "As you wish." You whispered, holding his scruff to keep his head in place, using the other hand to finish the golden laurels, even though that hand was a little more difficult to use.

"You don't have to stop..." he whispered.

"I didn't stop." You whispered back, continuing the long and slow movements.

You received pecks on your collarbone, going up to your jaw, one of his hands coming out of your hips to touch the wrist of your hand in his neck, making you feel the cold wetness of his hand melting in your wrist, seeing it blue.

Before you could said anything, Taeyong took your hand, leading it to the golden paint container on the floor and, then taking it to his breastplate, messing from under his collarbones to the middle of his chest with your gold fingers.

You blushed hard as you watched him do it, getting his hands wet on your cheeks, his palms marking you in blue, pulling your face up to his, sliding his tongue across your lips, trying to start another kiss as he rubbed against you.

You were in silent, feeling his moist fingers gently squeeze your face in order to caress you, his bold kiss making you both a little more euphoric. You stopped moving, hoping to see how far he would go alone, yielding to his need for closeness and leaving only a button stuck to his shirt, lying against his body until his back was on the floor.

Your breaths met excessively until the kiss ended, so you rested your palms on the floor, pulling the skin of his neck between your lips, listening to him hiss with the hickey.

"You ruined my drawing..." You lamented in his ear, giving him another hickey below his ear.

"It was never the intention, my love..." He murmured softly, stopping moving his hips because of yours. You placed your hands on his belly, slightly raising the piece of cloth that was still connected by a single button, moving away from his neck to continue the movements.

His head fell back, his hair dancing and changing direction as he smiled with his lip stuck between his teeth, eyes closed and eyebrows serene.

You watched his expressions in silence, moving your clean hand from his stomach to his chest, reaching his neck, wrapping your warm fingers around his throat without force. Taeyong narrowed his eyes with furrowed eyebrows, then squeezed them tightly, letting out a spontaneous groan when the stimulation down the hips became faster and stronger.

Taeyong gasped in surprise, looking for you with an almost plaintive look.

"Don't look at me like that..." You asked with pity, taking your hand from his neck, having it immediately held by him, him trying to keep it in place.

"Don't do this to me..." He murmured hoarsely, propping himself up on his elbows, asking for a kiss you didn't deny giving him.

"You need to give me what you promised, my love." You said, getting up from his lap, taking a few steps back to watch him better. "Stay like that, will you?" You took the camera back, seeing him embarrassed. "You're not doing anything more than posing for me... You know that, right?"

Taeyong stated with a nod, partly sheepish, partly intimidating, his eyes changing his mood in a snap of fingers. He raised his knee, leaning on one arm, resting his palm between his thighs, hiding the volume in his pants with his forearm.

You moved halfway between his knees, spreading his legs apart. "Get your arm out of there." Taeyong raised an eyebrow, but obeyed, propping himself up on his elbows again, tilting his head to the side.

"Just hurry up with this..." He said teasingly, softening his expression when he brushed his foot on your ankle. "We have a lot more to do."

[hobidreams]

october 1865.

you never thought you would smile like this again, but here you are. and here he is, by your side.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: fluffy fluff words: 5k 😳 contains: historical au, chuseok date!, eunuch kim!, so much cuteness, guest appearances hehe

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 13. start from the beginning?

“How do I look, mom?”

Standing before the mirror, you nervously smooth the delicate sash of the pink hanbok for the hundredth time, careful not to lean down too much and dislocate the floral ornament carefully pinned in your hair. There have been doves fluttering in your stomach the entire afternoon; you don’t know if you tied this correctly or if your hair is braided right, and you can’t ask any of your nearby neighbours for fear of discovery that your plans are different than theirs tonight. Mother would know exactly what to do and what to say to make you feel at ease. But want you want most is for her to see you all grown up like this. Finally able to properly wear the outfit you coveted for so long, and hold your head high in it too. You think she’d be proud.

You manage a smile as you run your fingertips along the edge of the ornament, a gift from mother on your twelfth birthday. It’s almost been a year since her passing, and you still miss her more than anything. But you also know now that the best way to honor her is to be happy, and to carry on her work, her legacy. So far, you’ve begrudgingly won a few scraps of respect from the male physicians, and it’s a start.

“I hope you’re doing well up there,” you say, letting your gaze drift out the window to the beaming Chuseok moon, hoping the wind might take your words and your love all the way to her.

“Hey. Are you ready?”

You are grateful that the door is closed because the way you snap to attention is frankly embarrassing.

"Yes, just a moment, seja-jeonha!" you say in a nervous half-whisper, half-exclamation as you allow yourself one last glimpse at the mirror. This is going to be fine. You're going to be relaxed and have a good time, even if you are sneaking out of the palace with arguably the second most important person in the country.

Putting on a smile that hopefully looks effortless, you pull open the door and practically gasp out loud at the sight of him.

It's perhaps the first time you've seen the prince out of the traditional royal robes. It's an excellent disguise -- the clothes of a young yangban lord, done in a deep-dyed scarlet that contrasts his usual navy. A cinched belt fastens the coat deftly, juxtaposed against the dragging, silky sleeves beside it, making him seem somehow more elegant in the way he holds himself. Completing the look is the gat that sits atop his head, its wide-brim tilted low so it covers enough of his face that he wouldn't be recognized, at least not to anyone who spared him a passing glance (not that they would know his face to begin with). The gat strap hangs low in front of his chest, the intricate beading betraying just how truly expensive this hat is. He is, in short, unfairly, unfathomably handsome.

You are forever grateful that you chose to dress up; if nothing else, at least you will look suitable standing next to him, at least for a night.

If Yoongi thinks anything of your outfit, he covers it with a slight cough, his cheeks faintly reddened from the cold. “Good. Come on. We have to be quick.”

You nod, following him out into the night air.

With swift steps and strategic maneuvering, it doesn't take you long to reach one side of the imposing wall that separates palace from town. There, you find a familiar face waiting for you.

"Good evening," Eunuch Kim says with a bow. He’s wearing a different, muted set of green robes and donned a gat as well. “As you instructed, the select guards have been informed to keep quiet, and all else has been taken care of. Let us go."

He likely insisted on coming, as one of the caveats for your illicit excursion. You don't mind, since this isn't the first time he's had to do such a thing, always so worried about his rebellious, stubborn charge. You watch as he lets Yoongi go past first, then gestures for you.

“You look lovely tonight, uinyeo-nim,” Eunuch Kim says, and you share a small, furtive smile that feels like he’s cheering you on. Then you step past the official gates, feeling so acutely the pattering of your pulse because this is truly happening.

