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hoseoksluna · 2 months

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MURK | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 16.9k

summary: one encounter with jungkook heals you enough to mend your boyfriend's heart.

pinterest board: murk

warnings: anxiety attack, different forms of self-harm and self-sabotage, mental agony, mutual masturbation, toying with polyamory, foreshadowing the use of a sex toy, alcohol consumption, seduction, provocation, teasing, oc wears pretty lingerie, cuckold kink, guided female masturbation, dom/sub dynamics, nipple play, clit rubbing, ass play, oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, facial, cum eating

note: oh my god, this was supposed to have three parts, but it was getting way too long and i decided to prolong the series. i'm not gonna even mention how many parts this series is gonna have bc my characters surprise me every time i finish writing so... they're the boss of me. ANYWAYS, pls i am so proud of this work of mine and i can't wait for you all to read it. pls, spam my inbox anonymously! i need to hear your thoughts, so pretty please, let me know everything you're feeling, hating, expecting etc. i'm absolutely obsessed with oc, jk and yoongi. ALSO, let me know what team you are. team yoongi or team jk? i'll put a poll in the final part if i remember. hehe ENJOY READING ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

Sensing Yoongi’s emotions, the clouds pull in, shunning the sunlight and you feel it. You feel it, enormously.

The wind becomes violent. Curtains of sheer gray slap against the windows, undulating with such might that you sense its urgency. You stare at it in deep thought, naked and barren—void of any dignity, void of any rightness of feelings. A hole of blackness takes form in the middle of your chest, where the memory of Yoongi exiting the room hastily plays on a loop and there’s a faint, feeble hand in you, one of that urgency, that reaches for him, while the other remains slack at your side, caressing your own skin, pacifying your selfishness, your hypnosis—dragging you away from the side you had unwittingly and so unrightfully chosen.

And while you want to mend what you’ve caused in your relationship, the only side you want to take at the moment is your own. The defeat pains you still, but what aches even more is the feeble wish there wasn’t any defeat at all. Not on Yoongi’s face, not on yours.

You don’t regret what you’ve done. You don’t want to regret anything anymore, which is why you’re still standing dressed in your femininity as Jungkook apprehensively rakes his hands through his hair on the bed. You care very little for it because a bigger part of you is concerned about the well-being of your boyfriend. You wonder what he’s up to downstairs. Is he pacing? Is he busying himself from the onrush of his negative emotions, not able to stand the sight of you? You’d run to him, but there’s a bigger matter at hand. You have to fix your mind first. You have to cleanse yourself of the mess and the chaos, sort out the darkness so the light pours in.

The light that will guide you to make the right decisions at last. The light that will burst your ugliness to smithereens, smother you with its heat so the hypnosis won’t penetrate it again. The light that should, ultimately, help Yoongi, help your relationship—fix its face, soothe out the overbearing tension.

You’re aware Jungkook put you under a spell, now that the wind and Yoongi’s coldness has sobered you up. Turned you against him. Made you forget about him. You give zero fucks about how he does it time and time again. What you will concentrate on in the present time is making sure it won’t happen again. How? You’ll figure it out. Somehow.

You don’t want any of the males to regard you as of now—and you wish you were alone, you wish you could escape like Yoongi did. That thought leads you, conspicuously, to begin to understand the reason behind his actions, but you don’t allow it to unfold in you. Not yet. You turn around to look at Jungkook.

Elbows propped on his thighs, he’s digging a hole into the hardwood floors with the blackness of his irises. A small mole kisses the side of his ribs, the only visible part of his body that is otherwise clouded in shadows. You take your eyes away from that sight, not trusting yourself, hating yourself for naturally looking at that intimate part of him. Upon the sound of your movement, Jungkook flicks his eyes towards your form. You dislike everything about his attentiveness to you with every fiber of the betrayal that your body has become.

His face is squished in his hands. He doesn’t look at your bareness. Merely studies the emotions written on your face. Like the healer he is, you know he wants to find something, anything to latch himself onto. And while you once obsessed over this need of his to mend, to make right, you despise it now. In spite of it, while you swallow down your distaste for it, your hand yearns to pet him like the wounded puppy he is, because you know that the tumultuous darkness both men are facing is of your origin, of your doing.

You keep it clenched in a tight fist.

You don’t want to touch him anymore. You don’t want to touch any of them. Don’t want to cause any more harm than you already have with your desires.

Jungkook startles when you make your way towards your travel bag. You hide your breasts beneath your forearm, not wished to be seen, not wishing to be vulnerable like that. The feeling of your stickiness along the inner sides of your thighs makes you cringe, worsens your hatred, and tears begin to sting in your waterline when you unzip your bag and grab the first thing you see. Jungkook opens his mouth to say something, but for the last time you avert your gaze from him and bolt to his bathroom. At the sound of his heavy steps, you slam the door shut.

He calls your name and it is only then, when you’re alone, that you let those bitter tears and whimpers emit out of you. The sound is hidden by each strike of his palm upon the wood and your hand flies to your mouth in effort to stifle your emotions, feeling undeserving of them, feeling wrong, ugly, not worthy of his damned attention—not worthy of anything.

“Sweetheart,” Jungkook whines. The first pet name he ever called you. You let out a pained sound and he forces the door open with all his might. Even though you don’t want to, you let him see the state of you—clutching your wrinkled dress and panties, concealing the evidence of the pleasure he gave to your body, of your femininity that he had put under his spell.

You step away from the threshold, slinking deeper into the shadows of the bathroom. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be looking at you with such solicitude and affection. His brows shouldn’t be knitted like that, those eyes bigger and rounded than they usually are, fists tight and clenched, veins thumping and thick. Yoongi should be standing in his place with the intention to heal. Not him.

“Please, go away,” you whisper, hot tears pouring down your pallid cheeks. You’re ashamed of them because you know full well that at this point you should be doing anything but crying. You’ve gone through so much turmoil, mingled with the darkness to such great extent that you should be proud of your work. You wanted this at some point—you wanted to remain the opposite force with separate feelings. You wanted to be his, when you had no right to choose.

Jungkook’s eyes glisten. You turn your back to him, unable to be a witness to his emotions. You can’t see that; you don’t deserve to and he shouldn’t be feeling like this. He should’ve long exited this disorder—

You sob louder, exhausted of your thoughts, exhausted of shoulds, of wrongness. Turn the shower on, aware of the traces of disobedience and pain on your backside and you want to hide, but you have nowhere to go to.

Jungkook turns the main lights off, leaving only the soft flickering bulbs on by the mirror. Ever the healer who senses your emotions by some sixth sense that you hate. Dimness covers your shame.

He takes away your dress and panties and you let him. Folds them neatly on his laundry hamper. You watch him treat your underwear with such gentleness that it hurts. A flashback of him ripping your thong and making your bum red fills your brain, causing your feelings to expand in your chest—so much that you think your body is too small to keep them in. You can’t breathe, your lungs don’t have enough space to stretch and you panic, taking small breaths that don’t appease your need for air. Not at all.

You step into the shower, needing to get away.

The hot water burns on the curves of your behind and you hiss, but it alleviates your hatred. You deem it is precisely what you deserve. Your hand turns the temperature higher, sobbing into the stream of water, lungs heaving with such heft and it is okay, for it camouflages your hypocrisy. That is, until Jungkook notices it.

“Are you crazy?” he mutters in dismay, fixing the temperature, but you grip his wrist briefly, pushing it away. Don’t look at him. Only warn him this way, silently. His miffed sigh wafts into the mist rising along your form, diffusing into your hair that still carries the scent of the pond. You want to wash it all out. “It’s going to hurt more like this.”

You scowl, cupping the water in your hands like a child. “I don’t care. Leave.”

The outward pain of your body isn’t the problem here. It aggravates you how he doesn’t see it—how he can be so ignorant to the more important matter at hand. Yoongi left because of him and because of you, because of the single-minded pleasure between you both that had nothing to do with Yoongi. You might as well have been there alone with him—Yoongi being just a pair of helping hands. Redundant.

Burning. Burning of eyes, burning of skin, burning ache of heart.

Jungkook scoffs at your forwardness, dumbfounded. Has the audacity to follow the drop of water trickling down the small of your back. You splash him, willing him to go away, but he stays put. Unbuttons his cargos. Hooks his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers, ridding himself, and stepping into the shower with you, sliding the door shut.

You whisk your eyes to him with as much ill-will as you’re able to muster and he seizes it, unafraid of it, backing you against the wall. Solemn mien, subdued and so soft amidst the hardness of his decisiveness. Small pearls of emotion are stained upon the wrinkles around the corners of his eyes, twinkling in the shadows in tandem with the ever persisting glint perched on top of his irises. “I told you to leave.”

He doesn’t blink. “You splashed me,” he utters, lowly. Grips your waist and pushes you against the coolness of the tiles. It takes a hold of the burn and rips it away, relief flooding in its place and your features relax against your will. “See how it feels better?”

It does, but you don’t give him the benefit of the doubt—you refuse to. Not when you deserve to rot for hurting your boyfriend enough to make him leave, not when it should be him standing here with you—

“Don’t punish yourself,” Jungkook whispers, fixing the temperature yet again, letting the mist disperse. Such a tender, velvety sound that reaches deep inside of you, even when you want to fight him, even when you think that punishing yourself is the least you can do, considering how despicable you’ve become. But then he dabs a small amount of body wash onto his palm, rubs it across your sternum and it nobbles the drift of your self-sabotage.

You feel the snugness of his touch, the darkness thickening in you and you take a fright of it.

You put a stop to it.

Grasping his wrist, you blink through the unrelenting fragrance of cherries filling your nostrils. “Don’t touch me.”

Seeing the panic flitting over your damp eyes, he lets go, respecting your wish. Smears it on the broadness of his chest instead. “Alright, I won’t touch you.”

You sigh a whiny, vulnerable breath of relief. The glint of his irises ripples as tears pool across them. He, too, blinks them away. Stills as a sculpture while watching the film of your emotions. For a mere moment. Your throat constricts. Time, then, resumes.

Jungkook hands you the bottle. Silence suffuses the profound atmosphere as you lather yourself in the cherry aroma. Almost without touching your skin, he peels your hair away from your back, capacitating you to reach your shoulder. As if his hands, now that they’ve acknowledged themselves with your body, simply cannot keep their distance. You shoot him a look that forces him to drop his limb. Note that it trembles on its way down to his side; note the same trepidation beginning its course on your body. Your mouth rounds in yet another rush of emotions, but you don’t cry.

You’re so tired. So tired of feeling. So tired of guilt, of shame, of getting up and falling again.

You avoid your intimate parts, your breasts and your behind. You hold your body instead, arms wrapped around your ribcage in effort to put yourself back together. You don’t understand why he’s here, why he cares; why he thinks he has the right to touch you without your boyfriend being present, why he thinks the situation between you and Yoongi is something he needs to remedy. And why, ultimately, he thinks it’s right to be on your side, instead of Yoongi’s.

He’s not your friend. He doesn’t know you.

You look up at him to fire that question at him, but Jungkook clutches the shower head and, with lukewarm water, he cleanses you of the foam, the bubbles and the stickiness on your thighs that he never got to wipe clean because you had pushed him away earlier. And then it happens.

He cleanses you of your dirtiness, of your hatred and of your tiredness, too. With the same shower head, the same lukewarm water. And you can’t explain how he does it, how your body lets him, how it willingly lets go until there’s nothing in you anymore. Just the cherry perfume and the hole in your chest with a murky cloud in the middle. You merely watch it dribble down your skin, plop onto the tiles on the floor, swimming around your feet and his. Dumbstruck.

You feel like stomping on it, but you don’t have the energy. Figure it will drown in the small pool of water on its own, die a slow, painful death, before it trickles down the drain.

You don’t know how it came about now that it’s gone and you can’t take your eyes off of him. All he did was rinse you off. And the ridiculousness of it all is that, the more Jungkook deepens your eye contact, the more you want it back. You want to be the one who purges you of it. Steal the magic from his hands and splatter it back on your skin, in place of the cherries. He can keep those.

Why did he come? Why didn’t he go to Yoongi?

And you ask him. “Why are you here?”

He fishes for a bottle of shampoo. “Will you let me wash your hair?”

You scowl up at him. “I asked you a question.”

Stillness in his features. “So did I.”

That damned stubbornness, so reminiscent of yours, of your muted, silent one, hidden within you. Fair enough. You search within yourself for any hint of protest. Find none—find it’s been washed away, find cherries and the heft of the cloud, no darkness, much to your dismay. You turn your back towards him.

“Tilt your head back.”

Thankful that he didn’t do it himself, you do as he says. Jungkook wets your hair and you feel the pond leaving you, your heart skipping over to latch onto it, adamant on not letting it leave, but alas—it disappears along with everything else. You wish your heart would trickle down the drain, too. You have no need for it, anyways.

Jungkook’s touch on your hair is benign, careful as he rubs the shampoo on your scalp. You flutter your eyes shut, welcoming in, somehow, the massage that diminishes the intensity, which your thoughts are hurled at you with, as though he was the owner of them and he came home to make order. And they settle altogether to listen as he begins to speak. “It shattered my heart. To see both of you so broken because of me. I saw it at dinner at first. Then I saw it again today. It pains me. It pains me that it’s my fault.”

Silence, hefty, strong silence. The principle of being seen by another pair of eyes; the principle of your agony being seen and understood, no longer obscured within your mind, within your heart. Jungkook didn’t just see you, he saw Yoongi, too. Saw through you both. Something about that, along with the work of his fingertips, mitigates the heaviness of your emptiness, of your cloud, but it doesn’t tear the misty body. Not yet.

Your throat is dry. “Why are you here, then? Why aren’t you with Yoongi? He’s your friend.”

He gently drags his palms across your length. “Because Yoongi deals with things like this on his own. He doesn’t need a friend when he goes through shit. He needs to be alone.”

You don’t understand. Yoongi always needed you when his mental health was at stake. Needed you as he unraveled the entanglement of ropes of that darkness that had enveloped his mind by talking to you about it. Then, he would eat with you, fuck you and try again the next day. It would be a long process, but it would be something you’d go through together. There never was a time he’d walk that path alone.

And then it hits you.

That was before you. Before he met you, he meandered through that decaying meadow alone. Jungkook served in the military—he doesn’t know anything about the change that occurred. Doesn’t know that Yoongi gave up his isolation.

And you tell him. Merely a hint of it. Figure it’s Yoongi’s story to tell and you don’t have the heart to snatch that opportunity away from him.

Listening to your words, Jungkook slackens. You only hear the sound of the shower head being put back into its place that indicates his shock to you. You figure he wanted to rinse off the shampoo, but the information paralyzed his body. You turn around to see that bewilderment writing verses across his features. Tenderness, too. A tendril of liquid emotion swirling past his waterline. “I tried my best to make that happen when I could,” he utters and you don’t think he realizes he said it, eyes unfocused, fixed on the tile beside your arm. “You can’t imagine how difficult it was for him. To let you in.”

You feel the same tenderness curling into your cloud. Your mouth rounds again. Touched, terribly touched. Gladness holds hands with that tenderness, gladness that he didn’t leave when you had told him to. Because if he had never stepped inside the shower, you wouldn’t have known. You wouldn’t have known the secret that changes everything.

You yearn to see Yoongi. Yearn to hug him, hold him, to pour out your love into him. Think you’re ready now. Stable enough to satisfy your craving. And in the love that you feel for him, you sense the light swarming, begging to be seeped into him.

You stand beneath the stream to rinse off the shampoo, the water blanketing your head, peace penetrating your skull, tidying up the mess in your mind. Hushing out your thoughts now that your negative feelings long slinked away. You’re a new person. Clean, purified. And while you find it hard to believe, all you want to do is truly run to Yoongi.

You can’t let him venture back to that forlorn meadow, to the ghost of his isolation. You might have shown him the way, but you have the will to stop him—and that’s more than enough.

The healer that Jungkook is… he did it again. He dismantled your attachment and now he fixed your mind. You don’t know from what source he had rooted out the light, but he gave it to you. He gave it to you when you needed it the most, without knowing a thing about it.

Blindly, you hook a finger around his index in a gesture of thanks. You don’t want to look at his nakedness. Don’t want to be pulled into that energy again. It brings his attention to you and you want to weep. Differently now. You want to weep due to the fact he somehow, seemingly, knows because he cups himself. Due to the roundness of his eyes that you know, that still live under your skin—differently now, too. Due to the fact that you got to be acquainted with him, despite the ruckus and the pain it came with.

And you hope, in all truthfulness, that you remain something along the lines of friends after this day is over. How else would you have gotten to this healing?

You open your mouth to express your gratitude, but Jungkook speaks first. “Don’t look at my worm.”

The laughter that dribbles out of your mouth is so lightweight, so full of breezy and summer-breathed relief that the tears, which were held in, do break through the confinement and roll down the apples of your cheeks. Different, different tears.

Friends, yes, please. You beg the heavens. May they let him become your friend.

Jungkook scrunches his nose, squeezing your finger, relief, too, washing over him. “Don’t cry, I swear it’s not small like this all the time. It gets bi—”

“Get me a towel, you dummy,” you say, softly, amidst your sputtering laughter, wiping your tears away. Jungkook smiles, the change of the atmosphere illuminating him from beneath, and he slides the door open, letting the slight cold air in. You turn off the water, focusing your eyes on the last ripples of water draining your negative emotions until they slip, entirely, away.

Jungkook holds out a beige towel for you. Doesn’t wrap it around you; still respects your wish. Lets you take it from him and then he disappears into the bedroom, closing the door shut behind him.

You used the alone time to doll yourself up for Yoongi. At least a little bit—you didn’t want to overdo it, amongst other things that you already had.

Although you missed your favorite mango scent, the cherries didn’t seem so bad and you got accustomed to it fairly quickly as you swiped a tiny bit of your cream blush along your cheeks, where you’ve let your relieved tears dry. You smeared the same tint of soft red upon the puffiness of your lips, connecting it to the perfume, connecting it to the healing that sank lower and lower in your gut. And you sealed it into the entwistment of your braid—sealed it fully.

You won’t let it leave you. Not this time; not again.

By the time your feet pad down the wooden stairs, you discover what Yoongi was up to in his absence. Three plates of ramen are prepared on the dinner table, gone cold by now, along with utensils and opened cans of fizzy drinks. The sight lids your eyes with tears, but you stifle them, blink them away. You thought he wanted to forget you, when in reality he had you in mind the whole time. And not just you, but your culprit as well—and he cooked him food.

A sudden roar forces your head to whisk towards the balcony. And your heartbeat quickens. You don’t feel your legs as you speed outside.

Yoongi sits on top of the stairs, a cigarette in hand, torso twisted, facing Jungkook, whose shoulders sag in consternation, palms open towards him. He makes a move to his side, but Yoongi raises a limb to stop him. Looks at you for a moment. At your wet hair, at the same state of Jungkook’s. Your heart lodges in your throat—

“Get away from me,” Yoongi mutters, taking a long drag from his cigarette, and you don’t feel anything at all. Not your legs trembling, threatening to drop to the ground. Not the standstill of your bloodstream. You’re struck, unable to speak, to think. Yoongi rises to his feet and points his busy fingers at you. “Did you enjoy your shower?” he spits the venom in your face, ruining your makeup that you diligently put on for him—your tears flow, mingling with it, hot to the touch. “Did you enjoy fucking him?”

You gasp. “No, Yoongi, I didn’t—”

Yoongi’s own tears pool in his clouded eyes. You’ve never seen them before and they break you, tear apart the cloud in you. “You didn’t what, honey?” he croaks out. Repeats the question.

Your sobs ache, but you don’t care. You take a step towards him, reach out your hand like you should’ve done earlier before he left and he takes it. The light that spills out from your chest radiates him, radiates him enough that he gives you the chance to explain yourself, to redeem his heart and you’re willing to do anything for it. His palm is cold, more cold than it’s ever been and Yoongi squeezes you, as if to beg you to undo the gashes upon his heart. Jungkook looks at the intertwinement for a mere second and you refuse to note the sliver of pain whirling past his eyes. Not this time; not again—this is about you and Yoongi. And you’re glad when he leaves. You don’t watch him go.

“I didn’t have sex with him,” you whisper, the only way you could keep your voice still, your tears soaking the neckline of your lacy dress. You will your healing not to quiver, but to remain strong, remain unbreakable. “I swear on my life that I didn’t.”

The same drops of pain pour down his face and you can’t bear it. You bury your face into his clothed chest, bunching the material of his T-shirt in your fists, needing him to believe you, needing him—

“You took a shower with him,” he breathes in pure disbelief. You feel it palpitate in his heart that your forehead is pressed against. This time, you understand right away how wrong that was—that showers are something that belongs to you and him, your shared rose garden of some sort that they could become, even though you were too smothered by the darkness to realize it fully in the moment.

You halt the shame creeping in. The guilt, the wisps of darkness. You’ve healed, and it shall stay that way. No more.

“I took a shower alone.” The wind nips at you and it is like a slash of a whip on your back. “He came in—”

Yoongi sucks in a breath. Lets his cigarette fall to the floor of the veranda. With his lips pursed and like a bolt of lightning you can’t keep in your hands, he rips himself out of your hold and lopes inside the cabin with heavy, wrathful steps.

And you can’t stop it—the colliding of Yoongi’s fist on Jungkook’s cheekbone.

You yelp, grabbing a hold of the fabric of Yoongi’s T-shirt to pull him back, your sight blurred enough that you can’t see. You can’t see properly the way Yoongi doesn’t let Jungkook fall to the floor, but instead grabs him by the collar and fumes in his face. Your sobs choke you and you press yourself against his back, wrapping your arms around his torso, willing him to stop, begging him in your silent language.

You feel the heavy, long thuds of his heart, the trembling lift and fall of his chest and you squeeze him tighter, weeping into the cloth of his garment, emitting liquid fear—fear of Yoongi receiving the same hit, fear of the darkness, much bigger one, enveloping all three of you. And you don’t have the time to blame yourself for causing this. Yoongi’s words stop you dead in your tracks.

“You forced yourself on her?” he hisses, pushing him to and fro like the curtain billowing behind you. “Are you that fucking desperate for pussy that you forced yourself on my girl? Should I fucking kill you?”

A momentary stillness. Your breath is loud. Louder than the hard huffs of air escaping the mouths of the two males.

“Let go, hyung,” Jungkook croaks out, defeated. And you don’t know how the sound of it makes you feel. Perhaps, you’re feeling nothing, which is a good thing. You put your boyfriend first in your weak heart, his feelings, his well-being. Not Jungkook; not yourself. Even though your heart silently, painlessly cracks.

“I asked you a question.” Yoongi’s wrath rises, absorbing the room, despite the fact his voice is deadly calm. You squeeze him harder.

He did force himself into your personal space, but if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been healed. You wouldn’t be here, on your boyfriend’s side. And the thought of being the opposite force if he hadn’t done that, cradling his back instead of Yoongi’s terrifies you enough that you speak up—in need to fix the situation.

“He didn’t, Yoongi. I promise,” you whimper, burying your face deeper into the middle between his shoulder blades. And there you feel his spine shake. You caress his stomach to soothe him, peppering kisses along that strong column.

Yoongi punches him again. It reverberates throughout your whole body. You only hear the crash of Jungkook’s form onto the floor.

“Only over my dead body will you lay a finger on her again,” Yoongi hisses and he twists his wrist to alleviate himself of the affliction scattering along his knuckles. “And what you’ve done to her, the pain you’ve caused her is something I will never forgive you for.”

Stillness. Terrible, terrible stillness. The whip of the wind. A roar of an upcoming storm in the heavens far, far away. You don’t become it. You remain yourself. His girlfriend, defended.

Yoongi turns around and cradles your face in his hands. Wet, worried eyes, begging you for something that you can’t pinpoint. Shiny, sniffling nose, suppressing his emotions. Red, regretful mouth, breathing out exasperated breaths. Quivering chin—quaint in the rawness of his expressed love towards you. You yearn to kiss him, you yearn to take him home, so terribly remorseful that you got him into this gut-wrenching mess. And you listen to your body, fulfill the only right decision you’ve come across since meeting his friend.

“Let’s go home, baby,” you whisper, pecking him softly. Yoongi nods, wiping your tears away. Takes your hand and leads you towards the front door.

Jungkook, now standing on his wobbly feet, bruised and bloodied, merely watches the pair of you. Sorrowful. And as you walk away from him, you clutch in your heart what he’s done for you.

Yoongi hands you his car keys. “Wait in the car.”

You nod and you go. Don’t stick around to see the unfolding of the storm. Don’t say goodbye.

The rain pitter-patters on the roof of the car. You’re tired of it. You’re tired of the summer. Don’t find any beauty in it. Not even in the mountains and the trees.

Yoongi hasn’t come back yet.

Your stomach grumbles, but you don’t feel any hunger. You’ve nibbled on your bottom lip so much that rawness of blood is all that your teeth sink into. The same blood that, much like your darkened self-sabotage, trickled out of Jungkook’s nostril. It tastes bitter on your tongue.

A ruthless carousel of scenarios spin in your mind and you’re tightly buckled in the seat of fear with no way out. The fear that, in your absence, Yoongi’s hit got reciprocated. The fear that the same blood you taste could, possibly, be on your own hands.

You want to get away from here. Far, far away.

When Yoongi emerges from the cabin, a thunder announces it. The only blood you detect is the dried one on his knuckles. The rain didn’t get to clean it and once he places the same hand upon the shivering coldness of your thigh, a decision perks up in you. A decision to not let anyone get in the way of mending and cleansing anymore.

You shall be the one who does it now. Not the rain, not Jungkook. They’ve both done enough.

And when you lift that wounded hand to your lips, you wish you could clean it with your tears—but you fear the salt would only pain him more. So you settle for your sighs of relief, for your gentle kisses and for the light in you to do the work.

“No more tears, honey,” Yoongi murmurs, cupping your chin and pecking you. “It’s over now.”

You drift to sleep during the ride home.

And you sleep through the whole afternoon in an anguished effort to forget. Forget the blood, forget the sound of Jungkook’s body hitting the floor… forget yourself.

You didn’t dream about anything at all. Only the darkness consumed you, a lullaby of nothingness.

And when you awake, your feet groggily take you to Yoongi. They seem to know where he is, even when your eyelids are still half-closed, even when your brain still dozes. A canopy of dusky, darkening heavens, with hues of roses dispersed all around, gently fondles your eyes to rouse them fully and right here, on the balcony, much different to the one you spent your afternoon on—much smaller, much more confined—is where you find your boyfriend. An empty pack of cigarettes on the table, a cold purple lighter and a dark bottle of liquor.

His strained back greets you first. He doesn’t hear your steps; he doesn’t sense your presence and it isn’t until your fingertips touch his saddened spine that he turns around. Wrinkles of the same dejected nature, absolute despair wrung into the paleness of his face. You cradle it and you bolster it when he spills into your hands, when you feel the hotness of his tears. And you spill with him—the only thing left to do.

You will your light to swathe him. Press his head against your chest as you lead him to take a seat with you on his lap. And you keep your mouth tightly shut when the soreness of your muscles, the slight discomfort of the burn on your skin forces a whine out of you. You keep it caged in. Put your boyfriend first.

Sifting your fingers through his hair, you kiss his scalp—kiss his mind, even when you don’t know its contents. To ease it, whatever it was that caused him to break.

You sit like this until the moon springs from the clouds. You don’t look at it. Refuse to.

It’s Yoongi who speaks first, cold fingers sunk beneath your thighs, seeking your warmth.

“Tell me everything from the beginning,” he murmurs, weary eyes boring into yours. “I need to hear it from you.”

You’d give him anything he asked, anything he wished for; you’d pierce your heart if the time asked for it. And so you nod, place your hand on his chest, lie against his good shoulder and you begin to leak. Leak the simplest of words you’re able to find in your windswept mind.

“He put me in a trance when we were intimate. So much that I lost my mind, lost my surroundings, lost my sense of home.” You swallow, dryly, thinking that’s the best way you could explain it without deepening the gashes upon his heart. Decide you will not overdo it. “And when you left and I breathed in the fresh air, it was like I’d woken up from it. It hurt so much. I was worried about you, but I wasn’t ready to face you. Not when I had to deal with the repercussions.”

Yoongi squeezes the flesh of your thigh to comfort you, thumb fondling the skin back and forth, listening intently.

“I didn’t understand at first why you left. I was so out of it. But little pieces started to put it together in my mind as I was thinking about it. And then I saw Jungkook with his head in his hands and I knew I’d done something really, really bad. I wanted to run away, like you did, but I had no other place to go to other than the bathroom. And Jungkook…” you trail off, taking a deep breath, preparing yourself mentally for this part of the story—the thread that is linked to the bruises upon Yoongi’s knuckles. “I thought he wanted to comfort me, and maybe he did. I pushed him away but he relented. He was concerned because I—” A lump forms in your throat, your lashes quiver. “I made sure the water was boiling hot because I wanted to burn off—I wanted to punish myself for making you leave, for hurting you. And then he got in the shower and I didn’t say anything.”

You pause for a moment, thinking about how you’re supposed to mention the matter of the burn of your backside and his concern regarding it without wounding Yoongi.

“He—” Your throat constricts and Yoongi cradles your face in his palm, lifting your head so you can gaze into his eyes, draw strength from him. He nods, encouraging you to continue, while seemingly giving you as much time as you need. Tears the lump apart. “He was worried because the hot water was making the burn on my butt worse, but I—I didn’t feel it. I was crying so hard.”

His eyes search for something in yours and you know right away what it is. The answer to his question on whether he touched you. You wrap your arm around his neck. Glad it didn’t wound him. Enough that you overbrim with the desire to assuage his disquiet.

“He didn’t touch me,” you whisper, although it’s not entirely true. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. “Not in the way you think. I told him to stop. He wanted to wash me. I told him no.”

He blinks, but you can’t read his solemn features. You see the memory of Jungkook gripping your waist and pushing you against the tiles, so you wouldn’t burn your skin, and you saying nothing displayed on them. It overwhelms you, but you fight it. What’s done is done.

The worst part of the story awaits you. You pluck it, ready to get it over with.

“All he did was rinse me off. And he told me about how it hurt him to see us like this because of him. I felt everything leaving me when I was listening to him. I don’t know how, but I did. He asked to wash my hair and I let him. I felt so relieved to be ridded of the guilt and the pain I felt that I started crying again. He made me laugh. And then he left me alone. I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if he hadn’t been there.”

Stillness, awfully quiet stillness—like the one at the cabin, but you do not fear it. An abrupt onrush of strength fills your bones, giving you the notion that whatever comes next is something you’ll be able to endure.

Yoongi drops his hand. You will your heart not to drop along with it.

“The lines have been blurred so much that I—” He averts his gaze. Towards the glimmering stars up above as if they could give him the strength he’s now void of. “I don’t know if it’s fair for me to feel the way I do, when—when I let him have you.”

You are able to endure it. A motherly stimulus creeps in, one that has the capacity for the mightiness of whatever it is that he’s feeling. You want to swallow it down. You desire to.

“What do you feel, baby?” you whisper, nudging your nose against his, an Eskimo kiss to relieve him, to help him. “Tell me.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes in regret. “It should’ve been me,” he breathes. You nod, agreeing with him, even though you’ve accepted that fate wrote it was meant to be Jungkook. Perhaps for that very reason, he was inscribed to be pulled into that whole situation to begin with, no matter how lewd it was. “And it should’ve been me under that—”

He doesn’t let himself finish his sentence, but you know what he wanted to say. It brings tears to your eyes, the fact that he hated what you had done to yourself and instead wished it was him—to whom the harm was done.

You let them pour out. You don’t want them smothering you. You want everything out, so you can move on—so both of you can.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. Another Eskimo kiss, a longer one this time. Yoongi sniffles against you and you want to pull out more from him, to rid him completely of those negative feelings. “Like you said, it’s over now.”

Yoongi nods, vulnerably, and you peck him on the mouth. And he’s unable to reciprocate the kiss, for his features twist in another rush of liquid emotions. You stroke the back of his hair, running your fingers down its length, urging softly more out.

“I don’t regret anything,” you continue, pressing your cheek against his tears, letting them seep into your skin. “Even though it hurt, I don’t regret it, Yoongi. Neither should you.”

He sobs and it reverberates through your body. You remain strong. Strong like the mountains. “I hurt him.”

The breath you inhale is knifing you sharply. “He loves you—”

“And I hurt him,” he cuts in, squeezing you against him, needing you. “I didn’t trust a word he said. I didn’t—” he heaves, unable to catch his breath, hiccups. “Because I thought he hurt you, I didn’t hear him out. I didn’t know he helped you.”

“What did he tell you?”

“He told me he didn’t force himself on you, but I didn’t believe him. I gave him so much shit for it, for spanking you. And then he begged me to hit him again.”

The healer deemed it would make Yoongi feel better. Your heart warps.

“Did you?”

“No.”

You kiss his temple and you don’t realize that it’s a silent thanks until you lift your lips, however you’re not thrown off balance. It should be like this. You should feel for both men. You should feel. It makes you a living, breathing human. And Yoongi’s reactions and emotions make him human, too, even if they seem wrong in the moment. It’s not something to hate him or judge him for—it’s something to love him for. He should feel safe. Deserves to.

It’s better than to feel nothing.

And you tell him. A thousand times until he nods, sloshing your words in his mouth before carefully swallowing them, accepting them.

“It’s not a lost cause. You can talk to him. And you can try again.”

Yoongi looks at you as he takes in what you’ve said, as if the concept never crossed his mind—or, if it did, it perhaps seemed too unrealistic to make happen. As if he was doomed for life. As if he lost him forever.