For the first handful of minutes, you remain both terrified and anticipatory that you'll be snatched back by the royal guard and accused of kidnapping the prince or something equally ridiculous as being on an actual outing with him. Beside you, Yoongi doesn't seem to have these worries as he walks by your side (though still a respectful, proper distance apart), letting his arms slightly swing while he kicks up dust with his slippers.

Just as you're wondering if you're being an awful companion and not making conversation, he says, "haven't been outside the palace in ages."

“Me too. It's… a little strange, having all this freedom to roam and do what I want. Even if it’s just for a night.”

“I'll say.” Yoongi makes an exasperated noise. “There are too many rules in that place. Can't do anything without being watched.” He gives a minor tilt of his head towards your chaperone, though it's more a tease rather than actually spiteful. Eunuch Kim, for his own sake, pretends not to see or hear the jab.

You smile. “It's for your safety, seja-jeonha.”

“So they say. But they'll regret it when I die of boredom first.”

He rolls his eyes and you laugh, and the palpitations in your stomach ease just like that.

As you draw ever closer to the town, the harmony of string and wind instruments crescendo and build with the jubilant chatter of the townspeople. It's getting to you in the best of ways; you're becoming so elated at the prospect of the festivities that you start to speed up, soon practically rushing towards the town square at a pace that forces Yoongi and Eunuch Kim to run to follow.

"…Wow!"

At the base of the square, your entire face brightens with the wondrous sight unfolding before you. There are people everywhere. Some down celebratory alcohol, others munch on sweet treats, and more still singing along to the traditional folk tunes with robust vibrato, regardless of whether they’re on key or not. You can’t find a single frown amidst all this mirth, and that’s just the way you like it. It’s overwhelming: the sights, the sounds, and the mouthwatering smell of something delicious and fried.

Yoongi eventually jogs up to you, forced to inhale a few quick breaths to refill his lungs. “Are you that hungry?” He asks, the corner of his lips curling up.

Oh god, you just made the prince run.

"No...! Not at all! I’m deeply sorry, seja-jeonha. I got too excited, didn’t I?”

“Not at all. Shall we get something to eat first then?”

You avert your eyes, though you really haven’t had dinner tonight. “No, please. Let us do what you would like.”

Yoongi grins as if it is of no consequence. “What I want? Well, then, I want to go this way.”

As is his habit, he begins to walk in the direction he chooses without notice, though this time he has to weave through the people that crowd the area. His disguise is working well; he is largely ignored as he passes, leading your little group all the way to an open alleyway where stalls line each side, lit up with lamps and vividly colored banners.

A twinge of sadness squeezes your heart as you look at the spread. You faintly remember a decade ago that there used to be a full row of assorted delicacies and sweets for purchase; now it’s mostly merchants with tables of books and hairpins, food becoming too scarce for most to sell with the grain shortage, even if they need the funds. Still, everyone seems to be doing their best with what they’ve got.

Sudden shouts ring out right beside you, nearly blowing your ears out with how loud they are.

“Jeon! Freshly fried shrimp and fish jeon for sale!”

“Hot, hot, hot nokdujeon over here!”

“Gaah!” you exclaim, eyes wide. You wouldn’t be surprised if the monks up the mountain heard about this jeon! When you turn to see who the hell is making all this commotion, you’re met with the scowling faces of two men, glaring furiously at each other in-between tending to their sizzling pans in adjacent stalls. The bearded one looks about seconds away from giving the other younger man a good smack with the fishing rod leaning on the wall behind him.

Said younger man gives a snicker. “No wonder my sales are beating yours. Why would anyone want your shrimp when they could have my delicious mung beans?”

“Say that again, if you dare.”

“Why would anyone want your gross shrimp when—”

“Yah, you can take your beans and shove them right up your nasty sokgot—”

“Excuse me,” Yoongi cuts in between them with a smirk. “I’ll take two orders of each. Preferably not ones shoved anywhere.” He drops coins on both counters, more than enough to cover the food.

“Ahem.” They levy two very similar glares at each other before beginning to package the orders for consumption, switching to polite honorifics in the process. “Yes, sir!”

“Right away, sir!”

They work deftly, obviously very practiced in the art. Neither of them drop so much as a crumb, even though they seem to be racing.

"My lord, here is your order," Fish Jeon says, only to be roughly shoved aside by Mung Bean in a rush to hand over the goods first.

"Please enjoy, sir!"

Yoongi takes the round and crispy nokdujeon, all wrapped in parchment paper. His amused chuckling makes you feel a little warmer, a bit fonder than you should. Especially when he then promptly passes the package to you.

"Seja--" You cut yourself off before you make the mistake. "Um. My lord, this is for me?" You ask, even though you're practically drooling at the scent.

"Did I give it to someone else? Eat."

He turns, hands off one of the assorted jeon plates to Eunuch Kim behind him, who accepts gratefully with a bow.

You, and your stomach, don’t need to be told twice. After blowing on the golden batter, you take a generous bite, accidentally smearing a bit of it on your cheek in the process but god, it tastes incredible. Mung Bean may be loud, but he clearly doesn’t tell lies. You have to hold yourself back from inhaling the pancake whole, instead savoring each nibble on your tongue.

“Come on. Keep going before the crowd grows,” Yoongi says, urging you forward with a jerk of his chin before biting into his own pancake. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile this much before, and it’s with slight regret that you tear your eyes away to look where you’re going.

From behind you as you start to walk, you hear, "Jungkook, you brat, shouldn't you be more respectful to your elders?!"

"Whatever, hyungnim. Nokdujeon! Better-than-his-fish nokdujeon!"

There is a very distinctive thwap as you move into the merchant area.

The first booth you come to belongs to a woman that you recognize, selling the latest romance novel by a rising author, Taehyun. She recognizes you too, waving you over with enthusiasm. “Oh, hello! We just received this last week. A tale of forbidden love between a yangban lady and a fisherman! Full of tension and…” she lowers her voice conspiratorially, “more than a few kisses!”

“Do people actually read things like this?” Yoongi mutters, staring at the covers.

“Huh? No! Well, hah, I certainly don’t!” You hope your face looks plausibly innocent. “But thank you,” you turn to say to the woman before hurriedly walking on before she can expose your ruse. The prince doesn’t need to know about the precious books you keep in a secret stash in your room. A lady can’t only study all day, right?

(You make a mental note to come back to town and pick up a copy later.)