Love is never lost. And you tell him that as well.

Yoongi lights up from within. You wipe away his tears. Brush his hair away from his face. And you give him every last drop of your light, hugging him. And he hugs you back until birds begin to sing in the sky.

It took several weeks for Yoongi to gather courage to call Jungkook. Liquor bottles piled in a row on the balcony and you didn’t count them anymore, you just joined your boyfriend, who had become a frail skeleton, whenever his nerves asked for the burning liquid. Either you would keep him company or you’d bring your own shot glass. And each time, it would end with a subdued, murky therapy session, without the fucking.

Yoongi hasn’t touched you since the afternoon spent in the cabin.

He wasn’t in the mood and you stifled yours. Your body was so accustomed to the daily release of pleasure that because it didn’t have it now all of a sudden, it felt weird—it felt out of place, and you drowned it out with alcohol and smokes, drowned it out with shopping sprees until money ran out and stashes became empty. So you had to settle for your own hand.

And it was easy. You daydreamed about Jungkook. Felt the ghost of his fingers on every sensitive place your hand roamed. On your breast, on your thigh and on your clit, in your entrance. You replayed everything he’d done to you and it didn’t hurt; you didn’t feel shame. You’ve healed to the point that it drenched you, aroused you enough to coax your orgasm out in mere minutes.

And it didn’t feel shameful because Yoongi had told you the reason why he fled the scene.

“You were in pain and I couldn’t stand it. You wouldn’t look at me and if you did, you’d look away as if I had no role in the sex. He took control when it should’ve been me. And I didn’t do anything to stop it.”

It wasn’t about you being so preoccupied in the trance. It was about Jungkook taking charge as if you were his. Which was what led Yoongi to think he forced himself on you in the shower. It was about him being silent and not speaking up, prioritizing your pleasure.

It made sense to you, but you still apologized. For what, you didn’t know. Just felt the need to. And Yoongi made you feel so safe, as safe as you had made him feel that night on the balcony, that you couldn’t help but yap about how enjoyable it was for you—what Jungkook did to you. And Yoongi agreed.

You were content that you’ve moved past the hurt and focused on the real truth beneath, revealing it: you both had enjoyed it when you were pleasured.

You didn’t check if the conversation made him hard, for you ran into your bedroom to relieve yourself of the ache between your legs as fast as possible. But he found you. Watched you. Validated you. Validated your daydreams. Told you what to do as he smoked a cigarette, standing in between your outstretched legs before the bed, the summer wind cooling the sweat on your body. And then he told you to do it again.

And again.

Until he couldn’t pull out any more orgasms out of you.

He became obsessed with it.

Because the next day and the many after that, you did the same thing. He would watch you while you fingered yourself. He’d tell you what he’s doing to you in your daydreams, taking charge of them, what Jungkook is doing to you. Other times he’d jerk off and come all over your tummy and cunt. Still remain hard; still remain needy. He wouldn’t fuck you. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t even insulate it. Wouldn’t slip it inside the dreams. And once his desire would run out of its sweet wine, yours simply wouldn’t. And the more you both indulged in this act, you figured out two things.

One, Yoongi used it as a coping mechanism. As a healing tool to recuperate from the afternoon spent in the cabin, one that would ultimately help him have sex with you in the long run. Two, you were riding the waves of ideas and excitement with no real fulfillment, with no release.

Tasting the picture of the sin at first might have been enough—but the more you did it, the more you wanted to sink your teeth into the real thing.

You wanted Jungkook again.

And like the intelligent man Yoongi is, he figured it out, too.

A certain number of orgasms was an indication of an ending to this playful time. And the last time you did this, Yoongi—at this number—was ready to withdraw and jump into the shower, but you grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Hungry, starved, devouring his neck, grinding your still wet pussy against his softening cock.

He put two and two together. Immediately.

“You’re hungry for what I haven’t given you yet, aren’t you?”

You begged for it, moaning against his artery, reveling in the feeling of his cock against you after such a long time. And when you looked at him, you saw drunkenness seizing his features. Drunkenness without the consumption of alcohol. And you felt the same inebriation enclosing around yours, knowing your desire sparked this inside of him. It felt different. Way, way different.

“Think about how you want it. Make yourself come as many times as you want. And when I come back from the shower, tell me about it. We’ll figure it out; we’ll make it work.”

It grazed your hunger. Squeezed it in such a playful way. Like a human hand squeezing an animal because of the cute-aggression it feels towards it.

You didn’t know how many times you came. You were too lost in the story you constructed, soaking the bed sheets even more than you already had. Your fingers had turned wrinkly by the time you opened your eyes, finished with the plot, to see Yoongi leaning against the doorway to the bedroom, not having the heart to disturb you in your passion.

And while you showered, playing the story in your head over and over, Yoongi cooked you food. Poured you liquid courage. Waited for you at the table, dressed only in a pair of joggers. Chain-smoked, the rule of only smoking on the balcony long forgotten during his process of healing.

When you sat down to eat, you slid your feet across his lap. Lifted your camisole, let him see your bare cunt the way he liked it that one time; the scent of your mango body butter wafting in the air, the sultriness of an August evening carrying that eccentricness right into his senses, readying him for what you were about to tell him.

And you began, casually, with every bite of the delicious food he made you. You got ahead of yourself, though, dumb by the intensity of adrenaline and arousal coursing in your veins. “I want you to dictate every move. And it’s up to you if you let him fuck me or not. My first idea from the start was—”

“I want you to tell me your full fantasy. What you touched yourself to. From the beginning ‘til the end.”

You fixed your mistake quickly.

“I dreamed about him watching us. You gave him rules. No touching. Hands on the armchair I wanted him to sit in. No talking. Then, I began with you letting him see what we’ve been doing. Loudly, vulgarly. Me playing with my pussy while you jerked off until you came all over me. Then you ate me out and wouldn’t stop until I begged you to fuck me. From behind. While you stretched my ass with a butt plug.”

“Did I talk? Like I do normally?”

“Yes. He heard it all. Every word you used. And I wanted you to do it to make him needy. Needy enough to beg you to let him fuck me.”

Yoongi only cursed. And you felt him hardening again under the soles of your feet. You caressed his ache with your toes.

“He thought the butt plug was used to stretch me for him, but it was for my pleasure, for decoration. You only let him pump your cum deeper into me. You didn’t let him come. And you held me from behind. Held me open for him in the air. And then he begged you for mercy. You gave in. Dropped me to the floor. And he fucked me ruthlessly, keeping me still on the floor with his thighs around me. He wasn’t able to last long. Begged you to let him come in me and you did. And then… then he ate me out. And so did you. At the same time. And I came so hard that I squirted. Then we took a shower. All three of us.”

“Did anything happen in the shower?” Quick, hard breaths, as if he was on the verge of an orgasm from your footjob.

And he proved to you, with a groan, that he was when you finished your story and his joggers dampened. “No, you both just held me. And we kissed like crazy.”

And it was this release of cum that drove him to make that phone call.

When Jungkook picks up on the first ring, Yoongi grabs his keys, blows you an air kiss and leaves. The joy that thrums in your heart is unlike any you’ve ever felt. You know where he’s gone. You know it fully well.

And in the meantime, you doll yourself up.

Hours later, he returns. With a grin blossomed on his face, one you haven’t seen since the day at the cabin, and a pink bag in his hand, one he hands you as soon as he takes off his shoes.

Inside you find the butt plug you dreamed of. Silver with a purple faux diamond in the middle. Fairly small, just the kind you’re certain you will be able to take. With a freebie of a much smaller packet of lube. To be safe playing out the fantasy.

Yoongi kisses you so hard when you look up at him that he steals all of your breath, ridding you of your chance to thank him.

“He’s coming over later.”

You kiss him, equally hard. Happy that he’s happy, happy to see movement in his healing journey. You give him tiny kisses, a hundred of them, and he breathes a laugh into your mouth, his joy filling you with energy and exhilaration. Finally, finally, finally—you’ve missed this emotion of his. Glad for the sadness, for the murkiness to be gone.

And you pray nothing gets in the way.

When Jungkook announces his arrival by knocking on the door, the sight you’re met with is quite uncanny. Though your heart isn’t stirred by it, bouncing in your chest like a small child seeing its father after a long, long time.

It’s been almost a month and he’s become older since the last time you saw him. His hair, grown longer and thicker, curls at his temples, ears and the nape of his neck. Round eyes have stayed the same, as well as the glint, and there’s a hint of the same joy that you’ve found in Yoongi, whirling in circles past it. Nose void of any blood, cheekbone healed from bruises. His demeanor is careful as if he had been punished enough by the fight and the silent treatment that followed it, taking off his shoes and his zipper hoodie, revealing a much bigger broadness of shoulders and arms, exposed in a tight fit of a black tank.

While Yoongi drowned his sorrow in alcohol and smokes and then came across his relief, his air in a sexual fantasy with his friend involved, he—the said friend—clearly found his coping mechanism in the gym.

He’s huge. As if he hadn’t already been from the military.

You lick your lips at him, and it’s such a natural reaction that you don’t even think about what you’ve done until you perceive that he doesn’t look at you at all. And it turns you on. It turns you on that he’s holding himself back from you. You know what hides beneath, what comes out when he lets go of his good boy persona.

Glancing at Yoongi, he’s already smirking at you with a playful gaze. Affected by his ignoring of you just the same. The shared connection thickens the energy around, but Jungkook breaks it.

He breaks it once he lifts his head, hangs his hoodie on the back of a chair and envelops you in a hug. Defaces your evident tendency to view him as an object, scribbles it in slashes until the ink runs out. All by a few strokes of his hand down your hair, down your back clothed in a new silky robe.

And when he withdraws from the hug, you see the healer that helped you become the person Yoongi needed on his journey.

His somber eyes skim over the long length of your nighttime attire, as if lamenting over the fact it’s not the red one. Over its dusty-pink color that parts the fabric to reveal your smooth leg and your toes. And then he’s gone, pulling your boyfriend in the same hug that lasts a bit longer, uttering silent words that should’ve been said that afternoon at the cabin with each increase of squeezes and pats within the hold.

You know they’ve said what they needed to hear during the phone call to mend what’s been broken. You feel a certain proudness of Yoongi for managing so well, for being at this very part of the journey. It’s praiseworthy.

“You hungry?”

Jungkook looks at you at last, imaginary puppy ears perking up at your question. And his eyes soften, wet with emotion from the reunion. He rubs his belly. “Starving.”

You shuffle your feet to make your way into the kitchen, but Yoongi beats you to it. Wave a hand towards the table, inviting him to sit and, out of habit, you pour some liquid courage into a shot glass for him from the bottle you keep there instead of a vase filled with flowers.

He merely glances at it. Doesn’t drink it.

“How have you been?” you ask, screwing the lid back on, not being able to take your eyes off of him—your entire history faintly blanketing your sight.

And he deepens the eye contact.

“How do you like your butt plug?”

Taken aback, you laugh, the atmosphere so airy all of a sudden that your cheeks flush and your lungs heave with affability. This is the friendship you had begged the heavens for. Without strings, without pain. Light-natured friendship, with flirtation in the middle. You find it hard to believe you have it. Find it hard to believe he’s here.

Find it hard to believe that when you had told Yoongi he could try again, he took your words and created this, embedding it into your fate.

“It’s pretty,” you say, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. Jungkook smiles, fondly, fingers wrapping around the shot. You’re reminded, momentarily, of the way he teased you with the foot of his wine glass on your first dinner date.

As if thinking about that night, too, his other fingers sneak to your bare knee, tapping it once. “We picked it for you.”

You nod in feigned, exaggerated gratitude, even though you mean it, even though the thought of them choosing a sex toy for you makes you burst into flames from within. “Thank you, Oppa. Thank you so much. I will use it well.” And you bow to him with each word in your seat next to him.

Jungkook laughs and it’s such a sweet sound that you feel unfamiliar flowers growing in you, laughing along with him. He lays his palm flat on the entirety of your knee. Heavy, strong, warm. Then, he widens his eyes, as if he only now realized what you’ve called him. “You’re younger than me?”

You’ve guessed he was older than you. “I was born in 1999. I take it you’re around the same age as Yoongi?”

Not the same, entirely. You recall him calling Yoongi ‘hyung’. He must be a year or a few years younger.

That tenderness you know flashes in his face. “I was born in 1997. Yoongi is older than me.”

Your mouth opens in the shape of ‘O’. Jungkook’s eyes flick to it before he averts them, slapping the side of your thigh gently, sighing as if he held his breath the entire time. Only then does he down the shot you poured him, keeping his hand there.

Such a blessing, the simple act of getting to know him.

He slouches in his seat and you ask him again. “How have you been?”

Smacking his mouth, he roams his gaze along the perimeters of the dinner table. And you realize he’s avoiding the question. Avoided it the first time you launched it at him, too.

You fold your fingers under his palm on your knee, signaling your understanding and sympathy. Don’t want to think about the healing journey he had to walk through by himself. He’s reached the end and that’s the most important thing as of now. You caress his reddened, tattooed knuckles, smeared with flecks of violet and yellow—much like your bum that one afternoon—with your thumb, wondering how that tinge came to live there. “What happened to your hand?”

Jungkook contemplates your study of his hand, stoically, still as ever. Then, his mouth rounds, barely, in a tiny suggestion of sadness. Your heart catches it before it disappears, making it hers. In such a swift moment that you don’t realize what you’ve done.

“Boxing,” he murmurs, eyeing the way your hand is enclosed around his large palm, the way your thumb hovers over his knuckles, as if afraid to cause them any more pain. Seems touched by it and your brows knit, your heart speaking to you, telling you something, urgently, but you don’t understand her.

“You don’t wear boxing gloves?”

Jungkook shakes his head ‘no’. “Didn’t want to.”

And then it hits you—the language of your heart unfolding within you, deciphered at last. It hits you how you and him are very much alike.

This is his coping mechanism. Hurting his hand as he lets out his negative emotions. Knowing, just like you, that the pain is the gain, the relief. And by the state of the bruises, you were wrong. He’s not at the end of his healing journey—and he’s nowhere near the beginning. He traipses around it, steering clear of it, ignoring it.

Your lungs swell. And that motherly impulse you’re familiar with croons around them, extends towards him with the dutiful intention to heal.

And you will.

You will heal both of the males.

And the decision is strengthened even more in you when Jungkook hears Yoongi’s footsteps and startles, extracting his hand from your hold, from your thigh. Like he startled upon hearing your movement back then, scurrying towards your bag as if you were intending to leave him, abandon him.

It is your heart that weeps now for him, not your eyes, remembering the words Yoongi uttered over his bruised cheek and bloody nose. Only over my dead body will you lay a finger on her again. You try your hardest to remain strong on the outside. For him, for Yoongi, for yourself. You try your hardest to forget that declaration, that physical pain of his, considering it over—long gone, a lifetime away.

And when your boyfriend sets the full plates of food in front of him and he digs in wordlessly, you watch him. With a landslide in your insides. With a hand on his muscled arm, stroking back and forth, eyes flicked momentarily to Yoongi, willing him to see how broken his friend is.

But Yoongi can’t bear to see it.

He settles for a drink instead, fixing his gaze on the table. Takes a step back on his journey, his nerves pursuing him. And so he’s not alone, because it is your duty, you follow him into that rabbit hole like the Alice you are. With empty hands, void of any control, despite the onus you own in your heart.

By the time sex is even mentioned between the three of you, you’re tipsy and your head is swimming.

You’re conscious, aware of your body, aware of your surroundings and your home. Aware that you’re intoxicated, too, and it’s a peculiar feeling—to be present in your body and out of it just the same. And you owe it to the males sitting around the table. To the owner of the house, mainly.

Yoongi has taken such a dominant role naturally that he’s the reason why your head is taking laps in his energy. And it was him who put the topic of sex to the front after double meanings found their way into the gradually unfurling conversation, imbued with exuberance. Asked Jungkook straight away if he’d been sexually active with people after you, to which he merely shook his head ‘no’, too vulnerable to express it in his own words. You don’t think Yoongi even realized the gravity of the question, influenced by the alcohol, the lighthearted energy and the fact that he got his friend back. And Yoongi… he praised him for it, making his head lift in disbelief and coyness. You saw the way it healed him, brought color to his face— it happened so quickly, too quickly, Yoongi turning the leaf over right after, seamlessly leading the conversation back to the double meanings, working them up until you and Jungkook blushed.

But you didn’t listen entirely, and neither did Jungkook. You surveyed the way he turned the praise over in his mind, dwelling on it. And you knew, without a doubt, that, besides healing him—undoing the ugly words flung at him that day, it turned him on. He played with his bracelet in the air, a faint smile on his mouth, legs outstretched, touching yours, and you… you wanted to play with him, too. Your body begged you for it, telling you it’s time.

In fact, you knew very well what the little bit of alcohol Yoongi drank was doing to him. Much like Jungkook, it helped him avoid the matter of his friend’s sensitive burden at hand while collecting information. Especially about where he stands in the realm of the three of you and sex. And while you’ve let him do it, thinking it was something he needed to do on his journey, you've also been deciding for the last half an hour when it was time to put a stop to it. The sexual comments, the double meanings—it became too much, became too obvious, even though he, in most probability, wasn’t even aware of it, was doing it for you unconsciously. And your body agreed, whispering to you that the only way you could do that was to take advantage of what was right before you.

You were going to outrun your boyfriend and seduce them both.

You light up a cigarette, bringing Yoongi’s attention to you. You graze your foot on his shin as you cross your legs, lifting it higher until you reach his thigh. And when you take a long drag, you skim your hand on Jungkook’s knee, briefly—calling for his attention, too, preparing him. Your toe feels up Yoongi’s soft manhood and he stops talking, your hand trailing along the side of Jungkook’s thigh, inches away from his intimate parts. They let you touch them, both heads turned in your direction.

Stillness, arousing stillness. You smile, innocently.

Before Yoongi has the chance to scold you for interrupting him, you withdraw. You withdraw entirely. Pretend to take your cigarette to the balcony. Jungkook lifts his hand to grab yours, to put it back where it was, but you’re gone before you could take him up on it.

You feel both of them watching you as you leave. You sway your hips a little. It makes you chuckle. Makes you feel invincible.

You stay there but for a mere moment. Don’t even finish your cigarette before you put it out in the ashtray. And when you return, you undo the knot while they are preoccupied, unaware of you. Uncover the outfit you spent your money on while Yoongi healed.

A sheer, black crop top, with polka dots and puffed sleeves, that ties in the middle, ending beneath your breasts and adding nothing to the imagination. Could be mistaken for a wireless bra. Panties of the same tulle material with frills on the side. You leave your robe undone, the act of revealing yourself so casually stiffening your nipples. You consider taking a seat as if you did no such thing, but an idea pulls you to your boyfriend, who��s ignorant to your scheme, listening to something that Jungkook is telling him.

You don’t grasp any of the words coming out of his mouth, however you do focus on the deep intonation of his voice. Let it curl beneath your skin; propel you to act out on your whim.

You take a seat on Yoongi’s lap. Jungkook’s gaze falls on your intimate form, bare under the almost translucent fabric, and he parts his lips. He watches as Yoongi wraps an arm around your middle and smiles at the feeling of your bare skin. You rock your hips once, backwards, pretending you’re shifting to make yourself comfortable and Yoongi grips your waist until his fingers turn white. Jungkook doesn’t stop talking, hides his astonishment at your behavior, at your boldness. Doesn’t stop looking at you and neither do you at him, nodding to every other word as if you were listening. That is until you grab a handful of cheese balls and pop one by one into your mouth, purposefully letting one of them fall into your cleavage.

“Can you get it for me? My hands are full.”

You have a perfectly free hand by your side.

You’ve interrupted him so rudely that you’re surprised that he doesn’t frown at you, but smirks instead. Yoongi caresses your thigh, validating you, catching onto your scheme, and it spreads the fire that burst in you hours ago, making it bigger, hotter.

It’s time. You want both of them, badly.

You lean forward for him, fingers ready for the next move you’re planning. Jungkook lifts a hand, reaches for the orange treat in the middle of your breasts and before his digits have the time to grasp it, you pull on the loose knot on your top, your flesh spilling, the treat slipping onto the floor.

He only chuckles, deeply. Teased, but pleased.

“Oh, no.” Fake pity; fake pout. You look at the cheese ball, then back at Jungkook. Your impishness reflects in the blazing fire of his eyes, the same one that courses through your body. “I guess I didn’t tie it properly. Can you do it for me? My hand is dirty.”

You eat the last remaining cheese balls while staring him dead in the eye. Show him your orange-tinted fingers once you’re done. A spark flashes in the fire; piques his interest.

Leaning forward even more, Yoongi uses your position to slide your robe down your shoulders. Lifts you for a second to rid you completely of it, setting you back down sharply, causing your breasts to bounce. Throws it on Jungkook’s lap. A gesture that tells him playtime has begun. He sucks in a breath, biting his bottom lip, the way Yoongi gathers your hair in his fist stealing his attention fleetingly from you, fingers clutching the fabric.

And when he takes the swinging laces in his hands and barely tightens them, you click your tongue, disapprovingly. “Tighter.”

It arouses the beast in him, eyes lidding ever so slightly. He pulls on the laces until your breasts are squished together. “Like this?”

You wet your lips before you quirk them up. “Yes. Make a bow for me.”

Jungkook deepens the eye contact as he obeys. You lift your chin, asserting Yoongi’s dominance, taking after him, the inkling to own that beast in him absorbing you whole.

And you shall.

When he’s finished with the bow, he grazes the material of your top, fingers flat against your nipples before he slouches back in his chair. The touch was too brief for your liking, yet it spurs your cunt to soak your panties, the notion that you’ve done it intoxicating your senses—you’ve seduced him.

You mimic what he did, theatrically—you slouch back into Yoongi’s chest, turn your chin to the side to tell on him. “Yoongi, he touched me.”

Yoongi only smirks, playing along. “Did he? How? Show me.”

Your fingers fly to your pebbled nipples, stroking them in downward motion like he did before you repeat it. Again and again. Your hips begin to slowly rotate, your body reacting to your touch, to the pleasure you’re giving it. “Like this.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat. He spreads his legs. You do, too. And when you whimper, he twitches, your robe slipping onto the ground, joining the cheese ball.

“Did it feel good? When he touched you there?” Yoongi asks, hands spreading across your thighs. You make a noise of agreement, whining into it. “Does it feel as good now?”

You shake your head ‘no’, meaning it. “No, it makes me needy.”

Yoongi hums. “Where?”

You cup the soaked material of your panties, right over your cunt with one hand, while the other squeezes your breast. “Here.”

Your boyfriend opens your legs wider, as if to take a closer look at what body part you’re showing him. “You should do something about that, shouldn’t you?”

“Like what?”

“Touch yourself.”

Jungkook stills. Doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t blink. Neither do you.

“How?”

“I don’t know, maybe I should ask him,” he mumbles, fingers playing with the frills on your hips. “Do you want me to ask him?”

The asking of consent, beckoning out your slick. You nod your head. “Ask him, please, I can’t take it anymore.”

Jungkook’s mouth is parted in an enigmatic manner, waiting—waiting to be given what your boyfriend long teased him with. And you like the suspense, the tension pulled so taut, the process before he’s gratified. It makes you even needier and, like Jungkook, you clutch the fabric of your panties in impatience.

Yoongi doesn’t ask right away. He tortures Jungkook until his lips lose their moisture. Dry, like a withered flower asking for the tiniest raindrop to refresh. And you want to give it to him. You’re leaking so much dewiness it is only right that he could get to drink it. You tuck that thought into your heart.

Yoongi hooks his thumbs under the waistband of your panties and slowly, like your robe, drags them down as far as he can reach. Then, he lets them pool by your knees. “Take them off of her,” he commands in a hushed tone, fingers drifting to your waist, stopping by your mound and your stomach on the way. And it isn’t until Jungkook rids you fully of the wet undergarment that he finally asks: “How should she touch herself?”

Jungkook crumples it in his fist, tightly enough that white comes into view across his colorful knuckles upon the denim of his jeans. And among other things, his breath hardens. Gazes into your eyes as he says to Yoongi, “Tell her to lift her legs, lick her fingers and rub her princess parts until it feels good.”

He’s tuned in into the role-play. You think about how you wanted to turn off your brain for him when he had told you to not think that he’d ever get sick of you. How you wanted to keep it stupid for him.

You know that if you were to do that, if you were to let go—that he’d put you under his spell again, but you’re not letting that cave in on you. Because when Yoongi imparts the instructions to you and you lift your leg, propping your foot on Jungkook’s thigh, saliva-coated fingers finding your clit, you feel a sliver of something indescribably exhilarating.

Jungkook moans at the first few careful circles. And it’s him who becomes hypnotized.

It’s your green light to play the role of a stupid, innocent girl—in the hands of two very experienced, aroused men. Seduced, more like. You pat yourself on the back, mentally.

And the proud feeling of your achievement, the feeling of his vigorous and ardent observance of your pleasured cunt, of the tendril of the profound reminiscence that sweeps in as if he truly missed the sight of her—it all incites you to speed up your movement. To consciously immerse yourself deeper in the role, in the pretending. You figure it should work like this; you won’t get submerged in the water of the hypnosis if you remain in control, clinging to it with all your might. Not if Jungkook is the one spellbound this time.

You feel your orgasm drawing closer at that thought, breathing against your body.

“Am I doing it right?”

Jungkook sneaks a hand around your ankle, hard breaths puffing out of his still parted mouth, cheeks full of vibrant color, eyes dazed—so awfully dazed and fixed on your cunt, on the sheen of your arousal splattered on your folds. Then, he licks his lips, slouches further in his seat after he moves his chair to be more in line with you. Horny, curious puppy, needing to see the full view; your work of art. Yoongi’s soft chuckle rumbles against your scalp and you realize he’s been watching him this entire time, studying him—assessing the situation meticulously.

“Is she doing it right?” Yoongi asks and you can hear the smirk coating his voice. Jungkook’s other hand, with the panties still clutched, wraps around his hard length, brows furrowing and you whine at the sight, but Yoongi tuts, disapproving. “No touching.”

Jungkook lifts his hand and so do you—to stall your orgasm, the principle of Jungkook obeying so easily almost throwing you over the edge. You breathe heavily, a tingly sensation swarming within your skin, a certain string of words rising on your tongue.

You turn your head towards Yoongi. Dart out your tongue to lick swiftly at his bottom lip before you kiss him. Yoongi hums, pleased. “Tell him he’s a good boy.”

Another similar sound, one that makes you smile. You drift a hand towards the back of his head, fingers sinking into the dark length of his hair. Yoongi purrs, blinking down at you like rose petals fluttering—you feel as though you were at the very beginning, living through the moment you learned Jungkook’s name, as if no pain, no murkiness never settled upon the three of you. You don’t know how it makes you feel and you hardly want to decipher it; you gravitate towards enjoying yourself more, thoughts and feelings pushed to the side.

“He is, isn’t he?” Yoongi murmurs, taking your arm gently in his hand and joining it to your other one around the back of his head, then he roams his back, takes his time, until he plants it upon your cunt. You spasm at the long-awaited contact. “He listens well. So out of it, the poor thing forgot to speak. Maybe we should help him with that, don’t you think?” Poor thing. Your hole clenches, drooling with your dewiness and you groan, the aspect of Jungkook being degraded like this, after he dominated both of you the last time, making you utterly, utterly feral.

At your noise, Yoongi begins to play with your slippery folds, pressing them together with his fingers flat on each side—not touching your pussy, but pleasuring her nonetheless. You give him more at each squeeze he bestows on your clit, elated that he’s touching her after such a long time, elated that he’s able to.

It is, undeniably, working like this. Your heart thrums with elation. Happy it has come to this, happy it’s different this time—happy that both parties are happy.

Not wishing to lose the momentum, you gaze at Jungkook. At the light cascading dimly from his lip ring—that pink, puffy, dry mouth that you long to kiss, that you long to feel on your bundle of nerves. His eyes seem to grow in size at your attention and you’re so touched to witness something like that. You need to ride his face; you need to watch those eyes roll back. You can see his need to take charge, to tell both of you what to do by his irregular breaths, clenched fists and bulging muscles, veins so prominent that you do well not staring at them at all—but he subdues that need, perhaps for you, perhaps for Yoongi. Both possibilities graze your feelings with such fondness that he’s putting himself last, prioritizing the hard truth: you’re not his, not in the sexual ambiance of your time spent together, not even in the lasciviousness of your daydreams.

You’re Yoongi’s and he’s the boss, one he should’ve been since the beginning. And that’s the core of the difference. The key that makes this work.

Covering your mouth, you spill your idea of how you should help Jungkook speak into Yoongi’s ear while keeping your eyes on his round ones. He aches to be let in on it, to know, but you don’t allow him that satisfaction. In fact, when you beam at Yoongi once you withdraw, it’s more of a provocation directed towards the puppy than an expression of your true joy.

“Yes, fuck yes,” Yoongi agrees, orbs aglow by the idea, by something that you can only pin down to a feeling of safety within the environment. He feels safe. Feels comfortable. Feels okay—more than okay by the hardening length against your bum, by the moonbeams flecking across his irises, by the extension of his index finger to your clit, which makes you freeze, stop breathing altogether. “But I want to make you come first. Can I?”

You peck him, deeply, to seal that package of positive feelings in him, to seal that sense of safety and comfort. Nod a million times. “Yes, please, baby. I need it.”

Yoongi coos at the pet name, at your willing submissiveness to him and expression of neediness. Nudges his nose against yours. “Need what?”

You giggle softly. Happy, so awfully happy. “I need you to make me come,” you say, but your words are muffled by the way he skims his mouth over yours, and you don’t think over the next words directed to the other male that tumble out of you. “You want to watch?”

A stupid, stupid question because he’s been watching this entire time, although it breaks something. Breaks the invisible wall between you, Yoongi and him—breaks his coyness as he sets your foot down and leans forward, smiling fondly. “I’d be happy to watch. Honored.”

It breaks the unspoken, unseen tension. Breaks the past. Breaks the hurt. And the difference, now validated, made beautiful by his smile, sinks in, spreads across the atmosphere surrounded by the three of you. The sense of safety and comfort now sails over into Jungkook’s pores, slipping inside. And you could burst now. Burst with your joy.

The afternoon spent in the cabin dissolves.

You didn’t expect that to happen.

Yoongi feels it—and you feel him feel it by the trembling breaths he takes against your back. And even though you went into the rabbit hole with him with empty hands, now you hold healing in them. A warm round body of light, heavy and thick, ready for them both. Yoongi might have talked Jungkook’s head off and drank until his nerves eased and was able to escape them, but now he’s eligible to take the light. Jungkook is, too, now that he’s given you his consent for the dynamic to be different. A certain kind of glorious satisfaction envelops you in glow, ridding you of any intoxication and you’re bare. Vulnerable, horny and so tremendously bright. Filled with flowers, filled with love, filled with a delicious, selfish taste of control.

You want to kiss Jungkook, but you recognize right away that there’s a time and a place for that, one that is not appropriate now. You stifle your craving, wiggle your hips to let Yoongi know you want him to begin.

You brim with the need to forget now and just enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself at the hands of your long-awaited desire, now boundless, now right, now different. And you break the crumbles of the wall, the hurt and the past when you tell them. “I want us to forget about the last time and enjoy where we are right now. Can we do that?”

Although you don’t know the contents of the long conversation they had in private about this, you’re glad you’ve said it out loud. Glad it’s out of your chest. Glad for the kiss Yoongi plants on your temple. Glad for Jungkook’s hand encasing yours. Even if that’s the only way they communicate their agreement.

Out with the old, in with the new.

And Jungkook keeps holding your hand when Yoongi begins to rub your clit. He tightens his hold, in fact, at the first twist of your features, at the relief intermingling, despite the fact he knows nothing about how this is the first time Yoongi touched you like this since forever ago. His hand feels much more different than yours, much more nimble and much quicker. And the pleasure that floods your body is more about that than it is about the stimulation. A wish pricks at you, a wish to tell him, but you don’t let it get near you, not when you know the time for that is long, long gone, not when forgetting is supposed to take place now because the new is here.

You push those thoughts entirely away. The thoughts of there being a certain forever ago, a certain past along with it, too.

And then Yoongi hums and the sound sweeps it far, far away from you.

He pinches your nipple. Finds it’s not enough and forces your top open, undoing the bow, baring you to his and Jungkook’s eyes. Joins his other hand to knead both of your full breasts, but you whine, needing him elsewhere. Yoongi chuckles, listening to you—drifting his hand immediately back down to your clit, resuming his swift circles.

Jungkook salivates. Makes no indication of being in demand of participation. Merely wipes at the corners of his mouth while his other hand squeezes yours in a tight, clammy hold. Light protrudes from his eyes, akin to the one you still own, cooling the sweat layering upon your body. No darkness of arousal, none whatsoever, only the chocolate brown of his irises, vibrant, mesmerized and absolutely affectionate.

Newness, you breathe it in and exhale a moan. Yoongi changes direction. Moves from circles to side to side, angling your body so he can give it his all. You feel the incoming pressure of your orgasm and you ready yourself for it, squeezing your eyes shut. And when he decides to alternate, so quickly that you lose track of it, it is your ultimate undoing.

Mainly when Yoongi curtly slaps your clit, transferring you back to the very beginning of your story, rooting you there. You come so hard that you fall apart.