Down the row you go, reluctantly finishing off the pancake on the way. Yoongi hands you the entire second plate of jeon not long after. “I don’t want it,” he says, watching you brighten at the prospect of more food. He does end up stealing a piece of shrimp from within your grasp later, throwing it casually into his mouth before you can even react.

The next display to really catch your attention is one laden with delicately handcrafted ornaments, pins, bracelets, and perfumes. “Wow!” You gush, leaning over the table as you try to calculate how much money you brought with you because you want it all, even though you rarely have the occasion to dress up. Still, you want at least something as a keepsake, to hold your memories of this precious day. Yoongi stops and waits for you; you forget it should be the other way around.

“Oh my, Eun-a-ssi? Is that you?”

What? You look up, breath hitched.

“Oh, my apologies.” The woman behind the booth is elderly, her hair grey, eyes wrinkling warmly as she smiles. “My mistake. My eyesight isn’t what it was. You… look a lot like a woman I know. I haven’t seen her in a long time now.”

“Eun-a… Eun-a was my mother,” you murmur. “She passed away last year.”

The woman’s eyes widen as she clutches her hands to her chest. “She did? Oh… Oh no… I’m so sorry, child. Then you must be—” She thinks for a moment, then says your name. You nod, and a small smile slips back on her lips, though now tinged with sadness. You know the feeling. “My name is Hong Sook-ja. I used to live right here in town with Eun-a-ssi, until all those years ago when she moved into the palace and I moved to the countryside. Your mother used to bring you into town for Chuseok and we got to know each other then. These days, I just come back every once in a while to see my granddaughter and great-grandson, so I must have missed the news.”

“It’s alright, Sook-ja-ssi. Mom lived well,” you say, ignoring the twinge in your chest. Any glimpse into mother’s life before she had you fills you with a certain homesickness, alongside the joy. “She was happy. And I’m sure she’d be happy to know that you are living well too.”

“Good. Good. She deserved happiness.” Sook-ja sighs, letting the information sink in. Only after one last kind smile does she finally seem to notice Yoongi standing beside you, trying his best not to intrude. “Now, is this handsome lord your companion? Perhaps your betrothed?”

“N-No!” You immediately cry, not wanting Yoongi to misunderstand, to think that his rank could be dragged so low as to match yours. Sook-ja should know that these class lines, even between yangban and cheonmin, are not so easily crossed. But the mischief in her gaze seems to suggest she doesn’t care much about that. “No, we’re just out. Together.”

“Yes. Out. Together,” Yoongi echoes, just as the door behind Sook-ja starts to open with a noisy creak.

A young woman dressed in a pretty hanbok steps out of the house with a smile. “Grandma, are you interrogating the customers again… Oh, hey! Kim-nim!”

All three of you turn your heads to look at Eunuch Kim, who couldn’t look more surprised at the woman’s appearance if Yoongi started growing a tail. He flusters, stepping back as if that could protect him. “Ahh, Chun-ja-ssi…! You’re, um, here! And you look, wow—” He almost drops the last piece of jeon altogether. “I was not expecting you to be here— I mean, not that I was thinking of you being elsewhere— Uh, not that I think about you that often—”

“This is my granddaughter,” Sook-ja explains, saving the poor man. “Chun-ja. She and her son, Han-jae, are the best parts of my life. She’s so clever, she can even read and write, you know!”

Chun-ja flushes under the praise. “My grandmother likes to exaggerate. But it’s very nice to meet you both,” she says, bowing in greeting as Sook-ja excuses herself, exiting through the same door.

Yoongi is once again smirking. “So, how do you know Kim-nim?”

“Mm, it was about two years ago? I was helping one of the merchants bring grain into the palace. Kim-nim saw me struggling with a particularly heavy pot, and so he helped me carry it. Since then, we chat for a bit every time he’s in town on an errand, and exchange the occasional letter! When he remembers to write me back, that is. Though his letters are often so lovely that I don’t mind the wait.” Chun-ja offers Eunuch Kim a grin that he can’t quite return with ease.

Yoongi has to work hard to keep his face relatively straight as he says, “hmm. So that is why he’s always disappearing from the palace with those weak excuses? And using all that ink? He always said it was for something important.”

“Seja— My lord! Please!” Spare me, Eunuch Kim’s wilted expression pleads. You have to hide your amusement behind a hand, lest you burst out with inappropriate laughter.

Once again, Sook-ja comes to the rescue as she shuffles out of the house, holding two familiar objects that make your eyes light up. “You’re both in luck. I knew we had a few extra this year, even after that rascal great-grandson of mine ruined a few with his roughhousing. He’d still be causing trouble if he weren’t off with his friends right now.” Sook-ja sighs. “I wish my grandson were still around to scold him. But anyway, I’d be happy if you’d take them!”

“Wish lanterns!” You exclaim, taking the lightly orange cloth contraption with glee. “Oh, I haven’t seen these up close in years.” The palace celebrations don’t usually include them, leaving you to try and catch the sight of the tiny, almost imperceptible lights floating into the sky from so far away. You’ve always loved the thought of the lamps surging towards that boundless sky, endlessly drifting, free to follow the wind.

“Do you know how to start it?” Chun-ja asks. You shake your head. “Let me show you.”

As Chun-ja explains the mechanisms behind the lantern to you, Yoongi reaches for his coin pouch. “We must give you something in exchange.” Yoongi produces several mun coins that are at least five times the lanterns’ actual worth, and tries to give them to her.

Sook-ja pushes his hand away. “No, no, it’s a present!”

“I insist.” Yoongi tries again, only to be rejected, again. He wonders if she would be so obstinate if she knew who he really was. (Probably yes.) “Alright… What if I take another item from the table to make it a fair trade?”

“Stubborn, aren’t you?” Sook-ja bursts into laughter, her belly shaking beneath her skirt. “Fine. Take your pick!”

Yoongi barely scans the accessories; he snatches up the bracelet you were looking at before and tucks it into his jeogori with a secret smile. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Sook-ja says warmly, before her smile dips down conspiratorially. “It’ll look good on her. Anyway, have fun! Enjoy the night.”

“I’m sure we will.” Yoongi shifts his attention to you. “All done? Then let’s keep going.”

“Yes, my lord,” you say, happily clutching the lanterns. “Thank you so much, Sook-ja-ssi. Chun-ja-ssi.”

Chun-ja beams. “Our pleasure. I hope we see each other in town again soon. And Kim-nim, don’t forget your letters!”

“Yes, of course, I will. I mean, I won’t. Forget, that is. Uh, I’ll write. G-Goodbye.” Eunuch Kim bows twice in quick succession before hurrying after you two, trying his best not to look back for one last glimpse of what he’s left behind.