Tears fly out of you, but you laugh—and the sound is broken by a deep moan from your chest caused by pure, boundless euphoria. Yoongi prolongs your orgasm, keeps strumming your clit, purring onto your mouth and you open your eyes to witness his devotion to it, to your pleasure. Brows furrowed, eyes lidded, pouty mouth. Adamant on making you feel as good as—

It triggers another orgasm. A softer, mellow one. And the string of noises you let out are of the same dulcet nature. Yoongi swallows them, groaning, fondling your pussy, patting her gently, making you tremble, woozy, giddy and so incredibly girly.

“That was so good,” he whispers, caressing you everywhere and you nod, a million times. You’ve missed him, terribly.

You give him a nasty kiss full of tongue, aware of what’s happened and of what’s next just the same.

Yoongi perches on the floor, knees on either side of yours as you crawl towards Jungkook’s lap. He leans back, a surprised grin appearing on his flustered face. And it hits him like a ton of bricks when you pop his button open and drag down the zipper of his jeans. Your words that follow, too.

“Off. Everything.”

“You want to suck me off?” A calm bewilderment coats his voice, such a heavy oxymoron for him to bear when he was fine with just watching.

You smile at him briefly before you wet your lips, eager to make happen what he can’t believe you’re willing to do for him. “I knew it would get you talking.”

An airy laugh. So endearing to your hearing sense. He cradles your chin for a mere beat of time. “You’re so smart.” He takes off his tank, revealing his enormous pecs adorned with a long but dainty silver chain that you crave to have swinging in your face, that steals your attention from the dose of validation he gave you.

But when Yoongi leaves, your heart sinks in panic.

Only to hoist it back up when you realize he went to fetch the gift he bought you, along with a bigger tube of lube from your bedroom. Your body tremors and it’s both of the males that try to alleviate it. Yoongi, who settles back behind you, fondling the skin of your bare bum. Jungkook, who turns you to look at him, nodding once to let you know everything’s okay.

You release a breath, but you can’t hide the shakes.

Jungkook strokes your brow. A tender touch that drives you to believe him. Yes, everything’s okay. The past is gone. Healing is contained in the conscious reminders. The light in your hands flutters, calling out to you, and you press it over that heft of your wandering heart.

It’s you who alleviates the tremors.

And when you take off your top, Jungkook follows suit, ridding himself of his jeans.

To distract your mind from hurling false thoughts at you, you finally allow yourself to look at his hard length—still, disappointingly clothed. Thick. You can almost feel the memory of him, the heaviness of him, when he had you pressed against him by the pond. The first time you touched him. You groan, softly. “Off.”

Jungkook coos, patting you on the cheek with his finger. “So eager.”

He paints a smile on your face with that brush of his digit. “Be a good boy and listen.”

Without taking his eyes off of you, he swears. Pulls his manhood out, tugs his boxers a few inches down and you bite back a gasp, a moan and something in between. Red, swollen tip, the petal of a sun-kissed rose, little thick veins enveloping the girth. He keeps his balls covered to tease you. “Like this, Mommy?”

You glare at him and it’s Yoongi’s second-hand embarrassment laughter that smooths out your features, contagious to such a great extent that when you look back at him to see him pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes squeezed and crinkly, you burst into the same laughter, lungs expanding, exhaling all that heft and momentary residue of panic until there’s nothing negative left.

It even radiates Jungkook. He laughs so much that his cock bounces, which deepens your giggles and you hide your face in your hands.

And when the conveyance of joy simmers, another tender tears rush out of your tear ducts. Good tears. You’re so content with life shared with the two males that you can’t help but be emotional. You shield those tears behind the premise of your laughter. They’re private—just yours. The final conclusion of the dark side.

Yoongi skims his fingers across your tiny hole. Back to business.

You tug Jungkook’s boxers all the way down and you lift his ankle to rid him completely of them. Mimic the way he did it to you. You even think about keeping them. Think about how this is exactly how it should be—recollecting only the good parts of the story, the light side while letting the dark one go. Jungkook sees it on your face and he lets you decide.

You don’t have to think twice.

You fling his underwear on the chair you sat on. Jungkook caresses your hair in response and you smile at him. Yoongi leans over you, fists your hair and pushes you toward Jungkook’s cock. At the sight, the puppy swears.

“Spit on it. Make it nice and wet for him,” Yoongi orders and there’s slyness to your ever persisting smile when you gather your saliva and do exactly as he says.

At the first contact of your liquid love, Jungkook swears again and there’s no stopping to that litany of vulgar words when you, just like him, swirl it around the top of his head with the tip of your tongue without taking your gaze off of him. It’s at this movement of yours that a flashback gleams across his still round, tender eyes for a split second. Now he remembers, now you’ve pulled him back to the place you didn’t even realize that you did.

Yoongi guides you to wrap your mouth around him and Jungkook loses it.

The suction of your cheeks, the eye contact, the warmth of your mouth and the wetness of your tongue, Jungkook rolls his eyes back before he whisks them back to you, not able to miss one moment of the pleasure you give him. Yoongi pushes your head back and forth and when it dawns upon you that there’s nothing else for you to do but to keep your mouth open while Yoongi does all the work, you moan. And like Jungkook, you can’t stop.

You feel Yoongi’s lips at your ear. “You think you can take him all the way?”

The mewl that comes out of you is the only agreement you can manage to give him. Yoongi groans, kissing your earlobe before he licks it, nibbles on it, taking his mouth to the skin beneath, causing your eyes to narrow. Your pussy drenches, throbs and your hand automatically flies to her. You rub yourself slowly to gain a hint of relief, bobbing your head up and down, tongue feeling up the thick veins along his girth and you whine so desperately—enough for Yoongi to check what was the cause of it.

He draws back. Finds you touching yourself. Clicks his tongue and chuckles in absolute appreciation. He likes what he sees. Pushes your head until your nose swipes past Jungkook’s minimal pubic hair and only when you gag does he let you breathe—does he let you play with his tip on your own. “Mommy is playing with her needy cunt.”

The curse word that wafts in the air is singular, coming out of your and Jungkook’s mouth simultaneously. There’s no laughter this time. Just thick arousal spreading across the room, dizzying all of your senses. Jungkook is breathless and the look you share is desperate, unspoken but so, so vivid. You take him in your free hand and jerk him off, reveling in the feeling of his veins. You give him all of your whiny moans, straightening up, your fingers sneaking to your hole. Eyes narrowing, mouth open, the sounds of your slick saliva in your tight grasp so obscene, so stimulating that when you begin to finger yourself and Yoongi latches his lips onto your neck, you know you’ll be coming in mere, pathetic minutes.

Jungkook leans forward a little bit to watch you stuffing yourself full. Bites his lip, closes his eyes when you tighten your grip around his head. And you do it again and again to coax his moans and he willingly supplies you with them. Opens his eyes and the look he gives you stops time. “So good. So fucking good.”

You yearn to kiss him and he does, too. You twist your wrist and he loses himself for a moment. That alone speeds up the coming of your orgasm. Your body flares with heat, your fingers picking up their speed instinctually and Jungkook angles his head to kiss you—

You push him back. To tease him, to make him more desperate because it pleases you and Jungkook smirks at you, gripping your panties in his fist. Hiding your own, you lick him all over and get to the undiscovered part you want the most.

You mouth his full balls. Whimper against them. Hot flashes fill your sight at the scent of him, even more so when Jungkook inhales your sounds and emits the same ones. “Fuck, sweetheart, oh fuck, yes, like that.” Takes your hand and busies it, wrapping it around his length. You spasm at the pet name, at the warmth that seeps into your skin from him.

It’s him who guides you now. Yoongi merely watches, in awe, wet fingers rubbing circles on your tiny hole, preparing you. “That’s it, honey, make him come.”

You’re so overwhelmed by your task that you withdraw your fingers from your heat, though Yoongi is quick to replace his. And the speed he establishes, you mimic it on Jungkook’s length and he grunts at the contact of your dewiness on him. You twists your wrists, fucking yourself back on Yoongi’s fingers. Bore your gaze into Jungkook’s. Hard, hard breaths, quickening lifts of his chest, he struggles to reciprocate your eye contact, the rhythm so beautiful so seamless, working so well.

And when you wrap your lips around him and suck him with fast bobs, he comes.

You open your mouth, yearning to feel him paint your face. Quick to grip his balls to feel them emptying out for you and you milk his cum out of him, jerking him off until his ropes smear on the corners of your lips, hot and thick. Yoongi pulls out his fingers, latches them onto your hip. “Stick out your tongue.”

You do as he says, in time to catch the last rope landing onto the muscle. You hum, swallowing, watching the tension screwing his features and the relief unweaving it as his orgasm reaches the end. Winded, dumbfounded, gruntled. A lovely sight to behold.

Jungkook’s grip loosens on your panties. And with his other hand, he feeds you his cum. Swipes his fingers from your cheek onto your mouth, plunging it inside. Yoongi kisses the side of your face, gripping your neck to hold your head steady for Jungkook, allowing him to finish the job.

You swallow everything, the taste of him suffused with mild earthiness, with tanginess and the tiniest hint of sweetness. Liquid candy, just for you. You allow him to see how much you enjoyed that, but it’s Yoongi first to whom you show that you’ve swallowed everything.

Your boyfriend beams at you. “Well done, honey.” He kisses you hard, licking into your mouth, and the thought of him tasting the residue of Jungkook numbs your senses entirely. “You did so well.”

You’re panting when he withdraws and when you look at Jungkook, there’s a moment of stillness when you take in the thundering turmoil rushing inside him. You don’t have to guess what’s behind it. Jungkook voices it. “Let me kiss her, please.”

Such a soft murmur, charged with so much desperation. You break at the sound of it, gripping his hand, furrowing your brows, ready to give him anything he wants, boundlessly. Your heart thuds and it only takes one look at Yoongi and he folds, too.

Nods.

You thought he’d kiss you from the position you’re in, but Jungkook stands to his feet, grabbing you along with him, picking you up like a child by sliding his hands under your armpits. And when he presses you against him and kisses you hungrily with fast pecks, breathing hard, you discern how illogical it was for him to call you Mommy.

Even though he can listen like a good boy, it’s merely a role, one he plays for you, for Yoongi, one that fragments with each kiss. Who he truly is the reversal of it.

He’s Daddy. Undeniably.

You’ve never been keen for titles. You and Yoongi never used them, never felt the need for it, hence why you both laughed when it came up. But the more you kiss him, the more you sense it. The awakening dominance, the tendril of fatherliness that spirals around you, the deserved respect he emanates. It turns you on to the point that you find yourself wondering what else is there beneath the shadows of your undiscovered sexuality.

The feeling of his warm skin against yours, his still hard manhood against your stomach, the provocation of the lip ring, the softness of his mouth slowing down and prolonging the kiss—fuck. How much more can you possibly get aroused? He empties out your brain, but you’re calm, not panicked by it at all. And to stay conscious, to stay in control, you wrap your hand around him again.

He hisses, breaking the kiss, grasping your hand. “Too sensitive. Sorry. I came so hard.”

You coo, pecking him deeply, squeezing his broad shoulders. “It’s okay.”

When you turn around to give your attention to Yoongi, you find him deep in thought, fixed on Jungkook. “Remember how she came when you kissed her? At the cabin?”

Your heart speeds up. Not due to fear or anything of the sort, but due to excitement. You know where he’s heading with this.

“Hard to forget,” Jungkook murmurs and it thrums beneath your skin, spreading wide.

“She came multiple times when I made her think about that,” Yoongi starts and you can’t halt the smile growing on your lips. A tiny whirl of shyness mingles with the words coursing through your bloodstream. “It’s what we did. I made her imagine that you were kissing her, eating her out while she touched herself. And now I want you to give it to her. Give it to her good. Better than she was able to imagine.”

Sharp inhale of breath. You want to see his reaction to your secret—but then hands. Clammy hands on your hips, nose nuzzling in your hair. “Who’s gonna be in control when I do that?”

Your eyes widen, pulse quickening to the point that it troubles you.

And Yoongi looks at you when he answers his question, “You. It’s me who’s gonna watch now.”

BACK to masterlist / READ part one, READ part two

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot #yoongi smut #yoongi x oc #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine

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oliviablancmom · 2 months

Text

"Pedriiii - Part II"

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x singlemom!Oc

Theme: fluff, angst

N/A: And here is part two, I hope it lives up to your expectations. I would like to thank each like, comment, reblog, and ask about this imagine. I'm happy that you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I love seeing your reactions. Again, this chapter turned out huge, but I needed every part to make sense. I hope you enjoy it and fall a little more in love with these three.

Warnings: Men being inconvenient in this chapter, people making a child cry.

Pedri was in a mood; he was training alone in the academy because Gavi did him a favor by opening up to the entire team about his meeting with the woman from the nightclub, who turns out to work for Barça. And now all of the guys were messing with him, especially after Gavi spilled about the ring that was shining on her finger. Seriously, Gavi needs to return playing ASAP because Pedri can't deal anymore with the boy gossip phase.

"Are you sad today?" The little boy asked the player, taking his attention from the movie he was watching on his iPad. "I can bring M&Ms for us; Mom put some packages in her purse, I think she's sad too," he says pouting.

"I'm fine, buddy, just focused. But why is your mother sad? Did something happen?" Pedri asked curiously. In one of the many conversations he had with the little boy, he discovered that the little boy's mother worked for the team, but Pedri hadn't had the opportunity to meet her yet.

"I don't know; Father is supposed to take me this week. Then he screams at her and then at me, and they fight." Pedri swallows the knot in his throat as he sees the little boy's eyes watering; something hurts inside him for seeing the little boy like that.

"You know, those M&M's we were craving for, we finally get to have them," he says in an attempt to cheer up the little boy.

"No way, for real??" He jumped excitedly, and Pedri smiled at him.

"I swear. I'm going with Gavi after the training to get them." Pedri fixed the cap on Axel's head.

"You guys aren't going to eat them without me, right?" He pointed the finger at Pedri, trying to make an angry face.

"What, of course not? I'll bring them for you tomorrow, and also, I wouldn't eat them with Gavi; I'm angry at him," Pedri says as he starts to get his things ready to leave the academy.

"Why?" Axel asks curiously.

"Because he has a big mouth," the boy gasped, looking at Pedri.

"So he would eat everything," Axel says, worried, and Pedri laughs at his reaction.

"Yeah, something like that, buddy."

*****************************************

"Axel, I swear, it's been days since the last time I gave you candy; you shouldn't be this energetic," Isa asked as she watched her child jump from one chair to another. The boy stops, with a little smile on his face, and then back to his jumping games. Isa looks suspiciously at her child.

"Axel..." She calls, getting close to the boy. "You didn't eat any candy, right?" She holds the boy, stopping him from jumping anymore. He looks at her, his head tilts to the side, and a mischievous smile emerges on his little face, the dimples in his cheeks showing up. "Axel Harver," she says unbelievably as she starts to tickle him, his laughs getting louder and louder.

"Mom, stop. Please stoooop, Moooommy." She lets him go, letting him catch his breath.

"Little boy, little boy. I already told your grandfather not to give you too many candies." She kisses his head.

"It was for my friend; I couldn't let him eat alone," the boy said simply, and she smiled at him. Sometimes she couldn't believe how smart he was for his young age.

"No, you couldn't," she smiles, looking at the time on her watch; it was time to go home.

"Get your things; it's time for us to go home." The little boy ran to get his bag.

"Can we stop by Pops?" He asked excitedly.

"Of course, it's been two days since the last time you saw him; you guys are probably getting sick already," she says ironically at the boy, who had his grandfather on his little finger.

"He says that I could start Barça school after my birthday, so I'll be a La Masia boy, mom." The boy says excitedly as they walk towards the parking lot. He and his grandfather had been planning that moment for over a year; the excitement of both was evident. Honestly, Isa was still insecure about the idea of him wanting to be a player; she was too jealous for that, and modestly aside, her son was adorable, he would definitely get some attention. "You think I could play with my friend?" She looks down at her son.

"Well, probably, he's going to Barça school too?" She asked, as she had heard more than once about this friend of his.

"No, in the first team," he says simply. She looks confused at him.

"Well, I think it would take time for you both to be there; maybe you even change your mind about being a player." Her boy made a disgusted face.

"Axel, you are having so much attitude lately."

"But he's already there," he ignores what she is saying. She stops, looking at him.

"Wait, in the first team? Your friend?" The boy nodded happily. "The friend you spend the day with?" He nodded again, as his little eyes focused on something behind her.

"Are you befriending the players?" She asks, but she doesn't get his attention, as he seems to focus on the thing behind her before she can turn to see what he's looking at. He snaps out of his trance.

"Pedriiii!" he screams, and he runs away from her. She was pretty sure that her eyes were going to pop out as she heard the name. She then turned to see where her boy was going, catching a glimpse of him jumping excitedly into the player's arms.

"You've got to be kidding me," she says to herself.

*****************************************

"That friend of Aurora's is really into you," Gavi says to Pedri, who rolls his eyes. "You should give her a chance."

"I'm not interested; she's not my type." Gavi smiled wide at his friend, ready to comment, but was cut off by the boy who jumped at Pedri.

"Hi Pedri, hi Gavi." The little boy high-fived the two players.

"Hey little guy, no Gavi shirts today?" Gavi asked, getting an eye roll from Pedri.

"No. My mother said I should wear other clothes from time to time," he says with a sad smile, receiving a laugh from both players. "Are you going to get my candy?"

"Yes, I will. Are you here alone?" Pedri asked worriedly. He was used to meeting the boy alone inside the training center or the stadium, but the thought of the little boy running alone by the parking lot gave him shivers.

"Nooo, with mommy, Silly," he says, laughing as if Pedri had told him the funniest joke. Before Pedri could look around to search for the child's mother, his senses were clouded by the familiar scent of perfume that had been stuck in his mind for the past few days.

"Axel, what have I told you about running away from me like that? You can't let go of my hand on the street," the woman said in a sweet yet reprimanding voice.

"I know, Mom, but I had to talk to my friend," the little boy says in an even sweeter voice as he hugs the woman's legs. Pedri was absorbed in their interaction, while the woman's eyes stared at him. He simply couldn't believe it.

"Hi, Isa. Cute kid you have; now I can see the similarities," Gavi was the one to break the silence.

"Thanks, Pablo; he is the cutest." Pedri saw her eyes shine proudly as she looked at the boy, and honestly, Pedri felt dizzy.

"Hey, Pedri. I need to take my mother home and take her to a place," Gavi calls for Pedri.

"Ok, Let's Go! Bye Axel," Pedri wave a quick good bye to the little one, ignoring his mother.

"NO! You can't come, it's personal," Gavi says almost desperately, getting an intrigued look from Pedri.

"Gavira, I spent months taking you to every place; you owe me," Pedri says feeling annoyed as he watches his teammate head to his car.

"Sorry, brother. Ask one of the boys."

"We can take you!" The little voice says behind him. "Right mom, right? We can take him, pleeeease, we can take him, riiiiight?" He says as he jumps, pushing his mother's blazer, whose face was getting red.

"I don't know, we are going to Pops, and he probably doesn't want it."

"Of course he wants," Gavi says almost screaming.

"Aren't you leaving?" The three ask at the same time to the youngest, who looks amused as he gets in his car, leaving the parking lot.

"So you're coming with us, right? Right, mommy?" The woman only nodded, taking the kid in her arms and heading to her car. Pedri follows right beside them; he watches as she puts the little boy in the car seat.

"Axel, stop moving," she murmurs at the chatty boy. Once she finishes fixing it, she takes a step back, expecting to close the door, but ends up bumping into Pedri, who was holding the door. With a push, he closes the door, trapping Isa between him and the car. He takes a breath watching her beautiful face, but then he remembers something that was bugging his mind.

"Is your husband coming with us?" He says in a hushed tone just for her to hear. She opens her mouth to reply but nothing comes out; she brushes past Pedri and gets into the car. Pedri runs his hands through his face; he would kill Gavira.

"Aren't you getting in? We are late," she says annoyingly after rolling down the car window. Pedri grumbles and heads for the passenger door.

*****************************************

There was so much tension inside the car, of course imperceptible to the little one who chatted incessantly in the back seat, telling things to his mother, asking questions to Pedri, and singing along to the songs playing on the radio. Despite the many conversations he had with the little one, Pedri hadn't realized how talkative he was; perhaps the presence of the other players made him feel shy. Pedri returned to his conversations with the boy, noticing the mannerisms he had and now could see how much he resembled his mother: the sweet way of speaking, the sweet and welcomed smile, the dimples on his cheeks when he smiled. Pedri was feeling something strange; the presence of the woman clouded his feelings.

"Pedriiiii," Axel's voice snapped his attention back. Pedri turned in his seat to face the younger one.

"Yes, buddy?"

"Mommy is talking to you." The child pointed to the woman driving. Pedri redirected his focus to her, who glanced at him briefly before returning her attention to the road.

"You didn't tell us your address," she said calmly, the velvety tone of her voice sending shivers down Pedri's spine.

"Um, actually, you can drop me off at this store downtown," he showed her the address. "My brother will pick me up there."

"We can drop you home."

"No, I don't want to cause you any trouble," he couldn't help the sharpness in his tone, and he saw the woman wince and just murmur a little and almost inaudible 'ok'.

After a few minutes, they arrived at the candy store.

"Wait here for a minute," he told the woman, hurrying out of the car as quickly as he could to retrieve his order from the store.

*****************************************

"Oh my God, he's really going to get them," Isa looked at the back seat, seeing her son looking outside where the player walked towards a store, a fascinated look on his face.

"What, Axel?" She asked curiously, not used to Axel admiring someone else like that; normally, he was a shy child around strangers.

"Our candies," he said excitedly. "The ones we wanted but couldn't find, with different flavors."

"Did you ask him?" She turned to look at him, trying not to sound like she was reprimanding him.

"No, he wanted them too. And since I'm his friend, he's going to share them with me, because he likes me, Mom, he really likes me." Isa felt her throat tighten, and her eyes filled with tears. Words could hurt, especially when said to a child. She didn't know what to say to him, but the little boy's excitement comforted her heart.

"Here, buddy, we finally got them," the player gets into the car, snapping Isa out of her thoughts; she silently watches their interaction and how happy her son is. "Are you taking them to practice tomorrow?" Pedri asked as he stroked the child's cheek.

"YEEEEES!" Axel shouted excitedly.

"Alright, see you tomorrow then!" He said smiling at the little boy and then turned to the woman beside him. "Thanks for the ride."

"Thank you for this," she said honestly. "You have no idea what this means." The player furrowed his brows in confusion and then exited the car.

*****************************************

The feeling of returning to training with the rest of the team was a great relief, especially when there was the possibility of returning to play soon. Pedri felt ready; the medical department had already cleared him to drive, but they still wanted to postpone his return to the fields. And as eager as he was, he wanted to follow the guidance of the professionals. But still, knowing that he could return to playing soon gave him extra motivation in his recovery.

Pedri was eager to share the news with his little friend, who longed for his return even more than he did himself, but it had been almost a week since the last time he saw the boy. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he missed the boy running to meet him after training. He thought about asking about him to the boy's mother, but every time he saw her, the ring gleamed on her finger. Pedri didn't want to make a big deal out of it; after all, it was a one-night stand, but he couldn't deny that he was affected. The remnants of that night were vivid in his mind, and knowing that the woman was committed spoiled the images for him.

"You know, for someone who wants to seem indifferent, you're terrible at hiding it," Gavi whispers beside him as they watch the woman approaching with the film crew.

"Hello, boys," she says with a sweet smile.

"Hello, Isa," Gavi greets excitedly and nudges his friend to do the same, but Pedri just nods slightly, which seems to frustrate the woman. She kept her gaze on the player's face, reading every detail as if searching for an opening to say something.

"Here are your lines," she says after a few minutes of silence, handing over the cue cards with the ready-made phrases they needed to record for the Barça One promotion. "It'll be quick," she says, moving behind the man handling the camera, and soon the rest of the crew went to prepare the players.

Gavi was the first to record, while Pedri amused himself watching. Gavi hated these kinds of activities, so something that could normally be quick ended up taking longer because of him. Pedri's attention is stolen when his eyes fall on the woman, who is watching the recordings while making some notes in a notebook and speaking to the cameraman. As if sensing Pedri's eyes, she turns to face him and then walks slowly towards him, stopping by his side.

"You said you didn't know who I was that night," the player says quietly so only the woman can hear him. She looked back at him, her confidence in facing him as if challenging him bringing back memories.

"Are you talking to me now?" She asks in an ironic tone. "And I never said I didn't know who you were, I just said I didn't care," she says convincingly, and there it was, the sharp tongue and tone from that night, the player thought.

"That's not how it seemed, just like the part about being married," Pedri smiles proudly having retorted in the same tone, but the woman's furious look makes the smile disappear.

"It's not like that, and if you didn't keep avoiding me every time I show up, you'd know," she turns her attention back to Gavi's recording.

"You just had to say 'Hey, I have a husband,' it's not that hard," he says as he moves away from her."

*****************************************

Isa didn't want to go out that night, in weeks like that she gets in a terrible mood, there were right and wrong days, and that was a wrong one. But her work friends were eager for a night out , and they kept saying how good it would be for her since she was an ocean of anxiety. So there she was, sitting in the bar watching her friends dancing excitedly, she didn't want to go dance, not yet at least, she still wasn't feeling at her best to enjoy the night like that.

"Hey doll, can I buy you a drink?" A man comes to her side, she looks at him uninterested.

"No, thanks," she says simply, backing at watching her friends.

"C'mon, it's just a drink." He holds her arm getting close to her face.

"I don't want it." she says firmly.

"Oh, don't play hard to get," he touched her hair. "you are too pretty to be here alone." He insisted with a flirtatious smile.

"She's not here alone." The familiar voice cut before she could answer the man. "Take your hands out of my girlfriend" he says in a warning tone, making the woman gasp, Isa looks around to see if there are eyes on them, but for their luck, no one is paying attention.

"You? Her boyfriend? No way." The man laughs looking at Isa. "Aren't him like one of the Barça kids?" Isa saw Pedri's face turning red, and before he could answer she took him by the waist, getting him away from the inconvenient man.

****************************************

The moment he saw the woman enter the bar, he just knew that he shouldn't have accepted Ferran's invitation to the nightclub. Because from that moment, his attention were on her, just like the first night. He tried his best to try to look uninterested, he even tried to speak and dance with a girl who was in their VIP area. But his eyes kept stealing glances at the woman, and the moment he saw a man on her side, he made his choice, going right into her.

He didn't have the time to answer the man who called him a kid, he had an answer for that, a good one that Isa herself could confirm, but her hand putting him away was distracting, the power she had over him was driving him crazy.

"Barça would end us, especially me, if I let the image of one of their golden boys get messed up because of some nightclub confusion" Pedri looked at the woman's face, her big brown eyes were soft and just like always, were mapping all his face.

The people around them didn't seem to notice who he was especially how they weren't dancing to the rhythm of the music playing. Pedri's hand was over her waist going up and down, she passed her manicured hand by her hair and the action made the smell of her perfume travel to his nose, automatically he bent down to her neck, smelling her inebriated perfume, like someone addicted. The woman was blinding his senses. He thought that the remaining images of their night, which kept playing as a movie in his mind were just the carnal feeling of a good night, but now he was afraid that it was something more, since the fact that only the idea of watching her gets all his attention, and we're everything about her, literally everything.

"Let's get out of here" she murmurs in his ears.

He didn't answer, he only took her by the hand to get out of the club.

That's how they ended up in the hotel room again, they didn't talk, the actions of the desire were speaking for them, Pedri was tasting every piece of her, like a starving man, like it was the last thing he would do. And deep down he thought that maybe it was the last thing, cause a noise kept ringing in his mind, remember him about the ring on her finger. And that makes him snapped at realization, he took the woman's hand who was holding his hair as if she depended on it, and there was no signal of the commitment. He kisses her hand then her mouth, and then all over her breast. She kept murmuring and saying things he couldn't understand, her face was all messed up because of her red lipstick, and he was sure he had the vestiges in his face too.

"You remember what you said to me that night?" He asked her, her eyes looking at him with such intensity that he felt at his chest. She smiles, her cheeks getting more red.

"That you should stop flirting with me 'cause i was hard to forget." She said with a lazy smile as she kissed his face.

"Well you were right"

"I am always right, I said that too, when you call me an arrogant, knowing-all b*tch."

As Pedri was to answer, the woman's phone rang, she picked it up from the bedside table, and the name "Henry" showed on screen, making Pedri rudely distance himself from her. She rolls her eyes as she answers the call, and soon her face turns pale, Pedri watches her with worry.

"What happened? Baby..." She gets up from the bad, "Do not cry, please, don't cry. Mommy it's going to pick you up, my Axel." Her choked voice and the mention of the name make Pedri stand up and approach the woman, who was trembling nervously.

"Let me talk to someone," she says, Pedri stops in front of her. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH HIM? HE IS JUST A CHILD!" she screamed sterically, her voice full of pain, making Pedri holding her arms, and try to calm her down. "That always happens, every time, he's just a baby, and every time you guys do this to him." She goes silent for a moment, Pedri felt his heart beating so hard that he could hear the thuds echoing in his ears. "I'll go get him" she says firmly, " I don't care how late it is. I'm not leaving my son like this." She ends the call and then throws the phone on the bed, her hands covering her face as she collapses and cries uncontrollably. Pedri embraces her, his chest full of concern for the woman and the little boy.

"Isa, what happened? Is Axel hurt?" he asks.

"I need to go," she says, stepping away from the player.

"I'm coming with you" She pushed Pedri away.

"No, you're not, you don't need to." She says coldly.

"I'm not letting you go anywhere alone, not in this state," he says firmly as he gathers their things around the room. Isa looks at him with apprehension and suspicion. Pedri couldn't understand her action. He holds the door, waiting for her to leave the room, and then she huffs in frustration and follows him outside.

Once in the car, Pedri gives her his hoodie that was in the backseat of his car, as thanks to him, the woman's dress was ruined. He drives to the address she had given him, the journey in complete silence except for the sound of the woman typing incessantly on her phone. As they arrive at the destination, Isa takes a deep breath and then looks at the player.

"Pedri, please, promise me, no matter what you see or hear, you don't leave the car, understood? Or you'll make things difficult for me." The desperation in the woman's voice made Pedri's stomach sick; not knowing what was happening was making him desperate. "You'll make things difficult for Axel," she says before he could say anything. And, reluctantly, Pedri agrees with the woman, as he would never do anything to harm the child.

He watches as the woman gets out of the car and rushes into the yard of a house, calling out for Axel. A blond woman emerges from the house and points a finger at Isa. They engage in a heated discussion, but he cannot hear their words. Then he sees Isa push the woman and hastily enter the house. Everything falls silent for a few minutes, and his heart races so fast that he wonders how he hasn't had a heart attack yet. After a few minutes, he sees Isa emerging from the house, holding Axel in her arms. She walks briskly towards the car, with the blond woman following her, screaming insults. Isa quickly jumps into the car with Axel, and the back door closes behind them.

"You can go now," she says, and Pedri turns around to look at her. Her face is red from crying. Pedri starts the car and drives away, not knowing exactly where to go, but deciding to wait before asking as Isa is talking to Axel. "It's okay, love. You're okay now." She says in a calm voice, trying to calm down the little boy.

"I don't want to come back, I don't want to stay with them, they're all mean to me," he cried so hard that Pedri stopped the car, deeply concerned for the kid, as he had never seen him cry like that before.

"You don't have to, Mommy promises you won't go back there, at least if it's something you want." Pedri turns to look at them, observing the woman wiping the tears from the little one's face and giving him a tight hug. Their eyes meet, and Pedri sees so much pain in hers.

"What's going on? This is tearing me apart," he says as he gestures towards them.

"Pedriiii?" Axel spun so quickly to look at the player that Pedri feared he had snapped his neck. He leaped from Isa's arms to the front seat and hugged Pedri tightly. Pedri simply held him back, while Isa looked on in complete awe at her son's rapid change of mood.

"I'll finally be able to eat my candies," the little boy says with a sweet excited voice.

"Axel!!" Isa says laughing at the boy's innocence.

*********************************************

N/A: SOOOOOO, what did you guys think? Writing the last part, breaks my heart, because I know their situation, me being mean for not telling you guys 😏

So, the next chapter will be the penultimate one, and then there will be the final one, and then the bonus. As mentioned in the previous chapter. Of course, it all depends on how much the characters are talking to me as well...

#pedri gonzalez #pedri imagine #pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri #barca #fc barcelona #gavi imagine #pablo gavi

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

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For the actor au how would Vox react if he knew why Y/N was so red and hitting Angel with the pillow

A/N: Featuring Alastor's wifey aka @a-hazbin-reader's OC, honestly I just didn't want to put another (Y/N) there- so for all you Alastor lovers- come and get your numnums XD also Vox is kind of a dumbass when it comes to romance, in the show he's an idiot because he can't emotion like bro doesn't know how to be treated decently- in this AU he's just really dense because he's actually pretty young and inexperienced compared to the rest of the gang. If you guys want me to expound on that go and drop me a request question for it! :D

Actor AU: Relationship Rambling 2

Vox: "Oh their blushing face and that? Most of it was actually just makeup and acting, sorry guys!"

Alastor: *Once again contemplating why he is good friends with Vox* "You're really dense you know that?"

Vox: "I've been told, but I knew about the script already so before you get any ideas-"

Alastor: "That's not what-" *Tired sigh* "My point is, (Y/N) likes you. As in really like-like you. I'm saying this outright because I know you're not gonna get it-"

Vox: "As friends. Right?"

Alastor: "...Vox I am this close to strangling you-"

Nix: "Hey there boys! Vox, Alastor, what- wait what's happening?"

Vox: "I'm confused."

Alastor: "He's blind."

Nix: "Oh is this about-" *Laughs*

Vox: *Just sheer confusion*

Alastor: "I am actually on the verge of making a canon character event and murdering this guy-"

Nix: "Here, here- let me try! Vox, you really like spending time with (Y/N) right?"

Vox: "Yes...? What's that got to do with anything? I spend time with everyone here."

Nix: "I meant in the way that you value their presence more?"

Vox: "A little bit? But (Y/N)'s my co-star in the drama we're filming- isn't that normal?"

Alastor: *Facepalms*

Nix: "Nevermind, do you want to kiss them more than the script dictates?"

Vox: "Kinda? I dunno."

Alastor: *Throws his hands up in exasperation* "VOX-"

Nix: *Holds a hand in front of Alastor to get him to shut up* "So if you had the chance would you kiss (Y/N) without needing a script?"

Vox: "Well, yeah. They're just really cool, kind, cute, plus the way they just handle themselves is so amazing- whether or not the cameras are rolling, not to mention that they're just- ohhh. Oh. I get it now."

Nix: *Smiles* "So? Why don't you go and tell them?"

Vox: "Nuh- I wouldn't dare."

Alastor: "I am going to go insane listening to you-"

Nix: "Vox, just go and tell (Y/N) how you feel! It'll go well, I promise!"

Vox: "... I'll... think about it." *Leaves*

Alastor: "Okay, HOW??? I've been trying to tell him the obvious for months now."

Nix: "Maybe let him figure it out instead of just telling him outright? You were just like him back then."

Alastor: *Pouts* "No I wasn't, I was at least aware of my feelings."

Nix: *Kisses his cheek* "Maybe you were, but that didn't make you any less of a mess hun."

Alastor: *Pulls Nix into a hug* "Maybe, but enough about Vox. I thought you were dating me?"

Nix: *Boops his nose* "You're a dork." *Laughs*

Alastor: *Chuckles* "I'm your dork darling, there's a difference."

Nix: *Leans on Alastor* "Maybe, but I don't see it."

(Y/N): *Walks in* "Hey have either of you seen-"

Nix: *Suddenly shoves Alastor off* "Vox? He just left!"

(Y/N): "Uhm... okay? Thanks!" *Leaves*

Alastor: *Sitting on the floor with his arms crossed* "That was cruel dear."

Nix: "Sorry, sorry. Force of habit."

Alastor: "Do we really have to continue doing this?"

Nix: "Look, I just- I don't really want to give everyone too many ideas. You already see what's going on with Vox and (Y/N)."

Alastor: "What if I said I didn't care?"

Nix: "Wait what-? Really?"

Alastor: "I don't mind it, I know I used to- but I don't really think so anymore. It's probably better than always being pushed away because someone else came into the room."

Nix: *Crouches down and hugs Alastor* "Okay, if you say so. Besides, I'm a little tired of hiding it too. Sometimes I just wanna cuddle and kiss after a long day of filming."

Alastor: *Hugs Nix back* "Yeah, so do I love. So do I."

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #vox #get off my screen series #hazbin hotel vox #vox x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #alastor x reader #alastor altruist #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x you #actor au

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kanrix · 28 days

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Any tips on growing your following?

If you *only* post about your ocs then you probably won't get that many followers. It's easier to start by drawing fandom stuff and wait until you have more ""fans"", THEN People will look at your ocs, you can completely move from drawing fandom stuff to drawing strictly your OCS.

It's not impossible to gain followers from drawing your own OCS from the start but. You know.

Be active, (I guess) repost your work if you feel like it hasn't gotten that much attention.

Make art for other popular creators, maybe if you get lucky enough they will share it with their own followers.

I really can't give you many tips. I have been here for like. 4-5 years and I think I have a decent enough following. A lot of these people probably don't even remember me, or accidentally followed me and were too lazy to take their follow back, are (porn)bots, etc. They won't interact with your content anymore but that's normal.

#ask #anonymous #i have done none of these lol #follow other artists. i think that helps uh #people will see you in a lighter note.........?#I'm just guessing. i dont follow that many people in this fandom #i could be wrong

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hiaon · 11 days

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First time asking, can I ask for a nsfw of m!reader bunny w the biggg baddd werewolf. Old trope ik but I eat it up every time. It's okay if you don't wanna, I love your works btw!

Werewolf oc x Bunny male reader

Dw I also eat this sht up like cake, also. Thank you for liking my workss!! I also thought about this yesterday! I had 2 Ideas for this, either an going auction male bunny reader. Or just in the woods, so I took the safer option. (Definitely not because I have no idea what to do next in the auction one orrr should I make that one too??)

Took forever right? 💀

Disclaimer: Size difference, BIMBO, mating, & a Soft giant.

Ever since your parents left you in your now home, you never saw another bunny as such for yourself. You always have to find food for your self, your diet usually just flowers. Especially dandelions.

Dandelions are your favorite! So the result of your dandelion addiction, you couldn't find anymore in your area. It's probably because you ate all of it, or something..

After days, even a week without dandelions. You started to lose yourself and wanted to go to the forbidden place where your parents forbidd you to go in part of the woods, ever since you got into that part of the forest your started to feel very hot.

At this point of your life, you didn't even know what a heat was. So you didn't think anything of it. But even you felt uncomfortable and weird at the time, but you saw a field of dandelions! You we're so excited, you though that it can last you for months with this much food. You really thought you hit the jackpot.

But with all this excitement and food. You didn't notice a werewolf watching your every move at his territory.

After losing count on how many dandelions you ate, it was already the afternoon and since the view was amazing and you haven't felt this good in a while, aside the hot and weird feeling in your stomach. It was already the afternoon and you still can't get rid that hot feeling, in fact it's getting worst by the minute you wanted to do something but don't know how. So you just laid there feeling feverish, till you fall asleep in the field of dandelions.

Though the werewolf was contemplating when to strike at the bunny, but he couldn't get himstto do so. There was just something about the bunny that made him stop thinking, so he just watched the whole thing until the bunny slept.

The werewolf thought there was something wrong with the bunny, was the bunny in heat?.

It's not safe to leave a poor bunny in heat outside like this. A lot of hybrid animals will eventually take advantage of the sleeping bunny, so he took the chance to take to bunny to his house.

When you woke up you felt horrible, your sweating all over the place and have tho urge to do something, but you can't put your finger into it.

You didn't even noticed the werewolf a little bit 5 feet away for you, you finally noticed when you heard that he heard the werewolf snort at a bug near his nose.

You were terrified, you had a million questions per second. As you froze for a moment, you had the courage to bolt into a random room. You just have to get away, is this the reason why your parents forbid you to go to the forest that you're currently in??

But suddenly you ran into a dead end, as if feeling fire is one with your body wasn't enough. The running you did definitely made it worst, something in your stomach started to burn. It made everything worst with the current situation.

"Woah there lil bunny, I don't intend to harm you." The werewolf said while still being on his hairy form. Since survival skill is a bitch and didn't know who he was of course he was going to try to run away from him.

"W-why did you bring me h-here.." Your trying and hard as you can to ignore the now heat-that-you-don't-even-know-a-thing-about.

The werewolf knows that you're in pain because of the heat.

"Look, I'm trying my best to hold on here. How about you just go to my bed and rest till that heat of yours wears down a little bit." The werewolf really really is trying to not go ballistic like a wild animal and pounce on you like there's no tomorrow, and you sensed that he is sincere and honest to his words.

So you gave in, if you didn't you would have think you'll pass out twice today.

"E- excuse me uhm-"

"The names Riot, sweetheart."

You blushed at the nickname, since it's been years of talking to an actual living being. Not some doll you made when you we're bored.

"Uhm.. Riot, how do you get rid of this heat?" Riot explained some to you briefly earlier, so.. you kind know what it is.

"You have to make love with someone, here's tea. To get you to calm down a little bit on your heat." Riot is the different type of werewolf that your parents always say that was wild and ballistic to everyone, it was refreshing for you some how.

"How?"

"Uh, how do I say this. You need a person to help it calm down it for you." Riot seems flustered.

"Then, can we do it?" With curiosity in your eyes and eagerness to get this heat gone once and for all. You hated this feeling.

"What.. Look sweetheart, heat isn't that light to be taken up so easily. You need a person you actually trust to do it with-" You cut him off because, your heat is getting more intense by the minute.

"P-please! Help m-me get rid of my heat for me.. Please.?" Honestly, how could anyone would refuse those eyes.

---

Let's just say that you won't be able to do anything tomorrow.

#gay #oc x male reader #x male reader #x you #oneshot #bxb #omegaverse #no smut

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melswifeasf · 8 months

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Safest in your arms pt 9

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Pairing: Georgia Miller x fem!oc

Summary: unfinished business is tended between Georgia and Samantha.

Warnings: (18+) MDNI, smut, cursing, drug use, age gap relationships (18 and 30) grooming, sexual themes.

BATTLE OF THE BANDS had not been something Samantha expected to go to. she knew Maxine was going since some of her friends were in a band so it made sense that she went but Samantha didn't know anyone performing. her friends had been the ones that decided it would be fun to go high which at the time sounded like a good idea up until Georgia texted her asking her if she wanted to come over later that night meaning she would be the only sober person in the group. she watched as all of her friends laughed at Hunters song, they were trying their best to do it in a hushed tone but they were failing horribly and Samantha was starting to feel bad for those performing. she wanted to laugh too, she wouldn't deny that but she did so quietly in order to not hurt anyone's feelings. her friends on the other hand couldn't care less.

it wouldn't be so funny if they had smoked but Matthew had found a kid at school who sold molly so they decided to take that instead. the young girl shook her head as she her friends giggled to themselves as they watched Matthew attempt to sing Hunters song. they had all left the school, although it wasn't really their choice but they were drawing too much attention to themselves and Samantha would rather not get in trouble for being under the influence on school property. they were now all in Matthews basement, it was Friday so they were all going to spend the night. Samantha had driven them there and none of them were in condition to drive so Matthew just told them to stay over.

"i can't breathe," Oliver wheezed as he laid his head on his girlfriends lap. Natalie laughed at her boyfriend whilst she ran her hands through his hair. the two of them were on the floor, Nia was on the couch laying her head on Samanthas shoulder and Jade was laying her head on the girls lap. Matthew on the other hand was standing as he impersonated Hunter.

"you guys are going to hell," Samantha laughed as she shook her head.

"come on!" Matthew said "it's funny"

"it's very funny but you guys were so loud and i feel bad for them." she tried to reason with them bud Jade waved her off.

"no, no. he's cringe as fuck. if you write a song for your girlfriend then sing it to her in private but not in front of everyone who can make fun of you." she said pointing her finger as she spoke.

Samantha chuckled grabbed her hand so she wasn't waving it around in front of her face. "you guys are gonna feel so shitty tomorrow," she murmured. she had taken it before and she knew how bad the hangover was.

Nia laughed, "you can take care of us." she said but then gasped, "oh wait, never mind, you're gonna go tap bootylicious ass" she said making Matthew hold his hand up and Nia high fived him.

Jade looked at Samantha suddenly serious, "who's bootylicious?"

"it's no one" Samantha shook her head glaring at both of the teens who had just exposed her secret. the two of them knowing was already two too many, she did not need any more people on the bandwagon.

"doesn't sound like no one" Natalie said with eyebrows furrowed.

"you never hide your hookups from us. is it A-" before he could even get the words out Natalie slapped her hand on his mouth, his words drowned out by it.

"ouch" he said and the blonde girl quickly pulled her hand away and wiped it on his shirt. "why do you have so much saliva?" she grimaced. the two slowly began to argue about something - Samantha wasn't even sure anymore but quickly after the other three began to butt into the conversation. her phone vibrating in her back pocket prevented her from deciphering exactly what they were talking about. she pulled it out and saw the first notification on her screen.

🍑 12:33

kids are asleep

she bit her lip to try and prevent her smile, she didn't want any of them asking her who she was talking to. now she knew why being the only sober person in the room was so boring. thankfully they were all engrossed in one another to see her quickly typing on her phone.

12:33 S

i'm leaving now

she didn't get a response after that and she put her cellphone back in her pocket. "okay, i have to go guys." she said softly tapping Jades shoulder so she can get up from her lap.

the girl frowned but got up none the less. Nia got the hint and also moved her head from Samantha's shoulder, considering she knew why she was leaving she didn't bother asking anything.

"boo" Natalie said throwing her thumbs down making Samantha chuckle in amusement. she stood from the couch and stretched her body whilst doing so, she had been sitting with two girls leaning on her for the past hour and her shoulder was starting to feel sore.

"come on, tell us who she is" Oliver said.

Samantha shook her head, "it's no one, my mom wants me home." she shrugged trying to make it seem as believable as possible. if they were sober that would be near impossible, they all knew one another to the point in which lying wasn't an option but they were all high for so that hopefully wouldn't be the case.

"lies, Ellen would never" Oliver said shaking his head.

of course he would be the one to know. Samantha sometimes thought the boy had a crush on her mom from how much he defended her.

"yeah well things have changed ever since she found out Max was lying" she said hoping that would be enough for him to drop it. technically it wasn't a complete lie, she had even more strict but it was with the twins, not her.

"but-"

"babe, shut up" Natalie said flicking his forehead. the boy frowned at her which earned himself a kiss on the place he had just been hurt. that seemed to distract him giving her time to sneak away. she got a thumb up from both Matthew and Nia as she began to walk to the stairs causing her to breathe out a laugh.

after what happened in her car she figured they might take things further that night. at least that's what she hoped. she hadn't been able to take the woman out of her head ever since that night. the way her lips felt on hers, the way she would pull her hair or how she was practically burning with need. it was all too much and she was getting impatient. she wondered if Georgia felt the same way. wondered if the blonde thought about the kiss before going to sleep or in the middle of the day during the most inappropriate times causing her to shift in her chair.

thankfully most of the roads were empty as the young girl sped in the direction of her home. the universe was on her side seeing as she was met with almost all green lights and only a car or two in sight. when she finally pulled into her neighborhood she parked a couple houses down so that her mom wouldn't see that she was home. she had told her she might spend the night at Matthews just in case she left rather late from Georgias place.

the raven haired girl grabbed her keys and phone as she locked the car behind her. she was wearing light gray cargo pants and a blue shirt, over it was a blue zip up that belonged to Marcus. she made sure to take in her surroundings the closer she got to the blondes home, the last thing she needed was Marcus or Max watching her climb up their neighbors balcony. there was no friendly explanation for that. although when she thought about it, if Marcus did find out, she wouldn't mind it much. her brother barely spoke to anyone, let alone gossiped. he had been the only person apart from her friends to know about her ex, he had been someone she relied on a little for advice. it was just easier with him being in the family, he knew what to say and what advice to give considering they shared the same sister and parents, something her friends didn't.

the girl cleared her head once she finally reached the woman's balcony, Georgia was already there looking extremely beautiful. her hair was slightly messy and it tumbled down her shoulders, she had on a black dress that had a V which only showed the slightest of cleavage. it must've been what she wore to the fundraiser and the thought of her not taking it off simply to show it off made Samanthas stomach feel warm.

when both her feet were finally on the balcony Georgia showed off her perfect teeth. "hey," she said. even though Samantha had grown used to her accent it didn't change the effect it had on her.

"hey," Samantha responded, "you look beautiful in that dress." she said her eyes raking down the blondes body to really emphasize her words.

Georgia smiled, "you like?"

"i love" Samantha said making the blonde laugh lightly. she reached for the shorter girls hand and began to lead her inside the house. it was something that had never happened before but she didn't question it. it was pretty obvious what the blonde had in mind for the night and she wasn't complaining.

it turned out she was right. as soon as they entered the blondes room a pair of lips crashed down onto Samanthas, it was so quick she didn't even have a chance to take in the room she was in.

they ended up on the bed, the blonde laying on her back with Samanthas between her legs. the raven haired girl was holding her body up with her hands as she kissed the blonde roughly. it was just like their kiss the other night except this time they could touch each other without any restrictions. one of the blondes hands were tangled in the raven girls hair once more whilst the other was on her waist, dangerously close to her ass. Samantha reached toward the blonde face where she softly caressed the skin.

she was so caught in the moment she didn't realize her knee was grazing the blondes crotch until Georgia gasped into her mouth softly. she pulled away instantly, thinking she had hurt her. "are you okay?" she asked examining her face to make sure there was no sign of discomfort.

"yeah." Georgia nodded, "keep going." she said and pulled the girl back down once more. she wanted to ask if she wanted to take things further but that question was answered on its own when she felt the blonde begin to grind on her leg. she could help but smirk causing their teeth to clash but that didn't stop Georgia from kissing the raven haired girl hungrily. it was as if she was starving and Samantha was the only food in sight.

Samantha felt Georgias hand move up from her waist and inside her shirt, her hand was a bit cold causing her to shiver in surprise. she soon got used to it and the blonde began to move it further up until she was touching the edge of the girls bra. she pulled away, her eyes gazing into a pool of brown that were shinning. Samantha didn't need Georgia to say anything, she already knew she was asking for consent. instead of answering anything she sat up for a moment, her hands reached for the hem of her shirt before she pulled it over her head, the shirt thrown somewhere behind her.

Georgia smiled at that, her eyes taking in the girls exposed stomach. her abs were flexing considering the position she was in and she could see the swell of the girls breasts even with the bra. Samantha leaned back down, expecting Georgia to kiss her again but instead the blonde leaned forward and pressed a kiss just above the black bra. Samantha bit her lip at the contact, her back was slightly arched and Georgias left hand was holding on it whilst the other was cupping her other breast.

feather like kisses were spread around Samanthas upper body, as they progressed they began to turn into open mouthed kisses which made Samantha bite her lip harder. she was trying her hardest to stop herself from making any noise. the same hand that was on the younger girls back reached up toward the clasp of her bra, Samantha could feel it causing an excitement to build in her stomach. she was glad there wasn't much foreplay, after the other night she couldn't take another second. the blondes eyes opened and she looked up at Samantha, she looked so innocent and yet she was silently asking her if she could take off her bra.

Samantha nodded her head and just like that Georgia unclasped it causing it to hang loosely on the raven girls shoulders. she was quick to pull both straps down and she threw it on the bed beside her. it was safe to say the blonde wasn't expecting two piercings staring back at her. brown eyes snapped up toward Samantha again causing her to chuckle. "your not the only one filled with secrets." she whispered and leaned down to press her lips on the blondes.

before it could grow too heated Georgia pulled away, "you're the one with secrets here apparently." she said obviously still caught up on the fact that Samantha was still avoiding the topic about her ex. the raven haired girl didn't respond and instead distracted her once more as she began to kiss the blondes neck. her tongue grazed the soft skin and her knee began to move against the blonde once more. she could feel the soaked garment even through her pants and she was sure it would leave a wet patch. she didn't care though.

Samantha pulled away all together, far too impatient to wait even more. "take off your dress." she said and sat on her knees as she waited. not needing to be told twice Georgia sat up and quickly unzipped her dress. she soon pulled it off and threw it on the floor beside the bed. she fully expected the reaction she was getting, widened eyes with nothing but pure desire swirling in them. she too didn't want to waste any more time and quickly pulled the girl back down to capture her lips in a wet kiss.

their tongues slid against one another, the sound of their kissing echoed throughout the room and Samantha was glad Georgia had the television on even before she arrived. Samantha wasn't all that happy that she couldn't fully take in the blondes body but she could do so another day. at least she hoped she could. before her mind could turn to another place she reached behind the blondes body and took her bra off as well.

Georgia quickly reached for the straps and took it off completely, discarding it somewhere without having to break the kiss. the blondes hands were soon placed on the girls pants, they began to unbutton and unzip in a hurry and after a hand swiftly moves inside them. at first she came in contact with her panties causing Samantha to shudder, she could feel how wet she was and she couldn't help but feel slightly embarrassed. although it was pointless considering Georgia was just like her.

the blondes hand began to circle the girl a bit clumsily reminding Samantha that this was probably the first time Georgia was hooking up with a girl and that she had to take control this time around. the raven haired girl grabbed the blondes wrist making her stop. that made Georgia pull away from her lips as well, "you don't?" she asked her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and slight worry. she figured this is what she wanted considering everything and she didn't think she needed to ask once again but maybe she was wrong. those worries disappeared when Samantha shook her head.

"it's not that, i just.. have you ever been with a girl?" she asked titling her head slightly.

the blonde looked away for a split second, "is it that obvious?" she asked with a light chuckle but Samantha could tell she had made her insecure which isn't at all what she wanted.

"what? no, i just want to make sure your comfortable." she quickly said.

"i am. are you?"

Samantha nodded with a twinge of a smile to show she was being honest. her first time was awkward but that was because not only was it her first time but it was also the case for the girl she was with which meant it wasn't great. it was awkward and clumsy and if she was being honest neither of them were able to actually get there. it wasn't until they had more practice and a sense of what they each enjoyed that things got better. she knew that would probably be the same for Georgia but unlike Samantha, she'd have someone experienced to guide her. "why don't i show you what to do?" she suggested softly and leaned in to peck the blondes lips to try and convey a more a comfortable atmosphere.

with a nod from the blonde Samantha smiled and leaned in to kiss her once more. she pulled her pants down on her own at first before Georgia reached forward to help pull them off completely. they were now both matching, exposed completely expect for their panties. Samantha squeezed the blondes hip before it slid to the side until she was met with the top of the cloth. the raven haired girl sucked on the woman's bottom lip and moved her panties to the side to expose her wet slit. Georgia made a soft noise that almost went unnoticed by the younger girl.

the kiss was broken as Samantha began to prepped them down the blondes chin until she reached her neck once more where she began to suck and lick the skin. she was rubbing the blondes clit in small circles, it wasn't like she needed to stimulate her considering she was soaked but even then she wanted to make things more comfortable for her. Georgia was a panting mess, her right hand gripping the back of the girls neck whilst the other was holding her pillow softly. when she felt she had enough Samantha moved two of her fingers down her slit until she reached her opening where she slowly eased two of them in. immediately after the blondes back lifted from the bed and her hand on Samanthas neck tightened causing her to smirk against the woman's neck.

she let her adjust for a second before she began to move her fingers in and out of the woman. when the blonde began to moan softly into the room Samantha pulled away from her neck and moved further down her body until she was met with her chest. her mouth watered at the sight and unintentionally her hand began to move more roughly causing Georgia mutter out a quiet 'fuck' which only boosted the girls ego even more. her mouth began to lower on the blondes chest, she began kissing just at the top of her chest before she slowly began to move down, when she was insanely close to her nipple she stuck her tongue out and dragged it down her skin until she reached it. the girl circled it twice, her eyes set on the blondes face that was contorted in pleasure. her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open as she whimpered every second or so, especially when the girls hand would rub against her clit.

"open your eyes." Samantha said causing Georgia to do so. she seemed slightly confused as she held eye contact with the young girl but that confusion evaporated when the raven girl closed her mouth against the hardened nub and began to suck softly.

Samantha felt the blonde scratch softly at her shoulders causing it to sting but she didn't care in that moment. all she wanted to do was to keep hearing the blondes moans. she pulled away from the blonde, a string of saliva connecting from her mouth and the woman's nipple which made the woman even more wet. Samantha could very much feel that, the obscene noises coming from the lower half of the blondes body just enough proof of that.

"tell me what you want" Samantha said, her fingers moving a lot faster now as she curled them, hitting a spongey spot in the blonde that made Georgia's finger nails deepen in her skin.

"kiss me" she whispered. Samantha didn't have to be told twice, her mouth found Georgias again kissing her senseless. the blonde felt like she was floating, the pleasure was too much and she could feel it begin to build in her lower stomach. "don't stop," she murmured against the girls lips.

Samantha didn't respond verbally but the palm of her hand began to hit the blondes clit harder as soon as she heard her. the squelching from in between her legs was loud and it was making her own body burn with an immense lust.

"cum for me baby" Samantha said against the blondes lips, the hand that was once on her shoulder disappeared in an instant and instead gripped the bedding tightly, her knuckles turning white from it. an obscene moan left the blondes lips causing Samantha to bring her mouth down to shut her up, the thought of any of her kids walking in was fucking terrifying.

the raven girls pace slowed gradually as the blonde began to catch her breath. she pressed soft kisses down on the blondes neck to help her come down from her high. a minute later Georgias hand reached down for the girls wrist to stop her from moving anymore, too sensitive for more.

finally Samantha pulled away and held her body up so she was at eye level with the blonde. she had a smile on her lips that she really wanted to hide but she felt far too giddy to be able to do so. Georgia found it cute making a smile to slowly form on her own lips. "rate that to ten" Samantha said and pecked the blondes lips. she chuckled, her eyes closing.

"really?" she asked in disbelief. was that really the first thing she had to say after what just happened.

"what? i would really like to know" Samantha responded slightly offended by the blonde.

Georgia sighed, "eleven" she answered making the raven haired girl grin widely.

"i knew it"

"that was your answer? not me literally cumming on your fingers?" she asked with a raised brow.

Samantha rolled her eyes with a smile, "language Miss Miller." she scolded playfully. the blonde rolled her eyes and reached for the girls hips, she helped her move her body so she was straddling her waist.

"okay, enough rating. it's my turn" she said with a small smirk.

if Samantha was being completely honest she thought Georgia would be too tired to return the favor which she wouldn't have blamed her for but seeing her take charge like this was fucking hot.

"are you sure?" Samantha asked anyway, she didn't want Georgia to feel pressured or like she had to do it.

"mhm," the blonde hummed and began to kiss the raven girls jaw. Samantha smiled at her, she reached for Georgias right hand a brought it to her soaking core. the blonde began to do exactly what she did and circled her clit softly.

her actions caused Samantha to grip onto the blondes shoulders for support, she could feel the blonde sucking on her neck. she had always had a no hickey rule, even with her ex but when it came to Georgia, she honestly could not care less. in fact, it kind of turned her on even more, just imagining the blonde marking her skin, telling the world she already belonged to someone else.

when Georgia felt like she was wet enough her fingers entered the younger girl with ease causing her to throw her head back and a soft moan to leave her lips. Georgia smirked against the girls neck and then sucked a lot harder on the skin earning herself another moan and a hard squeeze on her shoulder.

the blonde pulled away from her neck when Samantha moved her head back to face her again, she looked down at the blonde through her long eyelashes. her eyes were slightly dazed and she could feel the ac hitting her wet skin causing it to feel cold. the blondes fingers were a bit sloppy, they didn't exactly have a steady pace so Samantha began to move her hips instead. she wasn't sure how Georgia would react if she instructed her on what to do and she didn't want to ruin the moment in doing so.

"you feel so good inside me baby," Samantha whispered, dazed eyes staring at the blonde. Georgia licked her lips as she stared at girls lips, her words igniting something in her. the raven haired girl smirked knowing her words were affecting her and she leaned down to kiss her again. their lips were rough and their tongues were being shoved in each others mouths sloppily. she whimpered into the woman's mouth feeling the pressure building and building in her stomach. she just knew that wasn't enough. "curl your fingers" she whispered against the blondes lips. it took Georgia a second before she did as Samantha said making the girls forehead fall on the blondes. her lips were parted as she whispered out moans. usually she was pretty vocal, especially when it came to dirty talk but the blonde seemed to be really quiet and she didn't want to make her feel weird.

her own hand fell on her clit and she began to rub small circles on it to try and push herself to the edge, Georgia noticed what she was doing and quickly shoved her hand away, replacing it with her own. "don't stop," she moaned. she needed something to push her off the edge but there weren't many options, it's not like they ever talked about kinks and Georgia seemed very vanilla. she just hoped what she was going to say wouldn't ruin the mood, "want me to cum for you?" she whispered lowly, her voice raspy and dripping with lust. Georgia hummed and nodded her head, "say it," she said and gripped the blondes hair softly, she pulled just a little but then stopped herself almost immediately.

"cum for me" Georgia said softly and soon after the raven girl began to unravel. her eyes snapped shut, her grip tightening on the blondes hair and shoulder. Georgia didn't stop just like Samantha until the raven girl held her wrist. other than that the younger girl didn't move as she tried to catch her breath. her daze lasted a minute or so until she realized this wasn't a girl her age, this was Georgia and she could be weirding her out.

she continued to breathe deeply and moved herself of the blondes lap with slightly shaky legs, she reached for her bra and put it on without the blonde stopping her considering she was doing the same. it wasn't until she reached for her pants that the blonde finally spoke. "your leaving?" she asked a bit taken back.

Samantha looked at her, "do you want me to?" she asked. now that she wasn't dazed by lust and the adrenaline had began to slowly disintegrate it was as if she had been hit with a bucket of cold water.

the blonde chuckled with furrowed brows, "why would i?" she asked confused.

Samantha shrugged causing Georgia to shake her head and motion her over. the young girl walked over to the bed without another thought. she sat in silence as she watched Georgia get up from the bed and walk over to her closet, she grabbed some clothes for herself and put them on quickly. after she tiptoed to the bed and got under the blanket as well. her body was turned to face Samantha making the raven girl mimic her action. they were both on their side staring at one another. "do you want to spend the night?" Georgia asked softly.

that was definitely not something Samantha expected to come out of her mouth. she contemplated her answer, she could say yes, either way her mom thought she was going to stay at Matthews but at the same time what would happen when they woke up? she would have to sneak out the balcony in broad daylight, the only other option was the front door which was even more risky then the balcony. she shook her head, "my mom will ask questions." she lied.

the blonde nodded in understanding. "so.. your really into dirty talk, huh?" she asked making the other girl blush deeply. she turned onto her back and covered her face with her hands.

"please don't" she groaned, not wanting to feel embarrassed by what turned her on. that would just be humiliating.

the blonde laughed softly, "that's not a bad thing. i just didn't expect that from you" she said and placed her hand on the girls wrist to try and pry her hands off. it worked as Samantha slid her hand down her face and placed it on her chest.

"i just.. being super quiet is just boring." she shrugged, trying to justify herself which she shouldn't have to do and even Georgia knew that.

"hey i'm really not judging. you know your gonna have to tell me stuff like this otherwise i'm just gonna leave you high and dry" she said a lot more serious now.

somehow the only thing that Samantha got from that was the fact that there would be more times. she wasn't sure what she was expecting, a one night stand? she wasn't sure, maybe she thought it would be one though, she thought it would be just so Georgia got it out of her system. that didn't seem to be the case though.

"fine but you'll have to do the same," Samantha said and the blonde nodded.

"deal"

with the reassurance that Samantha hadn't embarrassed herself completely she finally turned back onto her side. "how was casino night?" she asked, she had grown so used to talking to Georgia every time they saw each other that now not doing it for one night seemed to be eating at her. her favorite parts of the day would be when Georgia would go on about her day.

"oh it was amazing, i did an auction and i put Cynthia's cake on there for like two hundred dollars without letting anyone else vote. she was so pissed.." Samantha listened with an amused smile.

#georgia miller x fem!reader #georgia miller smut #ginny and georgia #georgia miller #georgia miller x reader #maxine baker #marcus baker #safest in your arms series

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spacebarbarianweird · 2 months

Text

Sleepy

Summary: Tiriel persuades Astarion to drink the sleeping potion.

Technically it's just Astarion being very sleepy and Tiriel taking advantage on that.

Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)

Tags: fluff, post-game, named Tav, established relationship.

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

"Astarion!" Tiriel calls out for her vampire husband. "Are you there?"

The battle is over and Tiriel, feeling dizzy after taking at least two hits in the head, is looking around.

Two dead ogres. Three orcs. A gnoll that was too drunk to realize a raging barbarian wasn’t a good target to bite.

"Only my man can bite me," she pushes the body aside.

But Astarion is nowhere to be seen. He usually hides in the shadows protecting Tiriel from damage, but the moment it's over he comes back to her, hot with blood.

It's been like that for sixty years.

"Astarion!"

No response.

Maybe he's gone too far in the caves? But Astarion has a sharp hearing, he must have heard her.

She looks down and notices a bag probably stolen from an unfortunate victim. Tiriel kneels to open it and sees bottles filled with potion.

Three are broken and the fabric is soaked in a liquid of unknown properties.

And the fourth one...

Tiriel carefully takes it in her hands.

Angelic Sleep Potion!

The only potion that puts an elf to real sleep. It looks like molten gold and the bottle has two wings.

Then Tiriel sees him.

He stands in the middle of the field, silent and motionless. Tiriel can't see his face and she thinks he might be looking for something in the dark.

"Astarion, love!" She calls him. "Are you all right?"

No response again.

His armor is in rags, hair is covered in dry blood. He doesn't have any wounds – not anymore, at least, thanks to vampiric regeneration, but it seems he's received a lot of damage.

"Astarion?" Tiriel feels a knot in her stomach. There was a period when Astarion was such a mental wreck, she even doubted her devotion to him. But he got better with the years, setbacks became rare and now Astarion sometimes even forgets he lived those awful centuries of slavery.

Astarion makes a grunting sound as if something has stabbed him, before collapsing on his knees.

And then he yells.

His voice echoes through the caves. His yells become cries and then he just sobs grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

Tiriel sits beside Astarion and caresses his back.

"I am here, love, I am here," she plants a kiss on the nape of his neck and only then he stops trembling.

"I am sorry," he mutters, finally collecting himself. "Just... too much..."

"I see, you received too much damage, huh? Come on, you need rest."

Astarion needs help to stand up and then he just leans on Tiriel, unable to move by himself.

"Just... I don't know... it was like a flood. The ogre hit me three or four times and I felt like I was going back to the dungeons, back to... whatever I was before..."

Tiriel tugs him closer.

It takes them the whole night to return back to Backford Crossing – a small town close to Luskan that became their home twenty years ago, after they'd left Daggerlake. It was nice to come back to the Sword Coast and besides Tiriel got her own adventuring guild. These are wild territories that are close to the Icewind Dale, and winters here are merciless.