You continue your wandering through the rest of the festival, marveling at the sheer strength of the wrestlers and then the elegance of the dancers. Absently, you wish this atmosphere could stay in place forever, and that everything else could just vanish into the smoke and ash of the burning campfires, but you know too well that life is a balance. And right now, with the prince’s silky sleeve pressed almost right against yours as you walk past a chorus of singers, the scales have temporarily tipped in your favor.

Eventually, all your wandering takes you to almost the outskirts of town, to an area you visited before with your mother. It takes some squinting but you eventually recognize the obscure path among the bushes, and immediately gesture towards it. The prince has shown you so much tonight; you want to return the favor, especially since his steps are beginning to slow. “This way! Please come with me.”

“Are you sure this is safe?” Eunuch Kim calls. “We cannot let anything happen to our lord!”

You start down the road. “Completely!”

It’s been so long since you last took these steps, but it all comes back to you effortlessly as you take the lead. It takes a few minutes, just a few, to reach the clearing you seek. And it is exactly as you remember it — the nature growing with a wild, greedy virility, the oddly shaped rocks studded in the dirt, and the reflecting pond, its water rippling from the drag of the autumn wind across its surface. There is no one here, which is exactly how you expected it to be.

“Here it is, seja-jeonha.”

“It’s quiet,” he marvels, and steps further in. He stops at the edge of the pond, staring not down but out, at the reflection of the full moon in its depths.

“I thought that you could use a change of environment. You look a little tired.” At this point, you know him well enough to tell that the neutrality of his expression shows subtle signs of weariness.

“The noise. It can be overwhelming at times. I’m not used to so much of it, usually. But I like the songs.”

You nod. “I understand perfectly! That’s why mom took me here in the first place. It used to be her secret spot when she was growing up.”

His arms shift, sleeves brushing the sides of his jacket. “She was a kind woman.”

“Very much so.”

You feel the breeze swiftly pick up, weaving through the strands of hair that have come loose from your up-do. The curling leaves around you rustle with welcome relief, bathing in the atmosphere, the rare tranquility of such a beautiful evening.

“Shall we float the lanterns?” You suggest after a spell.

“Sure.” Yoongi indicates for Eunuch Kim to bring the lanterns over. “Matches?”

Eunuch Kim fumbles in his robes for a few seconds before he realizes with a start that they’re just not there. “My apologies!” He bows. “I must have left the matches back at the booth!”

Yoongi sighs. “Too distracted by Chun-ja-ssi, hm?” Eunuch Kim flushes. “Go get them then.”

“But to leave you alone—”

“I’m not alone.”

Eunuch Kim looks between the prince and you a few times in rapid succession, his thoughts evidently as wavering as his eyes. He finally lands back on the prince.

“…Understood. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

You both watch him go, the quick pace of his steps no doubt brought on by anticipation.

“I can’t believe he’s been involved with a woman without any of us knowing,” Yoongi says, his tone betraying his real fondness.

“It’s sweet.” You smile, wondering if Eunuch Kim will ever manage to stop the stuttering long enough to actually tell Chun-ja how much he appears to like her. He is a mature man with most aspects, but apparently you’ve happened upon his one sole weakness. “But… He’ll probably be gone for a while. We won’t be able to light the lanterns.”

“I thought as much when I told him to go.”

“Well, it’s nice to take a break.” You don’t mention that you’d probably go anywhere and do anything, even if it’s just sitting around waiting, if it was with him. Instead, you look down at the pond, the water stilling enough for there to be a slightly blurry reflection of yourself awaiting below. “Hm. The water’s gotten a bit murkier these years. It used to be clear enough to see perfectly in. But it’s not so bad! Come look!”

Yoongi does. His pale face, all dark eyes and that rough, obvious scar, appears beside yours.

You fully intended on saying something else but that thought falls clear out of your mind when you realize just how undone your hair has become in all the bustle of the celebrations. I look like a mess, you think in a panic, hurriedly feeling for the strands to tuck them back. You’ve only managed to get one side fixed when a rock comes flying out of nowhere, plunging into the water with a noisy thunk! It disturbs both your reflections and wrecks the temporary mirror as cold droplets splash back.

“Hey!” You cry, leaping back from the pond to Yoongi’s grin. “What was that for?”

He has the audacity to look innocent. “Nothing. Haven’t you ever skipped rocks?”

“That was more a throw than a skip,” you grumble, checking your skirt as you hope it didn’t take too much damage. Thankfully, only a few drops actually landed on the precious fabric. “But yes, I love skipping rocks. Properly.”

“Here then.” You open your palm at Yoongi’s behest and he drops a stone into it. “Show me how to do it properly.”

You accept the challenge and plant one foot behind you, staring down a point in the middle of the pond, angling your arm as you position the stone in your hand. You most definitely look the part of an expert as you let the thing go. It shoots towards the water at a rapid speed, whooshing right through the air like a tiny bullet as it hits the surface at the angle and then proceeds to instantly sink to the bottom like, well, a rock.

Yoongi’s raucous laugh is no less than a roar, his entire body wracked with the exertion as he practically doubles over. He only gets louder when he sees the embarrassment on your face, the absolute mortification.

“I never said I was good at it…” You mutter, deciding to try a second time. This rock plummets right down to the watery floor too, refusing to save you even a little bit of face.

Yoongi’s settled into an infuriatingly smug look. “So, you can’t actually skip a stone. But you still love doing it?”

“That’s right.”

“Why?” He effortlessly makes a single skip before his pebble capsizes.

“I have a theory.” His curiosity piques at that; a turn of his head. “That it’s not up to us if the rock skips or not. Even if we have all the technique in the world,” you pick up another stone, “if the wind just happens to blow a bit harder, or if a fish from beneath disturbs the rhythm, or even if the tides themselves decide to surge up… It’ll fail. Or only skip the once. But—” You clutch the rock tightly in your hand and feel the weight, the cold, steady shape. “But if we wish hard enough. If we just keep trying every time we have the opportunity again and again…” This time, your rock is truly flying as it smacks the rippling water and skips a miraculous four times before finally dropping into the deep. “The universe might just make it happen.”

“…Or you need more practice.”

You shrug. “I’d rather believe that there are some things in the world simply out of our control. But that we can still hope for those things to shift, to change for the better if we never give up.”

Yoongi falls silent, staring at the ground through his downcast, delicate eyelashes. Maybe you said too much, you think. You didn’t mean to ramble. It’s just something you’ve thought about often. For these past months, it’s been the only thing keeping you going on the hardest, loneliest days. But you’ve made it. You’re still here. And by some miracle, he’s right here with you.

(You think maybe this is happiness.)

“I like that.” His eyes flick up to meet yours with an intensity that says he’s listening. He’s contemplating your thoughts and taking you seriously. He rubs the back of his neck, scratching at an invisible mark. “It’s a good theory. I… I understand it.”

There’s a weight to those words that you feel in the pit of your heart. A pull that draws you to him like the reckless tides towards his moon – a gravitational longing to know what truth vibrates beneath. You wonder if he feels it too.

“Seja-jeonha, I’ve returned!”

Eunuch Kim comes rushing back into the clearing, wielding the packet of matches. You both turn to him, letting the moment be whisked away with the wind whipping past the emerald robes, though you keep it safe in your memories. The eunuch has brought ink and brushes too, for you to write your wishes on the fabric itself. Increases the chance of their coming true, or so the legend goes.

After a few swishes of the brush, it doesn’t take long to light the fires. Your darkly inked characters are lit up by the flame, flickering staunchly beneath the opening as you each clutch a lantern in your hands and look at each other.

“What are you wishing for?” Yoongi asks.

“For more jeon,” is your reply, followed by an easy laugh that he echoes.

Then you let the lantern go as he does — two firebirds soaring side by side into the twinkling night.

a/n: *cue Can You Feel the Love Tonight playing softly in the background even though it hasn’t been invented yet*. hope you’re all enjoying sweet Yoon 🥺

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

I really liked reading your fics of Lotor watching movies! Do you think Lotor would like watching Atlantis or lilo and stitch? And who would he watch them with? (Hopefully either Allura or Pidge)

Movie Time with TSL Lotor – Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001)

It was a cold and rainy morning on the planet of Olkarion, with an emaciated Galran prince swaddled in blankets on the floor of the paladin’s lounge room. Lotor still wore his night robe and Earth-fashion pajamas, his white hair disheveled from sleep. He yawned. His face pulled tight with his harvesting scars, and his long fangs gleamed in the lamplight. He tiredly scratched at his cheek. “Why did you wake me so early, little one?”

Across the room, a pajama-clad Pidge sat cross-legged, plugging in a few cables. “Because. It’s Saturday.”

The bleary-eyed man blinked. “I know not what a Saturday is.”

She looked up, readjusting her glasses. “It’s the day where people get up to eat cereal and binge-watch cartoons. Like a tradition. My brother and I used to do this all the time. And sometimes my dad too, but he slept in a lot.” Her face twisted in a pout. “And everyone here sleeps in for, like, ever.”

“Even the princess?”

“Even the princess.”

Lotor’s gaze slid to the container of milk, courtesy of Kaltenecker, and then to the sacred box of—he narrowed his gaze curiously—frosted cheerios. Pidge had procured two bowls and two little spoons. He raised his nose and sniffed delicately. The box smelled of sweetness and grains, and saliva swarmed through his mouth in anticipation of food. Beneath the blankets, he scratched at his stomach. Wakefulness began to seep through him at the thought of eating and watching more animated drawings from Earth. “You wish to share in this…tradition with me, then?”

“You were sleeping out here on the couch,” Pidge deadpanned, giving him a look, “so you were gonna share in it no matter what.” A small emotion came over her. She glanced down, returning to connecting the cables. “And my brother’s still off-planet, so you’ll have to do.”

He huffed in amusement. “I am a companion of convenience, then. A replacement brother.”

“Yeah, something like that.” She began to scoot away from the cables, grabbing for her cereal bowl.

Lotor quirked a brow. His blanket shifted around him as he picked up the remaining bowl, mimicking her actions. “What is the topic of today’s entertainment adventure?” He watched curiously as she dumped cereal into her bowl and filled it with milk. And then he followed in kind, hesitantly dipping his spoon into the concoction and biting down.

His slit pupils dilated at the sweet taste.

His fangs crunched down loudly.

Pidge munched more quietly, but her lips stretched as she moved to turn on the movie. “It’s called Atlantis: The Lost Empire.”

Lotor’s elfin ears flicked in interest. “Lost empire?” he repeated curiously, voice muffled by cereal.

As the movie began to play, Pidge’s face brightened. “The whole movie involves an old human legend, about this advanced civilization that sunk under the sea in a sudden cataclysm.”

“Fascinating.” His explorer’s heart lifted in excitement, the sleeping disappearing fully from his eyes. In that moment, it did not matter to him that he was 10,000 years old or watching something that was most assuredly meant for children and families. “Does the legend have any form of validity?”

“Well, being mentioned by Plato, who was a real philosopher—” she pointed to the screen to the opening quote—“has made people search all over for it. But so far, nothing’s proven because there’s a lot of sunken cities on Earth.” She paused. “The movie definitely takes some creative license with ancient human tech, too. Like, ancient humans did not fly in fish ships.”

“I see.” Lotor crunched down happily on the cereal, eyes wide. The screen brightened with the cartoon colors of human animation. Strange, fish-like planes streaked through a blue sky in a panic. Lotor instinctively leaned along with the framing of the movie, as if he were on the ships as well. “Calamity is rather fun to indulge in when it’s not real.”

“I know, right?” Pidge grabbed onto her blanket, wrapping it around her.

And the two remained sitting on the floor of the great lounge, increasingly lost in the tale of Atlantis.

***

It was at some point after Milo Thatch’s introduction that Lotor hesitantly spoke up, his voice catching oddly. “This animation.” He tried again. “I thought you said once that humans were unaware of the planet Altea.”

Pidge pushed up her glasses, still cradling her cereal bowl in her lap. “Yep. Didn’t know about it at all.”

Lotor puzzled at the screen. He hummed, setting his cereal bowl down on his lap. “This Atlantis bears significant similarities to Altean technology and to its people, down to being significantly advanced even ten-thousand years ago.”

The human girl blinked. And then her face twisted in a mischief. “Oh, yeah. It might have more similarities than you think.” She began to waggle her bows. “Including to a certain Altean princess.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Also, you kinda remind me of Milo,” she declared. “Just saying.”

His eyes slit further in consternation, for at that moment, the somewhat bumbling but intelligent character of Milo Thatch was sitting in a water puddle after his museum colleagues rejected his proposal. For good measure, Lotor crunched down on another bite of cereal. “I may enjoy ancient history,” he declared, voice muffled, “but I am not as scrawny as he.”

Pidge poked him hard in his ribs, which still jutted out beneath his sleeping robe. “You’re right. You’re scrawnier.”

Lotor flinched away, shooting her a playfully dark glare. “A temporary consequence of being harvested by the witch. I will reclaim my health, and then you will regret making fun of me so.”