Tiriel suspects many of her subordinates know too well Astarion is a vampire, but they are people who have a lot of secrets, too. Don't want to be interrogated about your questionable past in the Underdark? Don't try to learn if Astarion is a vampire or not. Besides, thanks to his age and satiation he perfectly imitates a mortal elf. Even his fangs aren't that visible.

By the time Tiriel closes the doors of their house, Astarion leans against the wall and she sees tears flowing down his cheeks.

"How bad was it?" She asks, helping him to undress.

"It broke my bones. As they mended in a moment, they were broken again. Cazador's favorite torture, " he manages to say.

It's the first time in decades since Astarion mentioned his master's name.

Astarion sits on the bed. He needs to meditate to recover but Tiriel knows he is afraid.

Trance will bring more horrors. Forcing him to relive his distant past.

Tiriel puts the potion on the bed table.

"I want you to drink it," she says. "I found it in the alchemist’s bag – its owner was eaten, I am afraid."

"No!" Astarion scutters aside, and Tiriel is afraid he will break the bottle. "I am not going to drink it!"

"Sleep will make you feel better! Trust me, non-elves renew themselves in sleep, it helps to forget horrors of the past day!"

"I am not a non-elf! My mind brings me horrors anyway and I know a lot about those uncontrolled, crazy dreams you have! No. Don't make me!"

Tiriel sighs, helping him to put off his trousers. Astarion is absolutely helpless and Tiriel has a funny flashback of undressing their daughter when she was little.

They look alike, Astarion and Alethaine. And Tiriel takes care of them both even when they are in their killing mood.

"Please, Astarion, don't be such a baby. It will make you feel better. You will just sleep."

"And what if I see nightmares?"

"You will wake up. And you will know they weren't real."

Astarion hesitates but then gets under the blanket and takes the bottle.

"Tiriel."

"Hm?"

"I will do it, but so you know, darling, I do it only because you ask! And I have a condition."

"What is it?"

"You stay here. All the time. Just don't go. I- I need you to be there when I am, in these...whatever."

"I am too tired to go anywhere. I will be here for you, don't worry," Tiriel kisses him and feels his hand on her back.

"You know, everyone who would see us would think we are supposed to grow tired of each other, not be these lovestruck fools we are.'' Tiriel giggles.

"You haven't gotten any colder, my darling, still as warm as you were when I drank your blood for the first time," he pulls away and opens the lid of the bottle.

"Hm, that first time when you drank my blood and then almost came in your pants?"

"Exactly that," he smiles while drinking the full bottle. His sight immediately gets sleepy. "And it wasn't nice of you to withhold the fact you saw me in the woods with no trousers on.''

Tiriel pushes Astarion down on the pillow, making him comfortable in the soft bed. He still needs a source of warmth and she plans to burn the fireplace and also sleep beside him for the whole day.

"My head is heavy," he complains.

"You are falling asleep, it happens to me every day. Sleep well."

"What do non-elves do when others... fall asleep...?" He closes his eyes allowing the potion to take control of his body.

"Leave them alone. Or sing them a lullaby."

"Can you...?" His tongue turns twisted.

Tiriel caresses his cheek and starts humming. She often sang this lullaby to Alethaine and there were a few months when the dhampir absolutely refused to go to sleep without hearing it. Though Alethaine is technically an elf, she still can’t meditate and sleeps like any non-elf, including her mother.

It's a song of a mother dragon who waits till her children hatch. She is ready to wait patiently for decades till it happens and before that, the little dragons can sleep comfortably in their eggs.

A pretty sad song if one thinks about it – because the dragon shall never see her children hatch, for she will be slayed by a warrior. Alethaine finally realized this after about four months, when she was five, burst into tears, and cried so loud Astarion heard it from the surface part of the town and they both spent the next few hours trying to cheer their daughter up. In the end, they all agreed Alethaine would grow up to slay dragon slayers and save little dragons – and with that, she finally agreed to go to bed.

Who knew Alethaine would have such a sensitive heart?

Tiriel caresses Astarion's cheek and sees he's asleep. She carefully undresses so as not to wake him up and gets under two thick blankets to preserve the heat.

Then, she hugs Astarion from behind pressing his back to her breasts and feels like falling asleep, too.

As she loses control of her thoughts Tiriel remembers the bite moment in every little detail. The fear that woke him up, a scared and embarrassed Astarion who appeared to be a vampire, begging her to let him draw her blood. She pitied him – all thanks to the tadpole that showed her all the misery Astarion's life was.

Another wave of fear as she realized Astarion wasn’t stopping. Tiriel violently kicked him, forcing him to let her go. His attempt to show his honest gratitude. How he then went to the woods, she thought, to hunt for more.

Tiriel felt the call of nature sometime later and left the camp only to catch a glimpse of Astarion leaning against a tree without his trousers and doing very clear movements with his hand.

For some reason, it didn't disgust her – more like intrigued. The very idea that the vampire fed on her and got that aroused somehow made her feel much better about herself.

The sentient blood made Astarion's body function properly. It made him desire things. It made him want her. At first, as a means to an end. Later, as someone much more than just a partner and a donor.

Tiriel plants a kiss on his shoulder. It was sixty years ago. Six decades.

Her thoughts wander further, to the night on the clearance. Astarion was so beautiful in the moonlight she jumped on him wanting him to become her first one. He never disappointed her, but Astarion still resents their first night – she can’t get into his head, but she knows his intentions and thoughts were far from pleasant that night.

It wasn't him. Not the real him. The real Astarion – the one buried deep under the trauma, violence, degeneration, torture, and rapes – woke up in the morning full of feelings he didn't know he could still have.

And Tiriel has loved this real person ever since.

Tiriel drifts away in her sleep still holding her husband in her arms.

Waking up is difficult – she's a heavy sleeper – and she realizes it's almost evening. She still feels too lazy and too comfortable to move.

Astarion is still in her arms.

She elbows up and sees that Astarion’s eyes are open. He is half-awake, in this dizzy state of mind when you can't make yourself get up, and time passes fast.

"Hello, darling," Tiriel kisses his lips as he answers her.

"Hmm," he mutters something and stretches his hands only to close his eyes.

She giggles. He is so much like Alethaine right now – their daughter is a heavy sleeper and Tiriel sometimes needs a lot of effort to make her get up.

But there was nothing sweeter than kissing a sleepy dhampir whose mind woke up but her will to fight didn't. So Tiriel would just smooch and hug Alethaine as much as possible before the dhampir finally got enough of that.

Tiriel starts kissing Astarion forcing him to murmur something. Then she hugs him, caressing his back and shoulders. She knows he is conscious but he has no strength and will to resist her.

And he is so beautiful.

Astarion's hair is messy. His body is relaxed, his mouth is half open and his face is a bit puffy.

"Such a sweet beautiful elf you are," she intertwines her fingers in his hair. "I am so lucky to have you."

He mutters something again and Tiriel kisses his neck. Then she traces it right to his jawline and puts two fingers on his lips.

Astarion’s eyelids get heavy again and he slips away back to dreams.

Well, it's his first time.

And when it's his first time he takes it fully.

Blood drinking? Tiriel almost died from blood loss. Sex with a loved person? She couldn't close her legs after that, and she had to take a bath to wash out the graveyard dirt. Freedom? Astarion stopped walking only when Tiriel was unable to go further without a rest. Marriage and relationship? Tiriel is the happiest woman in the world – when they lived in Daggerlake and raised their daughter other women would come to Tiriel half-joking about wanting to know where exactly she found Astarion. Fatherhood? Astarion spent every minute with Alethaine, making sure the dhampir was loved and protected.

When it's sunset, Tiriel comes to Astarion again and starts playing with his hair, waking him up.

"Hello darling," he mutters.

"Hello, my heart," she answers.

He sits up unable to focus his sight.

"Do you want food or a bath?" She asks.

"And what do you usually want after... such… a prolonged rest?"

Tiriel laughs.

"Usually I want to pee after being asleep for so long."

"My digestive system died with my heart and lungs."

"Well, then bath. I don’t know how it works for you, but no one can eat right after waking up"

"Aletaine can.'' He notices.

"Alethaine is a little half-undead monster I carried in my womb. For someone who is five feet tall and weighs eighty-eight pounds, she devours an ungodly amount of food. No wonder I felt so bad when I was pregnant."

"What did you expect?"Astarion stretches his arms and yawns. “You got pregnant by a vampire.”

"I didn't expect anything! You are the smart one, you were supposed to know!" Tiriel takes his hand and pulls him to the bathroom, turning on the pipe with hot water. "And now, I catch myself thinking, what if something bad happens to my daughter? And then, if something bad happened to her I wouldn't know that! Because who knows where she is right now! It makes me anxious and every time she comes back to us I want to lock her down and never let her go!"

Astarion submerges his legs into the water and smiles, baring his fangs. "Our daughter is a dhampir and a necromancer. Every dhampir we've met so far told us she is a very dangerous person to be enemies with."

Tiriel laughs adding some cold water to be able to withstand the heat. Then she gets inside too and takes the sponge to wash herself and Astarion.

"How was it?" she finally asks. "Your first sleep."

"It was nice, but I don't want to do this again. It was like being beaten with a heavy pillow and I couldn't get myself out of this slumber. It was nice and I feel much better but this is... still unnatural to me. Elves sleep only when drugged or severely beaten. Or when they are traumatized so much they can't trance anymore. And considering I still can, I don't want to know what elves are supposed to go through.”

"You are just a very strong person, Astarion, don't sell yourself too short.”

They spend hours in the bath, talking and washing and only then Tiriel finally makes herself get out – someone needs to deliver news that the poor alchemist was killed by ogres.

"I will prepare you dinner," Astarion assures her – another skill he learned over the years, even though he can never say if what he makes is edible or not.

Tiriel tries to do everything quickly. Deliver the news, assign the task to beat the shit out of the ogre tribe to the newest members of the guild, and then come back home to whatever Astarion is making for her.

When she approaches her home, she catches the delicious smell and her body immediately responds by making her move faster.

She is fucking starving.

But once she opens the door she hears a loud laughter.

"Alethaine!" Tiriel gasps entering the kitchen.

The silver-curled dhampir smiles wide, baring her fangs.

"I am moving to Fireshear," she explains. "Decided to pay a visit on my way there. And to pick up my old books."

Tiriel hugs her daughter and can't resist rubbing her ear. Alethaine is so delicate and thin but there is a dark strength in her, the power of dhampirism and necromancy. The young woman leans in, allowing Tiriel to show her motherly love.

Astarion puts the plates in front of his wife and daughter. It seems like Alethaine has been at home for some time – she wears a black dress Astarion always insists on keeping ironed and clean in case his princess comes to stay.

"I told your mother not to worry about you," he smiles. "You know that you should stab first."

"Are you staying for long, kitten?"

"I was thinking about a month or two, and then I sail north."

"Maybe three?' Astarion suggests. "I don't think it really matters when you get to this hellishly cold place."

Tiriel smiles. Alethaine was born in Uktar, the last month of winter — and should she stay for three months, they can celebrate her fortieth birthday.

Alethaine makes a weird sound that substitutes "sigh" for her – the dhampir doesn't breathe, almost like a vampire.

"Rather generous offer, how can I say no," Alethaine chuckles.

"Wake up, kitten," Tiriel enters her daughter's room the next day. "You've slept for fifteen hours!"

Alethaine makes a disgruntled noise from a heap of blankets she’s buried herself in.

The room is uncomfortably hot due to the fireplace and Tiriel can't understand how it's possible to sleep in such a warm place.

Especially considering Alethaine doesn’t have a vampire to hug.

"Alethaine, time to get up," she pulls the blankets away. The dhampir immediately curls in the fetal position trying to keep warm.

Tiriel caresses her cheek and kisses her. Alethaine is seepy like a cat – absolutely unable to do anything against Tiriel.

Tiriel makes her sit up and then hugs her. The young dhampir tries to get back to bed but her mother is adamant - too much sleep is as bad as too little of it.

Finally, Alethaine puts her feet on the floor. Tiriel giggles seeing her bed hair – the always composed dhampir looks like a drunk dryad.

“I am waking up, mum,” she mutters.

"So, how difficult was it?" Astarion asks, sitting on the front porch. The ledge protects him from the sunlight and allows the vampire to enjoy the day as much as possible.

"You know, that's kinda funny. She is almost forty – don't tell me she is a child by elven standards, you were a magistrate at her age – but I can't stop thinking that she hasn't changed much since she was four!"

"She didn't," Astarion smiles. "She is our baby princess and always will be. No matter how many armies of the dead she can resurrect."

Tiriel leans on astarion and receives a kiss.

She is happy.

No matter what the future holds for Tiriel the Barbarian, she will always be happy.

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeong @herdarkestnightelegance

64 notes · View notes

taegularities · 8 months

Note

hi, could you maybe write something for STARS BEHIND WAVES?

maybe about how they’re doing right now? (fluff, maybe suggestive?)

I really really love this story of yours:)))

Do you think you’ll write an epilogue someday?

(No pressure, i’m just really obsessed with this story)

Have a nice day/good night;)

fic: stars behind waves

pairing: jungkook x reader warnings: kissing, suggestive, his wandering hands and crude mouth lol, this is literally one of the softest couple i have and i love them so much, mention of fear of heights, oc is scared of a river :'), jealousy <3 pure fluff and bliss and love!! wc: 3.1k lol a/n: thank you for the request!! definitely one of my fav fics 🥺 i don't think i will be able to write an epilogue :( but rest assured, they're the happiest they can be. also, i really kinda love this lil drabble, so if you do, too, lmk hehe <3 a/n 2: i just found this in my drafts from when we were playing the amc game a couple months ago lol. hope you enjoy. is also unedited, so be gentle with me lmaoo <3

–

“Maldives.”

“God, no,” you reject, “sounds gorgeous, but. I can't deal with the heat anymore.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, fatigued from the unproductive day, but agrees, “Okay. Maybe you’re right. We’ve seen our fair share of…”

The last words turn into a mumble, drifting when his attention does. He scrolls on, big eyes glued to the bright screen. He’s been changing tabs for hours now; between travel destinations and booking sites, he’s exhausted himself.

Several three-digit-numbers have burned themselves into your brain from comparing a dozen vacations; planning such a thing is tedious.

You saved money for this. Working your ass off throughout the year, putting extra effort in overtime hours to visit a place you’ve only dreamed of thus far. Jungkook graduated, and you promised you’d steer towards an unforgettable summer.

His shifts at the bookstore were tiring, too. One too many times you called during lunch break just to meet a groggy voice. The late dinners at home transpired similarly quiet, his eyes similarly fatigued.

Then he’d cling onto you at night; he found your warmth solacing. Would tug you in, smack his lips. Yawn against your shoulder before slipping into dreamland, uttering a couple last mumbled “I love you”s and pouty, whiny “Don’t wanna work”s.

Summer couldn’t come faster.

But so couldn’t dinner.

“Maybe we should think about it another time,” you say. “I’m getting hungry.”

Jungkook drops the attached laptop mouse dramatically, shoving it away as he leans back on his chair and declares, “Thank fuck. I’m starving.”

“Should’ve just said something.”

Dinner is relieving to the two of you; having used up all words for today, you eat in peace, each enjoying your meal. Jungkook, reaching for his glass of water, looks up at you once, bowl half empty.

His eyes land above your clavicles, right where the charm dangles. Sparkles. The stars he promised you almost two decades ago. He can’t believe it’s barely been two years since the summer occurred when he found you again.

Time has passed; the two of you reunited with ease.

Spending days and nights together doesn’t come without fights — occasionally, you snap at each other, reminding the other of lonely times, spitting words that soon turn into regret.

But those arguments, as natural as sunlight, pass quickly and give way to comforting words, lips on scarred cheeks, hands over warm bodies.

Even when you were younger, you’d make up softly, comfortably. Would apologise and seek an unknown spot on the island, starving for a distraction. You’d find yet another shell without pearls in it; would try to make things right.

Jungkook remembers one day particularly well; surprising how well it fits this very moment.

Back then you’d hiked up a hill, dizzy in the damp summer heat. You cursed at Jungkook for dragging you along when you’d suggested an effortless, pleasant afternoon at the small market.

Halfway through your journey, you feared you’d gotten lost. You didn’t meet people anymore. The forest grew more tense. You kept your eyes and ears open for snakes or bears or whatever might linger here.

You only felt a sliver of hope when you heard water splashing nearby, hoping it was a lake or the ocean. But what you found instead filled you with far more discomfort.

Not because the river that you found on top wasn’t very narrow or harmless. Neither because it ended in a waterfall that fell for quite a while and then continued the same river, meeting the ocean somewhere.

No, you felt terrified because you knew what Jungkook would want to do.

“Let’s go back,” you immediately blurted.

But he was already on his shit, shaking his head with a twinkle in his dark eyes. You pulled at his tee, ready to turn at your heel and roll down the hill. Jungkook, however, pushed your hand away, freeing himself from your touch.

“No. Let’s cross this.”

You knew it. He was bold and idiotic enough; an adrenaline junkie the way you couldn’t be. Even cliff diving took you a good while to tackle and then longer to get used to. He taught you and kept doing so every year, because you’d enter the island with a newfound fear of heights each time.

“Uhm,” you said, raising your hands in defence, “I do not think so, dude.”

“But loo—”

“No. *No, I—”

You were so close to the edge, though probably not enough for the current to pull you in. Maybe you just hallucinated the proximity, too. Because thinking about it in hindsight, there was probably nowhere that much of a danger for you.

But you still weren’t ready to die yet.

So you ripped your eyes open further, panicking a little when he stepped into the water along with his terrible crocs. You clamoured, voice higher than ever, “What the fuck are you *doing?”

And maybe you would’ve kept your stance and ran away if he didn’t smile back at you like you were nowhere safer than with him. A reassuring grin, secure and certain.

You guess you were already hopelessly in love with him then. Not to mention that you still constantly lost yourself in the kiss you’d shared on your porch this spring. Your very *first kiss…

And you still craved more ever since. Only, Jungkook had never given you more after that.

It didn’t help when he held out a hand, remaining teasing yet sweet with a tilted, crooked smirk. His stance, firm in the water, lured you in although you definitely weren’t one to be risky like this.

But somehow, he could still convince you. Forced a frustrated sigh out of you, pulling you in like a magnetic force as you neared the river. You could see the other side not too far from you, but in your fear, the distance seemed endless.

“C’mon. We got this,” he promised, his voice drowning in the sounds of the current. “If we die, we die together.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shit, you really think you’re poetic.” You climbed over a rock, taking off your shoes, holding them in one hand as the other clutched his fingers tight from the first moment, like a reflex. “You watch too many dramas, gosh.”

He held you in a careful grip. You were smaller then, and his seventeen-year-old body, a strong result of regular gym sessions, withheld the water far better than yours. You, as opposed to him, almost dropped to your knees wading forwards.

You stepped on a somewhat sharp rock under the white waves, but he wouldn’t let you drift away. His attention remained on you. Halfway across, he said, “Here.”

He took your arm and pulled you close, slinging it around his torso, enabling a stronger grip. He was an ass and gentle friend at once — because he scared you on purpose a moment later, acting as though he was slipping.

And just when you yelped once more, watching him squint an eye at the volume, you swore at him thoroughly. You mewled words you hadn’t heard in your voice before, and he laughed, stating, “That reminds me of a school trip.”

“What,” you panted, out of breath, “goddamn school trip.”

“We went to a climbing park, and like… this girl,” he sucked in air through his mouth, tired, too; and you held your breath, “this girl from my class was literally trembling. I— I helped her over a distance until she felt secure. But…”

He groaned, struggling a bit. Or maybe he just acted like he did, you didn’t know. You were more focused than before, that was for sure.

“She was screaming just like you,” he finished.

Suddenly, you weren’t that frightened anymore.

You even forgot that you’d feared death just a moment ago. Your chest burned green.

You asked, “Right. And… and you were holding her like this, too, huh?”

“Kind of.”

“Cool. Co—”

You were out of balance. One blink passed, and you tumbled, immediately digging your nails into his shirt and his skin. His hands saved you as you placed your free fingers onto a stone automatically, one shoe sliding off your fingers.

The river carried it away from you until you couldn’t see it anymore, and you furrowed your eyebrows, mouth wide as you yelled, “No!”

“Forget it, we just need to move!”

“It wasn’t me who fucking suggested this!” you snarled, gritting your teeth.

Your knees shook. You stared ahead — just a couple feet more.

“I got you,” was all he answered, “almost there.”

And when you finally were, you were still cursing, pushing his body away. Under your breath, you murmured a dozen words, and Jungkook, wiping soaked hands at his shorts, couldn’t stop chuckling.

His hair was damp, outrageous when he pushed it back, but it couldn’t distract you this time. Instead, you threw your remaining shoe at him, watching him dodge it with an amused wide grin.

You couldn’t be bothered with his jokes; he was being irritating. There was literally nothing over here. Who knew if there was a way to get off this hill from here at all.

Knees still liquid, you targeted a tree and took a seat underneath it. You caught your breath, observing him as he sniffled and picked up your shoe. You felt empathy for his shorts; he still dragged his hands over them, leaving dark, wet stains.

Then, he dropped down next to you. Nudged your shoulder and said, “Come *on. That was fun.” A beat of a pause as you moved your head to glare at him. Then, “Don’t look at me like that!”

“*You,” you started, face close to his, a finger pointing at his chest, “were almost gonna organise a funeral.”

“Please. Nothing was gonna happen to you.”

“No. Your *own.”

He laughed again. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up.”

You exhaled. In truth, it hadn’t been that bad. Looking at the river from here, you truly were far enough from the edge, and the water had barely reached your knees. But the thing he said…

You searched for a way to make things less awkward; to not let him know that you were seething with envy. A harmless question came to mind, subtle as you inquired, “Was I at least a little braver than that… classmate?”

He lifted his head in thought, humming.

“Hmm. No.” Your shoulders slumped. How rude. “Hard to judge, though. It took us only a few minutes here, and it took her *hours to cross the climbing park.”

You didn’t tell him that sometimes, you were supposed to take hours. Not everybody was as athletic as him. Hmph.

“You helped her all this time?” you asked.

“Half of it at least.”

You shouldn’t have been jealous. Not bothered by how casual he made it sound, how he nodded… it was all whatever. But also—

“And then?” you dug. “You drove back to school and acted like you hadn’t just bonded?”

“Uhm…” Your heart dropped. Typical first love, typical first frustrating feelings. Your young heart was a lot more feeble. “Something like that.”

But you understood.

“Oh, Jeon…”

“It was just a kiss after lunch, okay. That day, and never again.”

Ah, you hated this. So he could kiss someone else, but not you aga—

No. Stop. What dumb thoughts.

“Okay. Good for you,” you told him, back to your prior tone.

Damn it.

You stared at the abandoned shoe between the two of you.

Shit, how were you gonna go back with one of your initially two Nikes on your feet? He’d have to carry you. At least you put both your socks in the one shoe you didn’t lose…

“Don’t act that way,” Jungkook spoke through your thoughts, patting your knee, “it was a lot more fun with you. She kept saying she wanted to go home and that messed with my own experience.”

“And yet, you kissed her.”

“Yeah, well. Happens.” He rolled his eyes. His voice was still casual and soft; perhaps he didn’t notice the storm in your pupils. “But I’ve had better kisses.”

Or maybe he did notice. Maybe that’s why he was saying that.

You hoped for a certain answer, but still tried, “Oh? Have you kissed more girls since spring?”

Oops. Okay, you didn’t want to ask so explicitly. But up until spring, he had never kissed anyone. And your heart fell into your ass, shoulders relaxing when he admitted, “No. Just her.”

Your eyes were wide now. You ogled at him, and then down to your drying legs again. Suppressing a smile, you nodded; and when you stared up at him anew, he was watching you intently.

Carefully, with tenderness in his gaze.

And he was close. You were half certain he’d kiss you again because for the tiniest moment, his eyes flitted down to your lips. But to your chagrin, the day and summer ended like this — mouth untouched.

He wouldn’t do more until years later.

Instead, he said, “I guess that was the last thing we still had left, right? Think I know this island inside out by now.”

“Probably,” you said, your voice hoarse. You cleared your throat, swallowed. “Would be cool to explore more with you, though. Outside this place, I mean.”

But once again, you couldn’t foresee that it’d be your last summer together for a long time. That you wouldn’t meet the boy bringing you the stars until you had hurt and broken enough.

And he didn’t know either; of course he didn’t. Because soon he promised, “When we’re older and richer, I’ll take you to the mountains. Okay?”

You giggled, unaware of the future. Naive and thinking you’d never separate from him, that you were destined to stay together — as friends or whatever else fate wrote for you.

So you hit his chiselled chest just lightly, telling him, “You’re gonna make me fear heights again, Jeon.”

“Nah,” he rebutted, “I’ll show you the clouds,” he pointed to the sky you couldn’t see, hidden behind the branches and leaves, “from up close.”

“Hmm,” you voiced, “the stars aren’t enough, huh?”

“They shouldn’t be. Strive for more and stuff, right?”

Right…

For a couple seconds, you just looked at him. Nodding a little, smiling, probably lovesick with hearts floating in your eyes.

Eventually, you lifted up your body, getting to your feet with a hand against the tree. “Okay,” you finally agreed, “mountains then.”

–

The charm glimmers in the light. It flashes Jungkook a little, and he blinks, moving his gaze up to your face. You’re finishing up the remnants of your soup, bowl tilted, getting to the last drops.

But your movements are slow, and you’re quiet… and he wonders whether he stayed silent for too long, too.

He calls your name softly, meeting curious eyes. His heart immediately pounds, and he says, “I was just thinking of something.”

You smile. “Figured. I was, too.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You first, though.”

“Hmm.” He lets the spoon drop, looking at the empty bowl, and then suggests with folded arms, “What do you think of the mountains this year?”

You raise your eyebrows. Look at him as if you understood. As if you recognised where his mind wandered to, and where the source of this idea lies.

And then, you prove that very point when you ask, “Were you remembering the waterfall incident?”

His lips form an O, expression sickeningly sweet and surprised.

“Were you, too?”

“Just a little. Since we said we don’t want any heat this year.”

He puffs out a breath; a slight, disbelieving shake of his head follows. Then, he simply says, “Sick.”

You kiss your teeth, nodding along. “You did promise back then. Mountains, I mean.”

“I did. And we can still totally go.”

“I’d love to.”

A brief silence envelopes the room. The pause is pregnant, the air lighter than before; and then he breaks the stillness.

“Hey… you gotta admit. You were jealous, weren’t you?”

His voice harbours playfulness, but his eyes hold a glimmer of curiosity. You can’t help but chuckle; thinking back to it, your pout was hilarious. Troubles used to be different back then — your younger self wouldn’t have survived opening the door to a half naked friend. Jungkook, toned chest out, right behind her.

A crazy summer indeed.

“You kissed me that year,” you say, “and then you kissed someone else. Teenage me was going *through it.”

You scrunch your nose, and when he does it in the middle of a laugh, too, you lose your cool. Might be due to the bunny teeth flashing. The sweet crinkles around his eyes.

But you lift off the chair, hurriedly rounding the table, lean over his body and sandwich his face between your palms. You don’t waste another moment — connect your lips quickly, mouth moving against his.

He lets out a tiny sound of surprise, but doesn’t reject you. Instead, his hands wander to your waist in reciprocation, dropping to your hips and then to your—

You gasp, tongues intertwining eagerly; you taste the freshly eaten dinner. Your keen hands hold onto his dark locks. He breaks the kiss only to get to his feet, pulling you close to his body. His head tilts, the kiss deeper. Fingers cradling the nape of your neck.

And then, as he sucks in some air, he whispers, “What was that?”

“Just…” You inhale. “Catching up. Doing what I should’ve done back then.”

“She says as if I don’t kiss her *all the time.” Soft peck against your lower lip. “Or as if I wasn’t just inside her this noo—”

“You’re so obscene, Koo.”

He snickers. “Alright. Now that we know what we want to do,” his breath is warm against your skin; you shiver, “we can book the vacay a bit later, too, right?”

Breathing is hard, speaking even more.

Your lips are parted, yearning for more. You’re irritated by the layers of clothing between the two of you — which is why you’re quick to agree, “Not opposed to a break.”

“Also,” he continues, his eyes locked onto yours, voice tinged with anticipation, “just so you know. Our kiss *was way better than whatever I did with Jiae.”

Another soft laugh escapes your lips; the name is insignificant for you. The intoxication of the moment matters; him and you. But you still jest, “Didn’t need to connect a name to that memory.”

His chuckle matches yours, voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you, you know?”

And that’s all he breathes for the next hour. Genuine confessions, tender praises — your name.

So often that you soon forget any other in the world — beyond continents and oceans.

–

liked it? then let me know!! 😁 and if you haven't yet, feel free to read the full oneshot that this drabble's a "sequel" to, as well <3

#*amc #notes for rid 🌹#anon #fic: stars behind waves #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut

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mybworlds · 2 months

Text

Chapter 2: You're lost in a trance

Title: The Mermaid of the Narrow Sea Pairing: Oberyn Martell x F!Reader (no Y/N) Chapter summary: Meereen, you and Prince Oberyn begin to know each other Masterlist Rating: M Series warnings: age gap, slavery, sexism, praises, violence, blood, death, alcool use, arranged marriage, slow burn, smut, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, rape attempts. Extra warning: a vicious brother (oc), Ellaria is a jealous woman in this story. Before to start... thank you very much for your likes and reblogs, if you want to let me know what you think about, I'd love. Today it's been 10 yrs of our beloved Prince Oberyn, time flies. If you want to be added to my taglist let me know.

Taglist: @christinamadsen

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics and chapters

thank you @idontgetanysleep for dividers

You feel as if you are immobilized by his eyes, his gaze, you saw so many eyes on you, eager gazes, and you always felt disgust and revulsion toward those kinds of men so much so that you never trusted any of them, but the gaze of that Prince bewitched you, totally. He wears a robe full of strange symbols in the shape of the Sun, maybe it's a coat of arms.

"Is she a slave?" the young man asks, taking a step toward the other man who nods "The slave my brother wanted?" he asks again for confirmation, his tone of voice surprised almost as if he didn't expect you really were.

"Yes, my Prince," the second man confirms again. Both men look at you, or rather, the young man stares at you, he does so from head to toe, he has an amused look on his face, as if he is thinking about who knows what, as he scrutinizes you.

The man comes back to look at you, you look into each other's eyes, you can't look away from his dark ones, it's as if you are studying each other, you don't speak nor does he move, but you know he would like to touch you, by now you recognize those looks, that's all men think about.

"You're beautiful." he tells you, approaching you with a smile, you furrow your brow as if you are waiting for the Prince to reveal his true nature a few moments from now, namely that of a sleazy little man ready only to satisfy his primal needs and overpower the weaker. He's close, too close, too close, you take a step back blinking your eyes, you don't want him so close to you, you don't. The man stops, he's surprised, you catch this nuance in his eyes, he turns to the elder "Does she understand our language?"

"Yes, my Prince," he replies.

"I don't want to hurt you," the Prince tries again, but you take another half step back. You end up against a wall of that dingy place, your back to the wall, and you swallow without ceasing to stare in particular at the man next to you and without losing sight of the second one either. The Prince turns to the elderly man, "Please bring some food and water and order a bath to be prepared, clean. I don't want a tub full of lice, clean." orders the Prince in a calm tone, barely turning his head toward the man behind him. The latter takes his leave with a half bow and goes out, closing the door, only the two of you remain, you and this young stranger.

"I don't know how you've lived so far," the Prince begins without ceasing to look you in the eye, "but I won't hurt you," he continues, neither touching you nor trying to, and that works in his favor.

You find yourself thinking and lowering your gaze for a moment, "Do you have a name?" he asks without looking away from your face.

You are not my master, though, you think.

You nod slowly, "Would you like to tell me? I promise I'll make good use of it," he adds curious. You lower your gaze, your name... oh, you barely remember it, you barely remember how your mother murmured it when she cradled you in her arms to fall you asleep, the last time you heard it came out of her sweet lips, it sounded like a melody said by her, then no one called you by your real name anymore, only by your current nickname.

The man cocks his head to one side waiting for you to speak, you do. It's a whisper your real name, by now you don't know who you really are, you don't know why you told him, to that man, to a Prince especially.

"No one, however, calls me by my real name," you add, still in a whisper, "they all call me Mermaid of the Narrow Sea," you continue.

Do you have to give him curtsy? You've never done one, does he expect it?

"I prefer your name," he replies with a half-smile and then repeats it softly, you don't know why said by him your name sounds so warm, you don't know why hearing it pronounced by someone like him makes you cringe and swallow "things and people must be called by their names, not by qualities or appellations, I never liked that. I am Oberyn, even though everyone calls me Prince Oberyn." he introduces himself, you look at him.

"No curtsy, if that's what's bothering you," he continues again as if he read your mind "People have to do what they want, not what they have to by some form of compulsion." he adds lowering his gaze for a moment, at that time three beautiful maidens burst in with golden bowls, there is food inside them, lots of it. You don't know what kind of food is, but what doesn't escape you are the languid looks of the three young women, almost certainly prostitutes, and the Prince.

He may fill his mouth with fine words, but he's still a man, you think with disgust.

"You are wonderful, girls," says the man reaching out them and looking them as a lion would when faced with easy prey, the girls giggle. You refuse to watch those shows, you still don't really know what will become of you, it's true the man told you he won't hurt you, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to make you his own and make you like one of those girls he is now touching or maybe it will be his brother - your master - who will do it. You can't trust him, you hear some more laughter, then the three young women leave and you are alone again, you and him. You don't move, you stay in that corner. "Are you hungry?" you nod "Come." he continues, extending an arm as if inviting you to join him.