Her face split in a wicked smile. “Nah. You’re definitely Milo. Muscle can’t hide that you’re a nerd.”

He sputtered, waving his cereal spoon. “And what of you? With your books and codes. And cat memes.”

“Oh, I’m a nerd,” she declared. “I just own it proudly.”

The fallen prince ate of his cereal in a light disgruntlement. He watched Milo as the character awkwardly stumbled through meeting a busty blond human woman and then a spastic old man in a bathrobe—his objective always set on discovering the secrets of Atlantis and its sources of power.

Milo Thatch owned a cat too.

Lotor’s face began to heat in realization that he did have a lot in common with this strange human man.

***

By the time the character Milo Thatch met the Princess Kida of Atlantis, a real princess had sleepily trailed into the movie room. Allura’s long, pink robes slipped against the tiles of the halls, her curls a tumble down her shoulders. She yawned and proceeded to stumble her way over to Lotor and Pidge.

With little preamble, she flopped over them.

Pidge barely managed to raise her bowl of frosted cheerios in time, squawking. Lotor froze entirely as Allura’s white curls spilled across his lap—her warm cheek leaning against his leg.

“It’s too early for movies,” the princess whined lightly. She snuggled against him and wiggled a bit to get comfortable, laying across two bodies. “I could hear the sound all the way from my room.” Lotor’s attention split from the animated Princess Kida to the living, breathing princess in his lap. His elfin ears flicked back, and his sharp cheeks heated.

Pidge grumped and tried to shove her off.

The princess did not budge, save for a grump right back.

Lotor had long finished off his bowl of frosted cheerios—leaving not even a drop of milk in his wake. But he carefully pushed the bowl further away, in fear that her hair would end up in it. “We are watching Atlantis: The Lost Empire,” he murmured to her, voice straining. “Would you not like to watch it with us?”

Allura made a noncommittal noise, appearing to fall back asleep, the lines in her shoulders relaxing as she exhaled deeply. The action suggested she had grown to trust him a great deal, for the back of her neck lay bare where her hair had parted.

Lotor swallowed hard.

He turned to look at Pidge, who had sighed and given up trying to push Allura off—instead, she’d moved to accept Allura’s robe as something of a blanket and had rested her arms over the back of the princess’s legs.

Lotor hesitated, knowing that the paladins often piled upon each other as a means of displaying familial affection.

As Milo Thatch moved to swim alongside Princess Kida in search of the Heart of Atlantis, Lotor moved to brush his fingers against the waves of Allura’s curls.

It was a soft, hesitant action—testing the waters of her trust. She made a soft noise in response, her lips sleepily stretching. Her elfin ear flicked lightly as the calloused pads of his fingers ran over it. The action itself meant things to Alteans and Galrans, for only family and lovers touched one’s ears.

The princess nuzzled against him.

His heart skipped. Careful of his claws, he continued to toy with her hair as he turned his attention back to the movie, in which Milo’s very interest in Atlantis had now endangered the Royal Atlantean family.

Lotor bit his lip, feeling a great protectiveness for Allura wash over him.

***

The movie indicated that Atlanteans received their power from a great, sentient crystal—the animation of which was not unlike pure quintessence.

“Do you think,” Lotor asked quietly to Pidge, “that it is possible your Atlantis was real, and that some piece of a quintessence-rich substance—a comet, perhaps—landed upon your Earth?”

Pidge looked over at him, readjusting her glasses in interest. “I suppose it would be possible, but you’re suggesting then that Atlantis is real. And that the power in this movie is real.”

“How do you know it isn’t?”

“What would you do with it?” she challenged right back, raising a brow. “You got plans for that power or something?”

The fallen prince made a face. He was still absentmindedly running his claws through Princess Allura’s hair. “No. I simply fear that concentrated sources of quintessence may have this effect in our world—that it bonds to a host and…overtakes them, somehow.” His white brows knitted together. “As it did my own mother, who has been lost to quintessence, and a demon has taken her place.”

Pidge’s gaze fell to Lotor’s hand, which ran along the tip of Princess Allura’s ear. The princess herself was fully asleep against him, her mouth open with a trail of drool slipping against Lotor’s pajama-clad leg.

The girl’s face curled with a sneaky smile. “You’re worried about Allura? Afraid you’re gonna lose her over something, because you loveher?”

Lotor’s eyes snapped to Pidge, his face heating. “I know she has successfully navigated Oriande, but…” He fell silent with emotion for a time before he could add, “My mother came across something of great power, and it changed her.”

The strain in his voice made Pidge’s mischievous smile falter. She hesitated.

The movie played between them as the animated humans fought to steal Kida, who was bonded to the crystal.

Pidge eventually said, voice softer, “Allura’s really powerful. We’re not gonna lose her over anything.”

Lotor’s throat tightened. He continued to stroke Allura’s hair as she slept against him. “You do not know what I have seen quintessence do to people. Even now, if certain groups knew what all Princess Allura could do, they would seek to control her, just as the evil humans in this cartoon wish to do with the crystal-bonded Kida.”

An emotion came over Pidge. “Well—I mean, we wouldn’t let that happen.”

Within the movie, Milo Thatch had accrued a small band willing to risk their lives to retrieve the princess.

Lotor watched, his heart rising in a pound. “Do tell me that they save her,” he demanded. “I will not watch the rest of this if the Princess Kida dies.”

The human girl gave him a look. “It’s a children’s cartoon. They’re not gonna kill off the princess.”

His breath caught oddly, as if he suddenly realized what he was doing. He pulled his hand away from Allura’s hair. “Right, yes. Of course, they wouldn’t.” He breathed out slowly. “That is well.”

“You take these shows too seriously,” Pidge warned. “Half the fun is knowing that it turns out okay, but not knowing how. You just gotta watch.”

“And Princess Kida?” Lotor demanded. “She is not permanently bonded to the crystal by the end, is she?”

Pidge groaned. “Oh my god. Just watch the movie.”

The princess suddenly whined at the loss of Lotor’s touch, her blue eyes cracking open. “No,” she pleaded blearily. She disjointedly reached up, searching for Lotor’s hand. “Keep petting me; it was quite nice.”

He looked down at her, face tightening in a mix of amusement and protectiveness. “Apologies, princess,” he said, moving to run the back of his knuckles against her warm temple. “I will do as you wish.”

She made a happy noise, settling back into sleep.

***

Lotor did not relax until after Milo Thatch had released Princess Kida from her prison, and until after Princess Kida had saved Atlantis and reappeared from out of the crystal’s aura—to land in Milo’s arms.