If he expects you to get on that bed and give yourself to him to thank him for the food, he is wrong.

Is he mocking you, perhaps? Does he want you to imitate him? Absolutely not.

When he realizes you don't reach him, he turns his back to you and lays on the bed on his back leaning on a forearm. You see him bite into those foods with a grace and sensuality that you are forced to look away, swallowing.

There's so much strange-looking, colorful food, you've never seen anything like it. It even smells good!

You don't even know what it is, you approach slowly as if to probe the ground and make sure you can turn around and hide in that corner, he just stands there on the bed grumbling after each bite, it must be good or maybe he's just exaggerating to try to get you to relax.

"It's okay, come on." he repeats as if you were a small animal afraid to get too close to a human being, you look up from food at the Prince who is there on the bed with his legs stretched out eating. You get close enough to grab in both hands what you can and run back to the corner without ever turning your back on Prince Oberyn.

You bite a yellow grape and it is sweet, so sweet. A little whimper escapes your lips, you bite another and another, when you look up you see that the young man is looking at you with an amused look, you look at him with a suspicious frown, "You have to spit out the seeds, don't eat them." he warns you, you look at the grapes you still have in your hands "You can eat them, but they alter the taste of the fruit a little." he adds. You keep eating them, ignoring what he just said, then you move on to an orange fruit, it's soft, strange. You smell it and at that moment the Prince comes down, you immediately run back.

"Don't be afraid," he tells you as he approaches you, "I just want to show you how to eat that fruit in your hand." he adds, "If you bite it like you did before, you risk breaking your teeth or choking. " he warns you, you don't know whether to be more terrified at the idea of having him come near you or the idea of choking, you swallow and remain motionless, your eyes wide open, as he very slowly approaches you, "Here you go." he says splitting the orange fruit in his hands, revealing a large, dark stone inside, you swallow "See?" you look up into his face "Here, eat it."

"You eat it!" you reply suspiciously.

He smiles, "Whatever you say, sweetheart." he says removing that stone and biting into the orange fruit "Delicious. I'll give you the other half." he says again holding out the other half of the fruit in the palm of his hand, you look at the man's tapered hand outstretched toward you and only then you notice a ring to his hand, then the man's face, his features, his eyes, and you don't feel like he's there ready to attack you, but you can't trust him. He is a man.

Quickly you grab what is left of the fruit from the palm of his hand and eat it, eat it without taking your eyes off him. You fear there is some trick on his part, some attempt to get you to drop your guard and then hit you, but he does nothing. He doesn't move, just smiles without stopping looking at you.

"Good?" he asks you, you nod "Good." he comments smiling at you, he definitely wants to try to calm you down, but you can't "I'll take you over there now, you can trust me. The girls will help you wash up," he adds taking a half step toward the door "I'll walk you, I'm not going in, I'll wait for you outside," he adds again.

"Why?" you ask him wrinkling your forehead.

"Why what, my dear?"

You remain for a moment interdicted by these appeals he is giving you, "Why would you accompany me? Are you afraid I will escape?" you ask him, he smiles amused as if you have just said something very funny.

"Although the idea of seeing my brother without his toy amuses me, I do so because I fear you might attack anyone outside of me," he replies.

"Who says I don't attack you too," you say staring into his eyes.

Toy? So, is that what you are? Is this how Prince Oberyn sees you?

He also looks you in the eyes "Because I can tell who wants to do it from who doesn't." he retorts, leaving you dumbfounded "Now, my girl, come." he adds, opening the doors and stretching an arm outward "Follow me. " you follow him half a step away, you could run away, but you are as if hypnotized by him, and yet he is only a man you tell yourself, he is only a Prince, he is no better than others, but nevertheless you can't help but feel captivated by his elegant and sensual ways, his bewitching gaze, his warm and safe voice.

He leads you up to a semi-dark room, you are always on the alert, you don't know what dangers may lurk in that room, but you discover that inside there are four women, a large tub in the center and then jars and sponges all scattered around there.

The women greet and lasciviously look at Prince Oberyn winking at him, the Prince is no less. He smiles and looks at the women as if he is ready to eat them, he walks up to them and holds two of them close to him "Girls, I entrust you with this wonderful flower, take care of her as you know how." he tells them, while one sensually caresses his cheek and the other instead wanders a hand down his back.

The Prince then turns to you, "Don't be afraid, they will be as delicate as feathers." saying that, he takes his leave of you and exits. He'd like to see you without any clothing, he'd like to admire your body, the soap on your shoulders, on your back, he'd like to smell the perfume spreading along your body, he'd like to admire your legs, but he sensed that you would not at all like his presence there in that room, so, before he was driven out of your sight, he took his leave. He would give you time to get used to his presence, he was the one who - despite the fact that of women and men he had known - is very impressed by your frightened and hurt look, just as those strange thoughts were making their way through him, he hears from inside the room a series of strange noises and then little muffled cries, Oberyn smiles, he's sure you are giving those four poor girls in there a hard time.

His, however, is a fleeting smile because shortly thereafter he wonders why he is so patient toward you, on other occasions finding maidens intimidated or too shy he'd dismissed them and sought pleasure and amusement elsewhere and instead your eyes, your terrified look in his presence - and also in his absence apparently - struck him. As he thinks about this, he decides to devote himself to something that can help him distract himself and immediately put aside the thought of you.

He does not know and yet he is so eager to find out and especially to see how you would give his brother a hard time. His brother ... well, if Prince Oberyn was a much-loved, respected and at the same time feared man, his brother Mors was neither respected nor loved, but everyone was terrified of him. Prince Oberyn and his brother Doran managed to a certain extent to control his madness, even their sister Elia managed to keep him at bay to a certain extent, but since she was gone, no one could control Mors Martell anymore. He became an instinctive, violent man, and not only with the servants, even with his family members and grandchildren, everyone was afraid and that's why they kept him away.

She is just a slave, thinks the Prince, what is so special about her?

Oberyn wonders what he would do with you, what he wants from you, how he would treat you, when you would calm down, he will talk to you about him, you must know who his brother is, you must be ready for anything.

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mellowwillowy · 7 months

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WOWOW OMG WAIT. ur into dol too!!!

what do you think ur ocs are like in a dol like setting? like uhmm their stats and stuff yk like averys rage and like an example maybe blue would have a stat for anger

how do u think they will interact w the other canon love interests too??? would yulian hate dr. harper because harpers drugs might not go very well w the mind altering drugs he gives his darling????

AAAA I LOVE THE POSSIBILITIES SORRY

- bub anon 🫧‼️

Warning: suicide, physical and mental abuse

Yulian

Yulian's love stat will be maxed out immediately the moment you trigger a meeting with him! It will never go down even if you piss him off so many times BUT I'll have to add a new stat for him, let's name it 'Control' ...?

If you annoy him by doing something dumb or anything that causes harm to yourself, the stat will go up~~

Control 20 - Yulian thinks you are indifferent.

Control 40 - Yulian thinks you are wild.

Control 60 - Yulian thinks you are too wild.

Control 80 - Yulian thinks you are a brat.

Control 100 - Yulian thinks you should be caged.

Take him like Avery, always giving you money but he ends up buying you off from Bailey if the Control stat reaches 100. Starting from here, you'll only have 2 choices.

To get the 'Stockholm Syndrome: Yulian' achievement or always tries to escape. You can escape only if your physical and skulduggery levels are high. That said, you'll have to live undercover in the town and always get the 'You feel like someone is following you.' warning.

(You are not safe in the forest too because he also has his men guard the whole place)

If you get the stockholm syndrome achievement, you'll be wed to him and live a happily ever after life <3

"This way you will not do anything foolish that could cause harm to you anymore dear."

Blue

In order to trigger a meeting with him, you'll have to visit the club with the trauma, stress stats reaching 75 and the fatigue stat being at least 1200, and control being at least at the state 'You are worried'.

With this stat, you will be able to get the option to dress as someone else or not. Should you choose to dress as usual, Blue will not appear in the club with his friends.

Then, the alcohol/drug stat reaches at least 70.

You will then be notified of the option to approach this good-looking person and flirt with them.

Blue will first dismiss you but if you keep on bothering him, he will drag you to the bar inside, having a chat with you there. Blue will notice how some of your appearances feel artificial, as though you are trying to hide your face or identity from the public. From this choice itself, you have already triggered the ability to make Blue feels interested in you. (If he isn't, you can't increase the love stat at all)

You can increase the +Love stats by listening to him rambling, being sympathetic, and joining him along by talking shit about the people.

Unfortunately, you won't remember how he previously looked after the day changes due to the alcohol/drug state you were in. You didn't get to ask for his numbers and name as well but he will soon be spawned into your class, introduced as the student who just came back from 'vacation'.

Although you will not recognize him as the person you were talking to in the club, he will not mention anything about it. Despite how different you look from your initial appearance, he will still be able to recognize you.

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Blue. Please take good care of me, yeah?"

Blue's Love stat is also maxed out immediately after you manage to capture his heart on the first meeting. Although it can go down, he will not end his relationship with you.

Eleanor

In order to trigger his appearance, you'll have to have Trauma, Stress, Fatigue, Control HIGH (90), and consume hallucinogens/drugs. (Yes I'm not joking.)

It is impossible to turn him into a love interest and he will have these rage stats just like Avery ^^

"You see someone who mirrors your appearance. Is she/he your twin?"

(Casually spills lore)

He will mostly appear in your room, taking care of you, or in the forest looking for valuable items.

There will be +Love and +Rage in his system. Should you enrage him too much, he will turn violent on you, increasing your Pain stats.

Should your trauma, stress, fatigue, and control stat be maxed out, you will find yourself drifting away from your sleep after overdosing on sleeping pills and straying into the unknown world, giving you a bad ending.

If you somehow manage to befriend/date Blue or Lemon beforehand, the possibility of you coming back will be 1 and Eleanor will never appear anymore.

Eleanor's dismissal events are:

Trauma, stress, fatigue, and control below average and to stop consuming hallucinogens/drugs if you are addicted to them.

To be saved by Blue or Lemon and wake up on the hospital's bed after ??? Times have passed.

Seth

There are actually two ways to trigger a meeting with him but since we are talking about DOL... I'll just take the latter.

Due to one thing and another, Seth has to be aged up since he is originally younger than Darling by two years. PC's age is canonically 18 so- (unless Darling is somehow above 20 then he'll stay true to his age)

You can meet him in the Arcade and initiate an offer to fight against him in a game. Starting then, you can always find him there on Wednesday and Friday playing from the time school has ended until 6 PM.

Once the Love stat has reached over 40 or above, he will sometimes offer you to play with him in a multiplayer game (maybe like Metal Slug), and when it reaches 70 or above, he will ask you if you want to play in his place.

Just pure Vanilla bun... I can't write anything about the transmigration because it's DOL.

(Ps: he's not a sulky player like Robin wheeze)

Relationship

Yulian, Eleanor, and Blue wouldn't even let you go any closer to Harper and all the shady bitches in the town.

Blue will always ensure you are free from that perverted ass Leighton.

Yulian will somehow ask for Bailey's assistance in capturing you.

Eleanor is always present in the asylum should you be sent there.

Yulian also has his hands on Quinn's dirt.

#Beeg Brained Moments because my brain shrinks when it comes to LIfE Project casts.#yandere dol #yandere x reader #LIfE Project #Yulian the Corruption #Blue the Boyfriend #Eleanor the Finale #Seth the Resistance #Theatric Guest

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aroaceleovaldez · 2 months

Note

do you have anymore rogue demigod headcanons? recently i've been thinking of my own rogue demigod ocs and trying to come up with ideas for them

BOY DO I

Okay i have a lot of very niche thoughts about how rogue demigods work and the sort of loose culture they have as a collective group. I'll go over the main thoughts I have and throw some bonus loose rogue concepts at the bottom of the post just for fun if anyone wants oc ideas. Below a cut cause i've thought about this a lot so there's. a lot:

Most rogues take the "names have power" thing a lot more seriously than campers do, since they don't have the protection of the camps to help them. As a result, many rogues go by "rogue names" or pseudonyms. Some chose their names on the spot, others slowly gained a name over time or were nicknamed by other rogues. Some may choose to not go by a rogue name, but many at least have one even if they don't always use it. Some rogue name hcs I have for specific canon characters include: "Hound" or "Hound of Hades" for Nico (cause hellhounds, also rogues making jokes about him being "the camps'/Olympians' dog"), "Rue" for Chris (named himself after Clarisse cause he missed her, though he's too bashful about it to admit it), Luke's was "Titan," and Hylla's being "Twice-Kill" is just canon. It's also fun to play around with how common some rogue names might be ("Wolf" and other animal names are definitely popular), how silly some might be (Just the first thing that popped into their head, their old street/town name, a famous actor or character, a youtuber's name/handle, cryptids, etc etc. "Ender" is also definitely popular. yknow. from Minecraft), and what stereotypes might be associated with rogue names/common rogue names. You can get real funky with it really easily. I'm personally a big fan of there being a rogue joke about people with animal-themed rogue names, just because of how common they probably are. It's probably rare that somebody earns an animal-themed rogue name from the collective community rather than just picking it themself. Also easy jokes about rogues sliding by with youtuber names or similar just cause most rogues can't access the internet, so they don't get the reference.

Almost all rogues knew about other mythologies/pantheons way before the camps did. It's a very open-secret type of thing. It's pretty impossible for them to not run into demigods from other pantheons living like they do. They just generally don't tell camper demigods about it, partially because it's sort of an unspoken rogue agreement to keep it secret from them for general demigod safety and also because most rogues don't like campers, so it's kind of a joke to keep them in the dark. Titan Army demigods were very well aware of both camps in particular.

The Amazons, Hunters, Circe's Sorceresses, and other rogue groups are also fully aware of this but don't ever mention it, even if they're camp-affiliated. The sorceresses just generally didn't run into campers enough for it to be relevant (and the campers they did run into probably never went back). For Amazons they're probably just too focused in profits to bother stirring up trouble by telling the camps about it. The Hunters probably don't mention it for the safety of the camps.

Camp Jupiter is very anti-rogue and hostile towards rogues in general. It's very rare that rogues are able to join the legion, and anyone who leaves to become a rogue is formally exiled and can't ever return. Most people who join the legion have to either be sponsored by a retired legionnaire family living outside of camp or just wholly directed to camp by a god (or representative of a god - see: Nico for Hazel). Rogues particularly hate CJ because of that. CHB on the other hand is perfectly willing to take in former rogues and there are plenty of ex-rogues in CHB who are fully aware of other pantheons. They just. Don't feel like ever mentioning it. Rogues are generally a bit kinder towards CHB because of their more open friendliness towards rogues, and will help direct new demigods towards CHB fairly often. They're still not fans of it most of the time, but they understand rogue life isn't for everyone and that it's safer, at least.

A lot of rogues take mercenary work, or other hired jobs. Technically this one is just kind of canon. See: Lots of TOA rogues, even some rogues from PJO and HoO are implied to have been hired by the Titan Army or Giant Army (or Octavian). This line of work is seen as totally legitimate to rogues, though there's a lot of different opinions within rogue circles about how it should be gone about. The most common opinion is that it's taboo to take or hire hits on those who run safehouses. Rogue safehouses are usually considered off-limits for any kind of targeting, and trying to target them is sure to ruin your reputation. Stealing or inter-rogue violence is generally considered on the table though. It's largely a lawless space. If you're particularly cruel or try to throw your weight around a lot though, you're sure to be ostracized by other rogues. Because of this, groups like the Titan Army who vocally advertised a lot of trying to make life better for rogues were popular, but other groups like the Giant Army or Tri are significantly less popular because they're seen as just power-grabs trying to hire extra muscle because they can't handle their petty squabbles on their own. Most rogues who joined the Giant Army or Tri were either indebted to them somehow or really desperate and willing to take more dubious jobs.

Norse rogues are actually significantly more common than Greek or Roman rogues, as they don't have any options for a camp to train at instead of living as a rogue, and get hunted down by monsters once they become old enough often regardless of specific parentage. Norse rogues are often more willing to take more dangerous work, as they hope it will either attract the attention of their godly parents to help them or if they build up reputation and die valiantly it will be enough to get them into Valhalla.

Safehouses are rare, but not unheard of. They're mostly just rare because their success rates vary wildly, and many try to build one but fail. The successful ones are often widely known in rogue circles, and there are some that are trade/gathering hubs to find work or restock supplies (and catch up on news). Most are considered peaceful zones, though there are some where combat is allowed, or may even have spectator sports like gladiator battles or etc where rogues can try to build up their reputations and notoriety.

Not every demigod benefited from Percy's deal that the Olympians had to claim all their kids - for some, they could have otherwise slid under the radar, but being claimed caught the attention of monsters and forced them on the run. Some got claimed in the middle of doing something in their mundane lives (with the gods doing some mass-claimings after the war) and had to run away on the spot, and resent Percy/CHB/The Olympians for it.

Free to use rogue demigod concepts:

Amazons and Hunters count as rogues! Anything with them is always fun. Ex-Circe sorceresses are also very fun.

Titan Army, Giant Army, and Tri rogues are also always very fun to play with.

Rogue satyrs, fauns, and nymphs! Or monsters/part-monsters, even!

Cursed rogues! Maybe they're part-monster, and/or the curse is part of them being banished/exiled somehow.

Rogues who run safehouses, or rogues who don't run safehouses but live there. What's their community like? How does it function? What are the rules there, and what's life like there? What's their role?

Think of a rogue name and then make a character themed around that. It's VERY fun I highly recommend it, especially if the names are leaning silly. Rogues stealing youtuber names, or their favorite anime characters, or some other pop-culture reference and hoping nobody notices. Rogue named Vriska or Sans or something. Rogues named after Pokemon. Get funky with it.

Rogues who work with monsters, or have alliances with them! How did their alliance come to be? Is it reliable? Why do they work together - what do either of them get out of it? etc etc.

Mercenary rogues, or other rogues who do hired work. Who are their clients, and what does their work entail? How does that impact their reputations?

Rogues who were revived with the Doors of Death. what were their lives like before they died? How did they die? How did they come back? Were they ever part of the Giant Army? What's their second life like?

Multiple generation rogues! Second-gen or third-gen rogues who were born into rogue life outside the camps but have always known about demigod communities.

Demigod who got claimed unexpectedly from the post-Titan War mass-claiming stuff and was forced on the run.

Norse rogues! Rogues from different pantheons! Or even rogue magicians! How do their lives differ from Greek/Roman demigods? What do they get up to?

#pjo #riordanverse #headcanon #headcanons #rogue demigods #Anonymous #ask #I LOVE ROGUE OCS!!!!! also love to see other people making them!#theyre so fun and versatile love those funky guys

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neowinestainedress · 2 years

Text

rose-colored glasses (all distorted) | lee jeno

title: rose-colored glasses (all distorted)

pairing: lee jeno x fem!oc/reader (no name used, written in third person) | mentioned: oc's brother!jaemin, lee haechan, park jisung

genre: bet!au, brother’s best friend, angst, smut, fluff (if you squint) | requested

summary: a long-lasting crush for her brother’s best friend, a bet, obsession, devotion and jealousy; all things that cannot lead to anything good. But the world that Jeno showed her was perfect and she couldn’t see what it really hid behind the rose-colored glasses. It was all distorted.

warnings: angst, manipulation, gaslighting, fights, jealousy, smut, fingering, oral sex (m and f), (semi) public sex (on Ferris wheel), pussyjob (i guess??), degradation, praise, dirty talk, unprotected sex, jealous sex, make-up sex, inexperienced!oc, feeling like tagging this dubcon bc of the heavy power imbalances (jeno is mean at the start and then he’s slightly possessive and she would do anything to have him in any way, do what you need to do with this information) but there’s always consent

words: 18.294k

a/n: i promise it’s a bet!au but with a darker twist. I enjoyed writing this even if it’s quite out of my comfort zone (please don’t make me write mean men anymore I need them to be himbo male wives) but as I said I’m happy with it so I hope the anon that requested it (and all of you) will like it anyway. This story has no intentions of romanticizing this kind of behaviour, if you realize you’re in a manipulative/toxic relationship please ask for help.

taglist: @wooyoung4eva @jenoxygen @sunshinedhyuck @kundann @jaeymark

Having a crush on her brother’s best friends was one of the dumbest things she could ever do. Especially when they had always been in two different leagues.

Jeno had always been the popular kid at school, after a few years of being a loser in middle school, he picked in high school and college. He was everybody’s first love, tall, charming, the captain of the basketball team, and he even had good grades.

She, on the other hand, was the opposite. Not a loser like the typical image of the silly girl with pigtails and round, big glasses who spent her days reading books. But still not popular enough to be at his level. She was reserved, she preferred minding her business and spending time with her few friends instead of living in the chaos of frat parties, or disco nights with people she barely knew. She was Jaemin’s sister but she couldn’t be any more different than him. Probably being his sister was the thing that worsened everything. Everybody expected her to be as cool as her brother, funny, cute and charming at the same time, but most importantly, not annoying.

And yet, all those differences didn’t stop her from falling for Jeno. It was rather impossible when he was always at their place. They grew up together. Sure, she was always a step behind, watching from the side, laughing at his jokes when nobody else did, reminding his birthday to Jaemin that never remembered, admiring him and cheering him silently for every accomplishment he made. But she was there, every day since she was ten falling for him deeper. By now she came to the conclusion it wasn’t just a stupid crush that was going to pass. Too many years had passed by and she still looked at him in the same, delusional, way. Even if Jeno never paid her much attention, no matter how hard she tried.

But it wasn’t like Jeno couldn’t see it. He knew she had a thing for him, he could see how she squirmed every time their bodies touched casually, or how big her lips curled when he greeted her and most importantly… rumors ran.

He knew. But there was something funny in keeping her on the edge, seeing that, somehow, the harsher he treated her, the more she came back, wagging her tail every time he acted just a little bit nicer than usual.

And his group of friends knew too, always joking about it when they all stayed at Jaemin’s place and he left for a few minutes, giving them the opportunity to talk about his sister that always found a way to go downstairs just to say hello. So they talked about her a lot, chuckling, joking, saying that overall she wasn’t that bad and maybe he could’ve given it a try. But all of them were a little bit too competitive. Jeno was sure that if he only gave her a bit more she would’ve fallen to her knees, Haechan believing that she was too proud and innocent to actually risk it for him, while Jisung listened, laughing, but not believing she would’ve given up so easily.

But Jeno was firm in his belief. He knew she was already his. But it was risky; she wasn’t just anybody, she was his best friend’s sister, and even if Jaemin never showed to care much about her, he knew it was still a dangerous game to play.

But Jeno was a player, and he loved risky games.

“What are you doing here?” She exclaimed when, turning around, she saw Jeno lean against her bedroom doorframe. “Jaemin’s not home.”

“I know,” he replied, shrugging and making his way in. “I wasn’t looking for Jaemin.”

She furrowed, trying not to panic over the fact he had never been so close to her with nobody else around. “Our parents aren’t home.”

He snickered, “I’m not looking for them, either.”

“Then who are you looking for?” Her voice betrayed her, shaking a bit, but she shrugged it off with an awkward chuckle.

“Damn, you are dumb, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“I’m looking for you,” he said, sitting on her bed, and looking around. “Jesus, you do love pink,” he exclaimed, almost with a hint of disgust in his voice.

“Can you tell me what are you doing in my room?” She asked, crossing her arms on her chest and standing in front of him, having no idea where she found the courage, and deciding to let the comment about her room fall.

“I’m throwing a party this weekend,” he explained, placing his hands behind him on the mattress, stretching his legs out and tilting his head to the side, “wanted to know if you were coming.”

She laughed awkwardly, shaking her head. “You are inviting me?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“You hated when my mom forced you to bring me along.”

“Yeah, because you were a loser back then and annoyed the fuck out of me.”

She gasped, staring at him in disbelief. “This is how you are inviting me to a party?”

“I said ‘were’, I think we can get along now,” he said, standing up, and leaning close to her. “Or am I wrong?” He whispered while his hand placed on her waist, making her move back in surprise, but he stopped her, gripping tighter.

She gulped, lifting her head, and stared at him. “You barely talk to me…”

Jeno smirked, caressing her cheek and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, maybe I want things to change.”

She swallowed, trying to keep her eyes on his and not on his lips, fighting the urge to lean in and kiss him. This meant nothing. Jeno never looked at her like that. So why would he start doing it now?

“Do you want things to change between us?” He asked, almost cooing, moving his thumb on her lips, grazing gently.

“Ye-yeah, I do,” she said, snapping out of her thoughts and pulling back, turning around to hide the big breath she was taking now that she wasn’t in his hold anymore. But Jeno knew it anyway; she always did that even when he barely touched her or stood too close to her for more than two minutes.

“Great, see you this Saturday, then,” Jeno smiled, winking at her before closing the door behind him.

Her heart was beating ten times faster than usual, and a grin was not leaving his face until he walked downstairs and saw Jaemin. That was going to be fun, but he needed to be careful.

The party wasn’t chaotic like the high-school parties he and Jaemin used to plan every time their parents weren’t home, it was mostly their closest friends and some other people she had never seen before. But the music wasn’t too loud, there was nobody already drunken or high, lying on the floor, and most importantly, there weren’t couples all over each other in the living room.

She found out later from her brother that it was an inauguration for the house Jeno just bought, finally free out of his parent’s clutches. But of him, there were no traces.

She had been wandering around the place for like ten minutes now, a drink in hand as she hummed to the music playing from the speakers. Pushing the black dress she was wearing down her thighs, regretting the choice every two seconds she took a step and it rolled a little bit more up on her legs.

“I was looking for you everywhere.”

“You scared me!” She screamed, turning around too swiftly and spilling the alcohol all over his shirt, gasping and biting her lips nervously when she realized what she had done. “I’m sorry, shit, sorry. I can help you fix that.”

“Enough,” Jeno stopped her, blocking her empty hand from touching his wet chest. “My bedroom, now.”

“Yo-your bedroom?” She stuttered as he dragged her upstairs, leaving the party behind. “What are we doing in your bedroom?”

Jeno laughed mockingly, pushing her inside. “We’re fixing the mess you made. Why? Thought I was dragging you here to fuck?”

She moved her mouth without letting out a sound, feeling shame creep over her face.

“Yes? Want me to fuck you, babe?” He asked, lifting her head up by the chin and smirking at her flustered face.

“I – no, why would I?” She chuckled awkwardly, pulling away. “If you get changed, I can clean it, and then I’ll give it back to you once it dried,” she said, bringing the topic back to his stained shirt.

“I have a washing machine here,” he said, hands moving to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, making her get lost in his toned chest and abs. She had never seen him so exposed, but she was sure as hell that he had never been like this before.

“Close your mouth,” he ordered.

“It’s closed,” she retorted, grunting but still diverting her gaze from him.

“Sure,” he chuckled, throwing the dirty shirt on his desk chair; he didn’t even care about the shirt, he just wanted to spend time alone with her. “Anyway, I need you to help me pick another one.”

“That’s why I am here?”

“Yeah, I told you, I don’t want to fuck you.”

“Stop it. I don’t want either,” she replied, biting her lower lip nervously and tapping her high heels against the floor.

Jeno studied her, another smirk curled his lips before he sighed. “Help me fix the mess you made so we can go to the party and have some fun.”

When they reached downstairs again, she had no idea how she was still standing on her feet, staying too close to him and helping him close the buttons of the new shirt he picked got in her brain. Jeno pointing out all her weird antics didn’t help her much at relaxing. And just when she thought she was free and could find a corner to dance alone and then run home and avoid him forever, she got dragged on the couches.

“We’re playing truth or dare,” Haechan chanted, making her sit next to him. “You can’t miss it.”

“Truth or dare? How old are we? Fifteen?” She asked, looking around at the others, hoping somebody was going to back her up.

“That’s why I never wanted to bring you along,” Jaemin booed, “because you’re boring.”

She wanted to talk back, but the hums of agreement of his friends made her shut her mouth and squeeze more in her place.

“We’re starting from the youngest,” Haechan said.

“Man, why always from me?” Jisung huffed, rolling his eyes, receiving a look from his friend. “Fine, truth.”

So they started playing, too many dumb dares and too spicy truths for her liking, but she tried to be likeable and don’t be a buzzkill.

“Truth,” she chose for the first round, fearing the question, already knowing it was going to be something embarrassing or something she couldn’t answer because it wasn’t like she had many adventures.

“Where was the wildest place you ever had sex?” Haechan asked, making her face heat up immediately.

“Dude, that’s disgusting, she’s my sister,” Jaemin whined, turning around and fake-gagging.

But she was standing still, wanting to die under the interrogating gazes of the others. “I… I only did it in a bed,” she confessed as her eyes skimmed all over the room to avoid the mocking smirks on the others’ faces.

“Wow, yeah, should’ve expected it from you,” he mocked, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

She bit her lip, nervously playing with the hem of her dress, until her eyes met Jeno’s. He was staring at her but she couldn’t decipher what he was hiding under his gaze or if his lips were turned in a genuine smile or a mocking one. But it didn’t matter… well, it didn’t until she had the brilliant idea of picking dare.

“Guess what, we’re hoping you can spice up your life in one night,” Haechan joked. “You have to play seven minutes in heaven with Jeno,” he said, turning around and winking at his friends.

She expected Jeno to gag or complain about the pairing, but he didn’t. He looked at her, stood up and then reached his hand for her to grab. She hesitated, looking over at Jaemin for approval, but she gagged instead when she saw a girl all over him.

“Come on,” Jeno urged her, making her drift her gaze from her brother. “I’ve got a brand-new closet to try.”

The walk to his bedroom was silent as she felt panic run in her veins.

“You know that it doesn’t have to be sex, right? You can also just talk while playing seven minutes in heaven,” she mumbled when he opened the bedroom and started walking to the closet. “Or we could do nothing, that’s also valid, you –”

“Will you shut up for a second?” He asked, turning around, stopping in front of her, pushing her inside before closing the doors behind them. “Great, so much better for my ears,” he huffed. “And, to answer your annoying questions, no, there’s no fun in that.”

“We can’t do that in seven minutes,” she muttered. “Also you said you didn’t like me like that, you said that just before, you-” When he shushed her with a kiss she felt her knees buckle and her heart race and it felt like a fever dream.

“That’s something that shouldn’t happen in this game, you know? No kissing allowed.”

“No kisses but sex yes?”

He chuckled, making her walk back, sitting her on a small white desk next to the wall, dress lifting up, barely covering half of her thighs. “Weird, isn’t it?”

She hummed, breath shaking when his cold hands ran on her naked thigh. “Wait, I’ve never done this.”

“I thought you said you did it in a bed?”

“I – I did but it was ages ago and it was…” she stopped, embarrassed, “it was bad.”

“Oh, yeah, not surprised,” he replied. “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know,” she whimpered when his fingers grazed her panties.

“I think your body trusts me,” he whispered against her neck when he moved the panties to the side and felt how wet she was. “Is this from before? Did seeing me half-naked got you like this?”

“N-no, why would it, mmh,” she stopped when his fingers started circling on her clit. “We shouldn’t – we shouldn’t –”

“Do this?” He asked, smirking and pushing a finger inside her, making her roll her head back against the wall. “I will make you come if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not your ex-boyfriend.”

“Jeno –”

“Shh,” he shushed her, lips barely brushing against hers, “you don’t have to hold it back,” he whispered, starting to move his fingers inside her wet pussy. “I know you want this so badly. You’ve been dreaming about my fingers for so long,” he cooed, smirking when she lowered her head in embarrassment. “It’s alright, baby. A lot of people would want these fingers buried inside of them… and you are the lucky one tonight.”

“You won’t tell Jaemin, right?”

He snickered, “what happens here is a secret, honey. Just relax, stop being so serious, that’s why nobody can’t stand you. You think too much.”

She was about to open her mouth again and talk back but when his two fingers curled inside of her and hit the spot that made her tremble, she could only try to hold in the whimpers and let her head fall against his shoulder.

“There,” he hummed, “so much better.”

“Mhh,” she mumbled, her hand reached for his other arm and squeezed tight, trying to hold onto something, “feels good.”

“I know, baby, I know. He didn’t give it to you like this, right?” He teased, moving his hand to reach for her hair and force her head up so he could look at her face, eyelashes fluttering and lips parted to let out low moans. “What about this?” He asked, adding a third finger and starting to move his thumb on her clit, eliciting a choked sob to roll out of her mouth and to open her eyes fully. “You like this?” He asked, but he knew the answer, she was dripping over his hand and her hips were rolling against his thumb searching for more friction.

“Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lips, nails digging into his arm when he started to move faster into her, making her try to close her legs, embarrassed by the lewd sounds of her wetness, but Jeno only smirked and forced her legs parted.

“No, pretty,” he whispered, “want to see you.”

“I think I… I’m close,” she confessed, feeling her body burn up and a new weird sensation build up in her stomach.

“You think?” He asked, tapping her cheek so she would open her eyes. “Oh… he never made you come?”

She nodded, diverting her gaze again, feeling the sensation intensify with every thrust of his fingers. “Mhh, it’s too much, feels – feels too good,” she whimpered, hips grinding against him, and lower lip bleeding for how hard she was biting on it. But Jeno couldn’t care, he knew she could take it, she simply wasn’t used to it, but he was going to make her get used to it. This was just a preview of everything he could give to her, a small window on the world he could show her.

“Come,” he ordered, “I don’t think we have much time. And you don’t want Haechan to hear you moan like a whimpering mess, right?”