“You see?” Pidge called, waving her hand at the screen. “What did I tell you?”

Lotor swallowed down emotion. His fingers stilled against Allura’s stiff curls and the warm of her cheek. Despite the fact that he knew the story to be a children’s fairy tale, an odd burn appeared in his eyes. He exhaled shakily. “You were right,” he relented. “The princess lived.”

“Exactly,” Pidge said. For all her youth, she narrowed her eyes with a critical level of awareness. “They saved the princess. Because she had people to fight for her too.”

He raised his vulnerable eyes to her.

An unspoken truth wavered between them—which was that he and the paladins would fight to protect Princess Allura in much the same way, if it ever came to it.

Then, Pidge broke the mood, her expression shifting with a demonic mischief. She waggled her brows. “You love Princess Allura.” She began to shove at Allura’s legs. “Wake up. Lotor wants to declare his undying love for you and tell you that he’ll save you from crystals and evil people and—”

“—Stop it,” he hissed, his cheeks heating. He grabbed for one of the extra pillows that hung off the edge of the couch—and he flung it directly at Pidge. “You gremlin.”

It struck her soundly, but it did not hide her cackle, nor did it stop Princess Allura waking up from all the unsettled movement and raised voices. Her eyes opened a slit. She made a noise of confusion. “What is—going…on?”

She sleepily raised up from Lotor’s lap, her white curls tumbling down her shoulders.

Pidge opened her mouth to respond with a tease, but Lotor smoothly cut in. “Pidge was just putting in another movie,” he said, voice straining. “Weren’t you, Pidge?”

Allura turned to him, still rapidly blinking her eyes. In that moment, she appeared so entirely vulnerable that Lotor struggled against an instinct to gather her into his arms. “Oh, another one?” She yawned. “But I think—I missed all of this one.”

The human girl crawled away, reaching for her watch with her movie collection on it. “Don’t worry,” she called merrily. “I’m sure Lotor wouldn’t mind reenacting it with you one day.”

“I should hope not,” he retorted, his lavender cheeks still in a flame of emotion. “I’d prefer the princess not be in danger at all. And I am not a Milo Thatch.”

“You are definitely a Milo Thatch,” Pidge deadpanned. “Allura, tell him he’s a Milo Thatch. You know he is.”

The sleepy princess only half-understand the plea. She rubbed at her eyes before leaning back against Lotor, resting her heavy cheek against his shoulder, curling up against him. “He’s—my Milo,” she murmured groggily. “Thatch.”

Lotor pressed his lips together, and he damned the skip of his heart.

Allura’s Milo.

He managed a glare at Pidge, but it lacked fire.

The human girl simply smiled back with that demonic mischief before turning away to look for another movie.

[whythinktoomuch]

Something’s wrong. 

Kara can tell the moment she steps into Andrea’s office because Andrea’s avoiding her gaze. And pacing. And fidgeting, meticulously tugging at her own fingers before dropping her hands away altogether with a sharp exhale. 

Andrea was uncertain and nervous, her entire body riddled with unease, and something so clearly had to be wrong. 

“What is it? What happened?” Kara hisses, her shoulders already squaring, ready to be draped by a red cape at a moment’s notice. 

Andrea’s cheeks swiftly lose all color and her heart starts pattering just a tiny bit faster, but her scoff sounds just as natural as ever when she says, “Nothing happened, Kara.” 

“Okay...” Kara crosses her arms, her frown unassuming though unconvinced. “Why did you call me in here then?” 

A darkened scowl tugs at Andrea’s sharp features, her jaw clenching tight and determined. But the moment quickly passes without consequence, and Andrea’s shoulders eventually drop, and she draws back every so slightly. “Just... wanted to make sure you were working.” 

Kara stares, bewildered. “Well, I was.” 

“Good,” Andrea says flatly. “Get back to it then.” 

“All right,” Kara says, her abject curiosity thoroughly unsatisfied. “I’ll go do that.” 

She can feel Andrea’s stare burning a hole into her back as she leaves the office. 

—

Kara notices her right away. It’s impossible not to, even with her senses slightly dulled by the pleasant buzz that could only come from consuming an exorbitant amount of Chinese food in one sitting. 

The sight is unexpected, but not unwelcome, and there’s no point in trying to convince her heart otherwise. So, even though she shouldn’t, Kara can’t help herself as she bursts into Andrea’s office, her heart thundering and stuttering in her ears in equal measure. 

“What are you doing here?” she demands, the question cutting through the air, sharp and splintering.  

Lena barely looks up, hands still carelessly sifting through the various documents spread across Andrea’s desk, her expression somehow bored. As if she had any right to be there. To disrupt Kara’s entire life with a simple look. “What does it look like I’m doing?” 

“Andrea’s not here,” Kara informs her coldly, and Lena just rolls her eyes so heavily, never pausing in her task. And, well, it’s unfair. “Lena, you can’t just—”

“Really?” Andrea’s clipped tone rings out as she stomps into the room. “You’re just going to show up like you—what—own the place?” 

Lena flashes a smirk, her shrug small yet utterly self-satisfied. “Well, you weren’t exactly answering my calls, babe.” 

Andrea’s scowl deepens considerably. “Get out.” 

“Fine...” Lena sighs, tucking a small flashdrive into her pocket. “Already found what I came for anyway.” 

She saunters out, but not without throwing one last look over her shoulder. A frown, apparently, for Kara’s benefit. Her eyebrow raised in such a pointed fashion that it must mean something. 

It twists at Kara’s stomach, already swirling unhappily in the wake of Lena’s perfume. 

Kara quickly glances back at Andrea, who was now taking her seat at her desk with a weary sigh. “Was that something important? Do you need me to get it back for you?” 

“It’s fine,” Andrea says, waving her hand dismissively. “You can go too.” 

Kara blinks, taken aback. “Andrea, I work for you, so if you need me to—”

“Yes! You do,” Andrea all but snaps, cutting Kara off with an icy glare. “And I’m telling you to get out of my office.” 

After a prolonged, teetering moment of holding her tongue, Kara just shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re the boss,” she mutters, fastidiously reminding herself to not slam the door on her way out. 

//

It’s been a long day of putting out literal fires all over downtown for Supergirl, and Kara’s tired, covered head to toe in soot, and in desperate need of a hot shower and a warm bed. And so, it’s only natural that she hears a bona fide emergency unfolding on her way home. 

The unsavory combination of a distinct click of a hammer being pulled back and a panicked wait! has Kara hurtling straight for L-Corp without a second thought. Within seconds, she has her cape thrown up and over Andrea’s trembling form, bullets ricocheting uselessly off the heavy fabric. 

Tugging Andrea close to her chest, Kara throws her cape aside in a sharp flourish, and blows out a gust of freeze breath that scatters the gunmen like veritable dominoes. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Kara can’t help but demand, her tone verging on the more exasperated side of incredulity. “Why are you snooping around Lena’s office?” 

Andrea snorts. “I wasn’t snooping,” she says in a slight sneer, and the wave of whiskey hits Kara as a solid wall of sickly sweet because, oh, Andrea was so very clearly and oh so thoroughly drunk. “I was just... well, it doesn’t matter. Just let go of me.” 

Kara backs off, shaking her head. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Lena right now, but whatever it is, you need to fix it. Fast. Because it almost got you killed tonight.” 

“They weren’t after me,” Andrea says, rolling her eyes. “They were after Lena. I just happened to be here, and well, collateral damage, I suppose.” 

“But you would have died just the same. How are you not getting that? You could have died, Andrea, and—” 

“Stop,” Andrea snaps, her eyes wild, yet terribly, terribly focused. “You don’t have to do this. I’m not some pathetic damsel in distress like your precious little Lena. I don’t need—”

The next thing Kara knew, Andrea’s staring up at her, mouth slightly agape, her delicate wrist somehow encased in Kara’s tight grasp. “Never... talk about Lena like that,” she gets out between painfully gritted teeth, and Andrea’s breath falters in a half-hearted scoff. “She’s a friend. Mine and yours, and she’s the most...” 

A pained whimper tumbles from Andrea’s lips and stops Kara cold, and she promptly snatches her hand back, cheeks burning furiously in realization and shame. 

Andrea rubs at her wrist, where Kara’s grip remains readily apparent, an inexcusable brand of angry pink and slight bruising. “A friend,” she repeats, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Right.” 

“I’m sorry...” Kara reaches out instinctively, her heart sinking with heavy regret, but Andrea flinches away from her. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you...” She sighs and backs off even more with a ducked head. “Listen, just go home, okay? Take care of yourself.” 

With one last apologetic nod, Kara grabs the pair of still unconscious, would-be assassins by their shirt collars and takes off into the air, desperately fighting off the inevitable guilt still hanging over her as she flies over to the nearest police station. 

// 

When she hears the persistent knock at her door, Kara wastes no time super-speeding out of her bed and right to the door in question. Because it’s practically four in the morning, and anyone knocking at her door at four in the morning has to be having an emergency of some sort or another. 

But even so, it comes as a complete shock when Andrea ends up being the person standing on the other side of the door. 

“Andrea?” Kara blinks, the exhaustion slipping off her bones as bewilderment settles in its stead. But Andrea hardly seems to notice, shoving her way into Kara’s apartment like she belongs there. “... How did you know where I live?” 

“What the hell is your deal with Lena?” Andrea says, whirling around in a fury, and it’s immediately evident that she was somehow even drunker now than she had been at L-Corp. “Why are you so fucking obsessed with her anyway?” 

Kara’s jaw drops in outright disbelief. “I—ex-cuse me?” she sputters out. “You show up to my house in the middle of the night to interrogate me about Lena, and I’m the one obsessed with her?” 

“You’re changing the subject,” Andrea says, words sliding out of her mouth careless and slurred. “I’m just asking a simple little question, and all I need is a simple little answer, so if you would just please get—”

“It’s none of your business.” 

Andrea blinks. Then blinks again. Then stares. 

“It’s... none of your business how I feel about Lena,” Kara says with a defiant shrug. “Or anything about us really, okay? Just try to focus on your own issues with her, and stop making everything so messy and complicated.” She then shakes her head, sighing. “This is all highly inappropriate, by the way. You’re my boss, Andrea. You can’t be drunkenly berating me about personal matters like this. Like, at my apartment? This late?” 

“So, you meant it then?” Andrea asks softly. 

“Meant... what?” 

“What were you going to say?” Andrea asks instead, now tugging at her sleeve, rubbing insistently at the imprint that Kara’s hand had left around her wrist. “Before you stopped yourself, what were you going to say about Lena?” 

Kara’s stomach drops, the implications behind Andrea’s simple line of questioning striking her where she stands, where she lives. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about...” She goes to adjust her glasses, but her hand closes around empty air, and Kara’s already made so many mistakes today since getting out of bed this morning, and yet somehow, it seems that she’s made even more just in the last five minutes. 

“Don’t be like that,” Andrea says, pressing closer, looking up at Kara so earnestly that Kara’s ears start to burn, as if in solidarity. “Just tell me.” 

Kara forces a laugh, eyes darting helplessly around her sparse living room. “She’s just... really important to me, okay? Happy now?” 

“Even with everything going on between you two?” 

“Well, yeah. Nothing’s ever going to change how I feel about—”

Kara’s cut off as Andrea’s lips crash against hers. 

All higher brain function snuffs out, and Kara freezes in place. She can barely process the firm press of Andrea’s mouth, soft lips moving against her own slowly yet insistently, the bittersweet taste of whiskey spreading across her tongue... 

Then Kara grabs Andrea’s shoulders, shoving her at arm’s length with a strangled gasp. “What are you doing? You can’t—Andrea, you’re drunk!” 

“I’m... not.” Andrea sighs, almost resigned, and Kara could almost laugh out of sheer incredulity. Or maybe hysteria. Perhaps both. 

“Um, yes, you are. I can literally taste the whiskey off your breath,” Kara says, before abruptly coughing and shaking her head. “I mean, smell. I can smell the... you know, the whiskey...” 

“No,” Andrea growls, her eyes growing sharp, alert. “I’m not... Andrea.” 

Kara takes a step back, her entire face scrunching into a deeply perplexed frown. 

She studies the face staring back at her. The sharp features, the pouting red lips and the jagged scar across the brow, all deeply familiar and completely at odds with the assertion that had just spilled forth from those very same lips. 

But Kara wills herself to look harder, to look past the obvious, and meets the insistent gaze before her head-on. Her heart pounds painfully in her chest, somehow recognizing the eyes before her brain can even catch up. 

They’re the wrong color, but it’s the very same softened expression that had accompanied the words that still drift into Kara’s awareness at the most inconvenient moments. 

I know you believe that everything is good...

Kara swallows hard.

And kind...

She blinks and shakes her head, but it clears up absolutely nothing for her. 

And that is one of the things I love about you. 

Kara holds her breath, and dares to venture, to believe, to hope. 

“... Lena?”