She shook her head before throwing it back, feeling a new sensation rush over her, her stomach tightened and her toes curled in her shoes while her hips bucked up against him.

“No more, no more,” she whimpered, trying to push him away.

“Shh, it’s alright, baby, it’s alright,” he shushed her, thumb grazing her cheek. She blinked, trying to shake the dizziness out of her brain, eyes falling on his lips, wishing she could taste them again because the kiss of before was so unexpected that her brain didn’t even have time to register it.

And Jeno knew it, but he needed her to crawl back to him, he couldn’t give her everything just yet. He needed time, precious time, filled with tests and games that she needed to pass and then maybe she would’ve gotten to him. He couldn’t even care about that stupid bet anymore, if the time was ticking and he needed to get with her in two months, he wanted to have her in the palm of his hands and play with her like a puppet.

“I told you I could make you feel good like nobody else ever did,” he said, winking, pulling away, leaving her sitting on the desk, slowly realizing what just happened. “Like nobody else ever will,” he whispered, turning around, waiting for Haechan to call them down again.

She shouldn’t have felt special. She shouldn’t have felt the butterflies fly in her stomach just because Jeno touched her for a stupid game. Yet, she did. Jeno was the only thing that filled her thoughts for the passing weeks. When she was trying to work. When she watched a movie. And when her hands shily moved on her body, desperately trying to replicate the feeling his fingers made her feel.

But nothing came close to him. She needed him, every day a little bit more than the day before. But the more she craved him, the more he seemed ephemeral. She couldn’t reach him, she didn’t have his number, and she never dared to sneak into her brother’s phone to steal it. She already looked pathetic in his eyes, so she needed to win him in another way. She needed to appear charming in his eyes and make him fall for her for real. But she didn’t know what he liked, or well, the only thing she knew he liked for sure wasn’t going to make him fall for her. But it was something. And something was better than nothing.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll wait here.” As soon as those words slipped out of Jeno’s mouth and Jaemin closed the main door behind him, she took the last steps on the stairs to reach him, running to the couch, waiting for him.

“What are you doing here?” He asked when, coming back to his seat, he saw her sit there.

“Because it’s my home?” She replied, playing dumb. “I thought both of you left.”

“But I’m right here, so…”

“Wanna watch a movie with me?” She asked, ignoring the way he was, not so subtly, trying to make her leave.

He snorted, “why would I want to watch a movie with you?”

“Because I’m bored.”

“You are bored, not me,” he huffed, sitting down. “Also, Jaemin will be back soon, we don’t have time for a movie.”

She shifted, sitting on her knees and placing her hands on his shoulder, “Then can we do something else?”

He looked at her up and down, trying to study her expression, “Like?”

“Promise you won’t tell anybody?”

“What are you on?”

“I know we said we weren’t going to talk about that night,” she started and Jeno stopped her immediately. “Exactly, so why are you bringing it up?”

“Let me finish, please,” she begged, and Jeno nodded, curios to know where she wanted to go. “It was… good. I mean, you are good so, I was thinking that maybe we could…”

“You want to be my sex buddy?” He finished for her, a mocking smile on his face.

“I want you to teach me,” she confessed, feeling shame take over.

Jeno raised a brow, tilting his head, “you want sex lessons from me?”

She nodded, lip trapped in her teeth.

“What makes you think I want to spend time with you? Especially like that.”

She stammered, not knowing what to answer and he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, fine, since you want my attention so bad, let’s try this,” he said, turning around, face so much closer to hers now. “You have to prove to me that it won’t be a total loss of time.”

“H-how?”

He smirked, moving a strand of hair out of her face, “I gave you something the other week, didn’t I?” She hummed. “Give it back to me.”

“I told you I don’t know how to do it, it’s not fair.”

“Alright, consider this the first trial lesson. If you’re not a total failure, which I doubt, I’ll give you what you want.”

Her eyes moved around the room, suddenly realizing how dumb everything was. That was a bad idea. That was the lowest point she could reach just to have him somehow.

“You know what, I… I think I don’t need those lessons,” she said, jumping off the couch but she had no time to walk around it that Jeno was already in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.

“I know you don’t really want these lessons,” he said, pushing her back against the couch. “All you want is my attention, isn’t it? You got a taste,” he whispered, lips almost touching hers, making her lean closer, only making him smirk, “and you can’t get enough.”

She wanted to deny it but there was no point anyway. It was written all over her face. It was in the way her thighs were squeezed together. It was in the way she had never worn clothes this revealing before around him.

“Am I right?” He asked again because he wanted to hear those words slip out of her mouth, he wanted her to admit how obsessed she was with him.

“Yes, I can’t get enough.”

He smirked before moving his hand down on her neck, thumb caressing her jaw, “So… do you want to have a bigger taste?”

She nodded and then dropped to her knees when he pushed her down. Hesitant, shaky hands moved to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans and underwear down, exposing his already half-hard cock.

“Can you get me hard?” He asked, already knowing that it was a matter of seconds with the way she was looking up at him.

No words slipped out of her mouth, she only nodded and then started pumping his dick, but his stern gaze made her lower her face.

“God, I really have to teach you,” he complained, rolling his head back and sighing loudly. “Open your mouth, your hands are useless.”

“Good,” he moaned when she parted her lips and stuck her tongue out. “See, you know how to do it, you just don’t want me to think you do.”

She was about to retort when he pushed almost all the way down, making her gag around him. But the discomfort didn’t last long, it felt unexpectedly good. She liked the sensation of his length on her tongue, or how she could feel the slight throbs when she sucked harder. But what she liked the most was the way Jeno’s face was contorted in pleasure and how deep moans came out of his lips.

“Don’t give me those – fuck – innocent eyes. Where did you learn, uh? With porn – shit – or reading?” He asked when she opened her eyes and met his, making him lose his mind.

“No, don’t answer, I don’t care where you learned. I just – fuck – need you to keep doing that. Keep sucking,” he ordered, making a makeshift ponytail with her hair and guiding her on his length. “Can you take all of it?”

Her eyes snapped up, looking at him, silently telling him that she couldn’t.

“Oh, you can’t?” He snickered. “But I’m here to teach you. That’s what you wanted, right? For me – fuck – to teach you. Then learn,” he said, pushing deeper down, making her gag around it. “Relax your jaw and breathe through your nose,” he told her, slowing down, pushing out before sliding in again. “Good girl, just like that,” he praised, and her thighs clenched together at his words, feeling wetness pool in her panties. “You are good at this,” he smirked, eyes glistening as he watched her concentrated expression and the way her cheeks hollowed around his girth and her tongue twirled around his head when she reached the tip.

“Do you exercise with Jaemin’s other friends? Uhm? Or am I the only one?” He grinned when she shook her head, still not pulling away from him. “No? The only one? The only one you get on your knees for?”

She nodded again, stopping working on him to breathe again, “o-only you,” she said, glossy eyes looking up at him, drool dripping down her chin.

“Can you be a good girl and take more for me?” He asked, wiping the drool away, and lifting her chin up.

“More?” She asked, voice trembling.

He hummed, “Can you let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours? You don’t have to do anything but keep your mouth open for me.”

“Yea-yeah, I can,” she replied, parting her lips again and giving him full access. A muffled moan rolled out of her lips as soon as his hold on her hair tightened and he started thrusting into her mouth fast.

“Fuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back, “you feel good. Are you sure this is – fuck – your first time?”

She tried to nod, hands wrapping around his thighs as she started gagging more around him. “What, baby? Want to breathe?” He cooed but without stopping. “Here. Take a deep breath, just like that,” he said when he pulled out of her, making her cough to catch her breath again.

“Oh, look at you, opening your mouth again,” he said, tugging her hair and pushing into her mouth again. “I thought you were going to start – fuck – crying. But no – shit – you love this, don’t you?” He teased, staring into her watery eyes, feeling his orgasm close already.

She nodded, squeezing her eyes when he hit deeper, gagging around his length.

“It’s alright, baby,” he moaned, “I’m close. Gonna fill your pretty mouth and you – fuck – you will take it all like a good girl, uh?”

She moaned around him, closing her eyes, trying to relax more as his thrusts got faster, closing her thighs together, skin burning up in shame as she felt her panties get wetter and stick to her skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gritting his teeth and coming into her mouth. “Swallow it. Everything,” he ordered, pushing lazily into her mouth, emptying himself before pulling out. “Everything,” he repeated, grabbing her chin, and making her look up at him, watching as she swallowed all of his cum. “Good girl,” he praised her, leaning in, making her believe he was going to kiss her but instead he licked a stripe of seed that dripped on her chin and smirked at her disappointed face.

“Get up, you don’t want your brother to find you on your knees in front of my cock, right?” He said, reaching out his hand, helping her stand up after he pulled his pants back up.

“Come here,” he whispered, cleaning her chin with a napkin and fixing her messy hair. “That’s better, isn’t it?” He asked and she hummed, diverting her gaze from his, nervously playing with her fingers and squeezing her thighs together, feeling her pussy throb for how turned on she was. And Jeno knew it, but she needed to be patient. Time. He needed to take time.

“What’s with that face? You wanted the whole thing, didn’t you? You have to earn it.”

After that, other weeks of silence passed. Jeno only said hi when he passed over and nothing else. And she started to realize that she was being played, or better, that she was playing right into his fantasy, so she needed to get him out of his mind.

But it wasn’t like she had any idea of how to stop thinking about him. She had tried for more than 10 years to stop her heart from beating so fast every time she saw his face, or don’t stutter every time he addressed her. And she never succeeded. So how could she do it now? Now that she got so much more than a taste, now that she knew what his lips tasted like, now that she knew what his fingers felt like, now that she could scent his perfume every time she closed her eyes.

And, worst of it all, it felt like Jeno knew when she would start to get tired of playing this game of push and pull and always came back to her, every time giving her a bit more, and yet, a bit less.

And then one day everything changed.

“Hey! You’re soaked.” His voice rang in the late afternoon in the middle of the street. It was raining and she forgot to bring an umbrella with her, also, she couldn’t call anybody because her parents and Jaemin were out of town.

“Yeah, I can see it,” she whispered, keeping on walking, not wanting to turn around and fall on her knees more.

“Stop walking and get in, you’re gonna get sick,” he screamed, driving behind her slowly.

“As if you care,” she mumbled, trying to shield her body from the cold, cringing at the way the raindrops fell inside her clothes and wet her skin.

“I do care,” he whispered, grabbing her arm, and turning her around, chest to chest, rain wetting them both. “And now get in.”

“I don’t need you to come and save me –”

“I said, get in,” he ordered, sharp eyes looking into hers, not giving her a chance to talk back or disagree. So she lowered her head and walked to the passenger seat without saying a word.

“You can’t live without me,” he whispered when they were both in the car and started driving again in the chaos of Seoul’s streets.

“You’re so full of yourself,” she huffed, crossing her leg on top of the other and turning her body toward the window, watching as the drops ran on the glass and the lights outside appeared blurred.

“You are mad at me because I didn’t reach for you this week,” he said, tapping his fingers on the wheel, and it took a lot for her to don’t turn around and stare at them and imagine once again how they ran on her body and made her shiver. “Tell me I am wrong, come on.”

She pressed her lips in a thin line, and then brushed her hair behind, “No, you are not wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, making her turn around in surprise, eyes focusing on his face, studying his profile, wondering why he apologized. “I didn’t want to leave you hanging for so long, I’ve been busy.”

She hummed, looking in front of them this time, and squeezing in the passenger seat. Not replying because it didn’t matter anyway. He had been clear, she meant nothing to him, so what was the point of building up castles that were going to fall?

“Why are you not taking me home?” she asked when she realized he was driving in another direction.

“I know nobody’s home, don’t want to leave you alone,” he explained, coming to a stop at a streetlight, facing her and smiling… his sweet smile? The kind of smile he never, ever directed at her?

“I’m an adult, I can stay home alone,” she replied anyway. She needed to push him away, she couldn’t keep falling for his game, no matter how sweet he appeared to be. It probably was fake, just so he could brag with Jaemin about how much of a gentleman he was and didn’t let his little sister all alone in the middle of a storm.

“You wanted my company so badly the other day, why is it different now?” He grinned, before moving his hand on the shift to start the car again and sprint toward his place.

“We won’t fuck tonight.”

“Never said we had to,” he replied.

“Then why do you want me at your place?”

He shrugged, pulling into his driveway. “Are you sure you’re the only one that can’t live without the other?”

She stood there, frozen on the spot, brain struggling to register his words and to comprehend if what she understood was what he meant. He liked her too? He wanted to spend time with her?

“Wait,” she said, opening the door and running outside. Trying to don’t get wetter under the rain, reaching him under the porch while he struggled with the keys to open the do. “You find me annoying, you said you don’t want to spend time with me, you avoided me for so long, why do you do this?”

Jeno sighed, throwing his jacket somewhere and getting out of his shoes as soon as they stepped in. “Undress.”

“What! You said we weren’t going to have sex.”

“It’s to give you new clothes, dummy,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Follow me,” he said, walking to his room, a path she knew too well by now, and yet her breathe faltered just like the first time she found herself there. And it didn’t matter that nothing was going to happen, it was the thrill of being so intimate with him somehow.

“You didn’t answer,” she complained while he looked for something to give her in his closet. He turned around, a white shirt in hand, giving it to her that was now only covered with her panties and bra.

“I find you annoying but maybe I like it,” he replied. “You look interesting under the surface.”

She didn’t want to smile so big but her lips moved automatically, a dumb smile creeping on her face, eyes glistening.

“Calm, now,” he warned as soon as he saw her reaction. “This doesn’t mean we are dating, but I wouldn’t mind spending time with you. And now get dressed, before I don’t keep up with the promise of before.”

The heat of the house made them find comfort from the cold outside while they eat something while the television was turned on mostly to fill the silence between them.

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” She asked while cleaning her lips from the soy sauce that dripped on her mouth.

“What?”

“Everything,” she said. “We’ve known each other for so long but… we don’t really know anything about us.”

“You don’t?” He quirked a brow, licking his lips before placing down the empty bowl. “You think Jaemin didn’t tell me about all the questions you used to ask?”

Her cheeks heated up, cursing lowly at her brother for not being able to keep a secret. “Okay, fine, but he’s not you. I don’t know it from you.”

“Maybe you should tell me something about you. I think I can read you easily but not enough to get somewhere,” he said. “And you want to get somewhere, right?”

She hummed and then took a deep breath before opening up. Talking over and over again, letting him know even the most irrelevant things about her. Letting him go deeper than anybody else, not even caring if something was embarrassing. She trusted him.

And Jeno listened, finding out that yes, she was a lot, but maybe it wasn’t so annoying. And the more he knew about her, the better.

And then he started speaking. But his words were calculated, just like the stories he was telling. He knew what he was saying, he knew what he was doing. He was giving her a piece of himself without actually giving her anything. Without letting her slip deep under his skin. Yet for her it was enough, no, for her it was everything. She had never seen him so open, had never seen his body so relaxed beside hers, no walls were diving them right there. And that, mixed with all the sweet tempting words from before, made her fall into a vortex from which she would never get out.

Jeno had trapped her in his golden cage, but she did not know it yet, and probably, she would’ve never realized that.

“Why are you so happy?” Jaemin asked his sister, staring at her with a disgusted expression on his face. She had been hopping instead of walking for days, always had a smile on her face, and strangely she wasn’t clingy, always locked in her room, only God knows doing what.

“Why do you care? Shouldn’t you be happy that your sister’s happy?” She asked back, pouting before grabbing something to eat and running upstairs again, hiding from her brother’s questions.

Jeno had kissed her.

After talking for hours, after being so close and at the same time so far away, Jeno leaned close to her and kissed her. This time for real. A slow, sweet kiss. A kiss that she had well imprinted in her mind.

But not only that. His hands had touched her skin, trembling, and full of shivers. His long, slender fingers had trailed over her thighs, and then over her hip and held her close to him. And if she closed her eyes she could still relive all those emotions, from his scent to his eyes that had never been so real and close to her before.

Also, they had slept together. She, Jaemin’s delusional sister who had fantasized so much and for so long about ending up in his arms, had slept in Jeno’s bed.

And not like the other girls he let pass in his bed before, asleep in a tangle of sheets and sweat and cum. No, they slept in fresh, clean sheets, with his arms around her waist and his breath hitting the back of her neck. And although in the morning when she had woken up, he was not there, that was enough.

Because Jeno was in the kitchen preparing breakfast and bidding her good morning with a smile on his face that tasted like something new, something genuine. Big brown eyes creasing up in half-moons and cheeks lifting up.

Though… there was a but.

‘You can’t tell anyone about this.’ He had told her as he drove her home, serious gaze facing the road, one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other caressing her thigh. ‘It’s our little secret. You know how to keep secrets, don’t you?’

And she nodded, confident that she could do it. That if she had kept her crush on him a secret for so long, she surely could keep their ... relationship a secret? Or friendship? Or friends with benefits? She had no idea, she didn’t know what bound them together, she didn’t even know if there was actually anything that tied them together. But it didn’t matter, if it wasn’t now, it would be in a few months. It was only a matter of time. Jeno wanted to get to know her, Jeno wanted her to be a part of his life as much as she wished he was a part of hers.

‘hey, it’s me. are you free this friday?’

She blinked twice, shifting her attention from her pc to the phone beside it, trying to understand why an unknown number was texting her until she opened the message and ‘– jeno’ appeared at the end.

‘how did you get my number?’

‘i have my ways 😉 anyway, for friday? i need to buy some things for my place, it’s too empty, thought you could help’

She breathed deeply, looking around only to waste time and not answer right away just to don’t look desperate. As if she didn’t already answer ‘yes’ in her mind even before she knew what they were going to do, as if she wouldn’t have always been available for him.

‘yep, fine by me. where do we meet?’ She replied after a few minutes, hands sweating and heart throbbing harder in her ribcage.

‘my place, i’ll drive.’

And that wasn’t a date, surely not a date like she always imagined but it was something. It was nice not hearing him huff annoyed at her every word, or seeing that he didn’t move away from her with a disgusted face when their hands brushed together casually. He even laughed at her unfunny jokes.

“Our parents were never home,” she said. After buying everything, he offered to buy her a milkshake in a small coffee shop at the mall, so now they were sitting at a table in front of each other. “I mean, even when they were, they never paid much attention to us.”

“That’s why I was always there,” Jeno chuckled. “Your mother couldn’t see the mess me and Nana made.”

She smiled, lifting her gaze on him, but still stirring the liquid in her glass. “I wanted to move out of there so many times, but my job barely makes me afford my car bills and the few hobbies I have. How did you do it?”

“Well, it’s not fair when your dad pays half of it, right?”

“Your parents are cool. I remember when they used to bring you and Jaem to the amusement park. I never went there.”

“Never? Not even once?” He asked, surprised.

“Nope,” she confessed, biting her lower lip, already embarrassed at what she was about to say. “I always wanted to win a bunny from the water gun game,” she confessed. “You won it to Jaemin once. I was so jealous of that plushie.”

He smiled. “Well, I might win one just for you.”

Her eyes lit up, locking into his, heart doing cart-wheels in her chest. “You would?”

He hummed, hand under his chin, rubbing it lightly, “Why not? Next Saturday? How’s that sound?”

“It sounds amazing,” she squealed. “I love you so much.”

He smiled, looking at her, feeling a bit of warmth spread in his chest. Maybe she was nice. Maybe betting on her wasn’t the right way to start this.

When Saturday night arrived, she was vibrating with excitement. Wearing a red top, a leather black jacket and black shorts, she grabbed her small bag and rushed outside, swiftly warning her parents and Jaemin that she was going out with her friend and she wasn’t sure she was coming back. Receiving no answer.

But she didn’t care, she couldn’t care if at home nobody paid her attention. She had a date with Lee Jeno. Jeno was taking her to an amusement park for the first time and he would’ve even tried to win her a big, soft bunny she desired so much. So not even the bus ride – that she usually hated – to his place bothered her at all.

“Hi,” she greeted shily when she walked into the driveway and saw him leaning against his car. Black jeans wrapping around his legs, black shirt covering his chest and red jacket shielding him from the light breeze of the night.

“Hi, bunny. We’re matching,” he pointed out, dragging his eyes on her body and then smiling when their eyes met.

“Yeah, we didn’t even plan it,” she replied, a shy smile widening her lips as she opened the car door and stepped inside.

The car ride felt different from the others. The atmosphere was light while music played on the radio and they hummed along. There were no side-eyeing or annoyed sighs coming out of his lips like it used to happen when he was forced to bring her along because they couldn’t leave Jaemin’s sister alone. Now, Jeno glimpsed at her, diverting his attention from the street, with his lips curling in a warm smile.

And even the whole date at the amusement park was different from all the other times they hung out together.

It was like being around a different Jeno. He was carefree, laughing at her bad puns. He was kind, always paying for the rides tickets, drinks and food or wrapping a hand around her shoulders when they tried scarier attractions and she was afraid. And he looked beautiful, more than usual. There was something magnetic in the way his black hair framed his face, and his lips curled in soft smiles, making his eyes crinkle up too. He radiated a new sense of safeness. And she knew for sure that she was falling deeper.

“Now that we tried everything there’s only one thing missing,” Jeno said, dragging her toward the biggest attraction.

“The Ferris wheel?” she asked, tilting her head to look at him, fighting back the urge to intertwine their hands together. Jeno had been rather touchy the whole night, but she didn’t want to cross lines and ruin the amazing night they had.

“Yeah, are you scared?” He asked, waiting in line. “You have me by your side,” he said and then leaned in, whispering next to her ear, “and when you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about.”

She hummed, torturing her lower lip and shifting closer to him, and, unexpectedly, he wrapped his arm around her waist, and she had no idea how her knees didn’t fail her and make her fall to the ground. She didn’t even know how she didn’t pass out for the whole queue since his fingers kept caressing her skin.

“We should be able to see the whole city when we get up there,” Jeno commented, looking around waiting for the wheel to start moving now that they were inside of a cabin, sitting next to each other.

“Yeah, I guess,” she hummed, legs buckling in nervousness, and squeezing in her arms to avoid attaching to him like a koala on a tree.

Jeno picked it up quickly and turned to her with a furrow. “Are you afraid of heights for real?”

“M-me?” She giggled awkwardly. “No, haha.”

“You are shaking like a leaf,” he pointed out, hand resting on her thigh to stop – at least – one of her legs from shaking.

“I’m fine,” she replied, taking a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the way the ride was moving and how – in fact – Seoul was shining beneath them. “What was that?” She asked, panicking when they felt a jolt and the cabin stopped at the higher spot.

“I think it stopped,” Jeno replied. “A planned stop… I guess.”

“Planned? Or maybe the wheel broke, and we will fall, no, no, we will crash on the ground and you know there are no chances of surviving and this will be how we die? What will we tell my family, they don’t know about us, they think –”

He kissed her, hands cupping her cheeks and pushing her close, air cutting short in her lungs not from fear but the chills that he was making run down her spine. “It’s alright,” he whispered, slightly pulling away. “I told you, you have me.”

She looked at him not totally convinced because if the cabin fell, having him by her side wasn’t going to save her. Surely, it would’ve made her death sweeter, oddly, and tragically romantic but it was still death.

“I’m sure it’s just to show the view,” he explained, kissing her again, and again, and then his lips moved down, kissing away the chills on her exposed neck. “But since you don’t like the view…” he whispered, cupping her right boob, squeezing just enough to make her roll her head back. “I can give you something to keep you distracted. What do you think?”

“Yeah,” she moaned, “I’d like that.” She unconsciously parted her legs, not a single cross about being in public crossing her mind.

“Great,” he smiled, biting the skin of her collarbone, “feared you were going to turn down the offer.” His hands slipped down, cupping her mound and he grinned when her hips started grinding against his palm. “Oh, oh, keep doing it, keep grinding on me. It feels good, doesn’t it? The seam of the jeans pressed against your clit by my hand makes you go crazy, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, opening her eyes to look into his.

“You know, I thought you should’ve worn a skirt for practical reasons but this – shit,” he whispered when her moans got lower and deeper, “this is even better.”

“I need you,” she whimpered, hands moving to try to touch him.

“I know you do,” he cooed, “you’ve tried so hard to hold back all this time, the whole night trying to keep your hands to yourself because you just can’t help yourself, can you? Want to feel me,” he said, pressing harder against her covered pussy as she kept grinding against him, “no, no you need to feel me.”

“Yes, please,” she whimpered, leaning closer to him, making their lips meet again in small kisses.

“Can you do something for me?” She stopped moving for a second, confused by his request, but nodded. “Come in your panties like this,” he started explaining, tapping her hips to make her start moving again, “and then I’ll give you what you want.”

And she did, even if it felt humiliating to come like that, grinding against his palm as if she was desperate, making a mess in her already drenched panties and barely holding back the moans. But it was all worth it when he smiled against her lips and whispered, “good girl, you are my good girl. Learning so fast, aren’t you? Making me so proud of you.”

“Come here,” Jeno said, unbuttoning his jeans and freeing his cock. “Take your shorts and panties off.”

“He-here?” She mumbled, panic running behind her open eyes. The cabin next to theirs couldn’t see them, the black windows shielding each crib hid them well, but it was such an exposed place anyway.

“You heard me. Want to make you try something new. Come on, take them off and sit on my lap,” he ordered and she followed his instruction, trying to hide the stained black panties in her shorts as if he couldn’t feel the mess of her cunt as soon as she sat on his lap.

“You’re going to ride me, but I won’t get inside you.” Her face dropped, a bit because she couldn’t get how and because she just wanted to get there and finally have him, completely. But Jeno wanted to take it slow, he wanted to make her dance in the palm of his hand more, twirling around, following every single one of his words so well that he fell more and more every day.

“Spit on your hand,” he ordered. “Like that, and now wrap it around my cock. You want it to slide perfectly between your lips, right?” Not that it was needed since her wetness was already making his cock slip against her so easily, but he loved seeing how much she obeyed him with no hesitation. He loved seeing that she would’ve done anything for him.

She nodded, doing as he told, eyes glistening because he was already so hard and it was all because of her, for her.

“Don’t,” he stopped her when he could feel her trying to tease his cockhead against her entrance, “no fucking, remember?”

“But why?” She huffed, pouting.

“I want to save it for a special occasion for my special girl,” he replied before placing his hands on her naked waist and guiding her hips on top of him. “Just grind on me, remember before? Like you did with my hand?” She nodded, hand wrapping around his neck and forehead falling against his. “Do it with my cock, just like that,” he praised, kissing her gently. “Feel how good it is? It’s big isn’t it?”

“Yeah, so big.”

“Imagine it inside of you, stretching so much more than my fingers. Remember my fingers? How you dripped all over them and came so easily?” She hummed, hips bucking in shame and legs shaking at the idea of feeling him inside. “No, it’s alright. I know you remember them. I bet you spend your nights using yours, imagining it was me. Your little fingers – fuck – making their way into your dripping cunt, fucking yourself hard and yet…” he moaned, throwing his head back, “nothing can come close to me.”

“No – no. It doesn’t – mmph – feel just as good.”

“I know. But you need time, bunny. I can’t fuck you like this, in public, on a Ferris wheel. Not for our first time. Not when I’d leave you trembling and panting even more and you would have no strength to stand on your knees.”

She trembled in anticipation, pressing further down, making him groan.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he said. “Need to feel you more. Lift your hips more.”

“Li-like this?” She asked, whining when she had to pull away from him to give him space to grab his cock and start to rub it up and down her wet pussy. “Oh, this is, mmh, this is weird,” she mumbled, voice breaking a bit more every time that his tip pressed over her opening but never pushed in.

“But it feels good, right? We need to come fast; it will start moving soon again, remember? You don’t want the operator to find you like this, right?”

“No, no, I – that’s humiliating.”

“I know, baby. I would never make someone humiliate you. So I need you to stay like this, don’t try to slide down on me and let me rub my cock against your pretty pussy, okay?”

“Ye – yes,” she moaned.

Jeno moaned, rolling his head back, when he started to rub his head faster against her dripping cunt and clit, the cabin filling with wet sounds and moans they couldn’t hold back anymore, not even caring if there was somebody next to them.

“It’s good,” she whimpered, nails digging behind him, ripping the leather protection of the seats. “I’m – I’m close,” she breathed out, voice pitched and pussy clenching around nothing when another jolt shook the wheel and it started moving again.

“Me too, bunny. Can you come with me?”

“Yes, yes, please, faster,” she moaned, throwing her head back when he started doing that. Jeno had no idea how he was fighting back the urge to just penetrate her right there and then with no warning, slipping past her warm walls and filling her up, fucking her hard until she was nothing but a mess. And that thought made him grit his teeth and kiss her, cum spilling all over her cunt, triggering her orgasm too at the sensation of the warm liquid making a mess on her. She had never done that with her ex-boyfriend. And this orgasm was stronger than the rest, it left her shaking, whimpering, and panting in shame, in pleasure, in whatever drug Jeno was making her take every day that passed. It was becoming more and more of an addiction, yet, she didn’t seem to get enough.

“Fuck,” he moaned, laughing lowly, trying to catch his breath. “That was intense,” he said, smiling at her, “grab your clothes and put them on if you don’t want the whole park to see you like this, though,” he teased, handing her the discarded panties and shorts. “It would be a beautiful view,” he said, watching as she tried to stand on her wobbly legs and get back into her clothes, “but I’m pretty jealous of it.”

And another flush of heat rushed up her body, forcing her to lower her head.

When the attraction came to a stop they barely looked decent, but they couldn’t care.

“Are – are you still trying to win the bunny for me?” she asked, head lowered as the realization of what just happened hit her, and it was clear as the sky how experienced and used to this he was by how he was walking as if nothing happened, as if he didn’t just come all of her pussy and then made her push her clothes back on, walking around in that mess. And the worst of it all was that she liked it, she liked that he left a mark on her somehow, that something of him was still on her skin.

Jeno chuckled, almost as if he knew exactly what was running in her mind, finding it appealing how she would let go for a second just to go back to her usual serious and shy self in the blink of an eye. “We came here for that, right?”

He had promised her. And he kept his promises. Just like he kept his bets. But the more he looked at her, the more time he spent with her, the more he couldn’t see a clear line between the bet and reality. He knew he liked the thrill, he knew he liked the desperation, but he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was starting to like her.

Because when they reached the stuffed toys booth, it didn’t bother him that he had to pay to try to hit the target to win her that toy. He didn’t even find her supportive cheers annoying. He didn’t even mind that she kissed him as soon as – with a clear shot – he hit the target and made it fall after ten seconds of the game, winning her that so-awaited white bunny with big eyes and pink ears.

“You’re so good at this,” she exclaimed, clapping her hands and jumping on the spot, waiting for the operator to hand him the toy.

“I had the greatest support ever,” he smiled, handing her the plushie, smiling as she brought it close to her chest and hugged it tightly. A dream of a child coming reality after so many years.

“Do you like it?” He asked even if he knew the answer.

“I love it,” she replied. “Thank you for winning it for me and thank you for bringing me here,” she whispered.

“No worries, I had fun,” he replied, reaching for her hand. “Should we head home? My place? How’s that sound?”

“Amazing,” she replied, smiling from ear to ear, intertwining their hands, and walking to the car.

She was still smiling, hiding her face behind the plushie for happiness and shame as she felt his cum drip slowly out of her.

And Jeno was smiling too, thinking that if she finally had gotten his bunny, he had gotten his, too.

“He’s your bunny,” he whispered close to her, “but you are mine.”

“Your fridge is always empty,” she huffed, closing the grey door and huffing at her boyfriend that was sitting on a chair, scrolling through his phone. “How do you survive like this? How do you survive without me doing everything for you?” She asked, crossing her arms on her chest and glaring at him.

Jeno chuckled, placing the phone down and standing up, reaching her, wrapping his arms around her. “I know, bunny. I’m sorry. I promise next time I’ll make you find the fridge full.”

She rolled her eyes, and pushed him away, “you know it’s a lie. You say it every time and then we would always starve if it was for you.”

“Oh, come here,” he pouted, grabbing her wrist and pulling her against his chest again. “That’s better,” he smiled, snuggling their noses together, making her laugh. “See, you can’t be mad at me.”

“No, I can’t.”

She really couldn’t. Especially now that they were dating for almost a month. Even if she knew so many flaws he had, she grew to love them all. She couldn’t even hate how it had to be a secret because she still had him and that was all that mattered. Actually, she enjoyed that it was a secret.

After a few weeks of sneaking around with Jeno going to her place to see his brother and having to sneak in her room or in the bathroom for a few kisses and heated make-out sessions, this was so much better. She spent most of the time at his place, telling her family she was at her friend’s house or at the library, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. And Jeno never made Jaemin come over when his sister was at home. So everything was working out smoothly.

This was great. It was the illusion of living together, but she hoped that soon it would’ve turned into something real. Their story was getting rather serious, in a way she never expected.

She brought some of her things to his place so she had no problems when she stayed over. They did many things together like grocery or buying things when something broke. Jeno always found time to have at least a Saturday or Sunday evening for them to go out to restaurants, and when he couldn’t, they usually went to other types of dates in the afternoon. They even bought a matching bracelet – that Jaemin didn’t notice because he paid her even less attention now.

“You’re not picking a movie, anymore,” Jeno said, chuckling, stealing the remote from her hands and making her whine.

“Oh, please,” she huffed, “for one bad movie.”

“One is enough,” he replied, leaving a peck on her forehead, making her squirm and snuggle close to him on the couch.

But even after he picked one, they didn’t pay the movie much attention because they were too busy kissing each other. She sat on his lap, fingers in his hair while his hands cupped her ass and pushed her closer to his body. And this happened almost every time, they just couldn’t keep their hands off each other, but they never did more than that. Jeno wanted to wait for a special occasion.

And that occasion arrived. One night, Jeno brought her to a restaurant out of town; a fancy place she had never been to before.

“You picked such a beautiful place,” she said while they waited for the second course, and she looked around still amazed. That wasn’t the kind of place she used to go, and they never even went together to a similar restaurant. Experimental cuisine, beautiful, elegant design, and classical music playing in the background.

“I’d do this and more for you,” he replied, caressing her hand on the table. “And, talking about doing things together. My parents have a house out of town and they don’t use it, thought we could go there together.”

“You mean just us or with your group of friends?”

“Just us. So we can spend some time alone, no need to worry about your brother, about anything.”

She hummed, “Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Great, you can come up with a lie, right?”

“Of course, I can,” she replied. “But, can I ask why Jaemin doesn’t have to know about us?”

“You know him, he would ever let me close to you,” he replied, shrugging.

“But you’re his dearest friend. You are like a brother to him. I think he trusts you.”

“It’s not about trust,” he said. “It’s weird. And yeah... he knows too much about me to don’t want me near you.”

“Like? Are you trying to scare me away on our date?”

“No, no,” he stopped her right away. “But I’ve been a player most of my life, and as much as he can't stand you he wouldn’t want me to break your heart.”

“So... as long as he doesn’t know you can break it?”

“As long as he doesn’t know I can love you without him reminding me of my past,” he explained. “Hey, I love you. More than I ever loved anybody else, so can you please don’t let my past define me?”

She gulped, looking into his eyes and finding the truth. “Yeah, sorry, I’m just a little paranoid because... because nobody ever went this far with me.”

“I know,” he replied, smiling, “that’s why I wanted to take it slow, that’s why I don’t want to rush us.”

“Can we go back to your place?” She asked once they were in the car, the rest of the night proceeded smoothly as their conversation never drifted to her family again and they left the past right where it was. “I don’t want to go home.”

“I wasn’t planning on making you go home anyway,” he said, smirking. “I have a small surprise at home.”

“A surprise? Is that another bunny?”

“Better.”

But when they arrived home there was nothing, not physical, at least, and she looked at him with a furrow. “There’s nothing here.”

“Mhh, it’s something you had next to you all night,” he sang, walking close to her, wrapping his hands around her waist and moving her hair to the side, leaving a trail of kisses on her neck.

She chuckled, “is it you?”

He hummed, making her twirl in his hold. “Do you want me, bunny?”

“Don’t I have you already?”

“Yeah, but I think you still want more, don’t you?” He asked lifting her up in his arms, waiting for her to wrap her legs around his waist and start to walk upstairs. “I can’t take your disappointed face every time we don’t go all the way.”

“You make me sound desperate,” she chuckled, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

“Because you are,” he replied, opening his bedroom door and laying her on the bed. And he was right because she didn’t waste time kissing him and moving her hands on his body to free him of his clothes.

“Gonna make you feel good,” he whispered once they were naked, lips closing around her nipple, sucking and twisting, making her push her body closer to his. “So good, bunny. Like nobody else ever made you feel.” His mouth moved down, tracing kisses all over her abdomen and then over her mound before lapping at her clit, making her whimper and squirm under his kisses and licks.

“No, shh, don’t move,” he whispered, pulling away from her slit. “Let me take care of you, bunny. I know he never did. But I’m not him, I’m not like anybody else.” His lips started moving on her again, sucking on her clit hard and then teasing her entrance, tasting her, feeling lightweight as his hands kept her legs spread open, fingers digging in the soft flesh of her thighs.

“Uh,” she cried, head thrown back, eyes squeezed closed and lips gasping for air. “It’s – it’s so good.”

He smirked against her skin, chin getting wetter with the slick that was streaming out of her as his tongue and lips moved faster on her, bringing her to the climax sooner than she wanted.

But even if she loved the feeling of his lips, she needed more.

“Jeno,” she mewled when he pulled away, licking his lips and cleaning his chin with the back of his hand. “Ne-need you,” she stuttered, looking into his eyes, filled with lust and need. “Please, need to feel you.”

Jeno kissed her, one hand at the side of her head keeping his body up and the other stroking his hard, thick cock.

“Gonna make you mine,” he groaned, aligning his length at her entrance and pushing into her, nails digging into his back as the never felt before stretch cut her breath.

“Fuck,” she cried, searching for his lips, chest panting as she tried to calm down, “you’re... you’re too big.”

“No, bunny,” he reassured, caressing her cheek, hips backing away before sinking in again, “you can take me. You can take everything I give to you.”

She nodded, legs falling limper as her body trembled in his hold.

“So good for me, bunny,” he praised, the veins of his neck popping out as he tried to hold in the moans.

“Want to – want to hear you,” she mumbled, cupping his face. “Please, want to know I’m – fuck – making you feel – aah – good.”

And Jeno let go, groans and low moans rolling out of his parted lips as he started thrusting into her faster, making her get even wetter as she felt him reach deeper inside of her.

“You make me feel so good, baby,” he hummed, throwing his head back when her walls clenched harder around him and he knew it was just a matter of minutes. He couldn’t hold it anymore. They were made for each other. Fitting so perfectly that he felt good like never before. Nobody could come close to this, to her.

“Fa-faster,” she barely breathed out, eyes half-lidded and lungs gasping for air.

“Faster?” He smirked, tilting his head, staring at her face, getting high in the way she was whimpering so nicely every time he pushed back and forth. “Can you take me, bunny?”

“Yes,” she screamed. “Need – need to feel you more.” She had no idea how it could’ve been possible, or exactly what more did she need from him. But she needed him. She needed him to get under her, and she needed to get under him. Tattooing each other under their skins.

And Jeno gave it to her. Going faster, pulling her legs closer to him, leaning down to cage her completely making her feel small and safe. He was always going to give her everything and more. Everything that would’ve been enough to never make her want to leave. Because she was his, and he was hers. And they belonged together.

“Je-Jeno,” she cried, feeling her stomach tighten up, silently warning him that she was close.

“I’m close, too,” he said through gritted teeth. “Your pussy’s so good, fuck. You are too good. Come for me, bunny. Come with me.”

And her body obeyed, squirming under him, hips bucking while her eyes rolled into the back of her head and another orgasm washed over.

“Yes, just like that,” Jeno groaned, watching her face contort and shooting his cum into her, hips slamming messily against her ass while his hand gripped her waist harder to keep her in place.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling out of her and rolling at her side. “So, was it worth the wait?”

She smiled, turning to him. “You are always worth the wait.”

Jeno was... caring. Too apprehensive at times. Not that she minded all the attention but she sometimes wondered if he did too much. He insisted on picking her up when she came out of work. He always dropped her by when she went out with her friends alone. He drove her everywhere, saying that it was safer because ‘you may never know who you meet on the metro or the bus.’

But the weird thing was that one minute he was all over her, never taking his eyes off of her even for a split second, and then he was nowhere to be found, or he even got mad at her, reminding her to don’t be too touchy because nobody had to know.

Just like right now. He invited her to Haechan’s party but didn’t spare her a single glance all night but she had no intention of rotting on a sofa seat just to get back home after wasting an entire evening.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jeno snapped, glaring at Haechan pushing him off of her.

“Hey, man,” the brown-haired replied with a smug smirk on his face, “we were dancing. Had no idea you cared about her so much?” He grinned.

“Take that grin out of your face if you don’t want me to wipe it off with a punch,” he warned, glaring at him before grabbing her wrist and dragging her out of the living room, walking upstairs not even caring that she was hardly following his steps.

“Jeno wait!”

“Shut up!” He screamed, pushing her inside an empty room and locking it behind them with the key, stuffing it inside his pocket. “What the fuck were you thinking, uh?”

“W-what?” She asked, chest panting for running and because she didn’t expect him to react like that.

“Stop with that fucking act of the innocent girl,” he barked, cupping her cheek with a hand and pushing her close to the nearest wall, pressing her against it with his body. “I was right when I said you would’ve crawled to every single friend of your brother. You’re such a slut.”

“What? Don’t call me that! You know it’s not true,” she retorted, voice shaking with fear. She had never seen him like this and she couldn’t even get why he was so mad. She and Haechan were only dancing, and nobody could know that they were dating, so it wasn’t like she had a choice.

“Oh, it’s not true?” He cooed, squeezing her face tighter. “Then why were you grinding on him?"

“I - I wasn’t,” she whispered as tears started flowing on her face.

“Oh, nice,” he sighed, shaking his head, and letting go of her face, placing his hand beside her head against the wall, “now you’re going to cry. You were all over another man and you cry.”

“You know it’s only you. I’d never leave you,” she replied, lips quivering as she looked into his eyes and found them filled with darkness. “It was… it was the heat of the moment, he asked me to dance and you weren’t there and you said to keep our distances.”

“Yeah, but I think you need a reminder of who you belong to,” he said, flipping her over. "Need to put into your little dumb brain that I’m the only one.”

She nodded, shivering when his hands slipped under the dress, and she shouldn’t have felt so turned on because he was finally paying her attention, because he was showing he wanted her and nobody could come close to her. But she was. It was fucked up, and yet, her knees were buckling already under his touch.

“Need you to remember that even when I’m not by your side you’re mine and mine only. This body,” he said, running his hands on her thighs and waist and then squeezing her boobs, making her groan, “is mine. You are mine. Say it,” he ordered.

“I’m yours, always yours.”

“That’s better,” he replied, voice still stern, and hands slipping inside her laced panties. “Oh, wet already? You want me to be mean to you, don’t you?”

“No, I – I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” he said, "but don’t lie to me. You’re either dripping because of him, which will make me very mad. Or...” He leaned closer, “you are a little slut that gets off to these things.”

She whimpered, feeling her knees buckle. “Don't call me like that.”

“No? You want me to call you bunny, right? Want to be my little bunny?”

She nodded, biting her lower lip when his fingers started moving on her clit.

“To be my bunny you have to be good. And right now, you’re not. Prove to me you can be my good little bunny and not some cheap slut that lets all her brother’s friends pass her around, okay?”

“Yeah, I will prove it to you,” she said, trying to turn around but Jeno grabbed her wrists and blocked them together behind her back.

“You’re not moving from here,” he ordered. “And be thankful I brought you here and not in the bathroom. Come here, on the desk,” he ordered, guiding her to walk over to the white desk at the side of the room.

“Is – is this his bedroom?” She asked, looking around, seeing it was too decorated to be a guest room.

“Yeah, is that a problem? Don’t you want to leave him a little gift of something he will never have?”

“Je – Jeno you don’t need to be jealous, I-”

“Shut up,” he groaned, ripping her panties and spreading her legs more. “You think you know him more than I do? You think I don’t know what he looks like when he wants to fuck someone?”

She rolled her head back when he slipped one finger into her. “I wouldn’t have – fuck – I wouldn’t have let him.”

Jeno snickered bitterly. “I’m not sure about it,” he replied, kissing her roughly and pushing another finger inside. “Your ass was pressing so much against his cock. Think I didn’t see it? Think I’m stupid? He was hard, wasn’t he? And you loved it,” he mocked, adding a third finger making her moan louder. “Because you love attention, you live for attention. You seek it. You crawled to me because you needed attention so how can I trust you? Tell me? How can I trust you with other men?”

“I – I would never cheat on you,” she replied, trying to steady her breath and keep up with him instead of getting lost in the way his fingers made her feel. “If I could – fuck – dance with you in public, I – I would, I would only – fuck – do it with you.”

“So you’re going to do it again just because I’m not by your side? Just because I don’t carry you around with a leash like a fucking dog?” He replied, stilling his fingers inside of her and tilting his head to the side.

“That’s not what I meant,” she replied, trying to close her legs but he stopped her in her tracks lifting a finger and pushing her hips down against the desk. “Jeno, please,” she begged. “I won’t go to parties anymore, okay? I can stay at home, I never liked them anyway.”

“And you think that’s enough?” He asked, picking up the movements inside her, making her breath shake and her nails dig in his arms.

“Then what more can I do for you?” She asked, tears flowing down her cheeks, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. Disappointing him was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Don’t fucking cry,” he growled, leaning closer to her but pulling his fingers out of her. “I hate it when you cry. I hate when you do dumb things first without thinking about the consequences and then do this, play the victim.”

“I just – I don’t want to upset you or hurt you. I don’t like fighting with you.”

“Then use your brain?” He said, tapping his fingers on her mouth and pushing them down her throat. “The only time you’re not supposed to think about a thing is when I’m fucking you, got it?”

She nodded, trying to kiss him back when he pulled his fingers out. “Can you forgive me? I’m sorry.”

“Maybe, I’ll forgive you if you don’t disappoint me another time,” he said, letting go of her face. “Are you going to be a good girl?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be your good girl,” she replied, moving toward the edge of the desk to feel him more.

“Then bend over,” he ordered, waiting for her to follow his orders. “See, you can be good when you want to.”

She was about to reply but then pursed her lips together, not wanting to get him mad even more. If she liked it when he got rougher, she still didn’t want to fight or make him truly upset.

“This ass,” he said, hand slapping her ass cheek hard, making her jolt, “is mine. Got it?”

“Ye-yes.”

“This pussy,” another slap, but this time on her pussy, “is mine.”

“Yours.”

“And you,” another smack on her other ass cheek, “are mine.”

“Yours. I’m all yours,” she whimpered, feeling her skin burn.

“Now be a good girl,” he said, rubbing the skin of her ass, “and part your legs more.”

“I wanted to fuck your mouth but I need to feel you, need to fuck you hard and make you walk out of here with – fuck,” he groaned, pushing inside of her wet cunt, “make you walk out of here with shaky legs and my cum dripping out of you.”

Her nails scraped against the hard wood under her, head rolling back at the stretch of his cock.

“Yeah, you like that? That was what you wanted, shit,” he moaned, “Wanted me to pay you attention so you got on my nerves to get this. You want me to be rough with you, don’t you?” He asked. “Answer me,” he groaned, pulling her flush against his chest and leaving a light tap against her cheek.

“Yes, fuck, yes.”

“But if you – fuck – want me to be rough with you, you just have to fucking ask. But noo,” he cooed, a deep laugh rolling out of his chest. “It’s better to go around and act like a slut, isn’t it?”

“N-no,” she breathed out.

He snorted. “And you know, if I only didn’t care so much about you I’d let him fuck you. I’d love to see the – fuck – the disappointed look on your face," he said, wrapping a hand around her neck and squeezing it before kissing her hard. “Because he can’t fuck you like I do.”

“I – I know," she moaned, feeling her knees shake.

“Nobody can fuck you like I do,” he whispered against her ear. “Say it,” he ordered, “say that nobody, nobody, will ever make you feel as good as I do.”

She threw her head back, ass arching against him, pleasure making her feel dizzy as she struggled to make the words come out of her mouth. “No - nobody will ever make me – mmh – nobody will make me feel as good as you.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“You feel good,” she moaned, head falling forward, not really sure she could last longer. “No,” she whined when he pulled out.

“Turn around,” he ordered. “Want you to look into my eyes while I break you.”

She stumbled on her heels, hardly turning around and sitting back on the desk and in a second Jeno was inside her again, thrusting into her mercilessly, knocking the breath out of her lungs.

“You make me so fucking mad,” he groaned, kissing her roughly. “I wanted to get home and – shit – fuck you gently all night and here we are,” he said, cupping her face, “we have a party to get back to and we look like a mess all because you never know when to stop.”

“Too much," she mumbled, looking into his eyes, hips shaking.

“No, you can take it, you wanted this and you will take this. I know you’re close, you’re – fuck – squeezing me.”

“Play with your clit,” he ordered. “And come for me while you look into my eyes.”

“Y-yes,” she replied, sliding her hand between their bodies and starting to move her fingers on her clit, wanting to roll her head back but forcing herself to keep it up and stare at him, feeling the orgasm come.

“Shit, yes,” Jeno moaned. “Just like that. Good girl, my good bunny,” he praised, kissing her. "Yeah, that was what you wanted. And keep bein’ my good bunny and come,” he ordered, giving one last thrust that pushed her over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cried, locking her legs around his waist and digging the nails of the hand around his arm into his skin.

“God,” he groaned. “Mine. All mine.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, meeting his lips in a soft kiss again, “I’m all yours.”

Jeno leaned his forehead against hers as they both caught their breaths and came down from the high. “I’m all you ever wanted," he whispered. “All your life you wanted me. And now you have me, bunny. You have me right here, so don’t you dare leave me.”

She wasn’t supposed to be there, eavesdropping a conversation about her that she wasn’t supposed to hear. But when she come back from work, she opened the front door and heard Jeno and his friends talk in the kitchen, surely Jaemin wasn’t there, or there was no way they would have that conversation. But she didn’t do it on purpose and she had no idea if it was better like this or living in a lie.

‘You didn’t win the bet, technically. It was two months and you started dating her after three.’ Haechan complained.

‘Yeah, but I got to her after one week, I think I win.’ Jeno replied and even if she couldn’t see his face, she knew there was a smug smirk on his face.

‘I mean, the bet involved both fucking with her and dating her so I think he’s right.’ Jisung chimed.

‘And as I told you she fell on my feet. She was literally begging for my attention so my point was proved.’ Jeno

She felt her eyes flood with tears and ran away with the intention to confront him at home. Receiving more humiliation in front of his friends was the last thing she wanted.

‘God, I hate you, man, Fine. Here’s the money.’

Jeno scoffed. ‘I don’t want the money,’ he replied. ‘I think I found a better prize.’

“Honey,” Jeno said, opening the door of his place. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home, why’s your car in the driveway?”

“Don’t call me honey,” she said, standing in front of him, crossing her arms in front of her chest and staring at him.

“Oh, what happened? We didn’t have a date, right?” He asked, trying to guess why she was mad. “And surely today is not your birthday.”

She took a step forward and slapped him, making him flinch and stare at her with a surprised expression.

“You are an asshole!” She screamed. “You played me for a fucking bet. You – you lied to me all these months! Five months of lies and games you played for some money. Is this all I am to you? A joke? A bar talk with your stupid friends? How much do they know about me? Did you have fun making fun of my innocence? Or was it funnier to laugh about how much I trusted you and let you do things I would’ve never done before?”

“Hey, hey,” he said, trying to reach for her but she pulled away, glaring at him, making him understand that if he dared to touch her she was going to slap him again. “You are not a joke for me. And they don’t know a single thing about you. I don’t want anybody else to know so much about you, to get so deep under your skin. Everything that we did, everything you told me, had been just between me and you.”

“I heard you,” she retorted. “I’m not dumb, I know what I heard. I heard how hard you were trying to convince them that you were right and you won! All your daddy’s money and you still need to win more by betting on me!”

“I didn’t want the money,” he explained, walking closer to her again. “Can you let me explain?”

“No, you’ve got nothing to explain. There’s nothing you can say that will,” she stopped, lowering her head and sniffling lowly, running the palm of her hand under her nose. “Nothing you can say will make you come out of this innocent,” she whispered, feeling new tears wet her face. This wasn’t supposed to end like this. She wanted him too much for this to end up so badly.

“Does it matter why I got closer to you? Do you really want a stupid bet to come between us?” He asked, trying to meet her eyes but her head was still reclined, facing the floor of his living room and her hair hid her face.

“It’s not a stupid bet. It’s me. It’s us,” she replied with her voice full of anger. “And I won’t let you get away with this. I will tell everything to Jaemin. I will tell him how his best friend, well friends, played his sister. I will tell him how you used me all this time and you will see,” she said, finding the courage to look up at him, but when she met his eyes she couldn’t find fear. Jeno was unfazed, staring at her with a faint grin on his face.

“Honey, do you hear yourself?” Jeno chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Do you really think he would believe you? His annoying, pathetic little sister who drooled over me for ages. And careful, that is what he thinks about you.”

Her mouth hung open, not expecting him to say something like that. “I didn’t drool over you,” she retorted, trying to push in the back of her mind the fact that deep down not even Jaemin cared about her. That truly she was way lonelier than she thought.

“Shh, don’t cry,” he said, walking to her, caressing her cheek now that she let down her guard, shoulders dropping and heart crumbling into pieces. “You know you do. You wanted me so badly for all this time so… what’s different now?”

“You – you, this is all a game for you. You bet on me. You think nobody wants me.”

“Did I ever say that? No. But let’s be real, you’re 21 and nobody ever looked at you the way I did. All the things I did, I did them for you,” he replied, thumb brushing on her burning wet cheek. “I made you feel good, so why would you be mad at me? I never said I loved you when we started. I never told you that when I didn’t truly believe it.”

“But you knew I… you knew! You knew I would’ve done anything for you,” she screamed, shaking harder in his hold, feeling both comfort and coldness in it. She couldn’t wrap her head around it, how he was the main reason for her pain and yet the main reason for her comfort.

“And? I knew how dedicated you are, so what’s the problem?”

“I… I… you know it’s not fair,” she whispered, looking down again, not bearing to his face. His handsome, gentle face that fooled her for so long. “You know that’s one of the worst things you could ever do.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. And I’ll tell my brother and you will see. You won’t make me change my mind.”

Jeno grabbed her waist, pulling her close to him. “You won’t tell him anything. Do you really want to humiliate yourself? What are you going to do? Tell him that you crawled to me on your knees because you needed someone to teach you about sex? You remember right why it all started? Imagine how he would feel knowing that you go around asking all his friends to fuck you.”

Her eyes drifted on his face. “I don’t go around doing that,” she said, tears streaming down her face.

“Maybe…” he replied, wanting to bring up the way she was grinding on Haechan even if they were together, but deciding to don’t more fuel to the fire. “But if I would’ve said no, you would’ve. Isn’t this better for everybody? Your brother doesn’t know, and we still have each other.”

“I don’t want to have you,” she lied, meeting his eyes, scaring herself because how could he be so impassive? How could there not be a trace of emotions? Did he care or not?

“No? Now that you finally got me, you don’t want me anymore?”

“No – not like this,” she replied, trying to stop the sobs and don’t look even more like a mess. The mess he made. “You – you are a completely different person, you – you are not who I thought you were.”

“But I am me. You loved me all these months, and trust me, that was the real me. Why don’t you love me anymore? Why would you push me away, bunny?”

“Do-don’t call me bunny,” she said, glaring at him.

“But you love it so much, don’t you? Do you still have the bunny I won for you? Remember it? I can give you so much more than that.”

“I – I need you to love me, I don’t need this. I don’t need toys. I don’t need lies. You hurt me.”

“And I’m sorry, alright? I never lied to you when it came to us. I would’ve broke us off if I truly didn’t like you.”

“Yeah but I, I’m not sure I want you anymore,” she said, slipping out of his hold and grabbing her purse and jacket from the couch. “We – we need a break.”

And Jeno watched her go, opening the door of his house and closing it behind. He didn’t cry, he didn’t run after her, he didn’t try to stop her.

He knew she was going to come back to her.

Crawling, just like she did the first time.

She was lost. Everybody around her noticed that. Weird, she thought, that for once they were paying attention to her. But she couldn’t tell the truth, she shrugged their oppressions off, pretending that it was just life, work and lack of sleep.

And that wasn’t a total lie. She had spent sleepless nights up, Jeno’s ghost haunting her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge every night. Because if during the day she could pretend and try to distract herself, at night she couldn’t.

Jeno was everywhere. He was like her shadow, walking behind her, a cold wind blowing around her, covering her with shivers. He was imprinted on her body, his fingerprints burning up on her skin, leaving scars that weren’t physical, scars she couldn’t mend or sew. Scars he left open, bleeding, and poured with salt. Scars only he could heal. And only he could make.

And she didn’t know what to do. If it was better to go back to him, let him heal her pain and hope he wasn’t going to scar her again or leave immediately. Admit to herself that certain things just weren’t meant to happen and let him go, slowly, bleeding some more, but let him go.

And it took her two weeks to make up her mind and take the most painful decision of her life.

So when she found herself at his front door she felt every second pass, slowly, prolonging that torture more.

“Coming.” She could hear his muffled voice from the other side of the door and wanted to leave, not sure that after seeing his face she would’ve carried through. But she was there, and when she took the first step back, it was already too late. “Oh, you didn’t warn you were going to pass by,” he said, surprised of seeing her there.

She hummed, “No, it was a last-minute decision. Can I come in? Or are you already busy with somebody else?”

Jeno sighed but moved to the side. “I told you, I love you. I would never move on so easily.”

She shrugged, before turning around again. “Actually it won’t take long, so you can go back to what you were doing,” she said, making Jeno furrow.

She came back, but he already suspected she didn’t come back how he wanted.

“I thought about it a lot,” she started saying, fingers playing with a loose thread of her sweater but she was forcing herself to look at him. “I thought about us a lot and I realized I can’t do this. I can’t have you, not like this, not after everything.”

Jeno blinked repeatedly, shaking his head. “You want to break up with me?” He asked to make sure that was the point she was making.

“Yes,” she replied. “It pains me a lot but… I need to put me first. I am worthy unlike all of you think.”

Jeno hummed, rubbing his chin and wetting his lip. “You are, you sure are. But… you know nobody will make you feel as good as I made you feel, right?”

She didn’t answer. She feared nobody was going to make her feel what he made her feel, but that couldn’t be possible, right? There were so many people in the world, he couldn’t be the only one for her.

“Nobody will ever know you as deeply as I know you.”

No answer again, just broken eyes looking into each other.

“Do you really want to erase all of these years?”

She furrowed at his words, chuckling bitterly, “You never paid attention to me.”

“Are you sure? Just because I was looking at you from the sidelines, silently waiting for the moment to have you? We love in such a different way you think I don’t love you. How could you be so full of yourself thinking that your way of loving is the only right one?”

“I don’t think my way of loving is the only right one I… you… you never loved me,” she whispered, feeling her heart clench because she had to repeat it to herself every night and doing it again, reminding herself that he never loved her but only played her like a puppet on a string, brought her to her knees, and made her feel worthless. It proved once again that everybody was right, that she was nothing special, nothing more but a sideshow for everybody to buy a ticket and laugh at her goofiness and futility.

“Here you go, doing this again. Do I have to get on my knees to tell you I love you?” He asked, taking a step closer to her.

“No, there’s no –”

“No, I’ll do it,” he stopped her. “Here I am, on my knees for you.”

She clenched her fists and wanted to slap him again for missing the point so many times. “You bet on me!” She replied, screaming at his face.

“That’s so irrelevant,” he replied, keeping up with her angry gaze, not even flinching.

“No, it’s not. And you’re lucky I didn’t say a thing to Jaemin –”

“Shut up,” he stopped her, standing up once again, voice harsh before it turned sweet and caring again, “I thought we were clear about not telling anything to him, right?”

“No,” she fought back. “I won’t keep my mouth shut.”

Jeno rolled his eyes and stopped her, a hand around her cheek and another around her waist. “Now you stop and listen to me,” he groaned, “alright, darling?” She hummed, tears running down her face again, and hated the way the only thing her mind could think was how much she had missed the feeling of being in his arms.

“I’d never hurt you on purpose, I love you and it doesn’t matter if it took a bet to get it. I do. And I want you to put it in your mind. Please, let me show you how much I love you,” he whispered, kissing her neck, making her shiver and push him back. She couldn’t fall, not again, not now that his games were all revealed. “Shh, shh, don’t fight it. Don’t fight me,” he rasped. “Remember how you were always all over me? What changed now?”

“You are not who I fell in love with,” she managed to say, shivering and squirming under him, feeling that the power he had over her was once again making her walls fall down.

“Just let me prove it to you, let me prove you it’s always me, the only one you love so much. Because you love me, right?” He cooed, caressing her cheek, and wiping away the black rivers of mascara on her face. “I know you still love me. I know your heart cannot beat with me out of your life.”

She didn’t answer but only hummed, shivering when his hand reached the small of her back and pulled her closer. Tired, she felt tired. And once again, he was the only one keeping her up on her feet. He was the only one that didn’t let her fall. But she wondered if it was because he truly cared, or if he needed to control her. If this sense of comfort was also fake like everything else. But her mind couldn’t tell it, not now at least, and she only hoped that when she did, it wouldn’t have been too late.

“You don’t want me to leave you. You cannot live without me. Remember?” He whispered, caressing her face gently, reaching her hair, caressing her scalp, fingers moving in circles just like she liked, in the same way that would always make her fall asleep with her head on his lap, or against his shoulder. “You told me, whispered it to me while laying on my chest, fantasizing about our future together.”

“That – that was before…” she sniffled, trying to fight it off, trying to grasp onto what was left of sanity, screaming to the small part of her that wasn’t completely devoted to him to please wake her up and make her get out of there. But there was nothing left of her that wasn’t madly, deeply, and completely in love with him, lost for him, devoted, obsessed with the feelings he brought along. Nothing of her didn’t scream Jeno anymore. She was his. Every inch of her skin. Every cell of her blood. Every thought in her mind, about him.

And he knew it. Because he truly had her imprinted in the back of his mind. He had studied her for so long, silently, without making her notice. He knew exactly what she needed and how to give it to her. He knew how neglected she was and how she needed to be valued, loved, praised, and cherished. And he was going to do it. If she let him, he was going to give her everything and more.

“But I’m still here,” he smiled, and then he kissed her as his hands moved to gently cup her cheeks and kiss her lips. “See, there still are my lips on yours,” and then he moved down, “and on your neck… right here,” he sucked. “Right here, bunny, where it makes you shiver so much under me.” And her body trembled in his hold as if it was a command, something natural starting from her brain as soon as his lips moved, like a magic spell.

“Yeah, you know nobody else will know how much you love being kissed there,” he hummed, snuggling his nose against her skin. “Or touched here,” he said while his hand moved under her sweater and brushed against the skin of her hips.

“Jeno, we – you need to stop,” she shook her head, trying to stop him once again. To stop herself from falling into the wolf trap.

“Do I? Does your body want to?”

“I don’t care what my body wants. I know this is wrong.”

“How is this wrong?” He asked, pulling his hand out of her sweater, but still keeping the other on her cheek, caressing softly. “It’s us, bunny. It will always be us.”

She swallowed hard, trying to understand if he was lying or if he was being honest, but she couldn’t get it. She had never been good at reading him and he had played her so many times she had no idea if she could trust him. But what was he gaining from this? Why was he fighting so hard to keep her when he could’ve had anybody else? Why was he still trying to keep her with him if the bet was done? Sure, that was wrong, the worst thing he could’ve ever done but it was in the past. He grew to love her. He loved her. Lee Jeno loved her. And he was doing everything to prove it to her.

“Do you want it to be only us, bunny? I need to hear you say you want me to show you how much I love you.”

“Ye – yes,” she replied. “Want it to be only us.”

And she fell. She had thrown herself out from the tenth floor of a building with no parachute and didn’t even realize it yet, and by the time she would’ve opened her eyes and realized what she had done, it would’ve been too late, too close to the ground, too close to crushing down. Her fear of the Ferris wheel would’ve been her reality.

They were once again in an amusement park, going round and round, running after fantasies, marking each other, biting off pieces, bleeding. While the Ferris Wheel kept falling but from higher, much higher than where they were before, and death, even if by his side, wouldn’t have been sweeter and tragically romantic. And while meeting her tragic faith, the only thing she could hope for was to never open her eyes, to never realize the rose-colored glasses carnival Jeno locked her into, but to pretend, and pretend… and pretend until there was nothing left to do, until her sad destiny would’ve welcomed her and lulled her with the ideal of a love story that was only in her mind.

“I love you so much,” he kept whispering next to her ear while he had her body pressed under his, hands intertwined together over her head, chest pressed against her back, hips thrusting against hers, lips kissing the blades of her shoulders, trying to go deeper under her skin because if only he could’ve, he would’ve. “I love you and I want you to never forget it.”

And all she could do was hum and moan under his expert hands that played her like a violin. “I – I missed you,” she cried out, letting go of a confession she couldn’t keep in anymore as another orgasm rushed over her body.

“I know,” he whispered, holding her closer. “Can’t get enough of me, can’t – fuck – be without me.”

“I – it’s getting too much,” she whimpered, pressing her head against the pillows of his bed. “You feel too good,” she wept, holding his hands tighter, feeling her heart burn up when he started to whisper again how much he loved her, how much he needed her.

“We fit so well, bunny,” he whispered, pulling out and turning her over, slipping into her again, holding her limp, tired body in his arms as he picked up his rhythm again. “We are made for each other,” he said, caressing her wet cheek. “So don’t ever let anything – fuck – come between us. Not the bet,” he groaned, feeling another orgasm approach them, “not your brother. Not another man. Nothing and nobody, fuck.”

She hummed, lazily blinking, eyes barely adjusting to see his face, and smiled. She smiled because that felt like heaven. She smiled because Jeno looked like an angel. She smiled because after being a loser for her entire life, there was a small patch of paradise reserved even for her. “Just us,” she whispered.

And by the time they came together she had no more strength to keep her eyes open, even less to talk, but there was nothing more to say. She had nothing more to say, not for now, at least. Her wounds were healed.

So she let go in his arms, drunk in his scent and warmth, heart beating with the hope of a better future. A hope that was fueled by a reality that was all distorted. And in her dreams, she couldn’t hear him, but he would’ve made sure to remind her of that promise every day.

Jeno turned around, eyes studying her relaxed face, fingers grazing her cheeks, moving her hair out of her beautiful face, a grin creeping on his face as he leaned down to kiss her parted lips.

“It will always be us, bunny,” he promised. “Always.”

I hope you liked it, please leave feedback and let me know with comments, reblogs or asks ♡ For more support consider donating.

Part 2: shattered glasses

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